graves | Life in the English Cotswolds

As any dog owner will tell you there is something very special when you develop a close relationship with an animal. They provide comfort and company, they are forgiving and unquestioningly loyal and, if you’re that way inclined, they keep your feet warm at night. But it isn’t just dogs that we become devoted to, for cat owners will tell you the same, as do the owners of other types of pet. People that keep horses rarely, it seems, talk of any other subject (we’ve been a bit guilty of that in the past!) but, and however unlikely this seems to some of us, people form close relationships with cows, tortoises and pretty well any other creature, furry or not.

*Thopas, one of several Scottish Deerhound*s – *and a much younger version of me!*

Recently we have lost our much-loved lurcher, Twist, after a short illness. She was the last of a long line of lurchers and deerhounds that I have owned (or more accurately, have owned me) since being given my first well over fifty years ago. Taurus, named after my birth sign for he was a 21^st birthday gift, was a deerhound x sheepdog and so had brains as well as speed. Occasionally he would be used to work sheep on a friend’s Exmoor farm and he would cover the rough terrain so quickly that he had to learn to realise that sheep couldn’t run as fast as he would like them to. When he died back in the early 80s I, as I did with all the subsequent dogs, buried him carefully in our garden. Although many people would find doing that quite hard, I found that it was comforting knowing that this was the last thing I could do for them, a sort of parting gift. However, this blog isn’t going to be allowed to dip into sadness for it is a celebration of their and other people’s pets lives, and more especially so about the small, private pet cemeteries that people have created over centuries.

*Twist,my last lurcher, left & Taurus, my first, right*

I first came across a pet cemetery in a shaded corner of a garden of a large country house where I was Head Gardener. I’d not really thought about such a thing before but here were rows of stone markers most with names and dates dating back decades. Enquiry found that they were, without exception, black or golden labradors, working gundogs as well as much-loved family members. It was a quiet place, not much visited and easily unnoticed other than by those that remembered them. The second cemetery was when I worked for another large country estate but this time, the pets, mostly dogs were of all sorts of breeds – spaniels, labradors and mongrels. This time, however, it was a prominent feature for the owners wanted to be readily visible. The plaque on the wall above the individual names had, I thought a rather lovely sentiment.

*Half-hidden by shade but not forgotten – the first pet cemetery I cam across*

*“Here lie old friends who asked so little and gave so much”*

Pet cemeteries were always small, private affairs for only the wealthiest could afford to honour their pets in this way. With the rising of a more affluent middle class and a growing sentimentality towards animals in general, the Victorians wished to do the same for their pets as they would do for any other family member. The first cemetery came about more by chance when a dog named Cherry was buried in the garden of the lodge adjacent to Hyde Park in London. Word spread, more were accepted and by the time the garden closed in 1903 there were well over a thousand pets buried there. Although now closed to the public, it is still possible to visit the cemetery on occasion.

*The pet cemetery at Hyde Park* *(photo credit: J Rennocks, CC by 4:0, Wikipedia)*

Perhaps the most memorable pet cemetery I have visited is the one found at Powerscourt in southern Ireland. The house and grounds are well worth visiting in their own right but the pet cemetery should not be missed. It is a grand affair with gravestones and even an obelisk dating back well over a hundred years. The most recent burials date from the 1960s. Yet it isn’t the obelisk that makes Powerscourt memorable, it is for the shared grave of Eugenie and Princess – perhaps the most loved and honoured cows of all time.

*The pet cemetery at Powerscourt, Ireland*

*The memorial to two much-loved cows at Powerscourt, Ireland*

I’m afraid my dogs graves are no such grand affairs for they lie unmarked but no less remembered for that. Likewise, the graves I found recently when returning to childhood haunts. Walking along the woodland edge where I once played and made summer camps, I came across more much-loved labradors (they seem to feature prominently in pet graves), obviously quite recent additions. It is good to know that the simple tradition of burying our pets in the places where they once roamed continues into the present day.

*Simple markers for faithful friends on the edge of woodland by my childhood home*

*What a view those labradors have! I roamed these fields and woodlands with Taurus, my first lurcher*

The small village of Castlelyons in Co. Cork, Ireland appeared deserted when we drove into it and as we seemed to be the only car on the road there was no fear of being run over when taking the photo below. As if to confirm its silence the main street was dominated by the ruins of an old Carmelite abbey.

Little is known of the origins of the abbey for there are few surviving written records. It is thought that it dates from the beginning of the 14^th century although the existing ruins are from a hundred years later.

The size of the nave is huge measuring over sixty feet in length and twenty in width. It is separated from the chancel by the tower which although very ruined still has its complete spiral staircase which can be climbed – but not for the faint-hearted. The chancel which is also very large (over fifty feet in length) is where the altar would have been placed. A number of grave slabs survive some of which still have visible markings.

The cloister, where the monks walked and meditated, is less complete but the turf square and parts of columns gives a sense of the place. The monastery was dissolved during the Reformation and passed into private hands. Now it is a national monument.

A mile or two from the abbey ruins is the Castlelyons Graveyard at Kill-St-Anne. At its centre is a mausoleum built about 1747. The interior is circular with just one marble monument to James Barry, Earl of Barrymore and carved in 1753. External steps lead to a crypt below.

Close to the first lies a second mausoleum, also built in the eighteenth century, for the Peard family, local landlords. Their earliest grave (dated 1683) lies elsewhere in the churchyard and commemorates Richard Peard, an ensign from Devonshire in England.

The church – or more accurately churches – lie in ruins for a more recent one was built within the original. They date from the eighteenth and fourteenth centuries respectively. The remains of the bell tower and gothic arches are from the earlier date, the elaborate stone window which are in the later ruins are reputed to have belonged to the original church. Whatever the truth of this tale, the result is beautiful and romantic.

The churchyard is a haven for wildlife and native flowers flourish beside mown paths. Beside the old cemetery is another, newer one still in use and equally well-maintained as were the old abbey ruins and the village itself. Castlelyons maybe off the beaten track but it is well worth making the effort to visit. It is rural Ireland at its very best.

Much information has been gleaned from information boards within the village and also the Castlelyons village website – link here. Apart from details of its history the website shows that despite its small size, the village social life is thriving.