Mendip Hospital Cemetery

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Friends of the Mendip Hospital Cemetery, Gilbert Scott, harp, Lady's bedstraw, Mendip Hospital, Mendip Hospital Cemetery, Peter Jaggard, Rees Mogg

On Christmas Day last year I took a walk around the old Mendip Hospital, South Horrington, near Wells, now converted into luxury flats, and wrote it up. At the time I regretted that I had been unable to find out much of its history, but had found something on the hospital’s cemetery, now a nature reserve, and wanted to visit it one day, the Friends of the Mendip Hospital Cemetery opening it to the public on summer Sundays. I finally got around to doing so yesterday, the hottest day of the year so far. I read up on its history again.

The right-hand red dot in the picture above is Peter Jaggard, Chair of the Friends. We had a brief chat before I wandered round the reserve, and a much longer one afterwards, before I went into the chapel to find out more about ‘it’s history’, which I took to be that of the cemetery.

Lady’s Bedstraw

There were very few headstones, which cost more money than could (or would) be found by relatives, if indeed there were any relatives known. In the early days, graves were not marked at all. After a while a numbered metal marker was used to mark each grave. However, although the names of every person buried there is known, is is not possible to identify which marker belongs to each person. The markers were moved and gathered in clumps together long before the Friends became responsible for the cemetery.

There were a few wood sculptures around the reserve. I learned later that all had been carved by one member, Peter Bolton, and each from the trunk of a dead tree, some still rooted in the ground, carved on the spot.

I think this may be a spindle tree.

As I walked around, I was aware of harp music in the otherwise very peaceful setting. It was irritating me a little, (only on principle, as the sound was gentle), just as recorded music for tourists in some large churches does. But I became aware that there was some stopping and starting and that therefore it was live, possibly someone practising in a garden in one of the surrounding houses, which changed my attitude entirely. I drew nearer to the sound.

I was tempted to go up to the harpist and chat, mindful of how I had been so taken by the harp in the Grantown-on-Spey Museum two years previously. But I decided to to leave her alone, and continued my stroll.

Beyond the lower wall, there was a long smooth patch of lawn. I learned later that it was part of Wells Cathedral School’s playing fields.

I zoomed right in to one end and saw these youngsters perfecting their penalty skills.

I identified the bungalow I had considered buying when I moved to the area ten years previously.

This would have been approximately the view from the bottom of my garden had I done so. The house had come second on my shortlist.

Work in progress, from a conifer.

After my long chat with the Chair, I entered the chapel. I was delighted to find that the history was not just that of the cemetery but of the Hospital as well. The Chair has done an enormous amount of research, which is ongoing, but yet to be put on line. I was a little frustrated that my ability to take in the detail of what I was seeing was limited by the misting of my glasses due to my mask. Which I probably didn’t need to put on as I was the only person in there. And it was the day before the so-called ‘Freedom Day’.

The hospital is in the middle, the cemetery lower left.

Yes, the alderman is grandfather of Jacob. (He, an Anglican, married an American Irish Catholic, and the rest is history.)

Once photography came in, a photo of every patient/inmate/resident was taken. I think these drawings of the very first male and female residents are lovely.

I was saddened to see that Sir Gilbert Scott, whose work is so beautiful, had been deemed to have fallen out of fashion at one stage.

Peter Jaggard told me that Wells Museum currently have an exhibition on on the subject of ‘The Somerset and Bath Lunatic Asylum, 1848-1918’, for just two more weeks. I shall really try to get to it – and hope that I shall be the only person there, and therefore not feel the need to wear a mask!

South Horrington

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Albert Memorial, Care in the Community, Friends of the Mendip Hospital Cemetery, Gilbert Scott, Mendip Hospital, Mendip Hospital Cemetery, Reading Gaol, Somerset and Bath Pauper Lunatic Asylum, South Horrington, St Pancras Station, Tone Vale Hospital, Wells

Christmas Day 2020, and for the first time in my life I was going to spend the whole day alone. Not a problem – but I did want to do something a bit different.

For months I had been wanting to take photos of and write a blog post on a beautiful complex of buildings a couple of miles east of the lovely cathedral city of Wells, and just 20 minutes from where I live. The sun god gave its blessing in the morning, and I drove to South Horrington, a village centred around a converted 19th century mental hospital. The hospital’s principal architect was the prolific Sir (George) Gilbert Scott, 1811-1878, known mainly for his ecclesiastical work, but who designed many workhouses and asylums in the early stages of his career. Reading Gaol, St Pancras station and the Albert Memorial all appear in his portfolio of more than 800 buildings, designed or altered.

Later known as Mendip Hospital, this complex opened as the Somerset and Bath Pauper Lunatic Asylum on 1st March, 1848. It soon filled beyond its capacity, attics were turned into dormitories, and its principal psychiatric function was transferred in 1897 to the Tone Vale Hospital near Taunton. But it continued to house long-stay elderly and mentally infirm patients, until 1991 when it was closed under the Care in the Community policy. It was then converted into ‘luxury’ flats and houses, which I discovered in 2011 when I was about to return from France and looking for somewhere to live. I did not pursue the idea of living there for a number of practical reasons, but aesthetic distaste was not among them!

I had driven round the grounds on a few occasions since, but this was the first time I had got out of my car. I parked in:

(A strangely tatty entrance panel for such a beautiful and prestigious site)

(I took this photo towards the end of my stroll, my car being parked by the ‘D’ of ‘Road’, bottom right.)

I have not been able to find the significance of the various colours, and indeed I have been able to find very little detail, historic or otherwise, about the buildings as a whole, apart from the links I have indicated. Given that Gilbert Scott designed so many such, perhaps this is not so surprising.

Looking back from where I parked,

and walking on.

The splendid entrance to the building. An apartment in here is for sale at the time of writing.

I walked clockwise around the complex.

This corner particularly appealed, though I imagine it gets little, if any, sun.

The part jutting out on the left is opposite the main entrance.

The chapel’s spire appears over a collection of houses

One of the reasons I did not, ten years ago, pursue the idea of living here was the assumption that I would not be allowed to have a cat flap in my front door. The building is Grade II listed. But, although I saw several of these notices, I saw people out walking their dogs, always on a leash.

To the Chapel without getting wet

The residences on the right appear as old as the rest of the complex, but…

The Chapel also is converted into accommodation units.

Well, maybe catflaps are allowed…

I should love to know more about the arches below, and hoped to find that there was some society interested in the history of the place. All I have found is the Friends of the Mendip Hospital Cemetery. [Later edit. I have since come across this: https://www.countyasylums.co.uk/mendip-wells/ ]

The cemetery is a mile or so away towards Wells, and I did look in 2011 at a property, the back garden of which abuts on to it. I was tempted. To have a nature reserve at my back garden would have been wonderful. There was just a lovely low stone wall between the bottom of the sloping garden and the cemetery, and wonderful views beyond the it to distant wooded hills. But the house needed too much work.

Towards the end of my walk, I got chatting with this couple (with dog!). They had lived in South Horrington, at three different addresses, for 20 years. They loved it, and they particularly extolled the walks there were in various directions, including Wells city just 20 minutes away.

Completing the circuit to my car took me along a footpath and past Fire Engine Cottage.

And for some silly reason I took a selfie.

Here’s wishing you a much happier New Year!

Tate Modern

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Bankside Power Station, Blackfriars, Blavatnik, Dora Maurer, Fons Americans, Gilbert Scott, Giles Gilbert Scott, Haegue Yang, Kara Walker, Man Ray, Millenium Bridge, Old Bailey, Richard Deacon, River Thames, Sosumu Koshimuzu, St Paul's Cathedral, Tate Modern, Victoria Memorial

The next day, my train back to the West Country wasn’t until early afternoon, so Mary and I went to Tate Modern, which she knew well, but I had never visited since its opening in 2000. We went by overground (which was mainly under ground for this section) to Blackfriars Station, and it was pleasing to see that the staff at the station where we got on was taking some pride in its upkeep.

It was just a couple of minutes’ walk from Blackfriars to the gallery, and I took this photo on the way. The station platform, with its solar panel roofing, extends the full length of the bridge, and there is a splendid view of St Paul’s Cathedral over the Thames.

Developed from the former Bankside Power Station, Tate Modern is immense! It is worth visiting for the architecture alone. The power station was designed by Sir Giles Gilbert Scott, grandson of the famous Sir (George) Gilbert Scott, and son of George Gilbert Scott Jr., also an architect.

This is just the end of the very long building, which has four storeys.

A controversial extension, the 10-storey Blavatnik building, was added and opened in 2016. The nearly residents were not pleased at the invasion of their privacy.

After just a glimpse of the Turbine Hall, (guess what it used to contain)

we took a coffee in the ground floor café, looking out over the river to St Paul’s. Right over to the left can be seen a small dome (the flying saucers are reflections of the cafe’s lighting) …

… which taken with my camera at maximum, 24 x, zoom and slightly shaky hand, does indeed prove to be that of the Old Bailey.

We had intended to visit a specific paid exhibitions, but, relaxed over our coffee, decided just to explore the building and generally wander. And there was plenty to see. For a start, the temporary exhibit, its surface made of non-toxic acrylic and cement, at the far end of the Turbine Hall, Fons Americanus, inspired by the Victoria Memorial, and ‘a narrative on the origins of the African diaspora’. Here from a first floor balcony …

… and up close to some details from the ground floor.

We took escalators up to the fourth floor, and the bridge across to the Blavatnik building, giving us another perspective on the Turbine Hall and its sculpture.

Having crossed to the new wing, I took a lift to its tenth floor, and went round the four sides of its open balcony, in a clockwise direction. It was a bright sunny day, but it was also very cold and rather blowy up there, so I did not stay long.

This shows just how close the new extension is to the triangular sun-rooms in the flats opposite.

I definitely do not find the bulgy building at all attractive.

The solar panels on the Blackfriars Station platform roof are evident.

Returning to the bar at that level, I was hoping that this message might be accurate, specially having learned some some very depressing political news the afternoon before.

Back on the fourth floor, we decide that we would investigate some of the many galleries. This was in the corridor as we went back to the fourth floor bridge.

The three following are in a temporary exhibition of works by Hungarian artist Dora Maurer, b 1937.

We moved on.

Emak Bakia, by Man Ray, 1926, remade 1970

From Surface to Surface, 1971, remade (seems to be the fashion) 1986, by Sosumu Koshimuzu, b 1944

I was so pleased at how this picture had worked (Mary is third from the left) that I failed to get its title, but recall that the artist specialises in plaits.

Art for other People #14, 1984 by Richard Deacon, b 1949

Sol Lewitt Upside Down – Structure with Three Towers, Expanded 23 Times, Split in Three, by Haegue Yang, 2015, made from 500 Venetian blinds. We quite liked this, if not its title.

Time was moving on and I had to get to Paddington, so we made our way down and out, deviating to a second floor balcony, and returning to a corridor seeking to entice one into one of the temporary exhibitions.

As I needed to get to Blackfriars underground, not overground station, we had decided to cross back over the Thames by the Millenium (aka ‘the Wobbly’) Bridge. From brilliant sunshine, the weather had turned icy cold, very blustery, and somewhat rainy! We did not linger, and I just managed to get photos looking upstream

and downstream.

Despite the art not always being to my taste, I think I should like to return to Tate Modern sometime, to, for instance, see the Henry Moore gallery, and that displaying British art from 1545 (so not solely modern).