Walking through the grass opposite the chapel one often comes across a black cat.

There are stories handed down concerning a black cat. If you put ‘Margravine black cat’ into Chatgpt, works of fiction come up about a black cat mourning its owner.

The true story is even more interesting. A Victorian lady, Adele Campbell, wrote about a black cat  - not to a Hammersmith newspaper as expected , but inexplicably to a Scottish newspaper - the Inverness Courier in 1891...

Sir, —I am a frequent visitor at Hammersmith Cemetery [the original name for Margravine Cemetery], and having noticed a black cat there constantly, I asked the manager for any information he could give. He tells me this cat has been an inhabitant of the cemetery for about four years. It followed the body of its mistress to this last resting place, and has remained ever since, resisting all attempts to remove it. The manager has very kindly had shelter provided for its protection from rain and cold, in a corner by the church door. Here it may be seen, when not walking amongst the graves—walking in a slow, grave manner, as if conscious that quicker motion would be unsuitable. Its answer to notice is a faint mew, suppressed almost to whisper. It is of singular appearance, being of brown shade of black over the body, with head of deep black. Upon the face is something of mournful wistfulness. Poor puss! Perhaps this look is caused by shadow of remembrance of bygone time when it had a good mistress and rightful place by a cheerful kitchen fire. One wonders does any sense of the sadness of the surroundings reach its understanding. With this strangely faithful cat rubbing against one's dress, one almost fancies it may have a dim instinct of sympathy with one's bereavement.—l am, sir, yours etc.., Adele B. Campbell.