Tag: travel

A Margate Meander Part 1 – a visit to St John’s cemetery, Margate

On By shadowsflyawayIn UncategorizedLeave a comment
Pumpkins in Margate Cemetery. ©Carole Tyrrell

It was a dark, gloomy grey Sunday when I decided to explore the cemetery and walked up the impressive avenue of yew trees studded with bright red berries to the two cemetery chapels. But, by the entrance, I discovered a smaller building hidden behind bushes in the Gothic style of the chapels. I thought that it might have been a mortuary chapel but, on looking at the map, it may have been a more prosaic toilet block now locked up. The cemetery is officially known as St John’s cemetery and also houses a crematorium and associated gardens of rest.

Toilet or mortuary chapel? ©Carole Tyrrell

After the excitement of Halloween, people appeared to have donated their pumpkins to the local wildlife and I disturbed a squirrel scampering over one. However, although people may consider them to be a tasty treat. Forestry England doesn’t agree and suggests on their website that they be reused to make pumpkin soup or be added to compost.

Nothing prepared me for the size of the cemetery and, so far, I have been unable to discover its exact dimensions. I soon realised knew another visit or two would be necessary to explore it fully. The bright Autumn colours of the leaves were dulled by the greyness of the skies as I merrily kicked up leaves and looked for fungi. But all I could find were a couple of what I thought were parasol mushrooms lurking in the fallen leaves.

Presumed Parasol fungi in autumn leaves ©Carole Tyrrell

Autumn leaves. ©Carole Tyrrell

Placemarker of first burial ©Carole Tyrrell

The cemetery was opened in 1856 and a sign marks the place of the first burial which was a woman, Harriet Ross, on 1 November of that year. Most of the first section along the main avenue dates from the 19th century. As I neared the chapels, there was a large monument in a gap between the yew trees, set back from the path featuring an angel praying before a cross with, I assumed, a portrait of the deceased looking approvingly on. This was on the LeMair monument.

The LeMair monument ©Carole Tyrrell

A sign announced ‘Sanger Path’, I wandered along it and came to my first surprise of the day. 4 angels forming a square, one at each corner, on the Reeve memorial. They are well sculpted with detail on the back as well. But then my eye was drawn, well I could hardly miss it, by the lifesize statue of a horse atop the Sanger monument. Beautifully sculpted, it is dedicated to a circus proprietor, John Sanger (1816-1899). He has a tenuous connection to one of my favourite Beatles songs. There is an upturned horseshoe above John Sanger’s epitaph for luck and his shows featured equestrian acts involving horses and ponies and a pantomime every Christmas. He originally went into partnership with his brother, George, but eventually they went their separate ways. George was brutally murdered in 1911 by an ex employee who then committed suicide. A photo album of George’s circus, its performers and animals came up for auction in 2017 and showed that a Victorian circus certainly was value for money! The Sanger circus appeared by royal command at Windsor Castle by Queen Victoria and they also took part in the annual extravaganzas at Crystal Palace.

The Sanger horse ©Carole Tyrrell

©Carole Tyrrell

One of George Sanger’s great granddaughters ashes are also interred in the family plot. This was Victoria Sanger Freeman (1895-1991) and she went under the sobriquet of ‘Queen of the Elephants’ with 4 of them under her charge. She was the last member of the Singer dynasty of circus performers. Beside John Sanger’s horse is another Sanger, Mary Rebecca, who married into the family. She is sandwiched between John and the Reeve ladies. She married William Sanger but I’m not sure at the moment where he stood within the Sanger hierarchy.

Mary Rebecca Sanger is on the left hand side with the Reeve ladies beside her. ©Carole Tyrrell

There was an interesting variation regarding epitaphs within the cemetery. On several graves, they were carved within an oval frame that was reminiscent of a portrait. I thought they looked very elegant.

©Carole Tyrrell
©Carole Tyrrell
©Carole Tyrrell

There was only one way to discover why another path was named ‘Surfboat Path’ and halfway down I came upon the Grade II listed memorial to the Surfboat Disaster. It commemorated the tragedy that killed 9 Margate boatman on 2 December 1887 and was restored by the Royal National Lifeboat Institute, 120 years later in 2017.
The town’s surfboat, ‘Friend to All Nations’, went out on that night in appalling weather to assist the sailing vessel, ‘Persian Empire’. Sadly, the surfboat capsized on the Nayland Rock in Margate with only 4 survivors. A surfboat is according to Wikipedia:
‘A surfboat (or surf boat) is an oar-driven boat designed to enter the ocean from the beach in heavy surf or severe waves. It is often used in lifesaving or rescue missions where the most expedient access to victims is directly from the beach’

A surfboat in action ©DonJeffFranky Shared under Wiki Commons
Full view of the Surfboat Disaster monument ©Carole Tyrrell

The 2017 memorial service was not only to acknowledge the tragic event but also as a reminder that the crews and elements still face the same challenges as emphasised in the sad loss of the crew of the Penless lifeboat in 1981. To say that it is impressive is an understatement as it is surrounded by more modest memorials. It’s in the shape of a huge rock with a lifesize mourning woman, her hands to her head, face turned away, in Victorian dress and carrying a laurel wreath, an evergreen that symbolises eternity. There is an epitaph to the disaster beside her and above, on the top of the rock, are a collection of nautical symbols: chains, anchors, ropes and a life belt with the surfboat’s name on it. I was stunned although I would have expected a few nautical graves due to Margate being on the coast.

A closer view of the mourning woman on the monument. ©Carole Tyrrell

Part 2 – A doomed air flight, an unusual angel and an art lover’s final resting place

©Text and photos Carole Tyrrell unless otherwise stated
References and further reading:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Victoria_Sanger_Freeman

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Surfboat
https://courtauld.ac.uk/about-us/our-history/
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Samuel_Courtauld_(art_collector)
https://www.britannica.com/biography/John-Sanger
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Sanger
https://theisleofthanetnews.com/2017/12/15/a-service-has-marked-the-restoration-of-margates-surf-boat-memorial-and-the-loss-of-9-lives-in-the-tragedy/
https://margatelocalhistory.co.uk/Pictures/Pictures-Storms.html
https://theisleofthanetnews.com/2017/10/04/rare-collection-of-lord-george-sanger-circus-photos-sold-at-auction/
https://daily.jstor.org/vintage-circus-photos-sanger-circus-collection/
https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/46295073/edmund_leonard_george-betts

https://historicengland.org.uk/listing/the-list/list-entry/1396419

Symbol of the Month – the open book

On By shadowsflyawayIn UncategorizedLeave a comment
An example of an open book on a grave in Beckenham Cemetery where the inscription is now unreadable.
©Carole Tyrrell

Sometimes a wander through a cemetery can make you feel as if you’re in a heavenly library due to the number of open books reverently laid on top of graves.  They’re usually made from stone or granite, inscribed with the name and dates of the deceased and often a decorative carved book marker complete with tassel keeping the pages open. In this example, a downwardly pointing finger indicates the large open book.

©Carole Tyrrell

On first appearance the open book can seem a very simple and obvious symbol and it’s used in place of a more formal headstone. But, as with other symbols, it can have alternative meanings.

The 3 dimensional version that is carved to simulate a real book is a 19th century innovation.  Prior to this it was rendered in a 2 dimensional, flat form and can be found on 18th  century tombstones as part of an overall design or epitaph. 

An 18th century tombstone in the churchyard of St Nicholas, Strood. © Carole Tyrrell

The open book can almost resemble a visitors book with the deceased’s details inscribed on it as if they were signing in or checking out for eternity and sometimes one page is left blank for perhaps the partner who will follow.  On a recent stroll through Beckenham cemetery I came across several variations:

A modern Book of Life showing book marker and tassel with one page left blank for the deceased’s partner. Beckenham Cemetery ©Carole Tyrrell
A book showed both pages completed and the book propped up on a platform – Beckenham Cemetery ©Carole Tyrrell
Note how the Book of Life is carved to resemble a real book with pages indicated. Beckenham Cemetery ©Carole Tyrrell
A modern example again from Beckenham Cemetery where the pages aren’t lying flat but have been created to resemble real pages with a slight curve to them ©Carole Tyrrell

For example, there was one with both pages blank which could indicate that the inscription has worn off or that they were ready to be written for eternity.  The latter echoes the well-known phrase  ‘he or she can be read like an open book’ and the empty pages  can indicate that this is how they want to be judged on the Day of Judgement. This references the quotation from the Book of Revelation 20:11-15:

‘And I saw the dead, small and great, stand before God; and the books were opened: and another book was opened, which is the book of life: and the dead were judged out of those things which were written in the books, according to their works.’ King James Bible

This is also why the open book is also known as the Book of Life as it contains everything that the deceased has done throughout their life and for which they will now be accountable. Christ is often depicted carrying a book.  J C Cooper also sees it as the Book of Life and adds that it can also represent

‘….learning and the spirit of wisdom, revelation and …wisdom.’

Here the Book doesn’t have an epitaph but instead is inscribed with a Biblical quotation from Jeremiah 31:3
©Carole Tyrrell

‘The LORD hath appeared of old unto me, saying, Yea, I have loved thee with an everlasting love: therefore with loving kindness have I drawn thee.’ Jeremiah 31.3 King James Bible

This makes the symbol almost resemble a Bible.  Other suggestions are that it can indicate the grave of a writer, publisher or even more obviously a clergyman.

It can also suggest that a chapter of life has ended or closed and a variant is the closed book.  I found this one in West Norwood cemetery and it clearly indicates a life that has ended with the final chapter now written.

An example of a closed book from West Norwood Cemetery/ ©Carole Tyrrell

So the open book has made me think about how my book of life would look on my last resting place. I’m determined to make sure that it’s a good read for any passing visitor.

©Text and photos Carole Tyrrell unless otherwise indicated.

References:

An illustrated Encyclopaedia of Traditional Symbols, J C Cooper, Thames & Hudson, 1978

Stories in Stone, a field guide to Cemetery Symbolism and Iconography, Douglas Keister,

Gibbs Smith, 2004

http://biblehub.com/search/jeremiah/31-3.htm

https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Revelation%2020:11-15

http://biblehub.com/search/jeremiah/31-3.htm

http://www.thecemeteryclub.com/symbols.html

https://stoneletters.com/blog/gravestone-symbols

https://www.thoughtco.com/photo-gallery-of-cemetery-symbolism-4123061

Champers and cockleshells – a return visit to St James, Cooling August 2024

On By shadowsflyawayIn Uncategorized2 Comments

The Cockleshell vestry, St James Cooling, Kent. © Carole Tyrrell

Maybe I just disturbed the nocturnal guests at St James’s and they felt compelled to hide but all appeared to be silent as I stepped inside the church.  But they were given away by 2 vacant camp beds in front of the altar and the small refreshment area by the pulpit. I thought that the hot water bottle on one of the camp beds was a nice touch as I stood there for a moment and wondered what it must have been like staying overnight in an empty church in such an isolated place. There are houses around the church but not that many. ‘Champing’, is a euphemism for overnight ‘camping’ in churches looked after by The Churches Conservation Trust. Don’t worry they’re not pitching tents! The church provided the campbed and the usual amenities. It’s really caught on in recent years and I have been tempted to try it myself.

A recently vacated Champers campbed. © Carole Tyrrell

But I was at St James’s to see the cockleshell room which I’d missed on earlier visits. There wasn’t a sign advertising it but a quick look at the church map of the interior and I headed for the church organ. This time I found it! The door’s latch seemed to echo in the tranquillity as I pulled it open. The vestry is ‘compact and bijou’ as an estate agent would undoubtedly say – it is tiny and there was only a small open cobwebbed window, high up in the wall for ventilation. The room felt very warm and contained only a chair, possibly a recycled pew, and a bureau.

But it’s the thousands of cockleshells that made me catch my breath. They are floor to ceiling, arranged in patterns with newer ones being cemented in. I have to say that it did feel a little claustrophobic.  The vestry dates back to the 19th century and is considered to be either a reminder or perhaps homage to the shell being the symbol of the saint, St James. Shells would be worn in pilgrims’ hats as they went on the trail to his shrine in Santiago de Compostela. Above the door, and supposed to be, are initials and a date which may be 1833 or 1838.  The initials are I.M.  and I.C. CWARDENS which could stand for John Murton and John Comport churchwardens. I was looking in the wrong place so didn’t spot it but perhaps on another visit…. you do need a few minutes just to take it all in and try not to touch them although it is a very tactile surface.

View of the vestry. © Carole Tyrrell

Close up view of cockleshells on wall showing newer ones cemented in. © Carole Tyrrell

You can almost imagine what this room must have looked like at one time with newer shells. © Carole Tyrrell

View of bureau and walls. © Carole Tyrrell

View of church from vestry. © Carole Tyrrell

According to the Churches Conservation Trust, it’s considered to be

‘unique in an English church’.

As I explored the nave after leaving the little room I saw the medieval benches that date back to the 14th century. They’ve evaded the iconoclasts of the 1600s and Victorian restoration but are now too fragile to be touched, much less sat on, and are now roped off.

The medieval pews – not considered comfortable by the Victorians. © Carole Tyrrell

The Murton memorial. © Carole Tyrrell

The name Murton appeared again on an elegant and poignant wall memorial to a sailor, John William, eldest son of John Murton of nearby Cooling Castle.  He died young, aged 28, after falling overboard from the Monarch off Rio de Janeiro during a voyage to Calcutta. The inscription on the marble tablet quotes from the ship’s captain’s log:

‘And so perished one of the finest and best hearted seamen who ever trod a ship’s deck. I have lost a trustworthy officer and valued friend. Peace be to his remains.’  

View of churchyard from inside church. © Carole Tyrrell

After that I went outside to see ‘Pip’s Graves’ and the table tomb on which Charles Dickens is reputed to have eaten his lunch. Across the marsh I could see docked ships and butterflies flitted about on the buddleia at one end of the churchyard.  I found a clergyman’s grave denoted by a chalice and more childrens graves. One was dedicated to a six year old. I also pursued a Common Darter dragonfly until it posed obligingly and checked to see if the little grinning demon still kept watch over the outside loo.  He did. I looked up as I left the churchyard and saw, glinting on the weathervane above the tower the representation of another cockleshell.

Docked ships over the marshes from the churchyard. © Carole Tyrrell

Common Darter. © Carole Tyrrell

The chalice symbol indicates the grave of a priest or clergyman. © Carole Tyrrell

A small grave dedicated to a 6 year old in another part of the churchyard. © Carole Tyrrell

Shell symbol on the weathervane. © Carole Tyrrell

View of St James from outside the churchyard. © Carole Tyrrell

The 18th historian, Edward Hasted, described Cooling as

‘an unfrequented place, the roads of which are deep and miry, and it is as unhealthy as it is unpleasant.’ 

It certainly is unfrequented as I was alone as I walked along Cooling Road to and from the church with only passing cars for company. The remains of the 14th century Cooling Castle, which is in private hands, are still impressive. Dark blue sloe berries were still on several bushes and windfalls clustered beneath apple trees in a nearby orchard.  I retraced my steps back to Cliffe for a wander round St Helen’s churchyard and then a very welcome cuppa in their café. 

But how I envied the ‘champers’ enjoying a good night’s kip(I hope) in that little corner of Kent.

© Text and photos Carole Tyrrell unless otherwise stated.

References and further reading

St James’ Church, Cooling, Kent | The Churches Conservation Trust (visitchurches.org.uk)

James the Great – Wikipedia

St. James | Biography, Apostle, the Greater, Death, Feast Day, & Facts | Britannica

Madam, have you paid the correct fare for that coffin Part 2 – exploring Brookwood Cemetery and the Necropolis Railway

On By shadowsflyawayIn Cemetery excursions4 Comments

Vintage photo showing Necropolis Railway in action, Brookwood Museum/
©Carole Tyrrell

If I wanted to be flippant I could have subtitled this post ‘The Tracks of my tears’ as 1, and a group of members of The Dracula Society, enjoyed a guided tour along the fragments of the Necropolis Railway in deepest Surrey.   Our guide, John Clarke, had given a fascinating talk on the Railway after discovering the abandoned North station buildings at Brookwood in the 1970’s.

The Necropolis Railway was commonly known as The Stiffs Express and ran from a dedicated platform at Waterloo station to Brookwood station or Necropolis Junction as it was originally known.  It was created by Victorian enterprise and entrepreneurship in 1854 as its owners eagerly anticipated a lucrative trade from transporting up to 10,000 bodies a year to the new Brookwood Cemetery.   This was approximately 23 miles out of London and was envisaged as relieving the pressure on overcrowded city churchyards.  The Railway had two stations; North and South. One was for Anglicans and the other was for Non-Conformists which was basically anyone who wasn’t an Anglican.

The Victorian class system was rigidly enforced on the Railway even in death. Charles Blomfield, the Bishop of London, declared that it was completely unacceptable for the families of people from different social classes, living or dead, to be forced to share the same train on the journey to the cemetery. After all, no-one wanted people who had led ‘decent and wholesome’ lives to be placed in the hearse car beside those who had led ‘less moral’ lives.  You might think that once someone’s dead what does it matter…..

The Railway wasn’t cheap. Here are the fares with their modern equivalent:

1st  class  6s       = £92

2nd class  3s 6d  = £23

3rd class  2s 6d   = £12

Coffin tickets were priced for 1st/2nd/3rd     class according to the type of funeral booked.

A train left Waterloo at 11.40am and there was a return one to Waterloo at 3.30pm so mourners could be out in the countryside most of the day. This meant that, unless the funeral was on a Sunday, a working person would have to lose a day’s pay.  However refreshments were available at both stations and consisted of home cooked ham sandwiches and fairy cakes. At the talk, Mr Clarke revealed that there had been a sign over the counter announcing ‘Spirits served here.’  There were only two accidents during its 90 years of existence and neither involved fatalities.

But the anticipated trade didn’t take off.  Instead of 10,000 burials per year it was at best roughly 2000 and by the 1930’s the train journeys had tailed off to 1 or 2 a week.  It was the Luftwaffe that finally killed off the Necropolis Railway and it closed forever on 11 May 1941.  After the end of Second World War its surviving parts were sold off as office space.

But we still found its traces around Waterloo. On Westminster Bridge Road the magnificent booking hall still stands with most of the original features intact although the London Necropolis Railway sign has long since gone.  The booking hall dates from 1902 and used to be the HQ of the British Haemophilia Society but is now the offices of a Maritime broker.

Then we walked up Lower Marsh and into Hercules Street to see what remained of one of the 3rd class platforms.  These were meant for working people and, as we looked along the underneath of the platform from ground level, someone in our group pointed out the metal posts on the pavement beneath. These were inscribed with the word ‘LIFE’ whereas the platform up above had been concerned with Death. A hotel is now in place of where the cortege dramatically swept through Waterloo station as they entered.

The Railway was revived in 2017 by the London Dungeon as a Halloween attraction called The Death Express.

Then onto Brookwood Cemetery which I had last visited 20 years ago.  I was looking forward to seeing if it had changed….

Part 2 Brookwood Cemetery, its link with the Omen and a last surprise.

©Text and photos Carole Tyrrell unless otherwise stated.

References:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/London_Necropolis_railway_station

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/London_Necropolis_Railway

http://www.bbc.com/autos/story/20161018-the-passenger-train-that-carried-the-dead

https://www.london-walking-tours.co.uk/secret-london/london-necropolis-railway.htm

https://www.john-clarke.co.uk/brookwoodnecropolis.html

https://www.cwgc.org/find/find-cemeteries-and-memorials/44400/brookwood-military-cemetery

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brookwood_Cemetery