CHAPTER X

PRIVATE AND PROMISCUOUS CEMETERIES.

“Praises on tombs are trifles vainly spent,

A man’s good name is his best monument.”

_Epitaph on Pindar’s monument in St. Botolph’s, Aldersgate Street._

THERE are two chief senses in which the word “private” may be taken. It

denotes what belongs to a particular person, family, or institution

apart from the general public—thus we say a “private chapel,” a “private

drive,” and so on. It also means that which has been set into being by a

private individual, and which is, therefore, a private speculation. Into

these two classes I can divide the graveyards which are to be dealt with

in this chapter.

The Romans preserved the right of erecting tombs in their country

residences. Their very stringent laws prevented them from burying the

dead inside the cities (except certain classes of privileged persons),

but as long as the interment took place outside the walls, it seems, at

one time, to have mattered little where a tomb was set up. This practice

was put a stop to in the time of Duillius, and sepulchres were no longer

allowed in fields and private grounds, as it was found that the custom

was tending to diminish the area of land available for cultivation.

I think that such a practice was never general in London or the

surrounding district, but there are a few cases in which something of

the sort took place. In Wood’s “Ecclesiastical Antiquities” it is stated

that there was a cemetery at Somerset House, Strand, for the Catholic

members of Queen Henrietta Maria’s household (1626). It is certain that

the vaults under the palace chapel were used, as they were closed for

interments in 1777 (fourteen burials having taken place in fifty-seven

years), and if there was also a cemetery, the use of which was in this

way restricted, it may fairly be called private. It is possible however

that this may have been a part of the original churchyard of St. Mary le

Strand. The site has now disappeared, the present building of Somerset

House being far more extended than was the old one.

Another curious private ground, also used by Romanists, was the garden

of Hundsdon House, the French Embassy, in Blackfriars. In 1623 the floor

of a neighbouring Jesuit chapel gave way, and about 95 persons were

killed. Stow says that 20 bodies (of the poorer people) were buried on

the spot. Malcolm states that 44 were buried in the courtyard before the

Ambassador’s house, and 15 in his garden. Brayley’s version is that some

were buried in a burying-place “within the Spanish Ambassador’s house in

Holborn,” and that two great pits were dug, one in the forecourt of the

French Ambassador’s house, 18 feet by 12 feet, where 44 were interred,

the other in the garden behind, 12 feet by 8 feet. Wood gives the number

of those buried in these pits as 47. It was, at any rate, a curious and

summary way of disposing of the bodies of those who had so suddenly lost

their lives.

I only know of one burial-ground in London which is so strictly private

as to have only one grave in it. In Retreat Place, Hackney, a quiet

corner near the Unitarian Church, there is a row of twelve almshouses,

founded by Samuel Robinson in 1812, “for the widows of Dissenting

ministers professing Calvinistic doctrines.” In front of this

establishment is a neatly-kept grass plot, and in the centre of it is a

large altar tomb—not erected for the use of the ministers’ widows, but

containing the mortal remains of Samuel Robinson, who died in 1833, and

of his own widow who survived him three years. For my own part I should

prefer the enclosure without the grave, but perhaps the widows like to

be daily reminded of their benefactor.

[Illustration: BURIAL-GROUND IN NEWGATE GAOL.]

There are, no doubt, many private gardens and yards in London in which

burials have taken place, surreptitiously if not openly. Only recently

an undertaker was remanded for having been in the habit of temporarily

depositing the bodies of stillborn infants in his own back premises

until such time as there should be enough to make it worth while for him

to give them a decent burial. But, numerous as these instances may be,

it is difficult to get any record of them.

Convent burial-grounds are very private, but of these I have already

spoken in Chapter II. In Millbank Penitentiary a space, 432 square yards

in extent, was set aside as a graveyard, in which there was ordinarily

rather over one burial per month. There is a picture of it in Griffith’s

“Memorials of Millbank,” but no description. This particular plot of

ground is to be preserved as an open space when the new buildings are

erected on the site of the prison; it will probably belong to the London

School Board. Newgate burial-ground is still in use. It is a passage in

the prison, 10 feet wide and 85 feet long, in which are interred, with a

plentiful supply of quicklime, the bodies of those who are executed

within the walls. This reminds me of the gallows which stood for so many

years at the Tyburn turnpike, the site of which is still marked by a

stone in the Bayswater Road, a few yards west of the Marble Arch. Those

who were executed here (there were 24 in 1729) were buried on the spot,

and this extraordinary burial-ground was situated at the point now

occupied by the house at the corner of Edgware Road and Upper Bryanston

Street.[7] Mr. W. J. Loftie entirely discredits this story, and says

that one jawbone is all that was ever found to represent human remains

on this site. On their way to the gallows the poor criminals received a

present of a large bowl of ale, called St. Giles’ bowl, from the lazar

hospital of St. Giles, which was situated close to where the church now

stands. And thus they were refreshed on their last sad journey.

Footnote 7:

Smith’s “St. Marylebone.”

By the close of the last century the London churchyards, and the

additional burial-grounds provided by the parishes, were becoming so

overcrowded, that it occurred to some adventurers to start cemeteries as

private speculations; and it was greatly owing to their existence and to

their abuse that the agitation arose which finally led to the passing of

the “Act to amend the Laws concerning the Burial of the Dead in the

Metropolis,” under which the metropolitan burial-grounds were closed.

The speculation was found to be a successful one, and was imitated in

different parts of London, until by the year 1835 there must have been

at least fourteen burial-grounds in London carried on by private

persons, besides some additional chapels with vaults under them

conducted in the same way. A few of these grounds originated in

connection with neighbouring places of worship, but were subsequently

bought by private persons. In Central London there were (1) Spa Fields,

Clerkenwell; (2) Thomas’ burial-ground, Golden Lane; (3) the New City

Bunhill Fields, or the City of London burial-ground, Golden Lane. In

North London there was (4) the New or Little Bunhill Fields, Church

Street, Islington. In East London there were (5) Sheen’s burial-ground,

Whitechapel; (6) Victoria Park Cemetery, Bethnal Green; (7) the East

London Cemetery or Beaumont’s ground, Mile End; (8) Globe Fields

burial-ground, Mile End Old Town; (9) the North-east London Cemetery, or

Cambridge Heath burial-ground, or Peel Grove burial-ground, or Keldy’s

Ground, Bethnal Green; (10) Gibraltar Walk burial-ground, Bethnal Green;

(11) Ebenezer Chapel ground, Ratcliff Highway. And in South London (12)

Butler’s burial-ground, Horselydown, or St. John’s; (13) the New Bunhill

Fields, or Hoole and Martin’s ground, Deverell Street, New Kent Road;

and (14) a ground in Ewer Street, Southwark.

The charges made for interments in these places were generally slightly

lower than in the churchyards, in order to attract customers, and those

who officiated at the funerals were, in many cases, not ministers of

religion at all. In Butler’s burial-ground, for instance, the person who

read the burial service (of the Church of England) wore a surplice, but

he was merely an employé of the undertaker, who also acted as porter. In

Hoole and Martin’s ground a Mr. Thomas Jenner was employed to officiate

at funerals for £20 a year. He also read the burial service of the

Church of England, but he was by trade a shoemaker, or a patten-maker,

whose shop was close by. The owners of these private grounds were

naturally tempted to crowd them to excess, and it is impossible to think

of what took place in some of them without shuddering. No doubt

practices as vile, as unwholesome, and as irreverent were carried on in

many of the churchyards; but the over-crowding of the private grounds is

so associated with the idea of private gloating over private gains that

it is more repulsive.

One of the most notoriously offensive spots in London was Enon Chapel,

Clement’s Lane. The chapel was built, and the vaults under it were made,

as a speculation by a dissenting minister named Howse. The burial-fees

were small, and the place was resorted to by the poor, as many as nine

or ten burials often taking place on a Sunday afternoon. The space

available for coffins was, at the highest computation, 59 feet by 29

feet, with a depth of 6 feet, and no less than 20,000 coffins were

deposited there. In order to accomplish this herculean task it was the

common practice to burn the older coffins in the minister’s house, under

his copper and in his fireplaces. Between the coffins and the floor of

the chapel there was nothing but the boards. In time the effluvium in

the chapel became intolerable, and no one attended the services, but the

vaults were still used for interments, so that “more money was made from

the dead than from the living”—a state of affairs which existed in many

of the private burial-places of the metropolis. As I shall have to refer

again to the condition of these grounds in speaking of the closing of

graveyards in London, I will not enlarge upon it any further here,

except to quote from the evidence brought before the Select Committee

which sat in 1842 to consider the question of Interment in Towns,

respecting the Globe Fields burial-ground in Mile End, which is merely

one example out of sixty-five examinations.

William Miller, called in and examined.

“1615. CHAIRMAN. What is your occupation?—A jobbing, labouring man, when

I can get anything to do.”

“1616. Have you been a gravedigger in Globe Fields. Mile End?—Yes.”

“1617. Is that a private burying-ground?—Yes.”

“1618. To whom does it belong?—Mr. Thomas Tagg.”

“1620. Have many pits been dug in it for the depositing of bodies

previously interred?—Yes.”

“1621. Where did they come from?—Out of the coffins which were emptied

for others to go into the graves.”

“1623. Were the coffins chucked in with them?—No; they were broken up

and burnt.”

“1624. Were they bones, or bodies, that were interred?—Yes; the bones

and bodies as well.”

“1625. Were they entire, or in a state of decomposition?—Some were dry

bones, and some were perfect.”

“1627. What did you do with them?—Chucked them into the pit.”

“1628. What sort of pit?—A deep, square pit, about four feet wide and

seven or eight feet deep.”

“1629. How many bodies did you chuck in?—I cannot say, they were so

numerous; each pit would hold about a dozen.”

“1630. How many of these pits did you dig?—I suppose I dug a matter of

20 myself.”

“1632. How near to the surface of the earth did these dead bodies or

bones come?—Within about two feet.”

“1638. What is the size of this ground?—It is rather better than half an

acre.”

“1639. How many bodies are buried in that ground within a year?—I cannot

say; I suppose there are 14,000 have been buried in that ground.”

“1640. How long has it been open?—Since the year 1820.”

“1641. Do you recollect any circumstance which occurred there about the

month of October, 1839?—Yes.”

“1642. Will you state it to the Committee?—Some boys were at work there;

a policeman on the railroad happened to see them in the act of taking

some bones out of baskets, and got a policeman in the police force of

the metropolis, and sent him in and seized the boys with a bag of nails

and plates of the coffins, going away to sell them, and going to sell

the bones.”

“1643. To what purpose are the bones applied?—I do not know.”

“1644. What is done with the wood of the coffins?—Burnt for their own

private use.”

“1645. By whom?—By the sexton.”

“1648. MR. COWPER. Is it burnt in the sexton’s house?—Yes.”

“1649. SIR WILLIAM CLAY. What was done with the iron or metal handles of

the coffins?—They were burnt on the coffins when I was there, and were

thrown out among the ashes about the ground anywhere.”

“1653. MR. AINSWORTH. Who performs the burial service over the dead?—A

gentleman of the name of Cauch.”

“1654. Does he reside there?—No, he resides opposite.”

“1655. What is he?—I do not know that he is anything; he has formerly

been a shoemaker.”

“1656. Does he put on a gown when he buries the dead?—Yes, a surplice.”

“1657. What service does he read?—The regular Church service.”

“1665. CHAIRMAN. Were you in the habit of performing this grave-digging

without the use of spirits?—No; we were obliged to be half groggy to do

it, and we cheered one another and sung to one another.”

“1666. You found the work so disgusting you were obliged to be half

drunk?—Yes.”

And so on. Many of the revelations made to this committee are so

revolting that they are best forgotten. It is, perhaps, only fair to say

that this particular man’s evidence was contradicted by Mr. Thomas Tagg,

the owner of the ground, but it was subsequently corroborated by other

and disinterested witnesses.

[Illustration: PEEL GROVE BURIAL-GROUND, BETHNAL GREEN.]

[Illustration: VICTORIA PARK CEMETERY BEFORE BEING LAID OUT.]

The fate of these fourteen grounds has been a varied one. Thomas’s has

gone, and its site is occupied by a large building, chiefly a shoe

factory, on the north side of Playhouse Yard, and immediately to the

west of the church known as St. Mary’s Charterhouse. Sheen’s is now the

yard of Messrs. Fairclough, carters, off Commercial Road, and there are

some stables and sheds in it. It was, some few years back, a cooperage.

Peel Grove burial-ground is smaller than it was, and what is left is a

builder’s yard about an acre in extent, the remainder of the space

having been built upon. The very small ground by Ebenezer Chapel, near

St. George’s in the East, is also a timber-yard, the chapel itself

having long since fallen into disuse. Over half of the Globe Fields

ground the Great Eastern Railway runs; the remainder is a bare yard,

with several miserable tombstones in it and quantities of rubbish. It is

fast closed behind an iron gate of colossal proportions, and it daily

becomes more neglected and untidy. Little Bunhill Fields in Islington is

divided into several parts; one division belongs to the General Post

Office, and contains parcels-carts, &c., other pieces are let or sold as

builders’ yards or are lying vacant. New Bunhill Fields, near New Kent

Road, has been through many vicissitudes. It was very much overcrowded

with bodies, and in the vault under the chapel burials used to take

place “on lease,” _i.e._ £1 would be paid for a coffin to be deposited

for six months, after which time no inquiries were to be made. As soon

as the ground was closed for burials it became a timber-yard, and the

chapel in it was used as a saw-mill. Now the sawing goes on in an

adjoining shed, and the chapel belongs to the Salvation Army, the

graveyard being still covered with high stacks of timber. The City of

London ground, in Golden Lane, which was only used for about twenty

years, is divided. The part situated in the parish of St. Luke’s belongs

to Messrs. Sutton & Co., carriers, and is full of carts, the greater

part of it being roofed in. The part situated within the city boundary

forms the site of the City Mortuary and Coroner’s Court, with a

neatly-kept yard between the two buildings. Gibraltar Walk

burial-ground, Bethnal Green Road, has only had small slices cut off it

and doled out as yards, &c., for the surrounding houses. The main

portion is a neglected jungle, forming a sort of private garden to the

big house which opens on to it, and in which the owner of the ground

lives. In order to see Butler’s burial-ground it is necessary to go down

Coxon’s Place, Horselydown, where two yards will be found. One is a

small builder’s yard, with “Beware of the Dog” on the gate. Once I

doubted the existence of the dog, and pushed open this gate, but he was

there in full vigour, and I speedily fled. The adjoining yard, which is

much larger, is Messrs. Zurhoost’s cooperage, and is full of barrels.

There were vaults used for burials under three or four of the houses.

They can still be seen, and are now, apparently, dwelling-places for the

living. The graveyard in Ewer Street has disappeared under the London

Bridge and Charing Cross Railway.

The East London Cemetery, in Shandy Street, Mile End, is a recreation

ground chiefly for children. So is Spa Fields, Clerkenwell, which was

one of the most crowded burial-grounds in London, after having been a

fashionable tea-garden, and before being used as a volunteer

drill-ground. Both these grounds were secured and laid out by the

Metropolitan Public Gardens Association, and are maintained by the

London County Council. Such is also the history of Victoria Park

Cemetery, a space of 11½ acres, and by far the largest of the private

venture burial-grounds. In this ground it was stated that, on every

Sunday in the year 1856, 130 bodies were interred. After years of

negotiation and much difficulty, the Metropolitan Public Gardens

Association secured it, and converted it from a dreary waste of

crumbling tombstones and sinking graves into a most charming little park

for the people of Bethnal Green. It was opened by H.R.H. the Duke of

York in July, 1894, and the County Council maintains it, having

re-christened it Meath Gardens.

[Illustration: VICTORIA PARK CEMETERY WHEN FIRST LAID OUT.]

It need hardly be pointed out that in very few of the spaces I have just

described are any tombstones to be found. To a casual observer they are

utterly unrecognisable as burial-grounds, and it is many years since

such relics can have existed in them. When, for instance, a

burial-ground becomes a builder’s yard, tombstones are very much in the

way, and they are soon converted into paving-stones, Some years ago a

few inscriptions were still legible on the stones which paved the

passage to Spa Fields from Exmouth Street, but by this time even these

must be worn away. But if it is denied by the owners of these yards that

they are burial-grounds there is one method of proving it which soon

dispels all doubt, and that is by digging down into the soil. It will

not be necessary to make any deep excavation before the spade turns up

some earth mixed with human remains, which, once seen, are always

recognisable.

Archbishop Herring adopted this plan, as he was anxious to know if any

burials had taken place in what was always known as the “burying-ground”

of Lambeth Palace, on the north side of the chapel, by the site of the

smaller cloisters. In fact he had the whole space dug over, but without

success, for no signs of human remains were found; and it is probable

that the interments which took place within the palace were all under

the chapel.

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The London Burial Grounds Notes on Their History from the Earliest Times to the Present Day · 第 10 / 15 章