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F 74 MaFa
LIBRARY OS
CONGEN
1500
"IAM
THE RESURRECTION AND THE LIFE"
GATE-HOUSE AND
LODGE.
THE
WOODLAWN CEMETERY
IN
Horthy Chelsea and Halden.
" How must a spirit, late escaped from earth, - The truth of things new blazing in his eye, - Look back astouished on the ways of men, Whose lives' whole drift is to forget their graves !"
YOUNG.
RAR
LIBR
F CONGRES 1876.
-ITY of WASHING
BOSTON:
HIGGINS AND BRADLEY, 20, WASHINGTON STREET. 1856.
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1856, by
H. W. FULLER,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts.
BOSTON : PRINTED BY JOHN WILSON AND SON, 22, SCHOOL STREET.
INTRODUCTION.
THIS little book, hastily prepared, and originally intended
T for the proprietors of lots in Woodlawn Cemetery, is now offered to the public, in the hope that, with its illustrations and selections, it may not be unacceptable.
Since the consecration of this beautiful Garden of the Dead, no guide-book or directory relating thereto has been published. Meanwhile great improvements have been made, and much interest has been excited among persons familiar with the place. To extend this interest, and to supply such information and sug- gestions as may be needed to proprietors, citizens, and strangers, this waif is cast abroad.
The sketches by Mr. R. D. WILKIE, engraved by Mr. JOHN ANDREW, have been printed by Mr. R. M. EDWARDS in a superior manner; and with the Extracts, which are of a high order, will, we trust, be duly appreciated, and render ornamental and attractive what might otherwise be deemed a business matter.
iv
INTRODUCTION.
The public taste has become so refined on the subject of rural cemeteries, that the danger now is that too many and too small ones may be undertaken. The contrast between the un- attended, weedy, and neglected grounds of our forefathers, and the neat, tasteful, and ever-guarded rural depositories which of late years have attracted so much attention, is so marked, that we demand the modern treatment. But is it not the evidence which we see of constant vigilance, delicacy, and care, rather than the spot itself, which affords us gratification ? These ean be had only at great cost; to meet which, a large patronage and population are required, and consequently an extensive territory.
Mount Auburn, Forest Hills, and Woodlawn, each contain more than one hundred aeres. Small rural cemeteries may succeed for a time, but must eventually fall into negleet. Nothing less than a concentrated and liberal support, from a great multitude of persons, can sustain a rural cemetery of the first class ; and sueli Woodlawn aspires to be.
BOSTON, June 2, 1856.
CONTENTS.
Page.
ADDRESS, BY THE REV. GEORGE E. ELLIS . 9
ORDER OF EXERCISES AT THIE CONSECRATION . 34
SITUATION OF WOODLAWN 38
APPROACHIES TO WOODLAWN
39
GATE-HOUSE
41
RUSTIC WELL-HOUSE
42
RULES AND REGULATIONS 43
GREAT TOWER
44
ABRAHAM'S SACRIFICE . Willis 46
RECEIVING-TOMBS .
47
ALL MUST DIE
. 48
WHAT IS THE TIME FOR DEATII? L. D. G. 49
O PEACE OF MIND! . Goldsmith 50
SHRINK NOT, O HUMAN SPIRIT! . New Monthly Magazine 50
I OPENED NOT MY MOUTH B. Barton 50
LIFE COMETII OF DEATH Bryant 51
NETHERWOOD AVENUE
52
WOOD AND LAWN Moore, and Miss Gould 53 FOREST-WALK .
N. G. Gould 54
vi
CONTENTS.
Page.
WOODSIDE AVENUE AND GOTHIC AVENUE
55
BENJAMIN FARNUM, LOT OF
55
EDWARD PRATT, LOT OF
56
EDGEWOOD PATH 56
MONUMENT TO GEORGE II. ESTEE
57
MONUMENT TO WILLIAM W. ROULSTONE 57
FRANKLIN ENGINE COMPANY, CHARLESTOWN, No. 7 57
JOHN SMITH, FIREMAN, NOTICE OF
59
WARREN FIRE COMPANY, CHARLESTOWN
59
ANDREW JACKSON
. 59
VIRTUE ALONE SURVIVES
Herbert 60
CHESTER ADAMS, EsQ. .
61
DEACON JOSIAII BACON
61
LOTS NEAR THE ARCII . 62
RUSTIC ARCHI . 63
CHAPEL IHILL .
64
SYLVENDER FORRISTALL, CHILDREN OF
65
GINKO-TREES
HIALL MONUMENT
44, 65 66
FRIEND AFTER FRIEND DEPARTS . Montgomery 67
CURRIER FAMILY, NOTICE OF
67
JOHN SANBORN, LOT OF, AND INCIDENT
. 67
THE SEED MUST DIE-THE DEWDROP Trench 68
TEARS .
B. Barton 69
IS THERE NO RESTING-PLACE ? 69
HEAVEN
. 70
EARTH AND HEAVEN
Miss Gould 71
vii
CONTENTS.
Page.
JOHN M. BROWN, LOT OF
72
FIRST-BAPTIST CHURCH LOT . 72
REV. DR. STILLMAN - WHY MOURN YE? 72, 73
SIMON G. SHIPLEY
. 74
THOMAS DITSON, LOT OF 75
STAY, WEEPING MOTHER! 76
BALDWIN-PLACE LOT - REV. DR. TUCKER 77
METHODIST-EPISCOPAL CHURCH LOT . 78
MOUNT-TABOR MASONIC LODGE 78
CENTRAL-SQUARE BAPTIST-CHURCH LOT, E. B. . 78
REV. H. A. GRAVES - MRS. GRAVES - MRS. SYKES 80
" THERE IS A REAPER, WHOSE NAME IS DEATHI" Longfellow 81
FIRST TENANT OF WOODLAWN - MARINERS' LOT
83
" LOOK ALOFT "
J. Lawrence, jun. 85
FIELD OF EPHRON - GARDEN OF EVERGREENS 86, 87 " SLEEP, LITTLE CHERUB," &C. - OTHIER EXTRACTS . . 88
" BLESSED ARE TIJEY THAT MOURN" - OTHER PIECES 89,90
NETHERWOOD POND
. 91
ELM HILL - PEACE - HOPE AND THE ROSE - LIFE
92-95
PILGRIM'S SONG Miss Gould 96
THE ROUTE - THE FUTURE - CARE OF LOTS 97-99
INFORMATION AS TO LOTS . 99-102
FENCING, MONUMENTS, &c. . . 103
TOMBS AND VAULTS - INTERMENTS 104, 105
COMMUNICATIONS WITH WOODLAWN . 106
OMNIBUS - BRIDGES - SUPERINTENDENT . 107 PRICES
. 108
viii
CONTENTS.
Page.
AVENUES
. 109
PATHIS
111
PROPRIETORS .
. 112
OFFICERS OF THE CORPORATION
125
ยท
THE WOODLAWN CEMETERY organized Aug. 31, 1850. Grounds consecrated July 2, 1851.
Corporation confirmed and established . April 27, 1855. By special Act of the Legislature, then approved.
- REGULATIONS -
PO **
ENTRANCE
AVENUE.
(Fron tue Gat.)
ADDRESS
DELIVERED, JULY 2, 1851, AT THE CONSECRATION,
BY
THE REV. GEORGE E. ELLIS.
W E have come together from our living homes to set apart these fresh acres of the earth as a resting- place for the dead. The most cheerful influences of nature are around us and over us. Our theme is not a cheerless one, save to the unthinking and the undevout, who omit from their view of life its divine element, and see in its close only the termination both of happiness and of hope. Our theme has lessons as bright and soothing as are these present aspects of nature : the heart is sensitive to some precious emotions which no other theme can stir. The cool water-course flows beside us ; the trees wear their summer garb ; the sun is performing his flaming ministry of life ; the birds enjoy their brief day ; the glorious expanse above us spreads as wide as does our largest hope. We have been educated by the spirit and the les-
2
10
REV. GEORGE E. ELLIS'S ADDRESS.
sons of a faith which has rolled away the stone from the sepulchre, and brought immortality to light.
Appropriate rites, the solemn hymn, the uplifted prayer, the thoughts and words which the occasion and place call forth, the calm and seemly spectacle which we now make . and look upon, are to leave a spell upon these scenes. We trust that these acres will find no other use than as the last bed for mortal clay, while the present bounds of civilization remain. Though very near to us are now incessantly in motion the thousand sounds of the busiest scenes which the surface of the whole earth can present, their din and turmoil are silenced here. The dead and the living will not be too far apart for such communication between them as necessity and sympathy will require. But these green slopes which skirt the horizon are the proper boundaries of this spot. There are still some broad acres amid these busy regions which have wit- nessed only the toils of healthful husbandry. Their annual crops have nourished the living. Birds and squirrels have still a home here, and we give them leave to remain.
We have come to consecrate this broad enclosure, its green turf, its forest-thickets, its water-courses and fountains, its quiet seclusion, and every shrub and flower which shall grow here. And what is the consecration of this spot ? Now, while the sod has as yet been pierced
11
REV. GEORGE E. ELLIS'S ADDRESS.
for but a single grave,* we consecrate it by devoting it to its destined purpose ; for that is to our minds a sacred purpose. We consecrate it by passing over its fenced bounds in the hushed and meditative mood which our thoughts here wear. We consecrate it by connecting with it now those lessons, tender, sad, and yet elevating, which, we trust, will be deepened year after year in un- numbered breasts, - each lingering over its own most cherished parcel of earth, the shrine of its own remem- brances and loves. Henceforward it will receive a fuller consecration from the dust which it shall gather, and from the mourners who shall follow it hither. When, from those clustering homes which sweep the horizon around us, shall have been brought here, one by one, the honored, the useful, the cherished, the little babe or its mother, the father, lover, bride or friend, the silent forms of the youthful or the aged; and when from those homes these buried treasures, not forgotten, though mysteriously veiled, shall draw hitherwards the meditative steps of survivors, -then shall these scenes be truly consecrated. All that is deep and constant in human affection shall prove its power here. That little secret stream which fills the tear-channel of the human eye, and which is dried up
* The first interment was made in these grounds on the afternoon of the day preceding that of their conseeration.
12
REV. GEORGE E. ELLIS'S ADDRESS.
only when they that weep are themselves bewept, shall here pour forth its precious drops. Each sod shall by and by receive its nutriment from those tears. The harvests of every autumn shall increase their gatherings here. And when the spring unlocks the fetters of winter, faith shall here brighten and console the hearts of the submis- sive and the trustful. The prayers that shall here be breathed into the air will be as many and as fervent as have been caught by the walls of the oldest temple. And this will be consecration.
The most ancient records of man's life on the earth present us with three chief tokens to mark the possession of a portion of its surface as an abiding-place of human families : the well of water, the altar of worship, the tomb or cave for the dead. With what an impressive power - the force and beauty of simple truth - does that combination of the well, the altar, and the tomb, affect us! They lead us back upon the tide of ages, and bring us to the first habitable spot of the earth. The altar rising above the soil, the well and the grave beneath it, express to us the three great natural wants of man. Life's chief necessity, its divine law, its inevitable issue, are thus presented to the eye and to the mind. Amid our ten thou- sand wants, behold the three which crown them all, and one of those three the body's lonely and everlasting couch ! The well-spring gathering its crystal drops from the secret
13
REV. GEORGE E. ELLIS'S ADDRESS,
depths of the earth, and receiving them back again when man had used them and a heavenly distillation had re- newed their purity, was a token that near to it grass would grow, and man and beast find sustenance. The rude altar-stone, which no tool had touched, was raised upon some overlooking summit : kneeling around it, the patriarchal family called upon themselves the name of God, and thus recognized that everlasting, that universal truth, the basis of all clear thought, knowledge and science, as well as of all religion, - that this earth, and all its elements and tribes, depend upon the loftier influences of the sky, and owe allegiance to the unseen Centre and Source of power, whence comes forth the energy that controls and blesses. When the life that had been nourished by food and water, and kept mindful of a divine oversight by the altar, came to its appointed close, there lay a cold and changing body, a forsaken tenement; and the mourner said, " Let me bury my dead out of my sight." Then the dust returned to the earth as it was.
There is a charm in those pastoral images which come up before our minds, as we read of the ancient wells of Canaan. The fervor and glow of true worship, as an exercise apart from all but the heart's own attitude, kin- dles through our spirits, as we read of the altars upon Horeb, Bethel, Carmel, Zion, and Gerizim, and upon every other summit over which the pilgrimages of the
14
REV. GEORGE E. ELLIS'S ADDRESS.
patriarchs led them. But what can surpass in tender pathos that scene and those words in which the aged Jacob, dying in Egypt, turns away in loathing from its mummy tombs, as he remembers the resting-place of his family, and gives to his sons a commandment concerning his bones ? - " I am to be gathered unto my people : bury me with my fathers in the cave that is in the field of Machpelah, in the land of Canaan, which Abraham bought with the field of Ephron the Hittite, for a possession of a burying-place. There they buried Abraham, and Sarah his wife ; there they buried Isaac, and Rebekah his wife ; and there I buried Leah." The tent for the living was movable ; but the well, the altar, and the tomb, were permanent. It was through those three tokens of an inalienable possession, as the vouchers of a title, sure and sufficient as our modern deeds, that the patriarchal family, returning from an accidental though protracted sojourn in Egypt, claimed their inheritance in Canaan.
Wells, altars, and graves, the earliest, the universal tokens of man's presence on the earth, the most essential objects of his interest, are also the most enduring of his works. They multiply as do the tribes and numbers of our race. They retain the same relation to each other and to human life, and the same proportion, as of old ; for men everywhere need them all alike. Where we find things so inseparably related and connected, there is ever a sort
15
REV. GEORGE E. ELLIS'S ADDRESS.
of sacred beauty in their union. This relation is to be recognized here. The water already flows in a pure stream ; the altar of prayer is to stand on yonder rising ground ; and all around us are to be graves. .
To these hidden repositories of the earth have been committed, age after age, unnumbered multitudes. How much of the earth itself is already a cemetery ! How large a portion of its material elements has been wrought into human bodies! The idea of a transmigration, of a perpetual circuit of spirits, from one to another form, higher or lower in the scale of organized life, if but a mere fancy as regards the intelligent essence of man, is plain fact as regards the substance of human bodies. I have spoken of these as fresh acres of the earth, as yet unfamiliar with the processes and trophies of man's decay. But how know we that ? Who can tell what remains of races, before our brief historic age here, may mingle with this soil ? It may be as the poet writes, that -
" This green mould, the mother of bright flowers, Was bone and sinew once, now decomposed; Perhaps has lived, breathed, walked as proud as we, And animate with all the faculties And finer senses of the human son! ! And now what are they ? To their elements - Each has returned, dust crumbled back to dust, The spirit gone to God ! "
How healthful is the chemistry of nature's laboratory, which can thus dissolve with a gentle but irresistible force
16
REV. GEORGE E. ELLIS'S ADDRESS.
all organized forms! How beautiful are those patient pro- cesses of the elements, as they work on kindred materials their renewing toils ! God open the eyes of our under- standings, and quicken the sensibilities of our hearts, that we may enter into this rich wisdom, and be led up to him, its Fount, its Teacher !
The whole large compass of human thoughts and feel- ings has exhibited itself in the modes of disposing of the dead. Passion, affection, fancy, and superstition have had in this their freest range, and the philosophy of humanity might be illustrated by the views and usages connected with the departed of our race. Dread horrors have deep- ened the gloom which rests over the last rites of mortality. Barbarous ceremonies and cruel sacrifices, howlings, in- cantations, and the appalling frenzies of real or feigned despair, have settled over the funeral forms of the darker heathenism. The word funeral-derived as it is from the word which signifies a torch - still perpetuates a me- morial of the ancient custom of midnight burials. Many of our sad images of death come from those barbaric fashions which we have put aside. And then again, by that inconstant action of the human mind, so marked in all the devices and conceptions of bewildered man, these horrors vanish ; these barbarous rites, these appalling so- lemnities, pass like dark clouds lifted up from some sun- nier portions of the earth, some tribes or peoples of a
17
REV. GEORGE E. ELLIS'S ADDRESS.
gentler and finer fancy. Some of the most delicate and beautiful conceptions of poetry, some of the fairest fashion- ings of a dreaming brain, images and visions which wear the hue of remotest distance under the haze of light and shade, cover with the mysterious charm of classic draperies the naked form of death. Yet even of these, while they contain enough of higher sentiment to prove their affinity with the workings of man's nobler part, we must admit that they are mingled with mean imaginations and puerile fancies, to prove that the spirit was venturously groping amid things all unknown, and unillumined by the faith which turns to a heavenly country. Comparing the ancient heathen devices with the simple proprieties of Christian burial, we are reminded that these funeral rites have been burdened with all the gloom of superstition, and have been cheered by all the radiance of the spirit's brightest hope.
The various methods which have been employed through all time for the disposal of mortal remains, range themselves under one or another of three leading purposes in the minds of survivors. The first designed to resist or delay the dissolution of the body, and had recourse to em- balmment. The second sought to hasten that dissolution, and, to that end, heaped the funeral pyre and applied the torch. The third method committed the body to the earth, and left it to the appointed processes and dealings of nature.
3
18
REV. GEORGE E. ELLIS'S ADDRESS.
The poor devices of Egyptian art to avert the waste and dispersion of the elements of a human body required a violent dealing with it which was inconsistent with the purpose itself, and have been defeated and sadly mocked in the result. The organs of life and breath and thought, the heart, the lungs and brain, indeed all but the mere muscles and bones of the dead body, were withdrawn, that their places might be supplied by gums and spices. So that, after all the toil and pain, the linen bandages and the sealed coffin preserved only a part of the wreck of a human form. Preserved it! yes ; but how long, and for what a fate at last ! - for a fate far less meet and seemly than the gentle and sure dealing of the kindly earth, which would hide the shame, and manifest only the glory, of man. Some of those mummied relics have been torn from their ancient vaults to be made gazing-stocks in the museums of modern cities : these are supposed to be chosen specimens of the royal, the priestly, the mighty, and the honored, because of the splendor of their incase- ment. But for the millions of the common dead which heap the catacombs of Memphis and of Thebes, of Luxor and of Karnak, the necessities of the living have found a use. The wretched Arab wanderer will prepare his even- ing meal this night by a fire kindled from these pitchy relics of the elder race of Mizraim.
Two reasons have been imagined for this Egyptian cus-
19
REV. GEORGE E. ELLIS'S ADDRESS.
tom of embalmment : one, that it was designed to prevent the distempers or plagues which would have attended the corruption of the dead in the crowded regions of a hot clime ; the other, a fond belief that the spirit would yet return to its forsaken body, and that, so long as its parts could be kept together, there would be hope of its re- awakening to life. The latter reason is most conformed to what we know of the religious opinions of that race and age, and of their influence upon the customs of those who held them. But who that sees, as we see, the disappoint- ment of that doting purpose, -the preservation of the body, - could have the heart to entertain it now ? Or who would risk his hope of future being on so slender a chance for its fulfilment ?
The rich melodies of the old Greek and Roman poetry describe to us the funeral flames which dissolved into ashes the old heroes of those classic isles and lands. Achilles consumed to ashes the remains of his friend Pa- troclus, which were deposited in a golden urn beneath a mound, till the ashes of Achilles himself were mingled with them, and the friends met again in the shades. Hec- tor was burnt before the walls of Troy. Great generals, monarchs, and renowned men, were honored with all the spectacles and ceremonies which could exalt these obse- quies of flame. Luxury and ostentation in ancient Rome magnified the funeral rites by burning the dead with
20
REV. GEORGE E. ELLIS'S ADDRESS.
polished or fragrant wood, and pouring upon the fire liba- tions of wine. The ashes, gathered in an urn, were depo- sited in the sepulchre beside the vase that held the tears. Chaldea exposed the flesh of the dead to chance or to beasts, and was anxious only to preserve their bones. The Scythians hung their dead in the air. We read of tribes who have used the sea for a burial-place, while others have shrunk from its awful caverns.
The just conclusion, from all the various opinions and customs of different people through the whole recorded history of our race, has now settled upon interment as the natural disposal of the dead. No embalmment will pre- serve the body ; and, if it would, wherefore should it be preserved ? Corruption cannot inherit incorruption. There are no objections to the funeral pyre, save that it is unne- cessary, as doing at a price what nature will do freely, and that it wears the show of a harsh process with mortal clay, whose shapings and features have been dear. Scripture doth not sentence us to ashes, but to dust, in our burial : " Dust thou art, and unto dust thou shalt return." So have Jews and Christians, who revere that Scripture, been content to allow the dust to return to the earth as it was. Turning with loathing from all barbarous rites, from all artifices and dreary deceptions of the sight, we have learned to adorn with simplicity our Christian burials. The sepa- rated and consecrated spaces are called by Germans the
21
REV. GEORGE E. ELLIS'S ADDRESS.
" fields of hope ; " by the Dutch, "God's acres ; " but best of all by us, our burial-places.
The necessities of the times, the changed circumstances in the modes of civilized life, have demanded these ceme- teries. Village churchyards and city burial-grounds no longer suffice. But let us not forget or be insensible to the uses -the good uses -that are in them. Our own English ancestors on this soil were but little influenced by considerations of taste in the selection of fields for the interment of their dead. Their religious views, and their relative estimate of all such matters, would not dispose them to give much heed to the adorning of the body's resting-place. Convenience was the chief consideration with them on this point. It was not their general custom to connect the graveyard with the meeting-house. On marking out the bounds of a new precinct in the wilder- ness, and allotting woodland, upland, and meadow to the planters, they generally selected some dreary spot, whose sandy soil would make the labors of the spade easy for the burial of the dead. Yet those rough beds of earth have in their keeping much precious dust.
But those churchyards, as they are so truly called in the smaller villages and hamlets of Old England, how beautiful they are ! In such retired spots as those in which the population does not increase, and the propor- tion between the consecrated ground and the numbers of
22
REV. GEORGE E. ELLIS'S ADDRESS.
the villagers is such as to allow to the few that die each year their own graves, there is a charm about the church- yards which our cemeteries will never have. If the dust of the sleepers is there disturbed, it is only that that of rude forefathers may mingle with that of their descendants ; and this is but a kindly violence. Time and nature, year by year, sweeten and smooth enough of the soil to give a peaceful bed to the scanty number who " fall on sleep " with each round of the seasons. It is all kindred dust, and the children are gathered to the fathers. The old church rises with quaint and massy repose, seated firmly amid the graves which tell so touchingly of human insta- bility. Within, the aged walls and the oaken benches have gathered impressive associations. Occasionally, the lofty monument of the lord or lady of the manor, or the knightly effigies, will perpetuate just enough of worldly distinctions to show that they are vanity. In the yard around the church, full, but not crowded, are the tablets, headstones, and memorials of the humbler dead. Who that has ever lingered about some of those ancient hamlet churchyards, at the close of the Sunday service, has not felt the sweetness and pathos of their power ? The vil- lagers are spelling out the names of their remote ancestry, or recalling the memories of the recent dead, whose ani- mosities are hushed, whose love only revives. In the lone corner by the wall, rest the chance wayfarers, the
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