This week I’m wrapping up my series on Charleston, S.C.’s First Scots Presbyterian Churchyard. There was simply too many great stones to not have a Part III!

So to finish up, I’m featuring a few more stories. This first stone is unlike any I’ve featured so far because there are no urns, weeping widows, or soul effigies. Not even a cross or broken tree. How’s that for a surprise?

This marker for Captain John Morrison and his wife, Elizabeth, was most likely carved in 1821 (when John died) or 1852 when the wife died. Because it is topped with a Scotch Thistle, the national flower of Scotland (Capt. Morrison’s home), my guess is that it was carved in 1821 and his wife’s name was added after her death three decades later. It is located beside the Walker marker I featured last week in Part I.

So why is the Scotch Thistle the national flower of Scotland? According to legend, an invading Norse army was attempting to sneak up upon a Scottish army’s encampment one night. During this operation, a barefoot Norseman stepped on a thistle, causing him to cry out, alerting Scots to the presence of the Norse invaders. Some sources suggest the specific occasion was the Battle of Largs in 1263, but that’s not certain.

At some point, John met and married a British woman named Elizabeth Watson. They had at least one child, a daughter named Mary Flora born in 1811.

Capt. John Morrison’s house still stands at 125 Tradd Street. You might recall from last week’s Part II that Dr. Fayssoux owned the house at 126 Tradd Street. Morrison bought the property at 125 in 1800 and the construction date is thought to be sometime around 1805.

A historic plaque on the house states that it is noted “for its handsome four bay facade facing Tradd Street, and for its expansive three-tiered piazzas which were added in the 1840s. The house is also noted for its Adam style interiors and for the large scale of its primary rooms and entrance hall.”

Here’s a picture of Capt. Morrison’s house, which sold for $3.96 million to a tech entrepreneur in November 2017.

Mary Flora was only nine when her father died on Feb. 26, 1821. His marker says that he was 56 when he died while his death record indicates he was 65. The cause of death was influenza. If you look at his death notice below from the Charleston Daily Courier, his funeral was held at his house on Tradd Street, although at that time it was numbered 97 instead of 125.

Elizabeth lived another three decades. At the time of her death in 1852, she was living with daughter Mary Flora, who had married a cooper named Robert Bee, and her grandchildren. She died of cancer on June 26, 1852. Her death notice indicates her funeral was held at First Scots Presbyterian Church.

A Political Climb

The final marker I’m going to share with you is for Charleston Governor Brigadier General John Geddes and some of his family. While it features the names of five people, John Geddes is the best known. His political climb made him a successful figure in Charleston, but it came with a price as a result of some of his choices.

Born in 1777, John Geddes graduated from the College of Charleston, studied law and was admitted to the bar in 1797. He was active in the South Carolina Militia, serving as a Cavalry Major.

A member of the South Carolina House of Representatives, (1808-1816) Geddes served in the South Carolina Senate from 1816 to 1818. That same year, he was appointed as a Democratic-Republican the 47th Governor of South Carolina, serving until 1820. After leaving office in 1821, he was appointed Brigadier General of the South Carolina Militia. From 1824 to 1825, he served as mayor of Charleston.

Were They Sisters?

John Geddes was married twice and the names of both wives are on this marker. On May 30, 1798, he married Harriet Chalmers, a daughter of Charleston artisan Gilbert Chalmers. After Harriet’s death in 1803, he married Ann Chalmers on March 28, 1805, who died the following year. The marriages produced at least three children, John Jr., Harriet, and Gilbert. Since both women had the last name of Chalmers, Harriet and Ann may have been related but I could not trace exactly how.

After Geddes left the office of Governor in 1820, he still retained a great deal of power and influence in Charleston. In October 1822, his son John Jr. acquired the Charleston City Gazette, which became the organ of the Geddes faction.

Geddes and Dueling

John Geddes was involved in at least two duels during his career. The first took place with political opponent and Federalist Keating Lewis Simons. In 1823, Simons and Geddes met on Sullivan’s Island. Simons was wounded and limped the rest of his life.

In 1824, Geddes found himself the target of some scurrilous comments from 28-year-old Edward Simons, a cousin of Keating Lewis Simons. Feeling his honor had been insulted, Geddes challenged Simons to a duel. This time, Geddes gave his younger son Gilbert the task of acting as his “second”. Gilbert was incensed at Simons’ remarks against his father and may have asked to take his place.

On Johnson’s Island in Charleston’s harbor (another report called it Fort Johnson and the duel happening at high noon), Gilbert faced Edward Simons. Four different rounds passed between the two men at a decreasing distance with neither being wounded. On the fifth round, Gilbert was shot in both thighs and Edward Simons was hit in the chest, a wound from which he died. One article I read noted that Gilbert’s wounds rendered him a cripple for the rest of his life, but I don’t know if that’s true.

Death of Father and Son

On March 4, 1828, John Geddes had a stroke and died. It’s listed as “apoplexy” in the death records. Sadly, his oldest son, John Jr., would die only a few hours later on the same day of “debility”, which is thought to be physical weakness. He was 28 a the time of his death.

When I looked for newspaper accounts of the Geddes deaths, I found this interesting diagram in the March 6 edition of the Charleston Courier that laid out what order in which the elaborate funeral procession was to be placed that went from the Geddes home on Meeting Street to First Scots Presbyterian Church.

The Geddes marker notes that John Jr.’s “remains lie beneath the tomb of Gilbert Chalmers at the Northwest corner of the square.” Gilbert, who had been wounded in 1824 in the duel with Edward Simons, died of brain fever in 1848 at the age of 40. While there is a memorial for him on Find a Grave as being buried at First Scots Presbyterian, there is no photo of it.

Also listed on the marker is John Geddes’s daughter, Harriet, who died on Oct. 9, 1827 at the age of 26. Below John Jr.’s inscription is one for John Sr.’s granddaughter (Gilbert’s daughter) Elizabeth Sarah Anne Geddes. She died on Oct. 22, 1811 at the age of three.

I’m not sure which churchyard or cemetery I’ll be featuring next week but I’ll still be in Charleston. I’ve still got a few more to share.

 

Last week, I shared a brief history of Charleston’s First Scots Presbyterian Church and its churchyard. I also told some of the stories behind the stones there, with a few carved by Scotsman Thomas Walker. He was a member of First Scots, as were many Scottish newcomers to Charleston. In Part II, we’ll take a look at some more markers along with a little history.

Although these next two markers are not exactly the same, both feature a “grieving widow” motif. Little is known about William Hunter beyond what’s on his stone. I found no death notice in the newspapers.

A native of the county of Antrim in Ireland,
who died on the 18th of September, 1805
aged 58 years
the last seventeen of which were passed in this city.
He was respected and beloved for his solicitude as a relative and friend
his probity as a man and (above all)
his philanthropy and benevolence to the stranger and the distressed.

Urn as a Greek Symbol

Take a close look at the top image on William’s stone. A mourning woman (perhaps a widow) leans over an urn positioned on top of what may be a vault. I featured the urn last week in some of Thomas Walker’s markers but on those it was the main icon, not playing a supporting role as it is here.

The urn is a Greek symbol of mourning, originating as a repository for the ashes of the dead in ancient times. It was a popular symbol of mourning, which is why you see it on so many markers or in draped form atop large monuments.

This is a departure from what we saw in the 1700s, when skeletons, winged skulls, and soul effigies were the norm. A shift in focus was taking place from trying to convince those visiting the grave to live a good life or suffer the flames of hell to a softer message of consolation to the mourner. The emotion of sadness and memory of a life well lived is stronger than fear of the afterlife.

Now let’s take a look at a similar but different marker for Alexander Kennedy, which was signed as being carved by Thomas Walker’s studio (although it wasn’t necessarily done by Thomas himself).

So who was Andrew Kennedy? According to his marker, he was a native of Scotland who died at his plantation in St. John’s Berkley Parish on Sept. 18, 1802. He was around 40 years old. As one of the 10 original parishes created by the Church Act of 1706, the parish of St. John’s Berkeley stretched northwestward from the upper reaches of the Cooper River to the Santee River through modern Berkeley and Orangeburg Counties.

If you look on a map today, this area is located near modern day Moncks Corner, S.C. about 35 miles north of Charleston. It came to be associated closely with rice plantations, one of which was probably owned by Andrew Kennedy. The 1800 Census indicates he did live there and he was married, supported by the words on his marker that say “erected in his memory by his disconsolate widow.”

“His Disconsolate Widow”

Those last words are echoed in the motif at the top of Andrew’s marker, which features a mourning figure next to what appears to be an urn sitting on an obelisk. This figure is not bending over it as in William Hunter’s, but she does appear to be “disconsolate”, her hand pressed against her cheek with her other hand on top of the urn.

To the figure’s left is a pitcher sitting amid some of the draping of her garment. You can also faintly make out the initial “K” on the base of the obelisk the urn rests on. To the right of the obelisk appears to be a flower that’s been snapped in two, indicating a life cut short. Add to that some elaborate drapery that surrounds this scene, showing off more of the carver’s talents.

When I look at these two mourning scenes side by side, I conclude that Andrew Kennedy most likely had a higher placement on the social ladder than William Hunter. The extra touches like the drapery and initialed obelisk lead me to believe this.

The Douglas Sisters

This next marker is for two sisters, Sarah and Catharine Douglas. The inscription is as follows:

This stone is erected by the
afflicted parents of
SARAH E. DOUGLAS
and her sister
CATHARINE DOUGLAS
the former who died
July 24th, 1806 & the latter
June 21st, 1807,
Aged 3 years 9 months
17 days.

It appears that Sarah, the first child, died on the day she was born on July 24, 1806. Older sister Catharine was three years old (and nine months) when she died on June 21, 1807. We don’t know who their parents were but it was surely a blow to lose two children within about a year of each other.

Two Lives Cut Short

Let’s take a closer look at the top. Instead of a grieving widow, we’ve got an angel with full hands. In one he’s holding a trumpet to his lips. The other is holding a scythe and has cut down a flower, signifying a life cut short. We saw that motif earlier on the Kennedy marker, leading me to believe it might be another Walker studio creation. Regardless, it’s a striking image.

This last marker has no decoration on it. Fairly straightforward, it shares the information about Charleston native Dr. Peter Fayssoux (1745-1795) and his second wife, Ann (1758-1810). But Dr. Fayssoux had quite a career in and it’s worth mentioning.

The son of Huguenot émigré Daniel Fayssoux and his wife, Frances, Peter Fayssoux attended medical school in Scotland. Upon returning to South Carolina in 1769, he was dismayed by the number of “quacks” practicing medicine. “It is Sufficient for a man to call himself a Doctor, & he immediately becomes one, & finds fools to employ him,” he complained to medical school chum Benjamin Rush, who was a signer of the Declaration of Independence.

Treating the Sick and Wounded

On Jan. 29, 1772, Fayssoux married Sarah “Sally” Wilson, who died in 1776. The following year, on March 29, 1777, Dr. Fayssoux married Ann Smith Johnston. The marriages produced 13 children, six of whom died in infancy or early childhood.

Early in the Revolutionary War, Dr. Fayssoux attended the sick on James Island. By 1778, he was serving as senior physician of the South Carolina branch of the Continental army.

In 1780, Dr. Fayssoux was named physician and surgeon general of the Southern Department. Captured at the fall of Charleston, he was released to attend to the sick and wounded. At the end of the war, Dr. Fayssoux was treating patients in Camden, S.C. where he stayed until March 1782. After the war, Fayssoux became a member of the Faculty of Physic in Charleston, the first sign of organized medicine in the state.

In 1786, Dr. Fayssoux was elected to the General Assembly, where he represented St. John’s Berkeley Parish until 1790. He was a founding member and the first president of the Medical Society of South Carolina, which held its first meeting at Fayssoux’s home on Dec. 24, 1789. Dr. Fayssoux was also involved with the Charleston Library Society, the Charleston Museum (as a curator), the Society of the Cincinnati, and the St. Cecilia Society.

He died on Feb, 1, 1795, of an apoplectic stroke at the age of 50. Wife Ann died in 1810 at age 52.

I’m not quite done at First Scots Presbyterian Churchyard. Please come back for Part III for more stories from the stones.

Were you hoping I was done hopping in Charleston, S.C.?

When you’ve got sights like the one pictured below, it’s just too hard to leave without talking about as many burial grounds you can. And this churchyard has a playground in it. More about that later.

After leaving St. Michael’s Churchyard, we headed down Meeting Street a short block to First Scots Presbyterian Churchyard. Find a Grave has about 800 burials recorded. The congregation was established in 1731 when a dozen Scottish residents left the Independent Church of Charleston, now the Circular Congregational Church (yes, I’m writing about that one soon). In its early days, it was known as Scots’ Kirk.

Built in 1814, the current building is considered the fifth oldest church building in Charleston.

Scottish brothers John and James Gordon built First Scots’ current building. The design is thought to be inspired by Baltimore Basilica in Baltimore, Md. and contains a number of Scottish symbols in the stained glass windows and a symbol of Scotland, the thistle, on the wrought iron grilles. This building replaced an earlier wooden church.

The Story of the Bells

Although First Scots has two bell towers, the original bells were donated to the military during the Civil War. It’s said that the bells were never replaced to honor the Confederate dead.

In 1999, a bell built in 1814 was reinstalled in the northern tower. St. Johns Church in Preston, Lancashire, England, had eight bells in its own historic church, but no longer needed them when a replacement set was acquired. First Scots made plans to bring the seven working bells to Charleston and hang them in their towers.

However, the southern tower was found to be too weakened from the 1886 Charleston earthquake to support the six smaller bells. As a result, the largest of the bells from St. Johns was hung in the northern tower. That 1,470-lb. bell was funded in large part by congregant Bonnie Workman, so the bell is named “Bonnie” in her honor.

Playing on Graves?

So I mentioned a playground earlier. There are four different sections to the First Scots Churchyard. The main churchyard encompasses the sanctuary. Near the rear of the sanctuary where a parking lot is located, there’s an area of stones along a side wall. There’s a back burial yard surrounded by a similar wall of stones. Then there’s a small yard surrounded by a high brick wall covered in stones. In the middle of it? A playground.

So how did that happen? My guess it that with the blessing of the congregation, the markers were pulled up and put on the surrounding walls. I could find nothing online to indicate when this happened. I’m not sure how I feel about it because the thought of children romping on graves is a bit disconcerting. However, this was a decision made by the congregation and they must have felt it was the right thing to do to provide a place to play for their younger congregants.

Back to the rest of the churchyard. One of the most interesting markers Frank pointed out to me was done by one of Charleston’s best known carvers for his very own family, Thomas Walker. It definitely stands out.

The scene on this marker is unlike any I’ve seen before. No winged skulls, no cherubs, no flowers. It’s basically a stone carver’s workshop. In the middle is an oval coat of arms that contains a compass and three brick towers, which bears a strong likeness to the Mason’s Company of Edinburgh. Walker was likely a member, having left Scotland for Charleston around 1790.

Grave Marker as Advertising

In their book, Historic Gravestone Art of Charleston, South Carolina, 1695-1802, David Mould and Missy Loewe interviewed art historian Diana Combs about this marker. She commented that the stone serves as a combination history of his family members with an advertisement for his business. The variety of implements that stone carvers of that era would have used are apparent.

Walker, who was a member of First Scots, has a number of his markers in the Churchyard that are worth pointing out. He liked urns and you can see examples of them here and there.

“The Son Most Dear”

This one features a smaller urn for Thomas Turnbull, who died on Oct. 13, 1795 at the age of 25.

Thomas also favored grander urns like this one for John Cunningham, who died in 1799 around the age of 23. I apologize for the small size but it came from a larger photo I took that day.

I’m reaching a little further back in time with this next marker to the 1760s. Mould and Loewe point out that John Rattray’s marker might be a British import because it doesn’t look like what we usually see in terms of New England’s style and the upper crust Charleston markers. Decorated above it with a scallop flanked by flowers is a chubby-faced cherub surrounded by feathers under his chin. Wings, trumpets and palm fronds are also featured.

What do these items signify? The scallop and flowers often symbolize rebirth while palm branches are associated with spiritual victory. The trumpets symbolize Judgement Day. All in all, there’s a lot going on here but it works wonderfully well.

So who was John Rattray? He was born around 1716 and eventually became an attorney, practicing in Charleston. In addition to his law practice, he had two plantations and owned 60 slaves. He represented the St. Helena Parish in the 21st (1754-1757) and the 22nd (1757-1760) Royal Assemblies and the Prince William Parish in the 24th Royal Assembly (1761).

On November 14, 1760 Rattray was appointed Judge of the Vice Admiralty Court, a post he held until his death on Sept. 30, 1761. Other offices he filled were Firemaster for Charleston (1755-1758, 1759-1761), commissioner to regulate trade with the Creek Indians (1755), commissioner of Fortifications for Charleston (1755-1761), and justice of the peace for Berkeley County (1756).

Much less is known about Frances Hunter, wife of James Hunter, who died at the age of 48 on Dec. 9, 1768. But because her marker is from the same decade as John Rattray’s, I thought I would include it.

Next to Frances’ stone is a small one for her son, John, who died in 1775. His age is not included.

To close out today’s eclectic collection, I’m featuring the stunning grave marker of Capt. James Ross and it’s not just because I love the skill that went into it. From the mid-1800s, it has a more modern style to it that the 18th-century soul effigy markers had.

If you look on the base, you can see the name “W.T. White” on it. This was William T. White, the great-grandson of Thomas Walker. The tradition was indeed being carried on.

One reason I’m drawn to this marker is the fact that unlike a number of ship-adorned markers I’ve seen in cemeteries and graveyards, Capt. Ross not only lived a long life, he didn’t die in a shipwreck or perish in a storm. Believe me, I’ve seen my share of those. I don’t doubt that Capt. Ross faced a lot of dicey moments in his seafaring career. But he survived it all and ended his career on a high note.

James Ross was born sometime around the late 1770s or early 1780s in Lerwick in Britain’s Shetland Islands, which is about as far north as you can get and still be the U.K. I don’t know when he arrived in Charleston but his grave marker indicates that “for upwards of 30 years he commanded vessels out of this port.”

“An Honest, Upright, and Noble-Hearted Man”

Having proven his salt (pardon the pun) as a mariner, Capt. Ross became a member of the Board of Port Wardens around 1840 and eventually became chairman. He died on Oct. 8, 1856 of “congestion of the brain” according to death records. His marker notes that he was 70 years old but his death records has him as 75.

I found in a Charleston newspaper a trio of death announcements for him that outlines not only his membership in the Charleston Marine Society but also the Independent Order of Odd Fellows (IOOF).

There’s plenty more to see at First Scots Presbyterian Churchyard, so be sure to come back for Part II.