10 stops on the Northern Line

I only learnt about Cross Bones Graveyard last year but I resolved to go there as soon I had the opportunity and today, although busy, was the day - never mind that I had to travel down to Southwark (an area unfamiliar to me, being a north Londoner by descent and inclination), that it was raining cats and dogs and that I stepped in a puddle which soaked my feet at the outset.

When I tracked it down the place was simply a piece of waste land (a vacant lot in American parlance) in a back street surrounded by superannuated commercial buildings and car parks, and with trains rumbling across a railway bridge close up ahead. There's no entry to this nothing-space, it's closed off by a couple of padlocked iron gates. BUT! these gates are festooned with a riot of colourful tatters: ribbons, beads, flowers, little dolls, poems, messages and glittery favours. A simple plaque states
Cross Bones Graveyard. In medieval times this was an unconsecrated graveyard for prostitutes or 'Winchester Geese'. By the eighteenth century it had become a paupers' burial ground which closed in 1853. Here, local people have created a memorial shrine. R.I.P. The Outcast Dead.

The story of the place has been pieced together from different sources. In 1598 the historian John Snow reported
Single women were forbidden the rites of the church, so long as they continued that sinful life, and were excluded from Christian burial, if they were not reconciled before their death. And therefore there was a plot of ground called the Single Woman's churchyard, appointed for them far from the parish church.

Southwark was in the jurisdiction of the Bishop of Winchester under whose licence disreputable activities that were forbidden within the City of London were permitted. Drinking dens and brothels thrived and the women of the street were dubbed Winchester geese. When their short lives ended this was their resting place. Later the graveyard became a plague pit, a burial ground for the destitute and a source of bodies for local anatomy schools. Slums abounded and cholera raged. Victorian do-gooders forced the closure of the graveyard as 'overcharged with the dead' and the site lay vacant until the 1990s when archaeologists started a rescue dig prior to redevelopment plans. 149 skeletons were removed for analysis. One formed the basis of the TV documentary that introduced me to this place. It belonged to a teenage girl, less than 5 feet tall, whose skull showed the signs of advanced syphilis.

Over the past 10 years or so, the gates of Cross Bones Graveyard have been turned into a people's shrine. Visitors come from all over the world to add their tributes and on appointed days, Halloween especially, there are vigils, ceremonies and festivals. There is a multi-faith ethic (which includes no faith) and the graveyard attracts outsiders including sex workers and those whose sexuality or lifestyle or beliefs lead them to identify with others beyond the pale of convention or acceptability. It is an inclusive venue for the excluded.

There are plans to create a permanent memorial and a public space here. For fuller details see the Cross Bones website. And remember.

Every night and every morn
Some to misery are born.

Every morn and every night
Some are born to sweet delight

Some are born to sweet delight
Some are born to endless night

William Blake