Category Archives: Church and chapel

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.

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.

Headstone of George Henry, with a lily, the symbol of mourning, purity and peace

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!

Truncated column; weeping woman; angel; Celtic crosses, temple-style gravestone. Click to enlarge

 

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.

Click to enlarge

 

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.

Some of the many different stone types at Overleigh

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.

Lead lettering on the fallen headstone of Harriet Benson, died 1909 aged 63

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.

Overleigh Old Cemetery with its wonderful tree life, part cemetery and part arboretum

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
    —-

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

Grosvenor Bridge entrance to 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.

First page of the The Chester Cemetery Act in 1848

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

The pillars at the base of the monument, which once formed the temple

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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The section of Overleigh New Cemetery dedicated to the Commonwealth War Grave commission memorials

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.

The grave-diggers’ hut, fenced off.

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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.

Looking towards the far end of Overleigh New Cemetery, where new graves are still added

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Family Research

Overleigh Old Cemetery

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 Old Cemetery

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.
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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:

Charles Edward Armitage, d.1930, Overleigh New Cemetery

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/

 

The rustic bridge that was part of the original Penson design

 

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 Chester HQ building where the nunnery once stood

Gresford All Saints’ Church – a beginner’s guide to funerary monuments

Full statue angels only arrive on the churchyard scene in the Victorian period.

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.

Headstones

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

Ledger of 1710

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.

Chest tomb dating to 1835, one of a kind within this cemetery

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?

A table tomb of 1879

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.

Platform of stone paves, surrounded by railings, presumably the remnants of an elaborate monument.

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.

Headstone with kerb defining the area of the grave

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.”

Rose granite coped gravestone

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 irregularly shaped churchyard

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!

What appears to be one or more chest tombs, completely overrun and concealed by ivy.

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.

Ledgers encroached on by moss as well as grass and lichen

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.

A ledger and inscription dating to 1796, describing the pain that the deceased suffered.

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/

Interesting example of a chest tomb that has suffered de-lamination but where the carving of the inscription was so deep that even where it has de-laminated, some of it can still be read.  The ivy is beginning to gain a foothold.

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/

Birkenhead Priory – A 2-Minute Video

This is a bit of an experiment, using my iPhone, which I’ve never tried before for video.  I did a lot of camcorder videos of scenery when I lived in Aberdovey on the west coast of Wales, but fell out of the habit when I moved to the Chester area, so I am out of practice, feel very peculiar using an iPhone to do video, and hate the sound of my voice, but here we go.  So here’s my two-minute introduction to the wonderful priory of St Mary and St James, aka Birkenhead Priory, for  better or for worse. I’ll get better!

April’s ‘Chester Archaeological Society’ visit to St Collen’s Church in Llangollen

The Chester Archaeological Society 2024 season of excursions started excellently today with the CAS visit to the Church of St Collen, who gave his name to Llangollen. It is the only church in Wales to have taken the saint’s name. Like most Medieval churches in Wales, St Collen’s has undergone considerable alterations, including an 18thcentury tower and a 19th century chancel, vestry and south nave, but there are some very fine 13th century features to be seen, in the Perpendicular Gothic style, including an impressive shrine canopy and mason’s marks. There are also intriguing signs that a Lady Chapel was once incorporated into north aisle. The most remarkable feature of the church is a really superb hammerbeam roof bedecked with ornamental sculptures, both religious and secular, from the early 16th century.

Today, to ensure the survival of the church as a living and breathing community asset, it is undergoing extensive but very sympathetic re-forming.  Suzanne Evans is the Project Manager of this massive task, and was our superb guide today. Suzanne described how the reinvented church will be fully inclusive, not only of the existing congregation who are much-attached to the church, but of the wider community as well, taking into account the needs of those currently unable to make the most of what St Collen’s has to offer. At the same time, the exciting opportunity will be taken to investigate as much of the church’s architectural and funerary history as possible, adding to the community’s understanding of this important contributor to the town’s impressive ecclesiastical heritage.

Suzanne guided us around both the key features and recent discoveries, explaining all the steps to be taken in the upcoming weeks and years. As well as replacement glass doors and the opening up of the nave to enable the interior to be visible by passers-by, there will be new lighting, heating, kitchen and toilet facilities, as well as a large stage, which will all contribute to enhancing the value of the space and improving the visibility of the superb architecture. All archaeological and architectural discoveries will be professionally recorded and published.

After a very welcome cup of tea, there was a round of applause as we thanked both Suzanne for being our terrific guide and Pauline for making all the arrangements. It was great to meet some of the other CAS members, and to hear all the questions and observations. There was a lot of information sharing, which is exactly what one expects of CAS members. What a great start to the year’s excursions! Many thanks again Suzanne and Pauline.

The 13th century exterior

 

Normanton Church, Oakham (Peterborough overnight trip #2)

When I was driving back home from Peterborough after a visit to the small city’s stunning Romanesque cathedral (see part 1) I took a detour to see the exquisite Grade 2 listed Georgian St Matthews Church on Rutland Water, also known as Normanton Church, near Oakham.  It is about half an hour’s drive from Peterborough.  The interior was unavailable due to a wedding, which was a shame as I have a real weakness for Georgian churches, but it is always good to see a church earning its keep today.  Even without seeing the interior, it was well worth the detour just to enjoy the sight of the ridiculously lovely church on its little artificial island.

Source: Normanton Church before the flooding of the valley. Source: Rutland Photographic

The church used to sit on dry land, overlooking the Rutland valley on the site of a medieval church.  This was largely rebuilt in 1764 by Sir Gilbert Heathcote, although the original tower was retained.  The new tower and the western portico were built in the 1820s. I particularly like the way that the open architecture of the tower provides visibility of the views beyond, helping it to blend in with its environment.  Even though the church and its tower were built in two separate phases, the integrated whole works splendidly.

The future of St Matthew’s looked very precarious when plans were made for the Rutland valley to be flooded to create a reservoir to meet the demands of a growing population, which was carried out in the 1970s.  It was predicted that the water would reach the level of the little church, even though it sat on land near the top of the valley, submerging its foundations.  It was only rescued from watery decay when there was a public outcry.

You can read the brief story of its salvation at the Normanton Church Wedding website, but essentially the bottom of the church was filled with rubble and provided with a concrete floor to stabilize it against water damage at its base.  With a little isthmus from this artificial island connecting it to the land at the edge of the lake, the church was once again accessible and, unsurprisingly given its charming personality and its wonderful scenic setting, is a very popular wedding venue and visitor attraction.  It is quite simply delightful.

The history of  the church is shown on the Historic England website, apparently via Pevsner, as follows:

Former church. 1826-9 and 1911. By Thomas Cundy, Sen. and Jun., and J.B. Gridley of London. Ashlar and balustraded slate roof. W tower with W portico and nave with apse. Now entirely filled to half-way up previous wall height for the purposes of the reservoir which encircles church. In classical style. Portico, vestibule and tower of 1826-9 with semi-circle of 4 Ionic columns for the portico and 2 piers and 2 further columns in antis either side outside the vestibule. Balustrade above vestibule and tower over. This is open and on circular plan with 4 free-standing Corinthian columns in NE etc. directions, with Corinthian entablature over and sloping roof with pine cone finial: the whole close to the towers at St. John’s, Smith Square, Westminster. Nave and apse of 1911, by Gridley, of 3 leaded windows either side. Stone shouldered architraves with chamfered lintels and prominent keystones. Windows framed by order of Ionic pilasters with entablature and balustrade over. Niche on E end. N doorway with 2 leaved door. Inside, the nave cove has 3 arches with decorated coffers and the apse simple plasterwork. Pevsner.

There is a large car park for visits to the church and other lake attractions, with barriers, and has a pay point.  The church is along a short walk from the car park, along a metalled path, which takes about 5 to 10 minutes.

Peterborough Cathedral (Overnight trip to Peterborough #1)

This is a slight departure for this blog, the usual premise of which is that every visit can be accomplished in a day, there and back, from where I live in Churton.  The visit to Peterborough required a stop overnight.  I have always wanted to see the Romanesque cathedral at Peterborough, which is a former Benedictine abbey.  I set out by car early on a Wednesday in November 2023 and stayed one night in Peterborough near the town centre, visiting the cathedral both on the Wednesday afternoon and again on the Thursday morning.  On my way home on Thursday afternoon I visited the lovely Normanton Church.  The routes taken and other visiting details are at the end.

Peterborough Cathedral is covered in part 1 (here) and a very brief snapshot of Normanton Church on its custom-made plinth on Rutland Water is in part 2. Needless to say, I have barely skimmed the surface of the cathedral’s history.

Introduction

South transept

Peterborough Cathedral is somewhere I have wanted to visit from the moment that I laid eyes on photos of it in a book. It has an almost split personality with its magnificent and unique 3-bay Gothic frontage, its sublime Norman-Romanesque interior, the stunning painted nave ceiling and the almost organic delicacy of the fan vaulting in the date eastern extension.

The abbey was terminated in Henry VIII’s dissolution of all the monasteries, but like Chester Cathedral was fortunate to escape some of the indignities of this process when it was converted to a cathedral. The building that visitors see today, dedicated to St Peter with St Paul and St Andrew, is the third abbey. The first abbey, Medeshamstede, was destroyed by Danish invaders.  The second abbey church, built over a century after the demolition of the first, burned down by accident although the cloisters survived.  The third abbey church was started from scratch, and is remarkable for the survival of the magnificent Romanesque vision.  All three abbeys were built on the same site, and there is some evidence for a Roman building beneath them.  The three phases are described very briefly below.   For detailed descriptions see one of the guide books available, or the cathedral website’s History page (details in Sources at the end).   If you go in person, I recommend the guided tour.

The 7th Century Abbey – Medeshamstede

Artist’s impression of Medhamstede, shown on an information poster in the cathedral

Bede’s 8th century Ecclesiastical History says that the first abbey on the site, Medehamstede, was established  in the 7th century, and it is now thought that it was founded in around 654, and was probably built of wood.  A later phase may have seen the rebuild of the wooden walls in stone, imported from a quarry to the west.  Very little is known about the building and its phases, although the artist’s impression to the right is a useful suggestion of what might have been on the site.  The first abbey was very isolated, deliberately divorced from human settlement to provide a suitable environment for contemplation and prayer.

The River Nene in Peterborough

Perched on the side of the River Nene and on the edge of the marshlands and mudflats of the Fens, it was an ideal location for peaceful contemplation and prayer.  For this and subsequent abbeys on the site the nearby marshy Fenlands provided one of the best resources for freshwater fish in England, offered a rich habitat for wildfowl and supported reed beds that provided the raw materials for thatching roofs.  The land also had the farming potential required for an expanding self-sufficient and isolationist community, providing summer pasture for livestock, and later on, when improved techniques of land drainage were mastered, the opportunity for agricultural development.  Communication links were provided by the River Nene and the nearby Roman road. 

The monastic community would have been organized along very austere lines adhering to the so-called Celtic tradition of monasticism.  The abbey became an important early religious centre, and founded a number of daughter houses in Leicestershire, Northamptonshire, Kent, Surrey, and Bermondsey (now in southeast London), which were important vanguards of the spread of Christianity.  I

The Hedda Stone

Housed today in the cathedral chancel / presbytery is the Hedda Stone shown above, a large and beautifully sculpted piece of limestone belonging to this period of the abbey’s history, showing Christ, Mary and the Apostles.  It is carved on both sides and pierced with holes that have no generally agreed purpose.  It is quite easy to miss, so do make a point of finding it, as it is delightful.

In 870 the abbey was plundered and destroyed during a Danish attack on the east coast, and the site, now abandoned, became part of the Danelaw territory.

The 10th Century Abbey – Gildenburgh

Plan of Saxon and Medieval Peterborough showing the outline of the second church. F is the site of the gate stormed by Hereward and the Danes. It is thought that E is the old marketplace, replaced by the new town in 1133-1155. The motte is thought today to have been built by Abbot Thorold. Source: Current Archaeology 89, 1983

In the 10th century, Æthelwold of Winchester had a vision of Christ in which he was instructed to rebuild the abbey of St Peter.  He was assisted in this challenge by Dunstan of Canterbury and by King Edgar and Queen Ælfthryth.  It was consecrated in the early 970s by Dunstan as a Benedictine monastery (i.e. one following the guidelines for monastic life developed in the 6th century by St Bendict of Nursia, Italy).  From fairly early on it was decided to provide it with a defensive wall, making it a fortified settlement or “burgh.”  The church was laid out along traditional lines with a nave, two transepts and a chancel at its east end.  It must have been provided with a belfry, because Æthelwold provided 10 bells for the church.  Although there were no sources of stone and wood close to the site, these were imported from Barnack and Rockingham Forest respectively. 

The prestige of the monastery rose when it acquired an important relic, the right arm of Oswald, a Saxon king and saint who was noted for his kindness to the poor and whose arm, with which he handed out so many alms, survived, perfectly preserved, after he was killed in battle.  The monastery’s position was again strengthened in 1041 when one of the monks, Æthelric, was chosen as Bishop of Durham.  The selection of the abbey as the final resting place for Ælfric Puttoc and subsequently Cynesige, both archbishops of York was an indication of how well regarded the abbey was in the 11th century.  Like many Benedictine monasteries, it became a major landowner, becoming wealthy and both economically and architecturally ambitious, accumulating books for a library, and fine objects for its ceremonies and liturgies.  It was so rich that it became known as the golden burgh, Gildenburgh.

Reconstruction of the abbey precinct at the time of Hereward’s attack. Source: Peterborough Abbey

The second abbey was still standing proud when William the Conqueror landed in England.  Its abbot, Leofric, died in the Battle of Hastings.  Abbot Brand, who followed him, was also Saxon and supported opposition to the Norman invasion. This opposition was punished with heavy taxation, and when Brand died in 1069 the abbey was put into the hands of an abbot, Thorold, loyal to William. In the event, a local Saxon rebel, Hereward, had found an ally in King Swein of Denmark, and in 1070 the Saxons and the Danes marched on Peterborough and plundered it.  Although the arm of St Oswald was saved by the prior (second in command) the rest of the treasure vanished with the rebels.  The abbey itself was badly damaged, and what survived was occupied by the abbot and sixty knights and significant portions of land that had once formed the basis of the abbey’s wealth was now allocated to many of those knights, filling the formerly rebellious countryside with loyal Normans.

When Thorold died in 1098 he was replaced by two successive abbots who had very little impact, but the third abbot to be appointed, in 1107, was Ernulf who was prior of Canterbury, a scholar with a good understanding of political manoeuvring, who had plenty of ambition for his new posting.  He began by rebuilding the damage to the cloister buildings that had been largely destroyed by Hereward. In 1114 Ernulf moved on to Rochester and was replaced by Abbot John de Séez.

In early August 1116 when a fire broke out in the bakery and took most of what remained of the abbey church with it, although Ernulf’s new claustral buildings survived beyond the abbey church.  A new church was now not only desirable but necessary.

Today’s abbey, established in the 12th Century

The Romanesque architecture

Plan of Peterborough Cathedral. Click to expand.  NB – the “sanctuary” is referred to in most of  the Peterborough Abbey literature as “presbytery” so I have stuck with the latter throughout. Source: Sweeting 1899, Project Gutenberg

Abbot John de Séez oversaw the construction of a stunning new Romanesque building, complete with a vast vaulted presbytery.  The scale of his ambition saddled the abbey with such an enormous financial and logistical commitment that it took 120 years to complete.  Masons who had worked at Durham were brought in to ensure that the most up to date civil engineering techniques were employed, and what unfolded was a mixture of magnificent vision and superb skills.  The church was laid out on the usual cross-shape, with a long nave, side transepts (containing chapels) and a shorter east end.  The south wall of the church (the righ thand side of the plan) made up the north wall of the cloisters, the administrative and domestic buildings were located, arranged around a square garden called the garth.

Entering the nave, the interior is light-filled and breathtaking. With windows on three levels, light pours in.   Cromwell’s soldiers destroyed the medieval stained glass, and the plain replacement glass allows in much more light than the stained glass would have permitted.  Of course it does help that the cathedral has installed artificial lighting, but even allowing for the changes, the layers of window and the soft, faintly reflective pallor of the Barnack limestone walls must have provided a degree of light that was remarkable in the Middle Ages.

View from just inside the west entrance to the end of the presbytery, with the pulpit in the foreground, and the modern rood (crucifix) hanging over the entrance to the Victorian choir

Because there is no surviving pulpitum (a stone division between nave and choir in monastic churches) or rood screen (again, between nave and choir), there is a very rare almost uninterrupted view from the west end entrance to the restored stained glass windows at the east end.  In spite of the 19th century marble edifice that sticks up in the middle of the presbytery, the impression of a vanishing point is dramatic and gives a real sense of the length of the building.  The walls soar upwards too, meeting a unique and fabulous painted ceiling.

On the death of Abbot John, the new Abbot Benedict, from Canterbury, persisted with the same vision.  This is interesting because at Canterbury new ideas from France, captured in the Gothic style, were being implemented, but for whatever long-lost reason, Benedict retained the Romanesque plan that Abbot John had initiated, including semi-circular apses at the east end, one of which survives within the rectangular “New Building” that surrounds it.  This apse is a rare survivor as most British churches had their apses removed for replacement by rectangular extensions such as Lady Chapels and similarly prestigious expansion projects.  Benedict extended the original design west by two bays, and if you stand at the west end and look at the arches of the aisles you can clearly see the difference.

Blind arcading in the north aisle beneath the great arches of the windows

The nave and the two transepts contain the bulk of the easily visible Romanesque architecture.  That within the east end presbytery is more difficult to view.  The long nave with its side aisles is monumental.  The massive arches of the aisles, with characteristic geometric decoration, are supported on vast octagonal piers.  They are topped with another set of arches, each of which contains twin arches separated by slender columns topped with square capitals.  The top level features rather smaller central arches, each flanked by even smaller blind arcades.  The transept ends are simpler, each with three levels of of arches, each of the same size, with unpainted roof panels in the same lozenge shapes as those in the nave.

 

The lost cloister and infirmary

Artist’s impression of the cloister on an information board in the remains of the abbey cloisters.

Today’s cathedral was once the abbey church, and is a wonderful survival, but it was only one part of the monastic establishment.  A cloister was always an integral part of the monastic establishment, with buildings along three sides of a courtyard or garden, with the church making up the fourth side.  This cloister was usually on the south side of the church, sheltering it from the worst weather and providing it with seasonal sun.  The central part of it was often a garden of some description, called the garth.  The buildings arranged along the three sides included the refectory, where the monks ate, the dormitory where they slept and the chapter house where they held daily meetings.  Some of these buildings could be very elaborate and ornate, particularly the chapter house.

If you leave through a door in the south side of the cathedral (on the right as you head from the entrance towards the end of the nave) or turn right in front of the cathedral and head down a narrow pathway, you will find yourself in what remains of the cloister.  There is some very fine stonework left behind, giving a hint at the magnificent buildings that once stood here, and many of the changes that the buildings clearly underwent.  The buildings were robbed for building materials following the Civil War.

Cloister wall, where it meets the abbey church

Beyond the cloister was the infirmary.  Many monastic establishments were furnished with an infirmary, mainly to take care of the elderly and unwell within the monastic community, but most of these are long gone, and again there is some attractive gothic arcading that indicates where the monastic ifirmary was located, to the east of the cloister.  It was built by Abbot John de Caux in around 1250.  It is worth mentioning, because it gives some idea of the scale of the monastic operation at Peterborough.

Relics

The 12th century Becket Casket (Height 29.5cm; Width 34.4cm; Depth 12.4cm). Source: V&A Museum

No important abbey was viable without relics of saints, which gave it great spiritual credibility, prestige and integrity.  Amongst the valuable relics collected were the arm of the Saxon saint Oswald of Northumbria. More prestigious by the 12th century were the bloodstained objects directly connected to the murder on 29th December 1170 of St Thomas Becket of Canterbury (the reliquary for which survives in the V&A museum).  A 12th century genuine British martyr, canonized in 1173, was a remarkable thing, and the snaffling of authenticated relics for Peterborough was a real coup.  Benedict did not witness the martyrdom, but he became an ardent collector and collator of Becket miracles. Becket had actually been to Peterborough, visiting with King Henry II in 1154.  A chapel was built to St Thomas at the abbey gate in 1174 to hold this and other relics, allowing pilgrims access to monastic relics without permitting them to disrupt the abbey church itself.

Painted walls and woodwork

Romanesque cathedrals in Europe often preserve painted decorative patterns on walls and ceilings, some emulating red mortar,  but only faint hints survive in Britain.  Fortunately, some very delicate paintwork in Peterborough survives.  As well as imitation mortar, and some lovely swirling curves, there is a truly charming section on the ceiling with tiny red flowers that may have been intended to evoke the Virgin Mary, who is often associated with red and white roses.

Within the apse, at the rear of the Presybytery, accessible from the New Building ambulatory,  there are coats of arms painted on the white walls.  Given that the eye is inevitably drawn first to the Hedda stone and the enormous marble high altar, it is easy not to notice the paintings.  I have been unable to find out anything about them either in the literature I have to hand or on the Peterborough Cathedral website, but they probably belonged to wealthy benefactors of the abbey or the later cathedral.

The chapels in the south transept were provided with wooden screens to provide access and entry, and provide privacy.  Remarkably, some of the decorative painting on these also survives.

The west front, the porch and the Lady Chapel

The Romanesque building did not escape the fashion for Gothic style embellishments.  Tracery in the window arches, for example, is Gothic, and the Romanesque interior was topped and tailed with a remarkable Early English west front and a stunning fan-vaulted rectangular ambulatory around the central semi-circular apse at the east end.

The unique 3-bay frontage was started in 1195 but progress was halted when King John, and England as a whole, were excommunicated from the Catholic church in 1209.  When the crisis was over, building resumed under Abbot Hugh, and it is thought that he made some changes the original design.  The result is three 29m high arches at the front, the central one narrower than the two flanking ones.  Inset into these are further arches.  Flanking the arche tops and and built into the triangular gables above were a total of 22 figures looking out from the front, although many have crumbled and have now replaced.  The three at the top of the gables are Saints Paul, Peter and Andrew.  The figure at the very top of the central gable is St Peter, overlooking the entrance, and marking the transition from the impure outdoor world to the heavenly space within.

Following the 13th century fashion for adding a Lady Chapel to a church, dedicated to the Virgin Mary, one was built at Peterborough 1272-1286 to the north of the presbytery, accessed from the north transept, and was still standing by the 17th century, when it was taken down during the Civil War. It was in the Gothic style and was probably elaborately decorated and furnished.

A later Gothic porch, dating to 1375, protrudes from the middle of the west front.  I was inclined to be more than a little judgmental about the porch, which looked like a very misguided vanity project, but I stand corrected.  It was found that the central arch of the west front was beginning to tip forward, and the engineering solution was to create a wedge to prop it up.  The structurally necessary wedge was designed as a Gothic style galilee porch with perpendicular windows, and although it breaks up the magnificent frontage, has done a great job of preventing its collapse.

The 15th century “New Building”

The so-called “New Building,” a sublime gothic vision, is in fact an eastward extension of the Romanesque cathedral.  The New Building was probably built between 1496 and 1508  by star architect John Wastell of Bury St Edmunds (later responsible for the fan vaulting at Westminster Abbe, under the abbey’s superior, Abbot Robert Kirkton.  This was no mere add-on, but a fabulously imagined and beautifully crafted piece of fan-vaulted delight.  The abbot who took the gamble of gluing on an extension to a perfectly conceived Romanesque delight lived up to the legacy of his predecessors.  The ceiling bosses, some of which are shown in the above photograph, were carved with both secular and religious themes showing coats of arms, symbols of the saints, and other familiar subjects.  The job of the extension was to enclose the central semi-circular apse within a rectangular extension, providing a low-level ambulatory around the inner sanctum, which rises above it, for ceremonial processions.  Ambulatories often contain additional chapels, but the cathedral’s architecture remains largely uninterrupted and therefore retains the impact of the fabulous fan-vaulting, which is one of the largest examples in England.

Ceiling boss showing the instruments of the passion

The New Building also, of course, delivered some fairly glossy feathers to the cap of the abbot who was so pleased with himself that he incorporated his name, a partial rebus, into the building itself.  Abbot Robert Kirkton was not a self-effacing man – his initials are also conspicuous in the elaborate Prior’s Gate that he built and which celebrated key royal figures in the form of their heraldry, and ornamented with Marian roses, managing to be both obsequious and self-congratulatory.

Prior’s Gate by Abbot Kirkham

The unique 13th century painted ceiling

Magnificent painted ceiling of the nave

Deserving a post in its own right, the wooden ceiling is a marvel.  Unique, it was started in around 1238 and was finsihed sometime in the 1240s.  It is made up of a series of lozenge-shaped panels, which one painted either with a small scene or with leaf and floral motifs.  The repeating pattern of the lozenges is dramatic from below.  Interpretation of the scenes has established that the individual subjects are arranged into a series of core themes, but there is much that it still unclear.  Obvioulsy religious scenes like the Creation, The Lamb of God, Saints Peter and Paul and the Anti-Christ are accompanied by historical clerics and kings, music, astronomy and the liberal arts. A scene showing a money riding backwards on a galloping goat whilst holding an owl is a representation of folly.  John Foyles  dedicates several pages to the ceiling in his book and there is a book about it by Jackie Hall and Susan Wright for those who want to delve deeper (see sources at the end).

Unpainted wooden ceilings over the apses are also arranged in lozenges, and are very fine in their own right.

Lozenge-shaped framed painting on the ceiling of the nave., showing St Paul holding a sword in his right hand and a book in his left (panel C7). The sword evokes the means of his martyrdom (beheading) and the book represents his epistles.

The Tudors before the Dissolution

The main contribution of the Tudors to the cathedral are the tombs of Katherine of Aragon, who died in 1536 and Mary Queen of Scots in 1587.

Katharine of Aragon had been married to the heir to the English throne, Arthur, elder brother of the future Henry VIII.  When Arthur died, Henry VIII married his widowed sister-in-law.  When the marriage failed to produce the necessary male heir, Henry decided to annul the marriage.  Unable to obtain papal permission to do so, he split from the papacy and established the Church of England.  Katherine was shuffled off to Kimbolton Castle, where Henry hoped that if she was out of sight of the public, she would also be out of mind.  When she died she provided, on Henry’s orders, with a tomb in Peterborough Abbey, the nearest important ecclesiastical building to Kimbolton.  Here she was identified as the widow of Henry’s  brother Arthur.  This was presumably Henry’s excuse for not granting her a place in Westminster Abbey.  Deposited under the floor up against the south side of the presbytery, where she would be close to God, she was provided with a monument above the grave.  This was destroyed in the Civil War, but the grave beneath remains in situ, marked by a stone slab and gold lettering. 

The Dissolution

The opening page of the Valor Ecclesiasticus (the survey of monastic establishments that paved the way to the Dissolution), showing Henry VIII. Source: Wikipedia

The New Building had only just been finished in the first years of the 1500s when Henry VIII fell out with the Catholic papacy.  Henry, having found a way to both dissolve a marriage that produced a daughter but no male heir to his throne, and simultaneously remove papal authority over both his personal affairs and the management of the church, also found that being the head of his own Church of England enabled him to raise substantial funds by laying claim to all the properties and goods of the monasteries, priories and friaries, by simply denying their ongoing right to exist.   The Dissolution caught up with Peterborough abbey in 1539, which had survived the first round of closures that took place in 1536.  The abbot at the time was John Chambers, and he was unusually fortunate.  He took no part in the protests in Lincoln or the Pilgrimage of Grace, and although initially pensioned off his meek resignation to the inevitable was rewarded.  Whether it was because of the creation of new dioceses at this time, or because Henry VIII’s first wife Katherine of Aragon was buried here in 1536, the abbey escaped demolition and was converted instead to a cathedral in 1541 with John Chambers as its first bishop.  Of all the 100s of abbeys, priories and friaries that were dissolved by Henry VIII, only a handful were converted to cathedrals, of which Chester Cathedral is another example.

Fifty years later Peterborough was again the royal choice of burial place for an embarrassing queen.  Executed in 1587, Mary Queen of Scots was buried on the opposite side of the presbytery from Queen Katharine.  She remained there for 25 years until her son, James I, removed her remains to Westminster Abbey

The Civil War

Peterborough, from Speed’s 1610 map, shortly before the Civil War. Source: Sweeting 1899, Project Gutenberg

During the English Civil War of 22 August 1642 – 3 September 1651, each side attempted to use the medieval castles to gain advantage.  The result was that many 13th century castles were slighted (demolished) to prevent re-use at the end of the Civil War.  Castles were fair game, but religious institutions were also targeted because they represented a different threat – the challenge to Puritan religious belief.  Henry VIII had rejected Catholic authority, but his Church of England was established for convenience, and the Church of England contained many lingering aspects of its Catholic ancestry.  Oliver Cromwell’s soldiers were given free reign to obliterate any of the artistic signs of lingering tendencies to papism to force through reform.  What they could reach they either maimed or destroyed.  What they could not reach they sometimes hit with musket fire.

One of three surviving misericords at Peterborough Cathedral

At Peterborough, as in so many places, the medieval stained glass was demolished.  Some of the stained glass windows at the east end today was formed of the fragments that people picked up and saved after the Puritans had left.  The painted ceiling over the east end apse was shot with muskets, but somehow the ceiling over the nave was missed.  The choir stalls, together with the misericords (the so-called mercy seats once in the choir stalls, all of which were carved with fascinating scenes on their undersides) were also destroyed at this time.  Only three of the misericords survive (at Chester there are 48 misericords, which gives some idea of the level of destruction at Peterborough).  The survivors are preserved in a chapel on the south side of the nave near the entrance, a sad reminder that something quite spectacular has been lost.  The high altar was also destroyed.  The cloister buildings were used as the raw materials for nearby Thorpe Hall.

The 17th and 18th centuries

This sub-heading would normally be an exercise in naming and shaming, but, amazingly, the abbey has not suffered the usual indignities of an important ecclesiastical building during this period.  There are no 17th and 18th century monuments jostling for position on the walls to undermine the sense of coherence and uniform splendour.  The soaring nave in Westminster Abbey, utterly spoiled by truly awful funerary memorials, is a good example of how badly a beautiful building can be dramatically undermined by later insensitivities. Although some of the monuments in Peterborough Cathedral were damaged during the Reformation, there seem to have been restrictions on the number permitted.

The biggest surviving monument is baroque, dedicated to wool merchant Thomas Deacon, former high sheriff of Northamptonshire and founder of a charity school for 20 boys.  He died in 1730.  His wife, who died 10 years later, is also commemorated on the monument.  I would much rather that it had not been built in the cathedral, at the entrance to the New Building, because it is such an alien presence, but it is a particularly fine example of its type.

The Victorians

Two of the most active restorers of the Victorian period were Sir George Gilbert Scott and John L. Pearson.  Unfortunately, although their ideas of restoration included the valuable rescue and repair of serious damage and decay, it also involved what they clearly thought of as improvements to the original vision of earlier architects and artists.  Enthusiasts of Chester Cathedral and Valle Crucis Abbey in Llangollen will probably have Gilbert Scott’s name ringing in their ears.

The crossing

In the late 1800s the tower was on the verge of collapse and it was Pearson who was responsible for dismantling and rebuilding it, a massive undertaking that saved the cathedral from irreparable harm.  His work altered the 14th century tower but was done to blend in with the existing architecture.  The twin sets of choir stalls, to the east of where the originals were located, the cathedra (bishop’s throne) and the pulpit are also Pearson’s work, and although clearly not medieval, are a skilled emulation of a medieval style quire.  Pearson’s, however, was the evil genius that created the temple-like marble high altar within the presbytery as well as the cosmati floor leading up to it.

Cosmati floor

Gilbert Scott was responsible for the painted ceiling over the apse, which he claimed at the time was based on the damaged example that he was replacing.  It is unmistakeably Victorian in its rendition and colouring.

Gilbert Scott’s ceiling in the apse

In this period the circular cast iron Gurney stoves were added, manufactured by The London Warming and Ventilating Company who bought the patent registered in 1856 by Goldsworth Gurney, surgeon turned engineer.  The stove looks like the filter in my wet-and-dry vacuum cleaner, with ribs standing out from a central cylinder, distributing heat in a full circle.  It was fired by anthracite, and the entire thing sat in a trough of water, helping to add humidity to the air.  Peterborough cathedral retains several of them, and they are in many other cathedrals too.  The Peterborough ones are powered by either as or oil, and they do a stunning job.

Modern additions

There has been some restoration work in the last few decades, but the emphasis has generally been on preservation rather than modernization. For example, many of the badly decaying figures on the west front were replaced by Alan Durst between 1949 and 1975.

A particularly noticeable modern addition is a hanging rood – a red crucifix with Christ in gold affixed to it, suspended from the ceiling at the east end of the nave, added in 1975. This hangs above the line that the rood screen would have taken across the nave.  Up against the south side of the presbytery some very fine gold lettering, was put in place to mark the burial place of Mary Queen of Scots, which works well.  In the New Building, someone has seen fit to place framed photographs on the walls between the fan-vaulting columns, which really doesn’t do the architecture any favours.  The entrance to the west end has automated glass doors, which add to the light, and there is of course the inevitable gift shop on your left as you enter.  Outside, Thomas Becket’s chapel is now a tea room.

Final Comments

The Romanesque is so comparatively rare in Britain, that this stunningly coherent and unfettered example is a particularly amazing treat.    When the decision was made to extend the east end in a contrasting style, the slender, delicate columns and fan-vaulting of the New Building provided contrasting but additional brilliance. Moving through the building from the Norman to gothic gives the sense of being in an ecclesiastical time machine, a transition from one perfect world to another.

There is so much more to be said about the abbey and its features, inside and out, so much that has been missed out here.  If you decide to visit, you won’t be disappointed.


Visiting

View from the choir to the east end

I am accustomed to driving to southeast London, so rather than looking at other options I took was my usual route, zipping down the A41, the M54, the M6 and the A14.  From the A14 the A605 goes straight to Peterborough and I was there, end to end with no delays, in just over three hours.  The A41 is always the joker in the pack because it is a long way from Chester to the M54, there are very few sections of dual carriageway and it can be difficult to overtake if you find yourself behind something slow.  The A5 to Shrewsbury and the M54 is sometimes quicker.

The cathedral opening times are on the website, where any special events and closures are shown.  Although I had done some top-level background reading I was lucky enough to arrive half an hour before a Highlights Tour was due to start, so I had a wander around on my own and then returned to the entrance for the tour.  I failed to get my guide’s name, which is particularly sad as I had her to myself, November being a quiet time of year, and we had a great chat.  She was splendidly knowledgable, encouraged my stream of questions and added multiple layers of detail and interpretation to my visit.

There was full-on white frost resembling snow over the days that I visited, and it was exceedingly cold, but thanks to the deployment of multiple Gurney stoves in the cathedral (fabulous heat-generating monsters like the ones in Chester Cathedral), I actually had to take off my top layer.  It is the first cathedral I’ve ever visited that actually felt cosy!

For those who are dealing with unwilling legs, Peterborough as a whole is on the flat.  The cathedral has very few steps to negotiate, automated doors provide access to the cathedral, a ramp is provided to get into the chancel from the New Building to visit the Hedda stone, and there are a great many places to sit down even beyond the nave.

I returned home via Normanton Church (see my short post with photos), for no better reason than it looked pretty and I do love a well-proportioned Georgian church, so my return journey was different, following the A606 to Melton Mowbray (I didn’t stop but it looks interesting), the A6006 and the A50 to Stoke on Trent and Nantwich, and the A534 home.  Thanks to a convoy of lorries on the A6006 it was slow going but it was a spectacularly beautiful day and the unfamiliar landscape showed to terrific advantage in the sunshine.  The A50 is dual carriageway, very unlovely but a smooth run.  The drive from Peterborough to Churton, via Normanton Church, took me just over four hours (not including the time wandering around at Normanton).

Sources

Books and papers

Pair of figures believed to be Roman, possibly late 2nd century. In the west wall of the south transept

Biddick, Kathleen. 1992. The Other Economy: Pastoral Husbandry on a Medieval Estate. University of California Press

Foyle, Jonathan. 2018. Peterborough Cathedral. A Glimpse of Heaven. Scala

Higham, Jack (Revd. Canon). 2001. Peterborough Cathedral. The Pitkin Guide.  Pitkin

Selkirk, Andrew and Selkirk, Wendy 1983. Peterborough. Current Archaeology, no.89, vol.VIII, October 1983, p.182-183

Sweeting, W.D. (Revd.) 1899 (second edition). The Cathedral Church of Peterborough. A Description of its fabric and a Brief History of the Episcopal See.  G. Bell and Sons Ltd.
https://www.gutenberg.org/files/13618/13618-h/13618-h.htm

Book about the nave’s painted ceiling (which I have not read, but is listed here for those who would like to find out more)
Jackie Hall and Susan Wright (eds.) 2015. Conservation & Discovery: Peterborough Cathedral Nave Ceiling and Related Structures. MOLA———

Websites

Peterborough Cathedral website
https://www.peterborough-cathedral.org.uk/
Visiting: https://www.peterborough-cathedral.org.uk/home/visiting.aspx
History: https://www.peterborough-cathedral.org.uk/history.aspx
The painted nave ceiling: https://peterborougharchaeology.org/peterborough-cathedral-nave-ceiling/
Abbot Benedict: https://peterboroughcathedral.wordpress.com/tag/abbot-benedict/
Katherine of Aragon: https://www.peterborough-cathedral.org.uk/home/katharine-of-aragon.aspx

National Character Area Profile: 46. The Fenlands
Natural England
https://publications.naturalengland.org.uk/file/5742315148673024

Books by Abbot Benedict of Peterborough available online
https://onlinebooks.library.upenn.edu/webbin/book/lookupname?key=Benedict%2C%20Abbot%20of%20Peterborough%2C%20%2D1193

Antarctic Heritage Trust
The Gurney Stove in Antarctica
https://nzaht.org/gurneystove/

 

Part 3: Misericords in the Chester-Wrexham area – Miracles, myths, demons, and the occasional grin

Creature wheeling two women in a barrow towards a hellmouth. All Saints’s Gresford

Apologies that it has taken a couple of weeks for part 3 to appear.  The subject is so massive and it seems impossible to do it justice in a blog post but eventually that big, accusing Publish button just has to be clicked 🙂

Part 1 introduced misericords and described some of the themes captured in the choir of St Werburgh’s Abbey (Chester Cathedral).  Part 2 described the misericords at Gresford, Malpas and Bebington.  This 3rd and final part addresses who might have been responsible for the themes chosen, who may have paid for the misericords, why they were contained within the most sacred part of the church and how they might be understood.  Finally I have added some visiting details for the cathedral and the three churchs, plus a list of references for all three parts.

Selecting the misericords

How were the topics selected and by whom; who carved them; and who paid for them?

How themes were selected

Scene showing in both the main scene and the supporters St Werburgh’s miracles. Source: Dominic Strange, World of Misericords

Each misericord showed a different subject matter, and whether there were 48 (as at Chester) or 14 (as at Gresford) there could be great diversity in the themes selected.  The patron saint of an abbey or church might dictate the subject matter in a single misericord, like the miracle of St Werburgh at Chester, but this accounts for only one misericord of any one corpus.  Some themes are commonly found throughout misericord collections and are evidently part of a popular repertoire or corpus of themes.  As Anderson says in his survey of gothic art, “The subjects of misericords did not have to be consistent, so any good design, from whatever source it came from, could be used on them,” but particular themes and ideas were probably favoured in each different establishment, leading to a different character and ambience from one set to another.  The enthusiasm for certain themes will have changed over time, reflecting both popular and intellectual fashions, but all were chosen from similar types of source material.

Folio 49v from the Smithfield Decretal showing a fox, with mitre and crozier, preaching to a flock of birds. Source: British Library

Manuscripts were an obvious source of ideas.  Bestiaries such as the beautiful MS Bodley 764, referred to in parts 1 and 2, provided a wealth of ideas, as did travelogues. Both Old and New Testaments, missals and hagiographies (biographies of saints, often at least partly fictional) were also alternative sources.  The Golden Legend by Jacobus de Voragine in the 13th century was a particularly popular account of the lives of saints, which even today is a good read.  The marginal scenes shown on various religious illuminated manuscripts including psalters (books of psalms) and books have hours (personal books for private worship) probably supplied others, which included so-called drolleries and grotesques.  The Luttrel Psalter and the Smithfield Decretals are good examples.  Contemporary chivalric romances, popular narratives and collections of stories like the 14th century French Cy Nous Dit (which contained versions of the tales of Tristan and Isolde, Alexander carried over the edge and the exploitsof the knight Yvain – all of which are at Chester) were good sources of stories with a moral thread. Towards the end of the Middle Ages it has been demonstrated that some themes were inspired by woodcut images that were circulating in Europe following the success of the printing press in the mid-15th century.

Image and supporters copied from earlier examples. The model for the central image was first carved at Lincoln in the 1370s (top), then reproduced with much more gusto and exuberance at St Werburgh’s Chester in the 1380s (middle) and finally, with much less energy than either, at St Mary’s Nantwich in the 1390s (bottom). All sourced from Christina Grössinger, The World Upside-Down, p.47 (see Sources at end)

Carvers almost certainly brought ideas with them from other abbeys, cathedrals and churches, which they could share with their new employers.  Some topics are clearly copied from one ecclesiastical establishment to another, probably introduced by carvers who moved to new building projects as they became available.  Sixteen designs in Chester were based on those from Lincoln, and six in the the impressive parish of St Mary’s church in Nantwich, were copied from Chester.  The herons on a misericord in St Werburgh’s, for example, were very nearly clones of a misericord at Lincoln Cathedral, although the supporters are different.  An even more striking example is a crowned head with wild hair and beard, flanked by two heads in profile. This appears first in Lincoln Cathedral, then at St Werburgh’s Abbey in Chester.

Although St Werburgh’s may have been expected, by virtue of its proximity, to have provided the inspiration and basic model for the later examples at Gresford, Malpas and Bebington, none of the misericords are copies of surviving Chester examples.  There are indeed shared themes, but there are no attempts at replication.  This suggests that in each case the choices made drew on other sources for their ideas, perhaps reflecting the time gap between the Chester and later misericords, or otherwise reflecting local choices or preferences.

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Who would have been involved in the choice of themes?

Abbot with staff and book. MS. Ludwig IX 6 (83.ML.102), fol. 222v. Source: Getty Museum

It is not known exactly how the topics depicted on individual misericords were chosen, but there are a number of possibilities.  At an abbey or independent priory, the superior (abbot or prior) and the senior personnel may have dominated the decisions, but individual monks from the larger monastic community may have contributed to the selection process too.  External patrons, whose financial input would have been necessary for a project on the scale of the Chester quire are likely to have wanted to contribute to their own favoured themes.  In a parish church both the senior clergy and the bishop would probably have dominated the decision process, but external, private financial contributors such as local landowners may also have had a vested interest in the selection of themes.  Multiple sources of finance, each perhaps buying a vote in the selection process, would help to explain the diversity of the subject matters chosen both within a single choir, and the differences from one church to another.

It is sometimes suggested that misericords were the brainchildren of the craftsmen who carved them, indulging themselves with creative and sometimes (to the Victorian mind) off-colour designs without any direct input from the clergy.  Being confined to the choir in the most sacred part of the church, however, it seems unlikely that anything could have been selected and installed without the permission of a head cleric, such as the abbot in the abbey, or a parish priest (or his bishop) in a church.  It also seems implausible that an abbot or bishop would sit back and allow expenditure to be used unchecked on fantastic frivolities that would have to be accounted for to both superiors and inferiors alike.  Although carvers probably suggested certain popular themes based on their own experience, the misericords and their themes must have been sanctioned at the highest levels.

Who carved the misericords?

Stained glass portrait, thought to be Master Carpenter Hugh Herland. Source: Upchurch Matters

Remarkably little is known about the wood carvers who created these remarkable vignettes.  For prestigious projects carvers seem to have moved from building to building.  Christina Grössinger identifies a single London workshop as having been responsible not only for the Chester and Lincoln wood-carvings, but also for those that at St Katherine’s in Stepney (London) and the former Carmelite friary in Coventry.  John Harvey had formerly identified the hand of famous Master Carpenter Hugh Herland, who worked on a number of royal and prestigious college projects in the 14th century, at Lincoln and particularly Chester, but Grössinger rejects this suggestion, and a quick look at Herland’s list of responsibilities for the decades in which the Lincoln and Chester misericords were made (1370s and 1380s respectively), suggests that he was probably far too busy on prestigious works elsewhere to oversee these two projects as well.  Present in Chester between 1377 and 1411, however, was William Newell the king’s chief carpenter who was probably involved with the work on the choir, at the very least in an advisory capacity.  For a Benedictine monastery like St Werburgh’s it was important not merely to raise the status of the individual abbey, but to contribute to the prestige of the Benedictine order as a whole, particularly in a period when monastic orders were becoming much less influential in society and politics.  Whoever was responsible for overseeing the project, many carpenters will have contributed to the misericords and canopies, and both the designs and the work are certainly exquisite.

St Andrew’s, Bebington

The preference for the most prestigious carvers available in the country suggests that where prestige was important and the finance available, only the best carvers would do and could be hired from places at considerable distance from the institution concerned.  The impressive churches of Malpas, Gresford and Bebington would not have had the same scale of financial resources, nor the same ambitions for national prestige reached for by the abbot Chester abbey, but quality was still important.  Carvers were more likely to have been sourced closer to home, but even so the skills required may still have required importing specialists to oversee and ensure high quality. In his paper on the carvers of the Oxford colleges, Gee says that during the 14th century the pay for a Master Carpenter, was around 4d monthly.  For a nationally recognized and prestigious Master Carpenter of whom the above-mentioned Herland is an example, this rose to around 1s. There was therefore a wide scale of pay for different levels of skill and creativity.  work.

Who paid for them?

Canopies above the choir stalls in Chester Cathedral

Elaborate choir stalls with misericords were luxury items for a church, raising the prestige of the incumbent clergy and the establishment as a whole either nationally for an abbey or cathedral, or regionally for a collegiate or parish church.  They were, in functional terms, unnecessary but for some monasteries and churches, the investment may have been important for institutional and social reasons, reinforcing the position of the church in the wider community at a time when ecclesiastical influence was in decline.  Status and vanity projects always come with a substantial bottom line, and the funds would have been acquired from a number of different income streams and one-off sources.

A monastic establishment like St Werburgh’s might have any number of income streams. The Benedictines, the longest established monastic order of the Catholic tradition in Britain, had been endowed with enormous estates and resources.  Monasteries were amongst Britain’s greatest landowners, owning huge swathes of the rural landscape.  This level of royal and significant magnate  investment had trailed off by the early 1300s, so monastic establishments were forced to make the most of the property they already owned and attempt to secure smaller but still significant bequests and investments, and one-off donations for special projects.  Ongoing sources of funding included tithes (funds appropriated from churches that it adopted), the often impressive output of produce sold from a network of monastic farms, private bequests in wills, and contributions by living benefactors.  Appropriating churches, and securing their income, was increasingly important throughout the later medieval period.  Chantries were also an excellent source of income for urban monasteries.  These were financial foundations set up by individuals to pay for an ordained monk, or several monks, to recite multiple prayers for himself/herself after death, as well as for his or her family and ancestors;  These were invaluable income-generators for monasteries.  Pilgrim shrines could also be very lucrative for monasteries with appropriate relics, particularly if they were reputed to perform miracles.

Probable burial places of some of  the medieval abbots in the cloister at St Werburgh’s, Chester

The abbot and monks themselves, might contribute to prestigious projects.  Although the earliest Benedictine monastic orders had been based on vows of poverty, and the reforming orders of the late 11th and early 12th centuries renewed these vows and intentions, by the late 14th century the Benedictine monks had lost their ambition for poverty, and were  rarely self-effacing.  Although it was a particular thorn in the side of Henry V in the early 15th century, abbots and their monks might well be considerably wealthy in their own right.  This was in spite of St Benedict’s proscription against the ownership of private property in the Rule on which the Benedictines were supposed to base their monastic lives.  An abbot’s subordinates too might have access to personal wealth. To ensure his own personal legacy an abbot of an important urban monastery might invest in a prestigious project that, in the case of St Werburgh’s included not only the choir stalls but the elaborate and intricate canopies above.  The abbot would probably be able to secure contributions from his community of brethren as well, and would certainly attempt to secure donations from beyond the cloister.  For those both within the community and those outside it, there was the hope that by contributing their mite to the glorification of God, they might serve less time paying for their sins in purgatory.  Even where in-house monastic funding was available, the gifts of patronage might be important to  elaborate monastic improvement, and for a project as immense as the St Werburgh’s quire, significant investment would have been welcome.

In an urban environment although there might be additional opportunities for securing funds, there might be competition with other establishments.  For example, St Werburgh’s charged for burials within its cemetery, and was in competition with other ecclesiastical establishments in Chester to secure those payments.  However, there was a particular prestige to being buried in a monastic context, and more importantly the possibility of being as close as possible to the divine.  Any wealthy Chester resident who wanted to be buried within the of the abbey precinct, and particularly the abbey church itself, would have to pay a very steep price for the privilege.

Elaborate and costly wood carving on the screen at the entrance to the choir at All Saints’ Gresford.

Perhaps more intriguing are the sources of the investment for the three parish churches.  These might also include tithes, which were a type of tax due from every household to fund the parish church (in the form of produce for much of the Middle Ages), if there was any surplus remaining after the clergy had been paid and church costs defrayed.  Another form of income were chantries that were set up in parish churches as well as monasteries, particularly the more prestigious parish churches.  These too might provide an income from which a surplus could be saved for special projects.  A more promising source of sufficient funds for a  was likely to be bequests and donations made by a number of particularly wealthy benefactors and patrons, either individuals, families or organizations.  For parish, collegiate and cathedral churches crowd-funding by the congregation might have been a possibility. Although most of the congregation was excluded from the chancel, (within which the choir was located), Nicholas Orme makes it clear that wealthy and influential parishioners, as well as choristers, might be given access.  These more privileged members of the congregation would have access to any work within the chancel to which they contributed either large one-off gifts or piecemeal funding, even if they were not primary benefactors or members of founding families.  It is also possible that access to the chancel was an incentive for anyone who had the money to invest in ecclesiastical projects.  Access to the chancel, and burial within its confines, were highly desirable as this was the closest that most people would come to the divine prior to death.  If the parish priest was independently wealthy, he too much contribute to the costs, as might the bishop.

Little of the abbey church survives at Basingwerk

A different possibility is the purchase, wholesale or piecemeal, of the misericords from another building.  If an abbey or priory church went out of use, a set of choir-stalls might become available for purchase at a fraction of the price of commissioning a new set from scratch.  A parish church with wealth of its own, or with patrons who wished to make a mark, might benefit from the unexpected windfall.  The Dissolution of the Monasteries under the reign of Henry VIII from 1535 to around 1540 liberated many church furnishings for purchase by less exalted establishments.  In Lancashire, for example, choir stalls from Whalley Abbey found their way into a local parish church, whilst in Lancaster itself the misericords may have come from a nearby Premonstratensian establishment.  There has been a suggestion that the Gresford misericords might have been sourced from Basingwerk Abbey at Holywell following its 1535/1536 dissolution.  However, the impressive Monastic Wales research portal states that the choir stalls from Basingwerk actually went to St Mary’s on the Hill in Chester, presumably complete with misericords, a claim echoed in the ChesterWiki page for the church (but unsupported by any citation) as part of a general refurbishment. I have not seen the original sources and their arguments for either proposal.  If the stalls were once at St Mary’s on the Hill they are not there now.  Gresford All Saints’ seems, anyway, to have had both the ambition and the funds if it wished to comission its own choir stalls during the 15th century when the church was substantially remodelled.
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The role of misericords

A sense of meaning

All Saints’, Gresford

In spite of the genuinely fascinating and academically impressive work carried out on the subject, there are no definitive answers about how a corpus of misericords is best understood.  There is so much variety and as Gombrich observes, for some of these images “[t]here are no names in our language, or categories in our thought, to come to grips with this elusive dream-imagery in which ‘all things are mixed’. . .  It outrages both our ‘sense of order’ and our search for meaning.”  The overtly religious themes on some misericords are accompanied by far less obviously appropriate scenes including on the one hand horror, myth, fantasy and the monstrous and, on the other hand, humour, farce, ribaldry, Colish’s “red thread” of satire and, perhaps, some very early forerunners of schadenfreude and even burlesque.  Misericords are one of the few ecclesiastical contexts in which the lower echelons of society can be observed. The acrobats at Gresford have already been mentioned in Part 2, and entertainers and sports of various sorts are common.

St Werburgh’s Abbey, Chester

In spite of the difficulties it is irresistible to try to address some of the questions.  For example, why was highly irreligious imagery, some of it very funny, included in the most sacred of ecclesiastical spaces? Why were naked human private parts, women beating men, foxes lecturing geese, upright cats, writhing dragons, strange beasts, wildmen and ugly monsters shown side by side with, on the one hand, lowly peasants and jesters and, on the other hand, saints, angels, kings and heraldic symbols of the nobility?

Whilst parts 1 and 2 demonstrated how individual misericords can successfully communicate certain stories and convey specific ideas, an entire corpus of misericords is rather more interesting as a sum of the various parts, presumably containing somewhere within it the religious, ideological and cultural motivations, the very heart of why these carvings existed in the first place.

A framework for living

Alchemic approach to four humours in relation to the four elements and zodiacal signs. Book illustration in “Quinta Essentia” by Leonhart Thurneisser zum Thurn (gen. Leonhard Thurneysser). Source: Wikipedia

From today’s perspective, the world of the Middle Ages encompassed a very different set of experiences, and this has to be factored into any attempt to understand medieval imagery.  These many challenges of the Middle Ages were understood within a descriptive and explanatory framework that helped to give a sense of order.  As well as the overarching structure provided by Christianity, there was a framework for neatly organizing existence into manageable chunks.  The natural world was divided into four primary elements: air, fire, earth and water, with air opposite earth and water opposite fire.  The human body was divided into four “humours,” and the human condition was divided into four “states.”  All were characterized in terms of heat and moisture, and were influenced by both the four seasons and the 12 astrological points of the zodiac.  In Christian terms, the presence of the devil and his demons, the reality of purgatory and hell, and even the performance of saintly miracles were all aspects of a world that for most people, were a reality in which the supernatural was entwined with the everyday.  Structuring the world in this complex way formed a model for understanding it and operating within it.

There were also less structured but equally useful mechanisms for coping with a life in which more nebulous anxieties and worries did not fit neatly within the conventional framework.  The supernatural had its own role, which did not always dovetail smoothly with other explanatory models.  Superstition, the rumblings of magic and divination and the presence of evil in the dark corners of the supernatural all had a role to play.

The realities of medieval life

The central theme of this misericord is a two-bodied monster with a single head. The supporters are also monsters, their tails connecting them to the misericord.

Everyday life in the later Middle Ages, and the 14th century in particular (the century in which the Chester misericords were carved) was hard. The 14th century was not merely a matter of political change and social unrest, but incorporated the Great Famine of 1315-17 the arrival of the terrible Black Death of 1348-1350, and the recurrence of plague outbreaks in 1361-2, 1369, 1374-9 and 1390-3 during which thousands of people died and entire villages were permanently abandoned, and following which economic challenges inevitably occurred.  Other notable events included the relocation of papal power from Rome to Avignon in 1309; the Ordinances of 1311, which imposed limits on Edward II’s power;  Robert de Bruce’s defeat of Edward II at Bannockburn in 1314; a period of political and military turmoil followed by Edward II’s forced abdication and probable murder in 1327; Scottish independence in 1328; the beginning of the 100 Years War in 1337 under Edward III, which brought with it periods of purveyance and heavy taxation; the 1341 parliamentary crisis; the 1351 Statue of Labourers (Edward III’s attempt at wage-fixing); the death of Edward III in 1377;  the Papal Schism of 1378; John Wycliffe’s anti-Catholic writing (inspiring his Lollard followers) and his vernacular English editions of the Bible in the mid to late 14th century; the Peasants’ Revolt of 1381; and the removal of Richard II from the throne in 1399.  For Cheshire and northeast Wales, the appointment of Edward III’s son the Black Prince as Earl of Chester in 1333 and Prince of Wales in 1343 were also particularly relevant.  A great many more dates could be added to this brief and selective list, but this is probably sufficient to highlight the social and political turbulence of these decades.  The late 14th century misericords in British monasteries and churches, with their often threatening and subversive themes may say as much about social anxiety as spiritual fervour.

Lion fighting a dragon flanked on each side by a wildman (wodehouse), one riding a wyvern and the other killing some form of dragon-like creature. St Werburgh’s Abbey, Chester

Writing about the monsters, hybrids, wildmen and grotesques populating the margins of the Luttrell Psalter (dating to the 1320s-30s), Michelle P. Brown could also be commenting on the 14th century misericords when she says:  “They reflect the neuroses of a society in flux, one rightly concerned in the face of political corruption, international warfare, civil war, famine and demographic decline.”  Some of these anxieties and concerns are translated into analogous images on the misericords, which became vehicles for representing the extreme aspects of both familiar realities and potential realities that link life as it is lived and the “other.”  Here the familiar meets the unfamiliar in the liminal, teetering right on the edge of the unknown beyond where mermaids, dragons, wyverns, unicorns, strange humanoid beings and the unknown lurked.  These territories on the edges and margins of observable reality are places of high risk, where strange beings and actions are not only possible but plausible.

This was obviously not a simple matter of juxtaposing conventionally opposing ideas like saints-and-angels versus devils-and-demons.   In the medieval period the there was a recognition of the border spaces between the sacred and the profane, the religious and the domestic, a blameless life and a misspent one, good and evil, life and death, death and rebirth.  This in-between existence is space that is neither hell nor purgatory and might act as a reminder that between this world and that occupied by the divine, there was significant uncertainty.

Bearded man at St Andrew’s, Bebington. Source: Dominic Strange, World of Misericords

Although the unusual, the mythical and the allegorical stand out, ordinary people may also be represented.  They do not feature prominently at either St Werburgh’s or Gresford’s St Oswalds, where most of the original misericords are present, but ordinary people occur on misericords outside the Chester area.  The obviously religious themes interlock with scenes of everyday life, some allegorical, some empirical, some scurrilous. Michael Camille suggests that misericords are like the Mystery plays in that they allow “anecdotal details and the depiction of social manners” including folk stories and fables and scenes of domesticity and seasonal activities.  The inclusion of peasants engaged in hard work, such as those shown in the Labours of the Months, (the most complete example of which is at a church in Ripple, Worcestershire, shifted there from Whalley Abbey after the Dissolution) may represent a dependence on the annual cycle, but may equally capture the nature of the social order itself, with saints at the top and serfs at the bottom, all equally important at least in God’s eyes.

Woman as a tornado of anger with cowering man, flanked by two very cross characters. Chester St Werburgh’s

As Grössinger says, however, most of the everyday people shown on misericords are engaged not in the domestic realm or in serious pursuits, but in “a subversive view of everyday events that can both entertain and teach.”  These depictions include acrobats, contortionists, hunting, wrestling, feasting, brawling, bear-baiting and music making.  When ordinary people begin to behave in a challenging way, there may have been a great deal of unease about the reality of God’s creations humans being less than perfect specimens who were unable or unwilling to use free will for good.  Misericords depicting women beating men, foxes preaching to geese,  gymnasts displaying their private parts, may well represent the use of derision and humour to mediate the uncomfortable realities of everyday social discord, another aspect of the subversion of an idealized view of life.  This was perhaps just as true of medieval creative thinking as it is of today’s, and ties in with an explanatory framework in which both monsters and monstrous behaviours were part of God’s creation, and should be included in any understanding of reality as it is perceived and the liminal areas beyond our immediate vision or geographic location.

The lovers Tristan and Isolde. St Werburgh’s, Chester

Heroic, chivalric and romantic tales bear testimony to the rewards of idealized behaviour in the face of such challenges, but clearly comment too on the risks confronted by good people who encounter evil, temptation and other dangers.  These narratives offer approaches to handling danger and mechanisms for defeating fear and the fearsome.

Interestingly, the misericords do not tend to focus on the image of death itself and only rarely give death a voice, unless it is to remind the onlooker of Christ’s sacrifice for humanity.  Demons, hell and people being delivered to the hellmouth are certainly represented, but these are more a threat to the living, teetering on the edge of the abyss, than a characterization of death itself.  Depictions of skeletons, the personifications of death,  fairly unusual, even in the 15th century when the Danse Macabre (and John Lydgate’s derivative Dance of Death) and cadaver monuments, and in particular transi tombs, became popular.

Fox preaching to cockerel and geese. All Saints’, Gresford

Finally, there is always the matter of tradition.  Whilst the 14th century misericords at places like Lincoln, Chester and Nantwich may have been a response to the difficulties of the times, it is quite likely that much later misericords were seen more in the light of a connection with the historical integrity of the church, the honouring of an ecclesiastical tradition and a form of validation of more modern works, as well as a resistance to ecclesiastical change, by reference to the past.

Why were carved misericords incorporated into sacred spaces?

View of the choir from steps to the central altar, Gresford All Saints’. The carved screen divides the sacred space of the choir, the choir-stalls and the misericords from the public nave beyond.

In a church the choir is divided from the long nave, where the congregation gather, by a screen.  Perhaps the dangerous and threatening was best contained and restricted within the choir, where religious rituals were concentrated, and where the clergy and monks could contemplate and learn from the disruptive and unsettling scenes before (and under) them.  It must have been accepted at some point that the inclusion of irreverence and crudity sitting alongside religious themes had a useful role and would not, most importantly, be offensive to God.  If the themes were essentially a coping strategy consisting of fashionable morality tales and derisive warnings against bad behaviour, such forms of expression probably needed to be safely contained, segregated from those who might misinterpret them and retained for the benefit of those who could contemplate them and understand their role.  Acknowledging risk and conceptualizing it in the form of margins and misericords was a way of bringing a wit and energy to the unknown world of the “other” that sat beyond the edges of medieval life, but it was not suitable for everyday consumption.

One of the Victorian replacements at Chester St Werburgh’s showing one of Aesop’s fables, the fox and the stork.

It is worth remembering that at least in the context of monastic establishments and collegiate churches, and probably in the greater majority of the parish chancels, the choir was the domain of men alone.  It is all too likely that the more risqué of these themes were considered far too warm and witty for delicate female sensibilities and, in the majority of cases, for their inferior intellects too.  Confining such scenes to the choir would normally guarantee an exclusively male audience.

Context:  Themes that reflect the misericords in other forms

Delightfully grotesque creature, one of many clinging to the walls of All Saint’s, Gresford. Its beautifully chosen red sandstone skin against the pale yellow masonry makes it particularly ghastly!

Very briefly, where misericords are found, it is worth having a look around to see what other types of similar imagery may exist both within the church and on the exterior.  The subject of architectural gargoyles and related grotesques has already arisen on this blog in connection with Gresford All Saints’ church, where the twisted, deformed, ugly and bizarre look down on gathering congregations and passers by, marching in sequence along the string-course, spewing out water, or apparently poised to pounce from window corbels and string courses. There was no limit to medieval imagination, and the exteriors of many medieval churches display some of the most extraordinary and creative monsters anywhere in the late medieval world.

Pilgrim and bench end, St Werburgh’s Abbey, Chester

Interior imagery includes choir-stall arm rests, bench-ends and bench-end carvings and sculptural components such as corbel supports. In some big ecclesiastical establishments the ceiling bosses and vaulted arch corbels are also used to capture the mythological, the fantastic and the entertaining.  Camber bream ceilings may be accessorized with sculptural components in wood or stone where the ceiling beams meet the walls.  Baptismal fonts sometimes display elaborate imagery, and where original medieval floor tiles remain, these too often display images and symbols.  Medieval stained glass, where it survives, although better known for its display of the great and the good sometimes captures subjects from the margins.  These may or may not be contemporary with misericords, but add to the story that successive generations of clergy and congregations could read in their place of worship.

Together, all these carved forms, whether in wood or stone, formed a complex ecclesiastical world in which miracles, judgement, purgatory and the apocalypse were the stuff of fact, and in which saintly shrines channelled divine power, and where the unregulated performance of domestic solutions were probably manifestations of harmful superstition and demonic magic inspired by the devil.  The messages of risk and uncertainty, coped with by following Christ’s example and ameliorated by belief in the love of God, were carried throughout the church, inside and out.
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Final Comments

Over the three posts in this small series I have barely touched the surface of what misericords meant to churches and their clergy and why they merited their cost.  That is partly because the topic is so rich and the corpus in Britain alone so massive.  There have been many attempts to get to the root of what the misericords, in each corpus, are intended to do, what role they are designed to perform.   It is possible in each place to pick out key themes in misericords, including religious and miraculous scenes; domestic, seasonal and everyday activities; kingly and knightly pursuits and adventures, many of them referencing popular chivalric romance and courtly love; the fantastic, monstrous, mythical and legendary; and the seriously crude and scatological.  The medieval interest in the “other” is very conspicuous.

All Saints’, Gresford

Misericords did not shy away from even the most bawdy elements of human existence, challenging the binary, recognizing the complexities of Christian lives.  Rather than simple black and white contrasts of good versus evil, the misericord vignettes capture an entire kaleidoscope of social and cultural perception and commentary.  It does not matter in which order the overall message is read, but it does matter that it incorporates a deeply felt form of reality beyond the immediately observable, which may offer both opportunity and risk.  Whether amusing, tender or shocking, misericords have the ability to tell a moral tale, carrying real impact in their didactic role, encouraging introspection and self-awareness.

Arm rest. St Andrew’s, Bebington

Between life as it was lived every day, the the supernatural as it was imagined, and those strange foreign lands and invisible realities with with strange monstrous beings, there was plenty to worry medieval people.  These are sources of potential anxiety and stress that paid no respect to social standing.  Misericords represent the diversity and unending variability of living things and their experiences, both natural and supernatural along the entire continuum of human and divine life.   Although sometime based on stories captured in manuscripts, and sometimes loose copies of paintings and prints from northwest Europe, the misericords have a voice of their own.  Approaching them as embodiments of layered meaning can add depth and richness to each individual piece, but they are equally appealing for their visual splendour, and can be appreciated simply for their beauty, mischief, boldness and charm.

Visiting (as of December 2023)

The layout of the choir stalls and description of their misericords. Source: Stephen Smalley 1996 (see “Sources” at end)

On my multiple visits to Chester Cathedral in 2022 and 2023  the misericords have usually been available to view.  Although they are sometimes roped off, particularly when an event is upcoming, you can usually go between the lower choir benches to lean over and see some of the misericords, and there are usually cathedral staff around to ask if you can get a little closer.  On my visits to Gresford and Malpas, the misericords were accessible to view when the church was open to visitors and not being used for services and events.  St Andrew’s in Bebington can only be visited by appointment (see below) but again the three misericords are on unrestricted display.

None of the locations have obligatory entry fees, but Chester always has someone at its reception requesting a voluntary donation into a big perspex box (or by swiping a debit/credit card).  There is also a gift shop and very good café in the former abbey refectory, which is a wonderful space in its own right.

Swordplay. St Oswald’s, Malpas

Gresford, Malpas and Bebington do not have reception staff, but as village churches they are even more in need of voluntary donations.  Given how beautifully these churches are maintained, it is well worth giving them support.

Gresford All Saints’ and Malpas St Oswald’s are still open for services, weddings and funerals, as well as community activities, but are generally also open daily for visitors. You can park outside All Saints’ on the road.  At St Oswald’s it is better to find the car park, just five minutes away, and walk.

Bebington St Andrew’s is only open for Sunday services and other formal events, and visiting is by appointment only.  My thanks to the office for making arrangements for me to visit.  I’ll be writing up the entire church on another occasion.  There is plenty of parking on the road when the church is not in use for services, weddings etc.

I have included the What3Words location for those with the app installed (it works beautifully with the free Google satnav).  Check the individual websites for services, opening times and other details:

 

 


Sources

My thanks again to Dominic Strange and his World of Misericords website for allowing me to use so many of his images. He is an absolute star, and his website is a fabulous resource, one of the best examples of how websites can really contribute to research projects.

Each of the three posts in this short series was originally a lot longer, and some of the references below relate to those chunks that I cut out, but in case the full bibliography is of interest, I’ve left it unaltered.  I have not managed to track down all the references that I might have found of use, so there are gaps.  If you are looking into misericords and want the references that I have noted down for future reference but have not used here, just let me know and I will email them over.

Books, booklets and papers

Anderson, M.D. 1954. Misericords. Medieval Life in English Woodcarving.  Penguin

Anderson, M.D. 1971. History and Imagery in British Churches. John Murray.

Asma, Steven T. 2009. On Monsters. An Unnatural History of Our Worst Fears. Oxford University Press

Avilés, Alejandro García 2019.  The Visual Culture of Magic in the Middle Ages.  In (eds.) Sophie Page and Catherine Rider. The Routledge History of Medieval Magic. Routledge, p.402-431

Barber, Richard. 1992. Bestiary. MS Bodley 64. The Boydell Press

Baxter, Ron. 1998. Bestiaries and their Users in the Middle Ages. Sutton Publishing
https://www.researchgate.net/publication/340870845_Bestiaries_and_their_Users_in_the_Middle_Ages_Sutton_Publishing_1998_ISBN_0_7509_1853_5

Bench end “poppy head,” Gresford All Saints’

Beal, Timothy K. 2002. Religion and Its Monsters. Routledge

Bennett, Carol. 2015. Lincoln Cathedral Misericords and Stalls in St Hugh’s Choir.  Lincoln Cathedral.

Bildhauer, Bettina. 2003. Blood, Jews and Monsters in Medieval Culture. In Bildhauer, Bettina and Mills, Robert (eds.), The Monstrous Middle Ages.  University of Wales Press.

Bildhauer, Bettina and Mills, Robert. 2003. Introduction: Conceptualizing the Monstrous. In Bildhauer, Bettina and Mills, Robert (eds.), The Monstrous Middle Ages.  University of Wales Press

Broughton, Lynne. 1996. Interpreting Lincoln Cathedral: The Medieval Imagery. Lincoln Cathedral Publications

Brown, Michelle, P. 2006. The World of the Luttrell Psalter. The British Library

Burne, R.V.H. 1962. The Monks of Chester. The History of St Werburgh’s Abbey. SPCK.

Camille, Michael. 1992. Image on the Edge. The Margins of Medieval Art. Reaktion Books

Chunko Betsy L. 2011. Vernacular Imagery on English Misericords:  Framing Interpretation. St Andrew’s Journal of Art History and Museum Studies, 2011, vol.15, p.5-12
https://ojs.st-andrews.ac.uk/index.php/nsr/article/download/255/264/

Clifton-Taylor, Alec. 1974. English Parish Churches as Works of Art.  B.T. Batsford Ltd.

Colish, Marcia L. 1997. Medieval Foundations of the Western Intellectual Tradition 400-1400. Yale University Press

Davies, Owen. 2012. Magic. A Very Short Introduction. Oxford University Press

Dickinson, John. 2008. Misericords of North West England.  Their Nature and Significance. Centre for North-West Regional Studies, University of Lancaster.

Fry, Nick. 2009.  Chester Cathedral.  Scala

Fudgé, Thomas. 2016.  Medieval Religion and its Anxieties.  History and Mystery in the Other Middle Ages.  Palgrave Macmillan

Gee, E.A. 1953. Oxford Carpenters 1370-1530. Oxoniensia, vol 17-18, 1952-3, p.112-184

Gombrich, E.H. 1979, 1984. The Sense of Order. A Study in the Psychology of Decorative Art. Phaidon Press Ltd.

Green, Richard Lancelyn (revised by Roberts, Alan) 2018. St Andrew’s Bebington. St Andrew’s Heritage Committee

Greene, J.Patrick. 1992.  Medieval Monasteries. Leicester University Press

Grössinger, Christa. 2007.  The World Upside-Down. English Misericords.  Harvey Miller Publishers

Hardwick, Paul. 2011. English Medieval Misericords. The Margins of Meaning. The Boydell Press, Woodbridge

Hardwick, Paul. 2017. Chaucer’s Friar John and the Place of the Cat. The Chaucer Review, 52(2), p. 237-252

Harte, Jeremy 2003. Hell on Earth: Encountering Devils in the Medieval Landscape. In Bildhauer, Bettina and Mills, Robert (eds.), The Monstrous Middle Ages.  University of Wales Press

Harvey, John. 1947. Gothic England. A Survey of National Culture 1300-1550. B.T. Batsford

Hiatt, C. 1898. The Cathedral Church of Chester.  A Description of the Fabric and A Brief History of the Episcopal See.  George Bell and Sons. Available on the Internet Archive

Jones, Bethan. 1997. All Saints Church Gresford. ‘The Finest Parish Church in Wales’. The Friends of the Parish Church of All Saints Gresford.

Jones, Malcolm Haydn. 1991. The Misericords of Beverley Minster: A Corpus of Folkloric Imagery and its Cultural Milieu, with Special Reference to the Influence of Northern European Iconography on Late Medieval and Early Modern English Woodwork. Unpublished PhD thesis.
https://pure.plymouth.ac.uk/ws/portalfiles/portal/38446601/303331.pdf

Laird, Marshall. 1996.  English Misericords. John Murray

Luxford, Julian. 2005. The Art and Architecture of English Benedictine Monasteries, 1300-1540. A Patronage History. Studies in the History of medieval Religion Volume XXV. The Boydell Press

Orme, Nicholas. 2021. Going to Church in Medieval England. Yale University Press

Page, Sophie. 2017. Medieval Magic. In: Davies, O, (ed.) The Oxford Illustrated History of Witchcraft and Magic, Oxford University Press, p.29-64

Riches, Samantha J.E. 2003. Encountering the Monstrous. Saints and Dragons in Medieval Thought. In Bildhauer, Bettina and Mills, Robert (eds.), The Monstrous Middle Ages.  University of Wales Press.

Rider, Catherine. 2012. Magic and Religion in Medieval England. Reaktion Books.

Roberts, Alan. 2018. St Andrew’s Bebington. Church and Churchyard Tours. St Andrew’s Heritage Committee

Ryands, T.M. (no date). An Illustrated History of St Oswald’s Malpas.

Smalley, S. (with additional research, Fry, S.) 1996. Chester Cathedral Quire Misericords. The Pitkin Guide. Chester Cathedral

White, Carolinne. 2008. The Rule of Benedict. Penguin.

Williams, David. 1996.  Deformed Discourse. The Function of the Monster in Medieval Thought and Literature. Liverpool University Press.

Woodcock, Alex. 2018 (2nd edition). Of Sirens and Centaurs.  Medieval Sculpture at Exeter Cathedral. Impress Books

Websites

All Saints’ Church, Gresford
https://www.allsaintschurchgresford.org.uk/about-us/our-history/

Bodleian Library
MS Bodley 964 (Bestiary)
https://digital.bodleian.ox.ac.uk/objects/e6ad6426-6ff5-4c33-a078-ca518b36ca49/

British History Online
Chester Cathedral – A History of the County of Chester: Volume 3. Originally published by Victoria County History, London 1980, pages 188-195
https://www.british-history.ac.uk/vch/ches/vol3/pp188-195

The Camelot Project, University of Rochester (New York)
The Legend of Yvain.  By Dongdong Han, 2010
https://d.lib.rochester.edu/camelot/text/han-the-legend-of-yvain

Clwyd and Powys Archaeological Trust
Church of All Saints, Gresford (although note that this has no mention at all of the misericords)
https://cpat.org.uk/Archive/churches/wrexham/16785.htm

Internet Archive
Liber monstrorum. A translation of the Old English text. By Andy Orchard, taken from Pride and Prodigies: Studies in the Monsters of the Beowulf Manuscript, University of Toronto Press; 2nd ed. edition (19 April 2003)
https://web.archive.org/web/20050118082548/http://members.shaw.ca/sylviavolk/Beowulf3.htm

The Medieval Bestiary. Animals in the Middle Ages
https://bestiary.ca/

The National and University Library Slovenia
The Elaborate Details in a Medieval Manuscript. Treasures of the National and University Library of Slovenia
https://artsandculture.google.com/story/the-elaborate-details-in-a-medieval-manuscript-national-and-university-library-of-slovenia/aAXhCkz6RxgiIw?hl=en

San Francisco State University
Ywain and Gawain. (Editors: George W. Tuma, Professor Emeritus of English, and Dinah Hazell, Independent Scholar, hosted by the English Department, San Francisco State University)
https://www.sfsu.edu/~medieval/romances/ywain_gawain_rev.html

St Oswald’s Church, Malpas
https://www.malpaschurch.co.uk/st-oswalds-malpas/

Princeton University
The Elaine C. Block Database of Misericords
https://ima.princeton.edu/digital-image-collections/collection/block/intro

World of Misericords
https://www.misericords.co.uk/ by Dominic Strange

Misericords in situ within choir stalls at St Werburgh’s Abbey (Chester Cathedral)