The Crossbones Graveyard
One thing I love about London black cab drivers is their fountain of knowledge when it comes to the history of London. It was while I was sitting in the back of an iconic black cab, having an interesting conversation about my book and my fight to change the laws surrounding sex work, that I was informed of the Crossbones Graveyard.
Nestled between Union Street and Redcross Way by London Bridge station, the graveyard is a memorial to the outcasts of the medieval era. Rediscovered in the 90s when TFL were digging up the land to make way for the Jubilee line extension, the site has become a shrine to remember those who were deemed unworthy of a Christian burial.
Often referred to as the single woman’s churchyard for medieval sex workers, among the skeletons found were a young woman’s syphilitic skull with multiple erosive lesions. Forensic tests revealed that the young woman was 4ft 7in tall, aged 16 – 19. The skeletons of many children and newborns were also found at the site, around 60% were infants. In addition, the burial site was also for the poor and those who could not afford a proper burial. But most of all, it was a burial site for the outcasts and the forgotten.
The sex workers who worked in the area of the Southbank during the medieval period were known as the Winchester Geese. Partly because they worked under the license of the Bishop of Winchester and also because of the noises they would make to attract clients. I find the hypocrisy in that so shocking but not one bit surprising. Sex work was seen as a sinful act yet, the Bishop of Winchester was happy to take a cut of their earnings and line his own pockets. It does make me wonder, has anything really changed?
I felt instantly drawn in as soon as I entered the site. I found myself thinking of sex workers from years ago, what they went through, how they were treated and how even in death, shown a total lack of respect. Disease would have been rife back then with the finger always being pointed at the female sex workers. But what about the men spreading their seeds enjoying sex with multiple lovers? Were they held accountable for spreading diseases too?
Since visiting the site, my mind has begun to ponder on that word, ‘outcast.’ In later years I have certainly viewed myself in this way and begun to relish in the fact. How different to my school and university years when it was all about fitting in and moulding myself into some sort of societal acceptance. Not now! I bask in being different, in staying true to who I am rather than pleasing others. Writing my memoir Unashamed certainly helped with this. It was during the writing process that I truly grew into myself and began to bloom.
So to all outcasts reading this: stand tall, be proud, own your differences for they are what will enable you to shine and stand apart from the rest of the crowd.