Instantly recognizable as the work of the Master of the Curly G, these two stones have inscriptions beginning simply “the grave of”—a curious family tradition also observed by Elisabeth Moss, who was buried in the same plot and is probably related. Note the awkward and rather embarrassing correction of the name “McBur[n]ey” above.
This is one of the earlier burials that were moved from nearby churchyards to Prospect Cemetery in Brackenridge, and it is probably the most artistic early-settler tombstone Father Pitt has yet found in this area. The style is a close and extraordinarily skillful imitation of nineteenth-century decorative penmanship styles, so we shall call this craftsman the Master of the Brackenridge Flourishes. And although Father Pitt admits to using the title “Master” a bit facetiously for some of the other local craftsmen, it is entirely deserved here.
In Memory of
GIDEON MILLER
Who departed this life,
February –th, 1820
in the –th Year
[Of his Age]
[Epitaph]
The stone may be later than its 1820 date, but it is almost certainly not later than the 1840s. A matching stone beside it, obviously by the same artist, is too badly damaged to read.
IN
memory of
RICHARD COULTER
who departed this life
May 4th 1821, Aged 22 years
———
Long, long expected home, and lo:
Home he has scarcely come,
Till he is summon’d and must go
To his eternal home.
This is a fairly well-preserved tombstone from nearly two centuries ago, and that is of course interesting enough. The most interesting thing, however, is the poem, which is from a collection of poems by the very obscure James Meikle, this one being headed “On a gentleman who died after his return to his family from foreign parts, after an absence of twelve years.” The poem itself is dated 1768, but it was kept in manuscript until after the poet’s death in 1799. The only edition of the posthumous poems of Meikle Father Pitt has been able to find is one published in Pittsburgh in 1819, two years before the death of Richard Coulter; so that we know with near certainty that whoever specified the epitaph on this stone had read it in this particular book.
Oak Spring Cemetery
In memory of
James R. Sinclair
who departed this life
Jan. the 21, AD 1843.
aged 5 months.
Two early-settler graveyards at opposite ends of Canonsburg have tombstones inscribed by some of the same local craftsmen. One of them, who worked in the 1830s and 1840s, is very easy to identify by three obvious quirks of his style:
In addition, if you paid him well enough, he was capable of some fine decorative folk-art reliefs.
The Giffin family, buried in Speer Spring Cemetery, employed him almost exclusively:
In memory of
ROBERT H. GIFFIN
who departed this life
in the 19 year of his
—age—
April 22 AD 1842
In memory of
ANDREW GIFFIN
who departed this life
in the 53d year of his
—age—
Aug. 12, AD 1841.
In
memory of
Samuel Webster Giffin
who departed this life
Sept. 18th, AD 1838, aged
9 months and 25 days
—
In
memory of
ELIZABETH McCOY
Consort of Andrew H. Giffin
who departed this life
May the 15th AD 1842, in
the 36th year of her age
— — —
Following his usual method of naming anonymous craftsmen after a distinguishing characteristic of their work, Father Pitt will call this artist the Master of the Curlicue I.
To round out the Giffin family plot, we include one broken tombstone done by a different craftsman:
IN
Memory of
ANDREW RAY
GIFFIN, who—
departed this life,
Febr. 11th, 1836
in the 13th year of
his age.
This little stone lay hidden under the ground until 2008, when a landscaper almost literally stumbled on it. It marks the grave of a small child who died in 1794, and that is all we know about her. But the stone and its inscription are very fine for the era, so we suspect her parents had some money. This Post-Gazette article by Ann Rodgers has the story of the stone’s discovery.
