Unlocking the Secrets of the Past

by Jeffrey Bingham Mead

Greenwich Time, Greenwich, Connecticut
1988

The ancient burying grounds of the town of Greenwich are unique repositories of local history. Likewise, the many tablet stones that mark the graves of our forebears are sometimes embellished with intriguing designs and motives carrying symbolic meanings somewhat lost to us in the contemporary world.

These designs of the works of individual farmers and stone carvers or blacksmiths whose identities are anonymous to this day. Nevertheless, the motifs found on a number of gravestones throughout the burying grounds of Greenwich have withstood most of the effects of the elements, leaving meanings and significance for us to ponder.

Historic scholars and layman alike, for many years, have researched and debated among themselves on the meanings of these curious designs found on gravestones throughout the New England states and beyond. A great deal of academic research is been devoted to unlocking the secrets of the gravestone symbols left behind by earlier generations.

This winged-hourglass motif at the Reynold Family Cemetery, at Stanwich Road and Tod Lane in the backcountry, is one of two such examples in Greenwich. 

The late Harriette Merrifield Forbes, a proponent of the serious study of the gravestones and ancient burying grounds of New England, pointed out years ago that "to interpret them properly it is necessary to close our 20th century eyes and look at them with the eyes of the past. Thus we can appreciate the beauty and craftsmanship of those designs and perhaps find a lesson for ourselves and a few of them at least."

Image Credit: Worcester Historical Museum

These lessons, conveyed through such stark symbols as brooding death-heads or winged skulls, and through such more graceful images as weeping willows, are distinct motifs that reflect powerful religious beliefs as well as the impassive mind-set of our forebears of the society they lived in.

Few, if any of us, would recognize the type of society Greenwich was in its earliest days, when it was more ecclesiastical and agrarian. Our predecessors passed many hours in the old burying grounds located near their churches and meeting houses. Besides farming the land, they attended services and burials, and their minds were preoccupied with a number of things important to them, such as their own mortality.

The earliest settlers of Greenwich lived under rather harsh conditions comparable to the standard of living found in many impoverished countries around the world today. They suffered immeasurably from the adversities of malnutrition, an unpredictable climate, outbreaks of famine and epidemics, and Indians not too happy with the presence of the new settlers. A bad harvest or drought could spell disaster.

The gravestone of Gershom Lockwood, Tomac Cemetery. 

Our earliest leaders, including our ministers and deacons, as well as those few people fortunate to be educated, lived in society dominated by the teachings of the Bible. Thus, it was vital for early ministers to rely on these carvings to tell about the blessings of paradise afterlife of heavenly reward. They were used to reinforce the religious outlook of that day and age, so that while the less educated perhaps could not read the messages of the epitaph poems, they were able at a glance to understand the didactic ideas stressed by the clever motifs embellished a gravestone.

The earliest gravestone markers were common fieldstones, such as those found in the rear section of the historic Tomac Cemetery in Old Greenwich. As time progressed, carved gravestones became more commonplace, and early motifs found on some of these markers are quite striking. The death-head, or winged skull, symbolizes the flight of the soul from mortal man. 

A few gravestones featuring winged faces are found at Tomac Cemetery. These include the sandstone markers of Mrs. Ruth Peck, wife of Samuel Peck, who died on "Set'r ye 17th 1745 about 83 years of Age" as well as the gravestone of Mrs. Sarah Palmer, wife of Mr. John Palmer, who died "Sept'r ye 1st 1748 age 64 years." A commonly held interpretation of this motif is that it shows the effigy of the deceased with the soul in flight. 

A winged soul effigy on the gravestone of Nathaniel Lockwood, Tomac Cemetery. 

The coming of the 19th century saw a relaxation somewhat of the Puritanism of the early years of our local history, and gravestones begin carrying motifs that were far less horrid and frightening. Some markers likewise reflected the architectural styles of the Federalist and Greek Revival periods of American buildings. 

Weeping willow motifs on the gravestone of Charity Mead Knapp, Knapp Cemetery, Round Hill. 

Weeping willow trees, symbolic of nature's lament, are found on a number of stones including that of my Revolutionary War ancestor Ebenezer Mead at Christ Church Cemetery, as well as the marble marker of Charity Mead Knapp at Knapp Cemetery in Round Hill, plus a few at the Lewis Cemetery in central Greenwich and elsewhere.

The Masonic Compass, symbol of membership in the Order of the Free Masons, is found on the obelisk of Abraham Close, who died in 1871 and is buried in Christ Church Cemetery. A hand pointing toward the sky and surrounded by a wreath of roses is carved on the gravestone also at Christ Church of Julia Reynolds, who died at age 20 years. This apparently is symbolic of victory and the rewards of heaven.

The gravestone symbols carry pertinent messages. They sought in an artistic way to honor ancestors and teach a lesson for future generations. 

"In the old cemetery," wrote Herschel Miller in New Orleans Magazine in 1969, "indifference borders on desecration, and desecration contributes mightily to the regression of the human spirit, robbing us of spiritual values, much as a child is robbed of respect for his elders."

The longevity of these gravestone markers and the lessons they seek to teach, testifies to the unsinkable spirit of our ancestors and early residents of the town of Greenwich. Visit some of these historic sites and look around you. To our forbears, the motives and epitaphs spoke to their generation of the beliefs they had in the inevitability of a glorious after-life, and may for those who search for it shed some light on our precious heritage, worthy of preservation.


Jeffrey Bingham Mead, who lives in Greenwich, is a direct descendent of one of the founding families of the town. He is a free-lance writer and a member of the Greenwich Historical Society.