Why not follow up a ghost hunt at the Lizzie Broden Inn with a stroll through the cemetery she was buried in a few days later? That’s absolutely what we, two lovably morbid history buffs, did today.
I had Oak Grove Cemetery on my big list of cemeteries to check out but I had long forgotten why until I was reminded this morning. Ooooh yeeeah, it’s where the Bordens are buried!
I was expecting another sprawling garden cemetery oozing personality in the form of varied monuments and when I drove up to the gate of this place I really felt this what it must be. Big iron castle-looking gates, an actual parking lot beyond with several cars, and an information center inviting you to check out their cemetery tour QR code. But that wasn’t necessary because there were giant white arrows on the pavement leading to Lizzie’s grave. This place certainly knew who to cater to! This is the first time in all my cemetery jaunts that I have seen a grave so well marked for tourists. And it was only a very short walk which was great because it was cold as a witch’s tit today.
Curiously Lizzie is buried in the same plot as the father and step mother she likely ax murdered. She was found innocent at the time and lived a long life afterwards but there’s proof here she never quite got away from the stigma of the crime in the form of her name – changed from Elizabeth to Lizbeth. I don’t think dropping the E helped much to be honest. She’d eventually move from the family home to her own mansion across town where instead of socializing with an entire town that was giving her the cold shoulder she prefered instead to host theater actrices from afar, more than a few of which she likely courted. In those days she would have been known as a spinster, today we probably would say something more along the lines of lesbian.
Lizzie Borden to me stands as a bit of a tragic figure. Forever memorialized by a children’s jump roping rhyme forever naming her as a killer and she probably was but I think if she were tried today she’d be seen in a little more sympathetic light. There’s quite a few historians who give her father more than a little side eye for potentially being not just a miser and all around horrible person but also one who may have been grooming his own daughters. I saw the crime scene photos – there is nothing left of the Borden’s faces, to me that suggest some serious pent up rage, built up from decades of abuse and held back only by the strings of a corset. Lizzie may still see her time as we grow as a society to have a better understanding of criminal psychology. We could recast her as a folk hero of the Me Too Movement for taking charge of her own destiny in a time when that was near impossible for a woman.
But back to the cemetery, would I suggest it to my readers here? Maybe, if you are into the Lizzie Borden story. Otherwise probably not. Although the cemetery was sprawling there were remarkably few monuments that looked unique enough to get my attention – less than a handful of statues, a couple masoliums, a single Celtic cross. I will note however there was a rather large murder of crows watching us from creepy bare trees the whole time which seemed fitting.
It’s been a funny experience going to all these cemeteries around New England. You never know what you are going to get. This cemetery boasted the grave of Eli Whitney the inventor of the cotton gin which is initially what caught my companion’s eye because who would have thought the inventor of the cotton gin would be buried somewhere that is too frickin’ cold to grow cotton. But this was only scratching the surface. The other claim to fame was this was the US’s first cemetery to claim “city of the dead” in its description. All this means is that the streets and paths throughout were given official names making the gravestones almost have little addresses with which to find them. And of course, there was the imposing Egyptian style gates reading, “The dead shall rise” which wasn’t creepy at all. Apparently, it’s a Bible quotation but that’s not nearly as fun as envisioning it having something to do with the secret society rituals performed here by Yale students or one of my favorite urban legends about tunnels being dug under the cemetery connecting the Yale medical school allowing “resurrectionists” to more easily steal and sell corpses to science. That part did happen back in the day but the tunnels, sadly to say, do not go under the cemetery.
The cemetery is surrounded on all sides by whimsically bizarre buildings, including a church directly across the entrance which has gargoyles on it. You have no idea how much this delighted me. I LOVE gargoyles and they are such a rare sight here in the US! These ones looked weirdly political – an eagle in a suit and a donkey in a suit. No elephant though, so there’s that I suppose. After this initial distraction we wandered in only to find this place is another one of those cemeteries that close at 4PM. This has been an ongoing issue for us as we generally have to drive from pretty far away and by the time we get there sometimes the gates are closed. Today we had two hours and counting to amble around.
There was a bulletin board at the entrance that had not one, not two, but four separate maps of interesting graves. One was generalized, one was of Civil War notables, one was of the people involved in the Amistad, and one was of just cradle graves. Obviously, this was too much for one day so we went with the Civil War notables and the cradle graves, promising to be back for the others when we had more time (as those maps had more on them.)
I had no idea what a cradle grave was but apparently this is what they call the memorials that were popular in the late 1800’s that were shaped vaguely like a cradle. The intention of this design was to make it an easy flower bed connected directly to the headstone. I’ve seen these before but being so old none of them still had flowers in them, but this cemetery decided to restore them to their former glory by planting historically accurate native flowers in them, to bloom at different points during the year. As far as I can remember none of these graves were also on the notables list but they did add quite a bit of charm to the place. We found all of them.
We also found the aforementioned Eli Whitney who was hard to miss and a bunch of Civil War dead. They included people who’d died in some of the first battles as well as the more recognized ones like Gettysburg and Fredericksburg and one man who served in New Haven’s first “colored” regimen. Sadly, although this was super old cemetery I wasn’t seeing the oldest colonial sandstone markers. As it turns out all those were moved to the perimeter of the cemetery from an even older cemetery location. The bodies that went with them are still under the common. But their stones still provide witness, and it was eerie and beautiful to see them all lined up against the walls. So many Death’s Heads and other bizarre colonial era carvings. LOVE IT.
We were also surprised to find two sphinxes! Each looking into the distance to the same spot. I realize that the wealthy had an Egyptian fetish from the mid 1800’s into the 1900’s but that doesn’t make it any less awkward to find. They always seem so out of place and these ones didn’t have any name on them and I have not been able to find any information on them which makes them that much creepier. They probably eat souls or some such.
We left when the clock ran out before finding the “random jazz musician” my companion mentioned which turned out to be GLENN MILLER. I didn’t realize that’s who he was talking about until I got home and now we very much have to go back!! Which is all well and good because I still want to see all the Amistad graves too. And maybe take a few more photos since half the ones I took on this day refused to upload.
If you happen to be in New Haven or love cemeteries I absolutely recommend this one. It’s really lovely. And it’s flat. Which is more than I can say of most cemeteries in New England!
I’ve been anxiously awaiting the arrival of the trolls for a long time now- probably since the middle of last winter when there began the murmurings of such creatures coming to our forests. I know, the artist Thomas Dambos, has other trolls in New England – specifically some in Maine I have yet to visit – but if I remember right those were in a botanical garden and required tickets so I never managed to get out there. This was much closer and much cheaper!
I’ve never been to Ninigret and I must say it was an impressive park! There was SO MUCH space for parking and beyond that there were numerous sports fields of all kinds including disc golf?!?! Seriously have never heard of such a thing and was having a real hard time getting my mind around it. There was also a lovely little dog park with two enclosures, I’m guessing one for large dogs and one for small. And on top of all that there were hiking trails through the woods! All this alone was enough to get me going but we came for trolls.
We were not disappointed! Since it’s technically off season no one was really parked in the parking lots, instead there was a string of cars parked aside the road which we took to mean there were trolls there. I managed to parallel park for once and we were on our way. The trolls had only been there a few days at this point and the crowds they were drawing were impressive! We followed said crowd only a few hundred feet until we found the first troll – whose apparently named Erik Rock. People were lining up for selfies. I was shocked to see how big he was! He dwarfs humans! And the very normal size bird house dangling on a necklace around his neck looked TINY.
Erik was beautiful and clearly already well-loved but there was supposed to be two trolls in this park. We were told Erik would give us a clue as to where his lovely wife(?) Greta Granite was but we didn’t really know what that meant. Did the birdhouse mean something? No idea. After playing with him we left and followed the crowd down the path until we hit a road and weren’t quite sure where to go from there. Eventually we’d figure out if we took a left onto the road and wandered down it not too far there was a little path and a little half hazard stick reading “troll” in front of it. So, we crawled into this underbrush and not very far down Greta came into sight. Honestly, I think she delighted me even more than her mate. Her hair was made of local bamboo, she wore lots of jewelry made of seashells, and had the most darling button nose.
People gathered all around her and were taking photos. A woman came by with a baby strapped to her back who babbled, “dada!” when they saw my travel companion. I joked, “Acquiring more children, are you?” “NO, I AM NOT!” You can tell from the lack of contractions in that sentence he was offended but goddamn I found that whole scene hilarious.
But back to the troll – people were being super polite and letting everyone get their chance to check her out. We decided to continue on the trail, which was a short loop, and in doing so found her enormous yet somehow still adorable feet with which she was kneeling on. I was impressed! This was such a lovely sculpture! And it’s made almost completely from reused and recycled materials. Even better these are only the first two of what should eventually be five on The Troll Trail, which will include other parks, all within an easy day’s travel in Rhode Island. I can’t wait. I will absolutely be trying the Troll Trail altogether when they arrive!
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!
Ever have one of those moments where you find yourself somewhere odd, staring at something you can’t explain, and having no idea why? This seems to happen a lot to me and today was no different. I was on the Freedom Trail just meandering when I came across a seagull sitting atop a statue. I thought it was so funny I stepped into the dooryard to snap a photo and found instead the cutest little donkey statue under it! And honestly, I was going to let this go as just that… a fun little thing during the day, not a whole damn blog entry, but things started to get a bit weird. You see the donkey in addition to being life-size (to a miniature donkey) was also practically glowing. It was a bronze statue and a clearly well-loved ass as there were golden wear marks almost all over the damn thing! I mean I’d seen bronze statues polished by people touching them before but it’s always just one spot. This thing looked like it’d been furiously rubbed like a genie’s lamp. What… is going on here?? I looked around for an explanation but there wasn’t any plaques or signs or anything… it was just… an anomaly.
“Is it shiny because people pet it for good luck?” I asked my companion who had no idea either. Just for good measure I pet him. I’m not really superstitious but I could use some good luck… especially after the earlier parking fiasco and the traffic, my god, the traffic. Later I’d look up what made this donkey so special and when I read the story… I smiled!
Apparently, they donkey is absolutely as random as it looks. He started his life in Italy where a Roger Webb found him, became enamored, and purchased him for the low low price of ten thousand dollars. Why? He wanted to put him on the Freedom Trail to entertain bored children! But you can’t just put a random donkey on the Freedom Trail. That makes no sense. And when he tried to donate the donkey to the city of Boston they just frowned. No. just no. BUT HE’S SO CUTE, LOOK AT HIM!
Anyway… eventually Mr. Webb came to lease the courtyard of The Old City Hall and he decided that would be a great place to board the little guy. Certainly, better than his daughter’s garage which is where it was spending all it’s time during this lack of a custody battle. He still had to make up a reason for why it should be there and so he just muttered, “Democrats?” And apparently Boston relented. That is until after the donkey was put in place and the Republicans got their panties in a bunch wondering where their elephant was going to go. To appease them Webb did put a dedication up to the Republicans but it wasn’t in the form of a bronze elephant it was actually just a set of footprints directly in front of the donkey…. so they could stand in opposition to it.
Meanwhile, much to Webb’s glee the donkey became a BELOVED monument, climbed on by children of all ages, pet on the regular, and with selfies galore. And I mean… it deserved it. Why? Because it’s ridiculous and adorable, that’s why. In this increasingly hostile world sometimes it’s nice just to spread joyful chaos. So, if you’re of a whimsical nature like myself I think you too should pay a visit to this sweet little donkey.
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?
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.
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.
Back at the North Burial Ground it was my companion’s turn to pick a tour and he decided upon the HP Lovecraft tour. HP Lovecraft did indeed live in Providence RI but he is buried elsewhere, in the Swan Point Cemetery, so what this tour had to offer was a bit of a mystery. Still, we parked in our usual spot and ambled in – this time finding ourselves behind the visitor’s center where there was a HUGE memorial to the Armenian Genocide. How we had missed this before… is just testament to how much we weren’t paying attention because I mean this thing is MASSIVE and definitely worth a look if you are already here.
After that distraction was put aside we finally got to business. First up was finding the stone of Clara L Hess who was a classmate of HP Lovecraft although she apparently had quite the illustrious life all on her own as a reporter and editor of the Providence Journal and Evening Bulletin.
Next up was Chester Pierce Munroe – who likely bonded with HP Lovecraft when they were both pups, daring each other to eat paste. OK, so you can’t prove the latter part of that but that’s how I’d like to imagine it. Truth be told they met when they were very young at school and remained chums throughout the rest of their days. Munroe was a working class man and although there’s rumors of him writing a book or several he was unable to get anything published. Not really surprising considering the politics of the day.
Addison P Munroe was another childhood friend although information on him seems a little scarce. Good news is if I remember right his stone was really close to the last one and also had his wife’s name on it who I guess also garnered a small acquaintance with Lovecraft.
James Tobey Pyke was apparently a big influence on his neighbor, a 14-year-old Lovecraft, whom he encouraged to write poetry. Pyke was a poet himself as well as a minister at one point. He apparently had pretty frail health but still insisted on working for his income despite being from a fairly well to do family. Eleanor Francis Pyke was James’ wife who also adored poetry and managed to raise a poet son, growing up alongside the neighbor’s boy Lovecraft.
Samuel Brenton Mumford was a successful local businessman that was one of the first investors to own a part of the Providence Athenaeum which would later become a favorite haunt of Lovecraft’s. In addition to this it was his former home which HP Lovecraft would later spend the last few years of his life.
Cyrus Butler was the Providence’s own Scrouge McDuck kinda character. In life he was obscenely wealthy and really not terribly keen on sharing that but even so he was one of the original investors helping to build the Providence Athenaeum – an institution that he also gave a large donation to after his death. He also bequeathed 30K to build The Rhode Island Hospital for the Insane post humorously. It still exists although it’s called the Butler Hospital and has nothing to do with Lovecraft as far as I can see. Also isn’t it wonderful millionaires can get redemption even after death?! Must be nice!
So ended the Lovecraft Tour. Below are photos of the stones mentioned and a bunch of others that distracted me with thier uniqueness or beauty. It’s a lovely cemetery to explore!
*Scroll to the bottom for photos or enjoy a good read below.
A few weeks ago I heard a book calling out to me as I strolled haplessly through a Barnes and Noble. It was titled Over my Dead Body and it was all about the evolution of the garden cemeteries starting in Paris and working their way over here to the United States. It was a very informative (and often funny) read which mentioned a lot of cemeteries here in New England, one of which I’d never been to before. So that’s how I ended up at the Sleepy Hollow Cemetery in Concord Massachusetts last week. It’s the home of Author’s Ridge which is where Lousia May Alcott author of Little Women, Henry David Thoreau author of Walden or Life in the Woods, Ralph Waldo Emmerson the poet, essayist, and philosopher, and Nathaniel Hawthorne the author of the Scarlet Letter and The House of Seven Gables are all buried quite close to each other.
Honestly it was weird I didn’t know about this place before seeing as I am constantly enamored with authors, cemeteries, and history. Still. Sleepy Hollow is a large cemetery with clearly marked signs leading to Author’s Ridge and scant parking so keep that in mind if you visit.
So how did all these icons of their era end up buried in a row? Simple, they weren’t. Back in the day the cemetery more or less bought their remains so they could put them here to drive-up tourism. Capitalism at its finest. Nothing is off limits. Not even celebrity corpses. But it worked! And people are STILL flocking here. Although oddly enough there were remarkably few pennies. Alcott had the most. I wonder if they weren’t being cleaned up or if this bunch just wouldn’t be fond of having pennies left for them. They seem the type…
I’d been accidentally stalking the life of Lousia May Alcott for some time weaving in and out of the strange and wonderful landmarks they had something to do with and I have been coming to learn they were a fascinating individual, possibly even a trans or non-binary icon as in their own words they declared, “‘I am more than half-persuaded that I am a man’s soul, put by some freak of nature into a woman’s body.” And they liked to be referred to as gentleman, like a boss! They were buried in a family plot with their author mother Abigail May Alcott and author sisters Elizabeth Sewell Alcott and Abigail May Alcott Nieriker. Their last remaining sister wasn’t a writer but she was inspiration for Meg in Little Women and she also resides in the family plot. Her name was Anna Bronson Alcott Pratt. Pretty hard-hitting literary family there.
Admittedly I don’t know much about Emerson, he’s flown under my radar for some reason. Though I did previously visit the former resting spot of Henry David Thoreau’s cabin in the woods aside Walden Pond. I could appreciate his deep and intense need to be one with the wilderness. However, my knee jerk reaction since childhood was to not have any real fondness for Nathaniel Hawthorne. I decided at 12 he was whiny, and my opinion has only gotten bleaker with age. He wrote The Scarlet Letter and The House of Seven Gables which is a real place and a delight to visit. He’s buried with his likely more talented writer and artist wife Sophia Amelia Peabody Hawthrone who was relocated from her original burial in London in 2006! THAT POOR DEAR.
I will note now there are other authors buried here who are not on author’s ridge. They include but may not be limited to:
Novelist, poet, and screenwriter Millen Brand known for his 1937 novel The Outward Room and his 1948 screenplay The Snake Pit.
Prominent transcendentalist, poet, and dear friend of Thoreau: William Ellery Channing whose books include “The Woodsman” (1849), “Near Home” (1858), and “The Wanderer” (1871)
Intrepid journalist Irene Agnes Dolores Corbally Kuhn who was the first woman to broadcast on the radio in China and whose career spanned a great many interesting topics from interviewing Charlie Chaplin and Margaret Sanger to covering the Lindbergh baby kidnapping.
Robin Moore – the author of The Green Berets and The French Connection
Franklin Benjamin Sanborne – Writer and one of the “Secret Six” who funded John Brown’s Raid on Harper Ferry sparking the Civil War. Gotta love a trouble maker!
Margaret Sidney – Children’s book author of The Little Peppers and How They Grew series under a penname.
Not be outdone there are other people of historical note here. In fact many of them are written up on a board near the entrance of the cemetery that also has a little map and I think a QR code for an audio tour. We decided to wander around like cracked out squirrels looking for whatever took our interest in any particular second weaving in and out of some areas several times, talking to other lost cemetery goers, and getting distracted by beautiful monuments and really ornate slate stones. So much diversity here!
As we wandered we found slates with ornate carvings – sometimes whole family crests, as well as a number of modern stones that had the deceased’s signature on them. I’ve never seen either of these before or a slab of green granite being used instead of marble. There was also Edward Nealy’s memorial which was an old indigenous mortar being currently used as birdbath. A slate stone commemorating a woman who was a teenager when the British came into the tavern she lived atop of and announced their occupation of the colonies. There was even a few Asian stones with characters on them but my two favorites were a fairly recent burial who had A TON of rocks set on top of his stone. He must have been loved by SO MANY people to have acquired that many rocks! On the complete opposite side of the spectrum I found a husband and wife drama from the 1800’s. They were in a family plot and the husband had practically his whole obituary on his stone – totally mental amount of words and aside him his wife had a matching stone that literally only ready her name, date of birth, and date of death. WOW, what happened there?! Upon closer inspection she didn’t have the same surname so I am guessing she remarried after her husband died and then came back to be buried awkwardly in the family plot. Ooooo the scandal!
But I suppose I should get back to the other famous people buried here… My favorite I think was a very unassuming one. Her name was Anne Rainsford French Bush who was the first woman to get a driver’s license! I left her a penny (as there were none there and if I am thankful for anything in this life it’s that I, as the owner of a pair of tits and a twat, have the freedom to drive a car. VERY UNDERATED RIGHT.) Not to be outdone there was also Katherine K Davis who wrote the lyrics for The Little Drummer Boy. Her stone was the hardest to find as it was a flat ground level stone and there were soooooo many ground hornets in the area. Thousands. I tried taking a photo but they were too small to pick up. You’ll just have to believe me this was the biggest swarm of ground hornets I have ever seen in my life. This cemetery is known for bird watching as migrating birds seem to love it here – I suspect many will get eaten by them in a month or two.
Daniel Chester French, the sculptor responsible for the seated Lincoln in Washing DC also shares a residence here with the other authors and artists. And in a quieter but no less important role we also found Mary Lemnist Titcomb – the creator of the first bookwagon (or bookmobile,) Elizabeth Palmer Peabody who helped create the kindergarten system in the US, William Monroe Spencer – the first man in America to manufacture graphite pencils, and Ephraim Wales Bull – who bred the first Concord grapes, and Marc and Emily Daniels – a married couple working in television as a director and camera coordinator respectively. Marc’s resume is impressive including episodes of I Love Lucy, Hogans Heros, and Star Trek and Emily was one of the first women to work behind the scenes with the cameras on shows such as I Love Lucy. Their stones were the only ones we did not find. I don’t know where they were hiding but we looked a good long time for them – with a terrible map, a confused GPS, and a broken gut instinct.
We didn’t bother to try and find the oodles of politicians and famous gun makers. Suffice to say we’re both a little weary of such things at the moment.
All and all this cemetery has soooo many historically interesting people, especially women of note as well as authors. It was on some beautiful grounds and aside from the lack of parking and the thousands of hornets it was actually really pleasant! I would highly suggest it to any cemetery or literary lover.
