Granary Burial Ground – Boston Massachusetts

The Granary Burying Ground was the whole reason we came to Boston on this particular day because it is one of the cemeteries that started my fascination with graveyards. A great deal of children in New England end up here as it is part of the Freedom Trail. I was not one of them… so how I ended up here when I was a wee one, I don’t know. I think we just found it walking after a trip to the aquarium. In any event it is goooorgeous and it is 100% where I first started paying attention to the individual artists making the stones because I was blown away by the works of Capt. John Homer – the one responsible for the sideways facing Skull and Bones that I have recognized not just in Boston but also Portsmouth NH where he eventually moved and apparently there’s a bunch on Cape Cod too. He lived a long life and was prolific. I fell in love with this Puritan style right here in this cemetery.

Although most people do not come here for the art – even though it is AMAZING and when the sun is positioned just right this place is a photographer’s dream! No, most people come here because it is FULL of famous people. All of the victims of the Boston Massacre are buried here as well as a twelve-year-old boy who was said to be the first martyr of the Revolution two weeks before the Boston Massacre. His name was Christopher Snider and he was in an angry mob storming outside the home of local Loyalist Ebenezer Richardson. Richardson had gotten the ire of the crowd after he attempted to defend another Loyalist – a merchant by the name of Theophilus Lillie who the angry mobs harassed by placing a pro-British effigy in front of his store to let everyone know no one should be buying anything from him. Richardson was caught trying to get rid of the effigy and the mob chased him all the way home. After surrounding his house, they continued the harassment until he shot several rounds at random out of his window injuring several and killing one – twelve-year-old Christopher Snider. He was tried and found guilty of the murder of Snider and spent two years in prison before being pardoned. This has to be the most Boston story I have ever heard in my life!

Also within the grounds you can find the final resting spot of many governors, senators, congressmen, founding fathers, signers of the Declaration of Independence, Samuel Adams, Paul Revere, and Elizabeth Goose who some believe was the origin for the Mother Goose nursery rhymes. WHEW! That was a lot! And in such a small area with lots of wonderful slate carvings to add the cherry on top of it all. This cemetery has a lot of bang for its buck. Definitely worth visiting if you are in Boston!

Ancient Burial Ground Hartford CT

It is November so I guess it was time for another colonial cemetery. This time I was intrigued by a photo of a single random stone someone posted on FaceBook and with as little planning as usual off we went!

I did not expect to find what we did – a small but well packed cemetery with the strangest and most beautiful colonial era stones surrounded by the city itself. Adding to their uniqueness most were sandstone, likely imported from New York (or I guess New Amsterdam as it was called back in the day) rather than the Boston and Rhode Island slate that filled most of the rest of New England. It was… intriguing.

My travel companion grabbed a pamphlet at the entrance and went about in an organized manner trying to find each historical figure. Normally I follow along and listen to him read aloud but today… the ADHD gremlin bit me HARD and I was let loose into that cemetery with all the enthusiasm and lack of focus as a rabid Jack Russel terrier in a pit full of meth addled squirrels. I zipped from stone to stone, squealing in excitement, looking at the strange artwork on each just soaking it all in.

I did an exceptionally poor job of listening to my historical lecture and honestly all I remember by heart is that this was the final resting place of 15 (16?) black mayors of Hartford (who would have been mayors of their own segregated part of the city which sadly had little to do with the rest of the white population) and the first Irish immigrant. What follows is my research I have done after getting home…

Although today the cemetery is quite small it used to be far more expansive with perhaps up to 6,000 people buried here. Up to 90% of those would have not had the financial means to erect a stone and were thus interred in unmarked graves. Since the real estate it is situated on became valuable much of it was eventually built on top of. People buried here include many important local officials, even some who were involved with the hanging of witches back in the day. At least five, not 15, my bad, black mayors were buried here. A new marker was created to honor the black inhabitants of this cemetery and as such it’s on the African-American Heritage Tour. As for the first Irish immigrant he was actually the first Irish immigrant to Hartford not the US in general so I’m much less interested, but his name was Phenias Wilson (1628-1692) if you want to find him. His stone is one of the first to have a skull on it!

My three favorite graves were purely based on needless drama which colonial New England was FULL of. The first was an unfortunate man who was struck by lightning and instantly killed while he was standing in his kitchen. His grave marker reads “Here lies interd the remains of Capt Isreal Seymour who was kill’d by lightning Augst. 14th 1784, in the 49th year of his age. With awful rev’rence GOD adore Whose holy hand with sov’reign pow’r Did in an instant stop his breath And closed his eyes in sleep of death.” The little poem on that is good enough for me but the fact local ministers used his death to fear monger people to god was the cherry on top of the cake. Best be kissing up to god or else he might fry your sinning ass too!

The second stone could have been ripped out of a colonial era soap opera. It was that of Richard Edwards and his second wife Mary. Edward was 20 during his first marriage and his new bride was 22 year old Elizabeth Tuttle. In two decades she gave him six children but the first Edwards always claimed was a bastard as he was conceived before the wedding. In 1689 after the honeymoon phase was long dead Edward, who was a man of means being an attorney himself, tried to file for a divorce saying his wife was insane and adulterous. He may have been projecting just a little because after this petition failed he once again tried to get a divorce in 1691 this time claiming his wife was threatening to cut his throat while he slept. He claimed she was genetically predestined to be a murderess because her brother had once murdered their sister. This time the courts granted his request and the freshly divorced Elizabeth disappeared into the mists of history while her ex almost immediately married 27-year-old Mary Talcott who the town believed he was already playing hide the sausage with. She bore him six more children so he could have an even dozen (or 11 if the first one really was a bastard. Hard to say.) Apparently the two were able to regain composure in the church and eventually have a grandson who’d become one of the most prominent religious leaders in the colonial era.

But my favoritest stone was the triple monument of the Beauchamp sisters honoring Susannah McLean (1711-1741) Margaret Chevenard (1708-1783) and Maryane Keith (1696-1784.) The pamphlet says thusly about this stone: “In an unusual departure from custom these three married women were memorialized first as sisters, next as daughters, and last as wives, suggesting they shared a powerful emotional bond.” Yes, I am sure that’s what this means, and not three women’s last fuck you to patriarchy. Beauchamp sisters, I got your message loud and clear. I hope you’re still floating around somewhere kicking butt.

And so that was my trip to the cemetery! You should totally go see this one if you can. So much charm. So much drama. So much bizarre gravestone art. What’s not to love?

Cemetery Loop Trail Fitchburg MA

Today’s little adventure was more of a misadventure of me first getting lost finding the parking and then getting even more lost once I was on the trails. As such I will try to write this in a way that you won’t make the same mistakes!

Initially I found out about the Cemetery Loop Trail after randomly driving by parking at the Northern Watershed Southern Section which has a nice little map of all kinds of trails in the area. Neat. From this map I could figure out that parking for the Cemetery Loop Trail was actually on Scott Road so I went off to find Scott Road and I drove the whole thing, finding the N13 trail marker before finding the road was a dead end and any promises or parking were highly exaggerated. I could have parked at the main entrance (N60) and made my way on several trails to get to the Cemetery Loop Trail but I decided to park instead at the N10 Main Path entrance. It says not to park there but there’s a little bridge a few feet down the road that has a turnoff, so I parked there.

This actually worked out well. I found the N10 and then the N11 marker so quickly and easily I thought this was going to be a breeze! If you want to avoid the following harrowing 2-hour trek that I took and actually find the cemetery you should keep going straight at the N11 intersection. From there you will go up a steep hill and somewhere on the left, directly in the middle between markers N11 and N13 you’ll see a very unimpressive, unmarked, path on your left. The cemetery is not visible from the Cemetery Loop Path and is on this unmarked sub path, up a little hill and behind a rock wall. If you hit the N13 marker while looking for this sub path you’ve gone too far. This is a SHORT walk, should take 10-15 minutes tops from the car. The following is why it took me two hours.

First, I did not go straight on at marker N11, instead I went past it by going left, believing being a loop trail I’d loop back around. I found my way all the way to marker N12 which should mean I was where I needed to be but N12 was actually a 4-way intersection that was not noted on the map. Two directions were labelled via tree signs as “Scott’s Road” and straight ahead was “The Pipeline Path.” Neither of these paths are on the map and the Cemetery Loop Path was not marked by sign. So, I was left to guess, question myself, turn around, question myself again, turn around again, and again! I never took the Pipline Path. I did however take at various points the Scott’s Road Path to where it ended – at the road behind marker N13 on Scott’s Road, and I took the opposite direction until I hit the Maine Trail again. In the meanwhile, I continued to come across more intersections of clearly marked trails that were not on the goddamn map! Like the Lightning Trail! I could not fathom how a cluster of trails could be both so clearly marked and maintained and yet so impossible to navigate. Somewhere along the way I found an old cellar hole which was cool, before I backtracked all the way back to the N11 marker, this time taking the other leg of the loop where the map noted there was a cemetery.

Well! I made it all the way from N11 to N13 which was a HIKE straight up a hill despite the rest of the day being flat paths and in all that time I didn’t see a cemetery. By now it was raining, almost two hours had passed, I wanted to be back at the car but also I couldn’t just leave after never finding the cemetery. As I walked back to N11 from N13 I peered intensely into the woods on my righthand side and there I found the entrance to the cemetery having passed it the first time. It was not marked. It looked like a deer path and the stones were not visible until I walked up and over the hill this strange sub-path was on. Finally!! Success!!

Here in a TINY three stone plot was the Hartwell family, buried between 1806-1850, all with gorgeous slate stones. Cool thing about this plot was the foot stones were still intact and clearly visible. This is rare in stones of this age. Very cool! Also interesting to see a fresh American flag next to the middle stone marking the final resting place of a veteran. Who died in 1806. And whose grave is now practically in Narnia. How did the people putting the flags and plaques out know where to find him?! They must have gotten better instructions than I did! Now I could go home with a sense of accomplishment, having found what to date was the smallest and most hidden cemetery I have ever been to.

Cedar Hill Cemetery Hartford Connecticut

Yesterday we ventured out to see the Cedar Hill Cemetery in Hartford Connecticut because we heard it was the final resting place of Katherine Hepburn and we’d never been to the grave of a modern celebrity before. Why not? We drove a few hours, this time knowing it closes at 4PM. Still, with 270 acres to poke out we knew we’d be out there for a while.

We managed to snag a spot in their weirdly limited parking up at the church and began to ankle it into the cemetery itself, which was down a long, paved driveway of sorts. On the way there was a nice view of the Autumn leaves over a body of water. A couple benches were here too just in case you wanted to linger, though there wasn’t a gravestone in sight for quite a while.

There were however pamphlets on the way in to take self-guided tours or an audio tour. This is where things got interesting because our previous internet search had only said that Katharine Hepburn and Yung Wing – the first Chinese man to graduate an American University (Yale) were buried there. But there were SO MANY other interesting people here!

I am only going to mention the ones that I found interesting because there were literally dozens and I don’t want this blog entry to be a book. But here we go! There were several friends of Mark Twain, an ungodly amount of bankers and founders of insurance agencies including JP Morgan himself (who I guess got filthy wealthy “funneling capital for Europe to the emerging American economies.”) Jacob Weidenmann who was the cemetery’s landscape architect (and what a lovely job he did. The trees here were stunning! All in their Autumn colors!) Several actors including Katharine Hepburn, Robert Ames, and Fern Andra, several artists including William Gedney Bunce, Albert Entress, William Glackens, and George Wright. Samual Colt who founded Colt’s Patent Firearms Company largely recognized for the improvement of the manufacturing of revolvers. If it’s women’s history you’re in need of there was Isabella Beecher Hooker who was a suffragist and who fought for the Married Women’s Property Law which passed in 1877. And Thomas Hopkins Gallaudet was known for being the father of deaf education in the US founding what is known today as The American School for the Deaf. There were several inventors including the guy who figured out how to produce horseshoe nails by machine George Capewell which adorably had horseshoe nails carved into his stone.

But my two favorite monuments went to one for creepy creativity and the other for just being fascinating. Mark Howard was a prominent figure in the insurance agency and for whatever reason after he died he had a pyramid erected as his monument. Now, I’ve seen pyramids before but this was the first one that came with an angel playing peek-a-boo from the door. It was both gorgeous and slightly terrifying. I just don’t think angels should be peeking out from anywhere. That’s some sneaky behavior! But an even more impressive monument went to Horace Wells a dentist who discovered the use of nitrous oxide (laughing gas) as an anesthetic and died at 33. Someone put a lot of effort into showing his achievements on his four-sided stone that showed a woman awake and a woman at sleep through anesthesia. Eerie and striking. This was my favorite piece of art in the whole cemetery.

We’d eventually find what we came for – the modest monument to Katharine Hepburn. People had left a tennis ball, a golf ball, and several lipsticks. I don’t know much about her, haven’t even seen any of her movies, literally only know her from one interview with Dick Cavette which I watched with great amusement for her complete inability to sit like a normal person in a chair.

All and all it took us two hours to find the monuments recognized by letters in the pamphlet. We did not find the bonus list or wander beyond the sections shown in the pamphlet. Cedar Hill is 270 acres which means it just keeps going! I didn’t even mention all the war leaders or politicians but there were a number of them too. In any event this cemetery was one of the prettiest I have been to and was so expansive that there was really something for everyone here.

And so that was our trip. I highly suggest this cemetery to any history buffs, taphophiles, or anyone just looking for a relaxing afternoon stroll.

Sleepy Hollow Cemetery – Sleepy Hollow New York

We’d been wanting to go to Sleepy Hollow New York for quite a while now to check out their infamous cemetery – the one that was once terrorized by the ghostly visage of a headless horseman. The Legend of Sleepy Hollow was written about this place and the author of said classic tale of horror, Washington Irving, was also laid to eternal rest here with other members of his family. Obviously, we had to go see that. We chose October hoping everything would be a vibrant celebration of Halloween and we were not disappointed!

However, getting there proved quite a challenge. I was on day 2 of my usual 3-day migraine and despite probably better judgement decided to drive down there anyway. Google said the trip should take 3 hours, but I knew it’d be longer. Traffic in that area is always horrible. I was right. My migraine pounded as I drove through every traffic jam I could muster, even getting rear-ended at one point. Eventually I was forced to stop at a service station to take a piss break or explode. We also took the time to eat lunch in the parking lot, thank god.

We arrived after 3PM only to find this is one of those cemeteries with stupidly short hours closing at 4:30PM! Uggggghhh. We drove through it a bit trying to see things by the car but this was definitely set up as a walking cemetery for the most part. I parked at the church, we quickly located a map, and joined the throngs of other weird tourists. I immediately found the grave of Andrew Carnegie (1835–1919), Scottish-American industrialist, steel magnate, and philanthropist. Interesting but that’s not what we were here for.

We headed immediately towards the Civil War Memorial which was nice as far as these things go. But I was keener to find Washington Irving which we did next. He had a bunch of people gathered to peer upon his stone which was very ordinary and uniform amongst the other stones in his family plot. I left a penny. People had thrown all sorts of coins, very few were pennies! But I guess…. most people don’t carry pennies on them these days like I do.

We really hoofed it from here trying to see as much as possible in a very short amount of time. This cemetery however was quite hilly and I struggled to breathe as I overheated trying to get up the massive amount of steps. This overheating this is really starting to affect what I can do on a day-to-day basis. It’s Autumn for pity’s sake! Not like it was 80 degrees out! And so there I was, panting like a peasant at the foot of an egregiously ostentatious Rockerfeller monument that was bigger than most houses (and not to be snarky but also quite boring to look at.) Another mausoleum across the way was somewhat smaller but looked like it might hold vampires or treasure or something else interesting. See, if you’re going to throw away good money for the dead you might as well make it individualistic!

My favorite parts of the cemetery were actually the bridge the headless horseman galloped over (although it is no longer the original bridge – another stands there and is just as cute) as well as the oldest part of the cemetery near the Old Dutch Church where all the stones from the 1700’s were. Being this was New York and not Massachusetts or Rhode Island the stones were distinctly different being made of not slate but sandstone. Still the Cherub heads seemed to be very popular.

This cemetery was one of the most immaculately maintained and well gardened cemeteries I’ve seen. The large trees planted very strategically around the place added to the eerie charm of the place. I loved this cemetery and would love to come back when we’ve planned it better to either spend an actual day doing a deep dive or perhaps do a night tour – of which there are several (though all the tickets for the rest of the year are sold out. Maybe next year??)

Elm Grove Cemetery – Mystic Connecticut

Twas a grey and gloomy day to take the cat for a walk through a random cemetery, as one does. This cemetery had signs posted at the gate stating dogs were not allowed. It said nothing about cats.

Mystic has been a wonderful place to visit in the past. I’d appreciated the apple picking, the day shopping, the pizza binging, and someday I shall visit the aquarium. Surely such a cute little city must have a fine and glorious cemetery, no?

We went to find out. The stones seemed to be mostly from the 1800’s to the present, almost all were marble. One monument was a mourning woman who had lost a bunch of babies. Tragic but not unusual. What was unusual was that they had a monument to them.

The cat was over stimulated to say the least, but she seemed to be enjoying it none the less. She even managed to court a ginger gent who spent a good twenty minutes stalking our party. Figures she’d find a boyfriend being unfixed and ready to roll. Later on a car would come by, see the cat, and think this was the funniest thing in the world – a cat on a leash in a cemetery. They told us the ginger tom who’d been following us belonged to a house across the street and he frequented this cemetery on the daily. I was impressed. A cemetery with its own cat. That’s pretty cool.

It was a relatively quick visit. The cat sure had fun but I’m not sure I would suggest this cemetery to anyone who is travelling to see it. There was the usual smattering of grieving women, a cherub or two, and some interesting nautical themed monuments but mostly this was pretty standard faire for a cemetery.

Common Burial Grounds – Jaffrey New Hampshire

It’s been many many years since I went to Jaffrey’s Old Town Center. I’m not sure I ever went into the cemetery but on this day I did! I had heard that there were two famous people buried here: Amos Fortune and Willa Cather. As a child I had heard about Amos Fortune, a formerly enslaved man who made quite a name for himself, but Willa Cather was news to me. She was a Pulitzer Prize winning novelist.

I’ve been trying to do more Catching Marbles entries this month than usual, but my body has NOT been happy with this new goal, and I was knackered even before I arrived. Still, seeing this place again brought back some fond memories of my childhood. The Old Jaffrey Town Center looks more or less like it did 200 years ago, a small cluster of churches and big farmhouses sitting in a neat little circle, a big grassy common in front of them all. It’s quaint and sweet. They even kept the carriage house intact behind the church as well as the absolutely tiny one room schoolhouse. Plaques and memorials are scattered about making a self-guided tour very easy. The atmosphere was absolutely charming and the Old Burial Grounds behind the church were no different. They were nestled in a quiet spot with a gorgeous view of Mount Monadnock beyond. The perfect place for eternal rest.

Out front of the gates there was a big plaque stating that this was a stop on the Black Heritage Trail because of Amos Fortune. I was told online maps of the cemetery would be at the entrance. There was…. sort of… one big map but it was not laid out in a user-friendly manner. On it several graves were marked out under letters although you pretty much had to read this huge thing about all of them to figure out which was which. I passed because I could see immediately beyond a big number one sitting next to one of the graves. Cool. Surely the two graves I was looking for would be on this numbered tour, right? Right?

I had wandered around and enjoyed all the old slates and got a feel for the place when I realized none of the 13 clearly labelled stops were either Amos Fortune or Willa Cather. What?? I managed to just bump into Willa Cather on accident at the corner of the cemetery not far from the gates. I’d only gone to look at her monument because I saw a ton, and I mean a ton, of rocks on top of her stone. I wanted to know who was so well loved! And I was happy to see it was her. Novelists rarely get that much attention after death. From what I gather she had a claim to fame by writing a series of novels about pioneer life back in the day.

Before I found Will though I found a bizarre monument at the other end of the cemetery in the back that was like nothing I’d ever seen before. It seemed like a vault grave but different somehow? On it the face of a woman was carved as well as a series of religious scenes below. It was chunky and odd, like a folk-art representation of the ostentatious wealthy Catholic memorials I sometimes see. I knew from one of my cemetery books that this monument was carved by a man driven mad by grief from the death of his first wife (whose face it was at the top.) After some drama in creating this… unusual display he eventually lost interest, moved away, and remarried. Doesn’t make for the greatest story but it does make me want to ask a lot of questions!

After all this I was having a hard time standing. I sat on a huge tree trunk near the crypt and rested. Where was Amos Fortune?? I had consulted the map earlier on in the day. He was labelled as “J” but seeing as I have no sense of direction I read the map all wrong and didn’t find him. Asking my phone also resulted no results so I went back to the map and realized it wasn’t oriented in the way I thought it should be and tried again but only after looking up what the memorial looked actually like. It was distinctive in that all the slates in this cemetery seemed to be in perfect condition except for his. His looked as if at some point it has cracked diagonally and snapped in half. A repair effort had fused the pieces back together but not in the most delicate of ways – a large white cement crease could be seen as well as some rusted bolts. Not to be bitchy but this was the worst attempt at stone repair I’d ever seen.

And so I tried again. From the gate I walked forward until I came to the stone wall on the opposing side and then I took a small left and it wasn’t long before I recognized this unique stone. I’d been looking for something drenched in pennies but it didn’t look like anyone had been here. Not a single penny, rock, or trinket, lay testament to a man whose name is burned so heavily into this town’s history. I apologized for this and amended the situation leaving a penny on both his and his wife’s stone.

So who is Amos Fortune? Well, he was an African man who was sold into slavery in the 1700’s and brought to Boston where he labored until he was able to purchase his own freedom at the age of 60. After this he moved to Jaffrey, founded a successful tannery, bought the freedom of his wife and adopted daughter, and lived what looks on the outside to be a good life until his death at 91 where upon he bequeathed a substantial amount of money to the church and community. In 1950 he was once again remembered with Amos Fortune, Free Man a Newbury Metal winning biography by Elizabeth Yates.

Phillips-Heil Cemetery – Jaffrey New Hampshire

I was having a weird day today. Ended up accidentally crashing a funeral! Hoooow? How did this happen? Well…

Last week I was reading in one of my cemetery books that there was a beautiful cemetery in Jaffrey NH. Really?? I mean I live very nearby and had never heard of this cemetery. The book also denoted the driveway to it was easy to miss and basically said it was in the middle of nowhere. It was called the Philips-Heil Cemetery which is not an unusual name as many of these older cemeteries are named after the original families that buried their loved ones in them. Seeing as it was in the middle of nowhere, likely a family cemetery, and very old (I’m talking slate stones here) I did not expect to find anyone out there.

It was indeed a bit of trouble to find but the sign out front was big enough to see coming from one direction. It was up a long narrow dirt driveway in the woods, so you could not see the cemetery from the road. As I drove up I found a parking lot. And it was FULL. I mean really full… there had to be thirty cars here. Whaaaat was going on?

I found a tiny slot where I could squeeze my Prius. A dirt road continued onward but I wasn’t about to get my wimpy ass Prius stuck and unable to turn around with so many witnesses. Later I’d learn it was only a short drive to overflow parking where there were spaces. Wish I’d known that.

Do I get out or turn around? People were already looking at my car. Hrumph. I got out. If I had to I could bluff in this odd Harold and Maude kinda moment. Upon getting out I realized this cemetery was TINY and there was no real way I could just wander by the services and pretend to be there for someone else, but I had no other option. I walked up to road by them getting dagger eyes from whoever was leading the ceremony. It was just wrapping up. I was not dressed for this sort of thing and was clearly an outsider.

By now I was uncomfortable and so were a great deal of others. I tried not to make eye contact as I walked to the opposite side of the cemetery and peered at the stones intently. Sadly, all these stones were super old and I couldn’t pretend I was here to leave flowers for a great uncle or something. By now I could smell the faint aroma of decay. That was odd. I’ve been to funerals before, I never remember smelling the dead. Then it dawned on me, I thought Heil might be a Jewish surname. Great. Did I just crash a Jewish funeral in the midst of that clusterfuck between Israel and Palestine? When tensions are at an all-time high?! YEAH, that might explain why the person leading this (the rabbi? The funeral director? Not sure) was watching me with such intensity it was burning a hole in my neck. I swear I was not here for any nefarious reasons. I couldn’t give a shit what anyone’s religion or ethnicity is – I just like the pretty stones!

As people were leaving a friendly man and his wife approached me smiling. Oh fuck, here it comes.

“Just out taking pictures today?”

“Yes, I like to take photos of historic grave markers.”

“Oh! Well! The newer stones are up front. You can see many generations of the Philips family here.”

“Thank you!” I smiled and wandered off.

Later I heard a girl and her mum speaking.

“Why is she here?” She asked, obviously referring to me.

“She might know someone buried here. Or she’s out taking photos of the old stones. People do that!”

“WHHHHHHY?!”

“Because they’re gorgeous!”

Touché, ma’am. Touché.

This cemetery was very small. Around 150 or so stones. Most were very old and in this setting, they were quite charming nestled away in a quiet corner of the woods. It was VERY New Englandy! Most were pretty uniform although there was one monument that stuck out at the back near the overflow parking. It wasn’t a headstone. It was a chair. Made of marble.

Later on in the day I looked up this cemetery’s history and found this note about the chair, “A striking memorial is that in the north end of the yard, looking across to Gap Mountain. It is a great stone chair, fit to be the throne of a monarch of the hills. It is a memorial of the Ross family, three generations of whom lived hereabout. It is said that according to the belief of a descendant, spirits often return to the scenes of their earthly existence, and so, with filial respect, he placed for them this chair, facing the sunset, where in seemly fashion they may sit at ease when they return to muse upon the scene of their earthly existence.” (You can find the rest of the article here.)

Basically, this cemetery was the remnants of a farming enclave that lived in between Jaffrey and Fitzwilliam, too far away from either to be fully incorporated. Very interesting! And without further ado here is the very scant few snaps I took.

The Last Damning Accusations of Caroline Cutter’s Gravestone – Elm Street Cemetery – Milford MA

As we all grow older and hopefully wiser we began to take on the gentle wisdom of phrases like, “Let lying dogs lie” but Caroline Cutter may have been an exception to this philosophy. You see after her death in the mid 1800’s her husband spent what I can only guess was a decent bit of money on a scathing 150 word headstone that called out several members of the community by name, accusing them of harassing his beloved to literal death.

Basically, this was a petty feud between a church and a couple who once attended services with them. According to the church Caroline’s husband Calvin Cutter was little more than a shyster. They accused him of bullying other church members into helping him fund his own church across town – a church that ultimately was never built. For these grievances they excommunicated both Calvin and Caroline and Caroline apparently took the blow to her reputation very hard and despite her better efforts was never able to get back into the good graces of the church.

After she died Calvin took it upon himself to make her headstone into one of the pettiest monuments ever carved. In it he claimed the excommunication destroyed his wife’s life, threw her into poverty, and eventually killed her while she was already down. That’s quite a bit of drama. Drama I don’t even think the town wants over 200 years later as a completely unrelated monument/plaque stands two feet from the stone nearly completely blocking it.

Now I don’t know if Calvin really was a na’ardowell, nor do I know if Caroline was really as dramatic as her husband. It seems as if social ostracization may have made both of them a little nutty. And maybe, just maybe, dear old Calvin wasn’t a grifter but just someone with ADD who let his rejection sensitivity spill over into his grief for his deceased wife. Anything could be possible!

But no matter what you believe the stone still reads thusly, Caroline H., Wife of Calvin Cutter, M.D. Murdered by the Baptist Ministry and Baptist Churches As follows: Sep’t. 28, 1838; aged 33 She was accused of lying in church meeting by the Rev. D. D. Pratt and Deacon Albert Adams. Was condemned by the church unheard. She was reduced to poverty by Deacon William Wallace. When an exparte council was asked of the Milford Baptist Church, by the advice of their committee, George Raymond, Calvin Averill, and Andrew Hutchinson They voted not to receive any communication on the subject. The Rev. Mark Carpenter said he thought as the good old Deacon said, “We’ve got Cutter down and it’s best to keep him down.” The intentional and malicious destruction of her character And happiness as above described destroyed her life. Her last words upon the subject were “Tell the Truth and The Iniquity will come out”

This stone is SUPER easy to find, though there is no parking in the cemetery or roadside. I parked at the gas station across the road but I guess there’s also a park around the corner with even more appropriate parking. The cemetery gates are behind a little park monument out front and should be open if it’s daylight hours. As for Caroline Cutter’s stone – it’s in the first row almost in the center right in front of someone’s barn and behind another completely unrelated monument.

Fort Barton & Fort Barton Woods Tiverton RI

It was another humid day that felt like we were vacationing on a swamp on the sun. Just thick dank air. Still, it was cloudy so maaaaybe we could get away with being outside. MAYBE.

We decided not to go too far and found Fort Barton and the Fort Barton Woods only a few minutes away. It was apparently the spot of the Battle of Rhode Island. Never heard of it? Don’t worry, this was news to me too, maybe because it was ultimately a battle we lost… to the British. I guess we were trying to protect Newport and the whole island from this strategic point but when that didn’t work the British came in and occupied the city instead.

There aren’t really any remnants of the fort left, at least not that I could see, but there was a nice observation tower you could climb and gain a really nice view of the bay and the island beyond and there was ample parking for such a little-known gem.

There were several trails here and maps to help guide the way. We chose the shortest loop path because after getting out of the car we were starting to realize how oppressive and sticky it was out there. We basically raced at a very brisk walk, up and down craggy little hills. It wasn’t the most challenging but at the same time the last thing either of us wanted today was to be fighting against the gravity of various hills.
Still, the path was nice. It seemed as if a lot of people had been through here even if it looked at times quite hairy and overgrown. To the side we were even lucky enough to find a wee little cemetery nestled in the woods, protected by stone walls. Most of the monuments seem to have been missing to time but a small handful still stood wearily looking over what appeared to be a farm of some sort. A rooster crowed in the background and melted my heart. I forgot how much I loved that sound.

I was doing pretty good even though I almost immediately started overheating. I was able to make almost the whole loop (which was less than a mile) before I had to sit down. By then I could feel the heat coming off my face like a burner. I was dizzy, disoriented, and knew I was in trouble — yet again. I sat on a cold rock, my feet propped up on another rock. I didn’t have any water so this would have to do. Luckily by then we were really close to the car and I cranked up the AC and went home after recovering for a few minutes.

Despite these difficulties it was very pretty! The overgrowth gave it a sort of fairy like charm. I snapped a few shots with my phone and decided to come back on some cooler day to take the longer loop path.

All and all we learned some history, enjoyed a lot of greenery, somehow avoided a plague of ticks (seriously, take bug spray) and managed to not die of heat stroke. I’d call that a win!

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