So where do we start? ... our story so far

Hartwood 

Abandoned now and derelict, a building once so grand Is testament to all that’s wrong In this, our Christian land.

This is Hartwood Sanatorium From another time and place,

But what lies below this hallowed ground Is all of ours disgrace

Some were ‘private lunatics’ Put here through family shame

But most were ‘pauper lunatics’ And are buried with no name

Homosexuals, epileptics, The disabled lie here too

All outcasts from society Buried deep and out of view

Twelve hundred plus lie buried here With some plots being shared

And take with them their cruel lives For no evil here was spared

A few nursing staff are buried here With the damned young single mothers

But in their everlasting peace They are all our sisters, brothers

Five soldiers from the Great War, Who were tortured by their past

Join a lady from St Mary’s Corps And are honoured here at last

The atrocities to forgotten souls And the stigma that they bore

Are remembered by this simple plaque And are lost to us no more

A royal Polish Princess An heiress without grace

And the baby girl who never danced

Died in this godforsaken place

Paul Colvin, The Indy Poet

This is a poem composed by our very dear friend Paul Colvin, The Indy Poet. He captures the emotion, the stigma and often the feelings of shame that surrounded mental health in days gone by.

The Meaning Behind The Poem

Paul Colvin’s deeply moving poem, Abandoned now and derelict, reflects on the tragic legacy of Hartwood.

A once a grand institution, now left in ruins. Through stark and evocative language, the poem confronts the historical shame and societal cruelty inflicted upon those who were institutionalised, forgotten, and buried without recognition.

The poet brings voice to the 1,255 individuals buried at the Hartwood paupers’ cemetery, many of whom were labelled “pauper lunatics,” outcasts from society, including those suffering from mental illness, epilepsy, disabilities, or persecuted for their sexuality. Their final resting places are shared, unmarked, or hidden, reflecting the stigma they carried in life and in death.

Colvin also honours the memory of the World War I soldiers, a member of St Mary’s Corps, a Polish princess, and our baby girl, all of whom died in this place once meant for care.

He acknowledges the buried nursing staff and single mothers, showing that even caregivers and victims of social judgment found themselves in the same fate.

The poem condemns society’s past treatment of the vulnerable while paying tribute to the efforts to remember and restore dignity to those lost. With great compassion and poetic clarity,

Colvin turns a forgotten graveyard into sacred ground, reminding us that those buried here are not just numbers, but “our sisters, brothers.”

The Graveyard Shift

Restoring dignity, identity, and nature to a forgotten place

In 2018, our family decided to trace our roots. Through hard work, research, and help from friends and relatives, we began to piece together who we were — and where we had come from.

That journey led us to discover our great-great uncle, Robbie MacDonald, who fought, and sadly died at the Battle of Mametz Wood, Somme, France in 1916.

He never made it home.

My sister and I travelled to France to find Robbie, and we were moved to tears when we found his resting place in a beautiful, well-tended cemetery. A stranger had lovingly cared for his grave.

That act of kindness stayed with me. I thought, “If someone could do that for Robbie, I can do the same for others.” It felt all the more meaningful because I work in the mental health third sector, where we promote ending the stigma around mental illness and yet here lay hundreds of people, hidden and forgotten within the grounds of the old Hartwood Hospital cemetery.

What I didn’t know then was that I wasn’t alone. Others in the village had been thinking the same. Together, we made a plan, to reclaim and restore this place, and most importantly, to give the people buried here their identities back. No longer would they remain anonymous or hidden from history.

Our Work Continues 

It felt impossible at first: years of overgrowth, rubbish, broken gates, weather-worn stones. But we rolled up our sleeves. We cleared paths, restored gates and headstones, uncovered long-lost plaques, and began building a database of names, dates, and stories. Rhona, our resident ‘Charlie Dimmock,’ germinated wildflowers, nurtured roses, and led the war against weeds. Ally cleared paths, Jackie painted and laid slabs, Rian and Jamie moved mountains of debris, Adrian restored the stones, Neil helped everywhere, Cerys brought energy like her mum, and I became the resident digger — unearthing plaques, often wondering what the police would say if they caught us with spades and metal detectors in a graveyard!

We planted lavender (known for its mental health benefits), roses, and native wildflowers. Over time, we gave back the names of the 1255 of names and their relatives began to reclaim them, telling their stories, and giving them back their once lost identity.  These stories including a Polish princess,  two sibling baby, and 15 WW1 personnel (one of them a woman).

Their dignity is now being restored, and their lives remembered.

We now work proudly alongside Spotlight Shotts to bring the stories of our 1,255 buried souls back to life,  through community storytelling, historical research, and creative collaboration.

Together, we are ensuring that those once forgotten are now remembered and honoured.

What’s New

Thanks to community support and volunteer dedication, the cemetery is now home to:

• A composting toilet, making visits more accessible for all

• Three active beehives, supporting biodiversity and producing our own “Pure Dead Brilliant” honey

• A beautiful wildflower meadow blooming around the fence boundary, encouraging pollinators and native plant life

And in one of the most important milestones of all, the cemetery has now been officially designated as a Commonwealth War Graves Commission site,  a result of Rhona’s tireless work to ensure our soldiers are properly recognised.

A Living Place of Peace

What began as a family journey has become a community movement.

The graveyard has given us purpose, especially during the COVID-19 pandemic. It became a place to recharge, to laugh, to support one another and now it’s a peaceful haven where birds sing, bees buzz, and butterflies dance.

There are hundreds of stories here, most connected by poverty or the stigma of mental illness but each one matters.

Each person deserves to be remembered.

We welcome everyone. If you'd like to get involved, visit, or just take a peaceful moment, please know:

You are always welcome at Hartwood Paupers Cemetery.

Robbie MacDonald's Grave and where our story began