A Royal Hallowe'en, Ghosts and Cemeteries of the 19th Century

A somewhat supernatural theme to today’s post with it being Hallowe’en. First of all, if you’ve ever wondered what kind of thing the Victorian Royal Family did for Hallowe’en, wonder no more:

From The Times November 4th 1879:
HALLOWE'EN AT BALMORAL. - On Friday night this festival was celebrated at Balmoral Castle with weird effect. The Queen and Princess Beatrice remained interested spectators till the close. Two large processions, picturesquely attired, met on the Castle lawn, and Princess Beatrice lighted a great bonfire. A body of gorgeously dressed figures with a band of music then appeared. Subsequently a witch was tried and condemned, and an effigy burnt. Afterwards there was a “witch hunt”. The Queen took great interest in the proceedings, which closed with drinking Her Majesty's health and singing the National Anthem. The weather was particularly favourable for full effect being given to display.

Which sounds fun, and is a nice little insight I think. Continuing in the “spirit” of all things spooky, another article from The Times, this time from 1885, relating to the rather comical sounding capture of a ‘ghost’ in Derby;

The Times, September 29th 1885:

CAPTURE OF A GHOST. - For several weeks past considerable excitement has been caused in various outlying districts of Derby by a report that a ghost had been observed. It would appear that a number of young men had been acting the ghost, their modus operandi being to envelope themselves in a white sheet at certain times and to appear and disappear with wonderful rapidity. The effect had been to frighten a number of females and children. Many complaints had been lodged with the police authorities and steps had been taken with a view to arrest the ghosts. On Sunday night at about half-past 9 o'clock a young fellow named Frank Gray, a member of the Derby Volunteers, was proceeding along an out-of-the-way place in the town known as Darley-grove, when he noticed some white object hanging partially over an entrance gate to a field. Gray, without hesitation, advanced and, seizing the ghost, called upon him to say who he was. As he would not speak Gray struck him in the face. Thereupon the ghost threw aside the sheet and pulling out a loaded pistol threatened to shoot him. Gray, however, immediately seized the pistol, and, after fully recognizing the ghost, allowed him his liberty. The police were at once informed of the occurrence, the result being that a lad named Christopher Burrows, 16 or 17 years of age, an errand-boy, was apprehended yesterday morning, charged with presenting the pistol at Gray to prevent his apprehension. The chief constable informed the Bench that this sort of thing had been going on for some weeks and that the police had had no end of trouble in the matter. He was not prepared to go into the case that day and applied for a remand, which was granted

One suspects that if this had been a modern story the “ghost” would have been lucky just to get a punch in the face…

Amidst the horror today, and the reading of such classics by Shelley, Stoker or Stephenson that may be going on, if that kind of literature interests you and you wish to get into the spirit of Victorian stories of horror &c then it’s a good idea to check out Lee Jackson's Victorian London website and have a good read through some of the digitized penny dreadful’s in “The Mysteries of London”, a long running series of shocking tales from the 1840’s by G. W. M Reynolds. (The ones about the Resurrectionists are my favourite) A direct link to the Mysteries of London page is here

Also, a new blog entitled "Therein Hangs a Tale - A Historical Compendium of the Dark and Macabre" has just gone online, the link to which is here and also on the front page of this blog. The first posting explores the terrifying phenomenon of premature burial, or being buried alive - an excellent read for this particular holiday!

And finally, some people find them spooky, some don’t, but often they are portrayed in fiction as haunted places, but I find cemeteries - particularly those of the Victorian "Magnificent Seven" in London I have visited to be extremely peaceful and beautiful places, especially when visited at this time of year when the leaves are changing colour, falling and carpeting the ground. 

I have put links to the websites of each cemetery beneath the descriptions, should you wish to know more or plan a visit. Here are a few Victorian cemeteries.

THE SOUTH METROPOLITAN AND NORWOOD CEMETERY was consecrated Dec. 6, 1837 the chapels, by Tite, in the pointed style, are very beautiful; and the grounds are hilly, and picturesquely planted. South Metropolitan / West Norwood 

HIGHGATE AND KENTISH TOWN CEMETERY, consecrated May 20, 1839, lies immediately below Highgate Church. It has a Tudor gate-house and chapel, and catacombs of Egyptian architecture; the ground is laid out in terraces, tastefully planted; and the distant view of the overgrown Metropolis, from among the tombs, is suggestive to a meditative mind. Highgate

ABNEY PARK CEMETERY and Arboretum, lying eastward, at Stoke-Newington,

was opened by the Lord Mayor, May 20, 1840. It was formed from the Park of Sir Thomas Abney, the friend of Dr. Isaac Watts, to mark whose thirty-six years' residence here a statue of the Doctor, by Baily, R.A., was erected in 1845. The Abney mansion was taken down in 1844; many of the fine old trees remain. Abney Park 

WESTMINSTER AND WEST OF LONDON CEMETERY, Earl's Court, Fulham-road, was consecrated June 15, 1840; it has a domed chapel, with semi-circular colonnades of' imposing design. In the grounds is a large altar-tomb, with athlete figures, modeled by Baily, and erected by subscription, to Jackson the pugilist. Brompton (Formerly Westminster & West London 

(All above from John Timbs’ Curiosities of London, 1867)

THE GLASGOW NECROPOLIS, was intended to be interdenominational and the first burial in 1832 was that of a Jew, Joseph Levi, a jeweller. In 1833 the first Christian burial was of Elizabeth Miles, stepmother of the Superintendent, George Mylne.

After 1860, the first extensions east and south were to take up the Ladywell quarry and in 1877 and 1892/3, the final extensions to the north and south-east were constructed, doubling the size of the cemetery. The Necropolis is now 37 acres (15 ha).

50,000 burials have taken place at the Necropolis and most of 3,500 tombs have been constructed up to 14 feet deep, with stone walls and brick partitions. On the top of the Necropolis tombs were blasted out of the rockface.

In 1877 the Molendinar Burn, running under the Bridge of Sighs, was culverted. This burn in which St Mungo was said to have fished for salmon is now underground on its way to the Clyde. Glasgow Necropolis

BROOKWOOD CEMETERY, In 1850 Parliament ordered the closure of the more crowded churchyards in London, and a search was commissioned for a new site of sufficient size and splendour to serve the burial needs of the Metropolis for at least 500 years. To meet these demanding requirements Brookwood Cemetery was created, and, after incorporation by Royal Act of Parliament in 1852, it acquired more than 2,000 acres of land from the Earl of Onslow just 25 miles from the centre of London at Woking in Surrey.

A distinguishing feature of Brookwood Cemetery was the cemetery railway. The London & South Western Railway was engaged to convey coffins and mourners from a private station adjacent to Waterloo down into the Cemetery. At Brookwood there were two stations, one for the Nonconformist sections, the other for the Anglican areas. The funeral trains stopped running after the private London terminus was bombed in April 1941.

Brookwood Cemetery

Whatever you are doing this evening, be it visiting atmospheric cemeteries, reading Victorian or modern horror literature or dressing up as ghosts and ghouls (beware local would-be heroes!) have a pleasant Hallowe'en!

Dreadful Accident on the Tay Bridge...

I feel that most of the posts on this blog so far have been heavily linked to London, as that is my main area of Victorian interest and I live fairly close to the capital. But, today I am spreading my wings a little, and looking into one of the darkest days in the recent history of Scotland – and indeed, Britain – the Tay Bridge Disaster.

When it was built in 1878, the Tay Rail Bridge that spanned the Firth of Tay between Dundee and Wormit in Scotland, was considered a marvel of engineering. Designed by architect, Thomas Bouch, the bridge was fabricated using ten million bricks, four thousand tons of cast iron and fifteen thousand casks of cement.

However, eighteen months after the marvelous bridge opened, on the stormy night of December 28^th 1879 the bridge collapsed as a passenger train crossed it, plunging into the freezing Firth of Tay and killing all 75 people on board.

The exact cause of the collapse has never been discovered, though, at the time Bouch – who had received a knighthood upon the bridge’s completion – was heavily criticized for not allowing for strong enough winds when designing the bridge, for allowing poor quality girders to be used in the construction (there was some evidence that imperfect castings were disguised from the (very inadequate) quality control inspection) These were tested for the Inquiry by David Kirkaldy and proved to break at only about 20 long tons rather than the expected load of 60 long tons, causing the entire mid-section of the bridge to become destabilized during the storm and indeed recent research has suggested that the cast iron used on parts of the structure was too soft.

Below is the disaster as reported in The Times the following day:

Dreadful Accident on the Tay Bridge

Loss of Passenger Train

Dundee, Sunday Midnight

To-night a heavy gale swept over Dundee and a portion of the Tay bridge was blown down while a train from Edinburgh due at 7.15 was passing. It is believed that the train is in the water, but the gale is still so strong that a steamboat has not yet been able to reach the bridge. The train was duly signalled from Fife as having entered the bridge at 7.14. It was seen running along the rails, and then suddenly was observed a flash of fire. The opinion was that the train left the rails, and went over the bridge. Those who saw the incident repaired immediately to the Tay-bridge station at Dundee and informed the station master of what they had seen. He immediately put himself in communication with the man in charge of the signal-box at the north end of the bridge. The telegraph wires are stretched across the bridge, but when the instrument was tried it was soon seen that the wires were broken.

Mr. Smith, the station-master and Mr. Roberts, locomotive superintendent, determined, notwithstanding the fierce gale, to walk across the bridge as far as possible from the north side, with the view of ascertaining the extent of the disaster. They were able to get out a considerable distance, and the first thing that caught their eye was the water spurting from a pipe which was laid across the bridge for the supply of Newport, a village on the south side, from the Dundee reservoirs. Going a little further, they could distinctly see by the aid of the strong moonlight that there was a large gap in the bridge caused by the fall, so far as they could discern, of two or three of the largest spars. They thought, however, that they observed a red light on the south part of the bridge, and were of the opinion that the train had been brought to a standstill on the driver noticing the accident. This conjecture has, unfortunately, been proved incorrect. At Broughtyferry, four miles from the bridge, several mail bags have come ashore, and there is no doubt that the train is in the river. No precise information as to the number of passengers can be obtained, but it is variously estimated at from 150 to 200.

The Provost and a number of leading citizens of Dundee started at half-past 10 o'clock in a steam-boat for the bridge, the gale being moderated; but they have not yet returned.

Monday, 1.30 A.M.

The scene at the Tay-bridge station to-night is simply appalling. Many thousand persons are congregated around the buildings, and strong men and women are wringing their hands in despair. On the 2d of October 1877, while the bridge was in course of construction, one of the girders was blown down during a gale similar to that of to-day, but the only one of the workmen lost his life. The return of the steamboat is anxiously awaited.

The Times, 29th December 1879

In an enquiry held to establish the cause of the collapse, clear evidence was heard that the central structure had been deteriorating for months before the accident. The maintenance inspector, Henry Noble, claims that he heard the joints of the wrought-iron tie-bars "chattering" a few months after the bridge opened in June 1878, a sound indicating that the joints had loosened. Noble did not attempt to re-tighten the joints, but hammered shims (thin sheets) of iron between them in an attempt to stop the rattling.
However, the problem continued until the collapse of the High Girders. It indicated that the centre section was unstable to lateral movement, something observed by painters working on the bridge in the summer of 1879. Passengers on north-bound trains complained about the strange motion of the carriages, but this was, apparently, ignored by the bridge's owners, the North British Railway.

Tay Bridge Today

The Lord Provost of Dundee had reportedly timed trains on the bridge, and found they were travelling at about 40 mph – well in excess of the official limit of 25 mph.

The enquiry destroyed Bouch's professional reputation, and the contract for the new Forth Bridge was awarded to William Arrol & Co. using designs by Benjamin Baker and John Fowler. Bouch died within a year of the disaster.

To this day, the collapse of the Tay Bridge remains the worst structural disaster in British history, and the lessons learned from it proved a major influence on the way bridges were built afterwards – particularly the replacement Tay Bridge which was built alongside the remains of the original – and the much larger Forth Rail Bridge near Edinburgh.

On the picture above can be seen the re-built Tay Bridge, the foundations of the old bridge run alongside the new in a fitting tribute to its predecessor.

The last word on this subject I will allow to the Scottish poet William McGonagall, who, in 1880 wrote a poem about the tragedy. Although he states there were 90 victims, there were only 75.

The Tay Bridge Disaster

Beautiful Railway Bridge of the Silv'ry Tay!
Alas! I am very sorry to say
That ninety lives have been taken away
On the last Sabbath day of 1879,
Which will be remember'd for a very long time.

'Twas about seven o'clock at night,
And the wind it blew with all its might,
And the rain came pouring down,
And the dark clods seem'd to frown,
And the Demon of the air seem'd to say-
"I'll blow down the Bridge of Tay."

When the train left Edinburgh
The passengers' hearts were light and felt no sorrow,
But Boreas blew a terrific gale,
Which made their hearts for to quail,
And many of the passengers with fear did say-
"I hope God will send us safe across the Bridge of Tay."

But when the train came near to Wormit Bay,
Boreas he did loud and angry bray,
And shook the central girders of the Bridge of Tay
On the last Sabbath day of 1879,
Which will be remember'd for a very long time.

So the train sped on with all its might,
And Bonnie Dundee soon hove in sught,
And the passengers' hearts felt light,
Thinking they would enjoy themselves on the New Year,
With their friends at home they lov'd most dear,
And wish them all a happy New Year.

So the train mov'd slowly along the Bridge of Tay,
Until it was about midway,
Then the central girders with a crash gave way,
And down went the train and passengers into the Tay!
The Storm Fiend did loudly bray,
Because ninety lives had been taken away,
On the last Sabbath day of 1879,
Which will be remember'd for a very long time.

As soon as the catastrophe came to be known
The alarm from mouth to mouth was blown,
And the cry rang out all o'er the town,
Good Heavens! the Tay Bridge is blown down,
And a passenger train from Edinburgh,
Which fill'd all the peoples hearts with sorrow,
And made them for to turn pale,
Because none of the passengers were sav'd to tell the tale
How the disaster happen'd on the last Sabbath day of 1879,
Which will be remember'd for a very long time.

It must have been an awful sight,
To witness in the dusky moonlight,
While the Storm Fiend did laugh, and angry did bray,
Along the Railway Bridge of the Silv'ry Tay,
Oh! ill-fated Bridge of thSilv'ry Tay,
I must now conclude my lay
By telling the world fearlessly without the least dismay,
That your central girders would not have given way,
At least many sensible men do say,
Had they been supported on each side with buttresses,
At least many sensible men confesses,
For the stronger we our houses do build,
The less chance we have of being killed.

For a far more detailed and informative read about the disaster, see this website, which gives lots of details about the investigation too.

Also, if you prefer to read upon paper than on screen, then try these:

High Girders: Tay Bridge Disaster, 1879 by John Prebble,

The Bridge is Down: Dramatic Eye-witness Accounts of the Tay Bridge Disaster: of 1879 as Reported in Transcripts of the Public Enquiry by Andre Gren,

Beautiful Railway Bridge of the Silvery Tay: Reinvestigating the Tay Bridge Disaster of 1879  by Peter R Lewis