THE CEMETERIES STILL IN USE.
“With thy rude ploughshare, Death, turn up the sod,
And spread the furrow for the seed we sow;
This is the field and acre of our God,
This is the place where human harvests grow.”
LONGFELLOW.
BESIDES the churchyards of Tooting, Plumstead, Lee, and Eltham, that are
still available for interments, and some others, such as Charlton and
Fulham, where burials in existing graves or vaults are sanctioned on
application to the Home Secretary, ten burial-grounds, which can hardly
be called cemeteries, are still being used in London. These are the
South Street or Garratt’s Lane ground at Wandsworth, consecrated in
1808, where widows, widowers, and parents of deceased persons already
interred there can be buried, and the Holly Lane ground in Hampstead,
which was consecrated in 1812, and is occasionally used; the graveyard
by the Friends’ Meeting-House in Stoke Newington, those in the convents
in King Street, Hammersmith, and Portobello Road, and one in Newgate
Gaol (to all of which I have referred); and a burial-ground crowded with
tombstones behind St. Thomas’ Roman Catholic Church in Fulham, where new
graves are still dug, although there appears to be no room for more
monuments, and although densely-populated streets are on every side. The
other three are Jewish grounds, one in Ball’s Pond, N., and two in Mile
End, E., and they are described in Chapter VIII.
It will be noticed that when the Act was passed, under which the
metropolitan burial-grounds were to be closed, seven of the new
cemeteries were already in use, and while the burial-grounds were being
closed, other cemeteries were being started.
The Act for the formation of Kensal Green Cemetery was passed in 1832,
after unremitting efforts on the part of Mr. G. F. Carden. It is
situated by the Harrow Road, not far short of Willesden Junction, and
when first made was practically in the country. Now it is in the midst
of large colonies of small houses. It has, as is usual, a consecrated
and an unconsecrated portion, with a chapel in each. Its establishment
led the way to the formation of other cemeteries, but most of the later
ones were acquired by the parishes, not started by companies.
Several of the large cemeteries which have thus sprung into existence
are just outside the metropolitan area, but the following are within the
boundary of the County of London, and are tabulated in the order in
which they were established:—
─────────────────────────────────────────────────┬───────┬────────
│ │DATE OF
NAME OF CEMETERY. │ SIZE │ FIRST
│ IN │ INTER-
│ACRES. │ MENT.
─────────────────────────────────────────────────┼───────┼────────
1. All Souls’ Cemetery, Kensal Green, W. │ 69¼ │ 1833
2. The South Metropolitan Cemetery, Norwood, │ 40 │ 1838
S.E. │ │
3. St. James’ Cemetery, Highgate, N.W. │ 38 │ 1839
4. Abney Park Cemetery, Stoke Newington, N. │ 32 │ 1840
5. Brompton Cemetery, or the West London, or │ 38 │ 1840
London and Westminster Cemetery, W. │ │
6. All Saints’ Cemetery, Nunhead, S.E. │ 50 │ 1840
7. City of London and Tower Hamlets Cemetery, │ 33 │ 1841
South Grove, Mile End, E. │ │
8. Lambeth Cemetery, Tooting Graveney, S.W. │ 41 │ 1854
9. Charlton Cemetery, S.E. │ 8 │ 1855
10. St. Mary’s Cemetery, Putney, Putney Lower │ 3 │ 1855
Common, S.W. │ │
11. Woolwich Cemetery, Wickham Lane, S.E. │ 32 │ 1856
12. Camberwell Cemetery, Peckham Rye. S.E. │ 29½ │ 1856
13. Greenwich Hospital Cemetery, Westcombe, S.E. │ 6 │ 1857
14. Deptford Cemetery (St. Paul’s), Lewisham, │ 17 │ 1858
S.E. │ │
15. St. Mary’s Roman Catholic Cemetery, Kensal │ 30 │ 1858
Green, W. │ │
16. Lewisham Cemetery, S.E. │ 15½ │ 1858
17. St. Mary’s Cemetery, Battersea, S.W. │ 8½ │ 1860
18. Fulham Cemetery, S.W, │ 12½ │ 1865
19. Hammersmith Cemetery, Fulham, S.W. │ 16½ │ 1869
20. Lee Cemetery, Hither Green, S.E. │ 10 │ 1873
21. Hampstead Cemetery, Fortune Green, N.W. │ 19¼ │ 1876
22. Wandsworth Cemetery, Magdalen Road, S.W. │ 12 │ 1878
23. Plumstead Cemetery, S.E. │ 32¼ │ 1890
24. Greenwich Cemetery │ 15 │
Total │ 608¼ │
─────────────────────────────────────────────────┴───────┴────────
Some of these cemeteries have been added to since they were first
formed, and, considering the rate at which they are being used, they
will all need to be enlarged in a very few years—that is if the present
mode of interment continues to be the ordinary one.
[Illustration: SITE OF THE GROUND at WORMWOOD SCRUBS, in the Parish of
Hammersmith]
It must not be imagined that land was secured for these cemeteries
without difficulty. The inhabitants of the districts in which it was
proposed to place them naturally petitioned against their formation. A
huge scheme for securing ninety-two acres (the Roundwood Farm Estate),
between Willesden and Harlesden, for the Great Extramural Cemetery
Association, was opposed by the Middlesex magistrates and others, and
was not sanctioned by the Secretary of State. Part of this site is now a
public park. The parish of Kensington applied for permission to form a
cemetery of thirty acres at Wormwood SCRUBS, but had eventually to go as
far out of London as Hanwell in order to secure a suitable plot.
Unfortunately some public land was allotted. I believe that Norwood
Cemetery was formerly a part of Norwood Common, and Putney and Barnes
Cemeteries (the latter being just outside the boundary of London) are on
Putney and Barnes Commons. The cemetery at Tooting was once meadow-land
known as Baggery Mead, and for most of the others farm land and fields
were taken. Happily it would now be very difficult to acquire a piece of
common or lammas land for any such purpose, as we know far better than
we did how to preserve our greatest treasures. How disastrous it would
be if, when our village churchyards could no longer be used, the village
greens were turned into burial-grounds!
[Illustration: NORWOOD CEMETERY ABOUT 1851.]
The accompanying picture of Norwood Cemetery was published in 1851, and
shows a single row of tombstones by the paths. Now there is row upon row
behind these, the place seems to be entirely filled, and “yet there is
room.” These grounds are all much alike, but Norwood is peculiar in
containing a small parochial burial-ground belonging to St. Mary at
Hill, in the City (the church of the Church Army), and another belonging
to the Greeks. Most dwellers in London are acquainted with one or other
of the cemeteries, some people finding pleasure in walking about in
them, and sitting on the seats provided for visitors among the tombs;
and they are, on the whole, well looked after and neatly kept. It is
rather to be regretted that the custom of putting quaint and interesting
epitaphs on the stones is so entirely a thing of the past; the
monotonous texts do not take their place at all.
There is a special interest attached to Kensal Green Cemetery from its
having been the first, but I think it is also the worst. Mr. Loftie
describes it as “the bleakest, dampest, most melancholy of all the
burial-grounds of London.” I doubt if it is the dampest, though the soil
is a heavy clay, for I think that the Tower Hamlets Cemetery is probably
far damper. Nor is Kensal Green so overcrowded or untidy as the Tower
Hamlets, where gravestones are tumbling and lying about, apparently
unclaimed and uncared for, amongst dead shrubs and rank grass; it has
also not quite so large a proportion of “common graves” (for eight
bodies or so), as there are in some of the other grounds, and the number
of burials per acre has not been quite so enormous as, for instance, at
Tooting, Brompton, or Abney Park. The last-named ground, when it had
only been opened fifteen years, was described in an official report as
being “a mass of corruption underneath,” the soil being a “damp, blue
clay.” But Kensal Green Cemetery is truly awful, with its catacombs, its
huge mausoleums, family vaults, statues, broken pillars, weeping images,
and oceans of tombstones, good, bad, and indifferent. I think the
indifferent are to be preferred, the bad should not be anywhere, and the
good are utterly out of place. It is also the largest in the metropolis,
and as the Roman Catholic ground joins it there are in this spot, or
there very soon will be, ninety-nine acres of dead bodies.
[Illustration: THE TOMB OF PRINCESS SOPHIA.]
There are many sad sights in London, but to me there are few so sad as
one of these huge graveyards. Not that the idea of the numbers of dead
beneath the soil produces any thoughts of melancholy, but I feel
inclined to exclaim with the disciples, “To what purpose is this waste?”
Can there be any more profitless mode of throwing away money than by
erecting costly tombstones? They are of no use to the departed, and they
are grievous burdens laid on the shoulders of succeeding generations.
The only people who profit by them are a few marble and granite
merchants, and a few monumental masons—and they might be better
employed. The whole funeral system is an extravagant imposition, and has
been for years. It may be said that the heavy trappings, the plumes, the
scarves, &c., are going out of fashion; and this is true, but other
things are taking their place. I saw the other day a neat little copy of
the Burial Service, bound in black leather, with a cross outside. On the
fly leaf was printed the name of the person to be buried, with the date
of death, place of interment, &c. This book was given by the undertaker
to each of those who attended the funeral, and as the ceremony was
conducted by a Nonconformist minister, who arranged it in accordance
with his own individual predilection, the little book was useless! I
merely mention this as a specimen of the way in which the expenses of a
modern funeral may be mounted up. The rich lavish their money on costly,
almost indestructible coffins, which it would be far better to do
without altogether, and on masses of flowers that die unseen, while the
poor go into debt to buy mourning, which they often pawn before a month
is over; and many a widow and family, who have a hard struggle to
provide daily food, deny themselves the necessities of life, and sow the
seeds of disease and want, in order to set up a tombstone or monument on
a grave. And who sees it? A few people may occasionally go to Kensal
Green to look at the tomb of Princess Sophia, the family mausoleum of
the Duke of Cambridge, or the monuments erected to the Duke of Sussex,
Thackeray, Mulready, Tom Hood, George Cruikshank (whose body has been
removed to St. Paul’s Cathedral), Leigh Hunt, John Leech, Hugh
Littlejohn, or Sydney Smith; but they are utterly spoilt by their
surroundings. It is hardly possible to appreciate such memorials when
they are closely hedged in by others in all descriptions of stone, of
all shapes and sizes, and in all styles of architecture. And it is
appalling to think of the amount of money that has been spent on these
massive monuments. How many a church or chapel might have been built in
a growing district; how many a beautiful old church now falling to decay
might have been restored[9]; how many missionaries might have been sent
to foreign lands; how many hospital beds might have been endowed; how
many struggling families, or sick members of the same, might have been
given a holiday in the country or by the sea; how many open spaces might
have been secured and laid out for the people; how many drinking
fountains might have been erected; how many grants might have been made
to voluntary schools or secular institutions for benefiting mankind; and
how many objects of real beauty and antiquarian interest might have been
preserved! It is impossible to give an answer to these questions—perhaps
one would be sadder still if one could.
Footnote 9:
Four English Cathedrals are at the present time in urgent need of
funds for restoration.
The Jews think a great deal of their tombstones, and erect very large
ones. When one is “set up” they have a special ceremony, which they
advertise beforehand, and the friends and relations gather at the grave.
I have already referred to the very different custom of the Society of
Friends—the Quakers—and I trust that they may long preserve the
simplicity of their burial practices, for “it consorts not with our
principles,” said W. Beck and T. F. Ball, in their history of the London
Friends’ Meetings (1869), “unduly to exalt the honoured dead; their
names we canonise not, and o’er their graves we raise no costly
monument.” It has been the dying wish of very many of our best men that
their bodies might be laid to rest in quietness, and without undue
expense or show. Unfortunately their wishes have not always been carried
out. Sir John Morden, who founded Morden College or Almshouses for
decayed Merchants, in Blackheath, left directions in his will that he
should be interred in the chapel of the college “without any pomp or
singing boys, but decently.” I do not think the singing boys would have
hurt him, but his wish to dispense with “pomp” was most praiseworthy.
His funeral _was_ made the occasion of a considerable ceremony, but, as
it took place at 9 o’clock in the evening, perhaps it was unaccompanied
by such an institution as a champagne lunch. His name and his fame have
survived by reason of the noble work he did, There is a deep lesson in
Sir Christopher Wren’s epitaph in St. Paul’s Cathedral:—
“Si momentum requiris circumspice.”
Longfellow sang the same strain in his well-known verses:—
“Alike are life and death
When life in death survives,
And the interrupted breath
Inspires a thousand lives.
Were a star quenched on high,
For ages would its light,
Still travelling downward from the sky,
Shine on our mortal sight.
So when a good man dies,
For years beyond our ken,
The light he leaves behind him lies
Upon the paths of men.”
And it is reiterated still more beautifully in the touching conversation
between the schoolmaster and Little Nell in Dickens’ “Old Curiosity
Shop,” towards the close of the fifty-fourth chapter.
[Illustration: IN KENSAL GREEN CEMETERY.]
I cannot conclude this division of my subject without an earnest appeal
to those who are contemplating erecting a tombstone to the memory of a
beloved relation or friend, to consider beforehand which is the wisest
way of commemorating the departed,—whether the simplest memorial is not
after all the best, “for sublimity always is simple,” whether it may not
be better still to have none at all in a cemetery already overcrowded
with monuments, and whether it is well to add indefinitely to the
forests of practically imperishable gravestones which are gradually
surrounding London and our other large towns.
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