The Sephardic Jewish Cemeteries at Mile End Campus
Nuevo Beth Chaim (New Cemetery) North end |
Perhaps that’s
why many people consider a 24/7 focus on death somehow ‘spooky’ or ‘macabre’.
We all must die, yet it seems people should only legitimately consider it at this
time of year, perhaps as a throwback to those old days of the Celts. Those of
us who are always discussing our
inevitable fate (such as The Chirurgeon's Apprentice, The Order of the Good Death and The Death Salon) are somehow considered morbid. What is not being
understood is that in many ways the dead benefit the living, particularly for
those of us whose careers and academic interests lie within that sphere.
I thought about
this when recently researching the Jewish Cemeteries which are based
within Queen Mary University of London’s Mile End campus – that’s right, a
University with its own cemetery.
QMUL (to which we at Barts Pathology Museum
belong) championed the cemetery as a historical resource, funded the
re-development, and even incorporated some of the foundations of the old
boundary into the floor of the new buildings (with windows down into the stone
so it can be seen by staff and students) It’s therefore obvious there is a
progressive attitude towards death here which has led to the support of this
museum’s aims in attempting to discuss these issues to a wider audience.
The Nuevo was
described by Dr Caron Lipman as telling “an important and compelling story about
the first Jewish community to settle in England during the time of Cromwell”
and as “providing a material link to one of the oldest immigrant communities to
settle in the area – the Sephardic Jews.” Again a good example of the deceased
informing the living. This can be said for any cemetery – they will always
provide a wonderful snapshot into a time and a place and shouldn’t simply be considered
a hangout for spooky goths – but I’m going to focus on ours and tell the story
of the Sephardic Jews.Very small numbers of Jews had existed in England since Norman times, but they didn’t live in communities as such and were few and far between. The official figure between 1290 and 1656 was ‘0’ since they couldn’t officially live here, although many had escaped the Iberian Peninsula where they were being forced to convert or be massacred, and had made England their home. Despite having the support of Henry VIII (who employed Jewish Scholars to look for something – anything – within religious texts that would enable him to divorce Catherine of Aragon. This was before he’d thought up the convenient method of beheading them) they still married and buried using the rites of the Church of England.
Eventually they petitioned for two basic things: the right to conduct religious ceremonies and the right to bury their dead. A heart-breaking request reads:
“And being wee ar
all mortall, wee alsoe Humbly pray your Highnesse to graunt us License that
those which may die of our nation may be buryed in such place out of the cittye
as wee shall thinck convenient…”
Velho Beth Chaim |
Nueveo Beth Chaim - South end |
In the newer cemetery, The Nuevo, 'Keepers' were eventually appointed to maintain a burial register and ensure the graves were all the correct size. However, they did have another aspect added to their job description. They were to examine the cemetery morning and evening and “..not to suffer any playing, revelling or other irregularity” and to “observe with caution if any strange person attends frequently at funerals, so as to give cause for suspicion”. No they weren’t on the lookout for Sisters of Mercy fans drinking cider in white frilly shirts at midnight – they were on the lookout for pliers of the new trade in Bodysnatching....
In April 1786 several graves had been pillaged and the cemetery keeper was also reprimanded so the logical conclusion is he may well have been in cahoots with those Resurrection Men, turning a blind eye for a few coins. The solution was to hire four new night watchmen (two Jews and two Christians) who’d work together in shifts. They were given a watch house and a new moveable hut on wheels, fitted with alarm bells, which was placed over every new grave (I initially thought they stayed near to the new grave, hidden in this wheeled hut or ‘Bodymobile’ which they would use to chase the Body Snatcher’s, alarm bells ringing, until they dropped their loot but that seems more like a scene out of a ‘Carry On Graverobbing’ film and it’s not what happened here! However, there were some ludicrous moments during this dark time of cadaver theft. Guards were dismissed after being discovered drunk on duty, or because they fell asleep. There were reports of suspicious burials happening under the curtain of night, practical jokes being played on new guards and various shenanigans. By the time the Anatomy Act of 1832 came about and had rendered bodysnatching defunct, it was decided the guards were more trouble than they were worth and they were no longer employed.
Carry On Screaming - a fun film for this time of year |
For further
information on the rich histories of these cemeteries do read Dr Caron Lipman’s
“The Sephardic Jewish Cemeteries at Queen Mary University of London” (purchase here) You’ll
learn more about the most famous inhabitants and the touching lives of the
non-famous whose stories may have disappeared into oblivion if it wasn’t for
the graves that are available for us all to see.
I’ll end then, with a
wonderful quote from a plaque which used to exist at the Nuevo . It says
“Rich and poor; just and
wicked; all as one
Cut off in God’s good time
must feel death’s sting.
Within an acre of death
their life did run.
Are, then, the living worth
considering?”