by David Long
The architect was an engineering professor called William Hosking (who curiously preferred to be buried at Highgate) and its chief glory is perhaps the trees, more than 2,500 of them on 32 acres. These make it a hugely atmospheric place but also harder to navigate even though the species were planted in alphabetical order, from Acer to Zanthoxylum.
Religious dissenters naturally make up much of the population, including Salvation Army founders William and Catherine Booth, the abolitionist preacher Dr Thomas Binney, and the Chartist leader James O’Brien. It was also used for the video of Back to Black by singer Amy Winehouse, although she is not buried here but in Edgware, north London.
In 2012, the composer Benjamin Till wrote The London Requiem after researching 20,000 epitaphs on graves in various of the capital’s cemeteries. With contributions from actors Barbara Windsor and Matt Lucas, the playwright Sir Arnold Wesker and singers Tanita Tikaram and Maddie Prior, the finished work was first performed at Abney Park.
ROCK OF AGES
Like the wildly varied composition of the Albert Memorial,1 London’s great cemeteries can make amateur geologists of us all as one attempts to follow the changing fashions in Victorian England, first for this stone then for that. Most obviously, it was the growth of the railways that made it possible to bring such heavy material into the capital from remote areas further afield, and, over time, London’s more traditional Bath and Portland stone monuments gave way to some fairly exotic alternatives.
Granite was particularly popular as it was expensive to work but very durable and could be highly polished. It also offered consumers a very wide palette of different colours, such as pink stone from the Peterhead quarries near Aberdeen and from Ross and Mull, grey peppered stone from Bodmin, and a reddish Shap granite from Cumbria that sparkled with tiny feldspar crystals. White Carrara marble was imported from Italy at even greater expense, but its relative softness lent itself to the kind of elaborate figurative carving the Victorians liked. That said, even now, more than a century later, it still looks slightly alien in a London setting.
1840 – Brompton Cemetery
The most central of the seven, and a generous patch of green space in this part of the royal borough, the cemetery has seen more than 200,000 interments and, after a long period of closure, is once again open for business. Despite a number of high-profile burials, the most popular headstones for modern grave-spotters seem to be those of Messrs. Nutkins, McGregor and Tod, three otherwise undistinguished Londoners whose names – together with those of fellow cemetery residents Jeremiah Fisher, Tommy Brock and Peter Rabbett (sic) – were borrowed by Beatrix Potter who, for nearly fifty years, lived nearby at 2 Bolton Gardens.
1840 – Nunhead Cemetery
Despite the magnificent vista from the North Gate entrance to Thomas Little’s octagonal Anglican Chapel, this is very much the poor relation of the seven although, after years of neglect – and the destruction by vandals of many important monuments – the cemetery has now been restored and reopened. It is today a wonderful, ivy-draped Gothic landscape, full of atmosphere and carved angels, and rich in symbolic reminders of the Victorians’ near obsession with the furniture of death.
There are, for example, dozens of broken columns and inverted torches, both emblems signifying lives cut short, while on the main gate piers representations of the Egyptian ouroboros – a snake swallowing its tail – conversely hint at the eternity of existence. Draped urns similarly indicate that the deceased was the master of his house, while weeping angels provide an echo of ancient times when the living would have been paid to stand and weep beside the tombs of the rich. Stepped monuments are a subtle reminder of the departing soul’s three steps to Heaven, and traditional trefoil designs a more obvious reference to the Holy Trinity.
1841 – Tower Hamlets Cemetery
With more than 350,000 burials, Tower Hamlets has by far the largest proportion of so-called public graves, ones set aside for those who could not afford any kind of funeral. Within ten years of its opening, these accounted for four-fifths of burials here, the plots remaining the property of the cemetery company amidst rumours that paupers were being buried up to 40 ft deep and with thirty to a grave.
If nothing else, the thought is a chilling reminder of the reality of life and death in the Victorian East End, and it was perhaps inevitable that eventually the cemetery would be taken into public ownership when its commercial viability faltered for want of a better-heeled clientele. Vandals, neglect and wartime bombing have since taken a dreadful toll on both its chapels – Early English for the Anglicans, Byzantine for the non-conformists – and, sadly, on most of the memorials as well. Today, it is a melancholy place, and not in a good way.
NOT QUITE DEAD
Londoners (real and honorary) who got to read their own obituaries:
Mark Twain
A resident of Tedworth Square, Chelsea, during which time he accompanied the Prince of Wales on the first ever Central Line train journey, author Mark Twain – real name Samuel Clemens – was twice confronted by his own mortality. Consequently, he is as famous now for his quip that any reports of his death were an exaggeration as for any line in The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn or The Adventures of Tom Sawyer.
The confusion first arose in 1897 when a journalist enquired after his health. In fact, it was his cousin who was dangerously ill. Twain recounted the incident in an edition of the New York Journal and used that celebrated, much quoted line. In the event, he lived another thirteen years, eventually dying at the age of seventy-four in Redding, Connecticut.
Alice Cooper
As long as there has been pop, its stars have upheld the tradition of dying young, and in the 1970s Cooper must have looked like a prime candidate. It was therefore more in sadness than surprise that a report of his death was published by the music newspaper Melody Maker from its Stamford Street office overlooking the Thames.
In fact, the whole thing was meant to be a joke, a mock obituary written as a satirical comment on one of Cooper’s less successful concerts. Thousands of fans fell for it, however, but were soon to receive reassurance from an official statement from the singer stating categorically that he was ‘alive, and drunk as usual’.
Alan Whicker
Even worse than reading you are dead must be reading that you never amounted to much anyway. Such was the fate of Richmond resident Alan Whicker who, in conversation with Michael Parkinson, told how during the Korean War he had been reported ‘killed in action’ while flying with the Army behind enemy lines.
The report confused Whicker’s little Piper Cub with one that had crashed to the ground nearby. Telling Parky about it years later, he was pretty matter-of-fact, saying, ‘“Alan Whicker, war correspondent of Exchange Telegraph, unfortunately was shot down . . .” And then a little bit about my lack of achievement.’
Paul McCartney
The fact that his simple lack of shoes on the cover of Abbey Road was enough to convince the faithful that Macca was dead is perhaps less surprising when one learns that rumours about his death had been circulating long before the album was released in 1969.
In fact, the first seems to have surfaced three years earlier in a call to WKNR-FM radio in Detroit. This was picked up by a New York station shortly afterwards, and although the DJ was promptly fired, the rumour sparked several theories that John, George and Ringo had already hired a lookalike to fill the gap.
Ian Dury
In 1998, Bob Geldof hosted a radio show on Xfm and was tipped for a Sony award despite being described by the NME as ‘the world’s worst DJ’. In particular, the paper was unimpressed with the way he had announced Dury’s death live on air – well over a year before the veteran rocker finally passed on.
The cause is thought to have been an ill-informed call from a listener, as Dury was ill at the time and had been diagnosed with cancer. However, he continued performing into 2000, although for his last performance (at the London Palladium) he had had to be helped on to and off the stage
.
Dave Swarbrick
In April 1999, the Daily Telegraph published an obituary after the New Malden-born folk musician and Fairport Convention stalwart was admitted to hospital in the Midlands with a serious chest infection. Lengthy and full of praise for the singer-songwriter’s talents, it was nevertheless highly premature as ‘Swarb’ continues regularly to gig well over a decade later.
It must have been a shock – before a double lung transplant he had a history of chest problems, and was confined to a wheelchair – but the performer rose to the occasion and was reported by the BBC as having noted, ‘It’s not the first time I have died in Coventry.’
Ernest Hemingway
The author met his fourth and final wife in London, and although he was destined to die by his own hand in 1961, the pair were involved in numerous car, ski and ’plane crashes in the early 1950s. In one of the latter, Hemingway sustained a serious head injury, and was reported dead by several US newspapers.
Never quite recovering, his injuries affected him for the rest of his life, and his drinking, already heavy, intensified as he fought the pain. Hemingway remained haunted by the incidents and reportedly read a scrapbook containing the obituaries every morning whilst drinking a glass of champagne.
Last Word – London Epitaphs
‘Sacred to the Memory of Major James Brush who was killed by the accidental discharge of a pistol by his orderly 14th April 1831 – Well done, o good and faithful servant.’
St Mary Magdalene, Woolwich.
‘Aged 207 years. Holywell Street. Thomas Cam.’
Burial Register, St Leonard’s, Shoreditch.
‘Tho: Parr Of Ye County Of Sallop. Borne In Ad: 1483. He Lived In Ye Reignes Of Ten Princes Viz: K.Edw.4. K.Ed.5. K.Rich.3. K.Hen.7. K.Hen.8. K.Edw.6. Q.Ma. Q.Eliz. K.Ja. & K.Charles. Aged 152 Yeares & Was Buryed Here Novemb. 15 1635.’
Westminster Abbey.
‘Here lyeth wrapped in clay The body of Wiliam Wray. I have no more to say.’
St Michael’s, Crooked Lane, City of London.
‘Exit Burbage, 1619.’
St Leonard’s, Shoreditch.
____________
1 The Albert Memorial is particularly good in this regard. It includes granite from the Mountains of Mourne, Cornwall and Mull, Welsh slate, Blue John from the Peak District, new red sandstone, the inevitable Portland stone in various different shades, Carrara marble for the famous friezes, and numerous fossils in its Derbyshire stone paving slabs.
8
Royal London
‘Like all the best families, we have our share of eccentricities, of impetuous and wayward youngsters and of family disagreements.’
HM Queen Elizabeth II
What They Do When They’re Not Being Royal
HM The Queen
Besides her famous corgis and dorgis, the Queen is a keen pigeon fancier in her spare time, with more than 250 birds of her own. Each has a leg ring, clearly marked with the royal monogram ‘ER’, but sadly this was not enough to prevent one of Her Majesty’s favourites being attacked and eaten by a sparrowhawk during training for the 2005 St Malo to Malvern race.
Like her late sister Princess Margaret (who, on several occasions, won small prizes in regular competitions set by the magazine Country Life), the Queen likes doing crosswords and jigsaw puzzles. She is also a fan of the Beatles’ film Yellow Submarine, which she saw four times when it first opened, and likes to wash up once a year following a family barbecue at Balmoral.
Most unroyal moment: being ticked off by her own sister who, on being told to behave herself, replied, ‘You look after your Empire, and I’ll look after my life.’
HRH The Duke of Edinburgh
Horse racing might be the sport of kings but, unlike his wife, daughter-in-law and late mother-in-law, the Duke of Edinburgh has always preferred cricket. Because of this, he has been known to wear a special top hat to the racecourse, one equipped with a concealed radio receiver enabling him to keep up with the score.
As well as sporting an uncharacteristically trendy black suede dinner jacket in the 1960s (and, on one occasion, jeans with the price tag still attached), the Duke of Edinburgh conceived a passion for cooking his own sausages at the breakfast table. Eventually he had to stop, however, when the Queen took exception to the smell permeating through the Palace.
On marrying, he also gave up cigarettes.
Most unroyal moment: being voted ‘Best Dictator for Britain’ ahead of Enoch Powell and Harold Wilson in a poll of Daily Telegraph readers, and asking a Scottish driving instructor, ‘How do you keep the natives off the booze long enough to pass the test?’
HM George VI
The Queen’s father was known to enjoy running the projector backwards when he watched home cine films. Apparently, he found it particularly funny when the film included swimmers exiting the pool feet first and ending up on the diving board. (The sight of pigs walking backwards is also funnier than you might think.)
George VI was also the first reigning monarch to watch a motor race – the 1950 British Grand Prix at Silverstone – but generally preferred quieter pursuits and did not repeat the experience. Skilled at embroidery, he presented his wife with a dozen petit-point chair covers for her to use at Royal Lodge Windsor, and, like William IV, George IV and Edward VII – and indeed his brother, Edward VIII – he was an active freemason.
Most unroyal moment: in 1945, His Majesty asked President Truman for his autograph.
HM Edward VII
Queen Victoria’s eldest son so enjoyed watching buildings on fire that he ordered his own fireman’s uniforms so he could do it incognito. These were kept at Chandos Street in the West End, and Watling Street in the City, and, afterwards, he liked to go for a plate of tripe in Tottenham Court Road.
An enthusiastic ten-pin bowler and a fine shot (he had a lane installed at Sandringham, and the world’s largest game larder), Edward was also a big fan of snowball fights. Never shy of stealing the royal advantage, he would insist that guests at his Norfolk estate stand stock still while he and his children pelted them with snowballs.
Most unroyal moment: being besieged by moneylenders at a hotel in Paris when a newspaper revealed the true extent of his debts.
HM Edward VIII
A lifetime sucker for funny accents, as Prince of Wales Edward VIII routinely spoke a kind of mockney so that he pronounced the word ‘lady’ to rhyme with ‘tidy’. Knowing this annoyed his father enormously, he also adopted his American wife’s pronunciation to become the ‘Dook’ of Windsor and referred to children as ‘kids’ throughout his book, A Family Album.
Edward was also unusually musical for a member of the Royal Family, but had a habit of picking instruments that annoy a lot of people such as the banjo, bagpipes and ukelele. It was also his habit of wearing a grey top hat rather than a black one that set the fashion for Ascot that still persists.
Most unroyal moment: His Royal Highness used ungrammatically to invite friends to accompany ‘the Duchess and I’ after his abdication, and was once heard telling the conductor to ‘Hurry it up, man’ during a performance of the ‘National Anthem’.
HM Queen Victoria
Queen Victoria was a demon card-player, as good at it as she was keen, and insisted that anyone who lost a hand to her settle their debts immediately. Because she would accept only newly minted coins for this, her tendency to win meant a ready supply of new money had to be kept at the Palace at all times.
At least prior to her widowhood, Her Majesty was also a keen traveller and would take tiny marble carvings of her many children’s hands wherever she went. The Queen commissioned a similar sculpture of her beloved Prince Albert’s ‘sweet little ear’, and following his early death made sure that this much treasured keepsake was always close at hand.
Most unroyal moment: being caught drawing her royal cipher ‘VRI’ on dusty furniture at Windsor Castle, and having her claret pepped up with whisky.
HRH The Prince of Wales
Once
a small boy like any other, Prince Charles amassed quite a collection of cheap plastic models from cereal packets. He would reportedly get jolly upset if the staff at Buckingham Palace refused to open a new box of cereal – so he could have the toy immediately – before the contents of the last one had been finished.
Later in life, he acquired two miniature chastity belts and a considerable number of toy trolls of the sort that were fashionable among children in the 1960s. In London, these were arranged on the chimneypieces of his various private apartments, but his first wife Diana did not share his enthusiasm for them and they were packed away following their marriage.
HM George V
Even his official biographer admitted that, though a wise old king, George V ‘did nothing at all but kill animals and stick in stamps’ – but of the latter he was a shrewd collector who bought extremely well. Now owned by the Queen, his 325 albums are thought to comprise the most valuable collection of their kind in the world.
In 1904, Sir Arthur Davidson, variously equerry to Victoria, Edward VII and George, telephoned the king to tell him that some ‘damned fool has given as much as £1,400 for a single stamp’. Equivalent to more than £125,000 in today’s money, the king hung up after telling Davidson ‘that damned fool was me’.
Most unroyal moment: falling through the wicker seat of a chair as he was about to make his Christmas broadcast to the nation, and having ‘Daisy, Daisy (A Bicycle Built for Two)’ played at his wedding.