Churchyard Jottings

Philip Hunt

I am writing this column on a wet and dismal January afternoon, looking forward to slightly brighter weather when some outdoor activity in our own garden might be possible again. To an extent, this situation applies equally to our churchyards. The grass has largely gone into hibernation and regular cutting by the contractor is unlikely much before March. As such, there is less to report from the churchyards, although there are still occasional requests for information from folk tracing their family history.

Sadly, there have been quite a few funerals over the past year and a number of ashes interments have taken place in the dedicated ground in front of the memorial wall. Understandably, family members often wish to leave floral tributes to mark the location of their loved one’s ashes. These are left for as long as possible but there comes a time when they need to be removed. We are most fortunate that Linda Stevens has taken on the task of keeping an eye on all these flowers and using her discretion as to when to dispose of them. My grateful thanks go to Linda for all she does.

Over the nine years or more that I have had the role of Churchyards Representative, I have been privileged to deal with a whole range of interesting people. I have also discovered the wealth of history that resides in our churchyards viewed through the lives of people who are no longer with us. The attraction of Haslemere and its environs as an attractive place to live, at the end of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, has provided a richness that is reflected in the lives of those at rest in the churchyards. I thought that I might occasionally dig into my own modest archive of previous enquiries, to throw a little light on some of the personalities largely buried in Derby Road. What I shall not be doing, however, is sharing any sensitive or personal information.

In the Spring of 2014, I was approached by the Archivist of the Palace Theatre, Westcliff on Sea, who was seeking the location of the grave of Gertrude Mouillot. Her husband, Frederick, was an actor and later a theatrical impresario who operated a number of theatres in the late Victorian/Edwardian period. After his death in 1911 at the age of only 47, Gertrude, who herself was a former actress, continued the business. In 1920 she purchased the Palace Theatre for the sum of £25,000. It had been newly built in 1912. Her intention was to keep it open as a cinema but the steep rake of the circle seats, to provide a clear view of the stage, prevented conventional projection on to the screen. So, between the wars, the theatre mainly presented touring ballet and repertory companies and such names as Ivor Novello, John Clements and Sybil Thorndike performed there. As a result of subsequent financial troubles, the theatre suffered a period of closure and in 1942 Gertrude gifted the theatre to Southend Corporation, on the condition that it cannot be sold. The theatre continues to thrive to this day.

The grave in Derby Road was located through my records and found to be very overgrown. With the aid of secateurs and a brush, it was possible to read the inscription to both Gertrude and her husband. Gertrude died in 1961 at the age of 94. Although in her final years she had been living in a nursing home near Colchester, her wish was to be buried in Frederick’s grave in Derby Road. Further enquiries by the Archivist, with some assistance at the time from Clive Hawkins, determined that the Mouillots had lived at Whitethorns in Weydown Road. It transpired that they took out a three year lease on this large 1902 built Edwardian house in 1904 for £85 per year, with a view to purchase. After Frederick’s premature death, it seemed that the house was too big for her so Gertrude subsequently moved away.

Prior to a visit to the grave by the Archivist and others from Southend in October 2014, it was arranged for Waverley’s then contractor to carry out scrub clearance to leave the newly uncovered grave looking at its best. As can be seen from the photographs, it is rather ornate with quite intriguing decoration. There is speculation that this may have been carried out by Gertrude’s father who was a stonemason.

Something to Smile About Judgement?

This true story concerns the visit of a visiting preacher to a little village chapel… ‘He was a few minutes into his sermon when, without warning, about twenty square feet of thick and decayed Victorian plaster fell from high on one wall and crashed into a group of empty pews below. As the dense fog of dust began to settle, and it became clear no one was injured, the minister prepared to resume his sermon. Then he paused, and looked heavenward and in a slightly pained voice, asked: “Was it something I said?”

Don’t die

The vicar announced: “I am sure that you will not wish to overwork our visiting priest while I am on holiday, and will keep funerals to a minimum.”

Giving up for Lent

At the end of the pre-Lent sermon, the vicar suggested, as an example to the rest of the community, that the congregation should worship in an unheated church for the whole of Lent. As they made their way into the chill Sunday air the vicar addressed one member of the congregation, asking what she had decided to give up for Lent. “Church,” she replied firmly.