This Gothic shaft no longer bears any legible inscriptions except the name McKee in a shield halfway up the shaft and, added later, the name Dravo on the base. For genealogical purposes it is a disappointment, but as a picturesque accessory in the landscape it is probably even more delightful in its worn state than it was when it was new. It was probably put up in the 1870s; the plot owner was one Samuel McKee.
We take the cemetery’s word for it that this is a separate John Munhall from the one memorialized right behind this Gothic monument, but we reserve some private doubts. The cemetery site says this: “John Munhall was a landowner in West Mifflin Township in the late 19th century and a borough there was named after him; the stone with the inset angel is his. Margaret, Hetty, and another John are under the Gothic canopy tomb, unique in the Cemetery.” But Hetty and Margaret are definitely mentioned on the angel monument, as you can see in the picture Father Pitt has provided for you. On the other hand, it is hard to understand why John Munhall would require two expensive memorials. At any rate, this is a fine piece of Gothic stonework, but old Pa Pitt thinks it’s a bit of a shame that it had to be placed right in front of that splendid angel.
Perhaps one of the oldest monuments in the cemetery, which opened in 1849, the year Michael McCullough died. It is a striking and harmonious Gothic composition whose prominent cross seems an organic part of the design rather than an afterthought.
This must have been one of the earliest interments in the cemetery, which opened in 1849, the year Henry Donnelly died. It is certainly grand, and more than a little mysterious—perhaps the most striking in-ground mausoleum in Pittsburgh. In the early and middle nineteenth century, these mausoleums cut into a hillside were the usual resting places of the rich; they are always referred to as “mausoleums,” anyway, but perhaps they would more properly be called tombs, reserving “mausoleum” for a free-standing building. They fell out of favor by the 1870s or so, and proper mausoleums came into fashion.
The top has broken off this ornate Gothic monument, and the fallen cap is just leaning against the base right now. The statue inside is also headless. John and Margaret Schoenberger were neighbors of the Allegheny Cemetery, and after Margaret died John sold their estate to become part of the cemetery grounds. This monument probably dates from Margaret’s death in 1876.
