Category Archives: Ecclesiastical History

Day trip: Architectural expression in the Cluniac Wenlock Priory in Much Wenlock, Shropshire

Introduction

North transept

Because there is no sense of a physical division between the remains of Cluniac Wenlock Priory and the very picturesque village of Much Wenlock, the one blending into the other, the village and the priory make up a terrific visit between them.  The little museum was closed when I was there, but this too is apparently well worth a visit.

The post-Conquest priory was established in the 11th century, at around 1082 by Roger de Montgomery.  The term “priory” often denotes a smaller subset of a more impressive substantial abbey, but this is misleading here.  Wenlock Priory is considerably substantial and its remains continue to impress.  The term “priory” in this case refers to its status as a foundation belonging to the Cluniac order’s founding monastery at  in France, discussed further below.

The ground plans of monastic establishments in Britain all conform to a basic formula, first established by the Benedictine order, and because most are ruined it is sometimes easy to miss the considerable variations that were built into the architecture by the different monastic orders that followed the Benedictines.  This is clearly seen at Wenlock, where specific architectural features reflect a very different ideology from many of its competitors.  These differentiating features are highlighted below.

Artist’s reconstruction of Wenlock Priory in the mid 15th century. My annotations, based on the above English Heritage site plan.  There’s a nifty feature on the English Heritage site that allows you to overlay an aeriel photograph over this image by dragging it, to show how present and past related.  Source: English Heritage

The original arrangement of the most important monastic buildings followed the Benedictine interpretation of their founder, the 6th century St Benedict of Nursia, in Italy.  The formula required that the first building to be built was a church. This formed one side of a square cloister of essential buildings, all connected by a walkway that surrounded a green square, the garth.  Other buildings would be erected later in a monastic establishment’s history, often around secondary and tertiary cloisters.

This basic layout is demonstrated at Wenlock Priory. The church was normally on the north side of the cloister, to protect the rest of the buildings from the worst of the weather and to provide light to the garth, and this is also true at Wenlock.

The rest of the cloister, main shown on the left in the reconstruction, consists of three ranges connected by a walkway.  The east range essential administrative buildings: the chapter house and the book room a door leading up to the dormitory. The dormitory extended from the east range out to the south to become one side of a secondary cloister.  The south range usually incorporated the refectory, as it does here, where the monks ate all their meals, as well as the kitchen and the warming room.  The use of the west range varied from one order to another, and at Wenlock its use is uncertain.

Blind arcading in the Chapter House

Subsequent buildings, such as an infirmary, the prior’s lodging and land set aside for a cemetery, are often lost in ruined cemeteries, but thanks to the conversion of the prior’s lodging and infirmary into a private residence, these have been preserved (although are not open to visitors).  This enables the larger layout of Wenlock to be understood, where this information has been lost in many other ruined sites.  Other elements, such as boundary markers, and a gate-house are no longer visible, but the sites of tow important fishponds have been located.
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The Cluniacs

A model representing the vast headquarters of the Cluniac order at Cluny in France as it was at its height. Source: Wikipedia, by Hannes72 CC BY-SA 3.0

The Cluniac Order was founded in 909 in the southern Burgundy area of France by the Duke of Aquitaine with the Abbey of Cluny.  The new order was created partly as a response to the belief that the earlier Benedictine order had become lax in its monastic practices and also the belief that its senior personnel were frequently corrupt.  However, although they took St Benedict’s Rules as their guideline, the Cluniac order did not follow the letter of St Benedict’s vision.

St Benedict had divided the workload of his monastic community into “ora et labora” (prayer and work).  Different monastic orders each put different emphasis on these components. Work for the Cistercians, for example, meant both physical labour and time spent both learning and copying religious texts and religious law.  For the Cluniacs, manual labour was not considered relevant, and study was rarely as significant as in other orders.  Instead, their emphasis was on glorifying God and Christ via an emphasis on liturgy and displays of material wealth.  Their elaborate architecture, stained glass, paintwork, artworks, rich vestments, priceless relics and other valuable objects, attracted wealthy patrons who related to this rich environment. 

Early in its history the Cluniac order had secured independence from the local bishopric, which usually oversaw monastic establishments, and became answerable only to the papacy.  This direct attachment to the ultimate divine authority on earth and the emphasis on liturgy and prayer were particularly attractive to endowments.  The order’s rules laid down that those who granted endowments to the order were not permitted to dictate Cluniac management of their own houses.  The Cluniacs became politically influential in France. 

La Charité-sur-Loire, Burgundy, the mother house of Wenlock Priory. Photograph by Rolf Kranz. Source: Wikipedia CC BY-SA 4_0

All this ostentatious display of piety impressed patrons, but one shudders to think what St Benedict would have made of it all.  The Cistercians, Savignacs and Carthusians all responded to the increasing materiality and conspicuous displays of wealth of both Cluniac and Benedictine orders with a different ideological and procedural way of life, already discussed on the blog in connection with Valle Crucis Abbey (Llangollen) and Basingwerk Abbey (Holywell).  It was the Cluniac model that particularly repelled the break-away orders who sought isolation, humility and hard work as more appropriate ways of honouring their Christian beliefs.  On the other hand, the Cluniac system of making all subsequent houses accountable to the mother house introduced an element of governance, together with the insistance of rule enforcement, that was not required by the Benedictines, and which helped to give the Cluniacs real cohesion, a system imitated and enforced in particular by the Cistercians.

Throughout England, following the Norman invasion and mainly between 1075 and 1175, the order began to spread throughout England, amounting to 36 new foundations, many of them very ambitious.  The first was established in Lewes in Sussex in 1077 by William de Warenne.  Bermondsey, now a part of southeast London followed soon afterwards.  Wenlock was one of the next to be established in 1180, by Roger de Montgomery.  The Cluniac order continued to be very successful, particularly in France. 

The bronze effigy of Edward III in Westminster Cathedral

Because the priory it was subject to its mother abbey of Cluny in France, Wenlock was one of many French monasteries in Englan termed an “alien priory.”  This became particularly relevant during the Hundred Years War under Edward III, which broke out in 1337.  Alien priories were suspected of representing French interests in England.  King Edward III (reigned 1327 – 1377) saw these alien priories not only as a political threat, but also as a source of income. Some were suppressed, with Edward confiscating their properties and lands, and others were ordered to pay an often crippling annual fee for survival.  Wenlock was able to pull together the funds to pay, amounting to more than half of the priory’s total annual income, and in the late 13th century, took the decision to cut its links with its mother house, La Charité, to swear loyalty as English nationals to the Crown, and to pay a massive one-off fee to secure this new “denizen status.”  Tensions remained, as La Charité was by no means ready to accept the situation, and the connection was not fully terminated until the end of the 15th century.

The Anglo-Saxon Monastery dedicated to St Milberga

Excavations have established that the Cluniac Wenlock Priory was established on the site of a much earlier monastery that had been established in around AD 675, closing in around the 10th century.  Both monks and nuns worshiped at the monastery, with each having their set of buildings including their own churches.  The monastery was dedicated to St Milburga, the patron saint of the original 7th century abbey, who continued to be venerated in the 12th century priory, just as at Chester the Anglo-Saxon St Werburgh was venerated in the Anglo-Norman Abbey of St Werburgh, now Chester Cathedral.  As with most Anglo-Saxon saints, not a great deal is known about St Milburga.  She was the eldest daughter of the King of Mercia, Merewalh, and was sent to be educated near Paris.  She arrived at Wenlock in 687 to succeed the presiding abbess of the nunnery, where she remained for three decades.  She became renowned for the miracles that she performed whilst at Wenlock.  She was supposed to have resurrected a dead child, to have banished geese that devastated the region’s cultivated fields, but she is best known for having floated her veil on a sunbeam.

 

Entering the site today – orienting yourself

Entering the nave from the west, with the piers running from west to east, the outline of the porch on your left, and the north and south transepts either side

Today you enter the priory from the west end, where the grand entrance would have stood.  This entrance was reserved for ceremonial occasions.  The public would normally have entered via a stone porch on the north side of the nave, whereas the monks would have entered via one of two entrances opening into the south side.   Entering from the west end gives you an excellent view of the church.  In front of you are the bases of piers (multi-shafted columns), flanked by twin side aisles.

Next, you see two tall opposing stone constructions to left and right, the north and south transepts.  Looking beyond the transepts, the church continues with a vast east end, with what would have been the choir, the presbytery and high altar and probably the shrine of st Mildeburge.  Beyond this, in the 14th century, a small Lady Chapel was added. Although some publications refer to a “traditional cruciform shape,” referring to the cross-shape created by the east end, the west end and protruding transepts, most monastic churches have an east end much shorter than the nave, giving it more of the shape of the crucifix; the church at Wenlock is therefore not entirely traditional.

Chapter House

The nave of the church makes up the north wall of the main cloister, which lies to its south, so if you look to your right, you will see an archway leading through to the cloister.  Buildings further along the line of the church, also to the right, are buildings that were built after the main cloister was established, including the infirmary and the prior’s lodging.

I started with a walk from one end of the church to the other, taking in both transepts, came back to the main cloister and then later went and had a look at the remains of the secondary cloister.  I’ve used that visiting order in the description below.

 

The Church

A multi-phase construction

The location, next to Farley Brook, which runs into the Severn four miles to the south, was important for supplying water to the fish ponds and for the monastery’s own water supply and drainage system.   The Anglo-Saxon church seems to have formed the foundations for Roger de Montgomery’s 1180 monastic church, after which a number of phases of construction can be identified.

The plan of Wenlock Priory. Source: McNeill 2020, English Heritage

The West End – the Nave, the Porch and the Upper Chamber

Entering from the west, you are following the approximate approach of the monks through their grand entrance, used only on special days of the religious calendar and for processions.  The long 8-bay nave with its octagonal plinths, probably built during the mid-13th century, was used by visitors to the priory and provided a suitably impression processional space.  Along the north wall, midway between the entrance and the crypt, was a porch that gave public access to the nave (the bottom courses of which mark its position), whilst the monks would usually enter from the cloister.  The nave was divided from the crossing and the east end presbytery, which were confined to the monks, by a stone screen that no longer remains.

One of the pier bases in the nave of the priory church at the west end of the church, with the garth on the other sideof the ruined wall, the cloister visible to the left

A very unusual architectural feature is found at the south side of the nave next to the west entrance.  A chamber sits over part of the south aisle, which is particularly low to accommodate the chamber above.  It is not recorded what this chamber was for, and although there are several ideas about its possible use, there is nothing to help choose between them.  The chamber is not open to the public.

The Upper Chamber, seen from the Cloister

Medieval tiles gathered together from around the site in the south aisle of the west transept.

Medieval tiles

 

The 3-storey Transepts and the Crypt

Flanking the crossing were two transepts, which give the priory its cruciform appearance.  These were used for chapels on the ground floor, where masses were held for the deceased.  There were three chapels in each transept.

The south transept

South Transept

The best preserved of the two transepts is the south transept, which was built in the 1230s and retains some attractive features of the 13th century church.  The archers are supported on massive columns, each consisting of eight vertical shafts, themselves supported on plinths.  The side walls seem massive and the reason is that above the level of the chapel arches they contained an internal passage, the triforium, and supported windows above, the clerestory, which allowed light into the south transept.  The end wall at the south has two decorative blind arches.

The west wall has one of the special features of the priory:  a set of narrow, pointed blind arches with two tiny blind arches between them, to hold candles.  A channel carved into the stone of the central arch indicates that this once held a water pipe, and was probably used as part of the monks’ ritual cleansing prior to liturgies.

Unique feature in the west wall of the south transept

The north transept

Opposite the south transept, the north transept is less well preserved, but reflects the south transept.  One of the chapels was excavated and revealed a skeleton accompanied by a ceramic chalice, thought to have been a medieval monk.

The crypt and possible sacristy

In the west wall there is a blocked entrance that once opened into a two-storey building, the remains of which can still be seen.  The upper level shares a wall with the south transept and retains three arched recesses, possibly the sacristy. The lower level of was a vaulted crypt whose function remains unknown.

The possible sacristy, backing on to the north transept

The crypt below the possible sacristy

The East End, the Treasury and the Lady Chapel

By 1320 the church was 105m long.  Divided from the west end of the church by a stone screen, the holy east end consists of 7 bays and was confined to the monks, and was where the high altar was located and where liturgies, masses for the souls of the dead and the Eucharist were performed.  Behind the high altar it is thought that the shrine of St Milburga was probably retained.  All that remains of the east end are the lowest tiers of wall and the plinths for the piers, but these manage to contribute to the sense of the sheer scale of the church as you look from one end to the other.

The Treasury

Just to the south of the presbytery was a seven-sided building now referred to as The Treasury, which is thought to have been built in the 15th century and was probably used to store valuable ritual items associated with special days in the religious calendar and the associated processions.

The Lady Chapel was a particular feature of 13th century churches when dedication to the Virgin Mary became an important feature of Christianity, and was frequently a somewhat untidy bolt-on to an existing arrangement.  This is the case at Wenlock, where a small protrusion was added to the east end.

The Main Cloister

The Garth with the walkway and lavabo

Lavabo in the foreground, looking towards the south transept and the Upper Chamber

The garth, the central green around which the main cloister walkway (which does not survive) and the cloister buildings were arranged would have been the centre of the most important part of the priory in the medieval period.  It could have served as a herb garden or as a peaceful area for contemplation. One of the oddities about the layout of the cloister at Wenlock, which is easier to see on the plan that it is on the ground, is that it is not a perfect square or rectangle.  The refectory cuts across the south end of the garth at a distinct angle, which is out of keeping with the line of the church or with the other two ranges that make up the cloister buildings.

 

Artist’s reconstruction of the lavabo. Source: information board at Wenlock Priory

Today the main feature of the garth that survives in ruined form, but was once a magnificent feature unparalleled in England, is the late 12th century lavabo.  Its remains were found during the 19th century, and although only a few elements were preserved intact, they give a good idea of how the lavabo would have appeared.  It consisted of a fountain arrangement of two upper bowls and a lower basin all of which sat within an arched octagonal structure.  It was decorated with carved panels whoing religious themes, two of which are now in the Much Wenlock Museum.  This is where the monks washed before eating.

The garth’s modern topiary bushes were established in the 19th century.  Opinion is divided about whether this is a positive addition or not, but it has become a component part of the site’s history.

Lavabo carving of Christ with St Peter and St Andrew on the Sea of Galilee. Source: English Heritage

The covered walkway, with open arches that offered light and views of the garth, provided a link between all the cloister buildings that formed the heart of the monastic establishment, where most of the monks spent most of their lives. The walkway no longer survives.  On three sides of the cloister, these are referred to as ranges.  Part of the church nave made up the fourth side.

The East Range

The magnificent Chapter House

The Chapter House, dating from the 12th century, is the jewel in the crown of the abbey.  Considerable investment was usually made in any order’s chapter house, where the community met daily to discuss the business of the monastery, but Cluniac chapter houses are characterized by their particularly elaborate architectural detail, which would have been picked out in full colour.  The blind arcading, a decorative feature emulating window arches, is particularly characteristic of Cluniac sites, although it appears in the architecture of other orders too.  Philip Wilkinson suggests that it was probably “one of the most magnificent rooms in Norman England” (p.35).

Entrance to the chapter house from the cloister

The Chapter House

Blind arcading in the Chapter House

Decorative features in the Chapter House

Romanesque lintel over blocked door in the Chapter House, probably moved here from a different part of the abbey

Decorative touches in the Chapter House

Imaginative reconstruction of how the Chapter House, with its painted arcading, might have looked. Source: English Heritage. See video at the end of the post.

The library with medieval floor tiles

The library on the left, with the Chapter House to its right

Although many monasteries had a book cupboard, the book room at Wenlcock is particularly generous.  The library dates to the 13th century, as does the central arch, but the other arches were added later.  Thanks to pigeons, it has been necessary to put up netting to protect this space, but this also protects the tiles from other general wear and tear.

13th century tiles from around the site have been gathered together here, and laid down at random in order both to preserve them under a roof, and to display them to advantage.  There are also two tombstones, also moved here from elsewhere, but their owners have not been identified.

Medieval tiles and tombstone, seen through netting that protects the tiles from pigeons

The South Range – the refectory

The south range was entirely taken up by the refectory, although only one wall survives.  Sometimes refectories were built perpendicular to the cloister to allow inclusion of other buildings, but others were like this one, running along the side of the cloister with room at each end for a kitchen and a warming house (the latter a small heated room where the monks could spend a little time to warm through during harsh winters).  An oddity is that the line of the refectory runs at an angle (see site plan above), meaning that the garth is not the conventional square or rectangle.

The West Range

The west range, which has now been lost, was used differently from one monastery to another, and could have been used for storage, for visitors, including pilgrims, and could also have been used as the prior’s quarters before a large dedicated building was completed in the 15th century to house the prior and infirmerer.

 

The Secondary Cloister and beyond

All of the extant buildings that make up the remaining secondary cloister are off-limits to the public, having been sold off after the Dissolution closed it in 1540 but the exterior of the infirmary and prior’s lodging ranges are visible from the east end of the church.  These are considerably modified from their 13th century origins, but are in the original positions of those buildings.  Both are now part of a private residence.

Once the main cloister had been built in stone, further wooden buildings could be replaced by new stone versions.  At Wenlock a secondary cloister was made up by another four ranges.  On the north side was the Infirmary  and the Infirmarer’s lodging.  On the east side was a chapel and the prior’s lodging, the latrines were on the south side and on the west was the continuation of the dormitory that also overlapped with the main cloister as part of the latter’s east range.

At the end of the monks’ dormitory was also a non-standard building that is now known as the Chamber Block and Hall.  The role of this is speculative but it is thought that it may have been reserved for high status visitors like the king, who is known to have visited the priory six times during his reign.

Further to the south and southwest there would also have been subsidiary service buildings including the brewery, bakery, stores and the buildings of the home farm.

Final Comments

It is fairly unusual to have so much of the original site plan preserved in the remaining architecture, even where this only survives as a few courses of stonework.  Wenlock Priory gives a much better idea of the complexity of well-endowed monastic establishments that many others around the country.  In addition, the extravagance of the Cluniac Order is clearly visible in both the size and the architectural detail of Wenlock Priory.

At the same time, much of the understanding of Wenlock Priory and its Early Medieval predecessor comes from excavations, which were carried out in 1901, the early 1960s and during the 1980s, and these findings survive mainly in the form of excavation reports.

This mixture of what can be observed on the ground and what derives from excavations is typical of medieval monastic sites.

 

Visiting

Entrance to the cloister

The Wenlock Priory is an attractive site beautifully maintained by English Heritage.  The former Prior’s Lodging and the Infirmary are privately owned and cannot be visited but are but visible from the English Heritage site.  There is a large car park. Details of ticket prices and parking fees are on the English Heritage website.  The most recent version of the English Heritage guidebook (by John McNeill, 2020) has some excellent site plans, an artist’s reconstruction and photographs, available from the nice little gift shop, but also available through online retailers if you want to read up the full details in advance of a visit.  The site is mainly all the level, and should be fully suitable for those with unwilliing legs. with a wary eye out for underfoot masonry.

Its postcode is TF13 6HS.  Don’t forget to check the opening days and times of the Much Wenlock Museum, which is a separate entity, and located within the village itself.

The site is near to other attractions, making it a great visit for a day out.  I visited Haughmond Abbey (built by Augustinian monks) and Wroxeter Roman City (posted about here) on the same day, and Ironbridge Gorge is a short drive away (although Ironbridge and its museums, posted about here, really take up a whole day in their own right).  For those with time on their hands, a nice-looking walk in reasonable weather, recommended by English Heritage, takes you from Much Wenlock to the Ironbridge.

 

Sources

Books and papers

Wenlock Priory 1798 by R. Paddey. Source: Government Art Collection

Angold, M.J., George C. Baugh, Marjorie M. Chibnall, D.C. Cox, D.T.W.Price, Margaret Tomlinson, B.S. Trinder 1973, ‘Houses of Cluniac monks: Abbey, later Priory, of Wenlock‘, in A History of the County of Shropshire: Volume 2, ed. A T Gaydon, R B Pugh (London, 1973), British History Online
https://www.british-history.ac.uk/vch/salop/vol2/pp38-47

Burton, Janet 1994. Monastic and Religious Orders in Britain. Cambridge University Press

McNeill, John 2020. Wenlock Priory. English Heritage

Pinnell, Julie 1999. Wenlock Priory. English Heritage

Platt, Colin 1995 (2nd edition). The Abbeys and Priories of Medieval England.  Chancellor Press

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

Wilkinson, Philip 2006.  England’s Abbeys. Monastic Buildings and Culture. English Heritage

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Websites

English Heritage
Wenlock Priory
https://www.english-heritage.org.uk/visit/places/wenlock-priory/
Walk: Wenlock Priory to the Iron Bridge Shropshire (4.5 miles/7.5km (2-3 hours walking, plus time to visit the properties)
https://www.english-heritage.org.uk/siteassets/home/members-area/exclusive-content/your-exclusive-content/walking-page-dec-20/wenlock-priory-to–the-iron-bridge-shropshire-v2.pdf
St Milburga
https://www.english-heritage.org.uk/visit/places/wenlock-priory/history/st-milburga/

Historic England
Wenlock Priory
https://historicengland.org.uk/listing/the-list/list-entry/1004779?section=official-list-entry

 

 

Day Trip: Misericords and other choir carvings at St Bartholomew’s, Tong, Shropshire

Introduction

This time last year I wrote a short 3-part series about misericords in the Chester-Wrexham area, at St Werburgh’s Abbey (now Chester Cathedral), St Andrew’s Church in Bebbington and All Saints in Gresford.  These are all terrific examples of misericords, in really excellent architectural contexts.  On my way back from a short break in Shropshire in October I passed Tong, which I have been meaning to visit for years, so dropped in. Tong is on the A41, just where the road meets the M54, and the church, St Bartholomew’s is literally a couple of seconds off the A41.  It is about an hour’s drive from the Chester area.  It’s a very small, pretty village, and the collegiate church seems disproportionately large, but there was an inhabited castle here, and it was well used in both medieval and Tudor times. The unusual name Tong appears in Domesday as “Tuange.”  Although there is no consensus on the subject, it may derive from a word meaning “fork in the river,” referring to a meeting place of two streams near the former castle.

Lady Isobel and Sir Fulke Pembrugge. Lady Isobel founded the church in 1409 on the death of her husband.

St Bartholomew’s is thought to have been the third church on the site.  It was built by Royal License from 1409, the year of the death of crusader Sir Fulke de Pembrugge, by Lady Isabel Pembrugge, his second wife. It was finished by about 1430.  Lady Isabel established it as a collegiate church, meaning that as well as the church there was a separate building that housed a small community of secular (non-monastic) priests.  There were five at Tong, plus one or two clerks, who were employed to say masses for the soul of Sir Fulke de Pembrugge, in order to reduce his time in Purgatory, as well as prayers for other deceased souls.  The priests also ran a school for village children and a hospital for the elderly and sick, slight ruins of which still survive.  Both Sir Fulke and Lady Isabel are buried in the church in an elaborate tomb, shown above.

The style of the church is Perpendicular Gothic, with the Golden Chapel added 100 years later as an extension in 1510.  It is possible that the arcading in the south side of the nave dated to an earlier, perhaps 13th century church, because the style is different, and could have been incorporated into the new church.  Quite unusually, there are no projecting transepts, so the footprint of the church is not cruciform.  An original porch projects from the nave, whilst on the opposite side a large vestry projects from the chancel.  The rest of the church and its history will be discussed on a future post.

Misericords are “mercy seats,” first employed in monastic establishments, and carved onto the underside of hinged seats in choir stalls.  When the seat is down, it can be sat on as normal, but when leaning up against the back of the choir stall it has a little protrusion on which a monk or nun could prop themselves during some of the long daily offices that were typical of monastic and collegiate life.  Many of these feature elaborate carved decoration.  The earliest ones in Britain were carved in monasteries in the 13th century, and later on they found their way into collegiate establishments, cathedrals and, later still, parish churches.  Whether in monastery, cathedral or church, they could include a variety of subjects, religious, classical, pagan, chivalric and naturalistic.  You can read much more about them on my introductory post on the subject here and my round-up post here, looking at 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.
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The misericords at St Bartholomew’s, Tong

The stone elements of the St Bartholomew’s choir, including the piscina (shallow basin used for cleaning communion and other vessels) in the sanctuary or chancel and sedilia (stone seat), also in the sanctuary all date to between 1410 and 1430.  The oak choir stalls would have been inserted only after the stonework had been completed, probably towards the end of the 1420s.

There are two sets of L-shaped eight choir stalls, facing each other with the entrance to the choir separating them.  Originally each would have had a misericord and today there is only apparently one missing, with no subsequent replacements, with only some slight restoration work carried out.  There are also with three-light traceried back panels, carved frieze, and desks, as well as carved bench ends, desk ends and carved poppy-heads, all dating to the early 15th century.  The published guide to St Bartholomew’s adds that one of the bench-ends seems to be a much simpler and less skilled example, and was probably a later replacement for one that was damaged.

Most of the misericords are botanical, but there are other themes, some of them natural and some of them apparently pagan, such as the face above.  Pagan faces, or grotesques, are not unusual, but although they are often difficult to interpret. Two show winged angels, one apparently in armour holding a shield, the other holding a book or coat of arms, and another apparently depicts a castle.  These may be references to the family who built the church.  Sir Fulke de Pembrugge, for example, was a crusader, and the family lived in the nearby castle.

 

It is sod’s law that the last of the misericords shown above is the one most discussed in books and is the one that I took three attempts to photograph and still came out dismally.  This is the only one that represents a specific scene: the New Testament story of the Annunciation.  In the middle is a lily growing in a vessel with two blooms and, at its centre, Christ on the cross. This arrangement is flanked on one side by the Angel Gabriel and on the other by the Virgin Mary, each of whom hold pieces of a scroll that records the Angel’s greeting and Mary’s reply.  The supporters may either represent doves of peace or the Holy Spirit.

 

Details of poppy heads (on the tops of bench ends and desk ends). Click to enlarge

There are numerous churches in the Midlands that could have provided the general idea for misericords at St Bartholomew’s.  For a list of misericords elsewhere in the Midlands see Misericords of Midlands Churches page on the misericords.co.uk website.  It is probable that many other misericords were lost when Henry VIII dissolved the monasteries.

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Visiting

Check the St Bartholomew’s Church website for up-to-date opening hours and events that may close it to the public, but at the time of writing it is open daily, and in the summer months runs heritage tours that do not need to be booked in advance.  The church’s post code is TF11 8PW but Tong is almost impossible to miss, just seconds away from the A41 immediately before the M54 roundabout.

When there are no events, it is easy to park on the quiet road outside the church.

There is absolutely tons to see at the church, which is a feast for the eyes.  The 1515 Golden Chapel alone is a remarkable thing with its fan vaulting, but the many other early Tudor monuments are also spectacular.  See the church’s Heritage links on the above site to explore what it has to offer the visitor.  There is also a guide book that you can purchase at the church for £2.00 (cash into an honesty box), at the time of writing, which is great value with excellent photographs and good explanatory text, although it skims over the choir carvings.

If you want to make a day trip of it, nearby is the marvelous RAF Museum at Cosford, around 10 minutes away, and the the small but attractive White Ladies Augustinian Priory, also around 10 minutes away. 

 

Sources

See the end of Part 3 of my original series on misericords for sources on the general subject of medieval misericords.

The St Bartholemew’s misericords are referenced in the following works:

Books and papers

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

Anon, 2002. St Bartholomew’s Church, Tong, Shropshire. ISBN 1 872665 59 4.
(Almost no information about the misericords but some background information about the medieval church, to which the misericords date)

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

Websites

St Bartholomew’s Church, Tong
https://tong-church.org.uk/
History (very top-level)
https://tong-church.org.uk/history/
Tong’s timeline
https://tong-church.org.uk/tong-parish/timeline/

Historic England
Church of St Bartholomew
https://historicengland.org.uk/listing/the-list/list-entry/1053606?section=official-list-entry

The Medieval Bestiary
Excerpts from Francis Bond, Wood Carvings in English Churches: Misericords (pages 208-214). This text is believed to be in the public domain.  CHAPTER XVII: ON THE USE OF MISERICORDS – NOMENCLATURE
https://bestiary.ca/prisources/pstexts4837.htm

misericords.co.uk
Home page
https://misericords.co.uk/

 

 

Overleigh Cemetery Self-Guided Geodiversity Tour

Many, many thanks to Paul Woods (Chester Green Badge Guide who leads the cemetery tour Stories in Stone) for sending me the scans of this leaflet by Cheshire RIGS and the Northwest Geodiversity Partnership, apparently published in 2012.  It looks at the most common types of stone used, gives some geological details about it, and discusses how some of it responds to environmental conditions.  I’ve shared the JPEGs below but I have also turned it into a PDF that you can download by clicking here.  I cannot wait to take it for a test drive!

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.

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

A visit to Basingwerk Abbey, Holywell

Introduction

The Chuch is at left, the Chapter House opposite and the ground floor monks’ day parlour whcih once had their dormitory overhead. The line of the cloister, a covered walkway with arcades, and the central garth are marked out by the stone foundations

I have been to Basingwerk Abbey a couple of times, but never got around to writing it up.  It’s a super site, and although it is now a ruin, it retains enough of its original structures to ensure that its layout is easily understood.  St Winifred’s Well, with its lovely late gothic shrine, is only a mile and a bit away, and an important part of Basingwerk’s property for most of its life, will be covered on another post.

Basingwerk Abbey is only a  few miles away from Flint Castle.  The abbey preceded the castle by over a century but when Edward I founded Flint Castle and its accompanying town in 1277, the histories of abbey and castle became entwined. A visit to the abbey is easily combined with a look-in at the attractive riverside remains of Flint Castle.  I have written about the history of Flint Castle on an earlier post.

Digital Aerial Photograph of Basingwerk Abbey. AP_2009_2896 – s, Archive Number
6355272. Source: Coflein

Savignacs and Cistercian Basingwerk Abbey

Remains of the church

The first Basingwerk abbey, dedicated to St Mary, was founded as a Savignac monastery Ranulf II (Ranulf de Gernons) (1099–1153), fourth earl of Chester and later merged with the Cistercian order. It is not known why the Savignac order was chosen by Ranulf, but the monks who were sent to Basingwerk were provided directly by the founding monastery of Savigny in southwest Normandy itself. It became Cistercian in 1147.  Most of the monks who served there subsequently, up until the 15th century, were English, aliens in territory that was a bone of contention between England and Wales.

A monastic order is formed of a shared set of spiritual ideals, often spelled out in considerable detail in rules that covered everything from how many times a day a monk should pray, communally or individually, to where and when they could speak, eat and sleep, and what work they should engage in. All orders involved, at least in theory, a degree of renunciation and isolation by communities of monks, but these ideals were eroded as the influence of monastic houses grew.  The trajectory of monastic history in Europe changed in the late 11th century and early 12th century with the establishment of the so-called reforming orders, who wanted a purer, less self-indulgent and more hard-working approach to cloistered living than other contemporary monastic institutions offered.  The reforming orders believed that the Rule of St Benedict, as it had been originally conceived and set down in the 6th Century Italy, was the key to recovering a holier and more disciplined approach to a communal life of worship. The Carthusian order was established in 1084, the Cistercian order in 1098, the Savignac order between 1109 and 1112.

12th Century links between Cistercian monasteries.Although Citeaux, the node for all Cistercian abbeys, established early new bases in France, it was Clairvaux under the lead of St Bernard that was responsible for the earliest new abbeys in Wales. Of these Whitland was the most important for the northward spread of monasticism. The green lines emanating from Savigny reflect the Savignac order, which merged with the Cistercians after only 20 years, in 1147. So although Basingwerk in the north and Neath in the south were founded as Savignac orders, after 1147 they were brought under the rule of the Cistercians at Citeaux.  Source: Evans, D.H. Evans 2008, Valle Crucis Abbey (Cadw).

In Wales one of the most successful of these orders was the Cistercian order, which left remains in north, mid and south Wales.  Valle Crucis in Llangollen is the nearest of the Cistercian abbeys to the Chester-Wrexham areas, established in 1201, and is discussed in a series of earlier posts, which begins here with Part 1.  The Savignac order is much less well represented throughout Britain, and the reason for this is that in 1147 it was amalgamated with the Cistercian order.  Basingwerk Abbey, established as a Savignac monastery, became Cistercian in that year.

Because of their similarities the Savignacs and Cistercians were a good match, but there were differences too, largely in terms of the constitutional framework and systems of accountability.  To ensure that these were understood after the fusion, Savignac monasteries were put under the supervision of an appropriately located and senior Cistercian order.  Basingwerk was put under authority of Buildwas Abbey in Shropshire, which had also originally been Savignac.  This was perfectly in keeping with the Cistercian hierarchical approach to monastic management with every new monastery answerable and accountable to a mother house.  The mother house for the entire order was Cîteaux, and Clairvaux was the mother abbey for Whitland in south Wales, which was established by monks from Clairvaux itself. Whitland in turn established other abbeys including Strata Marcella near Welshpool, and this abbey in turn established Valle Crucis.   This system created a network of houses that all linked back to the ultimate mother house at Cîteaux (Cistercium in Latin) in France, the founding monastery of the Cistercian order.  Every Cistercian abbot had to return from his abbey to Cîteaux every year for what was known as the General Chapter, a great conference of the Cistercian abbots. 

A more detailed history of monasticism, and the Cistercians in particular, is included in Part 1 of the series on Valle Crucis.

Cadw guardianship monument drawing of Basingwerk Abbey. Survey-plan. Cadw Ref. No. 216/9a4. Scale 1:192. Source: Coflein

The foundation and economic basis of Basingwerk Abbey at Holywell

Exterior of the refectory

The first Basingwerk Abbey was probably in wood, and was located at a different but nearby site possibly somewhere in the vicinity of Hên Blas in Coleshill, near a now-lost castle.  There is a reference to a fortification in the Annales Cambriae describing how, when Henry II advanced into Wales from Chester,  Owain Gwynedd prepared for the upcoming battle by digging a large ditch associated with a hastily built camp at a site called Dinas Basing.  It is thought that this was the castle known to have been in the area of Hên Blas, which lies on a ridge between two streams and overlooks the Dee estuary.  Excavations in the 1950s demonstrated the existence of a 12th century motte-and-bailey castle , which was flattened by Llewelyn the Great in the early 13th century, and was replaced with a defended courtyard with timber-framed buildings.

The central garth on a very moody day looking at the remains of the church. The tall upstanding ruin is the main remnant of the church at its east end. Photo taken from within the refectory

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

Detail of Map 12, page 91 in Williams 1990 showing Cistercian Lands in Wales, with those of Basingwerk marked in red. Click to enlarge.

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

Gelli Chapel, from Thomas Pennant’s 18th Century Tour in Wales. Source: National Library of Wales, via Wikipedia

Based on the work of D.H. Williams in his 1990 Atlas, Silvester and Hankinson 2015 list all the known Basingwerk granges, shown on the above map produced by Williams. These were supplemented in 2001 by Williams in 2001.  Apart from two properties in Derbyshire these are all concentrated in northeast Wales and the Wirral and include, in alphabetical order:  Baggechurch /Beggesburch Grange, Bagillt; Calcot; Gelli Grange, either at Gelli or Gelli Fawr; lands in Whitford and the adjacent parish of Cwm; the Lordship of Greenfield, alias Fulbrook, including lands of Merton Abbot and party of Holywell town; and Over Grange, Holywell (all in Flintshire).  Lands with uncertain boundaries have also been identified elsewhere in the area, including Mostyn, Wake, Flint and Gwersylt as well as transhumant pasture close to property belonging to Valle Crucis Abbey at Moelfre-fawr in Denbighshire, at Boch-y-rhaiadr and Gwernhefin. They also owned Lake Tegid at Bala.

Beyond Wales, there were also three granges on the Wirral: Caldy Grange (West Kirby), Thornton Grange and Lache Grange (known as “La Lith”), as well as the granges in Charlesworth at Glossop, their mos profitable property, and leased land in Chapel le Frith. 

Over Grange, Holywell. Source: Williams 1990, plate 39, page 120. No indication of when the photograph was taken.

Of this list, only two buildings seem to have survived into relatively recent times, the remnants of two granges.  A chapel at Gelli Fawr in Whitford (Flints), apparently once belonging to Basingwerk Abbey was recorded in  a late 18th-century drawing which suggests that the chapel was part of a larger building complex. More can be found about the building and its possible function it in Silvester and Hankinson 2015.  Another grange, Over Grange, was listed by Cadw in 1991, according to Silverster and Hankinson, and was located located to the southwest of the modern farm house, and has been much-altered.  The photograph below shows it with small cross over the gable.

The Coflein website says that it is believed that Basingwerk Abbey originally constructed a windmill on this site, but the present structure probably dates to the late18 or early 19th century.  Now restored. Source: Coflein 804658 – NMR Site Files. Archive Number 6259181

To support its farming activities, the monastery built watermills, windmills and fulling mills.  Abbot Thomas Pennant (abbot from 1481 to 1522) appears to have been particularly active in the building of mills.  Records indicate that there were at least four windmills, at least three watermills, and at least two fulling mills, as well as a tithe barn in Coleshill.

The site of the Holywell windmill is thought to be preserved by the surviving windmill that can be seen today, shown right.  Two of the windmills were on the Wirral. Rowan Patel’s research has found that the Basingwerk windmill that stood at West Kirby area had been established at around 1152, and was probably upgraded and even replaced several times.  It stood on a high spot near the coast, an ideally windy location, and eventually featured on sea charts as a major landmark for coastal navigation.   It was mentioned in Henry VIII’s Valor Ecclesiasticus, the valuation of all monastic properties. Patel has found that after the Dissolution the mill became the property of the Crown and was rented to Thomas Coventree for an annual sum of 40s.  Rowan Patel’s research suggests that the second Basingwerk windmill was at Newbold, east of West Kirby, mentioned in the Taxatio of Pope Nicholas IV in 1291, where a Newbold windmill was referred to and valued at 40s a year.  Before the Dissolution it appears to have been rented out to Thomas Coyntre in 1525 on a 100 year lease at 40s a year.  By the time of the Dissolution, Thomas’s son Richard Coventry was apparently paying rent to the Crown, and in 1659 William Coventry, presumably a descendant of Richard’s, was still paying rent.  In 1664 it is next recorded having been sold to one Thomas Bennett in who donated it to the support of the poor.  Patel notes that in 1546 two men stole oats, barley and pease worth 10d, indicating the cereals proposed at the mill in the mid-16th century if not before.

Watermills continued to have a value well into the 20th century, and medieval mills will have been replaced over time, removing the visible remains of them, particularly along the valley that ran down the hill behind St Winifred’s Well and past Basingwerk before emptying into the Dee.

Economic Values excerpted from Williams 1990, map 21, p.105, showing the dominance of the agricultural contribution to the abbey’s income

Basingwerk had a large amount of livestock.  The hills and newly cleared meadows around Basingwerk were ideal for sheep in the uplands and cattle in river valleys and pastures.  The Welsh princes are also recorded as expecting two horses annually from Basingwerk which may indicate that the monks, like those of Cymer Abbey, were breeding horses.

As well as agriculture, which made up most of its income, Basingwerk was also involved in industrial activities, owning or leased industrial properties, Williams lists silver mining as a component of Basingwerk’s economic activities, and this is supported by Gerald of Wales whose trip through Wales in 1188 records leaving Conwy and heading east through Tegeingl through “a country rich in minerals of silver, where money is sought in the bowels of the earth” before spending the night at Basingwerk.  The abbey was also involved in the salt trade, with salt extraction enterprises in Northwich and possibly Middlewich.   Williams notes a coal mine leased from the Crown in Coleshill.  Lead was also mined at Basingwerk, probably making use of the same resources that had been exploited by the Romans in the area.

Economic resources excerpted from Williams 1990, map 22, p.105

Timber was taken from woodlands in Penllyn in Merionydd for housing, hedges, fuel and other requirements, as well as for sale.  Tenants were permitted to take a reasonable amount of firewood.  Assarting, the removal of woodland for conversion to agricultural land and other uses was a common activity in the middle ages.

Fishing probably made up a significant part of the diet, as it did at most Cistercian monasteries.  Basingwerk held the fishing rights for Lake Tegid at Bala, which it owned, and had a weir at West Kirby.  Prince Dafydd granted them one fifth of the catch at Rhuddlan in the 13th century.  They may also have purchased fish caught in the nearby coastal waters.

Basingwerk had a number of urban properties too, in Holywell, Flint, Chester, and Shrewsbury, which served as bases in town for the abbot and his representatives, which were probably loaned to friends of the monastery, but could also be leased out for additional income if required.  The Shrewsbury house was probably a legacy of the abbey’s connection with Buildwas Abbey after the amalgamation of the Cistercian and Savignac orders.

The fan vaulting in St Winifred’s Well at Holywell

A major feather in the financial cap of Basingwerk was St Winifred’s shrine with its beautiful natural spring.  The Holywell shrine of St Winifred was also another source of travelers requiring somewhere to stay and something to eat.  St Winifred’s shrine was granted in 1093 to St Werburgh’s Abbey in Chester, but was passed to Basingwerk in 1240, together with the living of Holywell church.  An abbey with a pilgrim shrine had a whole world of opportunities for income generation, and St Winifred’s was not only famous in its own right for its powers of healing and provision of miraculous cures, but was on the pilgrim trail to Bardsey Island at the end of the Llŷn peninsula and Ireland, via Anglesey.  In 1427 it was given a considerable boost when Pope Martin V granted indulgences for those visiting the shrine and giving alms to the chapel.  Indulgences rewarded certain behaviours, like pilgrimages, with a remission of sins, meaning less time in purgatory.  Royal visitors included King Henry V in around 1416 and Edward IV in 1461, helping to raise the profile of the shrine, which continues to welcome pilgrims today.  It became even more attractive from the late 15th – early 15th century when the shrine was provided with a spectacular gothic building that surrounded the spring.  I will cover Holywell in a separate post.

A traditional method of income acquisition for monasteries was appropriating a church and its income, sometimes to cover a particular expense, such as a major building project, and sometimes just to supplement income.  The Cistercians officially frowned on this practice, but the ban on appropriating church incomes did not survive very long.  Even so, Basingwerk had appropriated surprisingly few, just parish churches at Holywell, Glossop and a third at an unknown location, possibly to be identified with Abergele.

The fairs and markets granted to Basingwerk during Edward I’s reign in the 1290s are discussed below, and this must have been a considerable aid to their income.

Behind the monks’ day room and the dormitory above it was a block of buildings the function of which remains unclear. Suggestions include an extension of the abbot’s personal quarters, with rooms for special visitors, or a dedicated guest wing.

In spite of these various forms of income, Basingwerk sometimes found itself in financial stress. The monastery had been unable to provide a required payment to Edward III in 1346, and by way of explanation complained of the burdens of hospitality that came partly with being a Cistercian abbey, which put a great deal of emphasis on providing free hospitality, and partly from being near a major road, which had become increasingly busy after Edward I had moved forward into Wales, establishing market towns whose merchants moved between Wales and Chester for trade.  Even later in its history, in the late 15th/early 1gth century, it was reported that guests were so numerous that they had to take their meals in two sittings. Smith paints an evocative picture of other travelers in Wales who “cautiously flitted from one English settlement to the next, seeking safe overnight bases where food and shelter could be found “in a land in which rumors of insurrection abounded.” Basingwerk was by no means the only abbey to complain of this burden, which was a particular problem for Cistercian abbeys, but was shared by any monastic community that sat at a busy location.  Birkenhead Priory, which ran the ferry that allowed crossings between the Wirral and Lancashire for access to Chester and beyond (and later Liverpool), found itself in real difficulties due to the requirement to supply hospitality for ferry users who might be stuck at the monastery for several nights in bad weather.

A rather more specific problem was the expectation by the Welsh princes to use the abbey’s Boch-y-rhaiadr range for its annual hunting expeditions, during which the abbey was expected to provide bread, butter, cheese and fish for a hunting party of 300, expanding to 500, with money due in lieu when hunting did not take place.  This was abolished by Edward I after his conquest of Wales.

The Cistercian monasteries in Wales were not exempt from all taxes, or subsidies, and some of the abbots and their community were employed as tax collectors.  Other occasional charges were made on the abbey, such as a demand for financial contributions towards the marriage of Edward III’s sister.  Basingwerk provided £5 in 1333.

The abbey, being so active in economic production in the Holywell-Flint areas, was responsible for the management of its lands and the personnel who managed and worked the land, but was also required to function in a judicial role, its courts administering justice and meting out punishments.  Lekai says that the monastery had “a pillory, tumbrel and other instruments of punishment, although the penalty most often inflicted was a fine.”

The church is on the left and the two arches of the chapter house at right,.  All the buildings were arranged around the central green area, the garth. The stone foundations for the covered and arcaded walkway survive.

Most of the Cistercian abbeys in Wales, at one time or another, had a diplomatic role acting as intermediaries between the Welsh princes and the Crown, acting for either side, a role that was in their political interests to accept.  For example In 1241 Henry III used the Lache grange for a conference between himself and Prince Dafydd’s clerk.  In 1246 Henry III chose the abbot of Basingwerk to escort Prince Dafydd’s wife Isabella from Dyserth Castle to Godstow nunnery near Oxford.  A decade later, Prince Llywelyn ap Gruffyd used an abbot of Basingwerk to carry a letter to Henry III.

In 1291 the Taxatio Ecclesiastica of Pope Nicholas IV valued Basingwerk at £68 8s 0d, gross value (compared with Valle Crucis at £91 8s 0d, and Margam  at £255 27s 4½d).  In 1346 it claimed that its lands were sterile, and it went through some bad years, but in spite of the rebellion of Owain Glyn Dŵr in the early 1400s and a very troublesome period when a monk took the abbacy without being legally elected in the first half of the 15th century, with a similar problem in the later 15th century, the appointment of Thomas Pennant in the early 16th century seems to have turned things around.  In 1535, Henry VIII’s Valor Ecclesiasticus valued the monastery at £157 15s 2d.  Margam by this time was valued at £188 14s 0d, and Valle Crucis £214 3s 5d.
——

The layout of the monastery

Plan of Basingwerk Abbey. Source: Robinson, D. M., 2006. Basingwerk Abbey (Cadw).

The remains of the monastery conform to a standardized layout favoured by all the orders that followed the rule of St Benedict, clearly shown on the Cadw plan to the right, which helpfully colour-codes the dates for each part of the building. Few parts of the 12th century abbey are left.  Most date to the early 13th century, but the monk’s refectory was built in the mid-13th century.  Much of the abbey was rebuilt in the 13th century, which was not unusual when, for example, a new abbot might want to make a mark, but in this case it is possible that much of not most of it was done due to damage inflicted during the wars between the English and the Welsh, when Edward paid compensation to the abbey to enable it to carry out repairs, about which more below.

The cloister arcade was apparently remodelled in the late 14th century.  In the late 15th century Abbot Thomas Pennant carried out building work not only at the abbey but also at the shrine of St Winifred just up the road in Holywell.  There are various aspects of the site where both date and function remain unclear.  The western range, opposite the chapter house, would have been part of the original layout, used to house the lay brethren, discussed below, but may have gone out of use if a new use for them could be found when the lay brethren were no long featured in the community.  Although the above plan shows that the possible guest accommodation is undated, timbers from fire damage Basingwerk were saved for future analysis and tree-ring dating shows that the felling-date of the crown-post truss was c. 1385.  This is one of the earliest Welsh tree-ring dated.  The dating was commissioned by Cadw.

The church is at left, the chapter house to its right, the day room and the windows of the first floor dormitory next, and set to the far right is the refectory

Although every monastery differed in some aspects, the basic template of buildings surrounding a central square area, a garth (green area) with surrounding walkway (the cloisters) with the monastic church making up one side, was a universal arrangement.  The church was usually on the north side, as it was here, and often included two chapels in the transepts that flanked the crossing area where the choir was located.  Some churches featured towers either above the crossing or at one end.  The other buildings usually included a chapter house (the important monastic meeting room), day room with a dormitory on its first floor, a refectory, and sometimes an undercroft for storage. with an external door leading into the cloister on one side and the monastic precinct beyond. A sacristy was usually attached to the church, sandwiched between the church and the chapter house, which is how matters were arranged at both Basingwerk and Valle Crucis.  The cloisters were usually supplied with desks (called carrels) along the exterior wall of the church  where the monks could study and write.

The precinct, in which this arrangement of buildings sat, could include other structures like farm buildings, and visitor accommodation and often included a gatehouse, the whole surrounded by some form of boundary.  A key feature of Cistercian monasteries was good drainage, which supplied the kitchens and fish ponds, where present, and took away toilet waste, and various parts of the Basingwerk drainage system can be traced at the site.

Part of the abbey’s drainage system

Part of the abbey’s drainage system

The church, with its entrance at far left and the south transept at right

Many of these features can be found at Basingwerk.  The church is largely in ruins, but the layout is still visible in the very masonry walls that sit on the grass, including the columns that supported the roof and divided the church into a central nave with three aisles and seven bays, two side transepts each with a small transept and an eastern presbytery where the high altar would be located.  At around 50 metres in length the church would have been one of the smallest Cistercian churches in Wales. Only Cymer near Dolgellau is shorter, at just over 30m in length.  At the entrance to the presbytery a stone set into the floor may have supported a lectern.

What remains of the south transept, with the presbytery beyond

Basingwerk Abbey refectory wall

Opposite the former church, and one of the best preserved parts of the abbey, is south range with the refectory, which was built perpendicular to the cloister rather than lying along it on a north-south axis.  The refectory in Chester Cathedral, the former St Werburgh Abbey, was built along the length of the cloister, limiting its size, but the the refectory at Basingwerk as limited only by the size of the precinct.  This was probably a change introduced in the 13th century remodelling of much of the abbey, replacing a 12th century refectory that lay along the side of the cloister on an east-west axis.  It is a substantial building with many features preserved in its walls.  This includes the former entrance and stairway to the pulpit, now blocked off, from which religious texts would have been read during meals.  S series of tall windows would have let in a lot of light, and there was a hatch between the refectory and the kitchen for the convenient handing over of food, as well as a cupboard, which was apparently shelved, opposite.

The monks’ day parlour at ground floor level, with the dormitory on the first floor, the windows suggesting the original height of this building

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

The Chapter House

The sacristy to the left of the chapter house, with doorway leading into the church to the left.

Looking towards where the western range would have been located. The building beyond is now the café.

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


Edward I and Basingwerk Abbey

Plan of Flint Castle. Source: Coflein

When Edward I settled on his location for his new castle at Flint, Basingwerk Abbey was just a few miles west of the new site.  The monks of Basingwerk Abbey, which was established over 100 years earlier in 1132, must have wondered about the impact of the castle on their own security and their livelihood.  During the first few months of the castle construction process in the summer of 1277 Edward stayed near Basingwerk.  Edward saw himself as a religious man.  He had been on crusade, and had made a vow to establish a monastic house of his own, under the Cistercian order, and had selected a site for it in Cheshire.  Vale Royal Abbey was already underway in 1277 near Northwich, Edward having laid the first stone in early August.  It seems unlikely that Edward was not often a guest of the Basingwerk Cistercian Abbey during the building of Flint, which apart from being obliged under Cistercian rules to provide hospitality, was unlikely to reject a royal visitor.  Although Basingwerk had been founded by an English patron, Ranulf II it was probably more in tune with Welsh interests by the arrival of Edward.  Indeed, earlier in 1277 seven Cistercian abbots had written a letter to Pope Gregory X supporting Prince Llewellyn ap Gruffud against charges placed by the Bishop of St Asaph, although the abbot of Basingwerk was not amongst them.

Drainage at Basingwerk, from the refectory

Whatever their personal leanings, it would have been very much in the interests of the order for good relations to be maintained.  They may have offered advice about his plans for Vale Royal, and it is clear that some of the abbots in the Welsh-based monasteries, including Basingwerk, played an invaluable role as intermediaries between the Welsh and the English.  Fortunately for the monks at Basingwerk, Edward I chose the Cistercian abbey at Aberconwy for his headquarters, forcing that monastic community to eventually shift further south along the Conwy valley to a new home.

The monks of Basingwerk would have been less than astute, however, if they had not regarded the new castle with misgivings, and if they had concerns about being caught in the middle of a fight between Edward and Llywelyn, their worries would later be justified.  In the 1270s and 1280s the abbey suffered damage during the wars of Edward I, in spite of letters of protection issued to it in 1276,1278, and 1282 and in 1284 Edward granted £100 compensation to the monks after the army stole corn and cattle and the loss of workers who were abducted, presumably for labour.  An additional 132 4d was paid in damages to churches in Holywell.  Basingwerk was not the only abbey in the area to suffer and receive compensation.  Valle Crucis near Llangollen received a sum of £160.00, and nearby Aberconwy was occupied by Edward I’s forces and its monastic community was forced to move to a new home to the south, at Maenan.  Relations between the abbey and castle obviously continued to remain good, because when the castle was completed in 1280 a monk of Basingwerk was engaged as the chaplain to the royal garrison.

One of John Speed’s maps showing Flint Castle and town. The castle and town of Flint as mapped by John Speed in 1610, showing the original road layout and market place. Source: National Library of Wales

At Flint, Edward had established a Norman-style new town as part of his vision for colonizing various parts of Wales.  This was an English settlement, and any new burgesses prepared to live there was given numerous incentives.  In 1278 Edward granted it permission to hold weekly markets and an annual fair.  In 1292 he granted Basingwerk the same permissions for Holywell, having granted them permission to hold an annual fair at their Glossop manor in 1290.  The monks could charge market stall holders rent for the duration of the market, a nice source of income, as well as selling their own products.  Basingwerk, with its water mills, windmills and fulling mills and land under both grazing and grain, was certainly in a position to sell a number of products, including grain, livestock and livestock products including meat, skins and wool. Welsh wool was recognized as being of very high quality, sometimes superior to even that of the better known wool produced by the Yorkshire monastic producers.  The Taxatio ecclesiastica of Pope Nicholas IV in 1291 recorded that Basingwerk had 2000 sheep producing 10 sacks of wool, 53 cows (at a ratio of 37.1:1), and no goats. Even if it found itself in competition with Flint, Basingwerk’s fairs probably represented the opportunity to raise the abbey’s income.  Its industrial products, as well as some of its wool, may have been sold for export.

The 14th – 16th century

Burton and Stöber describe how by the mid 14th century there were reports that the abbey was in debt, and in the fifteenth century some of its abbots were a distinct liability:

in 1430 the house was seized by Henry Wirral, who made himself abbot, and the following year he was engaged in a legal dispute for the office with Richard Lee. Despite the court ruling in favour of Lee, Henry continued in power at Basingwerk until 1454 when he was arrested for various misdemeanours and deposed. Matters did not improve, for in the following decade Richard Kirby, monk of Aberconwy, disputed the abbacy with Edmund Thornbar. Although the General Chapter ordered that Edmund be recognized as abbot, Richard was still in office in 1476.

Manuscript by Gutan Owain, National Library of Wales, MS3026C. Source: The National Library of Wales

Fortunately the abbey’s fortunes improved under Welsh Abbot Thomas Pennant, who ruled the house for about forty years from around 1481 to 1523, although this was very much a last hurrah before Henry VIII dissolved the monasteries beginning in 1535. By the early 16th century Welsh bard Tudur Aled (died 1526) makes it clear that there was lead roofing and stained glass at the abbey.   Tudur Aled praised Abbot Thomas , commending his his learning but also his generosity, generally an indication that they were being sponsored by a given abbot, as at Valle Crucis.  Gutun Owain seems to have benefited from Basingwerk Abbey’s patronage.  Owain is notable for having addressed over fifteen poems to Cistercian abbots, and is known to have stayed as a guest at Valle Crucis and Strata Florida as well as Basingwerk.  Although the late fifteenth century manuscript known as the Black Book of Basingwerk (Llyfr Du Basing, now NLW MS 7006D, which was the mainly the work of Gutun Owain copied into a single volume) was probably held by Basingwerk at the time of the dissolution in around 1536, it is thought in fact to have been the work of copyist monks at Valle Crucis.

Thomas Pennant was not a man of undiluted virtue.  In an order where celibacy was required and monks were not permitted to marry, Pennant not only fathered a family, but his son Nicholas, became the last abbot of Basingwerk, which in theory was an act of simony banned by the order.  When the abbey closed, probably in 1536, with just three monks, Nicholas was the abbot.

St Mary on the Hill, Chester. Source: GENUKI

After the Dissolution every valuable object and piece of structural material was stripped for Henry VIII’s treasury.  James says that part of the timber ceiling is at Cilcain, and that stained glass can be found at Llanasa.  Burton and Stöber add that the choir stalls from the abbey were transferred to the church of St Mary on the Hill in Chester.  Lead from the roof was removed, and may have been used for the repair of Holt Castle on the Dee and Dublin Castle. Williams adds that it may have been employed also in other crown buildings in Dublin, and that it is possible that the wooden sedilia in the parish church of St Mary, Nercwys, was from Basingwerk.  There is a tradition that the Jesse window was reinstalled in the parish church of St Dyfriog (Llanrhaeadr-yng-Nghinmeirch) but this remains unconfirmed.

I have been unable to get access to St Mary on the Hill, a comprehensive history of which is on the Chesterwiki. It was decomissioned in 1972 and now describes itself as a Creative Space and venue for a range of activities.  However, the Chesterwiki site says that the fittings, presumably including the Basinwerk choir stalls, were removed after the church was decomissioned, although it does not say where these fittings went.

From the 18th century the site attracted artists who recorded features that are now lost.  In the early 20th century a large section of the south transept collapsed.  In 1923 the site was put in State guardianship and in 1984 it was put into the car of Cadw.

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

Final comments

The building that may be a guesthouse, has had burned timbers dendro-dated, which give the roof a date of c.1385. Source: RCAHMW Exhibitions: Dendrochronology Partnerships

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


Visitor Information

Find the captions and see the full-sized map at https://greenfieldvalley.com/greenfield-valley-zones/. There is an interactive version of the map at https://greenfieldvalley.com/explore/interactive-map/.

The site is free to visit.  There is no visitor information centre but a small modern shop sells guide books, postcards and souvenirs relating to Basingwerk, St Winifred’s Shrine and the Greenfield Valley Park. The abbey’s postcode is CH8 7GH and the car park is on Bagillt road, just to the west of the enormous railway bridge, opposite a small trade/industrial estate.

There is a big car park at the foot of the abbey, shown to the right left on the A548, just west of the enormous railway bridge, which has a fairly gentle metalled incline up to the abbey, with a bench and information map half way up.

There is also a café just outside the main gates, which in October 2022 was doing a good coffee and a splendid lunch.

Basingwerk Abbey is a component part of Greenfield Valley Park, and is popular with dog walkers and children, so if you want a quiet visit it is probably best to go on a weekday outside the holidays. The rest of Greenfield Valley Park is an excellent visit in its own right, with a remarkable amount of industrial archaeology within its borders, and plenty of interpretation boards.  I have posted about the industrial archaeology of the Green Valley Park here.

If you want to stay in the medieval period, St Winifred’s Well is about 1.5 miles through the park (shown as No.9 at the very top of the map right), or if you prefer to drive it has its own car park.  Flint Castle is only 4 or so miles down the A548 towards Chester, and makes for a great visit.  I wrote about the history of Flint Castle on an earlier post, Together, the three sites make a very fine medieval day.

Sources

Books and papers:

Burton, J. and Stöber, K. 2015.  Abbeys and Priories of Medieval Wales.  University of Wales Press.  https://www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctt9qhdvn.13

Davies, Paul R. 2021. Towers of Defiance. YLolfa

Elfyn Hughes, R., J. Dale, I. Ellis Williams and D. I. Rees. Studies in Sheep Population and Environment in the Mountains of North-West Wales I. The Status of the Sheep in the Mountains of North Wales Since Mediaeval Times. Journal of Applied Ecology , Apr., 1973, Vol. 10, No. 1 (Apr., 1973), p.113-132
https://www.jstor.org/stable/2404720

Evans D.H. 2008, Valle Crucis Abbey, Cadw

Knight, L. Stanley 1920. The Welsh monasteries and their claims for doing the education of later Medieval Wales. Archaeologia Cambrensis, 6th series, volume 2, 1920, p.257-276
https://journals.library.wales/view/4718179/4728984/314#?xywh=-63%2C345%2C2942%2C1730

Rhys, Ernest (ed.) 1908.  The Itinerary and Description of Wales with an introduction by W. Llewelyn Williams. Everyman’s Library. J.M. Dent and Co, London. and E.P. Dutton and Co (NY)
https://archive.org/details/itinerarythroug00girauoft

Huws, D. 2000.  Medieval welsh Manuscripts. University of Wales Press

James, M.R. 1925.  Abbeys. The Great Western Railway
https://archive.org/details/abbeys-great-western-railway

Jones, Owain, 2013. Historical writing in medieval Wales. PhD Thesis, University of Bangor.
https://research.bangor.ac.uk/portal/files/20577287/null&ved=2ahUKEwjxssbb0tvtAhWmxIsKHQgvBW0QFjAOegQICBAI&usg=AOvVaw2GbJiGy6Sl3SPiTX4K8RqZ

Lekai, Louis L. 1977. The Cistercians. Ideals and Reality. The Kent State University Press

Patel, Rowan 2016. The Windmills and Watermills of Wirral. A Historical Survey. Countyvise Ltd.

Robinson, D. M., 2006. Basingwerk Abbey. Cadw

Silvester, R.J., and Hankinson, R., 2015. The Monastic Granges of East Wales. The Scheduling Enhancement Programme: Welshpool. Clwyd-Powys Archaeological Trust (CPAT)
coflein.gov.uk/media/241/979/652240.pdf

Smith, Joshua Byron 2016. “Til þat he neӡed ful neghe into þe Norþe Walez”: Gawain’s Postcolonial Turn. The Chaucer Review, Vol.51, No.3 (2016), p.295-309
https://www.jstor.org/stable/10.5325/chaucerrev.51.3.0295

Williams, David H., 2001. The Welsh Cistercians, Gracewing

Williams, David H., 1990. Atlas of Cistercian Lands. University of Wales Press

Websites:

Coflein
Basingwerk Abbey
https://coflein.gov.uk/en/site/35649?term=basingwerk%20abbey%20holywell

Monastic Wales
Basingwerk Abbey
https://www.monasticwales.org/browsedb.php?func=showsite&siteID=24
Gutun Owain
https://www.monasticwales.org/person/72
The Black Book of Basingwerk
https://www.monasticwales.org/archive/24
Valle Crucis (Abbey)
https://www.monasticwales.org/browsedb.php?func=showsite&siteID=35

RCAHMW Exhibitions: Dendrochronology Partnerships
Bilingual exhibition panel entitled Partneriaethau Dendrocronoleg; Dendrochronolgy Partnerships, produced by RCAHMW 2013
https://coflein.gov.uk/media/200/524/rcex_026_01.pdf

RCAHMW List of Historic Placenames (searchable database)
https://historicplacenames.rcahmw.gov.uk/

University of Notre Dame
A Knight in St. Patrick’s Purgatory, by Haley Stewart. March 15, 2019
https://churchlifejournal.nd.edu/articles/a-knight-in-st-patricks-purgatory/

An Essay on Cistercian Liturgy by Dr Julie Kerr
Cistercians in Yorkshire, University of Sheffield
www.dhi.ac.uk/cistercians/cistercian_life/spirituality/Liturgy/Cistercian_liturgy.pdf 

 

The chapter house propped up during excavations when M.R. James visited in 1925.

Basingwerk Abbey from the South. 1929 postcard. Source: People’s Collection Wales

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!

A visit to the 12th century Birkenhead Priory #1 – The Medieval buildings

Introduction

The chapter house

Birkenhead Priory is one of the most enjoyably unexpected places I have visited in the region, even more surprising than a Roman bath-house embedded in a 1980s Prestatyn housing estate.  The priory site incorporates both the remains of the 12th century monastic establishment and the ruins of St Mary’s 1822 parish church with its surviving tower and terrific views.  On all sides the site is surrounded by both heavy and light industry.  Cammell Lairds shipyard not only butts up against the south and east walls, but purchased part of the priory’s former churchyard and cemetery for its expansion and the building of Princess Dock.  On the other sides are warehouses and commercial units.  The result is that in spite of the clanging and banging from the vast ship under construction immediately next door (fascinating in its own right), the obvious and somewhat inescapable cliché is that the ruins of the priory and parish church are an oasis of peace in the midst of all the busy activity.  The small but quiet stretches of grass, the trees and the wild flowers contained within the remains of the priory site are a treat, and the splendid views from the top of St Mary’s tower are a powerful reminder of how the world has changed since the foundation of the priory.

I have divided this post into two parts, because there is so much to say.  A visit to Birkenhead Priory is really five visits in one.  In chronological order, a visit to the site provides you with the following heritage:

  • 1) The priory, established in the 12th century and built of red sandstone, is the oldest part of the site and the star turn with its vaulted undercroft and chapter house
  • 2) St Mary’s parish church was built next to the ruins in 1821 to serve the growing community, its gothic revival windows wonderfully featuring cast iron window tracery
  • 3) The priory’s scriptorium over the Chapter House, now with wood paneling over the sandstone walls, is the exhibition area for the Friends of the training ship HMS Conway,
  • 4) The Cammell-Laird shipyard is hard up against the priory’s foundations and fabulously visible from St Mary’s Tower. When it wished to expand into the church’s churchyard, it purchased the land and re-located the burials
  • 5) St Mary’s Tower, which is open to the public with amazing views from the top, is now a memorial to the 1939 HMS Thetis submarine disaster in the Mersey.

In this part, part 1 I am taking a look at the priory.  In part 2 I have looked at the post-dissolution history of the site; the 1821 construction of St Mary’s parish church; the memorial to HMS Thetis and the display area for HMS Conway.  I will tackle Cammell Laird’s separately, as I suspect that it will be very difficult to handle in a single post, and I need to do a lot more research before I make the attempt to summarize its history.

Birkenhead in the foreground with the manor and ruins of the monastery, and Liverpool in the background over the river, c.1767, showing just how isolated Birkenhead remained even in the 18th century. Attributed to Charles Eyes. Source: ArtUK

Foundation of the priory in the 12th Century

Artist’s impression of the priory done by E.W. Cox by 1896.

The priory was dedicated to St Mary and St James the Great.  There are no documents surviving from the priory, and none of its priors became important in other areas of the church or in life beyond the priory, so most of the information comes from other sources of documentation as well as from the architecture itself. Its principal biographer, R. Stewart-Brown, writing in 1925, commented that it was “not possible to compile anything in any degree resembling a history of this small and obscure priory,” but the result of his work was an impressive overview of the priory, its financial stresses and its involvement in the Wirral as a whole and the Mersey ferry in particular.  Much recommended if you can get hold of it.  Although not certain, is thought that the priory was founded in the mid-12th century by one of William the Conqueror’s Norman followers who was rewarded for his service to the new king and the local earl Hugh Lupus with land on the Wirral.  His name was Hamon (sometimes Hamo) de Massey from Dunham Massey, the second baron, who died in 1185, suggesting that the priory was founded before this date, probably in the middle of the 12th century.

Exterior of the west range, showing the two big windows that illuminated the guest quarters, the one on the left heavily modified.

The priory was established on an isolated headland, surrounded on three sides by water.  Hamon almost certainly took as his model for the priory the abbey of St Werburgh in Chester (now Chester Cathedral) which was founded in 1093 by Hugh d’Avranches, also known as Hugh Lupus.  Hugh Lupus had convinced St Anselm of Bec (later Archbishop of Canterbury and after his death canonized) to come and establish St Werburgh’s, and it was organized along classic Benedictine lines, about which more below.  The founding of a monastic establishment was seen as a Christian act, a statement of piety and devotion, and was most importantly a precautionary investment in one’s afterlife, securing the prayers of the monks, considered amongst the closest to God, throughout the entire lifetime of the monastery

A priory was smaller and inferior in status to an abbey and was was often dependent (i.e. a subset) of an abbey, and answerable to it.  It is possible that the much larger and infinitely more prestigious St Werburgh’s Abbey in Chester supplied the monks to establish Birkenhead Piory, but there is no sign in the cartularies (formal documents and charters) of St Werburgh’s that there was any ongoing formal connection between the two.  The difference between a non-dependent priory and an abbey was usually that the priory did not have sufficient numbers to be classified as an abbey, or that it had not applied for the royal stamp of approval required for the more senior status of an abbey. The minimum requirement for the foundation of a Benedictine abbey was 12-13 monks.  A 16th century historian suggested that there were 16 monks, but it is by no means clear where this figure came from.  Twice during the 14th century it is recorded that there were only five monks at the priory, and it is very likely that the priory remained too small to become an abbey.

The typical monastic day in a Benedictine monastery. Not a great photo, but a very nice representation from a display in the museum area in the undercroft

The Benedictine Order was not the oldest of the monastic orders in Britain, but following the Norman Conquest it became the most widespread.  It was named for St Benedict of Nursia who, in the 6th century, set out a Rule, or set of guidelines, for his own monastery.  This spread widely and became the basis of many monastic establishments setting out to follow his example.  The Benedictines had been well established in France at the time of the Conquest, and sponsorship by incoming Normans, granted land by William the Conqueror, ensured that they spread rapidly in England, and later Wales, Scotland and Ireland.  Benedictine monasteries were all built to a standard architectural layout, with minor deviations, based on both religious and administrative requirements.

The monastic buildings

Plan of the Birkenhead Priory site.  Source: Metropolitan Borough of Wirral leaflet (with my annotations in colour). North is left, south right.

If you take the guided tour, which I sincerely recommend, you begin your tour in the undercroft, now used as a museum / display space.  Most helpfully it has a scale model of the priory with Stewart-Brown’s 1925 site plan, both of which help you to orientate yourself and get a sense of how the ruins were once a complex of buildings that defined and enabled a monastic community, combining religious, administrative, domestic and other functions.  In the plan on the left, with the surviving remains of the priory outlined in red, the site of the priory church outlined in orange and remains of the 1822 St Mary’s Church outlined in green. The blue margin indicates the shipyard over the priory wall.  The numbers on the plan are referred to in the description below.  You can download a copy of the map (without the coloured additions) as a PDF here.

Like St Werburgh’s Abbey, the priory buildings were made of locally available red sandstone.  Like all monasteries based on Benedictine lines, the monastic site plan began with a square.  The bigger the monastery envisaged, the bigger the square.  This was known as the garth (1 in the plan on the left), and was either a grassed area or a garden.  Surrounding this was the cloister, a covered walkway that served as a link between the buildings that were erected around the garth, and where desks were usually arranged so that the monks could work.  This was a secluded space, confined to the inmates of the monastery.

Model of the priory church and claustral buildings in the priory’s museum space in the undercroft showing a possible layout of the church.  The chapter in this view is hidden behind the tower.

The most conspicuous of the buildings would have been the one that no longer stands:  the church and its tower (4 on the plan above, outlined in orange), which made up one side of the cloister.  Traditionally in Benedictine complexes this was built on the north side of the garth, making up an entire side of the cloister, in order protect the rest of the buildings and allow light into the garth and the other cloister buildings, but at Birkenhead Priory’s church was on the south, possibly to protect the claustral buildings from the winds whistling down and across the Mersey. The model and plan show that the 13th century church was built in the standard cross-shape.  It featured a long nave at the west end (where the public were permitted to observe religious ceremonies), and a surprisingly long east end (where the ceremonies were performed) with two side-transepts, which were usually used as chapels for commemorating the dead and a tower over the crossing. A pair of aisles flanked the south and north transepts as show above.  When it was first built in the 12th century, the church would have been much smaller and probably smaller than this footprint.

View of Birkenhead Priory by Samuel and Nathan Buck in 1726, showing the remains of the church’s northern arcade.  Source: Panteek

Lonely remainder of the church’s northern arcade

The entrance to the chapter house with its Norman arches. You can clearly see the difference between the 12th century chapter house masonry and the 14th century scriptorium above with its gothic window and tracery. The tower in the background belongs to the 19th century church.

The chapter house (2) is the oldest of the Birkenhead Priory buildings, the only one remaining that dates to the 12th century.  The building of the priory church, being the place where the main business of praising God took place, was usually started straight away, but the chapter house was often built in tandem as this was also of fundamental importance to a monastery.  This is where the everyday business of the priory was attended to, from the day-to-day administration and disciplinary matters, to the daily readings of chapters of St Benedict’s Rules or other improving texts such as excerpts from one of the many histories of saints (hagiographies).  The Birkenhead Priory’s original medieval chapter house is a gorgeous. The vaulted roof of the chapter house is superb (see the photo at the very top of this post), and although the windows have been altered over time, one of the deep Norman Romanesque window embrasures survives, and is a thing of real beauty (see below).  The stained glass is all modern, but all are nicely done, the one over the altar by Sir Ninian Cowper combining religious themes relevant to the house (St Mary and St James flanking Jesus) with two prestigious characters from the priory’s own history (its founder Hamo de Massey and its two-time visitor Edward I).  Gravestones from the medieval cemetery have been incorporated into the floor around the post-Dissolution altar.  In the medieval priory, there would have been no altar in the chapter house, but following the Dissolution the chapter house was converted into a chapel and is still used for weddings, funerals and baptisms. 

Over the top of the chapter house, a scriptorium was added in the 14th century. In theory this was where the copying of books took place, but it has been pointed out that this was a particularly large space for such an activity, and it may have been used for something else, or for a number of different activities.  Today it is the display area for the training ship HMS Conway, and at some point in the 19th or early 20th century was provided with panelling and has some very fine modern stained glass by David Hillhouse.  This modern usage will be discussed in part 2.

Opposite the chapter house the remains of the west range (7-11) survives, which was again a two-floor building separated into a number of different spaces  It seems to have been divided into two, with the northern end and its big fireplace reserved for guests, and the southern end, with an entrance into the cloister, seems to have been split into two floors, with a fireplace on each, for the prior’s personal quarters, which would have included a private parlour that he could use for entertaining VIP guests.  Although it’s not the most aesthetically stunning of the surviving claustral buildings today, the stonework displays a fascinating patchwork of different features and alterations that reflect many changes and refinements in use over time and are still something of a fascinating puzzle.

West Range

Remodelling in the 14th century created the undercroft and the refectory above it, as well as the kitchen.  The undercroft (14), once used as a storage space, with the original floor intact. The investment in the lovely architecture may indicate that before it was used as a storage area, it had a more high profile role, perhaps as a dining area for guests.  Above it was the refectory, unlike St Werburgh’s, Basingwerk Abbey or Valle Crucis Abbey, all of which had refectories at ground level.  It was reached by a spiral stone staircase leads up to this space today.

The kitchen was apparently to the north of the west range, and connected to it, as shown on the above plan (12).  This was convenient for the guest quarters, but not quite as convenient for the refectory over the undercroft, from which it was divided by a buttery (or store-room, 13), over which a guest room was also installed.   The kitchen was apparently a stand-alone structure made mainly of timber, and this may have been because kitchen fires were so common, and building the kitchen slightly apart from the main monastery would have been a sensible precaution.  Kitchen fires are thought to have been the cause of several devastating scenes of destruction in monastic establishments, spreading quickly via roof timbers and wooden furnishings.

Between the chapter house and the north range, which contained the undercroft and refectory, was an infirmary (19 on the plan) and the dormitory (18) side by side, each accessible from the cloister.  The infirmary was for the benefit of the monks, and was where those who were sick or injured or suffering the impacts of old age were cared for.

Sources of income and financial difficulties

Carved head in the side of the fireplace in the guest quarters on the ground floor of the west range

Monasteries were amongst the most important land-owners in medieval Britain, on a par with the aristocracy.  Their income came mainly from agricultural activities, both crops and livestock, as well as making and selling bread, beer, buttery and honey; but they might also own mills, mines, quarries and fisheries and the rights to anchorage, foreshore finds and the use of boats on rivers. For those with coastal and estuary locations with foreshore rights, there was, as Stewart-Brown lists, the benefits of flotsam (items accidentally lost from a boat or ship, jetsam (items deliberately tossed overboard), salvage from shipwrecks and keel toll.  The luckier (or most strategically inclined) monasteries and churches also had pilgrim shrines, sometimes reliquaries imported from overseas. St John’s Church in Chester had a miraculous rood screen, St Werburgh’s Abbey in Chester had the shrine containing the bones of St Werburgh herself, and Basingwerk Abbey had the neighbouring holy well of St Winifred.  These attracted donations and bequests and were good for the settlements in which they stood, because the pilgrims needed places to stay, food and drink, and would probably buy souvenirs.  Birkenhead Priory had no such shrine, but it probably felt the impact of the pilgrim route as the ferry crossing over the Mersey, which it ran free of charge, was an important link between Lancashire, west Cheshire and northeast Wales.

Some of the monastic landholdings on the Wirral. Source: Gill Chitty, on Merseyside Archaeology Society website

The original foundation of the monastery would have included both the land on which the monastery sat, funding for building it, and an economic infrastructure of landholdings as well as the income of some local churches. The long list of land-holdings sounds impressive, but most of them appear to have been quite small and scattered, some of which will have been wooded and some wasteland, not all of it suitable for cultivation or pasture. These include lands in Birkhenhead (including the home farm in Claughton with its mill), Moreton (with a mill and dovecote), Tranmere, Higher Bebington, Bidston, Heswall, Upton, Backford, Saughall, Chester, Leftwich, Burnden at Great Lever in Middleton, Newsham in Walton, Melling in Halsall, and Oxton.  Either at foundation or not long afterwards, the priory was granted the incomes of the churches of Bidston, Backford, Davenham and half of the church of Wallasey, and claimed rights of Bowdon church that were disputed.

Carving at the base of a window arch in the west range

The monastery did not flourish with these assets.  In spite of the claim that there were 16 monks at the time of its foundation, the records made by official church visitors suggests there were only a small number of monks at any one time (only five in 1379, 1381, and 1469, and seven, including two novices, in 1518 and 1524), and there is plenty of evidence to indicate that the priory struggled financially.  Monasteries had significant overheads including feeding the community, buying tools and supplies, repairing monastic and farm buildings, appointing stewards and other employees, providing charitable alms and providing hospitality free of charge.  Where they earned incomes from churches and chapels, they were also responsible for the provision of the clergy and shared part of the cost of maintaining the buildings.  Ambitious priors often invested in building projects, sometimes to improve the monastic offering, sometimes for prestige, and even with donations this was usually costly.  There were also occasional challenges to bequests made to churches from following generations, which involved costly legal proceedings.  Balancing the books was a frequent problem for monastic establishments, and the priors of Birkenhead Priory were no different.

There were quite limited means by which the priors of Birkenhead might increase their income.  The most obvious way of generating ongoing income was to acquire more land through gifts and bequests.  In this endevour the priory probably had a real disadvantage in being near to both St Werburgh’s Abbey in Chester and, across the river Dee, Basingwerk Abbey at Holywell.  Both abbeys had significant land-holdings on the Wirral, and both had pilgrim shrines and were on pilgrim routes.  Both were large and prestigious, and were far more likely to attract big gifts than a small and rather remote priory.  If Birkenhead hoped to attract gifts of land, it probably had to depend on local landowners and merchants who felt a personal connection with the priory but would not necessarily have had the wherewithal to significantly change the income-earning potential of the priory, providing personal items rather than swathes of land. For these very local gifts and legacies, it is entirely possible that the priory was also in competition with contemporary parish churches on the Wirral.  There are records in the early 16th century, not long before the monastery was closed during the Dissolution, that give an idea of the sort of bequests made by local people in return for requiem masses to be recited for their souls:  one will provided a painting of the Crucifixion for the priory church.  Another bequeathed the owner’s best horse, 10 shillings, and a ring of gold.

As the Middle Ages progressed, populations expanded and both new and old towns began to hold markets where everyday goods and more prestigious products could be traded, even once-isolated monasteries found themselves becoming integrated into the secular world and in competition with it.  It certainly did not initially help the monks at first that during the early 13th century Liverpool began to grow.  Under the Benedictine rules, monasteries had an obligation to provide hospitality to visitors when required, and the Birkenhead monks ran the ferry over the Mersey as a charitable service.  When the priory was first established, offering occasional hospitality and running the ferry free of charge were not onerous.  This changed rapidly after 1207 when Liverpool was granted burgh status by King John, as the following translation of the original Latin charter confirms (Translation from Picton 1884):

The 1207 charter of Liverpool by King John. Source: Royal Charters of Liverpool leaflet

John, by the grace of God King of England, Lord of Ireland, Duke of Normandy, Aquitain, and Earl of Anjou, to all his faithful subjects who may have wished to have burgages in the town of Liverpool greeting. Know ye that we have granted to all our faithful people who may have taken burgages at Liverpul that they may have all liberties and free customs in the town of Liverpul which any free borough on the sea hath in our land. And therefore we command you that securely and in our peace you come there to receive and inhabit our burgages. And in testimony hereof we transmit to you these our letters patent. Witness Simon de Pateshill at Winchester on the 28th day of August in the ninth year of our reign.

A little later Liverpool was granted the right to hold markets and fairs, and the links between Liverpool and the busy port of Chester grew to be increasingly important. There was no infrastructure to cope with this increase in human traffic. They were already offering a ferry service free of charge but even more pressing on their resources was the cost of housing guests.  There were no inns between Liverpool and Chester (showing a lack of commercial ambition on the part of both Liverpool and Chester medieval merchants!), so the monks found themselves obliged to offer accommodation and food, which the rules of the Benedictine order required them to offer free of charge.  This hospitality became particularly difficult if there was a spell of bad weather, during which those waiting to cross from Birkenhead to Liverpool would have to wait at the priory until the weather improved and crossings could resume.  They were also were troubled with all the through-traffic that travelled along a route that ran through the monk’s Birkenhead lands close to the priory buildings.

The spiral staircase from the undercroft into the former refectory

It must have exacerbated the monks’ financial situation when Edward I visited the monastery twice with his entourage during this period.  Edward’s first visit was in September 1275 for three nights, seeking a diplomatic solution to his dispute with the self-styled Prince of Wales, Llywelyn the Last of Gwynedd. His second was in 1277 for six days with the apparently dual motives of pursuing his campaign against Llywelyn and receiving a delegation from Scotland to settle a boundary dispute.  Although the king would pay the costs of his entourage and horses, the cost of entertaining the king and his most senior advisors fell to the monastery.  Hosting a royal entourage was notoriously expensive, and any contributions made by a visiting monarch to a monastic establishment only rarely compensated for the outlay.

One of the measures to improve their income in the 1270s involved the expense of serious litigation when incumbent prior claimed that the church had been presented in its entirety to the priory.  This was disputed by the Massey family, who triumphed in the courts.  Fortunately for the priory, in 1278 the 5th Hamon de Massey came to an agreement with the monks to their benefit.  Other litigation occurred over pasture rights in Bidston and Claughton.

In 1284 the priory received permission from Edward I, who had probably witnessed the priory’s problems at first hand in the 1270s, to divert the road that disrupted the priory “to the manifest scandal of their religion” and to provide the priory court with an enclosure, either a ditch, hedge or wall, to preserve its privacy.  This would have incurred costs, but would have eased one of the problems caused by the ferry.  Rather more significant for their finances, early in the 14th century the priory was granted a licence to build and charge for guest lodgings at the ferry at Woodside, and in 1311 they were granted the rights to sell food there.  It was at this time that the church was expanded, which would have been a significant project.

Chapter house building with scriptorium room added over the top in the 14th century.

The first half of the 14th century had been hard for most of western Europe, with both famine due to anomalous weather conditions that caused crops to fail, followed only a few decades later by  a plague that killed huge numbers of people.  In Britain the famine lasted from 1315-17 and the Black Death arrived in 1348. The priory survived both the famine and the plague, as did the settlement of Liverpool, now a century old.  At some point in the first half of the 14th century, the priory acquired land in Liverpool so that the monks could begin to trade their goods at market, building a granary or warehouse on Water Street (then known as Bank Street).

In 1316 the hospital of St John the Baptist in Chester was judged to be seriously mismanaged and was put into the hands of the priory, perhaps because of their experience running their own infirmary.  This was a failure, merely adding to the priory’s problems, and was removed from their care in 1341.

Multiple layers in the west range, with a  window added into the top of a former fireplace, blocking it, and a fireplace above it.

In 1333 Edward III requested monasteries to contribute to the expenses of the marriage of his sister Eleanor.  Local monasteries who contributed included Birkenhead, which contributed £3 6s 8d and Chester’s St Werburgh’s Abbey which, bigger and more prosperous, gave £13 6s 8d.  There were doubtless other payments of this sort, occasional and therefore unpredictable, and impossible to resist.  The priory was also liable for taxation.

The ferry from Woodside had continued to be supplied free of charge, but the priory appealed to Edward III and was permitted for the first time to charge tolls in 1330, setting a precedent that remains today.  A challenge to the monk to operate the ferry and claim the tolls, was challenged by the Black Prince in 1353, but the priory produced its charter and successfully resisted the removal of this privilege.  The tolls charged were recorded at that time:  2d for a man and horse, laden or not; 1/4d for a man on foot or 1/2d on a Saturday market dasy if he had a pack

Other ways of generating income from lands to which they had rights were also explored, and from records of litigation against them, they were often accused of infringing forest law.  Wirral had been defined as a forest by the Norman earls of Chester, which restricted how the land could be used.  The monks were clearly assarting (cutting down wood to convert to fields and pasture), reclaiming waterlogged land, enclosing certain areas and cutting peat for fuel. The priory was able to argue special exemptions for some of the charges, and produced the charters to prove it, but at other times they were fined for the infractions.  In 1357, for example, they were fined for keeping 20 pigs in the woods.

A number of monastic establishments seem to have responded to surviving the plague by redefining themselves via architectural transformations.  Whatever the reasons for this trend, Birkenhead Priory was no exception and the 14th century could have been an expensive time for the monks.  The frater range (including the elaborate vaulted undercroft and the refectory) was completely rebuilt and the west range was remodelled.  The room today described as a scriptorium was also added over the chapter house at this time.  Although Stewart-Brown suggests that much of this could have been accomplished with “pious industry . . . without much cost” with the assistance of donations of labour and money, that is probably somewhat optimistic, and there would have been an outlay.  Certainly, at the end of the century the priory was considered to be so impoverished that it was exempted from its tax contribution.

There is some evidence that for at least some of the Middle Ages the priory rented out land rather than working it themselves, except for their home farm at Cloughton. This had the benefit of providing a dependable income if tenants were reliable, and obviated the need to appoint managers or deal with labour and handle the sale of produce, but if the cost of living went up, the fixed income that no longer purchased what it had previously afforded, and this could represent a serious problem.

Dissolution

The opening page of the Valor Ecclesiasticus, showing Henry VIII. Source: Wikipedia

When Henry VIII’s demand for a divorce was rejected by the pope, the king severed Britain from the Catholic Church, creating the Church of England.  This provided him with the opportunity to acquire land and valuable assets by dissolving all monastic establishments, all of which had been subject to the papacy.  The spoils were to be used to fund Henry’s wars with France and Scotland, and some former monasteries were given to Henry’s supporters as rewards. To assess the potential of the monastic assets, Henry VIII commissioned the Valor ecclesiastis, a review of every monastery in the country.  All monastic establishments with an annual income of less than £200.00 were to be closed as soon as possible. The first monasteries were dissolved in 1536 and the process was more or less concluded by 1540, with a handful of the more prestigious abbeys, like St Werburgh’s in Chester, converted to cathedrals.  Birkenhead Priory was only earning £91.00 annually so it was amongst the first to be closed.  There was no resistance by the Birkenhead prior, who was provided with a pension of £12.00 annually.  The brethren were either dismissed or disseminated to non-monastic establishments.

Visiting

The car park is on Church Street, at the rear of the priory, where the cafe is also located.  There is some on-street parking on Priory Street at the front of the priory. Source: Birkenhead Priory website

This is a super place, and makes for a terrific visit.  Do go.  You won’t be disappointed!

Even with SatNav, the big thing to remember about finding your way to Birkenhead Priory, if you are arriving by car from the Chester direction, is to do whatever it takes NOT to end up at the Mersey tunnel toll-booths 🙂  They were very nice about it, let me out through a barrier, and gave me perfect directions to get to the priory once they had freed me from the tunnel concourse.  Very nice people.  If Edward III was looking down, I’m sure he would have rolled his eyes in despair, given that it was he who gave the monks the right to charge for their Mersey ferry crossings.

Do check the opening times on the website, as the priory is only open on certain days and for only a few hours on those days, mainly in the afternoons. There is dedicated parking on Church Street at SatNav What3Words reference ///super.punchy.report.  From there, the priory is up a short flight of steps.  You can also park on Priory Street, which is where the SatNav will take you if you simply type “Birkenhead Priory” into your SatNav (at What3Words ///indoor.vibes.hips), which offers step-free access but there is limited parking there, and it is a favourite place for van drivers to park and eat their lunches so may be better used as a drop-off point before going round the the car park.

Remnants of the decorative floor tiles, now in the priory’s undercroft, which is used as a museum space

At the time of writing, a visit is free of charge, and so are the guided tours.  My guide was the excellent Frank.  He covered not only the priory but St Mary’s, the HMS Conway room, and the HMS Thetis memorial and, when I headed up to the top of the tower of St Mary’s, directed me to out for the dry dock where the CSS Alabama (the US Confederate blockade runner) was built by John Laird, to be discussed in Part 2.  Frank was very skilled at providing sufficient knowledge to get a real sense of the place, but not so much that it became information overload.  I very much appreciated this, having always found it difficult myself to strike that particular balance.  I was lucky enough to have him to myself, having turned up at opening time, but I noticed that the next tour had a respectable group attending.

There is a small gift shop where you can also buy a really useful guide book with plenty of plans, illustrations and colour photographs.  Please note that they are not able to take cards, and payment is cash only.

There are toilets in St Mary’s tower, a picnic area behind the undercroft on sunny days, and the highly rated Start Yard café is almost next door on Church Street.

For those with unwilling legs, I would suggest that apart from the tower and its 101 steps, and a flight of around 10 steps up into the scriptoruim (the display area for HMS Conway) this is entirely do-able.  There are occasional single steps and uneven surfaces, and it is a matter of taking good care.  As mentioned above, if you park in the carpark at the rear on Church Street, there is a flight of steps into the priory, but even if there is no space in the limited street parking available at the front of the priory on Priory Street, it is a useful drop-off point for anyone needing step-free access.  You can find the SatNav references for both above.

I have posted a two-minute video of the priory, recorded on my iPhone, on YouTube:

Sources

Books, papers, and guidebooks

Baggs. A.P., Ann .J Kettle. S. J. Lander, A.T. Thacker, David Wardle 1980. Houses of Benedictine monks: The priory of Birkenhead, In (eds.) Elrington, C. R. and B. E. Harris. A History of the County of Chester: Volume 3, (London, 1980) pp. 128-132.
https://www.british-history.ac.uk/vch/ches/vol3/pp128-132

Burne, R.V.H. 1962. The Monks of St Werburgh. The History of St Werburgh’s Abbey. S.P.C.K.

Chitty, Gill 1978. Wirral Rural Fringes Survey. Journal of Merseyside Archaeological Society, vol.2 1978
https://www.merseysidearchsoc.com/uploads/2/7/2/9/2729758/jmas_2_paper_1.pdf

de Figueiredo, Peter 2018. Birkenhead Priory. A Guidebook. ISBN 978 1 9996424 0 2

Hughes, Tony. St Mary’s Parish Church, BIrkenhead, 1819-1977. n.d.
https://thebirkenheadpriory.org/wp-content/uploads/St-Marys-booklet.pdf

Picton, Sir James A. 1884.  Notes on the Charters of the Borough (now City) of Liverpool. The Historic Society of Lancashire and Cheshire, vol 36 (1884)
https://www.hslc.org.uk/wp-content/uploads/2017/07/36-5-Picton.pdf

Stewart-Brown, R. 1925.  Birkenhead Priory and the Mersey Ferry, and a Chapter on the Monastic Buildings. The Gift of the Directors of the State Assurance Company Ltd.

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


Websites

The Birkenhead Priory
https://thebirkenheadpriory.org/
Buildings of Birkenhead Priory
https://thebirkenheadpriory.org/about/
The medieval grave slabs of Birkenhead Priory
http://thebirkenheadpriory.org/wp-content/uploads/Graveslabs-of-Priory-Chapel.pdf

Mike Royden’s Local History Pages
The Monastic and Religious Orders in the Hundred of Wirral from the Saxons to the Dissolution of the Monasteries – A study of the Monastic history and heritage of Wirral by Norman Blake, April 2003
http://www.roydenhistory.co.uk/mrlhp/articles/students/monasticwirral/monasticwirral.htm
The Influence of Monastic Houses and Orders on the Landscape and locality of Wirral (with particular reference to Birkenhead Priory) by Robert Storrie, April 2003
http://www.roydenhistory.co.uk/mrlhp/articles/students/bheadpriory/bheadpriory.htm
The Medieval Landscape of Liverpool: Monastic Lands (with particular reference to the granges of Garston Hall and Stanlawe Grange) by Mike Royden, 1992
http://www.roydenhistory.co.uk/mrlhp/articles/mikeroyden/liverpool/monastic/mondoc.htm

ArchaeoDeath
Commemorating the Reburied Dead: Landican Cemetery
https://howardwilliamsblog.wordpress.com/2024/05/16/commemorating-the-reburied-dead/

Old Wirral
https://oldwirral.net/archaeology.html

Wirral Council
Making Our Heritage Matter. Wirral’s Heritage Strategy 2011-2014, 2013 Revision. Technical Services Department.
http://democracy.wirral.gov.uk/documents/s50009194/Wirral Heritage Strategy Appendix.pdf

Wirral History
Medieval Wirral (maps)
http://www.wirralhistory.uk/medieval.html

An online archive for for St Mary’s Church and the Priory, Birkenhead
History of the Priory and St. Mary’s Church Birkenhead
http://stmarysbirkenhead.blogspot.com/p/history-of-priory-and-st-marys-church.html


Leaflets

Birkenhead Priory Guide. Metropolitan Borough of Wirral.
Birkenhead Priory A4 leaflet Wirral

Liverpool’s Royal Charters
https://liverpool.gov.uk/media/ghdaoid3/liverpool-charter.pdf

St Mary’s Parish Church 1819-1977
https://thebirkenheadpriory.org/wp-content/uploads/St-Marys-booklet.pdf