One of the best things about blogging is the comments people make. On this blog, it usually means the comment is a synchronicity story. I enjoyed this story from glimmer . The players are: incredible odds, a graveyard, a name.
The graveyard is known as the Copp’s Hill Burying Ground, and as glimmer pointed out in her synchronicity, it’s the second oldest in Boston. It dates back to 1659 and is named after William Copp, who once owned the land. Thousands of artisans, crafts people and merchants are buried here.
On the Snowhill Street side of this cemetery are thousands of unmarked graves of African Americans who lived in the “New Guinea” area at the base of the hill. The most interesting residents, at least to me, are the Mather family of ministers – you know, the guys involved in the Salem witch trials, the inquisitors who believed in employing various torture techniques to determine whether you were a witch.At any rate, the synchro makes you wonder how often these kinds of things happen in old graveyards.
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I was in Boston, being given a tour by my husband’s good friend. I was telling him about my ancestors, saying “we’re mostly southerners, but a ship was blown off course in a storm during the colonial days and a bunch of C’s ended up in this area.” Something like that.
I had never been to Boston. We were in the second oldest graveyard there, the one overlooking the harbor. As I told him this story, I looked down to see a small gravestone with the words “Elijah C…. 1800 and something” the C was my last name. Not a usual last name, at all. This was obviously an ancestor.
We could not believe it. My husband’s friend has added this story and the grave to his little tour!
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This could be one of those trickster synchros – a bit bizarre, but trickster nonetheless!
I know! The professor, who was from CA, was joking about the ancestral tendencies. But obviously there was a kernel of truth to all that. My grandmother, who married into that family, was super religious, disapproved of them, especially for taking a shot of whiskey on holidays.
I bet the rowdy Highlanders were fun! I have a friend with such ancestors. He plans to move to the North Carolina mountains from Chattanooga with his wife when he retires. He says it feels like "home."
Horse thieves and slave traders?
For shame. 🙂
My ancestors in Scotland were cattle thieves–unless you paid them for 'protection.' One of the early insurance programs.
They weren't slave traders, but they became slaves and indentured servants in Jamaica when the powers to be, the king of England, cracked down on the rowdy Highlanders. – Rob
Well, the plot thickens. I said something else that day. I don't tell it, usually, unless I know the person. Because it's sensitive. But after reading your description of the graveyard and what you said about trickster synchros, I have to.
I did not know about the people buried in this graveyard until reading this. I am going to have our friend come here to confirm this happened. I even have a picture of the grave somewhere, I think. If not, I'll get one eventually.
That day, I was talking about what I had found out about my French-sounding last name (Huguenots) from a former professor who had researched it and written a book that family members purchased. I don't remember word-for-word what I said as we walked through the cemetery. I said the ancestors on my father's side settled in England and Northern Ireland after leaving France and then left for America.
I said "… we're mostly southerners, but a ship was blown off course during colonial days and a bunch of C's ended up in this area." I also quoted the professor at a family reunion as joking that the ancestors were an illustrious group, that the ship wreck survivors settled in the North and became "horse thieves. And others settled in the South and became slave traders." And it was then I looked down and saw Elijah C's grave next to my left foot.
There was at least one slaveholder in the family tree, in TN. I feel this aspect was asking for recognition that day. And I had no idea.
Thank you.
Good story. Wherever we travel we usually visit local churches or places of worship and their graveyards – such history to be found.
Thanks again, Glimmer, for sharing the story with us.
We found the grave going on 20 years ago, in the northern city I had never visited. And I still am blown away to think about it!
And it gives me a happy chill to see it in your blog. I'm glad it found a place here.
Wv =grailis
Congrats guys! Yipee!
Loved the graveyard story too.
Gypsy, actually, if you consider archaeological sites as graveyards–and they are in a sense – then yes, I have visited many.
CONGRATULATIONS ON THE FOREIGN SALE TO HAY HOUSE UK!!!
oh, interesting your not typically visiting graveyards, rob – i would have thought you would perhaps – i've always been fascinated with the headstones and their art and little bit of history/stories that they divulge –
can't tell you how much i love THE FOG!!!
I don't typically visit graveyards, but I happened to go to that one a couple of years ago while walking around Boston's historic trail. Trish missed it, stayed home while I was publicizing THE FOG.
what a terrific graveyard story – i've always loved browsing through cemeteries – reading the headstones and imagining the people and their lives and deaths – there are lots of very old cemeteries here with all kinds of stories, i'm sure –
love this graveyard tale –
and oh, yes, the mathers!!!