101 Ways, Part 101: I Am Only Going Into Another Room

For a brief intro to the "101 Ways to Say 'Died'" series, click here.

Here we are. More than a year after I started documenting the many synonyms for "died" carved on New England gravestones, I've reached 101. I was holding out for one that said "The End" or something similar, but, as yet, I've had no success in finding one.

Thanks to Emily G. for sending me this lovely example from Mount Auburn Cemetery in Cambridge, MA. I don't know the year or the deceased's last name, but it looks to be a mid-19th-century stone. Under the name, James, it says, "I AM ONLY GOING INTO ANOTHER ROOM."

Although I've reached 101, I still have a few more examples to post. I'm sure that I'll continue to find more over the coming years — perhaps I can drop some of the earlier entries that are similar to one another (i.e. "killed by a cart" vs. "killed by a wagon").

One thing I've never seen on a pre-1850 gravestone: "Passed Away."

"For Boy or Girl"

After writing that post about telling boys from girls in 19th-century photographs, I came across this ad in a 1904 issue of The Youth's Companion.

The Siegel Cooper Co. of New York sold unisex children's clothing under the headline, "FOR BOY OR GIRL." The photographs give few clues as to the gender of the models.

The ad reads,

These two Special numbers are exceptional values in Children's wear. On for "every day," neat and serviceable. The other for "best," but also serviceable. Order one of each and see the value for yourself. Your money refunded if you are not perfectly satisfied.

Larger pics below the fold.

How Much Did Gravestones Cost?

This is one of those basic factual questions that should be relatively easy to answer, but isn't. I have a few data points from different times, workshops, and styles of stone that suggest that the answer is, unsurprisingly, "it depends."

The records of the John Stevens Shop in Newport, RI provide some of the best information. During the 1730s, the Stevens shop charged £12-15 for a table-like "Tomb Stone," £1-3 for pairs of upright gravestones, and 2 pence per letter for inscriptions.

Thus, the heirs of Captain William Wanton paid £17, 5 shillings, and 6 pence for his elaborate tombstone on December 24, 1733 — £15 for the stone and the rest for 273 letters.* A year earlier, Samuel Lindon paid £3, 8 shillings, and 4 pence for a pair of gravestones with a 40-letter epitaph "for Priscilla."

Cow and Tubas

Today, Prof. Harvey Cox celebrated his retirement with a Jersey cow and an all-tuba brass ensemble. The story is getting some press coverage.

The cow was very calm, even with a hundred people crowded around.

Names of Colonial New England Residents Appearing on This Blog That Make Dangerous Google Searches

Freelove Ball

Desire Bull

(Those links bring you to pictures of gravestones, fyi.)

Father of All Living

In Good Wives, Laurel Ulrich writes about colonial New England women's role as Eve, Mother of All Living. In that chapter, she argues that the fulfillment of a woman's role as mother came when she saw her children's children flourish.

I have found several references to women's abundant fecundity and matriarchal achievements on their gravestones, the most notable example being the Lois Cook Bartlett stone in Brunswick, ME.

On occasion, I also find this theme on men's gravestones (see Daniel Tyler, Brooklyn, CT). My most recent addition to this collection is the Elijah Shattuck stone in Pepperell, MA.

ELIJAH SHATTUCK

DIED

OCT. 30, 1841,

AE. 88.

He was the father of

8 Children,

13 Grandchildren

& 33 Great Grand

Children.

Great Seal of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts

The Great Seal of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts is not the most elegant of state seals. Most state seals are cluttered and Massachusetts' is cleaner than some (I'm looking at you, Wisconsin, Oregon, and Hawaii), but it still has a lot going on. There's no harmony between the elements: a random star, an out-of-proportion arm floating vaguely above the shield, and a wordy, counterclockwise banner surrounded by clockwise Latin outer ring.* At least Massachusetts' seal only uses four colors — Montanans and Californians need the big box of Crayolas.**

Massachusetts' seal features several elements:

a shield having a blue field or surface with an Indian thereon, dressed in a shirt and moccasins, holding in his right hand a bow, and in his left hand an arrow, point downward, all of gold; and, in the upper corner of the field, above his right arm, a silver star with five points. The crest is a wreath of blue and gold, on which in gold is a right arm, bent at the elbow, clothed and ruffled, with the hand grasping a broadsword.

The motto, "Ense petit placidam sub libertate quietem" ("By the sword we seek peace, but peace only under liberty") was written by Algernon Sidney, presumably sometime before he was executed for treason.

My favorite part of the seal has always been the disembodied arm swinging the sword. There's a Massachusetts monument at Gettysburg that has an arm rising out of the top — when I was a child, it always made me think of zombies.

According to the Secretary of the Commonwealth, the sword was first added to the seal in 1775, but it doesn't seem to have become disembodied until at least 1780. Yet, we find it on the Benjamin Chamberlin gravestone in Pepperell, MA (dated 1778):

There are a few possibilities here:

• the arm and sword motif may have been circulating in Massachusetts before Nathan Cushing designed the seal in 1780
• the Benjamin Chamberlin stone may have been carved after 1780

Has anyone seen the arm and sword on an object that can be positively dated pre-1780? If not, the second possibility seems more likely. It might help me determine how long it took for communities to erect gravestones for men who died far from home during the Revolution.

THIS MONUMENT

Is Erected in Memory of

Mr. Benjamin Chamberlin

who departed this Life

in the Continental Army

at Valleyforge in the

year 1778; In ye 17th

year of his Age.

He was ye Son of Mr. Phineas Chamberlin

and Mrs. Lydia his wife.

*I say this, of course, with the caveat that I know nothing about heraldry. It may fit the conventions very nicely, but I still think it's ugly.
**The best state seals (in no particular order): Rhode Island, Texas, Louisiana. Mississippi would be a contender if they hadn't just lifted their design from the US seal.

My Cat is Famous on the Internet, Part II

I promise I will get back to regular gravestone posting soon. It's been pretty crazy around here this first week of classes.

In the meantime, I direct you to this weekend's crop of LOLcats, featuring a certain kitteh.

You may recognize this picture from this post, featuring a hungry cat, a sunny window, and Pete's birthday flowers.

Law and Order: Seventeenth Century

Today's New York Times has a strange little article about "New York's Coldest Case" — the murder of John Colman on September 6, 1609.

The author has some fun with the case, interviewing modern detectives as well as historians. They determine that local Native Americans probably killed Colman, possibly in retaliation for earlier attacks, though it is also possible that he was murdered by a fellow crew member.

It's a fluffy piece, but one line stood out for me. One historian, Kathleen Husler, unhelpfully describes the mixed Dutch/English crew involved in the incident as "a typical blend of sociopaths and working men." Is it a well-known fact that sailors were often sociopaths? The choppiness of the article makes it difficult to decipher exactly what Husler meant, but I think historians are generally on shaky ground when they try to diagnose historical actors with mental illness in order to explain their behavior. Perhaps she just meant that sailors were a violent and unruly lot, which they certainly were. But even in a fun little throwaway interview, it seems unproductive to characterize their behavior as antisocial and abnormal, rather than appropriate to their situation and worldview.

AP Redefines "Ancient"

I was pretty excited when I saw this AP headline: "Ancient Skeleton Found in Cambridge." Was it a Native American burial site? A lost 17th-century burying ground? Proof that Vikings sailed up the Charles?

Sadly, none of those things. According to the AP, the "ancient" skeleton is "about 100 years old."

Boo. I'm not sure I'd refer to anything that dates from the late 19th/early 20th century as "ancient," unless, perhaps, it was something with a very short shelf life. I suppose if I found a 100-year-old muffin, I might call it "ancient."

Disappointing.

Hollis Professor to Graze Cow on Harvard Yard

Yes!!!

At Harvard, the most distinguished professors are awarded the status of "University Professor." Among the honors and regalia bestowed by this rank are several special privileges: they may carry swords to class, collect firewood on the yard, and graze cows there.

One week from today, University Professor Harvey Cox will celebrate his retirement by exercising his right to graze a cow on Harvard Yard.

I will be there with my camera.

The Urban Crucible in 247 Pages

Are you aware that there is an abridged edition of Gary Nash's The Urban Crucible?!?

Someone could have told me this 600 pages ago.

Grumblecakes.

Depated #11

Another depated stone! See #1-10 here.

 

 

Josiah Fisk

Pepperell, MA

1778

Passenger!

The righteous

hath Hope in his Death

On the Evening

of ye 27th of Oct. 1778

DEACON JOSIAH FISK

with great composure &

Tranquility of mind

depa[r]ted this Life in

Hopes of a better AEt. 74.

Be ye Followers of them

who now are

thro Faith & Patience

inheriting the Promises.

Happy SepmYbre!

An unfortunate combination of spacing issues and superscripts gives us this mish-mash of a month:

Tryphena Woods

d. 1756

Pepperell, MA

Strange Monuments of Mount Auburn

Mount Auburn is full of elaborate monuments, so it's hard for any individual monument to stand out. Regular old angels and marble lace won't cut it.

What will draw attention? A 25-foot edifice embellished with a man-sized urn, giant mastiff, and marble relief panels depicting mail delivery.

This is the grave of William F. Harnden, founder of one of America's first private express companies. In 1839, when Harnden sent his first package, the United States was expanding tremendously, both geographically and economically. Many historians have pointed toward twin revolutions in transportation and communications to explain this growth. Harnden brought both together in his express company — he shipped packages via railroad and steamship. He died in 1845 at age 31.

In order to commemorate Harnden's important work, his family depicted elements of his business on his memorial.

Here we have well-dressed man handing a package to a woman. He seems to have driven to her door in a wagon — the wheel is behind him and she is hatless, suggesting that she is not dressed to leave the house. I find this image a bit surprising because historians generally emphasize the role of mail and railroads in expanding political connections and business opportunities between men. With a slight clothing change, this could be an image of me accepting a UPS package containing a book from Amazon. Did Harnden envision his business as customer-oriented rather than business-oriented? And did he envision his average customer as a woman?

The other relief is a bit more difficult to decipher, but no less interesting:

Here we have a woman (possibly the same woman) indoors, holding a baby and caring for a toddler. Behind her, a man stares out the window. There is a stove on one side of the room and an object in the foreground that might be a little cart (?). The man is resting his hand on a stack of lumpy objects that might be packages.

Is this image meant to show the interior of a house? Of a store? Is our female customer struggling to drag her offspring to the local post office to retrieve her package? Or is the man in the background her husband, waiting wistfully for someone to come and carry his packages away? Is the woman Harnden's wife, harassed by daily cares while he daydreams about deliveries? I don't know, but I'd appreciate any insight you might have. It's worth noting that the woman is still the focus of the image.

In addition to these panels, the monument has several other striking features.

The canopy is emblazoned with four virtues: hope, charity, faith, and justice. These are illustrated with icons — a dove, a cup, a cross, and a wide, staring eye. The eye is a bit jarring. I confess that I was expecting scales.

This dog reminds me of my childhood trips to Civil War battlefields. My parents would encourage us to look for animals on the monuments to keep our interest when we were very young. My sister had a special love for the 11th Pennsylvania's mascot, Sallie, and demanded to visit her statue on every visit.

Brighid and Sallie:

Three Fishers

One of the ideas I'm entertaining for my dissertation has something to do with maritime cemeteries and death at sea. As part of the initial research, I'm looking at 19th-century songs about shipwrecks and listening to modern recordings of these songs when I can find them.

My most recent discovery is a poem/song called "Three Fishers," which was written by Charles Kingsley in 1851. It is truly the most depressing song I have ever heard.

Three fishers went sailing away to the West,
Away to the West as the sun went down;
Each thought on the woman who loved him the best,
And the children stood watching them out of the town;
For men must work, and women must weep,
And there's little to earn, and many to keep,
Though the harbour bar be moaning.

Three wives sat up in the lighthouse tower,
And they trimmed the lamps as the sun went down;
They looked at the squall, and they looked at the shower,
And the night-rack came rolling up ragged and brown.
But men must work, and women must weep,
Though storms be sudden, and waters deep,
And the harbour bar be moaning.

Three corpses lay out on the shining sands
In the morning gleam as the tide went down,
And the women are weeping and wringing their hands
For those who will never come home to the town;
For men must work, and women must weep,
And the sooner it's over, the sooner to sleep;
And good-bye to the bar and its moaning.

The first time I heard "Three Fishers" was on Stan Rogers' For the Family. I like Stan Rogers, but his version has an annoying fiddle interlude by Garnet Rogers. In hopes that I might avoid listening to this overwrought instrumental section ever again, I bought several other versions on iTunes.

Having listened to every available recording of "Three Fishers," I am ready to render my professional opinion:

If you are looking for a song about economic privation and drowning/freezing to death in the North Atlantic, you'll never do better than Stan Rogers.

ABD

As of 4:30 this afternoon, I can add ABD to my email signature (though I probably won't).

I don't think I passed my oral exams elegantly or with flying colors, but I did pass. I'm fairly certain that one of my examiners passed me just to be rid of me.

I celebrated by going to Mount Auburn for the first time all summer. This monument caught my eye, perhaps because she reminded me of Dumbledore and his Pensieve. Since I don't have a pensieve, I'll have to empty my mind with a long weekend of ice cream and video games.

Civil War Wives?

This morning, I received an email from Amazon urging me to purchase Carol Berkin's new book, Civil War Wives: The Life and Times of Angelina Grimke Weld, Varina Howell Davis, and Julia Dent Grant.

I suppose that "Civil War Wives" is an apt phrase for the place that Varina Davis and Julia Grant occupy in my mind. But Angelina Grimke? I don't think "wife of Theodore Weld" is among the first things I'd say about her.

Though, I suppose Berkin might investigate the limitations of gender equality within the abolitionist movement, making Grimke-Weld's position as a wife relevant.

It's just a bit of a jarring title.