by There is a small grave in a remote, isolated spot in Northampton churchyard separated from other graves of young children, tragically taken from their parents through illness or accident.
He is on the edge of the cemetery, all alone, a pauper’s grave. On her tombstone is the message: “In Memory of Love / on an Unknown Girl/Death 18th May 1982. A Fallen Sparrow Known by God alone And Loved by God.”
The words Fallen Sparrow were taken from a biblical text, found by the local vicar, Canon George Burgon, vicar of St Mary’s Church, Far Cotton in Northampton, who was called out of the blue by the police back in November 1982 to to send. funeral.
It was six months after the child he came to call the fallen sparrow to find. The police still had no clue who was to blame. They just wanted her to have a Christian burial. Canon George Burgon, eight years in his ministry in the parish, was greatly affected by the fate of the child.
Today, Margaret Burgon, his wife, is 78 years old. She talks about the bright-eyed child as if she is woven into the fabric of her life.
She still visits the grave four or five times a year, and always around May 18, to lay flowers.
Back then, when the child was found dead, in a carrier bag near the train station, she was 36, a mother of three little girls herself.
She remembers saying to her husband, “I’ll come with you to the service.” She could see her husband moved.
“I went to show love and motherhood. I was a mother myself, aged 36, with three young daughters of my own. My husband could give the child a Christian burial but he could not give her a name. That’s why we chose Fallen Sparrow. She has loved me ever since. I talked to her, I cleaned her headstone, I wished her a happy birthday. It was a promise I made to her at that service.”
It was Margaret who led the effort to clear the plot of the girl, to acknowledge her short life with a physical mark.
It is today, 42 years later, that Northamptonshire police may have answers to what happened to the girl. After a cold review of a case – the cause of which is still unknown – a 57-year-old woman in Northampton has just been arrested on suspicion of murder related to the death of a newborn child in 1982. The woman would have been 15 years old at the time, a child herself. She has been released on bail. Did she come forward? There are many questions now just as there were four decades ago. Police did not release details.
Margaret Burgon feels profound sympathy: “Whatever happened to that little girl, whether the mother did it or not – we don’t know anything about that – the mother had to live with this knowledge for 42 years . It was a 42 year life sentence for the mother. I want to talk to her, to let her know that I and my husband loved her child and that every year for those 42 years I took her flowers and wished her a happy birthday. But of course, I only know the day she died, not the day she was born.”
Love may have been in the child’s short hearted life – who knows? – but it wasn’t enough to save her. When she was found, it is understood that she was wrapped in a cloth. Her death made national headlines but as the search for answers became more successful, public interest waned. Who was the child? Who was her mother? Surely someone knew something? The questions, as is often the case, have become less urgent over time. Eleven years later, in 1993, the police closed the case.
The kindness and respect shown by the fallen sparrow – the flowers, the headstone at last, a brightly colored windmill turning in the wind – over the last four decades has not only been administered by the Burgons: “I go there often with my friends,” says Margaret.
It was only last month, on May 16, two days before the anniversary of the girl’s death on May 18 and not long before the police arrested a woman who one might reasonably think could be her mother, Margaret Burgon posted on Facebook, revealing how serious she is. she took on her role as the girl’s spiritual caretaker. It was the role of a lifetime:
“We will never know who this little one is, or indeed, when his birthday will be. My friend and I visited her today, it was pouring rain, but that didn’t stop us. God bless you dear.”
Canon George Burgon has since explained: “I remember that the whole community was very surprised by what had happened. But it is a great example of common humanity – the way people responded then, and still do. She is our child as a society, as humanity.”
Margaret Burgon remembers the funeral as if it were yesterday. It was around 9.30am when the small group gathered, which included Margaret, three police officers, a businessman and two journalists: “My little children were at school. I just thought ‘I’m going.’” Her daughters are now 46, 50 and 52. The fallen sparrow would have been 42, just four years younger than Margaret’s youngest.
As the tiny coffin is lowered into the ground, Margaret says: “I promised her she would not be forgotten. And I kept that. It’s really sad.”
Canon Burgon remembers that it was the most difficult funeral service during his ecclesiastical career so far (he was at St Mary’s for 23 years before retiring). This was not his first service to the lonely dead – but the death of an infant, abandoned in a bag, was a great break.
What changed between 1982 and 2024? Back then, no one came forward, to offer information about the parents, or to claim it: “Could it be DNA?” Margaret asks me, mystified. Could it be related to her last post on social media, where she said “we will never know who this little person is,” along with a photo of the gravestone?
Although the child’s memoir is mostly led by Margaret, she was sometimes helped by local school children, willing to share the kinds of toys that a little girl might have played with. The children have left these on the lower slab of the headstone: My Little Pony; little white mouse. Sometimes there is a small pot of lavender, symbolizing memories.
When the 57-year-old woman was arrested, the police later paid tribute to the Burgons’ lasting commitment to the child’s memory. Margaret Burgon was speechless when officers rang the bell at home and sat her down to tell her a woman had been arrested: “I was almost in tears. I was so surprised that they could get engaged after 42 years.
Word spread. The messages began to increase: “Mary, is this the child for whom you receive flowers? Is this your baby”. I have been asked more than once “Why do you still do that?” And I say, “Because I made a promise to her. But, my word, we never expected this.”
The Burgons now hope to finally find out what happened to the child and her mother: “If I could ever meet her, I would probably give the girl a hug,” says Margaret. “In so many ways, I feel sorry for the mother. I want her to know that her baby loved me.”
