Heyday
One of the things that made the Hull General Cemetery stand out amongst burial places in Hull when it opened was that it accepted burials from any faith. Indeed, as mentioned earlier, this was a central aspect of the notion of ‘general’ cemeteries; that they were non-denominational and were not tied to a parish or parishes. Only certain parts of the original site were consecrated so that other areas in the cemetery could accommodate the non-conformists of which Hull had a good proportion. Amongst such groupings were The Society of Friends also known as Quakers, Methodists, Presbyterians and even at one stage there were proposals for a Jewish section. It also made arrangements with the local Poor Law Commissioners representing the Hull Workhouse, that was situated on Anlaby Road, to bury the paupers that died ‘on the parish’. Whether this was good business sense was open to question, although it did constitute a regular income. What it did do, however, was to make Hull General Cemetery Company all embracing and as such it raised its profile above the other alternatives on offer in Hull at that time.
The grounds of the cemetery were tastefully planned and planted out by the first superintendent, Mr John Shields, in conjunction with Cuthbert Brodrick. John Shields, had fulfilled the same role at York General Cemetery when it opened in the 1830s and was obviously not only experienced but eminently qualified for this post. It was noted in the local press of the day that the cemetery grounds were on a par with the Botanical Gardens situated elsewhere in Hull.
Obviously, being a private cemetery company, with shareholders, the company was always seeking a profit and undertook to provide the entire care that one could wish for in the event of a loved one’s death. If you wished, and could afford it, the company sold you the grave plot, provided the funeral carriage and entourage, the minister to officiate, the gravedigger to dig and bury the loved one and finally they could also provide you with the headstone or monument of your choice to be placed on the grave. Naturally, as aftercare for the bereaved, they could plant the grave with flowers or shrubs, and also maintain the grave and monument too. If you could afford it of course.
The cost of burial varied with how much you cared to pay. It ranged from a pauper burial at 10 shillings (50p), up to the catacomb burial costing £105, which would probably be the equivalent in 2018 terms of about £7,000 to £9,000. The average income for a labourer in Victorian times was about £1 to £1.50 a week.
The first test of the worth of the new cemetery took place within two years of its opening. Cholera was an endemic disease in its home area of the Bay of Bengal. However, it had begun to be transported around the world unwittingly by English traders and soldiers who had been in that area. The first cholera pandemic swept across Europe in 1830/1, reaching Hull in 1832 from Sunderland. It found the filthy living conditions that the working class in Britain had to endure a perfect spot to multiply and it infected thousands nationwide. Eventually the disease died out and apart from a few houses in the densest areas of population in Hull being whitewashed, little changed.
The second and more deadly cholera pandemic came in 1849 with it reaching Hull in the July travelling overland from Goole via Hamburg. The authorities had taken little heed of the last epidemic and the conditions that some people were living in were dreadful. In some of the courts and alleys of the old town, 20 or 30 families had access to running water via one standpipe, whilst their sanitary needs were met by two or three ‘privies’ at the end of the block. The ‘privies’ themselves were not connected to any sewers and workmen emptied them irregularly. These conditions were not unusual. There is little wonder that cholera spread so quickly in the town. By September the death toll was running into thousands.
One of the bright spots of this dark time was that Hull could call upon the Hull General Cemetery for the safe disposal of the dead. If the town had still depended upon the parish burial grounds, the death toll would almost certainly have been higher. The resident non-conformist minister to the cemetery, the Reverend James Sibree, wrote a telling account of this time and how the dead were buried in the cemetery. He stated that the sheer number of funeral hearses often stretched from the Beverley Road and Spring Bank corner up to the very gates of the cemetery. In his memoirs he told of one day when he officiated at 43 burials. This may give some idea of the death toll taking place within the town at this time. At the end of the epidemic some 3% of the population of Hull had died from it, which proportionally was the highest of any town or city in the country.
It was mooted, when the disease had finally burnt itself out, that a monument should be erected on the spot where so many of the victims were buried. This monument, a large obelisk upon a square plinth, was commissioned by the cemetery company and may still be seen today. Hull City Council refurbished it in 2002.
By the 1850’s the cemetery was well established and it became, not only a peaceful and hygienic place for the dead to be buried in, but also a pleasant place to stroll for the town’s inhabitants. Indeed, before the opening of the People’s Park, now Pearson’s Park, in 1861 it was the only place where people could promenade without paying a fee. As such it was immensely popular as a backdrop to the middle classes socializing. We may find this rather strange today but the Victorians appeared to rather enjoy the idea of melancholy for its own sake and a number of people of the period wrote correspondence to the local newspapers stating how much they enjoyed a walk in the cemetery. Indeed, the pressure was so intense that the cemetery company had to change its rules and open the cemetery on a Sunday simply to meet demand from the public.
Of course, at this time, it was also the place to be seen whilst dead too. The more prosperous and important citizens of the town began to opt for burial there. Larger and more ostentatious monuments were erected which we can still see today.
In 1855 intra-mural burials, that is burials taking place within a parish or church burial ground, were prohibited by legislation and Hull General Cemetery now held, with just a few minor exceptions, the monopoly of burials within Hull. For the next few years the Hull General Cemetery was, as they say, the only game in town.