The Past & Present of Norwich
S.S. Randall
The Old Burying Ground
Chenango Telegraph, April 29, 1875
"Why do we mourn departing friends
Or shake at death's alarms?
'Tis but the voice that Jesus sends
To call us to his arms!
Why should we tremble to convey
Their bodies to the tomb!
There the dear flesh of Jesus lay
And left a long perfume."
In the early days of my youth and manhood, it was my frequent custom, and melancholy pleasure, to visit that humble and modest enclosure on the Southerly bank of the Canasawacta [Mt. Hope Cemetery, Norwich, Chenango Co., NY], where were deposited "waiting the judgment day," the mortal remains of loved kindred, neighbors and friends, departed this life. With solemn awe, and a chastened spirit, I passed its sinuous avenues and pored with loving and reverent eye over the time worn monumental inscriptions at the head of the low mounds. Here, side by side, peacefully slept the old and young, the rich and poor, the high and low, the aged father and mother, the blooming youth, the little "hindering things"--"hindering", alas, no more forever--the sinless, spotless infants, blossoming only to fade away on earth, and return to their "angels who do always behold the face of their Father in heaven." Earth to earth--ashes to ashes--dust to dust"--they sweetly "sleep the sleep that knows no waking" till the "trumpet shall sound, and they shall be raised incorruptible and immortal" to die no more forever! Solemn--inexpressibly solemn, were these solitary wanderings among the tombs of the dead of long ago! In this ancient "city of the silent"--this consecrated "God's acre" unconscious of all human interests or human cares--separated from all earthly companionship--in holy and loving communion, lay the mouldering remains of the "gray fathers" and sorely tried mothers, the pioneers of the primitive little settlement in the wilderness--of such of them at least, as were not quietly reposing in some sheltered and sacred nook of the family domain. There at that early period, or a few years later, might be found the quaint and simple tributes of affection, reverence, regard and respect to the memory of the elder Randall, and of the mother of all his children, his first wife Martha Swan; to the memory of Dr. Joseph Brooks; of Beriah Lewis and his aged wife; of Peter B. Garnsey, his wife and eldest son; of Benjamin Edmunds and Eunice his wife; of Perez Randall, Betsey his wife, and Albert and Perez, their infant sons; of Elisha Smith and Rachel his wife, soon afterwards to be supplemented by the marble tablets commemorating the death of his accomplished and beautiful daughter, Rachel, and his noble and patriotic son, Col. Elisha B. Smith, mortally wounded at the head of his regiment, before Port Hudson. There were the remains of Lieut, James Gilmore, his wife, and aged mother Esther, who had passed by many years, an entire century of active existence; of the venerable elder, Jedediah Randall and his aged and beloved wife; of Samuel Hammond, Hascall Ransford, Matthew Graves, Dr. Jonathan Johnson--long afterwards to be rejoined by his aged widow, the first wife of Dr. Henry Mitchell; of Capt. John Church, and wife; Josiah Dickinson and wife; Asa Pellet and wife; Seth Garlick and wife; Uriah Avery, his wife and daughter Polly Carey; David Buttolph and his first wife; and last, though not least of that eloquent young orator, Simeon S. Emmons, whose "name was writen, water"--who went down to his early grave in poverty, destitution and hopeless wretchedness and suffering--dependent upon the charity of friends even for the last poor boon of a grave! Nor must the memory of that hapless boy, John Johnson, son of Dr. Johnson, who "by the wayside fell and perished, weary of this mortal strife" be forgotten.
At a still later period were added to the silent population of this ancient "city of the dead" the remains of Col. John Randall and Hannah, his wife, by the side of their first born infant son, John Curran, and their eldest surviving son, William, to whom were soon to be added, their daughter Louisa Frances, first wife of Walter M. Conkey; Ruby Randall, second wife of Perez Randall, with their daughters Betsy, and Ann Eliza and an infant son; Hannah Mary, second wife of Capt. John Randall, the elder; Elias Breed, by the side of his daughter Lucy, the "young bride of the valley," first wife of the author of these sketches, his daughters Martha Augusta, and Sarah, his sons Elias and Noyes, soon to be rejoined by his aged partner, Elizabeth, and her sister Martha, and his noble grandson, who fell in the arms of victory, in the well contested field of the Shenandoah Valley; Joseph Brown, and Martha, his wife; Hezekiah Brown and wife; Jesse Brown and wife, with their daughters Mary and Almira; the first wife of Joseph M. Farr, the saintly Huldah Welch, with her daughter Charity; William Johnson and his wife; Mrs. Lovina Clark; Samuel Pike and wife; Jeduthan Hitchcock and wife; Stephen Mark and Timothy Steare, with their wives; the venerable Senator and Judge John Noyes, with his wife Priscilla, and their daughter Betsy--a fragrant rose all too early withered on its stem; Josiah S. Miller, the courteous host, and his successor, Col. John Noyes, Jr. and his wife, widow of the former; Frederick Byington; Jonathan Fryer, an early victim of consumption; Thomas and Amos Lewis; Nathan D. Stanton; Ephriam Pabodie and wife--no more to add apartment to apartment of their humble cottage, as the olive plants increased around their frugal tables; Elias P. Pellet, the young and gifted editor and founder of the Telegraph, and his wife Edith; Harvey Hubbard, the poet, endowed with that marvelous gift of genius, hereditary in his race; Thomas Milner and his excellent and accomplished wife; Gen. Harry De Forest, the dignified host, the chivalrous officer and noble hearted man, with his son Henry, the young lieutenant and graduate of West Point; and Bela Farr, the philosopher, inventor and genial companion with his "helpful" wife, and several of his younger children.
Coming down to a still more modern period, we find our ancient "necropolis" rapidly augmented by "troops of succeeding pilgrims" especially near and dear to the generation now on the stage [in 1875]. Hiram Weller and his accomplished sister; the chivalrous and noble hearted Samuel H. Barnes; Loring Fenton, in the pride and strength of manhood; Dr. Henry Mitchell, the skilled and popular physician; his gifted son and successor, Dr. Charles Mitchell; Dr. James Thompson and his wife Polly, and her sister Lavinia Guernsey; Israel Hale and his wife; Peter Fryer and his amiable and accomplished sister Rebecca; Jason Gleason and his son-in-law, Reuben Holmes; Truman Enos, the venerable pillar of the Congregational or Presbyterian Church; James H. Smith, the successful and upright merchant and banker; Jonathan Wells; Squire Smith; George M. Smith; Alfred Purdy; Smith M. Purdy, the eminent counsellor and upright judge; Henry and William Snow, both universally respected and beloved; Abial Cook, the eloquent advocate, and genial companion and friend; George L. Rider, the accomplished host, and one of the earliest founders of the Episcopal Church; Benjamin F. Rexford, the noble hearted and able, but eccentric counselor and Judge; Lewis Kingsley, the eloquent and gifted legislator and editor; Ansel Berry, one of the apostles and founders of the Methodist church; the venerable patriarchs and pillars of the Baptist Church, Charles Randall and Charles York--the latter speedily destined to be joined by his aged and faithful life partner, Esther; Walter M. Conkey, the trained prudent and skillful banker, the ornament of the social circle; his inseparable fidus acha tes companion and friend of more than forty years, William B. Pellett, from whom even in death, he could not be divided; and now, most recently, Mrs. Mary Johnson, the beloved wife of nearly half a century, of Captain Ralph Johnson.
Other names, familiar to the citizens of your Village, have, doubtless escaped my recollection; but these will suffice to point the practical moral chiefly had in view in traversing these ancient precincts of mortality which has, long since, as I am informed, transcended its original boundaries, and opened by fresh fields from time to time for its consistently increasing population. I have also been given to understand that its limits are now about to be still further extended in every direction, save one, so as to embrace within its scope the entire area south of the Canasawacta to the old farm house of the late Hezekiah Brown, and west to the easterly bank of the same stream as it flows from north to south. These grounds are to be laid out, in connection with the present area, in such a manner, and to be cultivated, adorned, and beautified to such as extent as to realize the full conception of a modern rural cemetery. This is a movement in the right direction, and will, I doubt not, prove eminently successful. The earthly spots to which, with reverence and heart felt grief and sorrow we have consigned our loved ones, must ever be dear to our memories; and often shall we revisit them, to meditate over the sweetness and fragrance of the irrevocable past, and to shed bitter and scalding tears of unavailing anguish. But let us not forget in our hours of dark and hopeless despondency, the tender and consolatory assurances of the Holy Spirit, "the comforter." "There the wicked cease from troubling,--there the weary are at rest." "I am the resurrection and the life; he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live; and he that liveth and believeth on me shall never die. Believest thou this?
