...and cold hic jacets of the dead...
I have loved and feared cemeteries for as long as I can remember. I grew up surrounded by them and so some sort of reaction to their ubiquitous presence was inevitable. While the fear has lessened to the point of being negligible, the love has grown to make them one of my favorite places. Fortunately, my wife shares this attraction so that our summers in New England have involved numerous trips to grave yards. Featured here is a gem I found while looking for the graves of several Sheltons in Derby. It's a family plot, but contains only three burials that I could identify. This is common in 19th century cemeteries: acquiring wealth gave one generation a desire for permanence but keeping wealth required the next generation to embrace mobility. The oak sighs in Mamre, but there is no one left to bear a coffin up from Egypt.
*Once again, I am indebted to Douglas Keister's Stories in Stone: A Field Guide to Cemetery Symbolism and Iconography.
**Update: Since the writing of this post, I have been able to identify at least two more graves in the Mason-Terrell plot: at least one Terrell and the second may be a another Child.