Episcopal Cemetery, Elizabeth City North Carolina
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The early history of the Episcopal Cemetery is fraught with uncertainties compounded by a lack both of duly recorded deeds and lost Vestry minutes. While the Anglican Church in North Carolina had been established by law in 1701 and a chapel erected in Pasquotank County by 1708, the church fell into disfavor during the American Revolution and did not reappear in the county until 1825 when Christ Episcopal Church was organized in Elizabeth City. Local tradition attributes the founding of the Episcopal Cemetery as 1828, even though no record can be found to support this date. While gravestones exist in the cemetery for persons who died in 1724 and 1812, the earliest gravestone that appears original to the cemetery is that of Nancy Morris (1788-1825). Tradition is silent as to where residents of Elizabeth City were buried during the late eighteenth century, particularly after the town's founding in 1793 as Redding. The earliest record of municipal interest in a cemetery is a deed dated March 6th, 1823 for 0.73 acres to be "occupied as a Burying Ground and not otherwise. This tract is now known as the Baptist Cemetery in the 300 block of West Colonial Avenue.
There are few early legal records for the Episcopal Cemetery. The earliest documentation is from February 11th, 1845, when Miles White sold one-half acre adjoining the land known as the Episcopal burying ground to the Vestry of Christ Episcopal Church to expand their cemetery; he sold another quarter-acre to them on June 15th, 1848. Unfortunately, neither deed describes the tract being sold so as to determine which part of the present cemetery is the oldest. Likewise, deeds for family burial plots sold by the Rev. E. M. Forbes, Rector of Christ Church, in 1845 to Joseph H. Pool, in 1848 to William Newbold and Isaiah Fearing, and in 1849 to Robert Watkins, do not describe in any way which plots are being transferred: the large brick vault of Pool, who died in 1866, is situated near Ehringhaus Street; the plot containing the graves of Fearing (1791-1858) and twelve of his descendants is at the opposite end near Shepard Street; and the plot bought by Newbold, where his wife Martha A. Newbold (1819-1848) and son James G. (1841-1859) are interred, is near the center of the cemetery. Oddly enough, Newbold bought his plot eleven weeks after his wife's death. The only other purchase of a burial lot in the cemetery that is recorded in the county courthouse is that acquired in 1875 by Captain W. W. Brown (1818-1883); his handsome draped obelisk is enclosed by a handsome wire fence immediately west of the Fearing plot.
During the early and mid-nineteenth century, the Episcopal Cemetery, along with the Baptist Cemetery, remained as the city's primary place for interring white residents. In 1872 Hollywood Cemetery was established south of the municipal limits as a public cemetery for whites, and by the early twentieth century had become the choice for all but those families who still had space in family plots within the Episcopal Cemetery. This change is born out by the scarcity of burials in the older cemetery after the 1920s and the fact that most descendants of those interred in the Episcopal Cemetery are buried at Hollywood. Since the 1940s, burials in the Episcopal Cemetery have become increasingly rare, with only twenty-one burials since 1960. All of these have been of descendants of those already buried in the cemetery. Future burials are limited only to the spouses of interees.
While the legal records for the cemetery are lacking, the importance of the persons interred there is well known. The vast majority are men and women who exercised considerable influence in various aspects of life in Elizabeth City during their adult lives. These include physicians Rufus K. Speed (1812-1897); George John Musgrave (1819-1854); William F. Martin (1921-1880); and Bradford Griggs (1870-1950); lumberman Daniel S. Kramer (1834-1899); merchant and postmaster Isaiah Fearing (1789-1858); department store proprietor Oliver F. Gilbert (1878-1946); fishery, grist mill, and marine railway owner William Pailin (1834-1907); local politicians such as Registrar of Deeds Benjamin C. Brothers (1846-1919); Clerk of Court John Pool Overman (1848-1919); mayors Jerome Bell Flora, Sr. (1850-1914); and his son Jerome B. Flora, Jr. (1890-1954) (the younger Flora was mayor from 1927 to 1947); educator Samuel Lloyd Sheep (1856-1928); bankers John C. B. Ehringhaus (1814-1853), William W. Griffin (1815-1897), and Charles Guirkin (1837-1895); The North Carolinian editor Dr. Palemon John (1828-1902); and undertaker and furniture maker Reubin Madrin (1821-1912). In addition, numerous casualties and veterans of the Civil War are interred within, including James Monroe Whedbee, whose epitaph declares that he was "A Zealous Confederate." Also buried here is Pvt. William C. Smith, killed in Europe during World War I.
The most illustrious person buried in the Episcopal Cemetery is John Christopher Blucher Ehringhaus (1882-1949), Governor of North Carolina from 1933 to 1937. As the only native of Pasquotank County ever to serve as governor, and the last governor elected from the Albemarle region, the state's oldest settled area, Ehringhaus assumed office during the trying days of the Great Depression. Although his administration was decidedly unpopular because of his financial and tax policies, Ehringhaus restored fiscal credibility to state government and undertook sweeping changes to the state's educational system which put the public schools on firm financial standing. His grave is significant because both his boyhood home at 402 East Fearing Street and his adult residence at 405 East Main Street have been demolished. His epitaph aptly states: HE SCORNED TO TAKE THE EASY ROAD / OR COMPROMISE. INSTEAD HE CHOSE / THE TOILSOME TRAIL THAT CONSCIENCE / SHOWED, AND DID IT WITH A SMILE
Religious and secular symbolism was very important in funerary art during the mid- and late nineteenth century and early twentieth century. Rendered on gravestones and cast iron fences, these artistic features were evocative expressions of sorrow and hope of resurrection. The language of such art is varied.
Elements from nature are the most prevalent of the symbols. Foremost among these are weeping willows, whose gracefully pendant branches were romanticized beginning in the late eighteenth century as symbols of mourning. More than a half dozen examples illustrate differing levels of sophistication in rendering this popular motif, including a stiffly stylized tree on the tablet of John Hinds (1796-1837), a more sinuously rendered form on the Gothic Revival tablet of Bowen Elderidge (1791-1855)), and the well-articulated tree on the tablet of David Wade (1796-1833), on which lacy branches frame a classical urn. The Wade tablet, one of the few slate stones in the cemetery, was probably imported from New England, where experienced artisans created similar stones during the early years of the nineteenth century. Other tree forms are seen on the splendid cast iron fences enclosing the previously discussed Knox and Saunders-Mathews family plots. On each, the posts are represented as severed tree trunks closely shorn of their limbs, implying lives cut short. Yet, on each there is an element, grape vines on the Knox fence and acorns on the Saunders-Mathews fence, that hold the promise of the renewal of life. Oak leaves, symbolizing honor, are also used, along with ivy, to accent the stone of Anna Albenia Overman (1863-1890). Flowers were a popular symbol, such as the lily that expressed purity on the gravestone of Catherine Dallam Mathews (1833-1873) and the single plucked rose bud that eloquently noted that the life of William E. Knox, who died at only two months, ended long before it could bloom. Morning glories, another popular Victorian flower, embellish the gravestone of Sarah Musgrave Scott (1833-1857).
Traditional Victorian symbols of death and mourning are well represented within the cemetery. Urns were a common symbol to evoke the remains and ashes of the dead. When draped by mourning cloths, as seen on the obelisk of John C. B. Ehringhaus (1814-1853), which was erected in 1856, and the Gothic Revival monument of his son, Erskine Ehringhaus (1853-1942), and daughter-in-law, Carrie Ehringhaus (1856-1892), the effect was heightened. An especially eloquent statement of death and mourning is illustrated by the draped obelisk of Capt. W. W. Brown (1818-1883), on which large tassels, another traditional Victorian decoration, provide weight to anchor the well-articulated folds of the cloth. Another popular Victorian representation of death was the upturned torch, which, still lighted as in all the local examples, expressed the belief in life after death. The Episcopal Cemetery has several examples of symbolic torches, on the impressive Gothic Revival monument of Dr. George John Musgrave (1819-1854), and in the elegant gate of the Henry Culpepper fence. An hourglass, another symbol of the end of mortal life, is eloquently featured in the impressive cast iron gate to the Saunders plot.
Religious symbols were equally popular on gravestones, indicating the adherence of the local citizenry to the Christian faith. Several graves are marked by freestanding crosses, such as that of Max Leonidas Sanderlin (1895-1904) which is further embellished with a palm frond that recalls the triumphal entrance of Jesus into Jerusalem. The handsome tablet of Rachel Kramer (1830-1883) combines the cross with a crown representing Jesus as King of mankind. The Dove of Peace on the gravestone of Mary F. Madrin (1820-1892) reflects the hope of peace in heaven, while the little angel that looks somberly upon the grave of eleven-day-old Scott P. Appleby (1904-1905) offered solace to his grieving parents.
The inclusion of emblems of fraternal societies on gravestones is indicative of the great social, civic, and religious importance of such organizations in Elizabeth City during the nineteenth century, with a Masonic Lodge being chartered in 1825 and an Odd Fellows Lodge in 1847. The most eloquent depiction is on the tablet stone of William E. Mann (1847-1866) which combines emblems of the Masonic and Odd Fellows orders beneath a mantle of ivy. The Masonic square-and-compass emblem is also shown on the tablet of Dr. Palemon John (1828-1902), where it is combined with the double-headed eagle of the Consistory Rite, and on the tablet of Capt. Thomas Dunbar (1806-1856), where it encloses an all-seeing eye and rests upon an open book representing knowledge. There is no known significance attached to the fact that the three graves displaying the Odd Fellows insignia, William J. Purdy (1830-1855), William E. Mann (1847-1866), and J. H. Beals (1848-1921), are located in the cemetery's extreme southeast corner.
Site Description
The Episcopal Cemetery is the oldest active burying ground in Elizabeth City. According to the oldest tombstone original to the cemetery, it dates from 1825, even though local tradition places its organization in 1828. Located south of the city's historic center, it is a small, nearly-rectangular site measuring 495 feet north-to-south and between 120 and 155 feet east-to-west; its grade is essentially level. It contains approximately 410 gravestones with death dates from 1724 (commemorated by a later stone marking a moved grave) and 1990. Interments had declined dramatically by 1944, and since 1960, only twenty-one burials have occurred in the cemetery. Presently, only spouses of interees may be buried there. The cemetery is bounded on the north by Ehringhaus Street, a major traffic thoroughfare and commercial street; on the south by Shepard Street, a primary street in an adjacent historically black neighborhood; on the west and northeast by commercial property; and on the southeast by the historic Antioch Presbyterian Church, which now serves as a community center. Despite the arrangement of church and adjacent cemetery, the two neighbors have no connection with each other; Antioch was the local black Presbyterian congregation and the cemetery is composed of entirely white interments.
The Episcopal Cemetery is divided north-to-south by a grass-covered lane twelve-feet wide that provides vehicular access for funerals and maintenance. The layout of rectangular plots is evident only where family plots are defined by metal fences or raised stone curbings. These plots are concentrated toward the southern (Shepard Street) end, while gravestones in the northern (Ehringhaus Street) portion are placed in a loosely linear manner. While unmarked grassy sections near Ehringhaus Street may seem at first to be devoid of graves, the area is, in fact, full of unmarked graves.
The cemetery is enclosed on Shepard and Ehringhaus streets by eight foot-tall wrought-iron fences that were erected in the 1920s. Vehicular access to the cemetery is provided at each end by gates that are flanked by urn-topped posts embellished with foliate elements. The Ehringhaus Street gate is surmounted by a semi-circular arch containing the word C-E-M-E-T-E-R-Y, while a smaller gate to its east provides pedestrian access. Utilitarian chain-link fences, portions of which are overgrown with weeds and vines, enclose the property on the east and west.
Although the cemetery has been maintained by the City of Elizabeth City for more than thirty years, the increasing costs of such maintenance and a glaring lack of interest by family descendants in the preservation of individual plots has led to a gradual decline in the property's appearance. The plot fences have suffered the most, with much ornament, particularly cresting, having been lost. In some cases, whole sections of fences are gone. In 1991 vandalism to gravestones required approximately $1,300 in repairs by the City which did not necessarily follow the best preservation guidelines for historic gravestones.
An intermittent canopy of mature deciduous and evergreen trees shelters the entire cemetery, and is particularly lush near Shepard Street where some sections are in deep shade. The most numerous species is the locally common white cedar, some of which are of a venerable age and massive size. They, along with several southern magnolias provide year-round shade. A half-dozen crepe myrtles, some also of great size and age, and several dogwoods provide additional shade and flowers during the summer and spring, respectively. Scattered throughout the cemetery are about a dozen climbing white Cherokee roses that lend color in early summer. The lack of ornamental shrubbery and benches or seats lessens the parklike atmosphere found in many small nineteenth-century graveyards in eastern North Carolina. One of the cemetery's largest magnolias was removed in July 1992 because of age and storm damage, leaving a large barren spot at the Isaiah Fearing plot. Another storm on March 12th-13th, 1993, uprooted two of the largest white cedar trees, placing once shaded plots into full sun; miraculously, neither of these storms caused any significant damage to gravestones or fences.
Within the cemetery are numerous fences dating from the mid- and late nineteenth century and the early twentieth century that enclose family burial plots. The cast iron fences, while in the minority, are the most significant artistically and include excellent examples of mid-nineteenth century funerary art; they comprise the finest such group in eastern North Carolina. Such ornate iron fencing is characteristic of Episcopal cemeteries in North Carolina and, because of their cost, associated with the upper-class. Only one local example is dated, the 1857 enclosure of the Thomas D. Knox plot, and no fence is signed by the manufacturer. The Knox fence is composed of an eloquent representation of slender tree trunks as posts and balusters, each with closely-shorn side branches symbolizing lives cut short, and all entwined by grapevines. Across the access drive from the Knox plot is the plot of L. K. Saunders, around which an elegant cast iron fence is anchored by trunk-like posts but with balusters of sinuous leafy oak branches with acorns. The Saunders gate features an evocative hourglass enclosed within a mantle of oak leaves and a similar, but now missing, gate probably graced the identical adjacent John M. Mathews fence. The robust and highly-detailed Culpepper-Sanderlin fence has balusters consisting of broad foliated panels somewhat resembling musical lyres that alternate with equally decorative arrows that point downward; an eagle with spread wings and a pair of downturned torches invigorate the gate. The fence enclosing the grave of Dr. George John Musgrave (1819-1854) is anchored by austere Gothic Revival style octagonal posts topped by elegant tapering spires. It features balusters finished as trefoil arches and connected at the bottom by quatrefoils; the sophisticated design is crowned by fleur-de-lis cresting. The most unusual of the cast iron fences surrounds the graves of two little Lawrence sisters, Sarah and Ann, who died in 1844 and 1848 at ages of nine years and five months, respectively. It consists of cast concrete posts supporting simple iron bars from which hang ornaments embellished with Eye of Horus motifs and remarkable cast iron tassels; chain swags connect these ornaments and enclose the entire rectangular plot.
Wire fences were popular during the late nineteenth century and examples are found enclosing several plots within the Episcopal cemetery: the single grave of Margaret W. Moore (1800-1836), the Martin-Morrine family plot, and the Benjamin F. White (1841-1881) family plot. The Moore fence, only four-feet by seven-feet in size, is enclosed by curved wires of heavy gauge that overlap into a sophisticated Gothic arch pattern, with the rail topped by miniature robust crests that echo the corner finials. The wires that comprise the Martin-McMorrine fence, the most extensive in the cemetery, are bent so as to form an overlapping diamond pattern; cast iron medallions accent the overlapping mesh while crests and finials embellish the top rail and posts, respectively. The White fence is fashioned of thinner wire than the Moore and Martin-McMorrine fences and forms a mesh pattern; its posts and cast iron finials and crests-are similar to the other wire fences.
Wrought iron fences are the most numerous within the cemetery, with over a dozen examples. Only several, such as those at the Pailin and Armstrong family plots, display a manufacturer's mark, that being the shield of the Stewart Iron Works of Cincinnati, Ohio, attached to the gate. Stewart fences were very popular in northeastern North Carolina during the late-nineteenth and early-twentieth centuries and it is likely that several of the unmarked fences also are from the company. The Pailin fence is comprised of diagonally-set square-in-section rods at alternating heights topped by cast iron arrow-like finials. The fence surrounding the Flora family plot is composed of short finial-topped palings, each of which is anchored by four short diagonal braces to each of three rails; the result is a decorative web-like design. Hairpin fences, so-called because of the elongated metal loops that form the palings, enclose several family plots, including the Bradford-Griggs, Ehringhaus, Cook, and Pendleton plots. These hairpins enclose single rods which have a variety of finishes: fan shapes on the Bradford-Griggs fence and arrows on the Ehringhaus and Pendleton fences. The fence at the Grandy plot combines the hairpin form with arrow finials and web-like diagonal braces into an unusually handsome design; it is a Stewart Company fence.
While there are no wooden fences within the cemetery, a ca. 1940 documentary photograph in the collection of the local Museum of the Albemarle illustrates several such fences in the cemetery's extreme northeast corner. Composed of simple square-in-section palings with pointed tops, these wooden fences added another element to the visual definition of family burial plots. The last of these fences have been removed for at least thirty years.
The gravestones in the Episcopal Cemetery reflect funerary traditions and art from the entire period of significance, ca. 1825 to 1943. The oldest inscription date is the tablet at the grave of William Norris (1690-1724), even though the stone itself, with a symbolic Victorian bas-relief of two shaking hands, dates from the mid- or late-nineteenth century. Most likely, the stone was imported when Norris's remains were moved to the Episcopal Cemetery from a rural cemetery. While there are a few other stones that possibly were moved from remote or abandoned cemeteries, the vast majority are original.
Brick vaults were common in burial practices during the early decades of the nineteenth century, and nearly a dozen remain within the Episcopal Cemetery. The largest vault, and one of the most impressive monuments in the cemetery, is the sixteen-foot long, twelve-foot wide, and seven-foot tall stuccoed brick barrel vault of J. H. Pool; there is obvious room for multiple interments but no indication as to the number of corpses inside. The barrel vault is anchored at each end by stepped parapet with access provided on the east end by a cast iron door decorated with Gothic Revival elements; this door is marked with the name of the manufacturer N. Cory, but no city is given. The vault was built sometime after Pool's purchase of this plot in 1840, but whether it was before his death in May 1866 is uncertain as he was survived not only by his wife of thirty-five years, but by his six children as well.
The nearby vault of Capt. Thomas Cahoon is half as large, twelve feet long, nine feet wide, and five feet tall, but also has stepped parapet ends. Most of its stucco covering has fallen away, leaving the intricate brickwork of the vault visible, but unprotected. A much fuller vault is seen at the grave of Nancy Ballance (1760-1812). Unless the cemetery site has a burial tradition that predates its known history, Nancy's corpse and tablet stone with its elegantly shaped neo-classical a top were moved to their present location at an unknown date (prior to World War II). Scattered throughout the cemetery are about a dozen unmarked low brick vaults. The identities of some, like one almost a foot tall in the Musgrave plot, can be inferred because of family associations. The identities of others, such as a pair so sunken into the ground west of the Saunders-Matthews plot that only the top inch remains visible, remain a mystery. While it is impossible to determine their age without extensive research, most were probably built between 1835 and 1880.
The cemetery's most common gravestones from the first half of the nineteenth century are ledgers, large rectangular stones placed at ground level, and table markers, which are ledgers set on brick bases. Ledgers provided ample surface to not only record biographical data but provide decorative embellishments and verse. Seven ledgers are located in the Martin-McMorrine plot, the earliest covering the grave of John McMorrine, Esq. (1791-1842). The other six ledgers (in this plot) date to 1912, and are anomalies because ledgers were out of vogue by this time. More common are the ledgers simply inscribed with names and death dates, such as those of Mary Burgess Elliott who died in 1847, (stonecutter R. Dalrymple of Norfolk); Ann Lawrence, who died in 1848; and Gilbert Elliott, Esq., who died in 1851.
Much more numerous are table stones, most of which are nine to-twelve inches above the ground with several as low as six inches tall. Bases are uniformly composed of brick, although many are stuccoed. The earliest (raised nine inches) is at the grave of Margaret W. Moore (1806-1836). Examples include adjacent table stones for Dr. S. Davis Grice (1824-1860) and his wife Susan C. Grice (1827-1892); his is unsigned and hers was carved by J. P. Hall of Norfolk. Another was carved by J. D. D. Couper of Norfolk for Richard Henry Leigh (1841-1872). The unsigned table stone of Nancy H. Simmons (1833-1866) is elegantly finished with a well-articulated cyma reversa molding along the edge.
Tablets, or upright stones at the head of the grave, were prevalent throughout the nineteenth century. Among the many examples in the cemetery are (the only slate gravestones in the cemetery,) the very similar Neo-Classical style stones of Nancy Norris (1788-1825) and David Wade (1796-1833). Each has a projecting semicircular top that encloses a delicate incision of weeping willow tree and funeral urn and geometric border. The Isaiah Fearing plot has nine similar marble tablets with segmental arched tops, typified by the stone of Emma B. Fearing (1839-1867) that includes a carved lily within a round-arched frame. Tablets with particularly elegant carved tops include the sculpted curvilinear and flower-bedecked stone of Sarah Musgrave Scott (1833-1857) and the flamboyantly-shaped stone with a distinctive beaded edge marking the grave of Sarah Hinds (1782-1845) that was carved by Gaddes of Baltimore.
Obelisks were a popular funerary element throughout the cemetery's history, even though the traditional Egyptian element had no relation to ancient Egyptian burial practices. Examples include the tall and elegant 1856 obelisk of John C. B. Ehringhaus (1814-1853) and the squat obelisk with austere finish atop a Gothic Revival pedestal that marks the resting spot of George John Musgrave, M. D. (1819-1854); the latter is one of the most impressive monuments in the cemetery. An especially eloquent and diminutive obelisk marks the grave of Sue M. Russell, who died in 1854 on her sixth birthday; it is invigorated by carved Gothic arch panels and crowned by an intricate floral crop finial. The tall unadorned obelisk that is the centerpiece of the Pailin family plot is an excellent example of the continued popularity of this element into the early twentieth century.

Looking south, with Musqvave plot in Foreground (1993)

Looking south from East Ehringhaus Street, Pool vault in center (1993)

Looking southeast with Flora plot on right and Ehringhaus plot on left (1993)

Looking northwest into Martin-McMorrine plot, obelisk of John C.B. Ehringhaus in center (1993)

Looking southwest, Culpepper-Sanderlin plot in foreground (1993)
