The Sheffield General Cemetery

An overgrown area of the cemetery which has yet to be cleared of ivy.


Dartford Warbler has just written an interesting post over at her blog "Where Beechmast Falls". Like me, she enjoys pottering around churchyards.

When we have been in Sheffield in the past, we have had a stroll around the Sheffield General Cemetery, which is hidden away in the heart of Sharrow. It was opened in 1836 and was then "some distance in the countryside" from the industrial heartland of Sheffield, famous for its cutlery and Sheffield steel. It was one of the earliest commercial cemeteries in Britain and has a number of buildings and monuments which are Heritage listed. It is also the site of one of the deepest single grave plots in the country, dug to contain the bodies of 85 paupers . . . what a terrible indictment on the Workhouses of the period.

It was built at a time when Garden Cemeteries were reaching the height of their popularity. The Government was keen to promote the establishment of rural or urban cemeteries, since the sudden rise in populations of major cities was putting great pressure on city churchyards, and bodies were buried with just inches between the coffins, and scarcely enough earth above them to ward off the stench of decay, whilst those buried in vaults beneath the church made services very difficult for parishioners. The garden cemeteries also gave families a chance to mourn and remember their loved ones as they perambulated through the cemetery after church on Sunday, and to enjoy what amounted to a country stroll.

Sheffield cemetery was closed for further burials in 1978m and two years later about 7,500 gravestones were removed to provide a grassy recreational area. There is now a Society which carries out educational tours and workshops, carries out essential conservation work to care for the monuments and the landscape, and helps people who are carrying out historical and geneological research. The cemetery's web page with its links to burial listings is well worth a visit.



One of the green spaces made when headstones were cleared from the site.

I photographed this splendid memorial partly for the symbolism, and partly because it commemorated a Welshman a long way from home (David Davies) and his wife.

ISH, intertwined, is the Greek monogram for Jesus Christ. (Iesous Christos). See LINK. I "think" these initials (ISH) are also the symbol of St. Monica, who represented women with abusive husbands! I'm sure Mrs Davies was totally unaware of this meaning.

My family walking along Sandford Walk, named after the minister who stumped up the money to pay for additional trees to be planted beside the pathway.



A very unusual forename - Tusting - justified recording. Other members of the Cocking family were also so named - perhaps it was originally a surname from one of the family members through marriage?

I think this was Mark Firth's monument. He was Sheffield's greatest steel baron, and who was a generous benefactor of the town. This monument is Grade II listed, and was actually erected during his lifetime, and needless to say, the wrought iron work was cast in his own foundry.

The rather splendid memorial to members of the Nicholson family, of Moordale, Sheffield.


As this information board by the abandoned Gothic-style Anglican chapel of 1850 tells, the original inspiration for the cemetery was Egypt, and the Egyptian design was chosen due to strong British trading and military links with that country. The Sheffield cemetery was the first to by built using this Egyptian design.

Perhaps the Shaws were lovers of wildlife, as the Ferns and Ivy motifs on their headstone show.

Ebernezer hall of Abbeydale Park lived to the grand old age of 90 and saw the entire Victorian era from start to finish
.





William Parker's superb memorial reflected his position in local society - pretty well near the top!


Meadow Cranesbill, such a pretty flower, and one of the many diverse wild flowers found here. It is a rich landscape supporting many different forms of wildlife. Over 30 different species of bird have been recorded including the resident Tawny owls, Sparrowhawks, Greater Spotted Woodpeckers, Nuthatches and Treecreepers, besides winter migrants such as Redwings and Waxwings.

The bur-like seed heads of Tormentil, very common herb which grows well EVERYWHERE in my garden! It has a simple yellow flower head. Here in the churchyard it grew between recumbent headstones. The name is said to derive from the Latin tormentum, allied to tummy ache and tooth ache, both of which this herb is supposed to relieve. The plant is a natural astringent, and used to be used in the tanning process.

A horsey walk

In recent months, I haven't been able to do much walking because a long-running chest infection has prevented me. Now, five doses of anti-biotics later, and on week two of a 6 week rota of doubling-up my asthma inhaler, I am able to walk happily on the flat and can manage short slopes though our hill still brings me to my knees and I have to stop several times when attempting to climb it.

I decided that I would walk for an hour or so up the valley bottom today, and get my husband to pick me up as I was heading back towards home after an hour and a quarter. The sun was out, I had my camera with me, and I thoroughly enjoyed my walk. Mind you, I didn't get as far as I expected as I lost half an hour chatting with a neighbour and making a fuss of his TB broodmares and some "mini" Shetland ponies he had about the place. It was lovely to be around horses again, though Shetlands were never a breed I was particularly enamoured of. Some of these had the cute factor though!
Two of the brood mare band and a couple of this year's foals.

Not one of my better photos . . .

Time for a mutual grooming session.


Then I walked up the valley a little way and was shown the mini Shetland. Here's the family group, with one of the yearlings having a little roll.

I didn't get the best view of this little coloured foal!

This is the stallion - a palomino Shetland is unusual - shame about the roach back though. I'd have had it gelded, colour or no . . .

In the heat of the summer sun, forty winks were the order of the day . . .

I think these two have the cuteness factor : ) Mum looks as broad as she was long! I know how she feels . . .

Sometimes it's just not worth staying awake . . .

Some people pay good money for a hairstyle this nonchalent . . .

Enjoying the sunshine.

Another of the bunch - they seem to have cornered the market in fuzzy forelocks!

A day out

We went house-hunting this week. There were three properties we had earmarked which had promise. One was just inside the Wiltshire border and looked good on paper. The garden was disappointingly small (though probably sensible, as it was "managable" in estate-agent terms) but the garage was also on the small side and as the garage ISN'T to house our car, but act as OH's workshop and firewood storage area, that was a disappointment too. But it was on a no-through road, and would have been quiet but for the echoing noise of cars on a village road which boomed across the valley . . . Hmmm.

We sped westwards for our next appointment, over the Somerset border. The house was every bit as good as it looked in the brochure, and had that feeling that only houses which have been lived in for hundreds of years, by good people, have. I could feel it positively hug me as we walked around. The view across the fields to the front was wonderful and inspiring (washing up would have taken forever as you drank in that view) and there was a superb outbuilding for OH's wood (room for the car too!) There was a pretty garden with a lovely outlook across an orchard, and it was away from roads so the cats would be safe. It was perfect - needed a little updating, but nothing too unmanagable or expensive. I'd have moved in tomorrow. Let's hope it has our name on it, but there has been a lot of interest, all from folks still praying their house will sell in time too . . .

The final house was further west still, and a doer-upper. Sadly, though it had a lot of potential, the lane beyond it was a rat-run, and the owner had lost a dog on it (not cat-friendly), the house needed a LOT of money spending on it and if I am honest, the new bungalow the owner had built on the far side of the garden was an eyesore . . .

It was late afternoon now, but we felt we would extend our day out a little and instead of heading up to the coast at Watchet, OH elected to drop back to Glastonbury, and have a stroll to stretch our legs. So that's just what we did. We bought some cheese for a car-picnic tea, and looked in estate agents' windows, wandered in a few book shops and charity shops, and then had a leisurely drive home.

We plan to have a day down in Devon soon too, so we have some viewings under our belt, just in case someone does ever offer on our house. We were caught out last time, before moving here, as we hadn't viewed any properties since the previous summer, and all of a sudden we had two people wanting to buy our house and QUICKLY, which is why, I suppose, we ended up here as it was a property we had viewed, fallen in love with and it was still on the market.

In the doorway of a Glastonbury inn . . .

Carved from wood - I think that the local chap who created Merlin for the town centre here, has the edge on these . . . Hopefully that link will work, or you will have to Google up the image yourself.

Glastonbury Tribunal - a wonderful 15th century stone townhouse, which now houses artifacts from the Glastonbury lake village of the Iron Age. Sadly, it shut at 4 p.m. and we got there too late.

One of the interesting window displays in the town.

A glimpse up a fascinating alleyway.

We assume this splendid building was originally part of the Abbey buildings as it backs onto Glastonbury Abbey grounds.

Above and below - I tried to get photos of the Somerset Levels but these views were the best I could do as I was designated driver and there were few places to pull over and take photos.



Home at last - the sun through the trees as we drove up through our valley.

Myself through a looking glass . . .

This is an idea inspired from another blog - what your possessions say about you, basically. Well, as far as interests go, cats, horses, baking, gardening are all a given. As are books really, but I do have several areas of interest. This is just a very small selection of my archaeology books. Some of my favourites there, especially the well-thumbed ECMS which was my rock whilst I was researching my Dissertation. The Picts are a particular interest of mine, and Early Christian Monuments (especially those linked to the Picts), but you will note two Welsh reference books on the same. My children always rolled their eyes and said, "Oh mum, you and your STONES!!!" I always told them, stones rock : )


My literary collection, or at least, about a third of it. Mostly biographies about Thomas Hardy here, and poet Edward Thomas, though I also have books by and about the Brontes, Dickens, Jane Austen, Mary Webb, Eden Philpotts, Trollope, and poetry books in this bookcase.


I have quite a good collection of books by and about Edward Thomas, who is my poetry hero. A fascinating man but good grief, he can't have been an easy one to live with!


Just a wee part of my 200+ cookery books. I think you should quickly see a theme going . . . Anything farmhouse/cottage/countryside orientated.

Some of my craft books. Quilt making was a passion of mine 30 years ago, but I know I don't really have the mind for colours and planning and these days I just stick to making hexagon quilts to throw about the place.

This part of my book collection is one that pleases me greatly as it comes under several areas, by author, by area, by content. It is always being added to and these books are ones which I would NEVER part with.


Some of my botany books. They are good companions and regularly referred to.

I have a "thing" about big old storage jars. The one at the front, complete with its original earthenware lid, is the most recent addition, and all are in use.

I have a small collection of Gillian McDonald limited edition prints. They remind me of Scottish holidays when the children were smaller.

I love old cottage pictures. This is one of a set of three and I still have a jigsaw puzzle (a few bits missing now) which I had as a child, showing a cottage garden scene painted by this artist, Sid Gardner.

I adore Celtic interlace. This is a design from - I think I remember rightly - the Book of Kells. My husband and I bought it when we were holidaying in Cornwall and found this at a Tintagel gift shop. The design is worked on slate.

I love old things - furniture, china, and big earthenware jars. The latter never pretend to be anything other than what they are - down to earth (and from the earth) and functional with the minimum of decoration and they link me to my "ag. lab." roots.

When my children were smaller I did a lot of x-stitch. The Quilting was an American pattern.

This picture reminded me of "home", Dorset, and such happy memories of walking in the Purbecks. My late m-in-law was once horrified to see me tucking into half a pint of prawns outside the pub in the picture (The Greyhound) as to her, prawns were what came to shore on the drowned bodies in the Scarborough of her mother's memory . . .

Spinning is something I need to get back to. I learned to spin many years back, before we moved to Wales, and then I had a 6 week course about 4 years ago. Life has rather got in the way these past couple of years



Plain hexagon patchwork. Something I can work on my lap, hand sew (which is what I like best) and pick up for 5 minutes or an evening. This is an "extension" to turn a large single quilt made for middle daughter's Uni bed into a king size quilt for our own.

I love walking down by our river as it is never the same two days running and it has such energy, even when water levels are low as they are here.

I love wild flowers. Ever since I was given the Observer's Book of Wild Flowers when I was 6 years old, I have identified them and learned more about them.

Meadowsweet.

Deep pink Valerian.

Roses of course. This is a beauty from Haddon Hall.

Kiftsgate back at home, against a glowering sky. It has finally reached the top of the Hawthorn tree and given it a silver crown to wear. Paul's Himalayan Musk to its left.


Historic old houses, of course. Haddon Hall below and above is the last working snuff factory in the country, in Sheffield.