Before we get started, you may notice a slight change in the title of this week’s post. Two weeks ago, I referred to my subject as the French Huguenot Church Cemetery and that was technically incorrect.

Cemetery vs. Churchyard vs. Graveyard

This issue was in the back of my mind when I was writing that initial post but I dropped into default mode and stuck with “cemetery.” Truth be told, in this case, the term “churchyard” is more appropriate. I looked up Frank Karpiel’s reference in his book and he refers to it as a “churchyard” so I am going to bow to his superior knowledge. The definition of churchyard is a patch of land adjoining or surrounding a church, some of which can be used for burials. Some call that patch a “graveyard”.

Today, the words are often used interchangeably and I’m sure if someone went through my blog, they’d find mistakes in how I refer to some of them. The word “cemetery” didn’t come into play until the last few centuries and usually refers to a large burial ground not associated with a church. It comes from the Greek κοιμητήριον, meaning “sleeping place”.

“Tutor of the Orphans”

One particular gravestone that Frank pointed out to me was that of Philip Anthony Besselleu (sometimes spelled Bessellieu) (1747-1795), who was a teacher to about 600 students at the free school operated by St. Philip’s Episcopal Church just down the street. He also worked at the Charleston Orphan House. In 1791, President George Washington came to Charleston and while there, he visited the Orphan House. He spent some time with the children and had breakfast with the staff. Besselleu and his wife, Susannah, also had several children of their own.

The detailed soul effigy at the top of his stone was carved by Thomas Walker, a Scotsman with an abundance of talent. The face looks quite sweet. His work, and that of his four sons (David, James, Robert, and William), can be seen on markers throughout South Carolina until around the Civil War.

Thomas Walker’s son-in-law was John White. John’s son, John Jr., and his grandson William did their fair share of beautiful carving work, some of their creations turning up throughout the Southeast. I was picking through a cemetery in Greenville, Ala. in January this year and was thrilled to come across one of John’s monuments.

What is a Soul Effigy?

The soul effigy itself, or winged cherub, was the motif that began replacing the skull and crossbones (which I featured in Part I) so often seen in the 1600s into the 1700s. These ‘winged effigies’ might look like angels, but they often were artist depictions of either cherubs or, possibly, the human soul. Some believe they might have even resembled the deceased themselves at times.

You can see another example across the churchyard from an earlier time than Philip Besselleau’s. Barbary Bocquett’s stone is unique even by Charleston standards since the face of the effigy is decidedly more chubby than usual and the wings drape straight down. The chin is also quite large in contrast to the tiny dot eyes. It is thought that the carver could be John Zuricher of New York, whose similar looking work can be found in the graveyards of Long Island.

I learned that Barbary’s home, which was a few blocks away from the church on Broad Street, was used as a French school to teach Huguenot children in the 1750s. She died on May 19, 1755 at the age of 35. Barbary’s footstone with her initials “B.B.” has also somehow survived. That’s a miracle in itself.

“His Unfeigned Grief”

Not much is known about Thomas Tunno beyond the fact he was a wealthy Charleston merchant who was active in the shipping trade. He married Harriet Ward in late April or early May 1800 (records give conflicting dates). I believe she had a heft dowry of her own. She was about 25 at the time. Barbary died on Feb. 21, 1802 at age 27. Her inscription reads:

The disconsolate Husband caused this Monument to be erected as an evidence of his unfeigned Grief. And a just tribute of respect to her virtues.

It’s difficult to make out in the picture, but at the top of the marker is a female figure leaning against a pedestal supporting an urn. This was a very common motif that came into use around early 1800s.

If you look in the bottom left corner, you can see the name “G. Rennie, Charleston”. George Rennie was another Scotsman who found his way to Charleston and was a popular carver until his death in 1810.  He is buried not far away in the First Scots Presbyterian Church’s churchyard.

From the Old to the New

One thing you’ll notice in the churchyard is that scattered among the older markers are new ones from the last few decades. This isn’t always the case in burial grounds I’ve visited. The French Huguenot Church membership is still quite active and it look like there’s still some space among the crowded stones to be buried.

When you first catch sight of this slate stone, you might think it was old. But it was done in 2008 for Opal Jenrette Robinson. She died at the age of 93. Made of slate, it looks as if it might have been carved by George Rennie or Thomas Walker.

Instead of a soul effigy or a winged skull, Opal’s marker features a cherub leaning on its elbow. It’s a more modern take but still respectful of the old style. It even keeps some of the original language of those old markers, starting with “Here Lies Buried the Body of…” Especially touching are the final words, “She gave us Kay.”

There are, hard as it is to believe, a handful of carvers out there trying to keep this old art form going today. Some of them live in Charleston and I’m guessing Opal’s family commissioned this stone in her memory.

Not far away is a similar slate marker for Opal’s daughter, Kay, who died in 2006 at the age of 67. The cherub at the top is slightly different. At the bottom are the words, “An angel flying too close to the ground.”

On the other side of the churchyard is the stone of Millicent Whitfield Bradsher, who tragically died in a car accident on Feb. 16, 1998. The marker is rounded at the top and has a footstone, making it look older in style. But the fresh blue mosaic tile in front of it is definitely not. I think it fits in well at the churchyard and is complimentary of the styles around it.

The beauty of these modern markers is that they are evidence of the continuing life of the church itself, which has not died. People still attend services, pray and sing hymns as they did hundreds of years ago with the church was first started. Unlike many churches, the French Huguenot Church of Charleston has not faded away. It is still going strong today.

Having been born of a religious movement that some sought to stamp out, that’s quite impressive.

I’ll be back with more stories from Charleston, S.C’s churchyards and cemeteries.

The end of May marks my family’s annual visit to Folly Beach, S.C. In 2018, I was especially eager to go because I’d made contact with someone willing to visit cemeteries with me in nearby Charleston’s historic district.

“Hopping” With an Expert

I’ve visited Charleston’s historic cemeteries several times over the years but never with a person I consider a true expert on them. Frank Karpiel has published several articles in newspapers, magazines, and scholastic journals, and he wrote a book on Charleston’s cemeteries in 2013. He’s also taught as a visiting assistant professor at the College of Charleston and an adjunct professor at the Citadel Military College. So he knows what he’s talking about.

I contacted Frank online and he kindly agreed to meet up with me during my May 2018 visit. Because I do most of my cemetery “hopping” solo, it was a genuine treat to do it in the company of someone who can not only share what he knows about the cemeteries but gets as excited about seeing them as I do.

I was also excited that we were meeting at the churchyard French Huguenot Church (FHC) of Charleston, which I’ve never been inside. Because of vandalism over the years, the church wisely limits access to the churchyard and it’s always been locked up when I’ve visited.

But on this day, the church itself was open for tours and Frank was talking with the pastor in the churchyard when I arrived. I blithely climbed over the chain and joined them knowing I wouldn’t be scolded.

History of the French Huguenot Church of Charleston

According to the FHC web site, the Huguenot (or French Protestant movement) had a key role in the European Protestant Revolution. Protestants persecuted by the French Catholic Court migrated to Europe, South Africa, and the Americas.

By the late 17th century, Huguenots had settled in several Eastern coastal areas. These groups grew when Louis XIV caused the Edict of Nantes to be revoked in 1685, stripping French Protestants of all religious and political privileges. The English encourage these refugees to settle in the colonies, most from France’s prosperous merchant and professional classes.

In April 1680, the ship Richmond came to Charleston with 45 French Protestants (Huguenots) aboard and additional refugees followed. In 1687, a church was built on what is now the corner of Church and Queen Streets in downtown Charleston. About 450 Huguenots had settled in the Low Country by 1700.

After the original church was destroyed in 1796 in an attempt to stop the spread of a fire, its replacement was completed in 1800. That was dismantled in 1844 to make way for the present Gothic Revival structure, designed by Edward Brickell White and dedicated in 1845. The current church was damaged by shellfire during the long bombardment of downtown during the Civil War.  It was nearly destroyed during the earthquake of 1886.

In his book, Frank points out that the current church building was apparently built over part of the earlier graveyard. So there are more people buried there than the above-ground markers would indicate.

Today, the French Huguenot Church of Charleston is independent and not affiliated with any governing church body. It shares ties to the Presbyterian Church (Church of Scotland), the Dutch Reformed, and Lutheran Church by virtue of its early leadership under John Calvin. Calvin’s Institutes of the Christian Religion published in 1536 form the historic basis for the formation of these “Calvinist” denominations. Once a year, it holds a service in French as a way to harken back to its roots.

Portrait of an Artist

One of the first grave markers I saw was for Henry Breintual (I’ve also seen it spelled Brintnell) Bounetheau, the grandson of John Bounetheau and the son of Peter Bounetheau. It reads “who came to Charleston from La Rochelle, France on the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes of 1685. The last two are interred beneath this church.”

Born in Charleston in 1879, Henry was the son of Peter and Elizabeth Weyman Bounetheau. Peter is thought to have served in the American Army. Although Henry studied art as a boy, his chief occupation was that of an accountant and he later became an officer in the Bank of Charleston.

At the age of 46, Henry married 26-year-old Julia Clarkson Dupre in April 1844 in Charleston. Like Henry, Julia was of French heritage. She was educated at the Emma Willard School in Troy, N.Y. and studied art in Paris until a bank failure in 1838 forced her return to South Carolina. She helped her mother Juliana Schmidt Dupre open the Charleston Female Seminary in 1841 and taught there for several years. Henry taught there as well when he had the time.

Henry and Julia only had one son, Henry Dupre Bounetheau, sometime in 1845.

Both Henry and Julia were talented in the art of miniature painting, which involved loading a tiny paintbrush with color and dabbing it onto the surface of the ivory. Although Henry’s talent brought him several commissions from society clients, he never gave up his day job as an accountant. He was also a talented flute player.

The Bounetheaus owned a home in Georgetown, Fla. on the St. John’s River. It was there Julia died of a heart ailment at the age of 50 on Oct. 28, 1869. It’s likely that son, Henry, was living there as well because he was working as a clerk in nearby Jacksonville, Fla. before his marriage to Emma Hudnall in 1884. Julia was buried at the Old City Cemetery in Jacksonville, Fla.

Henry B. Bounetheau died in Charleston on Jan. 31, 1877 of “old age” and was buried in the French Huguenot churchyard. Son Henry D. Bounetheau died on May 3 during the Great Fire of 1901 in Jacksonville, Fla. He was buried beside his mother at Old City Cemetery but a few weeks later, both mother and son were moved to Evergreen Cemetery in Jacksonville. Henry had in his possession many of his parents’ miniatures that were destroyed in the fire.

Charleston Pioneers

One area Frank pointed out was a plain bricked area with a marker that I might not have even noticed. The Manigault vault, marked with a simple stone, is all that is left of a pioneering family of Charleston.

Born in 1704 in Charleston, Gabriel Manigault was a prosperous landowner and merchant. With slave labor, he turned his land purchases into successful rice and indigo plantations. Along with his increasing fortunes, he was active in local politics and represented Charleston in the provincial House of Commons. He married his wife, Ann Ashby, and they had a son, Peter.

Peter Manigault died at the age of 42 in 1773. His wife, Elizabeth, had died earlier that year. Gabriel died in June 1781 and Ann died in April 1782. All of them are buried in the Manigault family vault, along with some of Peter’s adult children. Initially, there were steps leading down into the burial chamber but at some point they were bricked over.

Grinning Skulls and Libraries

You can’t go very far in a Charleston cemetery without encountering a grinning skull and crossbones. Or a winged skull.  These are common in New England cemeteries. Before you assume it’s a pirate grave, I can confidently say that most of them were carved on stones for land-loving folk. As I’ve explained in past posts, there’s a reason behind such a gruesome image became a popular gravestone decoration.

The short answer it that the Puritans of the late 17th and early 18th centuries thought you needed to make the most of your short time on earth to ensure where you wound up after you died. This carried over into sending a message to the loved ones that you left behind when they came to visit your grave. The skull and crossbones were to remind them that living a good life would result in ending up in Heaven or in agony in hell if they didn’t.

According to Frank’s book, John was a native of St. Kitts in the Caribbean. Born in 1679, Neufville came to Charleston by way of New York. St. Kitts became home to the first Caribbean British and French colonies in the mid-1620s and was a member of the British West Indies until gaining independence on September 19, 1983.

John’s wife, Elizabeth, was considerably younger than him and their son, John Jr., was born when John Sr. was 60. Both men were Charleston merchants. John Jr. was instrumental in helping to establish the Charleston Library Society, which Frank and I visited later that day.

John died in 1749 at the age of 79 while Elizabeth died in 1754 at the age of 54. Son John Jr. died in 1804 and is buried with his wife, also named Elizabeth, at the FH churchyard near his parents.

I have much more to share from the French Huguenot churchyard. I’ll be back with Part II soon.

This is my last installment on Athens, Ga.’s Oconee Hill Cemetery. I’ve got some bits and pieces for you that I didn’t think you’d want to miss. My first item involves an initial mystery. One of my photos was of a time-worn angel monument that, as you can see, could use a good cleaning.

The only information on the monument I initially had was the following inscription:

Entered into rest.
July 21, 1892.
Annie
Only child of Wm. H. & Mary B. Waddel
Aged 21 Years

I went searching for Annie in the Athens newspapers but came up empty. Then I found a book called “The History of the Hulls” (she’s related to them) that mentioned she was married in 1891. That unlocked more of the story.

Annie was born in 1871 to William Henry Waddell (her last name is spelled Waddel on her monument) and Mary Brumby Pew Waddel. The daughter of Col. Arnoldus Vanderhorst Brumby, founder of the Georgia Military Academy in 1850, Mary came from a distinguished family. Her first husband, a Captain Pew, died. The details of that union are few.

Mary married again to William H. Waddell in 1870, a professor teaching Latin and Greek at the University of Georgia. William’s grandfather was Moses Waddell, fifth president of the University (1819-1829) and a respected educator/author. Interestingly, the 1870 Census lists Mary’s financial worth at $10,000 and her husband’s at $4,000.

“A Kind Husband, Father, Friend and Tutor”

William died on his way home from a trip in Millford, Va. on Sept. 18, 1878. His funeral notice was vague on the details of his demise. Mary and Annie went to live with her parents in Atlanta after William died. In 1883, Mary remarried a third time to Col. Walter Izzard Heyward, her former brother-in-law. He was previously married to her sister, Susannah, who had died on May 5, 1878.

Annie became engaged to Miles Green Dobbins, Jr. of Cartersville, who was connected to the Heywards. They were married on Feb. 4, 1891 at Kenwood, the Heyward home in Cartersville.

Annie died on July 21, 1892 in Cartersville. According to “The History of the Hulls”, she died “with issue”, meaning she had at least one child. Her funeral notice does not mention that or if she died in childbirth. Her monument was placed next to her father William’s grave at Oconee Hill. Why is her married name not on her marker? I don’t know.

Miles remained a bachelor for several years, remarrying in January 1905 to Estella Calhoun. She gave birth to a son, John, on Oct. 19, 1905 and died three days later at the age of 30. Little John went to live with with his grandfather and aunt. Miles died in 1930 at the age of 72 and is buried with Estella at Oak Hill Cemetery in Cartersville.  Son John died in 1948 at the age of 42 and is buried in the Calhoun plot at Oak Hill.

Annie’s mother, Mary Brumby Pew Waddell Heyward, died in 1917 at the age of 72. She is buried at Westview Cemetery in Atlanta with her third husband (both are in unmarked graves) and her sister (his first wife) in the plot of her brother, Lieutenant Thomas Brumby.

In the back corner of Oconee Hill is a separate area for the Congregation Children of Israel (CCI’s) cemetery. When Oconee Hill was established in 1855, part of it was set aside for the burials of the Athens Manufacturing Company in 1873. In turn, CCI purchased part of that land and maintains the CCI Cemetery today.

Birth of Athens’ Jewish Community

Athens’ Jewish community was founded by citizens of Filehne in the Posen Area of Prussia, which is present day Wielen, Poland. In 1872, Moses Myers, along with other leading Jewish Athenians, Caspar Morris, David Michael, and Gabriel Jacobs, petitioned the Superior Court of Clarke County for a charter of incorporation for the CCI.

In 1873, the Congregation purchased land at the intersection of Jackson and Hancock Streets. In 1884, the original synagogue opened its doors, and housed CCI for the next 84 years. In 1968, a new building was dedicated on Dudley Drive.

CCI’s cemetery has about 150 burials. I could find little information on the Internet about the people buried there. Near the back corner is the Morris plot, which features this large monument to Norma Marks Morris.

Born in 1874, Norma Marks was the fourth child of Simon and Pauline Stern Marks. I noted that Simon was 50 years old when he married Pauline, age 23, in 1866 in Athens. Simon, a dry goods merchant, was from Poland and Pauline was German.

Norma married Charles Morris in 1896, a traveling salesman for a clothing store in Athens. They had two children, Rosina and Simon. The 1900 Census indicates they lived with Pauline in those days. Simon Marks had died in 1888.

According to her death notice in the Athens Banner, Norma died on April 6, 1918 after a two-day illness. Her funeral was held in her childhood home, although both her parents had passed away by that time.

Charles disappears after the 1920 Census, and I cannot find a record of him buried in the CCI Cemetery.

One thing I noticed was this lovely garden bench created by the J.L. Mott Iron Works Co. of New York City, a company established in 1828. It is in very good shape considering how old it probably is. Mott also made fine quality porcelain sinks and bathtubs, some of which ended up in the White House.

There are two mausoleums in the very back corner of the cemetery, the Michael mausoleum on the left and the Morris mausoleum directly across from it. Although I took pictures through the glass of the doors of the Morris mausoleum, I could not make out exactly which Morrises are interred within it.

The stained glass inside features a menorah.

Behind the bench is the Michael family mausoleum. I was able to make out the names of Simon Michael (1859-1932), his wife, Anna Phillips Michael (1863-1945), and their son, Bert Michael (1893-1912). Also inside are Simon and Anna’s son, Max, and his daughter, Cecilia. I cannot make out whom the sixth person is, it may be Max’s wife.

Born in 1859 in Chicago, Simon Michael moved with his family to Jefferson, Ga. In 1882, he and his brother, Moses, opened Michael Brothers Wholesale and Retail Dry Goods Store. That same year, on March 14, he married Anna Phillips.

Over the years, they expanded several times. In 1893, they operated out of a five-story building, the tallest in Athens at the time. Their slogan was “Michael Brothers: Since 1882, the Store Good Goods Made Popular.”

By 1910, Simon and Anna had four sons: Morris, Max, Ernest, and Bert. Max was an attorney while both Morris, Ernest, and Bert helped Simon at the store.

A Son’s Sad End

Youngest son Bert completed his studies at the University of Georgia in June 1912 at the age of 18, but due to an appendicitis, could not attend his graduation. He was recovering at St. Joseph’s Infirmary (now Emory St. Joseph’s Hospital) in Atlanta when he died on July 28, 1912. Simon and Anna, who had been in Germany visiting family when he was transferred to Atlanta, made it home in time to be at his side when he died.

Because there is a date of MCMXII above the door of the Michael mausoleum, I believe young Bert was the first to be interred within it.

Gone in 39 Minutes

In 1921, a fire began in the Max Joseph building at the corner of Clayton and Wall Streets. Also present in that building was automobile retailer Denny Motor Company, which had drums of petroleum stored on the first floor. Within 45 minutes, the fire had consumed the Joseph building and both Michael Bros. establishments.

Moses and Simon noted that, “The commercial monument which we have striven through 39 years to erect was licked up in almost 39 minutes by the cruel tongue of fire and flame.”

The Michael brothers vowed to rebuild bigger and better. Opening in 1922, the new building was 55,000 square feet and designed by noted Atlanta architect Neel Reid. It was Athens’ first building with overhead sprinklers.

Many employees of the Michael Bros. store stayed with the organization for years. They also understood their customers’ hardships during the Great Depression, allowing them to add to their unpaid account balances. Both brothers were active in civic organizations and charitable groups.

A Tragic History Repeats Itself

The death of Simon Michael was sadly reminiscent of his son Bert’s in 1912.

In March 1932, Simon entered the hospital with appendicitis. The surgery was thought to be a success. On March 14, the day of his 50th wedding anniversary to Anna, he was recovering in the hospital. According to his death notice in the Atlanta Constitution, he had received many well-wishing visitors that day. It reads, “Friends believed the excitement of the day hastened his death.” His death certificate notes that heart disease was a contributing factor.

Moses continued running the store until his wife Emma’s death in February 1944. He died in November 1944. They are interred in a separate double mausoleum in the CCI Cemetery. Anna died in 1945. Son Max’s daughter, Cecelia, died at the age of 5 in 1917 and was placed in the mausoleum then. Max died in 1949 and joined his daughter, parents, and brother Bert inside.

Final Thoughts

Leaving Oconee Hill Cemetery, I thought about the years I spent in Athens and how much I grew and changed as a person. Most of what I learned was outside the classroom, I admit, in my interaction with the people I encountered. Some of it was downright painful, but most of it was wonderful. I met and became friends with a small handful of people I still consider dear friends today. It was the gateway to my life as a grownup.

I wish I had visited Oconee Hill back then, but I’m glad my family indulged my wish on a sunny Mother’s Day to discover a precious gem in a familiar setting. Maybe when football season is over, I can go back and visit the graves I missed.

We’re back at Oconee Hill Cemetery. This week, I’m looking at the history of some prominent Athenians whose family homes/buildings are still being used today in the Classic City.

As we moved toward the back of the cemetery, I discovered a large mausoleum that looked to predate the official opening date of 1855.

The son of War of 1812 veteran Col. Archibald Russell Spence Hunter and Elizabeth Wyche Lucas Hunter, Nathan Wyche Hunter was born on August 23, 1811 in Hancock County, Ga. He entered West Point in 1829 and according to his diary, he “never hated a place so bad in my life.” Accustomed to the comforts of his wealthy family’s home, West Point’s rough conditions were a rude awakening. But he soon acclimated to his rustic surroundings.

Noble Hearted Hunter

Although Hunter barely passed as the “goat” of his class in 1833 by scoring the lowest on the final exam, “Noble Hearted Hunter” (as he was called by classmate Francis H. Smith) was so warmly regarded by his fellow students that he was asked to give the valedictory address. The gesture moved him to write, “I had much rather have this expression of their confidence in my ability to perform such a task than to be head of the class.”

Hunter went on to serve in the U.S. Army during the Florida Wars and the Mexican War in Company H of the 2nd Regular U.S. Dragoons. Participating in the battles of Palo Atlo and Resaca de la Palma, he rose to the rank of Captain. He was in his 30s when he married Sarah Golding Hunter in Athens on August 18, 1846.

By that time, his service in Mexico had begun to take its toll. He returned to Athens on sick leave in 1848. His obituary describes it as “neuralgia” and that he became an invalid. Capt. Hunter died on April 24, 1849 in Charleston, S.C. at the age of 37.

I’m not sure what the bugle crossed with a flag-draped spear below a five-pointed star means. It’s possible that it has a connection to the Second Dragoons. If anyone reading this happens to know, please contact me.

Sarah Hunter died in 1865. A note on on Capt. Hunter’s Find a Grave memorial indicates that while there are six spaces inside the mausoleum, it is only occupied by Sarah and Nathan. They had no children together.

Not far away was a child’s grave that got my attention. More often they feature lambs but this one for Sarah Holliday was of an angel.

Sarah Holliday was the daughter of Athens physician Dr. Allen Cheatham “A.C.” Holliday and Cora McElhannon Holliday. Dr. Holliday was well known in Athens and appeared frequently in newspaper articles. Their home, the Holliday-Dorminey House, was built in 1901 and still stands today at 357 Hill Street.

Sarah was born on Dec. 23, 1907 and lived in the home pictured above. Sadly, for reasons unknown, she died at the age of 18 months on April 12, 1909. Her funeral was written up in the Weekly Banner newspaper.

The Hollidays had another child, whose name is unknown, that died in 1912 and is buried beside Sarah. Dr. Holliday died in 1939 and Cora died in 1956, both are buried with Sarah and the unnamed infant.

There’s another mausoleum at Oconee Hill that caught my attention. The name on it is for Sarah Jane (Billups) Taylor, wife of Richard Deloney Bolling (D.B.) Taylor. She was only 27 when she died.

Born in 1830, Richard D.B. Taylor was the son of Robert Walter Taylor and Elizabeth Bolling Deloney Taylor. Robert was a a wealthy cotton merchant and planter. Around 1844, he built a Greek Revival mansion as a summer home in Athens. When his three sons (including Richard) entered the University of Georgia, the Taylors became permanent residents of Athens.

That home, now known as the Taylor-Grady House at 634 Prince Avenue, still stands today and it was a familiar landmark to me during my college days. Owned by the City of Athens and managed by the Junior League, many grand events are held there.

Richard married Sarah Billups in 1852 and Robert gave the happy couple the house as a wedding gift. They welcomed a daughter, Susan, in 1855. Sadly, Sarah died on April 6, 1860 in Athens. The article detailing her death mentions her “last illness” indicating she had been ill often in recent months.

Richard and little Susan did not remain at the house long and they had moved out by the time he remarried in January 1863 to Catherine McKinley of Milledgeville, Ga. They had a daughter, Kate, on June 5, 1864. Richard died on July 14, 1864. His name is not inscribed on the mausoleum but because he is not buried with his second wife, I believe him to be interred in the Taylor mausoleum with Sarah. Catherine died in 1873 and is buried in Memory Hill Cemetery in Milledgeville.

“The Grief is Fixed Too Deeply”

The Taylor’s home was sold in 1863 to Major William Sammons Grady, who was away fighting in the Civil War at the time. He died in 1864 from wounds sustained in battle and is buried at Oconee Hill. His family did not move into the home until 1866.

Major Grady’s son, Henry W. Grady, then a student at the University, eventually became managing editor of the Atlanta Constitution and was known as an impressive orator, giving his famous “New South” speech in 1886 emphasizing the end of slavery and the need for reconciliation. As a University of Georgia student, I attended and graduated from the Henry W. Grady School of Journalism in 1990.

Susan Taylor married Frederick Lucas in 1876. Their first two children, John (1877-1878) and Richard (1879-1880), died in infancy and are interred with their grandmother in the mausoleum. Susan died in 1905 at the age of 57 and is buried with her husband beside the mausoleum.

There is a sad footnote to the history of this mausoleum. According to a report I found put together by the Chicora Foundation in 2014, the Taylor mausoleum was broken into in 2004 by vandals and three skulls were stolen. They have never been recovered.

The last person I’m going to talk about only lived 13 years and she was part of a large influential family. The Lumpkin/Cobb plot at Oconee Hill is pretty hard to miss. In the photo I took, you can see the iron truss bridge leading to the other side of the cemetery.

I could spend an entire blog post on this plot alone but I want to focus on the Cobbs. Lucy was the daughter of Thomas Reade Rootes (R.R.) Cobb and Marion McHenry Lumpkin Cobb. I wrote about Cobb’s brother, Georgia Governor Howell Cobb, in Part I.

Having grown up at Cherry Hill Plantation with Howell after his birth in 1823, Thomas graduated from the University of Georgia at the top of his class and was admitted to the bar in 1842. He took the position of reporter for the state Supreme Court, publishing several legal works.

Lucy was the first child of Thomas and Marion, born in 1844. Thomas had always been a champion of a quality education for both men and women. After reading an anonymous letter in 1854 published in the local newspaper about the sad state of education for females, Thomas began raising funds for a school for girls that went beyond a finishing school curriculum. He did not learn until later that the letter was written by his sister, Laura Cobb Rutherford.

“The Education of Our Girls”

Both Thomas and Marion were preparing for Lucy to attend the school after it opened but it was not to be. Lucy died of Scarlet Fever on Oct. 14, 1857 at the age of 13. The school was named in her memory and opened in January 1859. Thomas also helped established the Lumpkin Law School at the University of Georgia that same year.

Lucy’s younger sisters, Callie and Sallie, did attend the new Lucy Cobb Institute. But the Cobb family’s association with the school changed after one of the girls quarreled with a teacher. The Cobbs withdrew both children from the school. But Thomas’ niece, Mildred “Miss Millie” Lewis Rutherford, would later take over leadership of the school in 1880 and proved to be a wise, dedicated educator as well as an accomplished author.

Despite the school’s esteemed reputation, it did not survive the Great Depression and closed in 1931. The University of Georgia took over its campus, and used the main building as a women’s dormitory and eventually storage. Restoration efforts were completed in 1997 and it now houses the Carl Vinson Institute of Government.

While Cobb was a Unionist politically, he defended slavery as his brother Howell did and later pushed for secession. The original draft of the Confederate Constitution is thought to be in his handwriting. But Thomas Cobb didn’t get along well with his fellow legislators. He raised his own regiment of troops, Cobb’s Legion, in 1861 and led them as a commissioned colonel, taking part in the battles of Seven Days, Second Manassas, and Sharpsburg.

Death at Fredericksburg

In October 1862, Col. Cobb took command of a brigade formerly led by brother Howell Cobb and was promoted to Brigadier General. Soon after, he was killed on Dec. 13, 1862 at at the Battle of Fredericksburg in Virginia. He was 39 years old. Marion died on July 10, 1897 at the age of 75.

I will note that the Cobb’s home has its own interesting history. You can read about that here.

I’ve got a bit more to share about Oconee Hill Cemetery so come back for Part IV next time.

 

Last week, I started my new series on Athens, Ga.’s Oconee Hill Cemetery. I spent my college years just across the street at the University of Georgia but never visited until last year.

I featured a photo last week of a railroad track in the cemetery. I found out this week that in 1888 the Oconee Hill trustees agreed to let the Macon & Covington Railroad come through the cemetery. Before becoming non-operational, the railroad was owned by the Central of Georgia, one of the largest rail companies in the state.

In 1898, Oconee Hill’s original 17 acres were increased when an additional 81.8 acres were purchased. I’ll talk more about that next week.

The All-Seeing Eye

Sometimes I admire a plot simply because of the ironwork or fencing. The Singleton/Lucas plot’s monuments are not that remarkable but I was interested in the fact that the chains adoring the fence had survived all this time. Frankly, they usually end up being vandalized.

I can honestly say I’d never seen the “all-seeing eye” on the chains of a cemetery plot before. On grave markers and monuments, yes. But not on the fencing. The all-seeing eye, also called the Eye of Providence or Eye of God, has origins dating back to the Eye of Horus in Egyptian mythology. It appears in the iconography of the Masonic Lodge, Knights of Pythias and the Odd Fellows fraternal organizations.

When I started looking into the Singleton family, I realized there was another tie to the all-seeing eye. Born in 1788, Dr. Joseph James Singleton represented Athens as a state senator. But in 1837, he was was appointed to be the first superintendent/treasurer of the Dahlonega Branch Mint. I immediately thought of the “all seeing eye” that exists on our modern-day dollar bill.

Dahlonega Gold

But Dr. Singleton’s involvement with gold reached beyond coins. He had extensive gold mining interests in the area including the Singleton Mine. The Singletons continued to live in Dahlonega after he left the Mint in 1841. He took over the operation of the famed Calhoun Mine in 1847.

Son Joseph James Singleton, Jr. was born in 1827. A family story goes that in in 1839, when Joseph Jr. was 12, his father entrusted him with carrying gold coins from the Dahlonega Mint to the depository in Athens. Reasoning that no one would suspect a young boy of carrying anything more valuable than vegetables or grain, Dr. Singleton tied the gold in flour sacks and put them on the floor of the buggy.

When Joseph Jr. arrived in Athens two days later, the bank was already closed. However, when the boy explained that his heavy bags were full of gold from the U.S. Mint at Dahlonega, he was quickly allowed inside.

Heading to California

When gold was discovered in California in 1848, Dr. Singleton wanted to join other local miners headed west but Joseph, Jr. went instead. He didn’t find gold on a large scale so he returned home. By that time, Joseph had married Francina Rebecca Thomas. Eventually they would have nine children together, seven whom lived to adulthood.

Dr. Singleton died in 1855 of apoplexy at the age of 65. Where he was initially buried is unknown but he was eventually moved and buried at Oconee Hill Cemetery. His wife, Mary Ann Terrell Singleton, died in 1872 and is buried beside him.

At some point, Joseph J. Singleton, Jr. became a Methodist minister and served in that capacity for the rest of his life. According to his monument (shared by his wife), he was “for nearly 30 years a member of the North Georgia Conference”. He died in 1891 in Rome, Ga.

Ten years after her husband’s death, Francina Thomas Singleton died on Feb. 20, 1901.

Close to the Singleton/Lucas plot is the monument to Judge Young Loften Gerdine Harris. It’s one of the grander ones in that area.

Born in Jefferson, Ga. on June 22, 1812, Young L.G. Harris began practicing law in Elberton soon after being admitted to the bar. He married Susan Bevel Allen in 1835, a union that produced no children. He represented Elberton in the state legislature but eventually, for health reasons, the couple moved to Athens in 1840. In addition to representing Athens in the state legislature, he was elected judge of the inferior court of Clarke County which was later abolished. Thus, he became “Judge Harris.”

Judge Harris and Susan joined the First Methodist Church shortly after their arrival in Athens and gave much of their income to endeavors in support of Methodism. That included funding construction of a church in China and providing financial support for more than a hundred Methodist ministers

Following the Civil War, Judge Harris headed the Southern Mutual Insurance Company, a position he held until his death. The couple also donated two buildings to Oxford College of Emory University, located in Covington, Ga.

What would become Young Harris College began as the McTyeire Institute in 1886. It was established by the United Methodist Church with the purpose of providing the first and only educational opportunities to residents of the isolated area of Towns County in North Georgia’s Blue Ridge Mountains.

Because of the Harris’ financial contributions, the school was able to expand and its name was eventually changed to the Young Harris Institute in 1888, then Young Harris College in 1891. The town in which the school is located also took on the name Young Harris as well.

While Susan Harris shunned the spotlight, she was committed to community service, volunteering with the Athens Ladies Aid Society during the Civil War. After suffering from poor health for several years, Susan died on May 18, 1889. To honor her memory, Judge Harris funded construction of the Susan B. Harris Memorial Chapel in 1892 at Young Harris College. It is still in use today.

Carrying out Judge Harris’ Wishes

When Judge Harris died in 1894, his will stated his wish to leave some of his fortune to the school, which was heavily in debt. But because more than 40 members of his family went to court to contest it, the matter was in legal limbo for a while. By 1897, the litigation over the will was resolved by the Georgia Supreme Court, and the College received $16,000 from his estate.

While Young Harris College has weathered a number of challenges, it is still attracting students today. For many years, it was a junior college but the school now offers full four-year degrees and has an enrollment of around 1,425 students.

Eternal Flame?

As we were heading to a different part of the cemetery, I caught sight of the top of this marker. I’m used to seeing draped urns on grave markers but not flames. So I stopped to take a look. I’ve been told since that it represents eternity.

Born in May 1845 to jeweler William Talmadge and Sarah Young Talmadge, Clovis Gerdine Talmadge spent most of his life in Athens. He enlisted in Company D of the Georgia 11th Cavalry Regiment, rising to the rank of Captain. After the Civil War, he married Georgia Virginia McDowell.

“Stricken Down” at 51

Capt. Talmadge and his wife had three children, two of whom lived to adulthood that married and had children. He served as Athens’ mayor from 1876-1877 and again in 1880. He and his younger brother, Major John E. Talmadge, established a successful grocery business called Talmadge Bros. in 1869. John had served in the Civil War with Wheeler’s Cavalry, running away at age 16 to join the fighting.

Sarah died in 1891 at the age of 42. Capt. Talmadge is thought to have remarried in May 1892 to Mary Bishop but there’s no mention of her in his death notices. He mentions “my present wife” in his will but not by a name. I’m not sure exactly how Capt. Talmadge died because this account in the Atlanta Constitution is a bit vague. He died on his birthday on May 23, 1896.

I’ll leave you with the beautiful monument for Margaret Phinizy Lockhart, who died at the age of 34 on May 24, 1862 just two months after giving birth to her son, Jacob. The infant died only 11 days after his mother on June 4, 1862. He is buried beside her.

The Phinizy plot was damaged when a large oak tree fell on it in 2013 and Margaret’s monument was toppled. Thanks to donations from family members across the country, it has been restored to its former glory. Neale Nickels of Virginia Preservation Group completed the stone repair and restoration work.

I’ll be back next week for Part III.

I’ve mentioned on more than one occasion that I got both of my degrees at the University of Georgia in Athens (journalism and English literature). When people hear this, they usually assume that I’ve been to Oconee Hill Cemetery.

Truth be told, until May 2018, I’d never been! That’s a little embarrassing to admit but back in the late 1980s to early 90s, cemeteries were the last thing on my mind. I was a full-time student at UGA and an intern at the Athens Daily News. But it was definitely near where I spent a great deal of my time in those days.

I moved into Payne Hall on the UGA campus my junior year in the fall of 1988. Built in 1940, there’s nothing distinguished about the building except that famed NFL Vikings football player Fran Tarkenton lived there when he played for the Georgia Bulldogs during the late 1950s. I can remember waking up on Saturday mornings to the sound of eager fans passing by my window on their way to Sanford Stadium.

Sanford Stadium actually has a cemetery of its own. Georgia’s Uga mascots began coming onto the field in 1956. Sanford Stadium is the final resting place of each English Bulldog that’s served as the team’s mascot. The mausoleum includes an epitaph of their tenure. Moved twice since 1981, the mausoleum’s current location is near Gate 9.

When Mother’s Day rolled around last year, I asked if we could go to Athens and visit my old haunts. Getting inside Oconee Hill Cemetery was a “must do” on my list.

According to the cemetery web site, the first gravesites in Athens were located on unused portions of the college campus. That included the Jackson Street Cemetery, whose history you can read more about here. Because the burial ground had spread close to the homes of the president and the university’s professors, trustees urged the mayor and wardens of Athens to create a public cemetery for the community.

In 1855, 17 acres of land beside the Oconee River were purchased for $1,000 and Oconee Hill Cemetery was opened. Several graves at the cemetery predate the purchase. While most Southern cemeteries were segregated, Oconee Hill was noted for its policy of acceptance of all races, even during the 1800s.

Unfortunately, the socio-economic status of many African-Americans in those years means some graves are poorly marked. In addition, because early cemetery records were lost due to fire, it’s been hard to identify many African-American graves.

Football and Final Resting Places

Only a parking lot exists between Payne Hall and Sanford Stadium. Across the street from it is Oconee Hill Cemetery. To give you an idea of just how close they are, I took this picture. On autumn Saturdays, Athens comes alive with the roar of avid Bulldog fans but Oconee Hill’s residents remain silent year after year.

The first monument I photographed turned out to be a prominent figure in Georgia history and politics.

A native of Jefferson County, Howell Cobb was born in 1815. He was a University of Georgia graduate who apprenticed to become a lawyer. He married heiress Mary Ann Lamar in 1835 and they had 12 children, six of whom survived to adulthood. Thomas Willis Cobb, a member of the U.S.Congress and namesake of Georgia’s Cobb County, was a cousin.

As Cobb’s fortunes rose, so did his political ambitions. A Jacksonian Democrat, he was dedicated to a policy of moderation. He would eventually fill the roles of Congressman, Speaker of the House, Governor of Georgia from 1851-1853, U.S. Secretary of the Treasury under President James Buchanan and Civil War Confederate major general.

Abraham Lincoln’s election in 1860 shattered Cobb’s faith in compromise. He urged Georgia to secede from the Union and united with his brother Thomas Cobb and Governor Joseph E. Brown to spearhead the state’s secession movement.

A Confederate Major General

Cobb served as president of the Provisional Confederate Congress and entered the Confederate Army as a colonel in the 16th Georgia Infantry after it adjourned. During the Antietam campaign, his brigade was destroyed while fighting at Crampton’s Gap.

In October 1862, he assumed command of the district of middle Florida. Promoted to major general, he took command of Georgia state troops in September 1863. He surrendered to Union forces in Macon on April 20, 1865. Cobb died of a heart attack while vacationing in New York on October 9, 1868.

The next family plot I glimpsed nearby was for the Baxters. That name rang a bell immediately. While Baxter Street (also called Baxter Hill) is not long, it is a main thoroughfare on the UGA campus that all students spend time traveling. It’s lined with dorms, restaurants, college bookstores, and bars.

Sadly, much of the iron fencing around the Baxter plot has been piled up to the side and left to rust. The gate that says “1870” is still there but not much of the fence is still around the plot.

The tall, draped obelisk with a draped urn on top is for Thomas Washington Baxter and his wife, Mary Wiley Baxter.

The son of Revolutionary War veteran, Thomas Baxter born in Greene County, Ga. in 1789, Thomas spent his early years in nearby Baldwin and Hancock Counties. Baxter gained a reputation for heroism during the Seminole Indian Wars. He married Mary Wiley in 1815 and they had 11 children together. Six of their sons would serve in the Confederacy during the Civil War.

When Cotton Was King

The Baxters moved to Athens around 1831, where Thomas accepted the presidency of the Athens Manufacturing Company. It became a key part of the thriving Athens textile industry. Baxter was also active in investing his growing fortunes and had his hand in banking enterprises as well.

Thomas died at the age of 54 on Aug. 18, 1844 of tuberculosis. That’s several years before Oconee Hill Cemetery officially opened. So I’m of the opinion he may have been initially buried elsewhere and moved later. Wife Mary died in 1869 at the age of 70.

To the right of Thomas and Mary’s obelisk is another for Major William Edgeworth Bird, their son-in-law. He married their daughter Sarah (“Sallie”) in 1848. Major Bird died in 1867 at their Hancock County, Ga. home, Granite Farms, in 1867. He was wounded at the Second Battle of Manassas in Virginia during the Civil War.

Beside Major Bird’s grave is that of his daughter and Thomas’ granddaughter, Mary Pamela Bird. She was their third and youngest child, born in 1853.

Major Bird’s wife and Mary Pamela’s mother, Sallie Baxter, is not buried in the Baxter plot. Sometime in the 1890s, she moved to Baltimore, Md. to live with her eldest daughter, Saida Baxter Smith, and her family. Sarah died in 1910 and is buried next to her son, Wilson Bird, in Baltimore’s Green Mount Cemetery.

Across the way is the Childs family plot, which is dominated by a large monument featuring a woman holding a rope-encircled anchor.

Born on Dec. 9, 1820 in Springfield, Mass., Asaph King Childs learned the silversmith craft from his older brother, Otis. Asaph and Otis moved to Milledgeville, Ga. and they worked together from 1835 to 1846. After moving to Athens, they opened the Athens Hardware Company. Asaph also helped found the National Bank of Athens. Otis eventually returned to Massachusetts sometime around 1861.

In 1856, Childs married Susan Ingle. Together, they had three children, Frances (1857), Walter (1860), and Susie (1866). The Childs family was in Washington, D.C. in June 1872 when Susie died.

“Fell Asleep”

Susie’s marker fascinates me. It looks like an indentation was left for her death date but that ended up being carved below it. Instead the words “fell asleep” are inscribed there.

While those words may seem strange to see on a grave marker now, they were not unusual at the time. “Asleep in Jesus” is another such phrase. I consider them to be predecessors for the more modern “rest in peace.” Many believed that death was merely a momentary “sleep” from which the dead would rise when Christ returned. I think it was also a way, especially for those mourning the death of a little one, to believe that they were just sleeping and not gone forever.

Susan Childs died after a sudden illness in 1881 at the age of 49 and was buried next to Susie. Asaph died in 1901 at the age of 81 after a long illness.

I’ve just scratched the service at Oconee Hill Cemetery. There’s more to come in Part II.

 

Do you remember the old TV show “Gilligan’s Island”? During the show’s first season, the  theme song, near the end, included a lyric that goes, “And the rest!” That was the Professor and Mary Ann. As a bit of trivia, Bob Denver (who played Gilligan) demanded his costars be included in the song so it was changed in future seasons.

That early lyric fits the mood of today’s post as I wrap up my series on Macon, Ga.’s Rose Hill Cemetery. Here is “the rest” that deserves to be mentioned and talked about.

It should come as no surprise that there are a lot of Confederate soldiers buried at Rose Hill Cemetery. Some died in battle, others in hospitals of disease and the rest who survived the war and died later in life. According to a plaque, Macon became a key location for Confederate hospitals during the Civil War. Only Richmond, Va. is thought have had a greater number of wounded.

Visiting Soldiers’ Square

The first Confederate dead interred at Rose Hill were four of seven Macon soldiers who were killed in battle in Pensacola, Fla. in 1861. They are in the first row of what is known as Soldiers’ Square at Rose Hill. According to one witness, a thousand people attended the funerals.

After the war, Ladies Memorial Association president Jane Lumsden Hardeman initiated an effort to move those Confederate dead buried at various hospitals around the area to Rose Hill. She erected wooden headboards with the name, company, regiment and date of death for each soldier. She also helped organize the first Confederate Memorial Day at Rose Hill on April 26, 1866.

An estimated 884 soldiers are buried in Soldiers’ Square. Another 882 known Confederate soldiers are buried in private lots throughout Rose Hill. That brings the grand total to 1,746 known Confederate soldiers buried at Rose Hill. There are likely a number of unmarked graves but it’s uncertain how many.

The Book of Life

Sometimes I like something just because it’s different than the norm. The grave marker for Edwin Summers Davis and his wife, Camille Johnson Davis, fits the bill.

Born around 1877, Edwin was the son of Confederate veteran Capt. William A. Davis, who was a prominent banker in Macon and a member of just about every fraternal organization from the Masons to the Odd Fellows to the Elks.

Edwin got his degree at Macon’s Mercer University and married Camille Johnson in 1898. Most of his career was in selling insurance. The couple had three children.

Camille died first in 1931 of a cerebral hemorrhage. Edwin lived another 29 years before dying in 1960. Their “open book” marker is in the Davis family plot. It’s a clever way to present all the pertinent information.

When I was looking into the history of Rose Hill’s Hebrew Burial Ground, I learned that the cemetery actually has a total of seven different Jewish areas. Not all are labeled. The Hebrew Burial Ground, established in 1844, was the first Jewish cemetery established in Macon.

The first burial there was Leopold Bettman who died in August of that year in Perry, Ga. The second burial was his brother, David Bettman, who died in Hawkinsville, Ga. in October of the same year. In 1859, when Congregation Beth Israel was established, it took over the cemetery.

One of the markers I photographed there was for Lena Sack Roobin (1875-1896).

“She is Now Sweetly Sleeping”

Lena was born in 1875 in Bialystok, Poland, although it was part of Russia at that time. She emigrated to American and married Abraham Roobin. They settled in Cordele, Ga., and had one child together before Lena died of typhoid fever in September 1896. There’s some question as to the exact day.

This was her obituary from the Sept. 19, 1896 edition of the Macon Telegraph. Although it says she was buried in the Edward Wolff cemetery, she was buried in the Hebrew Burial Ground at Rose Hill. It also says she died on Thursday, Sept. 17 but her marker says Sept. 19, 1896.

By 1879, a new Jewish cemetery had opened within Rose Hill called the William Wolff Cemetery. According to the Jewish Federation of Macon and Middle Georgia’s web site, the Hebrew Burial Ground was not generally used after that, though there are some graves there that date into the early 1900s.

William Wolff Cemetery Opens

Larger than the original Hebrew Burial Ground, William Wolff Cemetery was named after the benefactor who donated the land for it. A slice of the predominately black Oak Ridge Cemetery next door was sold to him in 1879 to use as a burial ground for Temple Beth Israel Synagogue. Wolff was a prominent dry goods merchant in Macon for many years. He and his brother, Edward, were German immigrants who came to Macon in the 1860s. Both became very successful businessmen over the years.

There’s a story behind the monument to the wife of William Wolff, Bertha. She was born about 1852 to 1854 in Europe, and died Sept. 15, 1904. It only has her name on it with no dates. When I saw it, I knew at once who might have carved it but didn’t think to search it for a possible signature. Turns out it was on the back.

If you’ve been reading my blog for a while, this monument might look familiar to you as well. When I looked up her name on Stephanie Lincecum’s Rose Hill site, she confirmed that it was indeed done by sculptor John Walz. His best known work is probably the much loved (and photographed) monument of Gracie Watson in Savannah, Ga.’s Bonaventure Cemetery.

“The Heart’s Keen Anguish”

The woman holding calla lilies theme is one he favored a great deal. They usually represent marriage and fidelity. You can see similar figures Walz carved in the Davis plot at Laurel Grove South Cemetery in Savannah, the McMillan plot at Bonaventure Cemetery, and the Wolff’s in Macon. Only the heads are different, although the base of the Davis monument is markedly unique from the others.

Walz made an effort to replicate face of the deceased on the face of the monument’s statue based on photographs he was given.

The epitaph reads:

“The heart’s keen anguish only those can tell
Who have bid the dearest and the loved farewell.”

William died almost six years after Bertha on March 5, 1910 and was buried in the Wolff plot with her. His brother, Edward (a cotton broker and “linter”), died Aug. 25 of the same year after suffering a heart attack. He is interred in one of the few mausoleums in the Wolff Cemetery with his wife, Ricka, who died in 1936.

The Hebrew Aid Society burial ground was started in 1899 by newly arriving Eastern Europeans. Congregation Sherah Israel, who opened their adjacent section in 1923, gradually took it over by removing the wall separating the two areas, dividing the lots among the owning families in 1929.

Small areas for Congregation B’nai Israel (1870), the Workman’s Circle (1920) and the new section of Sherah Israel that opened in 1987 are also within Rose Hill Cemetery.

Origins of Oak Ridge Cemetery

Earlier I mentioned Oak Ridge Cemetery. When Simri Rose designed Rose Hill Cemetery in the 1840s, he set aside 10 acres for slave owners to purchase and bury enslaved people and to bury city-owned enslaved people. On Sept. 12, 1851, the Macon City Council officially designated that land as Oak Ridge Cemetery.

Of the 961 burials recorded between 1845 and 1865, only two names were recorded. “A free man of color named Hannibal Roe” was buried in 1846 and “Essex” because he was allegedly disinterred by local medical students in 1858. At least 1,000 formerly enslaved people are thought to be buried in unmarked graves at Oak Ridge. After the Civil War, many poor whites were also buried there.

One of the few markers I saw in the Oak Ridge area was for Julia Ann Brooks, the wife of John W. Brooks. She was born around 1824, Julia was a native of Richmond, Va. Julia and John are both listed as “mulatto” (an antiquated term thankfully no longer in use) or of mixed race. The 1880 U.S. Census lists John as being a retail grocer and their household included John’s sister, Mary Ann Brooks. It is interesting to note that Julia was at least 10 years older than her husband.

Julia Ann died on May 8, 1883. She was probably around 60 years old. Her marker says she was a “member of the A.M.E. Church and a consistent Christian.” A finger pointing down from the clouds (often thought to represent God reaching down for the soul) clasps a few blooming flowers.

At the end of the afternoon, I was hot, sweaty but very happy. It’s often how I feel after I’ve spent a wonderful day visiting a historic cemetery like Rose Hill with such a variety of marker styles. It also left me wishing I could spend more time wandering the rows and discovering more of the stories.

Perhaps that’s what is so compelling about visiting cemeteries, knowing you may someday return and learn more about “the rest” that’s quietly waiting to be discovered.

Yes, we’re still at Rose Hill Cemetery in Macon, Ga. I could write a book about this place and yes, some people already have. So let’s dive back in and visit some more graves.

“A Brave Little Fireman”

I often find myself drawn to the grave markers of the children and young people who left the Earth too soon. Rose Hill has quite a few. One that hit me square in the heart is this one for John B. Ross Juhan. I challenge anyone who sees it not to get choked up.

Like many little boys, John wanted to be a fireman. His fascination made him a frequent visitor to the Defiance Fire Company No. 5 in Macon, and they made him their unofficial mascot. I could find little about them, but I believe they were established around 1868.

Sadly, little John’s dream was not meant to be. He died on July 26, 1875 at the age of eight. In tribute to his love of firemen, this monument was made by stone carver John Artope (whom I talked about last week). The detail in the fireman’s uniform is unlike anything I’ve ever seen.

I’m sure there wasn’t a dry eye at this little boy’s funeral.

Not far from John’s marker is an equally eye-catching monument for a little one. When you catch sight of the intricate marker for 10-year-old Anna Gertrude Powers, you will be drawn to it instantly.

“Angels Her Companions”

The daughter of Virgil and Anna Jenkins Powers, Anna Gertrude was born in 1848 in Washington County, Ga. At the time of her death, she was one of six Powers children. Her father was a railroad superintendent. According to an article in the April 12, 1859 edition of the Macon Telegraph, Anna Gertrude died of scarlet fever as many children did in those days.

Part of her obituary reads:

Possessed of a bright and sparkling intellect — quick and tender sensibilities — an affectionate disposition and winning manners, Anna won her way irresistibly to the hearts of all who knew her. — She was the pride of a fond father’s heart, the cherished object of a mother’s love — her teacher’s boast, and the dearest companion of her schoolmates. Now God is her Father and Teacher — angels her companions — and heaven resounds with her hallelujahs of joy.

The carving of Anna Gertrude born aloft by two angels is of so intricate, it was hard for me not to touch it. One feature that’s not easy to see is the little necklace with a cross encircling the child’s neck.

The history behind the Heartwell/Tarver plot is a bit complicated but thanks to Stephanie Lincecum at Southern Graves, I untangled it.

“In Christ She Sleeps”

Let’s start with this monument to Cinderella Crocker Solomon Tarver Heartwell. She was born on August 22, 1832 to William Solomon and Frances Crocker Solmon. At the age of 22 in 1853, she married Paul Tarver, son of General Hartwell Hill Tarver and Ann Wimberly Tarver. General Tarver was thought to be one of the largest slaveholders in Georgia at the time.

“She Was Indeed a Precious Bud”

In 1855, Cinderella and Paul had a daughter named Dollie, and another daughter, Rebecca, was born in 1857. Son Paul Henry Tarver was born on Nov. 23, 1858. On May 15, 1858, Rebecca died. Then on June 19, Cinderella’s husband, Paul Tarver, died. Both he and Rebecca were buried at Rose Hill Cemetery. Rebecca’s death is recorded in the June 8, 1858 edition of the Macon Telegraph:

Our heart bleeds in tender sympathy with the parents of the bright little being whose death we chronicle. She was indeed a precious bud, whose leaves had not yet opened to the day.

Apparently Paul knew his end was near and had his will drawn up accordingly. Without his knowledge, with her brother Henry’s help, Cinderella purchased Cypress Pond plantation next door to their 5,000 acre estate. After Paul’s death, she and Henry sold off her home and she moved into Cypress Pond with daughter Dolly.

Tragedy struck again on July 24, 1859, when son Paul died. He was buried in the Tarver plot with his sister and father.

After Paul’s passing, Cinderella married Dr. Charles P. “C.P.” Heartwell of Virginia in 1861. His first wife, Martha, had died in 1850. In 1863, Dr. Heartwell purchased the Cypress Pond under his name (from Henry Tarver as Paul’s executor) at auction. In 1864, he and Cinderella welcomed the birth of their son, Charles P. Heartwell, Jr.

For reasons unknown, Cinderella died on April 4, 1866 at the age of 33. Having endured the death of a husband and two of her children, along with surviving the Civil War, she had faced more tragedy that many young women her age.

The angel figure on Cinderella’s monument stands beside an open book, which may symbolize the Bible or another religious text, or the Book of Life, which refers to a biblical passage in Revelation proclaiming that only the dead whose names are contained within will receive entrance into heaven. The book is perched on top of a tree, indicating a life cut short.

The monument’s inscription reads:

Thou is gone, but we will not deplore thee,
Whose God was thy ransom, thy guardian and guide
He gave thee, He took thee and He will restore thee,
And death has no sting, for the Saviour has died.

Dr. Heartwell remained at Cypress Pond with Charles Jr. until he remarried to Mary Wimberly in 1872. He died on Feb. 9, 1890 in Albany, Ga., but his burial site is not listed on Find a Grave. I don’t know what happened to Cinderella’s daughter, Dollie, but a Georgia State Supreme Court case in 1870 involved some issues regarding her inheritance between Dr. Heartwell and her uncle, Henry Tarver. Charles P. Heartwell, Jr. lived a long life and I believe there is a C.P. Heartwell IV.

A Confederate Naval Hero

This double grave for two children has a hearbreaking story behind it.

The parents of these little ones were Confederate Naval hero John McIntosh “Luff” Kell and his wife, Julia Blanche Munroe Kell. Before marrying Blanche, Kell had already served in the Mexican War and was a member of the expedition of Commodore Matthew Perry to Japan in 1853, and Master of the flagship USS Mississippi on the cruise home.

Kell married Blanche in Macon on Oct. 15, 1856. Their first child, Nathan Munroe “Boysie” Kell was born on Dec. 6, 1857. Another son, Johnny, followed in 1859. Daughter Blanche “Dot” Kell was born on Dec. 9, 1860.

As a Navy man, Kell was often at sea, away from his family. By 1861, he had resigned from the Navy and joined the Confederate forces. He commanded the Georgia state gunboat CSS Savannah but received a Confederate States Navy commission as First Lieutenant the following month and was sent to New Orleans. He then served as executive officer of the CSS Sumter during the ship’s commerce raiding voyage from 1861 to 1862.

Far From Home

In Blanche’s journal, she wrote of her worries about her husband’s departure in May 1861:

“When my bright boy awoke, he asked for his father and I told him he had gone far away, but that he kissed him many times for “Goodbye” the night before. He then said, “My poor Papa, I’ll never see him again.”

Another three years and four months would pass before Kell saw Blanche again. Daughter Dot died at the age of two on Sept. 24, 1863. Firstborn Boysie died a few days later on Sept. 28, 1863 at the age of six. Only son Johnny was left alive. I don’t know the causes of their deaths.

First Lieutenant Kell was on CSS Alabama throughout her career and was present when she was sunk by USS Kearsarge in June 1864. He was rescued by the British yacht Dearhound and taken to England. When he finally got back to his family in August, it was a tragic homecoming.

Promoted to the rank of Commander, Kell commanded the ironclad CSS Richmond in the James River Squadron in 1865. After the end of the war, Kell returned home to Blanche and became a farmer. They had several more children, most living to adulthood.

In later years, the family settled in Spalding County, Ga., and Kell served as Adjutant General of Georgia. He died in 1900 at age 76 and Blanche passed away in 1917. They are both buried in Oak Hill Cemetery in Griffin, Ga.

I have some loose ends to wrap up next week in Part IV, so I hope you’ll come back.

Last week, I shared the story of Southern Rock band the Allman Brothers’ connection with Macon, Ga.’s Rose Hill Cemetery. This week, we’ll go back a little further in history to explore the lives of some more of its residents.

Some of the information in today’s post is from work done before I ever visited Rose Hill. Stephanie Lincecum has been exploring and researching Southern cemeteries for 15 years. She has a few different blogs going, along with her main page Southern Graves. Her information has proven invaluable in my quest to get the stories behind the stones at Rose Hill. Thank you, Stephanie!

One thing I forgot to include last week was the first recorded interment at Rose Hill, which happened after the death of Caroline Danielly Wilson on Feb. 28, 1840. She was the wife of Col. David Wilson. The lot was owned by her brother-in-law, Alexander McGregor. Col. Wilson is not buried with her. I did find out he was one of Macon’s first aldermen, elected in 1833.

Caroline’s sister, Elizabeth, was McGregor’s first wife. He was a carpenter who died in 1856 of “bilious colic” at the age of 60.

One of the first grave markers I saw after we’d driven through the front gates and parked was for a dog. That’s something you don’t see every day in an older “human” cemetery. But clearly this canine was special and it soon became clear that he was.

The brown terrier that became known as “Lieutenant Bobby” belonged to Capt. David Clinton (D.C.) Harris, Jr. Born in Macon in 1897, Harris served overseas during World War I. Shortly afterr, he was attached to Company C of the 121st Infantry Division of the National Guard stationed at Fort Benning, Ga. They were known as Floyd’s Rifles, a nickname from their Civil War days.

Capt. Harris took Bobby with him everywhere and he soon became a favorite with the soldiers. Bobby received his commission as lieutenant in 1928 when papers were submitted stating that the dog had given years of faithful service. Apparently, President Calvin Coolidge signed the request and the terrier became the first dog to be commissioned in the U.S. military.

Death of a Loyal Friend

On Jan. 28, 1936, Capt. Harris brought Lieutenant Bobby with him when he went to visit friends at Macon’s Dempsey Hotel. Somehow, Lieutenant Bobby got away from him and the dog plunged down an elevator shaft to his death. Capt. Harris was devastated, as were all the men of Company C. Lieutenant Bobby was thought to be 12 years old at the time.

Lieutenant Bobby was buried in the Harris family plot at Rose Hill with full military honors on Feb. 9, 1936.

After Capt. Harris died on July 6, 1943 at the age of 46, he was buried beside Lieutenant Bobby. He was 46. I have no idea if Capt. Harris was married, had children, or how he died. His father, David Clinton Harris, Sr., is buried in the same plot.

Not far away from Lieutenant Bobby and Capt. Harris’ graves is the Hammond family plot. I include them because not only does it contain what I believe is the only one of two white bronze (zinc) markers in the entire cemetery, it also includes two cast iron grave coves and those are even more rare.

A native of Pickens County, S.C. born in 1806, Dudley Whitlock Hammond married Martha Eleanor Speer. He studied medicine in Charleston, S.C. before they moved to Monroe County, Ga. The Hammonds settled in Macon in 1853 and later, Dr. Hammond treated many Confederate soldiers during the Civil War.

One of the Hammond daughters was Rosa Ida, who was born on May 2, 1854. She married Wiley Barnes on Oct. 14, 1875 and the couple had two daughters. Sadly, Rosa died at the age of 30 on Oct. 14, 1884.

Rosa’s handsome white bronze monument is topped by a figure holding a Bible.

A Flower Just Blooming Into Life,
Enticed an Angel’s Eye
Too Pure for the Earth, He Said, “Come Home,”
And Sade the Floweret Die.

Buried beside Rosa is her oldest daughter, Minnie Barnes Bradley. She died in 1927 at the age of 51.

Younger daughter, Nettie, married twice and her husbands were brothers. First husband Henry Ross, an insurance salesman, died in 1905 when he fell from a moving train. Some thought he might have been pushed. Their daughter, Rosa, was named after her grandmother but died at the age of three in 1902.

Nettie then married Dr. Samuel Ross. She died in 1925 at the age of 44. She is listed as being buried at Rose Hill but there is no photo of her marker on Find a Grave. Henry Ross and Dr. Samuel Ross are both listed at a different cemetery in Jones County, Ga. Find a Grave has a photo of Samuel’s grave but none for Henry, whose obituary states he was to be buried at “the old family burying ground.”

Very close to Rosa’s monument are two very rare cast iron grave covers whose name plates have been lost to time. But I think they were most likely two of her sisters who died in infancy.

As I wrote some time ago, Joseph Abrams patented his cast iron grave covers in the 1870s and they can be found mostly in the Southeast. They were usually meant to protect the graves of children. Because of the fragile nature of the fretwork on the nameplates, many of those have vanished over the years. Several are also missing the finials on the top center of the cover, as are these. The finials were often molded in the shape of a sleeping child, a seashell, or the Bible.

“A Pure and Upright Man”

Dr. Hammond died in 1887 at the age of 81, still practicing medicine in his last days.  Elizabeth Hammond died in 1890 at the age of 75. Son-in-law Wiley Barnes and her grandchildren were still living with the Hammond family at the time of her death, her obituary notes. Wiley eventually remarried to Nona Nix in 1896.

On Dr. Hammond’s marker is the epitaph:

He Died as He Lived
A Pure and Upright Man

One of the more tragic stories I found came from looking up information on the marker for Lt. Robert Burgess and his wife, Rebecca Artope Burgess. Southern Graves provided much of the story you will read below.

Born around 1834 in England, Robert George Burgess was the son of Robert Burgess and Jessie Miller Burgess. The family soon moved to America and were settled in New York by about 1838. After the father’s death, the rest of the Burgesses moved south to settle in Macon around 1856.

“Snatched From Earth”

In 1862, Robert joined the Confederate Army with Capt. Massenburg’s Battery, Jackson Artillery. On March 10, 1864, Robert married Rebecca Artope in Macon. James B. Artope and Susan Raine Artope were her parents.

James was a marble cutter and stone mason who hailed from Charleston, S.C. In fact, you can see some of his work at Rose Hill Cemetery. Until I started looking more closely at my photos this week, I hadn’t realized it. In one of the Jewish sections at Rose Hill, the Waxelbaum boys share a marker with James Artope’s name on it. You can see it to the bottom right beneath “Waxelbaum”.

Tragically, Robert and Rebecca’s marriage only lasted five months. Robert’s obituary in the Macon Telegraph on Aug. 27, 1864 explains why:

Death in any form is sad, but to be suddenly snatched from earth while in the enjoyment of health and usefulness is sad indeed. Lieut. R. G. BURGESS, the subject of this notice, while examining an Ammunition Chest in Massenburg’s Battery, was almost instantly killed by the explosion of the chest, on the 12th inst. He lived about four hours after the accident occurred, and death came and relieved him of the intensest agony.

The Artopes would grieve again when Rebecca’s unmarried sister Julia Elvira Artope died in 1868. I believe she was in her 30s. Her monument is located in the Artope plot. I am fairly certain that her father, James, carved it himself but I did not see his name on it. At the top, it says “Meet Me In Heaven.”

James died in 1883 and his wife, Susan, died in 1901. They are buried together with several of their children at Rose Hill.

Rebecca never remarried after Robert’s death. In her later years, she shared a home in Macon with her mother, her spinster sister, Susan, and her bachelor brother, William. She died in 1925 and was buried at Rose Hill.

I’ve got more stories from Rose Hill to share so Part II is soon to follow.

There are several cemeteries that I often talk about visiting, but find myself not being able to make it happen. Rose Hill was in that category for years. Located about 100 miles and 2.5 hours from my house, it’s not that far away. But I don’t usually have that kind of time to set aside when I’ve got a house to run and a family to take care of.

Rose Hill Road Trip

But in April 2018, I finally made the trip. My husband and son were on a Boy Scout camping trip all weekend. My friend and fellow taphophile (cemetery enthusiast) Cathy and her roommate, Lynn, wanted to come along. When Cathy volunteered to drive, I was flying out the door.

We set out on a Sunday morning, the weather already promising to be hot and humid. That’s just a given in Georgia, even in April. You’re going to sweat!

Rose Hill is not the oldest cemetery in Macon but it is the largest at about 65 acres. In 1836, Macon was growing so a committee was named consisting of Simri Rose, Jerry Cowles, J. Williams, and Isaac Scott. They selected its location on the banks of the Ocmulgee River.

Simri Rose played the largest role in its planning, wanting to model the cemetery after the park-like grounds of Cambridge, Mass.’s Mount Auburn Cemetery. He set about planning the carriageways and plots, and planting many trees and shrubs, some of which were imported.

A newspaperman who founded what would become the Macon Telegraph, Rose was also a botanist, horticulturist, and florist. Because of his efforts in planning the cemetery (and other parts of the city), the mayor and council voted to name the cemetery after him and gave him his choice of lots.

Undoubtedly, the most famous residents of Rose Hill are the Allman brothers, Duane and Gregg. The two were part of the Southern Rock band the Allman Brothers. Buried with them is bandmate Berry Oakley. Thousands visit their gravesites every year.

That in itself would make them appropriate to write about. However, the Allman Brothers stand apart because they had a strong bond with Rose Hill Cemetery from the time they arrived in Macon in 1969 from Florida. It was a place of inspiration they valued and returned to often, especially in their early days when money was scarce but music was flowing freely.

The nature of that time was not always about music. Gregg Allman went so far as to say, “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have my way with a lady or two down there.” While I’m hopeful that’s not going on at the cemetery now, I’m sure Gregg was not the only fellow doing so back in those days.

I won’t got into the history of the band. But I want to share some of the lasting legacy of their relationship with Rose Hill and how Southern Rock pilgrims continue to make the journey to their graves to pay their respects.

Before our visit, I was not an especially big fan of the band and didn’t know much about them. My favorite song of theirs has always been “Jessica”.  Their songs “Whipping Post”, “Midnight Rider”, “Statesboro Blues” and “Melissa” are probably better known.

Slide guitar player and founding band member Duane Allman died at the age of 24 on Oct. 29, 1971 in a motorcycle accident. He was the first to be buried at Rose Hill. Bass player Berry Oakley died (or was “set free” as his marker says) on Nov. 11, 1972, also in a motorcycle accident that was only a short distance from where Duane died. He is buried beside Duane.

Southern Rock Pilgrimage

Because of the large numbers of fans that visit the graves, a fence was erected around them as protection. But it is easy to get a good photo through the fence posts and you can easily make out the inscriptions. A steady stream of visitors came by when we were there.

Gregg Allman passed away at the age of 69 from liver cancer in 2017, bringing enormous crowds to Rose Hill to pay their respects at his funeral. His former wife, Cher, was present among the many celebrity mourners.

When we visited Rose Hill, work had not begun on combining Gregg’s plot with Duane and Berry’s. It was cordoned off with plastic-flower encircled chains at the time, as you can see.

When I checked recently to see if progress had been made, I saw that much work had been done. Thanks to the photos of Mike Goldwire and Lou Evatt on Find a Grave, I was able to see it. Gregg’s new stone had been installed. The Allman family funded the entire project. It’s uncertain who the other empty plots are planned for.

The band’s song “In Memory of Elizabeth Reed” is actually based on a woman band member and guitarist Dickey Betts was dating at the time he wrote the song in 1970. To hide her identity, Betts named it after a woman buried at Rose Hill, and her grave is located not far from the band’s plot. But many think the song was based on the real Elizabeth Reed herself.

Was Elizabeth Reed Real?

I didn’t know where Elizabeth’s grave was was when we visited so I’m using a photo from Find a Grave. As the band’s first instrumental number, I wasn’t familiar with the title but when I pulled it up online to listen to it, I remembered it at once.

Elizabeth Jones Reed came to Macon to attend Wesleyan College. She married Confederate Army Captain Briggs Hopson Napier on April 26, 1865 and they had 12 children. Three died before reaching adulthood. The couple were farmers and Briggs Napier was at one point editor for the Monroe County newspaper. The couple also operated a local pub in Macon in the early 1900s. Elizabeth died at the age of 89 on May 3, 1935.

“Little Martha” and Duane Allman

The song “Little Martha” has a similar situation attached to it as the one with Elizabeth Reed. Many web sites claim the monument to 12-year-old Martha Ellis was the inspiration for the song. Again, that’s not exactly true. While the band members passed by Martha’s monument often and knew her name, the tune was considered by Duane Allman to be an ode to his then-girlfriend Dixie Meadows. He sometimes called her Martha because of her affection for vintage clothes. Duane would tell her, “You look like Martha Washington.”

But like Elizabeth Reed, Martha Ellis was real. Her father was a Civil War veteran who worked as a druggist before becoming a lumber merchant. Mother Eugenia Rogers was the daughter of Dr. Curran Rogers of Thomaston, Ga. Born in 1883, Martha was the youngest of their seven children.

Only a month before her 13th birthday in January 1896, Martha died of peritonitis (inflammation of the tissues of the stomach). The funeral was held at the Ellis home and she was buried at Rose Hill. Her parents died within two months of each other in 1923 and rest in the plot beside Martha.

“In the Sweet Bye and Bye”

The inscription on Martha’s monument reads:

She was love personified
and her memory is a sweet solace by day,
and pleasant dreams by night
to Mamma, Papa, brothers and sisters.
We will meet again in the sweet bye and bye.

The back cover of the Allman Brothers’ first album, aptly titled “The Allman Brothers Band” features the Bond family tomb, which was the last place in the cemetery that we visited. I had no idea that this site was so important when we were there but I’m glad I photographed it.

Here is the actual Bond monument above the tomb. Time, vandalism, and tornadoes have had their way with it over the years. At one time, there were supposedly four figures surrounding the base but they are long gone.

Born in 1815, Col. Joseph Bond was thought to be one of the wealthiest men in middle Georgia before the Civil War. According to Find a Grave, he was the state’s largest cotton grower and most successful planter. I’m not sure if that’s true. It’s reported that in 1857, he set a world record with a cotton sale of 2,200 bales for $100,000. On March 12, 1859, at the age of 44, Bond was killed by a former overseer he had employed by the name of Brown.

Take a look at what the tomb looks like today. As you can see, it gets a lot of attention from fans and at times, there’s been graffiti spraypainted on it over the years.

After our visit to Rose Hill, we enjoyed a very late lunch at H&H Soul Food Restaurant. It was another favorite haunt of the band. Founded in 1959 by Inez Hill and Louise Hudson, H&H briefly closed when Mama Hill died but reopened with Mama Louise’s blessing. The two were life-long friends of the band, and photos of the musicians are all over the restaurant.

I know when we walked out into the hot Macon sun with full stomachs that I can see (and taste) why people return to H&H year after year to chow down on their home-grown goodness.

At the same time, there’s a lot more to Rose Hill than the Allman Brothers. I’ll be back with more of that next time.