ABC Wednesday......
M is for MINSTEAD................
.......................and MAISY
.......................and MAISY
MINSTEAD is one of the villages we visited when we were in the New Forest last week.
It's a tiny place.
But it had something in the graveyard that I wanted to see...
....so, up the hill to the church we went:
It's a tiny place.
But it had something in the graveyard that I wanted to see...
....so, up the hill to the church we went:
...see the double lych gate? Apparently they're very rare. The block in the centre of this one is a coffin rest. You rest the coffin there as you walk in either side....
Just inside the gate is half a yew tree. Really! It was very old, and split after a storm a few years ago. The parish voted to keep what was left. The resulting carcass effect is a rather eerie welcome....
We walked around to the back of the church, and here it is, what I came to see:
The grave of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle,
writer and creator of Sherlock Holmes.
STEEL TRUE
BLADE STRAIGHT
Arthur Conan Doyle
Knight
Patriot, physician & man of letters.
22 May 1859 - 17 July 1930
and his beloved wife
Jean Conan Doyle
reunited 27 June 1940
I love the way someone has left a pipe!
The grave is near to a big oak tree:
In actual fact, he isn't buried here. This is his wife's grave. Arthur was not permitted to be buried in the main part of the graveyard because he was a Spiritualist. Instead, he is buried "on the outskirts of the graveyard". Hmmm...
Anyway. We turned to walk the other way back to the front of the church- because when I was little I was told that it is unlucky to walk anti-clockwise round a church- "Never go widdershins round a church" was the saying. But don't ask me where "widdershins" comes from!
On my way I spotted this unusual angel:
It stood out to me because, although not overlarge, the figure was clinging to the back of the headstone. I've never seen this kind of memorial before. Angels usually kneel at the front or stand hugging a cross, or have their backs subsumed into the main headstone. This is different: meditative, thoughtful. Even a little playful.
She is draping some roses over the stone.
I was moved, and wanted to know who had inspired this.....
MAISY Elisabeth Smith.
She died at just 10 weeks old on 26th April 2000.
writer and creator of Sherlock Holmes.
STEEL TRUE
BLADE STRAIGHT
Arthur Conan Doyle
Knight
Patriot, physician & man of letters.
22 May 1859 - 17 July 1930
and his beloved wife
Jean Conan Doyle
reunited 27 June 1940
I love the way someone has left a pipe!
The grave is near to a big oak tree:
In actual fact, he isn't buried here. This is his wife's grave. Arthur was not permitted to be buried in the main part of the graveyard because he was a Spiritualist. Instead, he is buried "on the outskirts of the graveyard". Hmmm...Anyway. We turned to walk the other way back to the front of the church- because when I was little I was told that it is unlucky to walk anti-clockwise round a church- "Never go widdershins round a church" was the saying. But don't ask me where "widdershins" comes from!
On my way I spotted this unusual angel:
It stood out to me because, although not overlarge, the figure was clinging to the back of the headstone. I've never seen this kind of memorial before. Angels usually kneel at the front or stand hugging a cross, or have their backs subsumed into the main headstone. This is different: meditative, thoughtful. Even a little playful.
She is draping some roses over the stone.I was moved, and wanted to know who had inspired this.....
MAISY Elisabeth Smith.She died at just 10 weeks old on 26th April 2000.
I wanted to take more photo's but something held me back from doing so. It seemed wrong.
The Conan-Doyle grave was different- maybe because he was famous. Or perhaps because that was longer ago. I didn't know Maisy's family. To take more pictures felt like a sneaky theft.
So instead I stood the flowers up that had toppled over. Tidied off a few dead leaves and read the inscription. When I got home, I was surprised to see that I hadn't even photographed that. But I do remember the gist of what it said: that Maisy had been so "loving and giving, and exactly what the world needed, but maybe Heaven needed her kind more, to help look after us all". I think that was it.
I felt uncomfortable beside the austere cross of the Conan Doyle grave. But I had to pull myself away from this one. It was starting to rain, my partner had started to walk back to the car, and maybe this interest in a grave was starting to look weird. So eventually I left Maisy and her angel behind.
It had been nice to see a more recent and more tender monument, seemingly beautifully indifferent to being in the shadow of an 800 year old building, its fractured yew and its more famous residents.
I don't have any faith to speak of any more. And that's another story. But like I recently read of Julian Barnes, "I don't believe in God, but I miss Him." ...I have to admit there was a sweetness around this little resting place. I left it with a lilt inside that returned now, just as I typed this. And I will remember it far longer than the more renowned grave by the impressive oak.
*****
By the way, I didn't think about using "M for Maisy" when I took the photo's. This only occurred to me the other day. I think if I had thought of it at the time it would have stopped me taking the pictures at all.
It seems her anniversary is coming round soon (26th). Spare some thoughts for Maisy and her family when it does, won't you?
The Conan-Doyle grave was different- maybe because he was famous. Or perhaps because that was longer ago. I didn't know Maisy's family. To take more pictures felt like a sneaky theft.
So instead I stood the flowers up that had toppled over. Tidied off a few dead leaves and read the inscription. When I got home, I was surprised to see that I hadn't even photographed that. But I do remember the gist of what it said: that Maisy had been so "loving and giving, and exactly what the world needed, but maybe Heaven needed her kind more, to help look after us all". I think that was it.
I felt uncomfortable beside the austere cross of the Conan Doyle grave. But I had to pull myself away from this one. It was starting to rain, my partner had started to walk back to the car, and maybe this interest in a grave was starting to look weird. So eventually I left Maisy and her angel behind.
It had been nice to see a more recent and more tender monument, seemingly beautifully indifferent to being in the shadow of an 800 year old building, its fractured yew and its more famous residents.
I don't have any faith to speak of any more. And that's another story. But like I recently read of Julian Barnes, "I don't believe in God, but I miss Him." ...I have to admit there was a sweetness around this little resting place. I left it with a lilt inside that returned now, just as I typed this. And I will remember it far longer than the more renowned grave by the impressive oak.
*****
It seems her anniversary is coming round soon (26th). Spare some thoughts for Maisy and her family when it does, won't you?
*****
For more info ABC Wednesday posts, go to Mrs Nesbitt's blog
where you will see a blogroll of those taking part.
*****
