Brookwood Revisited

Another fabulously sunny day here yesterday so I decided to go have a mooch around a wonderfully gothic cemetery just 15 minutes drive from where I live.


Brookwood, (the London Necropolis) was originally purchased as a 2,000 acre plot by the government in the late 19th century to accommodate the overspill from London cemeteries following the closure of several overcrowded metropolitan graveyards in 1850. A special station was set up adjacent to Waterloo, and bodies from the capital were transported by rail once a day to two terminus' - Non Conformist and Anglican - from where they were dispatched to the appropriate burial ground. For a long time it was thought to be the largest burial ground in the world, the grounds of which were landscaped with plants and shrubs from Kew Gardens, but I think that's no longer the case although there is some dispute as to whether it still remains the biggest in Western Europe.



I've been visiting Brookwood since first being taken there by my father in my teens and it remains a source of constant fascination to me; it's so large I'm still making new discoveries. When I first started visiting it was in a state of overgrown decay - I wish I'd been interested in photography then as I'm sure there were some magnificent photos for the taking. I believe it's now in private ownership and is being gradually reclaimed from the wilderness. Burials of all denominations still take place within the grounds but it's really the older part of the cemetery that appeals to me, resplendent in it's state of gloomy decay.



Sadly Brookwood has been subjected to it's fair share of mindless vandalism as this gorgeous monument bears testament to;



I've been photographing it over several years and everytime I go back it seems in a worse state of decay than on my previous visit. The heavy frosts and the snow have undoubtedly hastened it's demise;



Everywhere you walk there are headstones set all higgldy piggldy;



or sunken into the earth;



poignant reminders of lives previously led. Who, for example, were Blanche, Francis, Alexander, Jeanie, Edith Mary, Maud Agnes and the enigmatic A.J.E who seems to have tragically died at the tender age of just four months,



Their names are etched on this, one of my most favourite headstones in the cemetery but I know absolutely nothing about them. Where, for instance is the resting place of Jane, wife of Alexander, mother of little A.J.E. Was Jeanie, his second wife perhaps? So many questions which remain unanswered, perhaps it's better left that way?