Many, many thanks to Paul Woods (Chester Green Badge Guide who leads the cemetery tour Stories in Stone) for sending me the scans of this leaflet by Cheshire RIGS and the Northwest Geodiversity Partnership, apparently published in 2012. It looks at the most common types of stone used, gives some geological details about it, and discusses how some of it responds to environmental conditions. I’ve shared the JPEGs below but I have also turned it into a PDF that you can download by clicking here. I cannot wait to take it for a test drive!
Author Archives: Andie
Overleigh Cemetery, Chester #2 – The living, the dead and the visitor
In part 1 of this series on Overleigh Cemetery the economic background to Overleigh Old Cemetery was introduced briefly, and details of the reasons and execution of the foundation of Overleigh Old and New Cemeteries were discussed. Here, in part 2, both Overleigh Old and New Cemeteries are explored in a little more depth. There are a great many components that contribute to how a gravestone looks, what it says, and what it meant to the bereaved. Between the sculptural forms, the symbols used on headstones and the inscriptions, as well as the design of the the cemetery itself and the ways in which it evolved and was used and perceived at different times in the past, Overleigh has a lot to contribute to how we think about Chester and its occupants.

Eliza Margaret Wall, died 1899, aged 30. Other family members were added in future years up to 1936
As a starting point, it is useful to look at who the main users of the cemetery were and are, both living and deceased, before moving on to a general guide to what to look out for if you are a visitor interested in learning about what the cemetery has to offer.
- Part 1: Introduction to the background and the establishment of Overleigh Cemetery
- Part 2: The living, the dead and the visitor at Overleigh
- Part 3: Shifting ideas – the move away from monumental cemeteries towards cremations and lawn cemeteries
- Part 4: The research potential of cemeteries; and Overleigh case studies
- Part 5: The Overleigh Old and New Cemetery today and in the future
- References for all five parts are here
As in part 1, where I have included a photograph of a grave and there is information about it on the Find A Grave website, I have added a link. For anyone using the database for their own investigations, note that Find A Grave treats Overleigh Old and New cemeteries as two different entities and you have to search under the correct one.
I have stuffed this full of photographs to help explain some of my points, so Part 2 looks bigger than it actually is. You can click on any of the images to see a bigger version.
With many thanks again to Christine Kemp (Friends of Overleigh Cemetery) for her much-appreciated ongoing help.
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People
Graves represent people, the living and the dead, both entangled in the complexities of funerary rites.
The bereaved

A funeral at Overleigh Old Cemetery. Detail of 19th century engraving of Overleigh Cemetery. Source: Wikipedia
Although this post is about a burial ground and its graves, funerary traditions and practices are all as much, if not infinitely more, about the living. The need to recognize and commemorate loss, not merely at the funeral but prior to it and after it are essential to people, even today when the traumas associated with death tend to be handled in more internalized ways than in the pre-war periods.

Gravestone of Geoffrey Mascie Taylor, died 1879. If anyone has any idea what the symbol represents at the top of the gravestone, please let me know.
During the Victorian period there was an elaborate process of marking a death, a tradition of precise convention and ritual, expressed both within the family and communally. When someone dies the living are left behind to handle a loss as best they can, and cemeteries and memorials are only one one part of that process. The end to end process from death to mourning is all a part of the Victorian experience of bereavement. Visiting and tending the grave, bringing flowers for the deceased, was part of this process, in which women had a key role, and demonstrating bereavement in public essentially brought the grave into the domestic sphere. Several of the books listed in the references, go into some detail about the Victorian expressions of mourning, and books by James Stevens Curl in 1972 and Judith Flanders in her recent overview provide great insights, but if you want a much shorter book with a still very comprehensive and well written overview, Helen Frisby’s Traditions of Death and Burial offers an excellent overview of Victorian and later bereavement ceremonies.

John Owens JP, died 1853, age 72. “A Merciful Man Whose /
Righteousness Shall / Not Be Forgotten.” There are no additional inscriptions on this impressive headstone
In the Victorian period it has been argued that the lead-up to a funeral, the funeral itself and its aftermath were all components of an intention to promote social status, wealth and the knowledge of and participation in deeply embedded social conventions that specified in detail how death should be handled and how mourning should take place. The Industrial Revolution had created a new type of middle class, many of whom were making livings based on manufacturing and commerce, as well as roles in the growing legal, medical, administrative, banking, and similar sectors. Even though there were more opportunities for social mobility, and the ability for individuals to define themselves in new terms, the aristocracy still provided a model for those with social ambitions. Conspicuous displays of personal and family identity and wealth had become fundamentally important in this need to establish a dignified and self-important identity at a location between the upper and working classes. It was also important for the lower middle classes to distinguish themselves from those who were less financially robust, doing what was perceived as more menial work, defining themselves as socially distinct from the working class. Hierarchy, with all its subtleties during the Victorian period, was important, deeply-felt, and complex, and much of this is reflected in funerary rituals.
More recently it has also been recognized that elaborate Victorian and early Edwardian funerary ceremonies were not merely social devices but reflected the great trauma associated with loss in a world where medicine was in its infancy and where where the middle class was defining itself within often smaller families than previously. Sickness and death could be both frequent by comparison to today, and was often profoundly distressing. At the same time, sanitation and health were slowly improving in the second half of the century, meaning that once childbirth and infancy had been survived, people physically lasted longer than they had done in the past, building relationships but more frequently succumbing to old-age problems, becoming invalids who were cared for within the home. National and community diseases were frequent, some of them long-lasting, and the role of women in nursing their relatives became increasingly important where professional standards of nursing were, just as much as the professionalization of medicine, in their earliest incarnation. Middle class family ties, and the Victorian and Edwardian sense of moral responsibility to relatives, ensured that sickness was a very frequent component of family life.

TThe monumental grave shrine of Henry Raikes, died 1854, aged 72, Chancellor of the Chester Diocese and one of the founders of the Chester “Ragged Schools.” Overleigh Old Cemetery..
Relatively recent research has also suggested that working class people felt no less strongly about the loss of their partners, siblings and children. Many working class families were crowded into insanitary areas all over in Britain, and notable areas have been identified in Chester, forcing people into much closer proximity, and this promoted the transmission of sickness and disease with a consequent cost in terms of poor health. Sickness was handled within families, which caused many problems in household management, where women frequently worked for a living, often in domestic capacities. This resulted in the occasional recourse to a new breed of hospitals as well as a frequently dubious type of pre-professional paid nursing care. The ease of disease transmission meant that those living so close together and in such insanitary conditions were most at risk of epidemics, and the mortality rate was much higher than in middle class households. There were clubs into which people could pay a subscription to save up for funerals, just as there were clubs to save up for Christmas, and there are several pauper graves at Overleigh. But for some the costs were too high, so many graves were unmarked, and the grief of some families was never recorded meaning that these losses are not captured.

The monument for Joseph Randles, died 1917, aged 65-66. Note the partially veiled urn, which will be mentioned later.
It is easy to forget that until the NHS was established in 1948, most people still died at home rather than in hospitals, hospices or nursing homes, and that families housed the deceased, until burial, within their homes, and those deceased, laid out in front parlours in their coffins, were visited by friends and families. The introduction of the funerary Chapel of Rest in the later Victorian period helped to reduce the time when the deceased remained in the house, but it was still a common part of a death that the dead remained amongst the living until the funeral well into the 20th century.
The focus on ceremony and ritual altered over time, with a considerable change of direction from the elaborate ceremonies of the Victorians to the minimalist approaches taken today. This does not mean a growth of indifference to death, but it does indicate changes within society. The beginnings of this are to be found in the Edwardian period, particularly during and after the First World War, when the nation’s horses that traditionally pulled hearses were required for the war effort. Funerals became even less demonstrative after World War 2. This will be discussed a little more in Part 3.

On this Armstrong family cenotaph and headstone in the Overleigh New Cemetery, three sons predeceased their parents aged 32 in 1917, 22 in 1918, and 39 in 1927, the first two of them at war, all of which must have been a shocking loss. Their parents are commemorated here too.
In the cemetery itself, the most obvious incorporation of gravestones into the world of the living is the highly visible custom of flowers and other gifts having been left in front of a headstone. Fresh flowers in particular give the sense of a grave being regularly tended but artificial flowers and other items also serve to mark the continued attention to a grave by those who wish to indicate their recognition and care. My father, who was born in 1936 and grew up on the Wirral, says that when he was a small boy he was taken regularly to the graves of his relatives in Liverpool, where there was a flower shop outside the gates, and flowers were purchased, a visit was made to family graves, and a picnic was enjoyed nearby. It was a visit of celebration, continuity and memory, a positive occasion.
The other most obvious indication of a gravestone continuing to have a role is the presence of multiple inscriptions on many memorials, as individual family members are lost and the living are compelled to update the inscriptions. Many of these gravestones capture this passage of time and accumulated loss very effectively, telling long narratives of family loss, sometimes covering several decades, and suggesting multi-generational involvement with funerary activities and commemoration, the sense of a continuum between the past, the present and the potential future.
The Deceased
The deceased may seem to be passive and inanimate, but they have voices in at least three ways. First, they may have had input into their own graves, including its location, its design and its use as a single plot or a family plot. In this sense they are very much agents of their own burials. Second, the very process of memorialization, whether by family or friends, gives the departed an enduring presence that lasts into the modern world, a very material presence. Some of those who died may also have obituaries to be found in newspaper archives, and accounts of inquests into their deaths, filling out a much richer picture of former lives, and those who were in positions of influence will have had much more information captured in official documents and even preserved journals. In this way they can contribute very significantly to modern research projects, as much as that may have surprised them. Third, they occupy the living landscape of cemeteries, spaces that occupy often new places in modern life and that are valued today. At Overleigh I have seen people walking from one end to the other pause to read an inscription, and dog walkers wandering around, pausing to take note of a particular grave. The dead area still amongst the living, even when they are not even slightly connected today with their ancestors. Those who care for their graves, and tours that bring visitors, all do their essential bit to keep the deceased amongst the living.

Art Deco style headstone of Ralph Esplin, died 1935, aged 67
It has been the experience of cemeteries since the beginning of the 17th century in Britain that graves are tended for perhaps three generations after which they fall out of use, as families move away or simply move on. Genealogy makes some of them briefly relevant, but the funerary landscape is a strange mixture of the abandoned and the perpetuated. Local authorities and Friends societies contribute to the task of caring for abandoned graves, but this is a very different relationship from those that are still visited by family members. In Victorian cemeteries, there is always a rather strange dynamic between the historical sections and those that are still the essence of loss, bereavement and and ongoing engagement.
The deceased in the early periods of the cemetery capture something of Chester’s evolving social, economic and cultural endeavors, as it attempted to secure its future and create a stable and prosperous community. Those who are represented in the cemetery are largely those who were either already successful in establishing themselves within this community or were making the attempt to improve themselves and gain status; the unmarked pauper and cholera graves are amongst the hidden histories of Overleigh and of Chester itself. There is time-depth here too, as we can track changes from 1848, when the Old cemetery was established, through the Edwardian period and both World Wars, and the changes during the post-war period up until the present day. I have been learning how much work it takes to see beyond the sea of graves and to read history captured in the cemetery landscape and monuments, and it is all there to be found, the world of the dead contributing to an understanding of the transforming past and how society’s views on death and commemoration changed. Parts 3 and 4 will go into this in more detail.
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Visiting Overleigh for the first time – what to look out for

The central monument, in rose granite, is a truncated obelisk, indicating a life cut short and usually associated with the loss of younger people, although not invariably. In this case, Harry MacCabe who died aged 26.
I have started here with the most obvious way of getting to grips with a cemetery – how things look when you walk through for the first time. This is about shapes, materials and the visual cues that you can pick up at first glance to give an indication of what the casual visitor may want to focus on during a first visit.
The majority of monuments at Overleigh are vertical, unlike the variety seen in local churchyards that include a variety of other horizontal and chest-type forms, as discussed in connection with the churchyard at Gresford, some 10 miles south of Chester. The example below shows one of the horizontal representations, which are less numerous, although of course by being less visible are more likely to be overlooked.
Although I discuss Overleigh as a site that helps us to connect with history, it is important to remember that both Old and New parts of Overleigh are still in use for new interments and cremation memorials, and that families and friends are still regular visitors to visit their departed and tend their plots. All visits by those of us who are not connected with family or friends interred in the cemetery need to explore with respect and care for those other visitors who are at the cemetery for the purpose of connecting with the departed.

The horizontal gravestone of Major Richard Cecil Davies is one of the relatively few gravestones that are not vertical. Some, of course, have fallen over and are now just as horizontal as this one, but this was always intended to lie over the grave and face upwards. These are always vulnerable to being taken over by grass and weeds, and need an eye kept on them.
Themes and symbols

Author James Curl (1975) found this advert in an 1860s guide to Highgate Cemetery in London, showing a range of grave monuments available for purchase. Most of these have equivalents at Overleigh.
How were headstones and monuments chosen? From the 1830s onward stonemasons had catalogues from which headstones could be chosen, just as there are today. Today there are also catalogues from which to choose, many of them online and offering a wide range of alternatives. At the same time, some families might prefer a grave that is similar to that of other family members, and some might want to emulate styles admired in a local cemetery. The imagery on the graves during the Victorian and Edwardian periods formed a rich language of meaning that is understood by all, including the illiterate. Sometimes the imagery used on a gravestone may say as much if not more about the emotional relationship between the living and the deceased than the text inscription, including the hopes that the living had for their dearly departed.
When you are walking around, you will notice that certain themes are recurring in the designs of the gravestones in both halves of the cemetery. These represent specific choices that people have made and the ideas that they wish to communicate. These can either be sculptural memorials or more modest headstones that incorporate carved imagery. Sometimes headstones just include text, and sometimes there is just a kerb with no headstone which usually lacks imagery, but the symbolic medium is often an important part of the message that a gravestone communicates, imparting a different type of information from the text, often rather more subtle and conceptual than what is written, sometimes capturing emotions and ideas rather more effectively than words. There is a usually a minimalist formality in what is written, but this does not extend to imagery and symbols, which can be far more expressive. The themes and symbols mentioned below are just examples that I have found in Overleigh Cemetery.

The memorial to Private Arthur Walton, died 1918 aged 27.
In the memorial to Private Arthur Walton shown left, the overall language of the iconography, seems to reflect the concepts of Christianity and the life of Jesus in response to the loss of a much-loved son in the First World War. The crown can symbolize victory but is also the emblem of Jesus and Christian immortality. Beneath it, the Biblical quote “He died that we might live” refers to Jesus, but might also refer to the sacrifice of Arthur Walton himself. The heart is a symbol of everlasting love of Christ and also of the charity espoused by St Paul, but also captures personal love. The grapes and vine-leaves are usually related to themes connected with Jesus including the blood of Christ, the Last Supper and the Holy Sacrament. Overall the iconography of the grave is probably one of personal sacrifice and its association with Christian values and the sacrifice of Christ himself, whilst at the same time demonstrating very deep personal loss. As well as being very moving, this is a good example of how the imagery can contribute to the overall narrative of a headstone or memorial.

Hester Ann Clemence, died 1914, aged 62, with other members of the family commemorated on the pedestal steps beneath the floral Celtic style cross. The steps often represent the steps representing Christ’s climb to Calvary. All of the creativity and suggestion of emotion in the monument is in the design; the inscription is minimalist. Although the encircled cross was originally associated with Irish graves, it became popular throughout Britain during the 19th century.
Of the overtly Christian-themed grave markers the dominant shapes are the crosses that re-appear for the first time since the Reformation during the 19th century, symbols both of Christ’s sacrifice and of resurrection, and proliferate at Overleigh, from the very simple to the seriously elaborate. Crosses carved with decorated themes are widespread through the cemetery. Although there had been very few crosses before the Victorian period, due to fear of association with papism. A popular choice at Overleigh was the so-called Celtic cross, with Celtic-style designs covering the surface. A popular variant has the top of the cross contained within a stone circle. Although originally associated with Irish and Scottish graves, after 1890s in particular, when a Celtic cross was chosen by the celebrated art critic John Ruskin for his own memorial in Coniston, it became popular for burials of all religious persuasion. A cross on a set of steps is often intended to represent the steps the Christ climbed to Calvary, but they might also simply be chosen for their monumental impact. Flowers on a cross are indicative of immortality. There are quite a few angels, messengers of God and the guardians of the dead who also transport the soul to heaven. The letters IHS often occur on graves in both urban and rural cemeteries and represent a Christogram, the three letters of the name of Jesus in Greek (iota, eta, sigma).

The truncated obelisk erected in memory of Francis Aylmer Frost. This photograph was taken by Christine Kemp when this area was not the overgrown jungle that it is now (you can see another photograph of this column, as it is today just below. Copyright Christine Kemp.
Many emblems are appropriated from earlier periods. Pagan themes include the many Egyptian-style obelisks (more about which you can read on my post about the Barnston memorial in Farndon). A splendid fluted truncated Doric column, a not uncommon cemetery icon but in this particular case perhaps a nod to Chester’s Roman past, is located just inside the River Lane gate to the Old Cemetery, its truncation indicating a life cut short, and generally indicating someone who died young, although in this case Francis Aylmer Frost was 68; another truncated column was dedicated to Harry MacCabe who was 26. It is not the only one in the Old and New cemeteries, but it is by far the most impressive, shown at far left in the image below. Its base is so badly overgrown with viciously thorny brambles that I couldn’t begin to find an engraving without losing half my hands and arms, and so remain ignorant as to who it commemorated. I need some garden shears next time!

Floral themes on the grave of Thomas George Crocombe, died 1913 aged 20, the eldest of 9 children. Overleigh Old Cemetery.
Flowers are a popular carved theme on headstones. Some have specific associations, such as the lily, standing for purity and a return to innocence; the rose, which indicates love (different coloured roses mean slightly different things), lilies of the valley, with connotations of innocence and renewal; daffodils that, flowering in spring, represent rebirth; and daisies, which symbolize innocence and were a popular choice for child graves. A sprig of wheat often indicated someone who had lived to a good age. Ivy, ironically, is representative of life everlasting and due to its enduring character. It is often show winding its way around cross headstones; today rampant ivy is one of the greatest causes of damage to graves in cemeteries and churchyards. The most popular of birds shown on graves were doves, symbolizing either the Holy Spirit guiding the deceased to heaven, or general values of spirituality, hope and peace. There are several at Overleigh.

Detail of the headstone of Harriett Garner and other family members with clasped hand motif. in this case it perhaps suggests father and daughter. Harriett’s father, who gave evidence at the inquest into her suicide, was certainly very distressed by the loss of his daughter. They are usually quite common in cemeteries, I have noticed only a few at Overleigh.
An urn is a very well represented motif, quite often topping a headstone as a sculptural component, and indicating the soul of the deceased; when draped with a veil they may indicate the soul departing or represent grief of mourners. Angels are popular sculptural elements at Overleigh, indicating the soul of the deceased being accompanied to heaven. Much less frequently shown than angels, but popular in many cemeteries, are images is that of a weeping woman, representing the loss of a person and the mourning of the bereaved. Small statues of children often indicate the grave of a young child. Clasped hands, common at some cemeteries but apparently not as well represented at Overleigh, indicate unity and may suggest the bonds of husband and wife, or of friendship or the hope to be reunited with loved ones; some have been carved to show the clothing and character of the hands as distinctly male or female. An anchor may show that the deceased was professionally connected with the sea, but may also represent hope; a variation is the anchor with a woman, the embodiment of hope, although I have not seen an example of the latter at Overleigh. Books may have many meanings – sometimes they are associated with the Bible of the clergy or the work of scholars, whilst others may mean knowledge or wisdom, or may simply represent chapters in life.

On the left, the headstone of Arthur Davies. The text wrapped around the anchor reads “Hope is the Anchor of the Soul.” The inscription contains other commemorations. The headstone of Florence Taylor Battersby and other family members in the middle, topped with a dove. The grave at far right shows the Christogram IHS, an abbreviation of the name of Jesus in Greek and Latin. Click to enlarge
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The child grave of Violet Patterson, died 1929, as well as other members of her family, one of whom, Edward Andrew Patterson, who died and was cremated in 2007, is inscribed on one page of the book. This is one of the longer enduring of the graves at Overleigh, in use for 78 years.
A book included on a gravestone may indicate any of a number of ideas. Prosaically, the grave’s owner might be involved in the printing, publishing or book-selling trades. Alternatively they might be a scholar or, if the book is intended to be a Bible, a cleric or someone particularly devout. In cemeteries one side of an open book often has the name of the husband or wife, whilst the other side remains blank until the other partner has also died, when the blank page can be completed. Sometimes the blank page is left incomplete, possibly because the former partner has remarried or moved out of the area, or has left no provision for the disposal of his or her remains.
There are also more modern emblems and themes that people have incorporated into grave carvings. In the Overleigh New Cemetery in particular there are Art Deco, Arts and Crafts and Art Nouveau themes. Although often contained within crosses, the Art Nouveau decorations seem otherwise celebratory of life. The combination of Christian crosses with modern themes perhaps positions religion within a modern context where there is no need to refer back to much older historical values in order legitimize Christian beliefs. One of them, dedicated to Anna Maria Meredith, has a Biblical quote on it (fourth from the left, a most unusual headstone, although there is a second example in the cemetery). The memorial to Frederick Coplestone, third from left, shows St Francis of Assisi. It will be discussed further in Part 4.

Memorial in the cremation Garden of Reflection showing a locomotive. Roy Douggie, died 2010 aged 77, and his wife Beryl, died 2016, aged 79. That sycamore is going to need weeding out if it is not going to do permanent damage!
As can be seen on more modern gravestones and memorials, most of which can be seen in the Garden of Reflection in Overleigh Old Cemetery and at the very far end of Overleigh New Cemetery and even more dramatically at the post-war cemetery at Blacon, gravestone types and materials have become standardized, and the rich visual language of symbols and icons employed became much less varied over time, and are now often eliminated entirely, although secular themes are sometimes chosen instead. In modern cemeteries, regulations about the nature of grave markers limit potential for developing new monumental statements, but the decline in religious involvement in everyday life is also a part of this trend. The language of religious imagery to convey complex values (semiotics) now takes a back seat, even where commemoration is required, with modern secular images often chosen instead of Christian ones. There are exceptions, and Roman Catholic memorials can still be quite elaborate. Today modern gravestones and memorials can be less about choosing the perfect message for eternity than creating an appropriate personal message and style for the here and now, which is an attractive feature of many modern memorials.
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There are many more symbols and themes on gravestones than those covered in my brief overview above, some quite common at cemeteries, some unique, and it is worth looking out for some interesting examples.
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Inscriptions

Alice Maud Gwynne, died 1921 at the age of 42 which bears the inscription “There’s no pain in the homeland,” the monument topped with an urn
Inscriptions can be presented using various different fonts, sizes and colours all on the same monument, which creates a sense of texture. Inscriptions are often filled with colour to make the text stand out from the background stone and make it easier to read. Lead lettering was occasionally inset into stone to achieve the same impact. The different styles of text create a great deal of variety in the visual impact of the cemetery.
Headstones in Overleigh tend to be fairly minimalist in terms of the information they provide, many simply naming family members and providing a date of birth and death, perhaps a note about the role of the deceased, particularly where this was a high status position. Most contain some sort of affectionate phrase or such as “In loving memory of,” “in affectionate remembrance of,” “beloved wife,” “dear husband,” etc. Others may contain a little more information. Some may state the town or village name of the village, or even the property, where the deceased was resident.

The commemoration to 9 year old Walter Crocombe, his mother Sarah, 68, her husband George, 88, and their 4 year old grandson Eric.
Multiple dedications following the initial interment help to give a sense of the family context of both the first and and subsequent family members, and the longer they were in use, the more resonance they had for the family as successive generations interacted with the monument not merely to a single person but to a family commitment and tradition. The child grave of Violet Patterson, died 1929, includes dedications to other members of her family, and was in use for 78 years, with the latest inscription dedicated to a family member who died and was cremated in 2007.
Only war graves tend to give details of how death happened, such as “killed in action” or “killed in flying accident,” although there are never any details. A great many refer to the deceased having fallen asleep, a euphemism for having died that skirts around and sometimes deliberately disguises how the death occurred. Occasionally a grave will refer to the suffering of an individual, although I have seen fewer at Overleigh than in churchyards. The commemoration of Sarah Crocombe at Overleigh reads “Her pain was great / She murmured not / But hung on to / Our Saviour’s cross.” The monument to Alice Maud Gwynne comments “There’s no pain in the homeland,” which implies that she may have experienced some suffering towards the end of her life.

The memorial to Josephine Enid Whitlow in Overleigh New Cemetery (thanks Chris!) who died in 1938.
For obvious reasons, child graves can be more expressive than others about personal feelings of grief and loss. The grave of 2-3 year old Josephine Enid Whitlow in Overleigh New Cemetery, for example, shown towards the top of this post, has a statue of a small child labled “JOSIE” (Josephine Enid Whitlow) accompanied by the the inscription “Jesus Walked Down The Path One Day / And Glanced At Josie On His Way / Come With Me He Softly Said / And On His Bosom Laid Her Head.” She died in an isolation hospital in 1938. The grave of the Crocombe family shown above records the loss of 9 year old Walter: “Little Walter was our darling / Pride of all the hearts at home / But the breezes floating lightly / Came and whispered Walter come.”
A few graves have Latin inscriptions. Latin is often used on Roman Catholic graves, and the letters RIP often indicate a Catholic grave, standing for the words “requiescat in pace,” meaning “rest in peace”, part of a prayer for the dead. A nice little gravestone commemorating Thomas Hutchins, near the entrance on Overleigh Road has the legend “stabat mater dolorosa” inscribed along the line of the arch, meaning “the sorrowful mother was standing,” a reference to the Virgin Mary’s vigil during the crucifixion. It is one of a number that ask the reader to pray for the soul of the deceased.

The small, relatively isolated gravestone of Thomas Hutchins, died 1879, aged 39–40
Perhaps the most minimalist of all the inscriptions, in terms of information imparted, is this curious woodland-style headstone topped with a downward-facing dove, shown below: “With Sweet Thoughts of Phyllis from Mother and Father and Aubrey.” Given the lack of any useful information it is not surprising that there is no information on the entry for it on the Find A Grave website, but the headstone has charm, and the lack of data is really intriguing, because this was not an inexpensive monument. Chris tells me that her last name was Elias. There must have been a story here, but how to find it would need some extensive research that would require access to the original stonemason’s records.

“With Sweet Thoughts of Phyllis from Mother and Father and Aubrey,” Overleigh New Cemetery
Although it might be expected that headstones would give a wealth of information, this is rarely the case at Overleigh, although names, dates of birth and death and place names are a good place to begin with additional research.
There are several books and websites that list some of the most common cemetery themes and symbols, which are very helpful for decoding some gravestones and memorials.
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Visually personalized headstones

Memorial to Richard Price, Dee salmon fisher, who died in 1960 aged 59. Overleigh Old Cemetery
Personally commissioned scenes, where they are shown, are very specific. One of the most evocative is the gravestone that has a white marble section showing the Grosvenor Bridge, flanking trees on the river banks and a solitary, empty rowing boat moored in the middle of the river. It is dedicated to Richard Price, salmon fisherman, who died in 1960 aged 59. Salmon fishing on the Dee has its own history, well worth exploring, and Richard Price was one of the last to make a living from it. With Art Deco style wings either side, and an urn within the kerb, which could have been added at any time but appears to be in the same stone as the rest of the monument, it is an attractive and very personal dedication, becoming a little overgrown. Richard’s wife Rose, who died in 1987 aged 81, is also commemorated on the stone.
One of the more startling graves when seen from a distance, but completely charming and evocative when seen up close, is the full-colour section of a headstone to Vincent John Hedley, with a scene showing a fly-fisherman in a river or estuary with a rural scene, a rustic bridge, flying geese, an evergreen woodland, a bare hillside and a sunset or sunrise. It seems probable that Vincent John Hedley was a keen fly fisherman.

Vincent John Hedley, died 1997, aged 70. Overleigh Old Cemetery

Small section of an elaborate grave to Annie Myfanwy Roberts, died 1986, aged 73-74, showing photographs of family members.
A very well-tended grave in Overleigh New Cemetery is extremely monumental in its scope and intention, and includes photographs of the deceased, far more elaborate than the Anglican tradition but in keeping with the idea of the personalized scenes above that include visual as well as textual references to the personal. Whereas the two headstones above show evocative and nuanced scenes that suggest how lives were lived, the photographs of lost people show nothing of the lives that the people lived but are instant reminders of the faces of the departed, instantly emotive for the living, indicating a different way of thinking about and representing those who have been lost and are grieved for.
Materials
Although the most obvious thing about a grave is its shape, together with its ornamental elements, the choice of materials is also an essential part of the design of a monument, and helps to determine its appearance. As Historic England pointed out in their report Paradise Preserved, “the rich variety of stone within cemeteries represents a valued resource for the understanding and appreciation of geology.” The good news is that in 2012 Cheshire RIGS and the Northwest Geodiversity Partnership produced a five-page leaflet, Walking Through the Past: Overleigh Cemetery Geodiversity that describes some of the geological background to stone types used on gravestones at Overleigh Old Cemetery, which you can download as a PDF by clicking here.
Local red sandstone was a popular choice, the same material used to build Chester Cathedral. Yellow sandstone, presumably much of which came from the Cefn quarries in northeast Wales, is finer-grained and often easier to sculpt, but is very vulnerable to pollution and, as a result, de-lamination. Pale limestone and granite are available from British sources, and are scattered throughout the cemetery. Limestone is a sedimentary stone like the sandstones, and relatively soft and easy to sculpt, whereas granite is an igneous rock, very hard and enduring, often with a very attractive flecked texture, but far more difficult to shape. Imports from overseas include marble and various exotic granites, which are higher-status materials with smooth surfaces that lend themselves well to sculptural memorials. Rose granite, so beloved of the ancient Egyptians, is well represented, usually polished to a high gloss. The majority of modern headstones are in highly polished black granite. Local schools would probably welcome a geology trail through the cemetery.

Cross made of a composite of two different materials, with pieces of stone inserted rather coarsely into what looks like concrete and was probably a low-cost solution to a burial memorial.
As the 19th century rolled into the 20th century and transportation costs declined, imported stones became more common, particularly marbles and coloured granites. Closer to home, reconstituted (powdered and reformed) stone became a lower cost alternative to real stone, a common type of which was called coade stone. At first this resulted in an increased diversity of materials, forms and styles, but as the 20th century advanced, the whole business of burials became far more standardized. This is not a reflection of falling standards, but it is an indication of cultural change in general, where Anglican Christianity in particular is of less importance in Britain and where society tends to internalize loss rather than expressing it.
The only grave marker that I have spotted so far that is neither stone nor pseudo-stone is a single metal cross in Overleigh New Cemetery, shown just below, although I am sure that there must be others.
Some graves have inscriptions formed of lead letters, which makes them stand out to ensure that they are easy to read, but they have a very poor survival rate, with letters falling out, and only the pin-holes where they were affixed surviving. This can be sufficient to work out the original inscription, but makes some of the the headstones look rather derelict. In the example shown left, the lettering under the missing lead can still be made out, but this is rarely the case.
Combined, these different materials, with their very contrasting textures and colours, offer a far more diverse visual fare than the modern cemetery areas in both Overleigh and elsewhere, which are usually glossy black granite. They help to contribute to the sense of individuality and personal expression in the cemetery.

Black-painted metal memorial to Frederick, aged 66-77, and Alice Wynne, John Meacock and Robert and Alice Taylor.
Memorabilia and gifts

Bird on a plinth at the foot of Harriett Garner‘s grave
A gravestone was a fixed point, although not invulnerable, whilst gift of flowers, immortelles and other objects are the ore transient but personal markers of ongoing memories or the establishment of new connections between people and graves. As well as demonstrating a personal connection between the living and the dead, the offerings of all types help to keep the sense that the cemetery is still a place of relevance, where narratives continue to be written and rewritten, sometimes only in people’s individual minds, and sometimes shared amongst families and even amongst sections of specific communities.
In the next section, below, is a photograph of Mabel Francis Ireland-Blackburn, showing a three year old child lying in a bed. It is surrounded by modern memorabilia, including flowers (fresh and everlasting) and a variety of toys and other items.
Although it does not attract the same devotion as Mabel, the grave of the suicide Harriett Garner features a charming little bird, probably a robin, on a thoughtful makeshift stand accompanying the grave. It gives the grave a personal touch, something more intimate than the headstone itself, suggesting a sense of ongoing empathy and regret.

War grave of Marjorie Anne Tucker, Women’s Royal Air Force, died 1918 aged 32, with a textile wreath placed by the members of Handbridge Women’s Institute
In the baby cemetery area and the cremation Garden of Reflection in Overleigh Old Cemetery and in the area of recent graves in Overleigh New Cemetery there are many graves with personal memorabilia and gifts from the living to the departed, and these speak to the realities of grief and the importance of reinforcing memory through small gifts and commemorations.
Examples that are cared for by today’s cemetery regulars
Not all graves are appreciated exclusively by their families and descendants. Others have become interesting or even important to people who otherwise have no connections to the deceased. Some graves have attained something of a celebrity status, either because of their visual appeal or because of the reputation or story of their owners, and are particularly cared for by local people as well as by the Friends of Overleigh Cemetery. These graves form a sense of how modern minds can connect on a personal and private level with graves with which they have no familial connection.

Grimsby News, September 11th 1908, reporting the coffin of William Biddulph Cross (The British Newspaper Archive)
The nicely shaped but otherwise unremarkable headstone of electrical engineer William Biddulph Cross, who died in 1908, conceals an amusing story of a coffin made entirely of matchboxes, thousands of them, by William himself over a ten year period, a fact mentioned on the gravestone: “WILLIAM BIDDULPH CROSS / Who Passed Away September 5th 1908 / Aged 85 Years / Known By His Galvanic Cures / And The Maker Of His Own Coffin.” The “galvanic cures” refer to a somewhat scary electrical therapy device thought to be a cure-all for numerous ailments. You can read more about the device and the theory behind it on the National Archives website. The coffin became something of a local tourist attraction in its own right before William was laid to rest, and was widely reported in newspapers all over Britain. The newspaper paragraph to the right, for example, was reported in the Grimsby News. It has been suggested that the electrical fittings were for lighting, but interment before death was a fear throughout the entire Victorian period, and there are some examples of coffins being fitted with devices to allow those who had been mistakenly certified dead to be given a means of raising the alarm, and perhaps this is an alternative explanation. The grave also commemorates six other members of the family who died between 1870 and 1904. It is something of a puzzle to me as to why William BIddulph Cross was the first of these to be named but the last to die.

Mabel Francis Ireland-Blackburn, died 1869. Overleigh Old Cemetery
A particularly notable example is “chewing-gum girl,” which is a rather frightful name for a clearly much-loved grave, explained in Part 4. The grave is a very good example of a modern phenomenon where people feel a strong connection to a grave in the past and demonstrate their sense of affinity and empathy by visiting the grave and leaving items to keep the deceased company. The three year old girl, Mabel Francis Ireland-Blackburn, is represented in stone as a child lying in a bed, and is today surrounded by flowers (cut and artificial), small stone statuettes, toys, a teddy bear by her head, and other small gifts. She died of whooping cough, but was reputed to have suffocated on chewing-gum, becoming a warning anecdote told by parents to their children, in the form of a poem, of the dangers of following in her footsteps. Child grave memorials are discussed more in Part 4. The visual impact of this grave, with the sleeping or dead girl lying in her small bed, propped up on a pillow, is clearly the impetus for the gifts, demonstrating the power of the sculptural funerary image, but also the connection that adults feel for deceased children.
Whilst some graves attract particular attention and are well cared for, The Friends of Overleigh Cemetery are trying to look after the cemetery as a whole, tackling individual problems as they identify them and attempting to rescue stones that can be freed from vegetation without doing them damage.
Cemeteries and the bereaved today
The only new interments in the Old Cemetery are baby burials, segregated with respect and sorrow in a separate garden of their own, or where rights are retained to be interred in a family plot. The attractive cremation Garden of Reflection, with its hedges emulating ripples on the former lake, is also still in use, and it is possible that it will be extended. Both are clearly distinguished from the majority of graves of the previous two centuries by virtue of the fresh flowers and other gifts that are regularly provided. In the New Cemetery, the buildings are no longer in use for funerary activities, and the older part of the cemetery to a great extent resembles many parts of the Old Cemetery, but walk beyond these features and you will find yourself in a far more modern cemetery area, which is clearly frequently visited by family and friends. This is the newer style lawn cemetery where a compromise has been sought between the needs of relatives and the problems of maintenance. This will be discussed in Part 3.
Modern cemeteries issue rules and guidelines about the size and type of grave and grave marking permitted, in order to ensure that cemeteries are as easy to maintain as possible, whilst at the same time providing the bereaved with a place to visit and connect with their lost loved ones. This is a very difficult balance to strike, and local authorities who find themselves with the costly task of maintaining old cemeteries as well as modern ones, have the unenviable task of finding cost-effective ways of caring for these important sites of both past and present commemoration and memorialization. This is discussed further in Part 5.
Part 2 Final Thoughts

Yellow sandstone headstone of George Hamilton, son of Alexander and Mary, suffering from rather surrealistic de-lamination that looks like melting ice-cream, as well as a colonization of lichen. (Overleigh New Cemetery)
A graveyard is less about a place of the dead than a place of commemoration, the formation of individual, family and collective memories and the ongoing reinvention of ideas about how to deal with death. Those who have gone before us are still part of our lives, still form part of our physical landscape and can contribute to our inner ideas about mortality and the future. It is possible to get to know the dead than it is the living via their gravestones, their epitaphs and their stories. Individually these are interesting but collectively they combine with other buildings and institutions to contribute to our understanding of the Victorian period and changing funerary traditions thereafter. These changing fashions in funerary practice from the mid-19th century to the present day will be discussed in part 3.
Cemeteries have visitors who come to see particular graves, either due to regular tending of the grave and communion with the deceased, or to find a grave as part of genealogical research, or as for general or more formal interest into social history, art history and archaeological interest in death and memory.
Many of these graves, suffering from de-laminating or eroded inscriptions, and the invasion of ivy, as well as fallen headstones, highlight the importance not only of maintenance activities but of recording as many of the details on gravestones as possible in online, freely available databases.

Gothic style memorial to Thomas Ernest Hales, died 1906 aged 69. In the background are obelisks in rose granite, made popular when the antiquities of Egypt were first published
Cemeteries are fascinating places, and although modern sections are certainly rather understated and somber because of the signs of recent loss and sadness, older sections are very positive keepers of social history and human endeavor, reflecting choices and decisions by both the living and the deceased, in a wonderful arboretum of multiple tree species. These grave monuments lend themselves to close inspection and appreciation not just of the materials, shapes and symbols, but of the stories that they capture about past lives and how we learn about a city’s past through both the material and conceptual cues that cemeteries retain. The information on headstones can be a good place to start with an investigation in archives. This type of information gives a sense both of the communal identity of a provincial town, and the individual identities that make up that community. Of course, those who could not afford graves or were buried in communal graves that were the result of epidemics, are lost from this commemoration of the individual.
As before, my many thanks to Christine Kemp (Friends of Overleigh Cemetery) for all her practical help, her encyclopedic knowledge, and for checking over my facts. Any/all mistakes are my own. Do give me a yell if you find any.
I have quadruple-checked for typos etc, but some always get past me, for which my apologies.
References for all five parts are on a separate page on the blog here.
Overleigh Cemetery, Chester #1 – Introduction to its background and establishment

The Celtic cross style headstone of Robert Walter Russell (d.1909) and his wife Louisa Alma (d.1936) is on the left; the grave of Jane Whitley (d.1912), with its elaborate angel, topped with a cross and provided with a kerb and footstone (which is where the dedication is to be found), is on the right, erected by her husband Captain W.T Whitley, late Royal Artillery, who joined her there in 1936.
I have been to dozens of archaeological and historical burial sites, from prehistory onward, including famous monumental 19th century cemeteries in London, Paris and Havana, but the easiest by far to visit for someone based near Chester are local parish churchyards and the later dedicated Overleigh Old and New Cemeteries built during the Victorian period. Ironically, I know much more about the burial traditions of ancient Egypt than I do about those on my own doorstep. Up until now I have been repairing the gaps in my knowledge by visiting parish churchyards, but Overleigh Cemetery represents a different type of experience altogether, part graveyard and part public green space. Overleigh reflects the growth of urban populations in towns and cities “which massed people on a hitherto unimaginable scale” (Julie Rugg, 2008) and put unmanageable pressure on urban parish churchyards. It also demonstrates both a new idealism in the 19th century, the belief in the development of civic resources for the benefit of the general public, as well as the growing awareness of how disease was spread, the dangers of insanitary conditions, and the need for new approaches to public health. The Victorian cemetery introduced into suburban environments the down-scaled aesthetics of 18th century estate parkland, often with their associated Classical architectural features, made popular by landscape designers like Capability Brown. This touches on the complexities of the Victorian cemetery of which Overleigh was a smaller provincial form albeit clearly influenced by more elaborate examples.
Before I go any further, many thanks are due to Christine Kemp for her marvellous help when I started this mini-project. It would have taken me at least twice as long without her, probably a lot longer, and I would have made errors that she has put right, so I am in her debt. Chris has contributed 1000s of grave descriptions from this and other local cemeteries to findagrave.com, and is a founder member of the Friends of Overleigh Cemetery.
Where the findagrave.com website has an entry for a grave owner, I have added the hyperlink to the photographs used on this page for anyone who wants to read the inscriptions or find out more.
There will be five parts to this piece about Overleigh. Part 1 starts with a very brisk and short overview of Chester in the 19th Century and goes on to look at the establishment, in that context, of Overleigh Old Cemetery and Overleigh New Cemetery, followed by a short introduction to the objectives of research activities that can be carried out using cemetery material (discussed more in other parts) and some final comments. At the end it also lists the sources for the entire five-part series, which will be added to as the series is posted.
- Part 1: Introduction to the background and the establishment of Overleigh Cemetery
- Part 2: The living, the dead and the visitor at Overleigh,
- Part 3: Shifting ideas – the move away from monumental cemeteries towards cremations and lawn cemeteries
- Part 4: The research potential of cemeteries; and Overleigh case studies
- Part 5: The Overleigh Old and New Cemetery today and in the future
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Chester in the 19th century
Overleigh Old Cemetery opened in 1850, and the New Cemetery opened in 1879. To put this into some sort of context, here’s a very short gallop through Chester in the mid-19th century.

Chester Tramways Company Horsecar no.4 at Saltney. Source: Tramway Systems of the British Isles
Chester had been connected to the greater canal network in 1736, linking Chester with the Mersey, and was connected to the rail network by 1840, with today’s station opening in 1848. The Grosvenor Bridge opened in 1832, taking the pressure off the Old Dee Bridge. A horse-drawn tram was introduced in 1879 to link the railway station to Chester Castle and the racecourse. This was replaced by an electric service in 1903 after Chester built an electricity plant in 1896, which also allowed the 1817 gas lighting to be replaced. Improved communications brought more prosperity, and from the 1830s to the beginning of the 20th century, Chester had become an affluent town with a growing population. To accommodate this rapidly growing population the city suburbs expanded to the south of the river, with Middle Class suburbs developing at Curzon Park and Queen’s Park, with a new suspension bridge built in 1852 (the current one replaced it in 1923) to connect the latter to the town.

Chester Town Hall of 1869. Photograph by Jeff Buck, CC BY-SA 2.0
Signs of prosperity were everywhere. Commerce in the markets, shops and local trades thrived in the mid 19th century, and the sense of confidence and ambition was reflected in the expansion of the 18th century Bluecoat Hospital School, the building of the new Town Hall of 1869, the restoration of old buildings, and the establishment of new buildings, many in the style of earlier medieval half-timbering, as well as churches, including those for Dissenters. With its extensive retail, its race course, its regatta and its medley of fascinating architecture, Chester was becoming a popular destination for visitors, and a series of hotels were built to support the growing tourist industry.
Although the Industrial Revolution did not revolutionize Chester in the same way that it did in other towns and cities, it left its mark, although in a rather piecemeal fashion. As with most towns of the period it had light industry concentrated around the canal basin, as well as over the river in Saltney, and a declining shipbuilding industry. Industries included new steam mills, a lead works, an anchor and chain works, three oil refineries and a chemical works amongst other enterprises. Craft trades included tailoring, shoe-making, milliners, dressmaking, bookbinders, cabinet makers, jewelers and goldsmiths, amongst others. In both town and suburban houses domestic service was an important source of employment for the less well off, as was gardening. In line with the Victorian interest in civic works and promoting education and health, the Grosvenor Park opened in 1867 and the Grosvenor Museum in 1885.

Louise Rayner’s (1832–1924) painting of Eastgate Street and The Cross looking towards Watergate Street. Source: Wikipedia
Although the face of Chester seen by most people was a gracious attractive and prosperous one, there was also a lot of poverty. For those who were not quite on the breadline, but could not afford expensive accommodation a solution was provided by lodging houses of variable quality and pricing, which were growing in number to cater for both temporary visitors and more long-term residents. Far more troubling, there were also slum areas known as “the courts,” which housed the city’s poor. The St John’s parish became particularly notorious but these too were expanding, extending into the Boughton, Newtown and Hoole areas. As agriculture made increasing use of labour-saving techniques, former agricultural labourers and their families moved to urban centres to find work. At the same time, the appalling Irish Famine of 1845-52 drove starving people out of Ireland, and a large influx of impoverished Irish refugees, including entire families, expanded the poorest quarters of Chester and were a source of considerable concern to the authorities. Although charity and church schools took in some of the poorer children, the most impoverished and vulnerable, sometimes the children of criminals and certainly in danger of becoming criminals themselves, were not at first provided for but the problem was acknowledged and three free schools for impoverished children known as “ragged schools” were built, of which more in Part 4.
According to John Herson there was an economic decline after 1870, during which population numbers fell, and Chester became more focused on its retail and service industries and the development of its tourism. I recommend his chapter in Roger Swift’s Victorian Chester for more information about his discussion of the three phases of Chester’s Victorian past (see Sources at the end).
A solution to overflowing churchyards

Population in Chester and suburbs by year in 19th Century Chester. Source of data: John Herson 1996, Table 1.1, p.14
Polymath and diarist John Evelyn and architect Christopher Wren had both proposed out-of-town cemeteries in the 17th century, but their suggestions had fallen on deaf ears. An exception was the famous Dissenter cemetery at Bunhill Fields, established from a sense of spiritual necessity.
The rising population that lead the living to move to new areas around Chester, was also a problem for churchyards. The condition of Chester’s city churchyards was very poor, in common with other cities and towns throughout the country, and as the population expanded the situation in churchyards became somewhat desperate, and the new cemeteries were a necessity. John Herson’s chapter in Roger Swift’s Victorian England provides a table of population figures for Chester and its suburbs from 1821 to 1911, and this shows that the population was rising rapidly. Rising populations and the concentration of people in towns had lead to parish church cemeteries becoming problematic all over Britain. This was infinitely worse in big-city urban environments where manufacturing industries had become major employers, where the lack of churchyard capacity led to some truly dreadful, squalid scenes representing appalling health risks, but even in a county town like Chester the problem was very real and churchyards there too were struggling to meet demand.

George Alfred Walker’s “Gatherings from Graveyards“
Complaints were growing about the unsanitary condition of full intramural graveyards, and the risks that this represented. Typhoid, typhus, scarlet fever, tuberculosis, measles, influenza and cholera, were all infectious diseases that were common in Victorian England, and the establishment of new graveyards for minimizing risk was becoming increasingly important as the links between health and sanitation were established. Jacqueline Perry says that between 1841 and 1847 the annual average was 700 burials in Chester alone.
Those arguing for a new cemetery in Chester as a response to this problem were able to point to other specialized graveyards in Britain and overseas. Bigger city cemeteries had been established earlier in the 19th century in Paris (in 1804 Père La Chaise was the first municipal cemetery in western Europe), Liverpool (Liverpool Low Hill opened in 1825 and St James’s Cemetery opened in 1829). In 1830 George Carden, after years of campaigning, organized a meeting to discuss how to improve the burial situation in London and Kensal Green opened in 1833, which initiated “The Magnificent Seven” ring of London cemeteries. Glasgow’s remarkable Necropolis followed in 1833.
In 1839 surgeon George Alfred Walker published his Gatherings from Graveyards (including the subtitle And a detail of dangerous and fatal results produced by the unwise and revolting custom of inhuming the dead in midst of the living), which drew uncompromising attention to some of the horrors of churchyards, encouraging burial reform and the wider adoption of the out-of-town cemetery. I have provided a link to an online copy of this book in the Sources, but it is absolutely not for the faint-hearted. Although this trend was challenged by the Church of England, which derived an income from burial fees, the need was acute, and parish churches were compensated for their loss of income. Most of these new cemeteries were commercial, charging for burials and paying dividends to investors from their profits.

Mourning clothes were a major investment in the Victorian funeral ceremonies. Source: Wikipedia
There was also clearly a psychological need for new cemeteries with neatly defined and delineated plots for individuals and families, and the space to commemorate and mourn loved ones. As James Stevens Curl explains: “It could never be said that the Victorians buried their dead without ceremony. Apart from the immediate family, all the distant relatives would be present . . . Friends, business associated, acquaintances would all appear . . . A dozen or sometimes more coaches therefore followed the hearse.” The acts of observance and the rituals associated with death in the Victorian period, and the traditions associated with the bereavement that followed interment were elaborate, encoded and important to Victorian religious beliefs and social conventions. These beliefs and conventions were part of a deeply felt attitude to death and how it should be handled. They were also opportunities to display wealth and status for those who had it. The new landscape-style cemeteries offered the opportunity to carry out these various rituals at each stage of bereavement after loss with dignity and ceremony.
Following the new cemeteries and the success of the concept, cemetery design became a recognized field of endeavor for landscape designers and architects, and the best known cemetery designer, although by no means the first or even the best, was probably John Claudius Loudon, who consulted on a number of projects before publishing his 1843 On the Laying Out, Planting and Managing of Cemeteries, which became an important source of practical advice and creative ideas for many private enterprises. Loudon’s intentions are captured in these two statements from the beginning of his book:

Cemetery design for a hilly location by Thomas Loudon, 1834, showing a similarly sinuous arrangement as Overleigh, but with the building centred at the heart of the cemetery. Source: Loudon 1843
The main object of a burial-ground is, the disposal of the remains of the dead in such a manner as that their decomposition, and return to the earth from which they sprung, shall not prove injurious to the living; either by affecting their health, or shocking their feelings, opinions, or prejudices.
A secondary object is, or ought to be, the improvement of the moral sentiments and general taste of all classes, and more especially of the great masses of society.
The means by which Loudon proposed to address his “secondary object” was by introducing a sense of serenity, providing fresh air and a sense of nature, and encouraging contemplation. At the time disease was thought to be conveyed by “miasmas” or vapours, not entirely unsurprising given how bad cesspits, uncovered drains and overfilled graveyards smelled, and trees were thought to assist with the absorption of miasmas, helping to promote good health and prevent the spread of disease. Often his designs were based on a grid, like the 1879 Overleigh New Cemetery, but his above design for cemeteries on hills and slopes, like the Overleigh Old Cemetery was more forgiving.

Sculptural monument on a plinth dedicated to land agent and surveyor Henry Shaw Whalley, d.1904
After the 1850s commercial cemeteries were not the standard way of establishing new cemeteries. The Metropolitan Interments Act allowed for burial grounds to be purchased by a civic authorities, which was itself replaced by a new Act of Parliament in 1852 when Burial Boards were established, after which publicly funded cemeteries became the norm.
One of the results of the new cemeteries, with individual plots dedicated to single individuals or to families, was that graves became part of the domestic sphere of families, part of their personal real estate. In an elaborate cemetery this might include personal family mausolea and vaults, but at a more modest provincial cemetery like Overleigh, it usually consisted of a sculptural element or a headstone with a kerb and sometimes a footstone, although at Overleigh footstones are unusual (all the elements are in the grave shown at the top of the page, on the right). This created a clearly defined space in which family and friends could commemorate their dead with gifts of flowers and sometimes additional memorabilia. The main sculpture or headstone, usually of stone but occasionally of metal, was itself a medium for expression, combining shapes, symbolic and sentimental imagery, and text to express ideas about both the dead and their relationship to the living. The kerbs were usually visited and the dead were gifted fresh flowers or immortelles (more permanent artificial flowers presented in suitable vessels or frames, sometimes under a glass dome).
Overleigh Old Cemetery
Overleigh Old Cemetery, very convenient for Chester residents without intruding on the town itself, lies just across the Grosvenor Bridge, its northern border running along the south bank of the river Dee. It has gateways from the Grosvenor Bridge, Overleigh Road and River Lane which converge on the monument of, cenotaph to William Makepeace Thackeray, a Chester doctor and benefactor. Although this is the oldest of the two halves of the cemetery, it is still in use today for new cremation memorials in its maze-like hedged memorial area (actually designed to look like ripples on the lake that once occupied the space), as well as an enclosed area for interments and cremated ashes of babies, which is inevitably particularly sorrowful. Overleigh Old Cemetery is often used as a short-cut from the Grosvenor Bridge to the walkway along the Dee, and presumably as its designer Thomas Penson originally intended, always has the feeling of a public park as much as a cemetery, although up until late August 2024, there has been nowhere to sit. A bench supplied by the Friends of Overleigh Cemetery has helped to bring the cemetery further into the public domain.
The cemetery was established by The Chester Cemetery Act in 1848. Chester’s City Surveyor, Mr Whally had held a public inquiry at the Town Hall to discuss the urgent need of a new extramural cemetery. Overleigh was established by a private company named the Chester General Cemetery Company, which was formed by an Act of Parliament on 22nd July 1848. According to Historic England, the cemetery site was owned by the Marquis of Westminster who exchanged it for a shareholding in the company. The cost of the cemetery was estimated at £5000 but the company blew its budget and in 1849 work was forced to stop for seven months until new shareholders could be found. The thinking behind it was, much like the Grosvenor Park and the museum, as much a matter of civic pride as it was a practicality. However, unlike the park or the museum, the cemetery was intended to turn a profit, and was essentially a retail operation, selling or renting burial plots, paying for its own maintenance and offering a return on shareholder investment, and providing a valuable service to residents at the same time.

Crypt Chambers, Eastgate Street. Source: Wikipedia
Overleigh Old Cemetery was designed by Thomas Mainwaring Penson (1818–1864), the surveyor and architect responsible for, amongst other Chester buildings, the 1858 Crypt Chambers and the 1868 Grosvenor Hotel, both on Eastgate Street. The original layout of Overleigh Old Cemetery is preserved in an engraving from sometime after it opened, shown below, probably in the later 1850s.
Following the model already established in Paris, Belfast, Glasgow, Liverpool and London, this was a garden- or landscape-type cemetery, planned to emulate a large garden or small park. When compared with some of the vast architectural entrances to the great Victorian cemeteries of Liverpool, Glasgow, London and elsewhere (see, for example, Kensal Green or, in a different style, the Glasgow Necropolis) the gates at Overleigh are a mere nod to a transitional zone between the busy outside world and the quiet necropolis within, with modest pillars and iron gates, shown above. The buildings that were once just inside each gate, the entrance lodges, will have given more of sense of entry and exit than the entrances retain today. Something of that effect can be seen over the road at Overleigh New Cemetery where the lodge building survives. The funeral cortege would stop here to be formally received and recorded before proceeding to the burial site.

Overleigh Cemetery. Source: Wikipedia
The cemetery was landscaped with sinuous wide driveways winding down the hill towards a lake, laid out over an area of some 12 acres. In the engraving to the right there are six buildings, none of which survive today. I have no information about why they were taken down, but assume that they had fallen out of use and were becoming a problem to maintain. Two of them are lodges at the Grosvenor Bridge and River Lane gates of the cemetery, used by cemetery superintendents and officials, and housing cemetery records. One of the lodges was apparently removed in 1967. Chris has a plan of the cemetery dating to 1875 that identifies the church-like buildings at the top and the one by the lake as mortuary chapels (the one by the lake was for Dissenters), whilst the building behind the temple-style monument to Robert Turner was the Chaplain’s house. It may have had rather good views over the bridge and the river. The tiny building at centre left was probably a grounds-man’s hut, used for storing tools.

The headstone of Harriett Garner (d.1905) and other family members. Harriett was a suicide, but because the inquest found her to be temporarily insane, and therefore innocent of crime, she was allowed to be buried in a consecrated grave
The 1847 Cemeteries Clause Act (section 36) stated that a new cemetery contain both consecrated and unconsecrated land and there were usually two chapels, one Anglican and one for Dissenters. The provision for non-Anglican graves had become particularly important because of the Nonconformist movement, which had grown from strength to strength. Non-denominational chapels of rest, where the deceased could be laid before interment, were a characteristic feature of the new cemeteries. The idea of including unconsecrated land was to ensure that a cemetery should exclude no-one, including suicides who were declared sane at the time of their deaths (those judged to be insane when they committed suicide were considered to be innocent), unbaptized children and those of non-Anglican religions. Chris showed me where, indicated by marker stones, there is a section for Roman Catholics and another for Dissenters, whilst pauper graves, some of which surprisingly have headstones, are dotted throughout the cemetery. For those short of funds, there were burial club schemes, a little like life assurance today, where people could pay in a regular amount to save up for a proper ceremony and gravestone.
Plantings to give the garden cemetery its Arcadian feel included both deciduous and evergreen trees. The use of deciduous trees was counter to Loudon’s advice, as in his view they grew too fast, became too big, dropped leaves that had to be cleared up, and looked ugly with bare branches in the winter, but at Overleigh the combination provides a marvelous mixture of colours, textures and shapes for most of the year. The trees are worth a study in their own right, including some very unusual specimen varieties. The now truly massive and splendid redwoods and traditional yew trees, both of them evergreen and long-lasting, often represent the hope for eternal life, and the sheer variety of specimen deciduous trees is remarkable and if anyone out there happens to be a tree expert and would like to help me out with some identifications, I would be grateful!

The William Thackeray cenotaph that sits at the conjunction of the cemetery drives. A huge beech tree stands behind it, and in front of it is a big horse chestnut; the trees in Overleigh are one of its most appealing features
The lake was eventually filled in, a very nice feature but presumably something of a problem to maintain and probably a risk to children and of course was using up land that could be used for more graves. Partially in its place is a cremation area made of concentric hedging to emulate the ripples on the former lake. The cremation memorial will be discussed in part 3. The rustic bridge to the right of the lake on the engraving remains in situ, although the land either side of it is being used as a dumping ground for clearance works, which will eventually biodegrade and build up the soil level around the arch bases, which is a real shame.
The William Thackeray monument, at the confluence of the Old Cemetery drives has already been mentioned, but in the engraving above, the tall, slender temple-style monument shown at top right of the image, which commemorated brewer and wine merchant Robert Turner, who was Sheriff of Chester in 1848. The plinth now sits directly over the base, with the fallen pillars at its side. The engravings are on the floor of the base, which would once have been visible by walking into the monument and looking down, one for Robert Turner and one for his wife, which are shown on the findagrave.com website (by Chris Kemp). There’s a certain amount of irony in its demise, as over the course of the Victorian period the brewery industry also went into a state of terminal decline. Work was done by Blackwells Stonecraft to prevent it sliding down the slope in 2022.

Robert Turner’s grave (d.1852) as it now appears in the oldest part of Overleigh Old Cemetery. Christine Kemp has posted a fascinating photograph of it under repair in 2022 on the findagrave website at https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/195750339/robert_hugh-turner/photo#view-photo=247132692
Overleigh New Cemetery

Overleigh New Cemetery, with the Greek Orthodox church, formerly a cemetery chapel, in the background
Overleigh New Cemetery, established in 1879, lies to the south of the Old Cemetery, with the Duke’s Drive running along its southern boundary, accessible via its entrance on Overleigh Road, opposite the entrance to the Old Cemetery, which gives some sense of continuity, and this too is still in use. Overleigh New Cemetery, established in 1879, is a more obviously lower budget incarnation, all on the flat, its driveways laid out on a grid that divides the cemetery into raised rectangles. Loudon’s book had layouts very like this in his 1843 book, although they weren’t amongst his more imaginative designs. They did, however, have the essential idea that Loudon proposed of trees and shrubs to create a healthy and contemplative experience, and these are largely missing from Overleigh New Cemetery, except around the very edges. By virtue of the fact that it does not serve as a route to anywhere else, and is essentially a cul-de-sac, it is more peaceful than the Old Cemetery but has less of a feeling of community.
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There is a small and beautifully maintained section dedicated to Commonwealth War Grave Commission graves, and managed by the Commonwealth War Grave Commission itself, is an important reminder of the sacrifices that were made, although graves dedicated to those who lost their lives in combat are also dotted through both the Old and New cemeteries. These are planted with evergreen and flowering shrubs, and carry just the right balance of dignity, solemnity and floral tribute. It was decided, when they were originally designed that there should be no distinction between graves of different rank so the headstones are all made according to a standardized template, differentiated by the regimental crest and or badge, the ranks and of course the names of the deceased.

One of the chapels in Overleigh New Cemetery, a Designated Heritage Asset in the Cheshire West and Cheshire “Chester Characterisation Study”
There are four buildings in the New Overleigh Cemetery. The largest is the West Chapel, now Saint Barbara’s Orthodox Church. Historic England states that it was built in the style of John Douglas in the early 20th Century. Chester Council made it available to the Greek Orthodox church in the 1980s and it opened its doors to congregations in 1987. It attracts a congregation from a very wide area and prevents the site feeling entirely field-like. Also assisting in this sense of place rather than space is a lodge that sits near the Overleigh Road entrance but is now apparently used as a private residence. The small chapel, now used as a base for cemetery workers, is a lovely little thing with a few nice decorative features inside and out and some understated stained glass consisting of small square panels in quiet colours. It was nicely thought through when it was built, and is now a Designated Heritage Asset.
The other building, recently fenced off presumably due to the sorry state of repair, making it look like a complete eyesore, is the former grave-digger’s hut, a charming brick-built building, described as “an important historical feature” in the Handbridge Neighbourhood Plan. It is clearly in urgent need of help.
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Headstone of Frederick Coplestone, d.1932 and members of his family by sculptor Eric Gill, showing St Francis of Assisi (Grade 2* listed)
When you first enter the New Cemetery, the initial impression given by the repeated lines of headstones is that the cemetery is less obviously interesting than the variety of shapes and sizes over the road. This is, however, partly an illusion caused by the grid-like horizontal layout. Closer inspection of the older sections, nearest to Overleigh Road, demonstrates that these too offer an enormous amount of variety that provides insights into personal preferences and choices, and certain very specific affiliations. The graves here, many of them more recent than those at the Old Cemetery, offer a rather different sense of style and character, of different experiments with more personalized design and symbol as new trends emerged. There are, for example, some interesting Art Nouveau and Art Deco examples that I have not noticed in the Old Cemetery.—-
As you head to the extremities furthest from the road, you will see less of these mainly earlier 20th century monuments and find yourself confronted with the more modern emblems of British commemoration of the dead. These are generally smaller and plainer, often with flowers or other memorabilia, and reflect a changing attitude to memorializing the dead. The further on you go, the more you find yourself in the sort of “lawn cemetery” concept that is becoming increasingly popular for public cemeteries, with small memorials. Although this is much less aesthetically engaging than the older cemeteries, it does reflect an interesting change in mortuary practices that will be discussed further in parts 4 and 5.
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Family Research
It does not take a great deal of imagination to see that a cemetery like Overleigh contains an enormous amount of information about people who have lived and died in and near Chester. Most of this information comes from words on gravestones, although some general comments can be made about the imagery employed and the design of the grave monuments themselves. There is as much fashion as there is tradition, all mingled together. Classical elements, Gothic Revival, Art Deco, Art Nouveau are all here, and in Overleigh New Cemetery the differences between Anglican and Roman Catholic graves are often particularly striking. One way of learning more about the cemetery as a whole is by taking the Stories in Stone walking tour with one of Chester’s excellent Green Badge Guides, which takes visitors on a tour of the main features and some particularly interesting graves.

Grave of William Pinches (d.1929), Overleigh New Cemetery
The most common motivation for conducting research at cemeteries is to find the grave of an ancestor or loved one, whilst others find real interest in the individual stories told by gravestones via design, symbol and inscription. Although Overleigh is so large that it may all seem like a challenge to make sense of it all, if you know the name of the grave’s owner, the findagrave.com website is an excellent database containing details of the grave and its owner, where known, together with any interesting stories that might be connected with either the grave or the owner. Chris Kemp alone has been responsible for researching and adding literally thousands of graves in Overleigh and elsewhere in the Chester area since she began to record them over 12 years ago. There are other online databases that do something similar, but findagrave.com is probably the most accessible resource for Overleigh. Note that findagrave.com divides the cemetery into the Old Cemetery and the New Cemetery for search purposes. Chris points out that until 1879 when the Overleigh New Cemetery was built, the Overleigh Old Cemetery was at that time known and referred to in documents as the “new cemetery.”
The Cheshire Archives and Local Studies service has some excellent online resources, and as well as their Overleigh Cemetery 1850-1950 database (it’s not the most user-friendly interface, so do watch the video about how to use it here), there are many other sources of local information about individuals, institutions and business in their online Archive Collections, including parish records, the electoral register, business directories, court sessions and poor law and workhouse records.
Amongst many other activities, Chris Kemp receives emails from people looking for graves from outside the area, and sometimes overseas, and tracks down the graves for them, a valuable and time-consuming task, as she receives at least half a dozen every week, which she hunts down every Saturday, and which demonstrate how much the cemetery, on both sides of the road, continues to contribute to people’s investigations of their past and their sense of a link with their family history.
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Part 1 Final Comments
Many of the first out-of-town cemeteries were conceived of as memorial parklands that were designed to balance the natural and the man-made, to harmonize different needs and priorities. Although at Overleigh each of the two halves of the cemetery has a different personality, both combine monument and commemoration within a designed space where the dead and the living can peacefully coexist. The graves themselves, some of them impressive, others very modest, never reach the heady heights of London’s “Magnificent Seven” with their extravagant mausolea and world-famous names, but in the details, the variations and subtleties, and of course in the engravings, there is a very real sense for visitors of mingling with the lives of Chester residents and getting to know something about the population at large.

Detail from the headstone of Margaret Roberts (d.1900), Overleigh Old Cemetery
The gravestone is, just as much as items given pride of place in the home and passed between generations, both an object and a commodity. It was manufactured, chosen, customized, purchased and curated. Even within its own funerary landscape, the funerary monument had a role within the home, in that it formed part of a personal experience of the world, a form of mental mapping that includes places beyond the front door but are endowed with a personal value. They become part of a much wider family and social landscape than their physical location in a cemetery. This means that there is a social and cultural history component to be researched in large cemeteries that offers a different type of record from documentary resources. I will talk more about the role of cemetery research in social and cultural history in Part 4.
Overleigh is a place where relatives can visit their loved ones or carry out genealogical research into their ancestors and where social history can be investigated. At the same time it needs to be respected and to be recognized as a vulnerable piece of local heritage. One of the most important questions about any monument or object is what happens when it is no longer valuable to someone, when the useful life for which it was intended comes to an end. At this point, so many bad decisions have been made in Britain about the value of buildings and objects to social and cultural history, and there is a need to ensure that cemeteries like Overleigh continue to both support and inform the living. This will be discussed further in part 5.
Part 2, only part-written at the moment, will look at how the living and the deceased are both incorporated into a common language of the necropolis, and how gravestones are used to express complex ideas about the dead.
***
With sincere thanks again to Christine Kemp for giving me a guided tour of both parts of Overleigh Cemetery at the beginning of August 2024, and then guiding me to find specific graves and helping me to understand different aspects of the cemeteries when I met her again at the end of August, and for offering ongoing help. In this and the following parts, she has been a splendid source of information, fact-checking and guidance. Any errors are, of course, all my own work!
Sources:
The books and papers and websites used in all the parts are listed in their own page. Splitting them up over the various parts does not make much sense because so many of them are used time and time again and listing the sources in one place makes it easier for anyone wanting to print off the full list.
The list of references for this post has become ridiculously long, so instead of listing them here on the page I have copied them onto their own page on the blog at
https://basedinchurton.co.uk/walking/overleigh/
A short comment on the missing past of St Mary’s Nunnery, Chester
I have been trying to find a publication of the excavations that took place when the profoundly ugly Chester HQ office development was built on the site of St Mary’s Nunnery and its cemetery. This lead me to the article by Professor Howard Williams below. Outside the Chester HQ buildings is a very odd permanent display area made of red sandstone displaying bits and pieces of random archaeology. I’ve thought it was peculiar for a very long time, one of these token gestures, neither fish nor fowl, that are usually funded by developers when they build over the top of heritage sites. It has no cohesive message, no coherent linkage between any of the objects, and is anyway missed by most passers-by. This excerpt from a very nicely written article by Professor Williams (University of Chester), posted in 2017, really gets to the nub of the matter.
https://howardwilliamsblog.wordpress.com/2017/03/22/unethical-medieval-nuns-on-display/:
I see the vision but I can’t really get my head around the reality in a sympathetic way. Rather than evoking a history of place, reporting on the contexts discovered and the rich and varied social, economic, political and religious history of the city and this site’s place within it, instead we get a transtemporal pastiche. This is little more than a banal and context-free open-air cabinet of curiosities that shamelessly aggrandises the corporate architecture of the 21st century and its construction facilitated by the rifling of past times.
He goes on to discuss the display of one particular object, a truly lovely medieval stone grave cover with a fabulous decorative theme that represented the Tree of Life. It would have been laid horizontally over the grave, covering the deceased, but here is displayed vertically. This is really well worth a read if you are interested in heritage management, respect towards funerary monuments and contexts, the activities of developers with respect to the heritage they impact and the role of object histories. Loving the phrase ” transtemporal pastiche,” which gets it in one. Professor Williams never disappoints.
Back on the subject of the archaeological excavations, it was also interesting to note that in a 2013 article Professor Williams notes the following:
Archaeologist Mike Morris of Cheshire West and Chester Council was forced to announce that the developer – Liberty Properties – was in breach of their agreement [Cheshire Live] by not funding post-excavation adequately following the excavations at the HQ building revealing graves from Chester’s Benedictine nunnery. The website of Earthworks Archaeology – the commercial archaeologists who excavated the remains associated with the Benedictine Nunnery – says that post-excavation is ‘under way’.
The Cheshire Live article says that not only were there remains of 100 individuals from the cemetery at the nunnery site, but “foundations for at least one large Roman town house were discovered including an undisturbed mosaic floor – the first to be found in Chester since 1909.” The Earthworks Archaeology site announces: “The practice is currently on sabbatical.” There is no additional content and the website says nothing at all now. If anyone has any information about the excavations I would be grateful? But I suspect that it’s a horribly lost cause.

The last remaining structural feature of St Mary’s Nunnery – a 15th century archway that now stands in the Grosvenor Park.
Excavation without publication is an archaeological evil. If the remains carefully troweled out of the ground are not professionally published, the information is lost forever, the data never contributing to knowledge about the city as a whole and about the nunnery’s history in particular. It is the responsibility of an excavation not merely to extract data from the ground, but to share it. Anything else is an abdication of responsibility, and the loss of an important story. If the excavation results are never published, how will we ever understand what there was to know about St Mary’s? Where contracts are granted for this sort of work, surely the conditions of those contracts should be enforced.
The 1715 “Old Dock” – The earliest of Liverpool’s commercial docks, preserved beneath the Liverpool ONE shopping centre
Introduction

The Eyes map of Liverpool showing Old Dock on a previous tidal inlet and enclosed within the streets of an expanding Liverpool in 1765, 50 years after it first opened. Later docks were laid out along the foreshore. Source: National Museums Liverpool
Earlier in summer 2024 I went on the Old Dock tour in Liverpool when it was offered one Sunday. Old Dock, of which only one corner remains to be visited, was perhaps Liverpool’s most important commercial and civil engineering initiative at a time when Chester’s port was going into decline and Liverpool had the opportunity to become the trading centre for the northwest.
Old Dock in Liverpool, the first of Liverpool’s impressive network of enclosed docks, opened in 1715, to the design of civil engineer Thomas Steers. It is Europe’s oldest enclosed cargo-handling dock. What remains of Old Dock is underground, beneath the “Liverpool ONE” shopping centre. Its lock gates can no longer be visited, but remain under The Strand (the modern dual carriageway that runs along the line of the old foreshore). Only the northeastern corner of the dock is accessible to visitors, and has been provided with a gantry and information panels, and its history is presented to pre-booked groups by an excellent guide. I’ve added details about booking and the tour itself at the end of the post under “Visiting.” The following looks at some of the history of Old Dock.

The 1699 Howland Great Wet Dock in London. British Library HMNTS 10349.ff.9.. Source: Wikipedia
Old Dock was modelled on the Howland Great Wet Dock, shown right, built in 1699, which was built to shelter ships, mainly of the East India Company, in the days when ships over-wintering on the Thames were regularly subjected to both storm damage and piracy. It was surrounded by a double planting of trees to help protect the ships within and had shipbuilding dry docks at its entrance. It was a convenient place to carry out repairs and to ready ships for the upcoming season, but was not used for handling cargo so was not a commercial trading dock. The Howland Great Wet Dock was built in a rural space on the south of the Thames in what is now the residential Surrey Quays area of southeast London, and was replaced in the 18th century by Greenland Dock, which itself became part of the Surrey Commercial Docks.
The commercial argument for Old Dock
Liverpool was established by a charter of King John in 1207 and was provided with a castle in 1235. At this time, however, Chester was the main northwestern port, and Liverpool did not become a commercial giant until the 18th and 19th centuries, and this required some pioneering Victorian thinking and civil engineering before it really took off as one of Britain’s leading ports. Old Dock is at the heart of this story.

Painting of Liverpool in 1680, from the Old Dock display area. Unknown artist. The original is held by the National Maritime Museum. See more (and a better image) on ArtUK
Before the docks, the Mersey was not the easiest of rivers to use in an age of sail partly due to strong winds but also because of the twice-daily tidal events that swept down the estuary. An additional problem was that due to the dumping of rubbish and ships’ ballast along the river edges, deep-sea shipping was unable to approach the river banks to offload and reload. It could also become very busy with river traffic of all shapes and sizes. The handling of cargo on the Mersey was achieved by mooring ships in the main channel and loading and offloading them with lighters – unpowered boats into which the cargo was loaded by hand, then rowed to shore, and offloaded by hand. This could only be carried out between tidal events, confining the activity to around 5 hours a day. To empty a single ship averaging 150 tons could take between two and three weeks.
The engineering success of the Howland dock enterprise inspired MP Thomas Johnson, who was both a successful merchant a slave trader, to approach one of the engineers probably responsible for the Howland dock, George Sorocold, to discuss the viability of a similar dock for Liverpool. Johnson, however, saw the greater potential of an enclosed inland dock, not for over-wintering ships but for creating a cargo-handling facility to radically improve speed and efficiency. Under The Dock Act of 1708 a Common Council of leading city figures was established to became trustees of the proposed dock, which they operated through council committees. The risk of doing it this way rather than as a private enterprise was that failure could have put the entire city finances in jeopardy. Thomas Steers from London was the civil engineer appointed in 1709 to make this a reality, only a decade after the opening of the Howland Great Wet Quay on which he had probably also worked. Initially costs had been estimated at £6000, but this was a serious underestimation and eventually the dock cost more than double this amount.
Building and opening the dock
The dock was lined with bricks in the upper sections with local red sandstone in the lower courses. I am accustomed to the later Surrey Commercial Docks in southeast London, where I used to live, which are lined with stone much like Liverpool’s Albert Dock, so the sight of a brick-lined dock seemed extraordinary to me. The bricks were made on site from local clays, with a dedicated kiln built for the task, and a special mortar was used to resist the incursion of water.
The result of all the investment, civil engineering and labour was Old Dock, which opened in 1715 at the mouth of a former tidal inlet or creek. Up to a hundred ships could be taken into the 3.5 acre dock via a 30ft wide entrance lock and could draw up against the quayside to offload without the use of lighters. Because of the tides, ships could only enter the dock at the top half of the tide, but a 1.5 acre tidal entrance basin was provided as a waiting area. By drawing ships up against the quayside, three weeks could be reduced to just one to two days. The proof of concept was soon confirmed.

The area around the dock was soon surrounded by residential, commercial, retail and service industry premises. Excerpt from a poster from the Old Dock exhibition area.
An entire new residential, commercial, retail and service industry quarter grew up around the dock, which became known as the Merchants’ Quarter. As well as homes, warehousing and other commercial facilities there were lodging houses for sailors, and less salubrious businesses that catered to their needs. This is a good illustration of the sort of process of urban sprawl that follows on from a specific industrial development.
Old Dock was such a notable success that new docks were soon opened, and the Liverpool foreshore began its transformation. During the 18th century South Dock, also built by Thomas Steers (later Salthouse Dock) opened 1753, George’s Dock opened 1771, King’s Dock opened and Queen’s Dock opened in 1796. It is a measure of the success of the dock concept, Old Dock having been established 53 years before Bristol’s first dock, that between 1772 and 1805 the total tonnage of shipping increased from 170,000 to 670,000, with foreign shipping increasing from 20,000 to 280,000. By the end of the 19th century 9% of all world trade passed through the Liverpool docks, and there were 120 acres of enclosed docks along 10km (7 miles) of Liverpool’s foreshore.
Closure of the dock
Old Dock itself closed in 1826 mainly because as ship sizes increased, in terms of width, length and depth, it became increasingly obsolete. It did not help either that the dock had become surrounded with other buildings and could not easily expand without considerable destruction. Instead, the development of docks beyond the existing foreshore seemed like a better option and this is what happened.
This new use of enclosed docks for cargo-handling was pioneered at Old Dock in Liverpool, creating the first revolution in cargo handling in the UK. To provide additional real estate for the rapidly growing city, most of the dock was infilled and built over, so this one remaining corner is a significant survivor from Liverpool’s early development as a major trading port.
Final Comments
Much of what is known about Liverpool’s earliest docks comes from the archaeological investigations that took place between 1976 and 2009. Old Dock was examined prior to the building of Liverpool One by Oxford Archaeology between 2001 and 2006. The remains of Old Dock are designated a site of Outstanding Universal Value.
It is difficult to over-emphasize how important London’s Howland Great Wet Dock and Liverpool’s Old Dock were to the development of maritime trade in Britain. With an enclosed dock designed by Thomas Steers, the Old Dock set Liverpool firmly on the path for trading success throughout the 18th century and the commercial and architectural triumphs of the Victorian period.
Visiting
Booking details, opening times, ticket prices and everything else you need to know are on the Old Dock Tour website.
At the time of writing the meeting point shown on one place on Google Maps is in a different location from the one that is shown on the Old Dock Tours website, and the latter is the correct one. I don’t know Liverpool at all and I was confused by the directions on the website, partly because I had no idea what a “Q-Park” might be when it escaped from its burrow, so I arrived early to make sure that I was in the right place, which was on the Thomas Steers Way entrance to the “Q-Park” (the Liverpool ONE car-park), on the left as you head up from the Mersey, near the base of the Sugar House Steps. Here’s the What3Words address for that location, which is traffic-free, but do check on the website or your ticket that this remains the same meeting place: https://what3words.com/found.farm.gent. Have your ticket handy to be checked, either printed out or on your device.
This is a guided tour. You receive an excellent lecture as you walk to the dock via a wall-sized map of old Liverpool, and then stand on the gantry looking down into the dock. Our guide was informative, humorous and engaging, parting with a staggering amount of information in an easily digestible way. It is always a mark of how well a guide does when there are questions afterwards, people wanting to explore specific aspects of the story, and there were lots of questions. I used to live overlooking Greenland Dock in London, and the remnants of the Surrey Commercial Docks were my home for twenty years. Opposite was Canary Wharf, where the former East India and West India quays are preserved and the Museum of London Docklands is located. It was a real dock heritage experience, so it was particularly nice to go to Liverpool and have someone bring this particular old dock to such vivid life.
If you are dealing with unwilling legs, there is a flight of steps with a banister to hold onto. I forgot to count, but I would guess perhaps ten steps, down from the car park entrance into the dock area. There is then a gantry (metal walkway) across the remaining part of the dock, with high sides to hang on to. There is nowhere to sit, so a portable perch of some sort might be useful whilst you are listening to the talks.
I had not realized that it was the schools’ half term break. Half-term was a poor day to visit Liverpool, and on the tour there were two completely uncontrolled young children running around and yelling their heads off. A less child-intensive day would be better if it can be arranged. There’s not a lot for young children to see on this walk anyway, although an older child seemed to be enjoying it very much.
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Sources
Most of the above details came from the guided tour. I did not want to detract from that so I have not gone into greater detail here, but I did use some additional sources to check facts that I had not noted down at the time, and have provided some suggestions for further reading.
Books and Papers
Farrer, William, and Brownbill, J. (eds.) 1911. Liverpool: The docks, in “A History of the County of Lancaster: Volume 4,” p. 41-43. British History Online. Originally published by Victoria County History, London, 1911.
https://www.british-history.ac.uk/vch/lancs/vol4/pp41-43
Gregory, Richard A., Caroline Raynor, Mark H. Adams, Robert Philpott, Christine Howard-Davis, Nick Johnson, Vix Hughes, David A. Higgins 2014. Archaeology at the Waterfront vol 1: Liverpool Docks. Lancaster Imprints / Oxford Archaeology North
Stammers, M.K. 2007. Ships and port management at Liverpool before the opening of the first dock in 1715. Journal of the Historic Society of Lancashire and Cheshire, vol.56.
https://www.hslc.org.uk/journal/vol-156-2007/attachment/156-3-stammers/
Stephenson, Roderick A. 1955. The Liverpool Dock System. Transactions of the Liverpool Nautical Research Society, Volume 8 1953-55 (1955)
https://liverpoolnauticalresearchsociety.org/wp-content/uploads/2019/03/Article-The-Liverpool-Dock-System.pdf
Websites
National Museums Liverpool
Ten fascinating facts about Liverpool’s Old Dock
https://www.liverpoolmuseums.org.uk/stories/ten-fascinating-facts-about-liverpools-old-dock
Historic Liverpool
1846: Plan of the Liverpool Docks, by Jesse Hartley, Dock Surveyor
https://historic-liverpool.co.uk/old-maps-of-liverpool/1846-plan-liverpool-docks-jesse-hartley-dock-surveyor/#4/65.79/-74.43
The Liverpolitan
Old Dock: a different view. Wednesday, 18 November 2015
https://theliverpolitan.com/blog_old_dock_a_different_view.php
That’s How The Light Gets In blog
Liverpool Old Dock: Down to the bedrock
https://gerryco23.wordpress.com/2010/09/14/liverpool-old-dock-down-to-the-bedrock/
Liverpool World Heritage
LIVERPOOL MARITIME MERCANTILE CITY WORLD HERITAGE SITE MANAGEMENT PLAN 2017 – 2024. Prepared by LOCUS Consulting Ltd. Liverpool City Council
www.liverpoolworldheritage.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/09/pmd-486-liverpool-whs-management-plan-final-version-as-at-27-sep-2017.pdf
A Rotherhithe Blog
The Howland Great Wet Dock 1699-1807
http://russiadock.blogspot.com/2008/06/rotherhithe-heritage-2-howland-great.html
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A visit to Basingwerk Abbey, Holywell
Introduction

The Chuch is at left, the Chapter House opposite and the ground floor monks’ day parlour whcih once had their dormitory overhead. The line of the cloister, a covered walkway with arcades, and the central garth are marked out by the stone foundations
I have been to Basingwerk Abbey a couple of times, but never got around to writing it up. It’s a super site, and although it is now a ruin, it retains enough of its original structures to ensure that its layout is easily understood. St Winifred’s Well, with its lovely late gothic shrine, is only a mile and a bit away, and an important part of Basingwerk’s property for most of its life, will be covered on another post.
Basingwerk Abbey is only a few miles away from Flint Castle. The abbey preceded the castle by over a century but when Edward I founded Flint Castle and its accompanying town in 1277, the histories of abbey and castle became entwined. A visit to the abbey is easily combined with a look-in at the attractive riverside remains of Flint Castle. I have written about the history of Flint Castle on an earlier post.

Digital Aerial Photograph of Basingwerk Abbey. AP_2009_2896 – s, Archive Number
6355272. Source: Coflein
Savignacs and Cistercian Basingwerk Abbey
The first Basingwerk abbey, dedicated to St Mary, was founded as a Savignac monastery Ranulf II (Ranulf de Gernons) (1099–1153), fourth earl of Chester and later merged with the Cistercian order. It is not known why the Savignac order was chosen by Ranulf, but the monks who were sent to Basingwerk were provided directly by the founding monastery of Savigny in southwest Normandy itself. It became Cistercian in 1147. Most of the monks who served there subsequently, up until the 15th century, were English, aliens in territory that was a bone of contention between England and Wales.
A monastic order is formed of a shared set of spiritual ideals, often spelled out in considerable detail in rules that covered everything from how many times a day a monk should pray, communally or individually, to where and when they could speak, eat and sleep, and what work they should engage in. All orders involved, at least in theory, a degree of renunciation and isolation by communities of monks, but these ideals were eroded as the influence of monastic houses grew. The trajectory of monastic history in Europe changed in the late 11th century and early 12th century with the establishment of the so-called reforming orders, who wanted a purer, less self-indulgent and more hard-working approach to cloistered living than other contemporary monastic institutions offered. The reforming orders believed that the Rule of St Benedict, as it had been originally conceived and set down in the 6th Century Italy, was the key to recovering a holier and more disciplined approach to a communal life of worship. The Carthusian order was established in 1084, the Cistercian order in 1098, the Savignac order between 1109 and 1112.

12th Century links between Cistercian monasteries.Although Citeaux, the node for all Cistercian abbeys, established early new bases in France, it was Clairvaux under the lead of St Bernard that was responsible for the earliest new abbeys in Wales. Of these Whitland was the most important for the northward spread of monasticism. The green lines emanating from Savigny reflect the Savignac order, which merged with the Cistercians after only 20 years, in 1147. So although Basingwerk in the north and Neath in the south were founded as Savignac orders, after 1147 they were brought under the rule of the Cistercians at Citeaux. Source: Evans, D.H. Evans 2008, Valle Crucis Abbey (Cadw).
In Wales one of the most successful of these orders was the Cistercian order, which left remains in north, mid and south Wales. Valle Crucis in Llangollen is the nearest of the Cistercian abbeys to the Chester-Wrexham areas, established in 1201, and is discussed in a series of earlier posts, which begins here with Part 1. The Savignac order is much less well represented throughout Britain, and the reason for this is that in 1147 it was amalgamated with the Cistercian order. Basingwerk Abbey, established as a Savignac monastery, became Cistercian in that year.
Because of their similarities the Savignacs and Cistercians were a good match, but there were differences too, largely in terms of the constitutional framework and systems of accountability. To ensure that these were understood after the fusion, Savignac monasteries were put under the supervision of an appropriately located and senior Cistercian order. Basingwerk was put under authority of Buildwas Abbey in Shropshire, which had also originally been Savignac. This was perfectly in keeping with the Cistercian hierarchical approach to monastic management with every new monastery answerable and accountable to a mother house. The mother house for the entire order was Cîteaux, and Clairvaux was the mother abbey for Whitland in south Wales, which was established by monks from Clairvaux itself. Whitland in turn established other abbeys including Strata Marcella near Welshpool, and this abbey in turn established Valle Crucis. This system created a network of houses that all linked back to the ultimate mother house at Cîteaux (Cistercium in Latin) in France, the founding monastery of the Cistercian order. Every Cistercian abbot had to return from his abbey to Cîteaux every year for what was known as the General Chapter, a great conference of the Cistercian abbots.
A more detailed history of monasticism, and the Cistercians in particular, is included in Part 1 of the series on Valle Crucis.

Cadw guardianship monument drawing of Basingwerk Abbey. Survey-plan. Cadw Ref. No. 216/9a4. Scale 1:192. Source: Coflein
The foundation and economic basis of Basingwerk Abbey at Holywell
The first Basingwerk Abbey was probably in wood, and was located at a different but nearby site possibly somewhere in the vicinity of Hên Blas in Coleshill, near a now-lost castle. There is a reference to a fortification in the Annales Cambriae describing how, when Henry II advanced into Wales from Chester, Owain Gwynedd prepared for the upcoming battle by digging a large ditch associated with a hastily built camp at a site called Dinas Basing. It is thought that this was the castle known to have been in the area of Hên Blas, which lies on a ridge between two streams and overlooks the Dee estuary. Excavations in the 1950s demonstrated the existence of a 12th century motte-and-bailey castle , which was flattened by Llewelyn the Great in the early 13th century, and was replaced with a defended courtyard with timber-framed buildings.

The central garth on a very moody day looking at the remains of the church. The tall upstanding ruin is the main remnant of the church at its east end. Photo taken from within the refectory
Basingwerk Abbey was later rebuilt in stone at the current site of the ruins, possibly in the 1150s, probably when Henry II granted a charter to the house and endowed it with the wealthy manor of Glossop in Derbyshire to assist with its financial future, 10 years after it became Cistercian. The general location seems to have been strategic rather than purely spiritual. The area of Tegeingl is located in the Four Cantrefs between the earldom of Chester and Welsh Gwynedd, always the subject of territorial dispute between England and Wales and a source of regional discontent until Edward I completed his invasion in the late 13th century. The establishment of a large French monastery was probably part of this process of establishing a presence, and a holy one at that. Although the monastery was later mainly populated by English monks, the Welsh too saw the benefit of patronizing a prestigious religious establishment and both Llywelyn ab Iorwerth (d. 1240) and his son, Dafydd ap Llywelyn (d. 1246) were benefactors.

Detail of Map 12, page 91 in Williams 1990 showing Cistercian Lands in Wales, with those of Basingwerk marked in red. Click to enlarge.
When an abbey was founded, its endowment included a number of properties that included farmland or pasture that were intended to support it by the provision of produce to make it self sustaining and later by selling produce. Some of these could be quite substantial manors, but others were smaller farms, which the Cistercians referred to as granges. These could resemble mini monastic establishments and often had their own chapels. Later still, properties with their land could be rented out to tenants, but as late as the early 16th century, Abbot Nicholas Pennant was busy creating a new open enclosure in the mountains adjacent to the monastery apparently for agricultural development.

Gelli Chapel, from Thomas Pennant’s 18th Century Tour in Wales. Source: National Library of Wales, via Wikipedia
Based on the work of D.H. Williams in his 1990 Atlas, Silvester and Hankinson 2015 list all the known Basingwerk granges, shown on the above map produced by Williams. These were supplemented in 2001 by Williams in 2001. Apart from two properties in Derbyshire these are all concentrated in northeast Wales and the Wirral and include, in alphabetical order: Baggechurch /Beggesburch Grange, Bagillt; Calcot; Gelli Grange, either at Gelli or Gelli Fawr; lands in Whitford and the adjacent parish of Cwm; the Lordship of Greenfield, alias Fulbrook, including lands of Merton Abbot and party of Holywell town; and Over Grange, Holywell (all in Flintshire). Lands with uncertain boundaries have also been identified elsewhere in the area, including Mostyn, Wake, Flint and Gwersylt as well as transhumant pasture close to property belonging to Valle Crucis Abbey at Moelfre-fawr in Denbighshire, at Boch-y-rhaiadr and Gwernhefin. They also owned Lake Tegid at Bala.
Beyond Wales, there were also three granges on the Wirral: Caldy Grange (West Kirby), Thornton Grange and Lache Grange (known as “La Lith”), as well as the granges in Charlesworth at Glossop, their mos profitable property, and leased land in Chapel le Frith.

Over Grange, Holywell. Source: Williams 1990, plate 39, page 120. No indication of when the photograph was taken.
Of this list, only two buildings seem to have survived into relatively recent times, the remnants of two granges. A chapel at Gelli Fawr in Whitford (Flints), apparently once belonging to Basingwerk Abbey was recorded in a late 18th-century drawing which suggests that the chapel was part of a larger building complex. More can be found about the building and its possible function it in Silvester and Hankinson 2015. Another grange, Over Grange, was listed by Cadw in 1991, according to Silverster and Hankinson, and was located located to the southwest of the modern farm house, and has been much-altered. The photograph below shows it with small cross over the gable.

The Coflein website says that it is believed that Basingwerk Abbey originally constructed a windmill on this site, but the present structure probably dates to the late18 or early 19th century. Now restored. Source: Coflein 804658 – NMR Site Files. Archive Number 6259181
To support its farming activities, the monastery built watermills, windmills and fulling mills. Abbot Thomas Pennant (abbot from 1481 to 1522) appears to have been particularly active in the building of mills. Records indicate that there were at least four windmills, at least three watermills, and at least two fulling mills, as well as a tithe barn in Coleshill.
The site of the Holywell windmill is thought to be preserved by the surviving windmill that can be seen today, shown right. Two of the windmills were on the Wirral. Rowan Patel’s research has found that the Basingwerk windmill that stood at West Kirby area had been established at around 1152, and was probably upgraded and even replaced several times. It stood on a high spot near the coast, an ideally windy location, and eventually featured on sea charts as a major landmark for coastal navigation. It was mentioned in Henry VIII’s Valor Ecclesiasticus, the valuation of all monastic properties. Patel has found that after the Dissolution the mill became the property of the Crown and was rented to Thomas Coventree for an annual sum of 40s. Rowan Patel’s research suggests that the second Basingwerk windmill was at Newbold, east of West Kirby, mentioned in the Taxatio of Pope Nicholas IV in 1291, where a Newbold windmill was referred to and valued at 40s a year. Before the Dissolution it appears to have been rented out to Thomas Coyntre in 1525 on a 100 year lease at 40s a year. By the time of the Dissolution, Thomas’s son Richard Coventry was apparently paying rent to the Crown, and in 1659 William Coventry, presumably a descendant of Richard’s, was still paying rent. In 1664 it is next recorded having been sold to one Thomas Bennett in who donated it to the support of the poor. Patel notes that in 1546 two men stole oats, barley and pease worth 10d, indicating the cereals proposed at the mill in the mid-16th century if not before.
Watermills continued to have a value well into the 20th century, and medieval mills will have been replaced over time, removing the visible remains of them, particularly along the valley that ran down the hill behind St Winifred’s Well and past Basingwerk before emptying into the Dee.

Economic Values excerpted from Williams 1990, map 21, p.105, showing the dominance of the agricultural contribution to the abbey’s income
Basingwerk had a large amount of livestock. The hills and newly cleared meadows around Basingwerk were ideal for sheep in the uplands and cattle in river valleys and pastures. The Welsh princes are also recorded as expecting two horses annually from Basingwerk which may indicate that the monks, like those of Cymer Abbey, were breeding horses.
As well as agriculture, which made up most of its income, Basingwerk was also involved in industrial activities, owning or leased industrial properties, Williams lists silver mining as a component of Basingwerk’s economic activities, and this is supported by Gerald of Wales whose trip through Wales in 1188 records leaving Conwy and heading east through Tegeingl through “a country rich in minerals of silver, where money is sought in the bowels of the earth” before spending the night at Basingwerk. The abbey was also involved in the salt trade, with salt extraction enterprises in Northwich and possibly Middlewich. Williams notes a coal mine leased from the Crown in Coleshill. Lead was also mined at Basingwerk, probably making use of the same resources that had been exploited by the Romans in the area.
Timber was taken from woodlands in Penllyn in Merionydd for housing, hedges, fuel and other requirements, as well as for sale. Tenants were permitted to take a reasonable amount of firewood. Assarting, the removal of woodland for conversion to agricultural land and other uses was a common activity in the middle ages.
Fishing probably made up a significant part of the diet, as it did at most Cistercian monasteries. Basingwerk held the fishing rights for Lake Tegid at Bala, which it owned, and had a weir at West Kirby. Prince Dafydd granted them one fifth of the catch at Rhuddlan in the 13th century. They may also have purchased fish caught in the nearby coastal waters.
Basingwerk had a number of urban properties too, in Holywell, Flint, Chester, and Shrewsbury, which served as bases in town for the abbot and his representatives, which were probably loaned to friends of the monastery, but could also be leased out for additional income if required. The Shrewsbury house was probably a legacy of the abbey’s connection with Buildwas Abbey after the amalgamation of the Cistercian and Savignac orders.
A major feather in the financial cap of Basingwerk was St Winifred’s shrine with its beautiful natural spring. The Holywell shrine of St Winifred was also another source of travelers requiring somewhere to stay and something to eat. St Winifred’s shrine was granted in 1093 to St Werburgh’s Abbey in Chester, but was passed to Basingwerk in 1240, together with the living of Holywell church. An abbey with a pilgrim shrine had a whole world of opportunities for income generation, and St Winifred’s was not only famous in its own right for its powers of healing and provision of miraculous cures, but was on the pilgrim trail to Bardsey Island at the end of the Llŷn peninsula and Ireland, via Anglesey. In 1427 it was given a considerable boost when Pope Martin V granted indulgences for those visiting the shrine and giving alms to the chapel. Indulgences rewarded certain behaviours, like pilgrimages, with a remission of sins, meaning less time in purgatory. Royal visitors included King Henry V in around 1416 and Edward IV in 1461, helping to raise the profile of the shrine, which continues to welcome pilgrims today. It became even more attractive from the late 15th – early 15th century when the shrine was provided with a spectacular gothic building that surrounded the spring. I will cover Holywell in a separate post.
A traditional method of income acquisition for monasteries was appropriating a church and its income, sometimes to cover a particular expense, such as a major building project, and sometimes just to supplement income. The Cistercians officially frowned on this practice, but the ban on appropriating church incomes did not survive very long. Even so, Basingwerk had appropriated surprisingly few, just parish churches at Holywell, Glossop and a third at an unknown location, possibly to be identified with Abergele.
The fairs and markets granted to Basingwerk during Edward I’s reign in the 1290s are discussed below, and this must have been a considerable aid to their income.

Behind the monks’ day room and the dormitory above it was a block of buildings the function of which remains unclear. Suggestions include an extension of the abbot’s personal quarters, with rooms for special visitors, or a dedicated guest wing.
In spite of these various forms of income, Basingwerk sometimes found itself in financial stress. The monastery had been unable to provide a required payment to Edward III in 1346, and by way of explanation complained of the burdens of hospitality that came partly with being a Cistercian abbey, which put a great deal of emphasis on providing free hospitality, and partly from being near a major road, which had become increasingly busy after Edward I had moved forward into Wales, establishing market towns whose merchants moved between Wales and Chester for trade. Even later in its history, in the late 15th/early 1gth century, it was reported that guests were so numerous that they had to take their meals in two sittings. Smith paints an evocative picture of other travelers in Wales who “cautiously flitted from one English settlement to the next, seeking safe overnight bases where food and shelter could be found “in a land in which rumors of insurrection abounded.” Basingwerk was by no means the only abbey to complain of this burden, which was a particular problem for Cistercian abbeys, but was shared by any monastic community that sat at a busy location. Birkenhead Priory, which ran the ferry that allowed crossings between the Wirral and Lancashire for access to Chester and beyond (and later Liverpool), found itself in real difficulties due to the requirement to supply hospitality for ferry users who might be stuck at the monastery for several nights in bad weather.
A rather more specific problem was the expectation by the Welsh princes to use the abbey’s Boch-y-rhaiadr range for its annual hunting expeditions, during which the abbey was expected to provide bread, butter, cheese and fish for a hunting party of 300, expanding to 500, with money due in lieu when hunting did not take place. This was abolished by Edward I after his conquest of Wales.
The Cistercian monasteries in Wales were not exempt from all taxes, or subsidies, and some of the abbots and their community were employed as tax collectors. Other occasional charges were made on the abbey, such as a demand for financial contributions towards the marriage of Edward III’s sister. Basingwerk provided £5 in 1333.
The abbey, being so active in economic production in the Holywell-Flint areas, was responsible for the management of its lands and the personnel who managed and worked the land, but was also required to function in a judicial role, its courts administering justice and meting out punishments. Lekai says that the monastery had “a pillory, tumbrel and other instruments of punishment, although the penalty most often inflicted was a fine.”

The church is on the left and the two arches of the chapter house at right,. All the buildings were arranged around the central green area, the garth. The stone foundations for the covered and arcaded walkway survive.
Most of the Cistercian abbeys in Wales, at one time or another, had a diplomatic role acting as intermediaries between the Welsh princes and the Crown, acting for either side, a role that was in their political interests to accept. For example In 1241 Henry III used the Lache grange for a conference between himself and Prince Dafydd’s clerk. In 1246 Henry III chose the abbot of Basingwerk to escort Prince Dafydd’s wife Isabella from Dyserth Castle to Godstow nunnery near Oxford. A decade later, Prince Llywelyn ap Gruffyd used an abbot of Basingwerk to carry a letter to Henry III.
In 1291 the Taxatio Ecclesiastica of Pope Nicholas IV valued Basingwerk at £68 8s 0d, gross value (compared with Valle Crucis at £91 8s 0d, and Margam at £255 27s 4½d). In 1346 it claimed that its lands were sterile, and it went through some bad years, but in spite of the rebellion of Owain Glyn Dŵr in the early 1400s and a very troublesome period when a monk took the abbacy without being legally elected in the first half of the 15th century, with a similar problem in the later 15th century, the appointment of Thomas Pennant in the early 16th century seems to have turned things around. In 1535, Henry VIII’s Valor Ecclesiasticus valued the monastery at £157 15s 2d. Margam by this time was valued at £188 14s 0d, and Valle Crucis £214 3s 5d.
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The layout of the monastery
The remains of the monastery conform to a standardized layout favoured by all the orders that followed the rule of St Benedict, clearly shown on the Cadw plan to the right, which helpfully colour-codes the dates for each part of the building. Few parts of the 12th century abbey are left. Most date to the early 13th century, but the monk’s refectory was built in the mid-13th century. Much of the abbey was rebuilt in the 13th century, which was not unusual when, for example, a new abbot might want to make a mark, but in this case it is possible that much of not most of it was done due to damage inflicted during the wars between the English and the Welsh, when Edward paid compensation to the abbey to enable it to carry out repairs, about which more below.
The cloister arcade was apparently remodelled in the late 14th century. In the late 15th century Abbot Thomas Pennant carried out building work not only at the abbey but also at the shrine of St Winifred just up the road in Holywell. There are various aspects of the site where both date and function remain unclear. The western range, opposite the chapter house, would have been part of the original layout, used to house the lay brethren, discussed below, but may have gone out of use if a new use for them could be found when the lay brethren were no long featured in the community. Although the above plan shows that the possible guest accommodation is undated, timbers from fire damage Basingwerk were saved for future analysis and tree-ring dating shows that the felling-date of the crown-post truss was c. 1385. This is one of the earliest Welsh tree-ring dated. The dating was commissioned by Cadw.

The church is at left, the chapter house to its right, the day room and the windows of the first floor dormitory next, and set to the far right is the refectory
Although every monastery differed in some aspects, the basic template of buildings surrounding a central square area, a garth (green area) with surrounding walkway (the cloisters) with the monastic church making up one side, was a universal arrangement. The church was usually on the north side, as it was here, and often included two chapels in the transepts that flanked the crossing area where the choir was located. Some churches featured towers either above the crossing or at one end. The other buildings usually included a chapter house (the important monastic meeting room), day room with a dormitory on its first floor, a refectory, and sometimes an undercroft for storage. with an external door leading into the cloister on one side and the monastic precinct beyond. A sacristy was usually attached to the church, sandwiched between the church and the chapter house, which is how matters were arranged at both Basingwerk and Valle Crucis. The cloisters were usually supplied with desks (called carrels) along the exterior wall of the church where the monks could study and write.
The precinct, in which this arrangement of buildings sat, could include other structures like farm buildings, and visitor accommodation and often included a gatehouse, the whole surrounded by some form of boundary. A key feature of Cistercian monasteries was good drainage, which supplied the kitchens and fish ponds, where present, and took away toilet waste, and various parts of the Basingwerk drainage system can be traced at the site.
Many of these features can be found at Basingwerk. The church is largely in ruins, but the layout is still visible in the very masonry walls that sit on the grass, including the columns that supported the roof and divided the church into a central nave with three aisles and seven bays, two side transepts each with a small transept and an eastern presbytery where the high altar would be located. At around 50 metres in length the church would have been one of the smallest Cistercian churches in Wales. Only Cymer near Dolgellau is shorter, at just over 30m in length. At the entrance to the presbytery a stone set into the floor may have supported a lectern.
Opposite the former church, and one of the best preserved parts of the abbey, is south range with the refectory, which was built perpendicular to the cloister rather than lying along it on a north-south axis. The refectory in Chester Cathedral, the former St Werburgh Abbey, was built along the length of the cloister, limiting its size, but the the refectory at Basingwerk as limited only by the size of the precinct. This was probably a change introduced in the 13th century remodelling of much of the abbey, replacing a 12th century refectory that lay along the side of the cloister on an east-west axis. It is a substantial building with many features preserved in its walls. This includes the former entrance and stairway to the pulpit, now blocked off, from which religious texts would have been read during meals. S series of tall windows would have let in a lot of light, and there was a hatch between the refectory and the kitchen for the convenient handing over of food, as well as a cupboard, which was apparently shelved, opposite.

The monks’ day parlour at ground floor level, with the dormitory on the first floor, the windows suggesting the original height of this building
The east range of buildings, again along the edge of the cloister, extends between the east range and the church. As you face this range, running from right to left are the monks’ day parlour, over which was the dormitory, the length of which over-ran the cloister and ran parallel for a short distance with the refectory; a long thin parlour is next, and then most importantly is the chapter house, where the monks met daily to discuss the business of the order. To its left is the sacristy, which adjoined the south transept of the church.

Looking towards where the western range would have been located. The building beyond is now the café.
Opposite this range was the western range, of which there is almost nothing left. In a Cistercian monastery this was usually used, at least in the early decades, for the lay brethren. These were members of the monastic community who worked the land, and were not required either to be as educated as the monks, or to dedicate a similar amount of time to worship. They worked the land and were maintained by the monastery. As properties were leased out, the lay brethren were increasingly redundant and the western range was usually put to different uses. It is not known how it would have been used at Basingwerk.
Edward I and Basingwerk Abbey

Plan of Flint Castle. Source: Coflein
When Edward I settled on his location for his new castle at Flint, Basingwerk Abbey was just a few miles west of the new site. The monks of Basingwerk Abbey, which was established over 100 years earlier in 1132, must have wondered about the impact of the castle on their own security and their livelihood. During the first few months of the castle construction process in the summer of 1277 Edward stayed near Basingwerk. Edward saw himself as a religious man. He had been on crusade, and had made a vow to establish a monastic house of his own, under the Cistercian order, and had selected a site for it in Cheshire. Vale Royal Abbey was already underway in 1277 near Northwich, Edward having laid the first stone in early August. It seems unlikely that Edward was not often a guest of the Basingwerk Cistercian Abbey during the building of Flint, which apart from being obliged under Cistercian rules to provide hospitality, was unlikely to reject a royal visitor. Although Basingwerk had been founded by an English patron, Ranulf II it was probably more in tune with Welsh interests by the arrival of Edward. Indeed, earlier in 1277 seven Cistercian abbots had written a letter to Pope Gregory X supporting Prince Llewellyn ap Gruffud against charges placed by the Bishop of St Asaph, although the abbot of Basingwerk was not amongst them.
Whatever their personal leanings, it would have been very much in the interests of the order for good relations to be maintained. They may have offered advice about his plans for Vale Royal, and it is clear that some of the abbots in the Welsh-based monasteries, including Basingwerk, played an invaluable role as intermediaries between the Welsh and the English. Fortunately for the monks at Basingwerk, Edward I chose the Cistercian abbey at Aberconwy for his headquarters, forcing that monastic community to eventually shift further south along the Conwy valley to a new home.
The monks of Basingwerk would have been less than astute, however, if they had not regarded the new castle with misgivings, and if they had concerns about being caught in the middle of a fight between Edward and Llywelyn, their worries would later be justified. In the 1270s and 1280s the abbey suffered damage during the wars of Edward I, in spite of letters of protection issued to it in 1276,1278, and 1282 and in 1284 Edward granted £100 compensation to the monks after the army stole corn and cattle and the loss of workers who were abducted, presumably for labour. An additional 132 4d was paid in damages to churches in Holywell. Basingwerk was not the only abbey in the area to suffer and receive compensation. Valle Crucis near Llangollen received a sum of £160.00, and nearby Aberconwy was occupied by Edward I’s forces and its monastic community was forced to move to a new home to the south, at Maenan. Relations between the abbey and castle obviously continued to remain good, because when the castle was completed in 1280 a monk of Basingwerk was engaged as the chaplain to the royal garrison.

One of John Speed’s maps showing Flint Castle and town. The castle and town of Flint as mapped by John Speed in 1610, showing the original road layout and market place. Source: National Library of Wales
At Flint, Edward had established a Norman-style new town as part of his vision for colonizing various parts of Wales. This was an English settlement, and any new burgesses prepared to live there was given numerous incentives. In 1278 Edward granted it permission to hold weekly markets and an annual fair. In 1292 he granted Basingwerk the same permissions for Holywell, having granted them permission to hold an annual fair at their Glossop manor in 1290. The monks could charge market stall holders rent for the duration of the market, a nice source of income, as well as selling their own products. Basingwerk, with its water mills, windmills and fulling mills and land under both grazing and grain, was certainly in a position to sell a number of products, including grain, livestock and livestock products including meat, skins and wool. Welsh wool was recognized as being of very high quality, sometimes superior to even that of the better known wool produced by the Yorkshire monastic producers. The Taxatio ecclesiastica of Pope Nicholas IV in 1291 recorded that Basingwerk had 2000 sheep producing 10 sacks of wool, 53 cows (at a ratio of 37.1:1), and no goats. Even if it found itself in competition with Flint, Basingwerk’s fairs probably represented the opportunity to raise the abbey’s income. Its industrial products, as well as some of its wool, may have been sold for export.
The 14th – 16th century
Burton and Stöber describe how by the mid 14th century there were reports that the abbey was in debt, and in the fifteenth century some of its abbots were a distinct liability:
in 1430 the house was seized by Henry Wirral, who made himself abbot, and the following year he was engaged in a legal dispute for the office with Richard Lee. Despite the court ruling in favour of Lee, Henry continued in power at Basingwerk until 1454 when he was arrested for various misdemeanours and deposed. Matters did not improve, for in the following decade Richard Kirby, monk of Aberconwy, disputed the abbacy with Edmund Thornbar. Although the General Chapter ordered that Edmund be recognized as abbot, Richard was still in office in 1476.

Manuscript by Gutan Owain, National Library of Wales, MS3026C. Source: The National Library of Wales
Fortunately the abbey’s fortunes improved under Welsh Abbot Thomas Pennant, who ruled the house for about forty years from around 1481 to 1523, although this was very much a last hurrah before Henry VIII dissolved the monasteries beginning in 1535. By the early 16th century Welsh bard Tudur Aled (died 1526) makes it clear that there was lead roofing and stained glass at the abbey. Tudur Aled praised Abbot Thomas , commending his his learning but also his generosity, generally an indication that they were being sponsored by a given abbot, as at Valle Crucis. Gutun Owain seems to have benefited from Basingwerk Abbey’s patronage. Owain is notable for having addressed over fifteen poems to Cistercian abbots, and is known to have stayed as a guest at Valle Crucis and Strata Florida as well as Basingwerk. Although the late fifteenth century manuscript known as the Black Book of Basingwerk (Llyfr Du Basing, now NLW MS 7006D, which was the mainly the work of Gutun Owain copied into a single volume) was probably held by Basingwerk at the time of the dissolution in around 1536, it is thought in fact to have been the work of copyist monks at Valle Crucis.
Thomas Pennant was not a man of undiluted virtue. In an order where celibacy was required and monks were not permitted to marry, Pennant not only fathered a family, but his son Nicholas, became the last abbot of Basingwerk, which in theory was an act of simony banned by the order. When the abbey closed, probably in 1536, with just three monks, Nicholas was the abbot.

St Mary on the Hill, Chester. Source: GENUKI
After the Dissolution every valuable object and piece of structural material was stripped for Henry VIII’s treasury. James says that part of the timber ceiling is at Cilcain, and that stained glass can be found at Llanasa. Burton and Stöber add that the choir stalls from the abbey were transferred to the church of St Mary on the Hill in Chester. Lead from the roof was removed, and may have been used for the repair of Holt Castle on the Dee and Dublin Castle. Williams adds that it may have been employed also in other crown buildings in Dublin, and that it is possible that the wooden sedilia in the parish church of St Mary, Nercwys, was from Basingwerk. There is a tradition that the Jesse window was reinstalled in the parish church of St Dyfriog (Llanrhaeadr-yng-Nghinmeirch) but this remains unconfirmed.
I have been unable to get access to St Mary on the Hill, a comprehensive history of which is on the Chesterwiki. It was decomissioned in 1972 and now describes itself as a Creative Space and venue for a range of activities. However, the Chesterwiki site says that the fittings, presumably including the Basinwerk choir stalls, were removed after the church was decomissioned, although it does not say where these fittings went.
From the 18th century the site attracted artists who recorded features that are now lost. In the early 20th century a large section of the south transept collapsed. In 1923 the site was put in State guardianship and in 1984 it was put into the car of Cadw.

Basingwerk Abbey miniature by Moses Griffiths, c.1778. Source: National Library of Wales, via Wikipedia
Final comments

The building that may be a guesthouse, has had burned timbers dendro-dated, which give the roof a date of c.1385. Source: RCAHMW Exhibitions: Dendrochronology Partnerships
Information about Basingwerk Abbey is fragmented and partial, but researchers have pieced together a history of the abbey that tells a story about abbey’s past, beginning as a Savignac establishment before being absorbed into the Cistercian network of monasteries. The disputes between the Welsh princes and Henry III and Edward I caused grief for the north Wales monasteries, but they survived to rebuild and move forward. Like other abbeys in Wales, the abbots of the abbey had a diplomatic role, often acting as intermediaries between Wales and England. As members of the wider community with an important economic role, the abbey was often involved in local judicial matters. Financial difficulties in the 14th and 15th centuries are recorded and but again the monastery survived these difficulties. In the early 16th century the abbey became a haven for Welsh bards, supporting their work. Throughout its history, its location on the main route through north Wales meant that it was obliged to provide more hospitality than more secluded monastic houses, whilst the shrine of St Winifred, whilst contributing to the prestige and financial value of the abbey, also required some management to prevent it becoming a drain on the abbey’s obligation to provide shelter and food. After the Dissolution in 1536, the abbey was decommissioned, its valuables removed and its properties either sold off our leased out. Today it is managed by Cadw and offers an excellent visitor experience.
Visitor Information

Find the captions and see the full-sized map at https://greenfieldvalley.com/greenfield-valley-zones/. There is an interactive version of the map at https://greenfieldvalley.com/explore/interactive-map/.
The site is free to visit. There is no visitor information centre but a small modern shop sells guide books, postcards and souvenirs relating to Basingwerk, St Winifred’s Shrine and the Greenfield Valley Park. The abbey’s postcode is CH8 7GH and the car park is on Bagillt road, just to the west of the enormous railway bridge, opposite a small trade/industrial estate.
There is a big car park at the foot of the abbey, shown to the right left on the A548, just west of the enormous railway bridge, which has a fairly gentle metalled incline up to the abbey, with a bench and information map half way up.
There is also a café just outside the main gates, which in October 2022 was doing a good coffee and a splendid lunch.
Basingwerk Abbey is a component part of Greenfield Valley Park, and is popular with dog walkers and children, so if you want a quiet visit it is probably best to go on a weekday outside the holidays. The rest of Greenfield Valley Park is an excellent visit in its own right, with a remarkable amount of industrial archaeology within its borders, and plenty of interpretation boards. I have posted about the industrial archaeology of the Green Valley Park here.
If you want to stay in the medieval period, St Winifred’s Well is about 1.5 miles through the park (shown as No.9 at the very top of the map right), or if you prefer to drive it has its own car park. Flint Castle is only 4 or so miles down the A548 towards Chester, and makes for a great visit. I wrote about the history of Flint Castle on an earlier post, Together, the three sites make a very fine medieval day.
Sources
Books and papers:
Burton, J. and Stöber, K. 2015. Abbeys and Priories of Medieval Wales. University of Wales Press. https://www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctt9qhdvn.13
Davies, Paul R. 2021. Towers of Defiance. YLolfa
Elfyn Hughes, R., J. Dale, I. Ellis Williams and D. I. Rees. Studies in Sheep Population and Environment in the Mountains of North-West Wales I. The Status of the Sheep in the Mountains of North Wales Since Mediaeval Times. Journal of Applied Ecology , Apr., 1973, Vol. 10, No. 1 (Apr., 1973), p.113-132
https://www.jstor.org/stable/2404720
Evans D.H. 2008, Valle Crucis Abbey, Cadw
Knight, L. Stanley 1920. The Welsh monasteries and their claims for doing the education of later Medieval Wales. Archaeologia Cambrensis, 6th series, volume 2, 1920, p.257-276
https://journals.library.wales/view/4718179/4728984/314#?xywh=-63%2C345%2C2942%2C1730
Rhys, Ernest (ed.) 1908. The Itinerary and Description of Wales with an introduction by W. Llewelyn Williams. Everyman’s Library. J.M. Dent and Co, London. and E.P. Dutton and Co (NY)
https://archive.org/details/itinerarythroug00girauoft
Huws, D. 2000. Medieval welsh Manuscripts. University of Wales Press
James, M.R. 1925. Abbeys. The Great Western Railway
https://archive.org/details/abbeys-great-western-railway
Jones, Owain, 2013. Historical writing in medieval Wales. PhD Thesis, University of Bangor.
https://research.bangor.ac.uk/portal/files/20577287/null&ved=2ahUKEwjxssbb0tvtAhWmxIsKHQgvBW0QFjAOegQICBAI&usg=AOvVaw2GbJiGy6Sl3SPiTX4K8RqZ
Lekai, Louis L. 1977. The Cistercians. Ideals and Reality. The Kent State University Press
Patel, Rowan 2016. The Windmills and Watermills of Wirral. A Historical Survey. Countyvise Ltd.
Robinson, D. M., 2006. Basingwerk Abbey. Cadw
Silvester, R.J., and Hankinson, R., 2015. The Monastic Granges of East Wales. The Scheduling Enhancement Programme: Welshpool. Clwyd-Powys Archaeological Trust (CPAT)
coflein.gov.uk/media/241/979/652240.pdf
Smith, Joshua Byron 2016. “Til þat he neӡed ful neghe into þe Norþe Walez”: Gawain’s Postcolonial Turn. The Chaucer Review, Vol.51, No.3 (2016), p.295-309
https://www.jstor.org/stable/10.5325/chaucerrev.51.3.0295
Williams, David H., 2001. The Welsh Cistercians, Gracewing
Williams, David H., 1990. Atlas of Cistercian Lands. University of Wales Press
Websites:
Coflein
Basingwerk Abbey
https://coflein.gov.uk/en/site/35649?term=basingwerk%20abbey%20holywell
Monastic Wales
Basingwerk Abbey
https://www.monasticwales.org/browsedb.php?func=showsite&siteID=24
Gutun Owain
https://www.monasticwales.org/person/72
The Black Book of Basingwerk
https://www.monasticwales.org/archive/24
Valle Crucis (Abbey)
https://www.monasticwales.org/browsedb.php?func=showsite&siteID=35
RCAHMW Exhibitions: Dendrochronology Partnerships
Bilingual exhibition panel entitled Partneriaethau Dendrocronoleg; Dendrochronolgy Partnerships, produced by RCAHMW 2013
https://coflein.gov.uk/media/200/524/rcex_026_01.pdf
RCAHMW List of Historic Placenames (searchable database)
https://historicplacenames.rcahmw.gov.uk/
University of Notre Dame
A Knight in St. Patrick’s Purgatory, by Haley Stewart. March 15, 2019
https://churchlifejournal.nd.edu/articles/a-knight-in-st-patricks-purgatory/
An Essay on Cistercian Liturgy by Dr Julie Kerr
Cistercians in Yorkshire, University of Sheffield
www.dhi.ac.uk/cistercians/cistercian_life/spirituality/Liturgy/Cistercian_liturgy.pdf

Basingwerk Abbey from the South. 1929 postcard. Source: People’s Collection Wales
Gresford All Saints’ Church – a beginner’s guide to funerary monuments
This informal look at the monuments in Gresford’s All Saints’ church graveyard follows on from three previous posts about All Saints’, the first a general history of the interior, the second a quick look at the splendid gargoyles and grotesques on the exterior of the building. The third post looked at misericords (fascinatingly carved so-called mercy seats in choir stalls) in a three-part series about misericords in Gresford, Malpas, Bebington and Chester Cathedral.
I began writing this over a year ago, mainly for my own benefit when I was getting to grips with how churchyards develop, what sort of chronological markers can be found and the variety of monument types and themes that could be expected. I have just re-found the post in my drafts folder and thought that others might find it useful. This is no more than a very basic introductory starting point for investigating this and other churchyards in the area.
The churchyard surrounds the Gresford parish church of All Saints’ on all sides. The main part of the cemetery is to the south of the church. In parish churchyards the area to the north side of the church was usually the last to be occupied by the dead. This is partly because the brighter areas were favoured, but partly because the darker area was often reserved for church and community events until the 19th century when a requirement for more burial grounds resulted in the extension into all areas of a churchyard.
There is a variety of different tomb styles with the All Saints’ churchyard, mainly belonging to the late-18th, 19th centuries and 20th centuries. This includes chest tombs, table graves, ledger gravestones, vertical gravestones and sculptural monuments. Although most of the grave markers are relatively uniform in shape, size and motifs, reflecting standardization in the approach to gravestones, some are very personal and inevitably there are a few that stand out either because they are conspicuously larger than their neighbours, or because they are slightly unusual in some way.
Grave Types
Terminology can differ slightly from publication to publication. Graves are, on this post at least, subterranean pits into which the deceased is placed. Grave stones, markers and monuments may sit over the grave to mark their positions and, if required, provide details of the deceased. Head stones are specifically the vertical slabs that sit at the head end of the grave, and may be accompanied by a short foot stone to mark the other end of the grave. Kerbs are low stone frames for the space occupied by the grave. Tombs are constructions, sometimes resembling buildings, that contain above-ground storage of the dead, but the term is often applied to false tombs, which are containers that sit on the ground but lie over a subterranean burial like the chest tombs and table tombs that are found at Gresford. Memorials commemorate the dead, but may not be associated with the grave where people are interred (like war memorials). There are no mausolea at Gresford or, indeed, at most parish churchyards, but these are standalone buildings, often highly ornate, that contain one or more tombs within.
The following photographs, all from All Saints’, show individual grave marker types that have been mentioned below. There are other types that do not appear in the All Saints’ churchyard, which are not included here. Click the image to enlarge so that the descriptions are legible:

The main types of grave marker present in Gresford All Saints’s churchyard, although there are other types too. Click image to enlarge.
The dead are buried on their backs facing upwards, with heads to the west, feet to the east. Table tombs have inscriptions on the ledger (flat top) and the supports may be plain or more elaborate. Headstones face east, with the inscription on the eastern face. Because many inevitably face away from footpaths, in some cemeteries a name may be etched into the back of the headstone, to identify the deceased, whilst the full details are shown on the east-facing side. Chest tombs may have decorative components on the side panels, and text may be on both the ledger (flat top) or the side panels, or both.
Date Range
The earliest graves at Gresford are located within the church itself in the north and south aisles, and have been mentioned on the first post about All Saints’, both dating to the 13th century. They consist of effigies, the inscribed or carved sculpted images of the deceased and represent two of the highest status and wealthiest individuals of local 13th century society.
Marked graves in British parish churchyards were a relatively late phenomenon, the first ones appearing in the 17th century. These are quite few and far between, and I have not yet seen mention of any in local or neighbouring churchyards. Grave monuments in the Gresford churchyard date mainly from the late 18th, 19th and early 20th centuries..
18th Century
The earliest graves that I have found are early 18th century, one of the earliest dating to 1710, although there may be earlier examples that I have not noticed, including some completely concealed by ivy. A number of examples from this period are ledgers, flat tablets that in this churchyard are usually carved from fine-grained yellow stone, often greyed with age, set horizontally into the ground, with large, simple text, and almost no decorative features. Later ledger stones were sometimes provided with small decorative embellishments.
Some of the ledger gravestones flank walkways and paths, forming kerbs and revetments, such as the ones shown on the right that flank the main churchyard path. It is easy to forget that they are grave markers in their own right. This is apparently a particular feature of churchyards in Cheshire and Lancashire.
Other ledgers are laid between chest and table tombs, with which they are usually contemporary. Chest tombs are simply more elaborate versions of ledgers, with the horizontal slab raised off the ground, the space beneath enclosed with stone panels. Table tombs are also raised ledgers, but on four legs or on three cross-members. This raising of the ledgers may have been to create something more monumental, to provide more space for inscriptions where a grave is intended for more than one generation of family members, or to prevent the slab being encased in grass, moss, ivy and weeds.
Organized in a row alongside one of the paths, near the east end of the church, are the smallest (c.16in/ 41cm tall) upright grave markers. These are either footstones that have been separated from their corresponding headstones (only ever inscribed with initials and date if inscribed at all), or were purchased as gravestones by those with few means at their disposal. None have many inscribed details, and the one shown left, dating to 1778, is particularly minimalist, providing only the initials of the deceased, the year of death and the age at time of death. Others in the row are slightly more informative than this example but there is insufficient space for them to provide detailed information.

Red sandstone chest tomb (with decorative pilasters at each corner), sadly commemorating child deaths, just one month apart, of Robert Jones, aged 12, in July 1791 and Sarah Jones, aged 13, in August 1791, aged 13.
There are a number of chest tombs consisting of four stone panels with a ledger stone set on top. Chest tombs of all periods are merely monuments like gravestones, in the sense that they do not contain the burial themselves, but sit over the top of subterranean graves. There is something undeniably spooky about a breach in a chest tomb, but as Trevor Yorke says “Don’t be alarmed when you see a chest tomb with a cracked or missing side, a skeletal arm will not reach out to grab you! The body was always interred below the ground with the hollow interior empty.” Most are made of yellow sandstone, but there is one isolated chest tomb in red sandstone.
19th Century
Chest tombs are also a feature of the 19th century, and many of these are more elaborate than earlier forms and have side panels decorated by geometric shapes and small motifs.

A yellow sandstone chest tomb with another sad inscription, commemorating the death of a 12 year old in 1846 and a 2 year old in 1849. These are by no means the only records of child and infant mortality in the churchyard. This grave later went on to house the children’s parents.

An elaborate chest tomb raised on feet and provided with a lid rather than a simple ledger, with decorated panels. The first-mentioned deceased was Bridget Hugo from Truro in Cornwall, who died aged 44 in 1820. It was used again in 1837 for the interment of Elizabeth Hugo, aged 88. Mother or sister?
Pedestal graves, essentially smaller square versions of chest tombs, also appear at this time. Like chest graves, pedestal graves could have inscriptions on more than one side. Some had inscriptions on all four sides, but others might have inscriptions on only one or two, depending on how many people were eventually interred and commemorated. The pedestal gravestone below is engraved on all four sides with the details of family members related to Timothy Parsonage of Wrexham, who were buried successively in 1811, 1817, 1831, 1839, 1872 and 1875.
Both chest and pedestal graves could be surrounded by iron railings in the 19th century, and there are several examples at All Saints’.
There are a couple of graves consisting of nothing more than sprawling platforms of paves with a higher raised section in the middle. It is very probable that the centre of the platform formerly supported some form of monument, now lost, possibly on a fairly narrow stand, such as a cross, that resulted in a fall when the platforms destabilized. Alternatively, there is a pedestal tomb on a similar platform, which could be an alternative arrangement, although it is more difficult to explain how such a monument could be lost, unless it was destroyed in a fall.
The main 19th century cemetery is on the south side of the church and consists of tall headstones of the upright variety with an inscription on the main panel, a few decorative flourishes at the top, and sometimes an epitaph or other line of text at the base. On several of them the top of the headstone had been carved into a decorative sculptural component in its own right. These also contain introductory phrases and are often accompanied by religious symbols and motifs.
The area occupied by the body in front of the headstone could be demarcated with a stone kerb or a set of railings. Although it is difficult to tell because of the long grass, these seem to be confined to a relatively small number of graves, presumably because of the additional cost that would have been incurred. I noticed at Farndon’s St Chad’s churchyard that the plentiful kerbs accompanying headstones usually belonged to the early 20th century.
Most of the headstones in this section of the churchyard were made of local sandstone, mainly superior fine-grained yellow sandstone, but a few, particularly towards the end of the 19th century, were also made of imported stone, such as rose granite, often highly polished to achieve a glossy surface, such as the 1891 coped stone shown below (interestingly one of the few to be inscribed in Welsh). Some were partially polished, with parts left unworked to provide contrasts in colour and texture, such as the 1908 example on the right. Similarly, some of the later grave stones combined different types of stone to draw attention to particular motifs or to highlight inscriptions. Colour inserts are unusual, but the headstone above includes a blue and white religious symbol, containing the letters IHS. These are usually interpreted as a Christogram, representing the first three letters of the name Jesus Christ’s in Greek, iota eta sigma. The H is the capitalization of “eta.”
Dotted amongst these more conventional 19th century headstones, and particularly popular in the Victorian periods, is the monumental grave stone, consisting of a large sculptural element supported on an inscribed plinth. Frequent types are crosses, angels and obelisks. One example, below far right, has a column on a plinth topped with the crucified Jesus on one side and Mary with the baby Jesus on the other, both protected by a roof. The relatively tiny cross at its base was dedicated to an infant.
The later 20th Century
At some point between the late 19th and early 20th century, highly polished imported black stone became desirable for gravestones. There are a couple of full-sized early versions of this stone in the Gresford churchyard, most of which have both polished and unpolished sections to create texture and contrast.
As the 20th century proceeded, the same stone type was used to make tiny grave markers usually laid flat, with white or gold lettering. Because those commemorated by these stones are often within living memory of children or grandchildren, some of them may be visited and flowers often accompany them, real or artificial, a brightly coloured foil for the standardized lines of shiny black polished stone, quite unlike the earlier, upright headstones. Although very different from their monumental antecedents they give a sense of continuity from the 18th century.
Grave locations
The wish for burial within a church or as close as possible to the church, demonstrated by the two 13th century examples in the north and south aisles of the church itself, was driven by the belief that proximity to holiness would confer some form of additional divine spirituality on the dead. The chancel, the east end section where the choir and high altar were located, was particularly desirable as a burial place. Throughout history, burial within church premises was reserved only for a limited number of people including senior clergy, those drawn from the upper echelons of society, and those who had provided financial support to the church. Others might be buried in private mausolea in their own premises, but most would be consigned to a churchyard or, later, a dedicated cemetery. The north side of a parish church was often the last to be used for burials, in some cases because the cemetery might have been used in early years for village community events, but also because it, or parts of it, were sometimes reserved for unconsecrated burials such as babies who died before baptism and suicides; but in some cases it appears to be simply because the darker north side was seen as less attractive and further away from the divine.
Designs and motifs in the churchyard

Elaborate monument to William Trevor Parkins, Chancellor of St Asaph, who died in 1908 and is also commemorated with a stained glass window in the church. His wife and son are also commemorated on the the monument.
Although gravestones were primarily used for recording details of the deceased, motifs, emblems and symbols were introduced in the late 17th century, and became popular in the 18th century, establishing memento mori and other themes as part of the language of the grave marker. Most of these helped to express ideas with which the deceased might wish to be connected, a visual reference to the connection between the living, the dead and the afterlife. The range of visual features in the Gresford churchyard is fairly limited, but they echo churchyard motifs in other local churchyards, suggesting that there was a limited range of ideas with which local people were familiar or felt comfortable, such as as crosses, floral motifs and the letters IHS that stand for the first three letters of the name of Jesus in Latin. Others are rather more specific, and convey a particular association, such as a cross showing the Star of David and a military grave showing the Canadian maple. If anyone can enlighten me about the multiple serpents wending their way through half-globes on the Celtic-influenced cross on the image to the right, the 1908 monument to William Trevor Parkins, I would be very grateful! There is a similar one in the Overleigh Old Cemetery in Chester.
Instead of looking at the limited range of symbols and motifs on gravestones at Gresford, a future post will look at some of these.
Challenges for grave architecture

Heavy central erosion to the headstone on the left; de-lamination of the sandstone of the headstone on the right, leaving a small part of the original surface containing the inscription in one corner
In all churchyards, some grave markers fare better than others, thanks to unavoidable natural processes. Most of the graves at All Saints’ are in good condition, and the churchyard as a whole is well maintained and cared for. Natural processes, however, can defy all attempts to conserve grave markers and there is no blame attached to this. The greater percentage of grave markers at All Saints’ are made of friable yellow sandstone, which is susceptible to damage by extremes of the weather, to the impact of concentrated dripping from trees and to the fumes from motor pollution. Some of this is mild erosion, some of it has rendered text illegible whilst leaving the basic form unharmed, but other cases are very severe, such as examples shown here, some of which have large patches resembling melted ice-cream, whilst others are suffering serious de-lamination.
Like most rural churchyards, some of the churchyard is well manicured, and other parts of it have been left to develop a more natural feel. The dominant vegetation surrounding the 19th century headstones away from the trees is very tall grass, (very wet up to mid-thigh in some areas after rainfall – beware!). The tall grass appears to do little harm to the headstones, although it does inhibit visits to those gravestones, and the build up of foliage at the bases eventually creates topsoil that covers up inscriptions at the bases, particularly in the case of pedestals at the bottom of crosses, obelisks and similar statues, where text may be confined to the base of the monument.

Carved ivy tendrils wrap around a rustic cross as real ivy on the ground just begins to encroach on the pedestal.
Under trees and in shaded areas invasive ivy does real damage, fastening itself to the stone, hiding inscriptions and, when removed, removes the friable surfaces of the stone. Ivy is very difficult to eradicate from an area once it establishes a network of roots, from which it sends out runners that in turn root themselves. It is resistant to just about every form of weed killer, even if that were desirable in a graveyard that strives to encourage a natural environment. One or two of the gravestones are carved with images of ivy spreading across their surfaces, which seems like an ironic acknowledgement of the inevitable blending of nature with death. The only way of dealing with it is to keep cutting it back when it it begins to climb the grave stones – a thankless and endless task!
A grave dedicated to Arthur Henry Leslie Soames M.C. and Légion d’Honneur, which had been partially hidden by ivy and other weeds, was uncovered in May 2018 by local historian Jimmy Jones, with the permission of the church. His account, and the before-and-after photographs used to be on the now defunct Wrexham-History website, and described how the central grave monument and a horizontal slab to one side were visible, but once the full monument was uncovered, a second slab on the opposite side was revealed, indicating that this was a family plot. This contributes to the biography of Arthur Soames, who died testing an experimental bomb for the army in 1915.
Moss is similarly invasive and destructive where conditions favour its growth and spread, and there are examples at All Saints’ where inscriptions on ledgers have been colonized and concealed.
Lichen is another natural invader of stone grave monuments, and is very difficult, if not impossible to tackle. Different types of lichen prefer different environmental conditions, so can be very widespread in a cemetery, even in the most cared-for sections. Where lichen spreads across inscriptions, it can obscure them completely, and it can eat away the friable surfaces grain by grain over the period of many decades, meaning that inscription, motifs and decorative features may be damaged, obscured or lost. It can also add to the more abrupt problem of certain types of sandstone de-laminating, which can eliminate big sections of text very suddenly.

Fairly minor lichen damage to a gravestone, dating to 1807. It has not completely obscured the inscription just yet, although the centre epitaph is illegible. but will probably become worse as time passes

An example of damage inflicted on an inscription by a combination of weathering and lichen, making much of the the text, including the date, illegible.

Lead lettering from 1882, some of which have parted company from the headstone leaving empty peg marks
A small number of the 19th century tombs were provided with lead lettering, hammered into peg holes in the stone. Some of the lettering has been lost from these grave stones, leaving behind some whole letters, some partial letters and some of the peg holes. Again, this is natural wear and tear over the centuries and in some ways it seems surprising that any of these lead inserts have actually managed to survive at all.
Some of the stonework of chest and table tombs has been damaged, with panels falling away and ledgers tipping to the side, but this is the usual wear and tear as trees grow and roots find new paths, and storms impose injuries.
Final Comments: The living, the dead and eternity
Although there is some uniformity in the appearance of the churchyard, with certain forms, motifs and shapes being repeated, when you stand in the middle of it all, with the wet grass up to your knees, the great sweep of gravestones and monuments spreading to the limits of the churchyard provides a great sense of individual character and personal commitment. Each monument contains a fragmentary sense of how precious life could be. The inscriptions, whilst often fairly formulaic, also represent choices and decisions about what what best represented the interests of the deceased, the living and how this connected to belief in an afterlife. Churchyards are often places of sadness, but for a great many they also represented ideas of hope.
The grave marker links the living, the dead and Christian belief in a relationship that, particularly when the text survives, may still be engaged with. Whoever made the decisions about the design of the grave marker, what stands out is how these inanimate objects, the material commemoration of the dead, reflect a wide range of understated emotional ideas a including love, commitment, devotion, fear, anxiety, grief and hope. Collectively they convey both the sadness that the living confront in death and the comfort they find in commemorating their lost loved ones. People find solace where they can.
If you want to find out more about the owner of a particular grave, the findagrave.com website is a terrific resource.
Sources:
Frisby, Helen 2019. Traditions of Death and Burial. Shire Library
Hayman, Richard 2019. Churches and Churchyards of England and Wales. Shire Library.
Heritage, Celia 2022. Cemeteries and Graveyards. A Guide for Family and Local Hstorians in England and Wales. Pen and Sword
Post, W. Ellwood 1962, 1974. A Concise Dictionary: Saints, Signs and Symbols. SPCK
Yorke, Trevor 2017 (2nd edition). Gravestones, Tombs and Memorials. Countryside Books
Websites:
Cemetery Symbolism
https://cemeterysymbolism.wordpress.com/
A splendid introduction to stained glass artist Trena Cox by Aleta Doran
Many thanks to Aleta Doran, Artist in Residence at Chester Cathedral for today’s introduction to stained glass artist Trena Cox, who was based in Chester for most of her long career. Aleta is a brilliant and engaging presenter, currently working hard on the upcoming Trena Cox exhibition, which she is curating. Although this was organized specially for Chester Archaeological Society, Aleta is doing more presentations during the Heritage Festival and if you get the chance to attend, do go. It will give you a completely new insight into the world of 20th Century stained glass, as well as introducing you to a really creative part of the cathedral’s history. I’ll keep this relatively short so as not to spoil the event for those of you who have tickets.
Trena Cox, apparently the least photographed artist in modern history, was born on the Wirral and trained at Birkenhead’s Laird School of art, learning her skills in traditional media before switching to stained glass. She has created over 150 stained glass pieces that are known, but there are probably many more to be identified. She worked mainly in the Cheshire and northeast Wales areas but her works are found further afield. There are many in Chester itself, mainly in churches. There are nine Trena Cox windows in the cathedral, one in the slype (a corridor) and the others arranged in groups of four, two at the top, two at the bottom, in adjacent aisles in the cloister (the walkway around the central garth or garden).
The big window in the slype shows the child Christ on one river bank, and St Christopher on the other. This is very unconventional, as Christ is usually depicted being carried across the water on the shoulders of St Christopher. Aleta described how this window clearly demonstrates many of the features of Trena Cox’s work, with the beautifully executed details of both figures, the surrounding landscape and the flowers, birds and animals that sit at the feet of the two figures. Also typical are the portrait-style faces, which seem incredibly life-like. The colouring of the glass, as in all her work, is vibrantly jewel-like and the background semi-opaque glass concentrates the eye on colours whilst allowing in light. There are many emblems of international pilgrimage, known from badges purchased from the Middle Ages by pilgrims to commemorate their achievements. As well as many others, these include St Thomas of Canterbury, St James of Santiago de Compostella, and of course Chester Cathedral’s own St Werburgh herself, her symbol being five geese in a basket. It is a rich and symbol-laden piece that rewards time taken to appreciate it.
The cloister used to open out onto the garth, with a stone arcade forming a corridor with the buildings that surround the cloister. In 1920 Dean Frank Bennet was appointed as the new head of the cathedral, and decided to take measures to improve the cathedral’s fortunes. In order to glaze the arcade that surrounded the garth, the dean decided to raise public funds. It is thought that some funds were raised by allowing donors for the cloister glass to add commemorations to loved ones in panes withing the windows, which survive today. Each window represents a saint, religious festival or holy day. Trena Cox contributed eight panels in two adjacent sections of the cloister, showing eight different saints. In one set of four, the two at the top are Hugh Lupus who founded the abbey and St Werburgh’s mother St Ermengild In the lower section are St Thomas Becket and King Henry II. In the other set, the two figures at the top are Abbot Witchurch and Ralph Higden and the two below King Alfred and St Piegmund. Aleta talked us through the significance of each of these saints, and why there were chosen. These are much smaller and therefore much simpler compositions, but again the colours are vibrant, and the faces resemble portraiture.
Aleta wrapped up by telling us something about Trena Cox and her influence on Chester life, not only as an artist but as something of an activist for the protection of local heritage. It seems remarkable that she is not better known, at least in Chester where she lived nearly all her life. Hopefully, the upcoming the exhibition “Trena Cox: Reflections 100”, which begins on the 7th October, will bring this under-sung local personality and talented, prolific artist to much wider public attention. Do take advantage of a tour of the glass with Aleta Doran if you have the opportunity. As an artist herself, she offers a unique insight into the work of Trena Cox.
You can follow Aleta Doran on Twitter (@StargazingAleta), or via her blog at https://www.aletadoran.co.uk/
“Excavations at Heronbridge 2002-5, Part 1: The Roman Settlement,”
Great to arrive home from our trip to our CAS introduction to Wirral-born stained glass artist Trena Cox by Aleta Doran (about which more later) and find the Heronbridge report on the doorstep. The report, “Excavations at Heronbridge 2002-5, Part 1: The Roman Settlement,” is a satisfyingly chunky 207 pages with maps, illustrations and photographs. It describes Chester Archaeological Society’s excavations between 2002 and 2005 at the Roman settlement at Heronbridge, about 2.5km south of Chester City Centre. With numerous contributors, headed by David J.P. Mason, it is edited by Peter Carrington with Rowan Patel and Alison Smithson (Chester 2024).
For those who wish to know a bit more about this publication, here are the cover details, the Table of Contents and the list of contributors. You can click to expand any of the images:
Just for fun – National Egg Day (U.S.): Egg Bamya
As today is National Egg Day in the United States, I hopped on the transatlantic bandwagon and decided to make myself an Egyptian egg bamya. I usually do a bamya in an electric slow-cooker with a piece of lamb shoulder or a lamb shank, but it is easy to turn it into a vegetarian dish for a change, by making eggs the star of the show and doing it on the hob. Eggs work brilliantly, and their texture is a great balance to the vegetables and sauce that accompany the dish. This is easy and quick to make and is delicious. Without the eggs, it becomes vegan. Depending on how much harissa and fresh chilli you add, this can be as hot or cool as you like.
To make the base, I used a tagine, which I use for just about everything on the hob, but if you use a skillet or tall-sided frying pan that has a lid, it works just as well. Heat some olive oil, add roughly chopped onion, fennel bulb and ginger, and when warmed through add fennel seeds, garlic, ras el hanout, saffron and harissa (I use the Bart brand), and fresh chilli if required (bearing in mind that there’s chilli in the harissa, and that there will be the option to add chopped chillis added later). When cooked through add tomatoes and vegetable stock and heat through, Then whizz the whole lot up in a blender or food processor. That’s the base sorted. Put it back in the pan and if you have time either leave it for a few hours, or overnight to develop the flavours. When ready to proceed, turn your attention to the vegetables.
For the veg, today I heated up some olive oil and lightly browned courgette cut into discs and okra (bamya is an Arabic word for okra), but aubergines also work well too (with more oil). When lightly browned, but not fully cooked, add them to the pan that is holding the base sauce. A couple of handfuls of spinach or, when in season, ramsons (wild garlic) are splendid stirred in to the base at this stage too. Then, over the top, add preserved lemon slices, sliced fresh red chilli, halved artichoke hearts (beautiful small ones are available from M&S and great Cypressa brand ones in some Co-op branches, both of them in oil in jars; and brined ones in tins are available in all big supermarkets). When in season, apricot halves work well too, Push them down into the sauce.
If you are using a shallow dish, with everything spread out, gently push down the halved or quartered hard-boiled eggs into all the deliciousness, and the job is done. If you are using a deeper saucepan, leave the eggs out for now.

A rather inelegant bowl of the final version – comfort food rather than Michelin star appearance, more ladled in than plated up, and topped with a serious amount of divine coriander and mint from the garden. I could have lavished more attention on the appearance but I was famished, and it tasted super.
If you are using a shallow dish, with everything spread out with the eggs sitting in the top, it all heats through, starting from room temperature, under a lid on a low flame for around 35 minutes. The captured steam, recycling under the lid, helps to heat from the top as well as the bottom, meaning that you can preserve the look of the thing and prevent the egg yolk dividing from the egg white if you want to plonk it on the middle of a dining table for the visual impact.
If you are using a deeper saucepan, cook the ingredients on a medium flame for around 20 minutes, drop the temperature to low, and add the eggs for another 7 minutes or so just to heat them through.
A couple of minutes before serving I gently fold in a big handful of fresh coriander, another of oregano or marjoram and a smaller handful of mint, careful not to disturb the eggs. This adds fresh flavour and gently softens the herbs.
To serve, I add a good sprinkling of coriander (see below for alternatives) and lime juice over the top.
To serve on the side, either plain Greek yogurt or tzatziki (Greek yogurt, chopped mint and diced coriander, with a quick squeeze of lime) is superb and balances whatever heat you’ve added with the harissa and chillis. Whipped feta cheese with mint and olive oil is also a great alternative. I find that this dish needs salt. Rice (very good with saffron in the water) or cous cous are obvious additions if you want a filling side dish, and salad works well too.
If you hate coriander, here are three possible alternatives other than flat-leaf parsley. It’s a bit esoteric, but you can buy potted lovage in garden centres, It has an aromatic, slightly citrusy edge that needs to be used cautiously because it is strong, but often works as a good substitute for coriander for those who hate it, although it tastes quite different. Alternatively, and again it has to come from a garden centre, the finely-chopped stems and feathery foliage of fennel are mild but noticeable and work really well as an alternative. Marjoram and oregano are both aromatic Mediterranean herbs that grow brilliantly in pots, and also work well when chopped over the top of this. Both lovage and fennel bought in small pots and planted out into bigger pots with compost grow like crazy, last all summer and are superb. They vanish underground for winter, but reappear in spring, and lovage in particular turns out to be remarkably hardy. Marjoram is more tender and may not survive the winter, but oregano tends to be quite resilient.










































































