Records - going back in time

​If you’re a regular follower, you’ll know how much I love the history and masonry detail of grave yards. If you’ve attended one of my ‘author talks’, I freely admit to wandering around them in search of names and inspiration. I spent my last birthday doing just that after I’d attended the coffin works museum in Birmingham. 
 
During lockdown 2020, a section of a headstone was dug up in the back garden. Granted, that sounds weird but the house is built on an old chapel graveyard, hence the find. It didn’t freak me out, as you might expect but instead ignited my curiosity. 
 
The disused chapel was converted into flats decades ago, so previous research had informed me that 19 gravestones were ‘removed’ from the land prior to its sale for redevelopment. Whilst living here, I’ve often thought about the families and funeral gatherings which must have taken place on the land where I park my car, tend to flowers and drink my cuppa. Anyway, the section of headstone has sat in the downstairs clock room since that day. 
 
There are two main cemeteries where I live. One local, the other further afield - which is the older of the two, dating back to the 16th century. From library records, I understand that coffins were carried through the streets to the furthest cemetery for many years before our local cemetery was created in 1870. The chapel graveyard, which is my focus, was purely for the ‘dissenters’ of the area. 
 
Last week, I visited Warwick to deliver an ‘author talk’ at the library, so I booked a session at the County Records Office. I filled out the necessary forms to view an archive treasure and was duly delivered the baptism book for the chapel. A small but hefty book, with yellowed pages, beautiful copperplate handwriting and a distinct binding, which they laid upon a protective pillow. The first entry was for a Joseph Denham born in December 1795. I nearly fell off my chair. How am I being allowed to touch the pages of this book without gloves? Though to be fair having scoured it for over an hour, I left my finger prints on every page! The final entry was Rose Ellen Page dated 1st April 1900 – which made me smile. One surprising detail for each entry was the ‘superiority’ column stating first child, second child … tenth child of the family – I’d never seen that before.
 
My next request was the burial records. Remember I’ve always been told 19 headstones, so imagine my surprise when the register is delivered and its as hefty as the chapel’s baptism book. I’m expecting to see a few pages of details, nothing more. I’m also expecting to be able to narrow down my search for who’s grave stone piece sits in the downstairs clock room, as it shows part of a date year. Not a chance! 
 
There were approximately eighty pages of details, each with six or seven burials recorded. The first few pages began by stating burial location as ‘buried on the east side of chapel yard’ and ‘buried on the north side of chapel yard’ which I assumed were details relating to the older cemetery. Suddenly the location column began stating ‘buried at (older named) cemetery’. Then it became a mixture of both ‘chapel yard’ and ‘the (older named) cemetery’ for the rest of the register. I realised my error. I flipped back to the opening pages to reread page after page of names, dates and professions ‘buried in the chapel yard’. There may have been 19 headstones but there were far more graves recorded in the chapel’s register. I was shocked and saddened to realise so many must have been unmarked. I’ve spent the last week mindful of my discovery - as they say, a little knowledge can be a dangerous thing. But it can also be a beautiful thing, a brief connection with history and a reason to replant the flower beds.