Innovation and Implementation: Critical Reflections on New Approaches to Historic Mortuary Data Collection, Analysis, and Dissemination 9781805390459, 9781805390466

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Innovation and Implementation

Innovation and Implementation Critical Reflections on New Approaches to Historic Mortuary Data Collection, Analysis, and Dissemination

Edited by

Harold Mytum and Richard Veit

First published in 2023 by Berghahn Books www.berghahnbooks.com © 2023 Harold Mytum and Richard Veit All rights reserved. Except for the quotation of short passages for the purposes of criticism and review, no part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without written permission of the publisher. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Names: Mytum, Harold, editor. | Veit, Richard F., editor. Title: Innovation and Implementation: Critical Reflections on New Approaches to Historic Mortuary Data Collection, Analysis, and Dissemination / Richard Veit and Harold Mytum. Description: New York: Berghahn, 2023. | Includes bibliographical references and index. Identifiers: LCCN 2023016599 | ISBN 9781805390459 (hardback) | ISBN 9781805390466 (ebook) Subjects: LCSH: Cemeteries—Recording. | Cemeteries—Research. | Burial records—Research. Classification: LCC CS22 .I66 2023 | DDC 363.7/5—dc23/ eng/20230426 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2023016599 British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library ISBN 978-1-80539-045-9 hardback ISBN 978-1-80539-046-6 ebook https://doi.org/10.3167/9781805390459

Headstone to Philip Rahtz, Kirkdale, North Yorkshire. Photograph by Harold Mytum.

Harold Mytum dedicates this volume to Philip Rahtz, who encouraged the archaeological recording and analysis of graveyard memorials in Britain. He inspired and advised me in following my archaeological interests while at school through my early excavation directing days, until I was a colleague in the fledgeling Department of Archaeology at the University of York, of which he was founding professor. Richard Veit dedicates this volume to his father, Richard Veit Sr., who taught history and geography in the Westfield, New Jersey, public school system. During the American Bicentennial, he was inspired to visit and photograph central New Jersey’s colonial burial grounds and brought me along as an assistant and companion. These visits to the colonial burial grounds of South Plainfield, Westfield, Scotch Plains, Springfield, and Elizabeth, instilled in me a curiosity about historic burial grounds that persists to the present day.

Contents

List of Illustrationsix Acknowledgmentsxvi Introduction1 Harold Mytum and Richard Veit Part I. Exploring Surface, Subsurface, and Documentary Evidence   1. Applying Reflectance Transformation Imaging (RTI) to Record and Interpret Mortuary Monuments Harold Mytum   2. Uncovering History at Washington Monumental Cemetery: Ground-Penetrating Radar and Victims of the 1918 Influenza Pandemic Mark Nonestied   3. Is There Anyone out There? Survey and Research Techniques for CRM Projects When Burial Grounds and Cemeteries Border Construction Projects Bob Dean and Mickey Dobbin   4. Who Lies Where? A Land and Air-Based Survey Methodology for Documenting Historic Cemeteries Richard W. Hunter, James S. Lee III, Alexis Alemy, and Evan Mydlowski

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Part II. Field Recording of Monuments and Burial Ground Management   5. Revisiting Historic Burial Grounds Anne G. Giesecke and Dan G. Steffen

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6. An International Mortuary Monument Recording System: From Site Analysis to International Comparative Studies Harold Mytum 7. “As Old as Pompeii or Herculaneum”: Kolkata, India’s South Park Street Cemetery, an Example of Rapid Recording Richard Veit 8. Standing for Sacred Spaces: NC Department of Natural and Cultural Resources and the African American Cemetery Project Melissa A. Timo and John J. Mintz 9. Mourning and Remembering: Mortuary Monuments and Graves for Horses in Finland Tiina Äikäs, Janne Ikäheimo, Tuija Kirkinen, Karin Hemmann 10. Preserving the Rainbow Bridge: A Guide to Recording Pet Cemeteries Eric Tourigny

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Part III. Archiving and Dissemination 11. Discovering England’s Burial Spaces: Digital Archives and Their Potential for Burial Space Research Toby Pillatt, Gareth Beale, Katie Green, Julian D. Richards, and Nicole Smith 12. The Cemetery Surveyor Application: Non-Paper DataCollection Methods in Luxembourg Burial Grounds Christoph K. Streb, Cyrille Médard de Chardon, and Thomas Kolnberger 13. A Website for St. James’ Cemetery, Liverpool: Demonstrating the Value of Material Culture in the Dissemination of Cemetery Data Online Anna Fairley Nielsson

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14. Burial Ground Recording and Analysis: Where Next? Harold Mytum and Richard Veit

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Illustrations

Figures 1.1. Conducting RTI in the field; J. R. Peterson (standing) holds the flash, Eve Campbell (kneeling) holds the string to ensure the flash is at a consistent distance from the target. She will stand out of the way and the photograph will be taken from this flash psosition. This will be repeated for each flash position. © Harold Mytum. 1.2. Images derived from different options within RTIViewer from the same set of digital images, on a memorial from Balrothery, Co. Dublin. A: Default; B: Diffuse Gain; C: Normal Unsharp Masking; D: Normals Visualization; E, F: Specular Enhancement with two different directions of lighting. © Harold Mytum. 1.3. Nativity scene on a headstone with heavy lichen colonization, Termonfeckin, Co. A: Default; B: Normals Visualization; C: Specular Enhancement of Mary, Jesus, and Joseph; D: Specular Enhancement of cherub. © Harold Mytum. 1.4. Headstone CLN102 with hood moulding making directional lighting challenging, Collon, Co. Louth. A: Default; B: Specular Enhancement lit from below; C: Normals Visualization. © Harold Mytum. 1.5. Top and bottom of a ledger, Killeen, Co. Mayo. Top: Diffuse gain of the top portion of a ledger; the target sphere has not been trimmed off this image; Bottom: Bottom portion of the same ledger, note how the flash lighting is only effective on part of the ledger. © Harold Mytum. 2.1. View of Washington Monumental Cemetery with the Borough of South River in the background. © Mark Nonestied.

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2.2. Views of the southeast corner of Washington Monumental Cemetery. © Mark Nonestied. 2.3. Photograph taken by Richard Van Dyke Reid, 13 October 1898, “from hill, south part of cemetery, eastward.” The image captures the earliest development of the southeast corner. Image courtesy of the South River Historical and Preservation Society, Inc. 2.4. Washington Monumental Cemetery, South River, NJ, 5 October 2018. Simplified interpretation of all probable (black) and possible (gray) burials. The family lots can be seen at the top of the map in comparison to those below in the void. The circular dots indicate grave markers. Image courtesy Horsley Archaeological Prospection, LLC. 2.5. The domes of Saints Peter and Paul Orthodox Church, South River, and a detail of the Wisotzky marker in the southeast corner of Washington Monumental Cemetery. © Mark Nonestied. 3.1. Location of Elbridge in central New York. Map created by Bob Dean and Mickey Dobbin. 3.2. Project map for Elbridge Rural Cemetery with 2009 orthoimagery of sexton’s map. © New York State Geographic Information System Clearinghouse (NYS GIS Clearinghouse). 3.3. View from just north of the cast iron fence marking the northern boundary of Elbridge Rural Cemetery looking Southwest. © Bob Dean and Mickey Dobbin. 3.4. Graph showing the total percent of interments through Elbridge Rural Cemetery’s history based on its certainty of provenience within the grounds as well as total of all names in the compiled list. Note the percentage of interments not initially identified during walkover but identified with varying degrees of certainty with later research follow the same trend as interments overall, while interments never identified remain low in the nineteenth century and peak in the early twentieth century. Image created by Bob Dean and Mickey Dobbin. 3.5. Comparative GPR sampling profiles of known burial locations taken in Elbridge Rural Cemetery. Dates left to right are post-1950, early 1900s, and later 1800s. Image courtesy New York State Museum, Albany, NY. 4.1. Two oblique drone-acquired aerial views of the Union United Methodist Cemetery in Centre Square, Logan

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4.3.

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4.5.

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5.4. 5.5. 6.1. 6.2.

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Township, Gloucester County, New Jersey. Image © Hunter Research, Inc. Geo-rectified aerial site plan of the Union United Methodist Cemetery in Centre Square, Logan Township, Gloucester County, New Jersey. Image © Hunter Research, Inc. Flow diagram showing the integration of data sets in a cemetery geographic information system. Image © Hunter Research, Inc. Portion of the aerial site plan from the Union United Methodist Cemetery CGIS as viewed in ArcReader, highlighting a single-family plot with a monument, seven grave markers, and nine memorialized individuals. Image © Hunter Research, Inc. Typical data view windows for a grave marker and memorialized individual linking to a portion of the aerial site plan from the Union United Methodist Cemetery CGIS. Image © Hunter Research, Inc. Page from the 1976 project report by Anne G. Giesecke for Gumpus Hill Cemetery, Pelham, New Hampshire. © Anne G. Giesecke. Wax rubbing by Anne G. Giesecke of the gravestone of Rebkah Butler, Gumpus Hill Cemetery, Pelham, New Hampshire. © Anne G. Giesecke. Notebook page from the field notes by Anne G. Giesecke from Thornton Hill Cemetery, Merrimack, New Hampshire. © Anne G. Giesecke. Headstone and footstone, Gumpus Hill Cemetery, Pelham, New Hampshire. © Dan G. Steffen. Activity areas of a New England town center during the eighteenth century. Drawing by Anne G. Giesecke. Memorial recording form. Image created by Harold Mytum. Memorial recording code sheet—example page showing hierarchical tomb recording. Image created by Harold Mytum. Hierarchical headstone recording. Image created by Harold Mytum. International comparison of typology. Form 5107 used across the globe. A: Trafalgar Cemetery, Gibraltar; B: Newport, Pembrokeshire, Wales; C: Steele Creek, North Carolina; D: St. John’s Burial ground, Parramatta, Australia. © Harold Mytum.

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6.5. From site-level to comparative analysis. Introduction of granite and marble as materials for memorials and the reduction in the use of the local stone. Top: Old Presbyterian Section, Rookwood cemetery, Sydney, Australia. Bottom: Sample of Yorkshire graveyards, England. Image created by Harold Mytum. 7.1. Interior peristyle and entrance to the South Park Street Cemetery. © Richard Veit. 7.2. Massive obelisk of Sir William Jones undergoing restoration. © Richard Veit. 7.3. Pair of masonry box tombs with classical details. © Richard Veit. 7.4. Finely proportioned temple with a Doric entablature. © Richard Veit. 7.5. A: Column markers like these were typically employed by company officials in the early nineteenth century. These are for Sarah Rosalie Robinson (died 1818) and James Robinson (died 1819); James served as Assistant Surgeon and Keeper of the Insane Hospital. B: The distinctive tomb of Major General Charles Stuart (died 1828); note the extensive and elaborate carvings. C: An obelisk and a small Mughal-style tomb. D: Elizabeth Barwell’s pyramidshaped tomb in the South Park Street Cemetery, c. 1778. © Richard Veit. 7.6. Sarcophagus-style marker with a marble plaque for Gulielmus (William) Jackson, died 1807. © Richard Veit. 9.1. Taxidermed head of Eri-Aaroni in the Laihia Museum. © Tuija Kirkinen. 9.2. Double burial of Rymy-Murto (left) and Valokas (right). © Tuija Kirkinen. 9.3. Reburial of Rymy-Murto and Valokas covered with spruce branches. © Tuija Kirkinen. 9.4. Map of the horse burials at Mikonkangas and the year of their documentation. Map by Tiina Äikäs and Janne Ikäheimo. 9.5. Grave for two horses that had died in different years. © Tiina Äikäs. 9.6. Evolution of a horse grave. Top: an undecorated grave in 2018. Bottom: A new memorial added at the grave in question, documented in 2020. © Janne Ikäheimo. 10.1. Headstone shapes commonly observed in British pet cemeteries. A: Flat-topped; B: round-topped; C: Gothicstyle pointed; D: Sinuous-topped headstone with shoulders.

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10.4. 10.5.

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All photographs of headstones from the Hyde Park Pet Cemetery taken by Eric Tourigny with permission of The Royal Parks. A: Desk memorial, erected to the memories of Sally and Flossie (died 1955); B: Kerb memorial, erected to the memory of Sammy a “Wire-haired Terrier Pal who died 17 June 1958, Aged 11 years.” C: Headstone, 1899, demonstrating the use of quotation marks on either side of the pet’s name. D: Headstone, 1958, demonstrating the placement of a family surname (Clarke) in brackets. A, B, D from the PDSA Pet Cemetery, C from Hyde Park Pet Cemetery. © Eric Tourigny; C taken with permission of The Royal Parks. Examples of headstones noting the manner of death. A: Headstone for the poodle named Turk who was “Run Over” on 3 April 1898. B: Headstone for Patch, died October 1893. The epitaph reads: “A friend of a lifetime and for thirteen years a devoted companion. She suffered and those who loved her best helped her to pass on.” C: Headstone to the memory of Fritz and their son Balu who was “Poisoned by a Cruel Swiss” in Berne in 1899. D: Some recipients of the Dickin Medal for their work in World War II are buried at the PDSA pet cemetery in Ilford, UK. The clean and maintained marble headstones of the two medal recipients pictured here clearly contrast against the unmaintained burials of other pets erected around the same time. All photographs taken by Eric Tourigny, A, B, C with permission of The Royal Parks. Field recording form template for pet cemeteries. Image created by Eric Tourigny. Coding system to help quickly assess monuments in the field and consistently fill out forms. Image created by Eric Tourigny from Mytum (2000). The search interface of the BSRD can facilitate complex queries. Screen capture by Toby Pillatt, Gareth Beale, Katie Green, Julian D. Richards, and Nicole Smith. Each dataset within the BSRD also has its own archive page and unique DOI, ensuring the data remain findable and accessible. Screen capture by Toby Pillatt, Gareth Beale, Katie Green, Julian D. Richards, and Nicole Smith. The OASIS burial spaces module enables better reporting of surveys with subject-specific data capture. Screen capture courtesy of Jo Gilham.

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11.4. Top: The memorial identifier walks users through the process of classifying grave monuments according to an array of diagnostic characteristics. Screen capture by Toby Pillatt, Gareth Beale, Katie Green, Julian D. Richards, and Nicole Smith. Bottom: Participants from community heritage groups test the Qualtrics forms at our evaluation workshop. Screen capture and photograph by Toby Pillatt, Gareth Beale, Katie Green, Julian D. Richards, and Nicole Smith. 11.5. Top: The DEBS digitization spreadsheets convert numerical type codes back into text. Bottom: The DEBS workflow. Screen capture and workflow by Toby Pillatt, Gareth Beale, Katie Green, Julian D. Richards, and Nicole Smith. 12.1. List of requested actions for the grave level recording. Screen captures by Christoph K. Streb, Cyrille Médard de Chardon, and Thomas Kolnberger. 12.2. CSA cemetery (left), section (center), and grave list (right) selection screenshots on a smart phone. Note the color association between the “add feature” buttons coding and their respective view. The shaded (red) blocks in the grave items list indicates an incomplete survey of items within. Screen captures by Christoph K. Streb, Cyrille Médard de Chardon, and Thomas Kolnberger. 12.3. CSA cemetery, section, and grave survey screenshots on a smart phone. Screen captures by Christoph K. Streb, Cyrille Médard de Chardon, and Thomas Kolnberger. 12.4. WCS desktop browser screenshots of project (top-left), cemetery (top-right), section (bottom-left), and grave (bottom-right) lists. Screen captures by Christoph K. Streb, Cyrille Médard de Chardon, and Thomas Kolnberger. 12.5. WCS desktop browser screenshots of survey customization interface (top-left) and cemetery, grave, and section surveys (clockwise). Screen capture by Christoph K. Streb, Cyrille Médard de Chardon, and Thomas Kolnberger. 12.6. WCS desktop browser screenshots of importing photographs (left), associating a photo with a specific category (top right, dashed lines on screen), and displaying associated photos (bottom-right). Screen captures by Christoph K. Streb, Cyrille Médard de Chardon, and Thomas Kolnberger. 13.1. Percentage of cemetery websites discussing each element analyzed. Image created by Anna Fairley Nielsson.

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13.2. St. James’s Cemetery, looking north, 1829, by T. M Baynes and R. Fenner. 13.3. View of St. James’ Cemetery 1896. Image 352 PSP/26/13/17. Courtesy Liverpool Record Office, Liverpool Libraries. 13.4. Comparison of percentages of individuals buried and individuals commemorated with relation to age. Image created by Anna Fairley Nielsson. 13.5. Infographic depicting gender relationships from St. James’ Cemetery website. Screen capture by Anna Fairley Nielsson. 13.6. The symbols page on the St. James’ Cemetery website. Screen capture by Anna Fairley Nielsson. 14.1. Photogrammetric photography of memorials. A: Agisoft screen during the processing of the images. B: Headstone as viewed from the front and above. C: Headstone from the back. Images created by Francesca Boschetti and Rob Philpott. 14.2. Biography of a memorial. Inscriptional events on memorial erected by Patrick Flanagan at Monasterboice, Co. Meath. Image created by Harold Mytum and Richard Veit. 14.3. Student recording as part of undergraduate training. Left: University of Liverpool students at Toxteth Park Cemetery, Liverpool. Right: University of Georgia, Athens students at Old Athens Cemetery, Athens, GA. Images created by Harold Mytum, Richard Veit, and Jennifer Birch.

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Tables 1.1. 4.1. 7.1. 7.2. 7.3.

Equipment required for memorial recording. Five United Methodist Church cemeteries in New Jersey. An example of detailed recording. Information recorded during rapid recording. Gravemarker forms along main paths of the South Park Street Cemetery based on rapid recording. 7.4. Stonecutters represented by signed plaques in the South Park Street Cemetery.

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Acknowledgements

Acknowledgments

The editors would like to thank all those who participated in the creation of this volume, and we are grateful that researchers from a wide range of countries and heritage sectors have been able to contribute to it. This volume was completed under the constraints that the editors and all authors have had to endure during the COVID-19 pandemic. We are grateful those who have supported us in our varying degrees of isolation and stress over the last eighteen months while we were creating this important collection of essays.

Introduction Harold Mytum and Richard Veit

The field of mortuary studies is anything but moribund. New technologies and methodologies are breathing new life into cemetery studies. However, these innovations are not widely known and there is a tendency for scholars to labor alone unaware of relevant research that could aid them in their endeavors. In this volume we summarize and critically reflect on the effectiveness of new methodologies. Sadly, only a few weeks after this project began COVID-19 would fragment the world into isolation of varying degrees, a situation that continued through to the time of the volume’s submission. Surrounded by stories of pandemic, death, and burial, with funerals and commemoration limited, the authors of these chapters have valiantly pressed on in preparing their contributions. They examine how we can, as social life resumes, encourage a “new normal” in fieldwork associated with historic burial grounds and their monuments, and apply more effective methods at all stages of our non-invasive burial ground research. This volume aims to set out new methodologies of recording and ambitious combinations of various techniques frequently developed in other aspects of archaeology but not often considered for a historic burial ground survey. The volume has been divided into three parts, the first considering documentary research and recording mortuary landscapes, the second reflects on memorial recording projects, and the third on a traditional weakness in mortuary studies—that of archiving and wider dissemination of data and interpretations. In “Part I. Exploring Surface, Subsurface, and Documentary Evidence,” three chapters emphasize different aspects of the complex subdiscipline of mortuary landscape study. Harold Mytum discusses innovation in photographing memorials, introducing the application of Reflectance Transformation Imaging (RTI) for memorials in which traditional oblique lighting is insufficient (Chapter 1). In North America, and especially New England, gravestone photography is a key recording technique that has been widely employed for decades. Indeed, the first true scholarly study of New England gravestones, Gravestones of Early New England, and the Men Who Made Them, 1653–1800, exemplifies this approach. This

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technique was taken up by art historians (Ludwig 1966; Ludwig 1966; Tashjian and Tashjian 1974; Duval and Rigby 1978 and others) as well as anthropologists, beginning with James Deetz and Edwin Dethlefsen (Deetz and Dethlefsen 1965, 1967; Dethlefsen and Deetz 1966, 1967) and continues to the present day (Little 1998; Mould and Loewe 2006). However, gravestone photography using natural light is challenging (AGS 2003). Raking sunlight in the midday hours has long been the gold standard for outdoor photography, but some markers are set flush with the ground or oriented in such a way that they are never particularly well lit. Long mirrors and photographers’ reflectors can cast light on such reluctant subjects, as can LED light strips, but the results often appear unnatural. RTI imaging provides a new method for documenting poorly lit and eroded stones and is straightforward enough to be widely employed. RTI involves creating multiple images using a tripod and flash, and then analyzing the set of images to create combined files for display, making this a time-consuming process. But its results can be outstanding. Almost all the necessary equipment is standard for those with a moderate interest in photography, and the additional items are easy to obtain, with the processing and display software available as free downloads. Already used by avocational groups, RTI can serve to record monuments for research, public interpretation, and monument conservation and management. Though not a standard recording method required for most memorials, RTI can replace potentially damaging rubbing, and can tease out data otherwise lost to erosion or obstruction by lichen. In research conducted prior to the COVID-19 pandemic, Mark Nonestied (Chapter 2) considers the unmarked areas of the previous global pandemic: the 1918 influenza that followed on from the horrors of World War I. He provides a methodology that demonstrates how these forgotten deaths can be located, using the example of Washington Monumental Cemetery, South River, New Jersey, where documentary and oral history were combined with ground-penetrating radar to demonstrate the area of burial and the maintenance of providing individual graves, not the mass grave suggested by oral history. This work is especially significant for highlighting the interstitial, overlooked areas in historic cemeteries, where a lack of formal above-ground memorials may trick visitors into thinking these are empty spaces. Thanks to Nonestied and his team’s work, we know this is not the case. Indeed, the above-ground markers are often just the tip of the iceberg compared to what remains below ground. At the Monumental Cemetery, parsing out pandemic victims from other unmarked graves remains challenging, but the likely area of the cemetery is now known. The near future may see more public interest in commemorating these past pandemic victims, and this exemplary program allows this memorializing to happen.

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The location and survey of historic burial grounds is a common cultural resource management project, particularly in North America. While Bob Dean and Mickey Dobbin demonstrate, like Nonestied, the importance of documentary research and ground-penetrating radar, they also used online genealogy resources and rapid survey of extant memorials in their funerary landscape to create a holistic knowledge base and define the extent of the cemetery (Chapter 3). This work can inform decision-making linked, in this case, to a road scheme affecting Elbridge Rural Cemetery, New York, but could also enable better ongoing management, public interpretation, or a base line for the development of further research. In their survey of five “orphaned” burial grounds in New Jersey, Richard W. Hunter et al. concentrate on the material evidence—rather than the documentary, with an emphasis on compiling the individuals interred at the sites (Chapter 4). The most innovative aspect of the project is the use of an Unmanned Aerial Vehicle (UAV), often referred to as a drone, to conduct a photographic survey that provided an additional layer to the data sets displayed through a GIS system. This technology presented new opportunities to display and interrogate the data in a variety of ways and via elements of the data management systems. Perhaps most interesting is that these aerial photographs provide an efficient way to map cemeteries as well as to observe differences in terrain that can influence burial placement. “Part II. Field Recording of Monuments and Burial Ground Management” focuses on recording memorial assemblages as a whole, but with an awareness that these are situated in time and place, and with highly variable social contexts. Nevertheless, standardization in aspects of methodology has an advantage, and in the developing subfield of pet cemeteries the similarities and difference of such sites with those of human burial grounds is also explored through two innovative projects. The extent to which recording methods have developed since the ground-breaking surveys of the 1970s, and also the attrition of that archaeological resource, is explored by Anne Giesecke and Dan Steffen (Chapter 5), who visited three New Hampshire burial grounds after almost four decades. The problems of archive survival are highlighted, together with potential applications of new techniques. This work is especially important for highlighting the rapid degradation of early American burial grounds, and should serve as a clarion call to a new generation of scholars interested in recording historic burial grounds. It is also striking how hard it is to locate some early survey data, and researchers today should ensure that their records are archived so that they can be consulted by future researchers. One comprehensive system that has been available in the UK for a couple of decades has now been revised and expanded to be more useful

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internationally. Harold Mytum explains the logic of this system, which provides a hierarchical recording system that allows complex questions to be asked of the data (Chapter 6). Once applied across a range of sites and by different researchers, a coherent data base can be created that places memorial research alongside other artifact studies with standard recording methodologies and principles such as ceramics and glass. Trialled by both students and community groups, the system enables those interested in their local heritage to contribute to wider questions, and these efforts as well as those by heritage professionals can be digitally archived as described by Julian Richards et al. (Chapter 11). Chapter 11 includes examples of the comparative study of shifts in geological and typological preferences across the globe. They build on regional studies in Britain and Ireland that used an earlier version of the recording system, and demonstrate the system’s potential that standardized recording brings. Not all surveys can be comprehensive, and may involve complex architectural structures. Veit explores how a rapid recording method can collect substantial data sets, using the example of Kolkata India’s South Park Street Cemetery (Chapter 7). Much quoted by cemetery and architectural historians, an archaeological perspective offers a distinctive insight and demonstrates how effective walkover surveys can be in obtaining, in this case, iconographic detail that complements the more obvious architectural components. Working in non-Western contexts requires cultural sensitivity, but equally descendant communities in every country have interests in their burial grounds, of which researchers and heritage managers need to be aware. Melissa A. Timo and John J. Mintz outline how African American perspectives and priorities form part of the planning, implementation, and results in managing mortuary sites in North Carolina (Chapter 8). This effort is supported by legislation—the African American Burial Ground Network Act, which gives official impetus that others may now follow, though other aspects of the implementation of engagement can be applied elsewhere even without legal basis. Archaeologists have a tradition of researching human burial grounds and monuments, but pet cemeteries have only recently become a focus of research, so the two chapters by the leading innovators in this field are welcome. The Mikonkangas Pet Cemetery, in Oulu, Finland, has a large number of horse burials, many under mounds and marked with some form of memorial (Chapter 9). Such studies are particularly welcome as many societies are re-examining human-animal relationships. This long-term study by Tiina Äikäs et al. examined changes in the site over time, and through interviews has collected oral data to expand beyond the material remains to understand the motivation and practices in the commemoration of these treasured animals. Tourigny has adapted the memorial recording system developed by Mytum (Chapter 6) to British

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pet cemeteries, using the earliest public pet cemetery in Hyde Park, London, as a primary example but with later comparators elsewhere (Chapter 10). Using the data to examine human-animal relationships, he discovers how memorial forms may mirror those of humans, though smaller in size. In contrast, the text has a different focus and tend to have limited iconography or decoration, allowing consideration of how emotional ties between people and animals (largely dogs in this study) differ from those among human family members. One of the challenges of historical archaeology is the deposition of archives and artifacts, and their accessibility to future generations of scholars. Witness the loss of data noted by Giesecke and Steffen. While for excavations, the volume of artefact collections and the structure of archives with a wide range of materials and formats often present challenges, for burial ground survey data, finding an institution prepared to accept the archive can be a formidable task. Moreover, the dissemination of materials and interpretations on the web has been dominated by the genealogical concerns of mainly commercial sites, some of which charge for access to particular records. We therefore have included “Part III. Archiving and Dissemination” to address some of these crucial issues. Richards et al. tackle the application of digital recording in the field, and the allied though distinct issue of digital archiving, in reporting on the Discovering England’s Burial Spaces (DEBS) project (Chapter 11). This work includes the recording system discussed by Mytum (Chapter 6) but here the focus is on whether on-site recording can be transformed into systems using phones or tablets as well as on the process of archiving data that can be formalized and streamlined to lower costs and facilitate comparison. While digital recording has not made progress to fully operative systems that community groups and others can easily operate, the archiving issues identified by Giesecke and Steffen (Chapter 5), and experienced by many working on historic memorial projects, now have a solution in a digital format, and the Archaeology Data Service now houses a number of assemblages from some of Mytum’s recording projects. This digital editing and archiving for open access demonstrates how legacy data can be updated and integrated into the system, a further advantage of the various elements of this project. Another approach to digital recording was developed by Streb et al. for the distinctive, relatively recent and contemporary Continental European cemetery memorials, applied through examples in Luxembourg (Chapter 12). The Cemetery Surveyor Application (CSA) and Web Cemetery Surveyor (WCA) were designed using open-source software, but the Android tablet application, like the DEBS trial, indicated that on-site recording had potential but also limitations. Instead, photographs supported by notes enabled PC versions of the software to operate effectively. There is

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little doubt that, as IT becomes more intuitive and sophisticated, these trials will form the basis for the design of integrated digital recording, particularly for memorials like the Luxembourg examples, where text is easily read. That said, it is interesting to note that in some cases, practitioners still prefer pen and paper recording in the field to using mobile devices and apps. Presenting the material characteristics of cemeteries on the web is often limited, even on sites dedicated to a particular burial site, such as those run by cemetery friends’ groups. Some landscape features and major architectural structures are noted, but most interest is on the biographies of those interred and commemorated. Ways of integrating a material component into web sites is explored by Anna Fairley Nielsson using the Friends of St. James’ Cemetery, Liverpool, UK, site as a case study (Chapter 13). Here, wider demographic representation and iconographic and typological aspects complement the traditional cemetery public interpretation tropes. The more archaeologists work with local communities in their burial ground research, the easier it will be for professionals to work with them to create interpretive materials relevant to their lives. Biographies of the deceased, as only one potential output from cemetery research, and historical archaeologists are well placed to reveal the wide range of heritage aspects they offer. This volume provides a range of studies that showcase current cutting-edge methodologies. They reveal the range of topics within this subdiscipline, expanded to include pet cemeteries, where innovation is paying dividends. COVID-19 might have constrained activity in many places over the last couple of years, but this book will revive interest and activity within mortuary archaeology, and the editors are grateful to all contributors for their innovative efforts and their willingness to critically report them here. We learn as much from failures as from successes, and some aspects of innovation have yet to be perfected. Nevertheless, all chapters report significant new ideas and methods that are effective, albeit some aspects require further development. Some of this potential is discussed by Mytum and Veit in the conclusion, where they offer insights and suggestions about further progress that can enhance the quality and ease of data collection, analysis, and archiving. They also indicate the ways in which these improved data sets can be used to answer questions both specific to mortuary archaeology but also as part of wider historical archaeology debates and indeed across the discipline and multi-disciplinary endeavors. This volume reveals a dynamic aspect of historical archaeology that is embracing multidisciplinary and team-based projects alongside single researcher fieldwork. The prospects for mortuary archaeology are promising, and the papers in this volume point the way based on the experiences of those at the cutting edge of innovatory practice. Indeed, we expect that

Introduction

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future researchers will employ all manner of new technologies and techniques to record cemetery data. Three-dimensional recording of monuments, using artificial intelligence to identify historic carvers, employing soil chemistry to identify burial locations, and storing massive data sets in the Cloud may all be on the horizon (see Chapter 14). Gravemarkers were purposefully erected to convey information to future generations; thanks to technological and methodological innovations, more of those stories, both individual and collective, can be told and archived for future generations to access even if the original monuments decay.

Harold Mytum is Professor of Archaeology, University of Liverpool. His research interests include investigating identity and memory through settlement and mortuary evidence (seventeenth to twentieth centuries) from Britain, Ireland, and diasporic communities in North America and Australia. For over forty years, he has led projects recording graveyards and their monuments, and developed the standard method of recording monuments. His books include Recording and Analysing Graveyards (2000), Mortuary Monuments and Burial Grounds of the Historic Period (2004), and Death Across Oceans: Archaeology of Coffins and Vaults in Britain, America, and Australia (2018). Current research includes RTI photography (reflectance transformation imaging) on historic graveyard memorials. Richard Veit is a Professor of Anthropology and Associate Dean of the Wayne D. McMurray School of Humanities and Social Sciences at Monmouth University. At Monmouth, he teaches courses on historical archaeology, North American archaeology, cultural resource management, and local history. His research interests include gravestones and burial grounds, early American material culture, vernacular architecture, and conflict archaeology. He has authored/coauthored, or edited eight books and numerous articles. His PhD is from the University of Pennsylvania.

References AGS (Association for Gravetone Studies). 2003. AGS Field Guide No. 7: Photographing Gravestones. Greenfield, MA., Association for Gravestone Studies. Deetz, J., and E. Dethlefsen. 1965. “The Doppler Effect and Archaeology: A Consideration of the Spatial Aspects of Seriation.” Southwestern Journal of Anthropology 21(3): 196–206. ———. 1967. “Death’s Head, Cherub, Urn and Willow.” Natural History 76(3): 29–37. ———. 1971. “Some Social Aspects of New England Colonial Mortuary Art.” American Antiquity 36: 30–38.

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Dethlefsen, E., and J. Deetz. 1966. “Death’s Heads, Cherubs and Willow Trees: Experimental Archaeology in Colonial Cemeteries.” American Antiquity 31(4): 502–510. ———. 1967. “Eighteenth Century Cemeteries: A Demographic View.” Historical Archaeology 1: 40–42. Duval, F. Y., and I. B. Rigby. 1978. Early American Gravestone Art in Photographs. New York: Dover Publications. Forbes, H. M. 1927. Gravestones of Early New England and the Men Who Made Them, 1653–1800. Boston: Houghton Mifflin. Little, M. R. 1998. Sticks and Stones: Three Centuries of North Carolina Gravestone Art. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press. Mould, D. R., and M. Loewe. 2006. Historic Gravestone Art of Charleston, South Carolina, 1695–1802. Jefferson, NC: McFarland. Tashjian, A., and D. Tashjian. 1974. Memorials for Children of Change: The Art of Early New England Stonecarving. Middletown, CT: Wesleyan University Press.

PART I

Exploring Surface, Subsurface, and Documentary Evidence

CHAPTER 1

Applying Reflectance Transformation Imaging (RTI) to Record and Interpret Mortuary Monuments Harold Mytum

Introduction Archaeology relies heavily on visual data—observed in the field and recorded through drawings and photography. Visual data for gravestones relate to their shape, decoration, nature, and layout of lettering, all of which are hard to communicate without imagery. Archaeologists therefore need to devise strategies to record data in the field for further analysis, and to create an archive. Artists have drawn or painted graveyard scenes, with more or less accurate images of memorials, since antiquarian times. These artworks often emphasize the church in its setting, and the memorials may be recorded (or even imagined) to create an appropriate ambiance for the ecclesiastical building that is the focus of the image. These artworks can be valuable if used critically to build an understanding of the history and development of the burial ground, and occasionally may reveal significant details about monuments that are now either lost or poorly preserved. Antiquarian records of external memorials are relatively rare, however, compared to the number of images created for internal memorials. Archaeologists have also rarely made detailed drawings of external monuments, but have relied on other, faster ways of recording form and detail. Black-and-white photography has long been used to record memorials. The earliest large-scale study to use photographic images was that of Harriette Merrifield Forbes (1927) in her exploration of New England memorials. The first disciplines in North America to take a concerted interest in memorials were art history—well-used to utilizing photography—and folk life studies, which commenced their studies during the middle part of the twentieth century. Archaeological perspectives using photography

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commence in Britain and Ireland at the same time, and publications first appear during the 1940s (Longfield 1943, 1944, 1947; Herbert 1944; Barley 1948) that focus on regional styles, which they mainly illustrate with photographs, though occasionally with rubbings; few could invest the skill and time to create line drawings of complex designs that Burgess (1963) employed. North American archaeologists first took a coherent approach to burial ground monuments during the 1960s, when James Deetz and Edwin Dethlefsen combined their efforts on a regional scale, again in New England, studying data sets from a number of burial grounds across Massachusetts to examine both spatial and temporal variability in symbolism (Deetz and Dethlefsen 1965, 1967, 1971; Dethlefsen and Deetz 1966, 1967). This work was an important part of the new archaeology, though with its own focus that included more ideological components, perhaps because within historical archaeology more detail about the current belief systems in Puritan New England could be related to the material culture. The papers published on this research were explicit regarding theory and analytical methods, but silent on the recording and sampling process, though it seems that systematic photographing of relevant memorials was the main collection tool (Deetz and Dethlefsen 1967:37). Strangely, Deetz and Dethlefsen ignored the contemporary research and interpretations by art historians and folk life scholars (Ludwig 1966; Benes 1976, 1977), some of whom were exploring the theological implications of the iconography with sophisticated, though far from agreed upon, interpretations, and again relying on photographic images (Baugher and Veit 2014: 79–94). New England studies also frequently utilized rubbings of headstones for illustrations, in part because they could reproduce clearly even with relatively low-quality printing methods. British archaeological concerns with systematic memorial recording (though with limited analysis) started in the 1970s (Jones 1976), but was expanded and applied on a variety of studies from the 1980s and 1990s, with that broader developed methodology then published (Mytum 2000). These phases of recording relied on affixing prints to recording forms and storing large numbers of negatives. Most major studies concentrated on simple typologies, which did not require extensive photography in part because of the cost and the challenges of data management with numerous prints and negatives (Cannon 1986, Tarlow 1999). The advent of digital photography transformed the recording process and this, and other technical advances regarding surface survey and data storage, has led to a new generation of guidance (Mytum, 2019a, this volume Chapter 6). The use of oblique light in photography is normally the most effective means of obtaining a high-quality image. This effect is usually achieved

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using natural sunlight; but in cloudy conditions and for memorials in a difficult location, a similar effect can be achieved by using an appropriate remote flash to create the angling light source. For many memorials, these methods sufficiently capture the necessary information regarding the condition of the monument and the nature of any text and designs, but for some this approach remains ineffective. A newly available method—Reflectance Transformation Imaging (hereafter RTI)—is relatively labor intensive but enables the production of high-resolution images that can be interrogated to recover the overall design but also reveals details that might otherwise go unnoticed.

Reflectance Transformation Imaging (RTI)— Methodology in the Field RTI involves taking numerous digital images with the camera in a fixed location, as each exposure captures the same composition but with the flash positioned at a different angle. Many RTI applications have focused on portable artifacts in the museum context, and the use of a dome with fixed light positions can produce uniform and directly comparable images for a range of artifacts (Mudge et al. 2005; Piquette 2011; Bevan et al. 2013; Duffy 2013; Kinsman 2016). The domes are very effective but are only suitable for artefacts much smaller than a grave marker. Portable domes have been developed for the field, but they are for small lithic artifacts (Pawlowicz 2015), and only suffice for very small areas of a memorial. It is therefore necessary to apply the portable flash method (sometimes called H-RTI) for gravestone photography, a method already developed for use on rock art and graffiti (Mudge et al. 2012; Duffy 2013, Cosentino et al. 2015; Sammons 2018) but can also be used on artifacts including memorials (Mytum et al. 2017; Mytum and Peterson 2018). The only limit to the size of the object to be recorded in one image is the extent of reach of the flash, which in practice may mean that some memorials will require more than one set of RTI photography. Innovative Virtual Reflectance Transformation Imaging (V-RTI) is being developed using a combination of methods (Greaves et al. 2020) but is yet to recreate the detail that RTI gives, which is the key feature of the RTI outputs. V-RTI may yet provide an alternative approach, but at present also requires specialist software that is expensive. The digital camera required for RTI is able to take RAW files with the aperture and exposure set manually with a flash gun. The depth of field should be kept to a minimum so that visual emphasis is on the memorial face being recorded. While the flash gun can be attached to the camera by a long cable, it is much better (easier to handle and minimizes the chance

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of camera movement) to have wireless synchronization of flash and shutter. To capture the flash but not the ambient light, a neutral density filter is required. The camera remains fixed throughout the photography for one RTI image set, and a substantial tripod must be used, preferably on a firm surface. If the ground is not solid (muddy or soft sand), it may be worth placing down a board of wood, which can distribute the weight and support the tripod. Any vibration or movement means that the set of images has to be retaken. The flash has to be a standard distance from the center of the subject—ideally four times the diameter of the subject, though as low as twice the diameter has proved effective for memorials (Mytum et al. 2017; Mytum and Peterson 2018). Consistency of distance can be achieved through a low-tech solution with a length of string, but an electronic distance meter can enable a single fieldworker to carry out the recording. If string is used, this must be moved completely out of the field of view before the image is captured. For best results, images should be taken with the flash placed at regular intervals in both the horizontal and vertical dimensions, in essence roughly mirroring the arrangement of the lights within a dome. The angles of the flash in relation to the surface to be recorded should vary from c. 15 degrees to c. 60 degrees. Ideally, up to sixty images should be captured for each RTI image, but even twenty-four images can be sufficient for reasonable results. Sometimes it is not possible to obtain images from all 360 degrees; for example, if a monument is next to a wall. It may still be worthwhile attempting RTI, though the options for simulated light direction may be limited. The software from the images automatically calculates the position of the flash because two reflective spheres, preferably red or black, are placed within the field of view, and these have the position of the flash visible on their surface. The target spheres can be of any material but must be sufficiently shiny and fixed firmly in place for the complete set of images. Christmas decorations or snooker balls can be effective, held in place by modeling putty or reusable adhesive (e.g. Blu Tack), or can be fixed onto wire rods than can be inserted into the ground. As the spheres are normally trimmed off the final image after processing, the spheres should be placed away from the focus of interest—for example, on the ground to either side of a headstone in line with the front face of the monument, far enough away to be trimmed off, but close enough to record the flash. RTI recording is best achieved using a team of two in the field (Figure 1.1), but it can be undertaken by a single surveyor. A third team member with another laptop allows a start on processing of data from already photographed stones. While the photographic process is relatively simple, practical problems do arise because of uneven ground, vegetation, and vagaries of the weather. A series of practical suggestions are offered by

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Figure 1.1. Conducting RTI in the field; J. R. Peterson (standing) holds the flash, Eve Campbell (kneeling) holds the string to ensure the flash is at a consistent distance from the target. She will stand out of the way and the photograph will be taken from this flash position. This will be repeated for each flash position. © Harold Mytum.

Duffy (2013), while more specific advice for graveyard photography now available (Mytum et al. 2017; Mytum and Peterson 2018). Table 1.1 provides a checklist for the necessary equipment to carry out RTI in the field. Recorders should think ahead—placing the reflective spheres to catch the light from the flash but also so that they can later be trimmed out of the image; the camera needs to be positioned to capture the required image, not cast any shadow on the memorial (which may mean that recording cannot happen at certain times of the day); and they should have a system of moving around taking the sequence of images with the flash from all the necessary positions.

Reflectance Transformation Imaging (RTI)— Processing Methodology The digital photographs can be combined using software to create a range of image formats, using polynomial texture mapping (Malzbender et al. 2001), all of which can be carried out using free downloadable software available for Apple or Windows, produced by Cultural Heritage Imaging

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Table 1.1. Equipment required for memorial recording. Digital camera with manual settings. ISO set to 100-200, shutter speed 1/60 absolute minimum, aperture f/5.6—f/11. RAW images should be 8 MB minimum. Neutral density filter to remove the ambient daylight. Flash gun with wireless link to the camera, synchronizing flash and shutter release. Substantial camera tripod. Weights can hold the camera still in strong winds; though, if possible, these conditions should be avoided. Very bright light should also be avoided, especially if any shadow falls across the face to be recorded. Reflective target spheres are preferably black or red. A material such as “Blu Tack” can fix the spheres to the memorial. Mounting them on wire rods can allow them to be firmly fixed into the ground. We have found that spherical glass beads and Christmas tree decorations can be effective target spheres. A laptop, preferably connected to the camera while the images are taken, as these are easier to check with the larger screen, which can be shaded to allow a clear view in daylight. This arrangement allows one to avoid touching the camera to view its screen to ensure the images are suitable. It is wise to process one set of images in the field if there is time to check that everything is working according to plan. Processing the first downloaded image can take place while other memorials are being photographed. Recording forms with standard information including camera settings, distance of the camera from the memorial, and any notes regarding weather and other conditions. Color check target, 18 percent greyscale card and scale. This material enables postprocessing scaled images and color balancing. Use an information board with details of the memorial on the first image for identification purposes. All of these items are needed only for the preliminary photographs; they can be removed for the set to be processed for the RTI file. Measuring tape, string, tape, and cable ties enable recorders to adapt to local circumstances. A step ladder can raise up the holder of the flash for the correct angle and distance from a tall headstone An extendable pole with an attached flash may be an alternative, but ensure that the flash points consistently onto the target. Photographing at night can remove all ambient light and the flash can be farther away, even if weaker; make sure locals know that you intend to record at night. Sheet of stout wood or plywood if the tripod would otherwise stand on muddy or soft sand; a weight of a rope can also stabilize the tripod in strong winds, though if possible these should be avoided to prevent camera shake.

(2014). Besides the processing program, there is a downloadable Glossary document, and the web site showcases applications of RTI in various research and CRM contexts. The program and advice are periodically updated, but many of the basic details of the application of RTI as applied within archaeology are set out in Duffy (2013) and Mytum and Peterson (2018).

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Processing time can be considerable, so a dedicated laptop with an additional team member trained in the process can help prevent a backlog of data processing; it is significantly quicker to take the images for a memorial than it is to process the images, so there will be some backlog to catch up on after a day in the field. The person in charge of the processing must be familiar with all the stages of quality checking and processing, including removing any substandard images (such as ones taken by mistake or without flash, or with a shadow across the monument) from the processing set. The folders and files must be named appropriately and linked to some memorial identifier, such as a site code and monument number, to ensure effective data management and retrieval. The RTIBuilder program identifies the spheres, and one is selected as the fixed point, and often the exact size and location of the sphere has to be slightly edited manually. It is then possible to ensure that there has been no camera shake and that the spread of flash locations will make an appropriate image. Only then should the selected images be processed to create a blended file in which the location of the flash has been calculated for each of the selected digital photographs. After this step, it is possible to crop the images to remove the spheres. Next, the PTM Fitter program comes into play, though this only has to be undertaken by manually selecting the program the first time it is used after the programs have been downloaded and used on the laptop or PC. The PTM Fitter program creates an output PTM using the RGB (red/green/blue) option (stored in the assembly_files folder), and then the final fitting stage can be undertaken, creating the completed PTM for viewing in the finished_files folder generated by the program. Processing digital photographs to create a PTM file for viewing requires familiarity with the workflow required, and the various folders of files require considerable storage space. Viewing and interpreting the final PTM, by contrast, is easily accessible for many people with minimal training, and by using the downloaded program RTIViewer (Cultural Heritage Imaging 2013). The completed PTM file can be distributed widely, which allows multiple viewers to explore the options independently. The numerous other data files and folders do not need to be distributed but should ideally be archived; the Archaeology Data Service (2020) has developed an archiving protocol for the RTI files required for each object and an example recording Norse runes serves as an example (Smith et al. 2018). Recent research on enhancing RTI images in which the field images create uneven lighting (as can be the case because of either inefficient flash placing or the location of walls and vegetation limiting flash point locations in certain directions) may provide a solution to this limitation, but it has only been reported thus far in an experimental context (McGuigan and Christmas 2020). As this new method can be applied to existing

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data sets, it may be that if it is made more widely available it could allow subsequent enhancement of memorial imagery already recorded with uneven lighting.

Reflectance Transformation Imaging (RTI)— Viewing Image Options The RTIViewer allows scholars or even the public to examine and manipulate the image of a memorial, and they can easily adjust the apparent direction of light falling on the monument’s surface. Other processing options create different representations, some of which have the adjustable light direction while others combine all the image data to create a single processed image. Some of the options have proven more successful than others with regard to memorials, but the best one in any particular case depends on what attributes of a memorial require clarification and illustration, and the characteristics of the stone and its design. The total range consists of ten options: default, diffuse gain, specular enhancement, normal unsharp masking, image unsharp masking, luminance unsharp masking, coefficient unsharp masking, static multi light, dynamic multi light, normals visualization. All are worth considering for any particular case, but the options described and illustrated here for the same memorial are those that have proven the most frequently effective for memorials, in the author’s experience. The monument is at Balrothery, County Dublin, and is a water-rounded boulder onto which scrollwork at top and bottom has been incised, with text in the center (Figure 1.2). Its slightly curved surface is unusual, but it illustrates the adaptability of the method. It has been moved and set in concrete as it is small and could be easily lost; it is one of a regional style that belongs to the earliest headstone phase in that region (Mytum 2004). The RTIViewer options provide two main kinds of image manipulation; most provide the researcher with the ability to move the light source around what is in effect a hemispherical dome over the target area. The best images often come from a very oblique angle; but with the same option, different parts of the design may be shown to best effect when the light source is moved from one direction to another. For recording details, this can be very effective, but one image may not capture all the features. Two options—Static Multi Light and Normals Visualization— involve the creation of a single processed image from all the separate digital photographs. In some cases, this option provides the best overall representation of the memorial. Most of the images are in color; monochrome images do not necessarily reveal the on-screen detail possible with the RTIViewer.

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A

B

C

D

E

F

Figure 1.2. Images derived from different options within RTIViewer from the same set of digital images, on a memorial from Balrothery, Co. Dublin. A: Default; B: Diffuse Gain; C: Normal Unsharp Masking; D: Normals Visualization; E, F: Specular Enhancement with two different directions of lighting. © Harold Mytum.

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With every option, it is possible to enlarge the image on screen, and at any point this image can be captured as a jpeg by clicking on the camera icon. Because it is easy to generate a lot of jpegs for a single memorial, some form of naming system is necessary to keep clear which process created each image. The default setting (Figure 1.2A) provides unprocessed images generated just by the flash. In some cases, this image is perfectly adequate, but it can often be bettered by one of the other options. Diffuse gain (Figure 1.2B) often provides a higher contrast image; the amount of gain can be adjusted, with immediate visual effect on the image. The best light direction with this option may be different from that with the default. All the masking options can be similar but with different degrees of contrast; here, the normal unsharp masking is illustrated (Figure 1.2C). Often the best single image processing option is normals visualization, though this creates a sometimes lurid purple and green image. However, if it is made into a monochrome image, and with increased contrast, a very impressive image may result (Figure 1.2D). The most dramatic, and sometimes by far the most effective, option is that of specular enhancement. Here, all variables should be adjusted as necessary as this can dramatically affect the image quality and usefulness; diffuse color creates a more or less monochrome image, specularity affects how shiny—rather like the equivalent of dampness—on the surface, and highlight size affects the area with the “spotlight” of highlighted specularity. More than any other, this option often reveals more detail from different angles, as shown here (Figure 1.2E, 1.2F).

RTI in the Graveyard: Case Studies from Ireland The application of RTI to memorials is illustrated below through a series of Irish case studies, all of which have been acquired as part of team fieldwork; the collaborators are listed in the acknowledgements.

Termonfeckin, County Louth: Reducing the Visual Impact of Lichen Many graveyards in Ireland have excellent preservation of memorials, in part because the impact of acid rain has been less than for much of the rest of the British Isles because of the lack of industry in the west of Ireland and the prevailing westerly winds from off the Atlantic. This unpolluted air also encourages lichen growth, which may be ecologically beneficial but can make the reading and interpretation of memorials challenging. White lichens on shale or slate stones are particularly visually problematic.

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Even if the inscription can be read with care, and the symbols are identifiable, their details may be hard to discern, and the photographic record often does not capture these stylistic features. A

B

D

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Figure 1.3. Nativity scene on a headstone with heavy lichen colonization, Termonfeckin, Co. A: Default; B: Normals Visualization; C: Specular Enhancement of Mary, Jesus, and Joseph; D: Specular Enhancement of cherub. © Harold Mytum.

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A small number of memorials in County Louth display a most unusual scene—that of the Nativity (Mytum 2015, 2018). While some headstones have scenes that are easily recognizable, others are obscured by lichen. The most problematic headstone on which to discern detail was TF036, a headstone to James Sheridan, who died 1820. It is damaged at the top and has subsided to one side, but the camera was set up to create an image as if it were upright. The default oblique light reveals the Nativity scene (Figure 1.3A), but the normals visualization (Figure 1.3B) minimizes the visual impact of the lichen and creates the most useful overall image. Details of the various elements are most easily examined using specular enhancement (Figure 1.3C, D)

Collon, County Louth: High Relief and Hood Moulding Impeding Oblique Lighting The small graveyard at Collon, Co. Louth contained a wide range of memorials, many with lichen, but some also featured a hood moulding which meant that natural oblique sunlight cast a shadow on the design at the top of the stone (Figure 1.4A). Close examination and feeling the headstone CLN102 with fingertips allowed identification of the text and the design, but RTI was required to capture an adequate image. Specular enhancement enabled all details to be examined closely with the light from different directions, though light from below created the best overall view (Figure 1.4B). The most consistent representation of the whole of the memorial comes from the normals visualization, which reveals the details on the cherubs’ wings, the radiate IHS central design, and the Gloria in Excelsis Deo text round this. The tooling on the hood moulding can be clearly seen.

Killeen, County Galway: Photographic Ledger Stones One of the most common early monument forms in Ireland was the ledger, a stone slab that covered the whole of the grave. Any symbolism is normally at the head, and the text may be short but could cover the whole of the stone. Occasionally, marginal decoration occurs around the edge of the surface of the slab, and sometimes symbolism can appear at the foot. A regional style of memorials commissioned by Roman Catholic communities on Achill Island and the adjacent mainland have been studied to understand how and why this group, not normally represented by memorials in the early nineteenth century in the west of Ireland, created and supported a vibrant and distinctive ledger memorial tradition. As many of the ledgers are eroded, the RTI method has proved invaluable (Mytum et al. 2015).

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Figure 1.4. Headstone CLN102 with hood moulding making directional lighting challenging, Collon, Co. Louth. A: Default; B: Specular Enhancement lit from below; C: Normals Visualization. © Harold Mytum.

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Eroded ledger memorials rarely if ever have natural light at a suitable oblique angle to achieve a sufficiently clear image for photography. It may be easy to capture at an oblique angle with a flash, but this approach can only cover part of a monument as large as a ledger. This problem also applies to RTI, though the method often brings out greater detail on these memorials. Uniform lighting strength over the stone surface, and a nearer to vertical view from the camera, are best addressed by capturing a ledger with two or even three RTI images. Ledger KIL12 was the most highly decorated ledger at the site, with marginal decoration and a complex top design separated from the commemorative text by a dog tooth design (Figure 1.5A). This composition was best portrayed in a single image with diffuse gain. Three cherubs are at the top of the stone. A central radiate IHS with IN RI above the cross and twelve circles (presumably representing the disciples) fill the roundel. In addition, six birds with two pairs pecking at small boxes fill the space between the radiate IHS and the marginal decoration. A separate RTI image of the part of the ledger sits below the commemorative text, which shows the marginal decoration on the sides but not along the foot of the ledger, and carpenter’s tools carved in false relief. These show very well in a specular enhancement image (Figure 1.5B). The saw and chisel on the left and ax and plane on the right are set in two recessed elements, but there is no defined boundary like the dog tooth separation at the top of the stone. Detailed examination reveals the detail of the tools; the same applies to the lettering and the elements of the top design. This level of analysis would not be possible with traditional photography.

Conclusions The nature of inscription and carving techniques on many memorials makes the application of RTI extremely effective. It is too time-consuming and complex to record every stone, but for those with difficult or complex designs, and with lichen covering or partially eroded surfaces, it can be extremely valuable. It has also proved effective on some granite memorials where the text is hard to read after it has lost its paint (Mytum et al. 2017). Some memorial designs can be seen in detail for the first time using RTI, and so can be subject to previously impossible analysis. Publication-quality images can be created for some memorials that would otherwise be at best described in words but not illustrated. The RTI method can greatly enhance the recording and study of gravestone iconography and lettering, and it is possible with only a limited amount of equipment that is widely available. Community groups will

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Figure 1.5. Top and bottom of a ledger, Killeen, Co. Mayo. Top: Diffuse gain of the top portion of a ledger; the target sphere has not been trimmed off this image; Bottom: Bottom portion of the same ledger, note how the flash lighting is only effective on part of the ledger. © Harold Mytum.

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probably have a member with the necessary photographic equipment, skills, and interest, and groups in the UK have carried out such fieldwork (Beale and Beale 2012, 2015). The free software (Cultural Heritage Imaging 2013, 2014) and open-access online publications (Duffy 2013; Mytum et al. 2017; Mytum and Peterson 2018) mean that an IT-literate team member can contribute by processing the data sets, and even more can view the results and interpret them. The RTIViewer software is intuitive and easy to use, with the roller ball as a means of altering lighting direction and the drop-down menu of viewing options. This enables easy supervision of public interpretation; anyone can experience the excitement of transforming an illegible and unclear memorial into a visually stunning example where the text can be read and symbols identified. That images can be captured as jpegs allow for the easy distribution of images to the public and for publicity and wider dissemination. The RTI method can be a valuable university student tool to enhance computer literacy and develop skills in designing and implementing a project (Heizer 2017). RTI images can contribute to long-term conservation management; by recording monuments under threat from erosion at regular intervals, any deterioration can be noted, as legibility does not depend on natural lighting conditions (Gabov and Bevan 2011). Most memorials can be adequately recorded with standard digital photography, but extensive application of RTI at various burial grounds has demonstrated that appreciation of some memorials would benefit from the application of Reflectance Transformation Imaging (RTI), and should be used more widely.

Acknowledgments The Collon, Co. Louth case study was undertaken as part of the University of Liverpool Archaeological Field School, with the RTI undertaken with Kate Chapman and Alistair Cross. The Termonfeckin, Co. Louth RTI survey was with J. R. Peterson and at Killeeen, Co. Mayo with Eve Campbell and J. R. Peterson, with grants from the University of Liverpool and the Royal Irish Academy.

Harold Mytum is Professor of Archaeology, University of Liverpool. His research interests include investigating identity and memory through settlement and mortuary evidence (seventeenth to twentieth centuries) from Britain, Ireland, and diasporic communities in North America and Australia. For over forty years, he has led projects recording graveyards and their monuments, and developed the standard method of recording monuments. His books include Recording and Analysing Graveyards (2000), Mortuary Monuments and Burial Grounds of the Historic Period

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(2004), and (edited with L. Burgess) Death Across Oceans: Archaeology of Coffins and Vaults in Britain, America, and Australia (2018). Current research includes RTI photography (reflectance transformation imaging) on historic graveyard memorials.

References Archaeology Data Service. 2020. “Guidelines for Depositors: PTM and RTI. Electronic resource within the Archaeology Data Service.” Retrieved 8 April 2020 from https://archaeologydataservice.ac.uk/advice/guidelines/rti.xhtml. Barley, M. W. 1948. “Slate Headstones in Nottinghamshire.” Thoroton Society Transactions 52: 69–86. Baugher, S., and R. Veit. 2014. The Archaeology of American Cemeteries and Gravemarkers. Gainesville: University of Florida Press. Beale, G., and N. Beale. 2015. “Community-Driven Approaches to Open Source Archaeological Imaging.” In Open Source Archaeology, ed. A. T. Wilson and B. Edwards, B., 44–63. Warsaw, Poland: De Gruyter Open. Beale, N., and G. Beale. 2012. “The Potential of Open Models for Public Archaeology.” Proceedings of the Third Annual Digital Economy All Hands Conference, 2012. Retrieved 6 April 2021from Eprints Soton. https://eprints.soton .ac.uk/355830/1/de2012_submission_17.pdf. Benes, P. 1976. “The Caricature Hypothesis Re-Examined.” In Puritan Gravestone Art, ed. P. Benes, 57–67. The Dublin Seminar for New England Folklife, Annual Proceedings, 1976. Boston: Boston University Press. –––. 1977. The Masks of Orthodoxy: Folk Gravestone Carving in Plymouth County, Massachusetts, 1689–1805. Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press. Bevan, G., D. Lehous, and R. Talbert. 2013. “Reflectance Transformation Imaging of a ‘Byzantine’ Portable Sundial.” Zeitschrift für Papyrologie und Epigraphik 187: 221–229. Burgess, F. W. 1963. English Churchyard Memorials. London: SPCK. Cannon, A. 1986. “Socioeconomic Change and Material Culture Diversity: Nineteenth Century Grave Monuments in Rural Cambridgeshire.” Ph.D. dissertation. Cambridge, UK: University of Cambridge. https://doi.org/10.17863/CAM.20126. Cosentino, A., S. Stout, and C. Scandurra. 2015. “Innovative Imaging Techniques for Examination and Documentation of Mural Paintings and Historical Graffiti in the Catacombs of San Giovanni, Syracuse.” International Journal of Conservation Science 6(1): 23–34. Cultural Heritage Imaging. 2013. Reflectance Transformation Imaging. Guide to RTIViewer. Version 1.1. Cultural Heritage Imaging and Visual Computing Lab, ISTI—Italian National Research Council. Retrieved 8 April 2013 from http:// CulturalHeritageImaging.org/downloads/. Cultural Heritage Imaging. 2014. Reflectance Transformation Imaging Glossary of Photographic and Technical Terms for RTI. Version 1. San Francisco: Cultural Heritage Imaging. Retrieved 8 April 2014 from http://CulturalHeritageImag ing.org/downloads/. Deetz, J. F., and E. Dethlefsen. 1965. “The Doppler Effect and Archaeology: A Consideration of the Spatial Aspects of Seriation.” Southwest Journal of Anthropology 21(3): 196–206.

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———. 1967. “Death’s Head, Cherub, Urn and Willow.” Natural History 76(3): 29–37. Deetz, J. F., and E. Dethlefsen. 1971. “Some Social Aspects of New England Colonial Mortuary Art.” Memoirs of the Society for American Archaeology 25: 30–38. Dethlefsen, E., and J. F. Deetz. 1966. “Death’s Heads, Cherubs and Willow Trees: Experimental Archaeology in Colonial Cemeteries.” American Antiquity 31(4): 502–510. ———. 1967. “Eighteenth Century Cemeteries: A Demographic View.” Historical Archaeology 1: 40–42. Duffy, S. M. 2013. Multi-Light Imaging for Heritage Applications. London: English Heritage. Retrieved 8 April 2021 from https://www.historicengland.org.uk/ images-books/publications/multi-light-imaging-heritage-applications/. Forbes, H. M. 1927. Gravestones of Early New England, and the Men Who Made Them, 1653–1800. New York: Da Capo Press. Gabov, A., and B. Bevan. 2011. “Recording the Weathering of Outdoor Stone Monuments Using Reflectance Transformation Imaging (RTI): The Case of the Guild of All Arts (Scarborough, Ontario).” Journal of the Canadian Association for Conservation 36: 2–14. Greaves, A. M., S. Duffy, J. R. Peterson, Ş. R. Tekoğlu, and A. Hirt. 2020. “Carved in Stone: Field Trials of Virtual Reflectance Transformation Imaging (V-RTI) in Classical Telmessos (Fethiye).” Journal of Field Archaeology 45(7): 542–555. Heizer, M. 2017. “Digital Documentation of Monuments. RTI and Photogrammetry in Emanu-El Cemetery, Victoria BC.” Retrieved 31 March 2021 from http://dspace.library.uvic.ca/handle/1828/7903. Herbert, A. 1944. “Swithland Slate Headstones.” Transactions of the Leicestershire Archaeological Society 22(3): 215–240. Jones, J. 1976. How to Record Graveyards. London: Rescue, Trust for British Archaeology and the Council for British Archaeology. Reprinted 1979, 1984. Kinsman, T. 2016. “An Easy to Build Reflectance Transformation Imaging (RTI) System.” Journal of Biocommunication 40(1): 10–14. Longfield, A. K. 1943. “Some 18th Century Irish Tombstones. I. Introduction and Dennis Cullen of Monaseed.” Journal of the Royal Society of Antiquaries of Ireland 73: 29–39. ———. 1944. “Some 18th Century Irish Tomb-Stones. II. Miles Brien.” Journal of the Royal Society of Antiquaries of Ireland 74: 63–72. ———. 1947. “Some Late 18th and early 19th Century Irish Tombstones. V. Subjects not related to the Crucifixion. Saints and Scenes by Kehoe, at St Mullins, and by an unknown carver, at Termonfeckin.” Journal of the Royal Society of Antiquaries of Ireland 77: 1–4. Ludwig, A. I. 1966. Graven Images, New England Stonecarving and Its Symbols, 1650–1815. Middletown, CT: Wesleyan University Press. Malzbender, T., D. Gelb, and H. Wolters. 2001. “Polynomial Texture Maps.” SIGGRAPH ‘01: Proceedings of the 28th Annual Conference on Computer Graphics and Interactive Techniques. New York, 519–528. McGuigan, M., and J. Christmas. 2020. “Automating RTI: Automatic Light Direction Detection and Correcting Non-Uniform Lighting for More Accurate Surface Normals.” Computer Vision and Image Understanding 192: 102880. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.cviu.2019.102880

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Mudge, M., C. Schroer, T. Noble, N. Matthews, S. Rusinkiewicz, and C. TolerFranklin. 2012. “Robust and Scientifically Reliable Rock Art Documentation from Digital Photographs.” In A Companion to Rock Art, ed. J. McDonald and P. Veth, 644–659. Chichester, UK: Wiley. Mudge, M., J-P. Voutaz, C. Schroer, and M. Lum. 2005. “Reflection Transformation Imaging and Virtual Representations of Coins from the Hospice of the Grand St. Bernard.” In VAST 2005: 6th International Symposium on Virtual Reality, Archaeology and Intelligent Cultural Heritage, ed. M. Mudge, N. S. Ryan, and R. Scopigno, 29–40. Aire-la-Ville: Eurographics Association. Mytum, H. 2000. Recording and Analysing Graveyards. Council for British Archaeology Handbook 15. York: Council for British Archaeology. ———. 2004. “Local Traditions in Early Eighteenth-Century Commemoration: the Headstone Memorials from Balrothery, Co. Dublin and Their Place in the Evolution of Irish and British Commemorative Practice.” Proceedings of the Royal Irish Academy 104C: 1–35. ———. 2015. “Christmas in the Graveyard? Nativity scenes on County Louth headstones.” Archaeology Ireland 29(4): 26–29. ———. 2018. “Nativity Scenes on Gravestones in County Louth, Ireland.” Church Monuments 32: 121–151. ———. 2019. “Recording and Analysing Burial Grounds Advice Documentation, Sections Carrying out a Project, Recording, Identifying Monument Types, Photography and Additional Recording, Making a Plan.” Retrieved 8 April 2019 from http://www.debs.ac.uk/. Mytum, H., E. Campbell, and J. R. Peterson. 2019. “Flashing Lights in the Graveyard.” Archaeology Ireland 33(4): 45–48. Mytum, H., K. Chapman, J. R. Peterson, and A. Cross. 2017. “Reflectance Transformation Imaging (RTI): Capturing Gravestone Detail via Multiple Digital Images.” Association for Gravestone Studies Quarterly 41(2): 3–10. University of Liverpool Repository. Retrieved 8 April from https://livrepository.liverpool .ac.uk/3009787/. Mytum, H., and J. R. Peterson. 2018. “The Application of Reflectance Transformation Imaging (RTI) in Historical Archaeology.” Historical Archaeology 52(2): 489–503. https://doi:10.1007/s41636–018–0107-x. Pawlowicz, L. 2015. “Creating a Portable Dome-RTI system for Imaging Lithics.” Retrieved 8 April 2015 from https://culturalheritageimaging.wordpress. com/2015/05/26/creating-a-portable-dome-rti-system-for-imaging-lithics/. Piquette, K. E. 2011. “Reflectance Transformation Imaging (RTI) and Ancient Egyptian Material Culture.” Damqatum–The CEHAO Newsletter 7. Sammons, J. F. D. 2018. “Application of Reflectance Transformation Imaging (RTI) to the study of ancient graffiti from Herculaneum, Italy.” Journal of Archaeological Science: Reports 17: 184–194. Smith, N., N. Scholma-Mason, J. D. Richards, and G. Beale. 2018. “Maeshowe: The Application of RTI to Norse Runes.” Electronic resource within the Archaeology Data Service (ADS). Retrieved 6 April 2018 from https://archae ologydataservice.ac.uk/archives/view/maeshowe_2018/downloads.cfm?obj= rti&obj_id=1675517. Tarlow, S. 1999. Bereavement and Commemoration. An Archaeology of Mortality. Oxford: Blackwell.

CHAPTER 2

Uncovering History at Washington Monumental Cemetery Ground-Penetrating Radar and Victims of the 1918 Influenza Pandemic Mark Nonestied

Introduction For many decades, the residents of South River, New Jersey, passed down stories about a small plot of land in the southeast corner of the Washington Monumental Cemetery that was reputed to contain victims of the 1918 influenza pandemic. In October 2018, during the anniversary of the Influenza Pandemic, the Middlesex County Office of Arts and History in partnership with the South River Historical and Preservation Society and the Washington Monumental Cemetery Association, with funding from the New Jersey Historical Commission, decided to put the story to a test and commissioned a ground-penetrating radar survey. The results were stunning—hundreds of unmarked graves were revealed representing individuals buried in several rows. The discovery led to extensive news coverage in the New York and New Jersey media market and led to questions about who these people were and whether they had all died during the pandemic. This paper is a case study of how oral history and the historical record layered with ground-penetrating radar helped reveal the story of people who today lie in unmarked graves in a corner of Washington Monumental Cemetery. It will explore the history of the cemetery, the use of groundpenetrating radar, the impact of the 1918 Influenza Pandemic on local communities, the historical records, and oral history traditions, and will conclude with thoughts about who is represented in those unmarked graves. It is also a reminder for those who study grave markers that the above-ground forms of commemoration can be a stark contrast to the

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story below ground. Researchers often see this divergence in large cemeteries where sections were reserved for people of lesser financial means or those who died from epidemics or were buried there by institutions.

Washington Monumental Cemetery Washington Monumental Cemetery is located in South River, Middlesex County, New Jersey. The burial ground was incorporated in 1856 and its design reflected the emerging styles of the Rural Cemetery Movement. It was laid out on high ground with views of the surrounding area and it quickly became the fashionable burial place for the region (Figure 2.1). Those with financial means purchased family lots at the highest points and erected upscale monuments and markers. Those of lesser means were buried in the lower portions under modest memorials. The southeast corner of the cemetery is located on the declivity of a hill, and it is this section that stories of the 1918 Influenza Pandemic swirled around. The area is roughly 0.45 acres/0.18 hectares and is largely devoid of markers (Figure 2.2). Although a later secondary source makes mention of possible early nineteenth century use by the Whitehead family, the earliest surviving marker in this section is dated 1883 (South River Historical and Preservation Society 1995:75). That simple marble tablet is for John Della Torre, who was born in Charleston, South Caro-

Figure 2.1. View of Washington Monumental Cemetery with the Borough of South River in the background. © Mark Nonestied.

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Figure 2.2. Views of the southeast corner of Washington Monumental Cemetery. © Mark Nonestied.

lina, and “died at South River N.J.” The monument is inscribed “To the memory of our old sailor friend.” The other markers are from the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries and reflect the cultural background of newly arrived Eastern European immigrants. Several are in the Russian and Hungarian languages, while others are homemade and cast in concrete. A historic photograph taken on 13 October 1898 by Richard Van Dyke Reid shows this lower portion of the cemetery (Figure 2.3). It appears to capture the earliest development with emerging rows of crosses

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Figure 2.3. Photograph taken by Richard Van Dyke Reid, 13 October 1898, “from hill, south part of cemetery, eastward.” The image captures the earliest development of the southeast corner. Image courtesy of the South River Historical and Preservation Society, Inc.

in the background. Beyond those crosses, the area looks as though it might be undeveloped and overgrown, although surviving markers that predate the photograph lend evidence that burials existed there as well. Aerial photographs dating back to the 1930s also show this section. A 1930 aerial of the southeast corner is noted as darker and may have had thicker vegetation than other sections of the cemetery. Later views show a well-defined, cleared section in contrast to other areas of the cemetery where family plots with groupings of monuments and markers are apparent (Middlesex County GIS Open Data Portal). Unfortunately, historic records for the cemetery do not exist, having been lost many decades ago. A survey map of the cemetery dated 1971 does survive and shows family lots neatly laid out (Map of Washington

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Monumental Cemetery 1971). The southeast corner is also noted as one large section with no indication of individual family plots. In the early 1990s, members of the South River Historical and Preservation Society, under the leadership of Ken Roginski, began a catalog of the markers in the oldest section of the cemetery. It was completed in 2005 and then expanded by Stephanie Bartz in 2012 (South River Historical and Preservation Society 2012). This information has been crucial in providing a record of surviving markers in the burial ground and tying that information to biographical sketches on some of those individuals. Stories passed along through oral tradition reported that this section of the cemetery was the site of a mass grave relating to the 1918 pandemic. These accounts led to the ground-penetrating radar survey. I recall hearing these stories from members of the historical society in the 1990s, and in 1995, a commemorative book in celebration of the borough’s 275th anniversary noted that the southeast corner of the cemetery contained many people who died during the influenza pandemic buried in a “common grave-pit” (South River Historical and Preservation Society 1995: 75). Publicity around the radar survey resulted in area residents reaching out to the research team to share additional stories, some of which stretched back decades. Barbara D’Averso visited the cemetery twenty years ago with her maternal grandmother and great-aunt who showed her where the “mass grave” was. They had lost their brother Alex Varga in the pandemic, and her great-aunt rode in a wagon to the cemetery and witnessed the burial. Her great-aunt added that so many people died in the area that, with the fear of contagion, many were buried quickly and without funeral rites (D’Averso, personal communication, 2019).

Ground-Penetrating Radar Survey Dr. Timothy Horsley of Horsley Archaeological Prospection, LLC of Illinois was contracted to conduct the ground-penetrating radar survey of the southeast corner. It was proposed that the survey also include several nearby family plots from the early twentieth century to help provide a baseline for data comparison of the open space. The GPR survey was undertaken using a GSSI Utility Scan system with 350MHz antenna. Radar traces were recorded at intervals of 0.02m (c.0.8”) along traverses spaced 0.25m (c.10”) apart. Over the last decade, the methodology developed has been successfully employed by Dr. Horsley to locate and map both marked and unmarked burials in cemeteries throughout the Mid-Atlantic states and beyond. The work was conducted over several days in October 2018. The data gathered were used to create a simplified interpretation map with prob-

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able burials noted in black and possible burials noted in gray. They appear as closely spaced rows to the south of the family plots (Figure 2.4). From plots 6 in ranges 7 and 8 on the 1971 cemetery map of Washington Monumental Cemetery and commencing in a southeast direction, the

Figure 2.4. Washington Monumental Cemetery, South River, NJ, 5 October 2018. Simplified interpretation of all probable (black) and possible (gray) burials. The family lots can be seen at the top of the map in comparison to those below in the void. The circular dots indicate grave markers. Image courtesy Horsley Archaeological Prospection, LLC.

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data suggest a total of 251 probable and 124 possible burials (Interpretation Map, Horsley 2018). The distinction between probable and possible burials was determined by interpretation of the strength or weakness of the signatures from the ground-penetrating radar unit. Though this oral history told of a common mass grave, the results showed that individuals were buried in single plots, although the spacing on many of the burials are tight. The graves thin out near the east along the cemetery border. Several graves continued to the edge of our scope of work and may continue outside the boundary, leaving open the possibility that other burials exist at the extreme outer edge of the cemetery. The discovery led to extensive news coverage in the New York-New Jersey region, adding to the oral tradition and opening additional access to historical records. The additional data provided some answers, but also left lingering questions about these individuals. Who were they, and did they all perish from 1918 pandemic?

1918 Influenza Pandemic For purposes of this paper, it is important to look at the pandemic through a local lens and consider its impact on the communities of Middlesex County. This impact was exacerbated by an increase in war production, which created a transient population of war workers that flooded into communities. As the pandemic spread, newspapers ran headlines on the “Grim Death Toll of Pneumonia,” the most common cause of death from contracting the influenza virus (The Daily Home News [TDHN], 7 October 1918: 1). Soon, communities were placed under quarantine to try and stop the spread. The explosion of the Gillespie Shell Loading Company, a large World War I munitions factory in the Morgan section of Sayreville, compounded the influenza problem. The explosion took place in early October, sending refugees escaping the destruction into nearby towns and emergency shelters. In one example, the Simoneit family came to stay with an aunt in South River after their South Amboy house was destroyed. Soon after, Ernest C. Simoneit, the sixteen-year-old son of Mr. and Mrs. Fred Simoneit died of pneumonia (TDHN, 11 October 1918: 1). In addition, a workforce was established to provide relief to those displaced and to clean up and rebuild the factory and local communities. This effort also created additional movement of people into the area. One gentleman involved in local aid who was fearful of his own safety noted the relief work of heroic women who were “working here, there and everywhere, giving absolutely no thought to their personal safety or com-

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fort.” He went on to say that “all fear went out of my heart” (TDHN, 11 October 1918: 4). In nearby New Brunswick, the dead began to pile up, with the local newspaper reporting “all the vaults of the city cemeteries are piled high with coffins of the unburied dead, the number of grave diggers being inadequate to prepare the graves” (TDHN, 11 October 1918: 1). In response, fifteen prisoners from the county workhouse volunteered to help and did so by digging graves at St. Peters Cemetery in New Brunswick and Elmwood Cemetery in North Brunswick (TDHN, 16 October 1918: 1). South River was also impacted by the influenza pandemic. The area was settled in the eighteenth century and incorporated as a borough in 1898. Continued growth in the late nineteenth century led to the development of direct rail and river transport areas, banks, a commercial district, public schools, churches as well as social and fraternal organizations. In 1918, the Industrial Directory of New Jersey lists the population at 7,650, which consisted of 750 people of Polish descent, 500 Hungarians, 500 Russians, 200 Italians, 10 Lithuanians, and 250 Austrians (Industrial Directory of New Jersey 1918:567). Industry also changed the landscape in South River and developed the community into a blue-collar, working-class town, with a labor force composed of European and Eastern European immigrants. The primary industries at the time included ceramic and textile factories. The latter helped to develop a piecework system that contributed to the spread of the pandemic, as families and workers crowded into housing to produce textiles that were finished off by the factories. One of the largest employers was the Herrmann, Aukam & Co. factory, a manufacturer of embroidered works, handkerchiefs, and other textiles that contributed to the home-work system (“Shot Down Like Dogs” n.d.). The Daily Home News for 31 October 1918 also spoke to these conditions, explaining that “one of the things that the epidemic has proven to the Board of Health is that many of the home and tenement houses in South River are overcrowded.” It further noted that in the “foreign districts” as “many as ten people were sleeping with windows closed in one or two small room.” The article further mentioned that “very few removed the clothing they wore during the day and a night shirt and a suit of pajamas were rare articles” (TDHN, 31 October 1918). South River was heavily impacted during the pandemic with the working-class population living in crowded conditions contributing to the spread of the disease. On 4 October 1918 The Daily Home News reported that South River schools closed after “the attendance during the last week was reduced 50 per cent” (8). On 14 October 1918, the Board of Health in South River, after canvasing the neighborhoods, reported 642 cases

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and that entire families were ill (TDHN, 4). Other accounts published in local newspapers provided higher numbers, estimating as many as “2,000 cases of influenza in South River” (The New Brunswick Sunday Times, 13 October 1918: 5). An image taken in South River shows a wagon with a coffin transporting a victim of the influenza pandemic to the cemetery. The caption on the back notes that a “shortage of hearses pressed a beer wagon into service” and that “the demand for caskets kept carpenters busy 24 hours a day.” The situation grew so dire that, in October 1918, the Eastern Division of the Red Cross set up an emergency hospital in a vacant embroidery factory in the town. The hospital was set up within a few hours and contained wards for men, women, and children. The Red Cross headquarters in New York immediately sent supplies, including five hundred cots, mattresses, pillows, sheets, blankets, pajamas, slippers, bandages, gauze, and all necessary medical supplies (Selover 1963:203). They also established telephone connections so that additional orders of supplies could be quickly filled. The hospital operated around the clock and in three shifts staffed by volunteer nurses and aides taking in patients from nearby South River, Sayreville, Parlin, East Brunswick, and Old Bridge. By the third week of its opening, the hospital had six hundred occupied cots and eventually treated over eight hundred patients (Selover 1963: 203). South River was also the home of Dr. Sarah Evans Selover, the celebrated “lady doctor” who treated over 450 patients during the pandemic, working long hours checking in on the area population. She would travel from early morning to late at night to the surrounding towns making house calls and arrangements to transport the seriously ill to the hospital with little consideration to her own health and stamina. A bank officer quoted regarding her work stated that “she doesn’t know what fear is” (The Sunday Times, 20 October 1918: 9–10). Dr. Selover became a leading citizen and suffragette. She died in 1932, and for her funeral the town ordered flags flown at half-mast as 50 percent of the population came out to view her casket (Armstrong 2012 no. 65: 4).

Historic Records Some of the most revealing information on the pandemic were the registrar records kept by the Borough of South River. I examined these records in January 2019. The height of the pandemic was October of 1918, and to set some data points recorded deaths were checked for the month of October from 1913 to 1921. With the exception of 1918, the pandemic

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year, the average number of recorded deaths in South River for October was around nine. In contrast, in October 1918, there were sixty-eight recorded deaths. Those likely attributed to the pandemic are around sixty, as fifty-five are listed as dying from pneumonia and five are listed as dying from influenza. The disproportionate number of pneumonia deaths compared to other years is staggering and would indicate that they are directly related to the pandemic. The records indicate that the height of the pandemic was midOctober, with a seven day stretch from 13 October to 21 October having thirty-six recorded deaths with a peak of seven deaths taking place on October 19. The numbers begin to trail off by the end of the month. The records do not indicate the birthplace of the deceased but do note the birthplace of the father and mother, providing important cultural background information. The cultural group with the highest number of total deaths, twenty-seven, was Russian, followed by those whose parents were from Austria with around ten and Poland, eight. Other cultural groups noted were parents from Germany, Hungary, Italy, Ireland, “Rus Poland,” and the United States—which accounted for seven of the total number (Borough of South River, N.J. Records of Births, Deaths and Marriages). The registrar documents provide important information but may have some inconsistencies in how deaths were recorded, especially those at the emergency hospital. The 17 October 1918 Daily Home News reported that Patrick Cramer and Charles Maxein had died at the hospital in South River (2). Those names, however, do not appear on the registrar records (Borough of South River, N.J. Records of Births, Deaths and Marriages 1918). To compound the issue, the total number of deaths noted at the hospital vary. Historian Jessie Selover notes that there were eight deaths (Selover 1963:204). In contrast, on 23 October 1918, The Daily Home News reported fourteen deaths at the hospital. In determining potential burials at Washington Monumental Cemetery, it should be noted that the burial ground serviced nearby communities as well. Those individuals, however, would not show up on the South River registrar records. A search was also conducted for the registrar records of the adjoining town of Sayreville. Registrar Linda Miick noted that their records start in November 1918. By comparison, in October 1919, Sayreville had nine deaths, roughly equivalent to South River during the same period. Sayreville’s records also note place of burial, and out of those nine, six were buried in South River (Linda Miick, personal communication, 2019). Some of the names provided by descendants during the research also do not show up in the registrar records. An exception is the relative of Barbara D’Averso, whose great-aunt rode in a wagon and witnessed the

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burial of her brother Alex Varga. An Alex Warga, aged one year and two months, is listed in the registrar records having died from pneumonia on 23 October 1918 (Borough of South River, N.J. Records of Births, Deaths and Marriages 1918).

Conclusion The newspapers accounts, town histories, oral traditions, and the work of the South River Historical and Preservation Society all portray a community impacted by the influenza pandemic, a scenario compounded by refugees from the Morgan Explosion, crowded housing fostered by a piecework system in the textile industry as well as a transient population of war workers. The registrar’s records indicate that Eastern European and European immigrants overwhelmingly bore the brunt of the pandemic. Many of those who died no doubt ended up in the southeast corner of Washington Monumental Cemetery in a section that had been used for burials for newly arrived immigrant groups since the late nineteenth century. Unfortunately determining which of the unmarked graves are pandemic victims is something we do not know. A similar project is a study of the County Poor Farm Burial site in Schuylkill Haven, Pennsylvania, which also was reputed to contain victims of the 1918 influenza pandemic. When a road project unearthed human remains, the Pennsylvania Highway Archaeological Survey Team conducted a GPR survey. The survey discovered other clusters of burials but could not pinpoint exactly which ones were from the pandemic (Mock et al. 2015). The lack of markers in the southeast corner of Washington Monumental Cemetery is also intriguing and is paralleled in other nearby cemeteries that have sections lacking markers. Alpine Cemetery in Perth Amboy, St. Mary’s Cemetery in Perth Amboy, Hillside Cemetery in South Plainfield, and Elmwood Cemetery in North Brunswick all have sections employed by immigrant populations. At Washington Monumental Cemetery, the number of unmarked graves in relation to surviving gravemarkers is astounding. Certainly, some could have deteriorated or been removed, but only seventeen markers survive in the immediate project area. Except for one marker from 1957, the latest stone is from 1915 with the others dating from the late nineteenth and early twentieth century. The homemade concrete memorials could date from the pandemic, but none of the writing was legible, leaving questions as to how this section evolved. Is the lack of markers attributable to hastily buried pandemic victims? Perhaps in a section that

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had been in use prior to 1918, the burial of pandemic victims impacted and prevented further development. It is also possible that some of the weaker signatures defined as probable burials on the interpretation map are in fact empty, having been dug by work crews in anticipation of burials and thus did not need markers. Some of these answers may be elusive, but what is clear is that this section of Washington Monumental Cemetery is the story of an immigrant population. A population that came to this country with their own set of cultural values that would be reflected in the landscape and the burial ground (Figure 2.5). They had a mixed relationship with the established residents of South River as they provided much-needed labor for the local industries; at the same time, they did not hesitate to protest over unfair working conditions and wages. The year before the 1918 pandemic, the population was involved in a series of strikes in which two workers from South River were killed (TDHN, 11 June 1917: 1). One newspaper noted that the factory guards “shoot men down like dogs.” (The New York Call, 12 June 1917: 1). This immigrant population with ties to Europe and Eastern Europe bore the brunt of the 1918 influenza pandemic. Some would end up in Washington Monumental Cemetery, and today they lie unmarked in a section of the cemetery whose above-ground forms of commemoration does not give a whole view of what lies buried beneath. Thanks to modern archaeological techniques, most notably ground-penetrating radar, local folklore about forgotten graves, possibly associated with the 1918 influenza pandemic has been confirmed.

Figure 2.5. The domes of Saints Peter and Paul Orthodox Church, South River, and a detail of the Wisotzky marker in the southeast corner of Washington Monumental Cemetery. © Mark Nonestied.

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Acknowledgments I would like to thank the South River Historical and Preservation Society, including Brian Armstrong, Stephanie Bartz, Ken Roginski, Ann and Robert C. Rafano, as well as the Washington Monumental Cemetery for providing access for the research work. The Borough of South River provided support and access to important historical documents. Linda Miick aided in the examination of registrar records for the adjoining town of Sayreville. Doug Aumack of Middlesex County Division of Historic Sites and History Services helped with logistics and background research. Michael Gall and Richard Veit provided valuable advice and support. Finally, I wish to express my gratitude to the Middlesex County Board of County Commissioners; this project would not have taken place without their support and funding.

Mark Nonestied is the Middlesex County Historian and has been a staff member of the County since 1991. He has coauthored and authored several articles about Middlesex County and New Jersey History. He has received awards from the Archaeological Society of New Jersey and the New Jersey Historical Commission. He is also the coauthor, along with Richard Veit, of New Jersey Cemeteries and Tombstones: History in the Landscape, published in 2008, by Rutgers University Press.

References Armstrong, B. 2012. “Dr. Sarah Evans Selover, the Lady Doctor.” South River Historical and Preservation News 65, 4. Borough of South River, NJ. 1913–1922. Borough of South River, N.J. Records of Births, Deaths and Marriages. Book No. 2 January 1913 to October 1922. The Daily Home News. 1917. “Guards Kill 2 Strikers in South River Riot.” 1 June, 1. ———. 1918. “South River Schools Closed.” 4 October, 8. ———. 1918. “Grim Death Toll of Pneumonia.” 7 October, 1. ———. 1918. “Ernest C. Simoneit Dies at South River.” 11 October, 1. ———. 1918. “Not Enough Grave Diggers in City.” 11 October, 1. ———. 1918. “The Work of Relief.” 11 October, 4. ———. 1918. “South River News and Advertisements,” 14 October, 4. ———. 1918. “Workhouse Inmates Answer Call for Grave Diggers.” 16 October, 1. ———. 1918. “South River News and Advertisements.” 17 October, 2. ———. 1918. “South River News and Advertisements.” 23 October, 8. ———. 1918. “Borough Topics.” 31 October, 10. Horsley, T. 2018. Simplified Interpretation Map of all probable (black) and possible (gray) burials. Washington Monumental Cemetery, South River, NJ. 5 October 2018.

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The Industrial Directory of New Jersey. 1918. The Industrial Directory of New Jersey. Paterson, NJ: News Printing Co. Map of Washington Monumental Cemetery. 1971. Map of Washington Monumental Cemetery, surveyed by Earl B. Van Ness, 3 June 1971. Middlesex County GIS Open Data Portal. ND. “Aerials of Middlesex County.” Retrieved 17 March 2021 from https://middlesex-county-gis-open-data-portalmiddlesexcounty.hub.arcgis.com/app/5a374ae064db4eaa9caf5b791fa8b758. Mock, K., W. Chadwick, H. Harvey, E. Masters, and K. Peresolak. 2015. PennDOT Highway Archaeological Survey Team (PHAST) S.R. 0061 Section 16S, S.R. 61 Safety Improvement, Schuylkill Haven Borough/North Manheim Township Ground Penetrating Radar Survey, Schuylkill County. The New Brunswick Sunday Times. 1918. “South River Board of Health Opens Emergency Hospital.” 13 October, 5. The New York Call. 1917. “Scabs Kill 2 Strikers.” 12 June, 1. South River Historical and Preservation Society. 1995. Commemorative Book in Celebration of South River 275th Anniversary 1720–1995. South River, New Jersey: South River Historical and Preservation Society. ———. 2012. Catalog of Washington Monumental Cemetery. South River, NJ: South River Historical and Preservation Society. Selover, J., and J. I. Selover. 1963. History of South River, New Jersey. South River, NJ. “Shot Down Like Dogs—Labor History of South River, NJ.” N.d. Retrieved 20 March 2021 from https://sites.google.com/site/shotdownlikedogs/home/ herrmann-aukam. The Sunday Times. 1918. “South River’s ‘Lady Doctor,’ Sarah E. Selover.” 20 October, 9–10, New Brunswick, NJ.

Chapter 3

Is There Anyone out There? Survey and Research Techniques for CRM Projects When Burial Grounds and Cemeteries Border Construction Projects Bob Dean and Mickey Dobbin Introduction As a common cultural resource management project, roadside archaeological surveys often encounter cemeteries, which pose a unique set of challenges for both cultural resource management (CRM) and the construction projects for which they are being conducted. In most cases when sensitive cultural resources are identified and mapped during the CRM surveys, ultimately the best course of action is to avoid these types of resources. However, the potential for the presence of unmarked burials just outside cemeteries, even those with well-defined boundaries, is a concern. These circumstances are especially troubling if there is a possibility of an adjacent potter’s fields or incomplete reinterments that left individual burials in place (Ewing et al. 2007; Willis 2018; Fletcher 2019). Unmarked burials can always exist outside of the established limits of the cemetery, particularly older ones. Due to this concern, a more intense survey of potential areas of impaction from road improvements or other infrastructure and capital projects in areas directly bordering cemeteries must be taken into consideration. To address sensitive cultural resource surveys of this type, a method that incorporates a variety of techniques into a holistic approach poses the best strategy. Traditional Phase I survey methods, such as shovel test pits or pedestrian walkovers, may miss evidence of unknown burials, so combining them with other methods such as geophysical surveys and ground truthing (archaeological excavation), thorough pedestrian survey of cemeteries, and extensive historical research may be necessary to make

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a more definitive assessment of the potential for encountering unmarked burials within the area of impact. Ground-penetrating radar has become increasingly common in archaeological fieldwork. Its use in the study of the archaeological record, particularly the detection of burials, is popular because of its reliability and ability to test large swaths in a timely manner with minimal disturbances or impact on buried archaeological resources, such as burials (Bigman 2015). Regional soil types and disturbances must be taken into consideration when making the choice to use groundpenetrating radar (GPR); though the potential to remotely detect internments outweighs some of these obstacles. In addition to this type of geophysical survey, magnetometers and electrical resistivity are useful alternatives depending on soil and other ground conditions (Gaffney 2008; Ernenwein and Hargrave 2009). The use of historic sources, ranging from early maps, primary histories, and sexton records, along with current web-based studies by genealogy groups, are common methods in cemetery studies and mortuary archaeology that could also be applied in CRM surveys that border cemeteries. Additionally, when examined alongside the historic and genealogical data, pedestrian surveys that document the landscape and all mortuary monuments will lead to a better understanding of the development and use of cemeteries. The use of these mortuary analysis methods can prove crucial in solidifying the boundaries and relevant historic trends of cemeteries. This chapter examines a specific case of applying these methods, strategies, and techniques during a cultural resource survey for a road construction project that bordered on a historic cemetery in rural upstate New York.

Phase I Survey and the Elbridge Rural Cemetery In 2016, the New York State Museum’s Cultural Resource Survey Program (CRSP) was tasked with conducting a Phase I Archaeological and Architectural survey ahead of a road improvement project planned by New York State Department of Transportation (NYSDOT). This chapter’s authors led the archaeological survey and wrote its technical report. This project was conducted primarily for widening and safety improvements of New York State Route 5 (NY 5), which also serves as Main Street, within the Town and Village of Elbridge in Onondaga County, New York (Figure 3.1). The Village of Elbridge was developed along the route of the Great Genesee Road, completed during the first decade of the nineteenth century. The roadway provided a transportation route for early westward migration in New York State in the decades following the American Revolution. The village is located just east of Skaneatles Creek, which sup-

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Figure 3.1.  Location of Elbridge in central New York. Map created by Bob Dean and Mickey Dobbin.

ported milling and agriculture, furthering early development of the area. The Erie Canal, completed in 1825, passed through the neighboring village of Jordan and provided market opportunities for local industries and agricultural activity. Today, Elbridge is mainly a bedroom community for Syracuse New York, just about thirty miles east (Schwartz et al. 1999). Following the standards and guidelines set forth by various organizations and agencies in New York for CRM projects, specifically CRM projects for Department of Transportation projects, the archaeological survey was conducted by excavating shovel test pits (STPs) placed at a systematic interval to test for cultural materials in areas that will be potentially disturbed by road construction. In the area of the cemetery, STPs were spaced on a grid of 15 m (50 ft) (New York Education Department 2004). The architectural survey was also conducted, assessing standing structures, monuments, and associated landscapes that were found within or directly bordering the project area for National Registered eligibility (Schmitt 2017). The Phase I survey extended equally north and south off the road by approximately 9 m (29.5 ft), except in front of Elbridge Rural Cemetery (ERC). The NYSDOT designed the project to avoid the established cem-

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etery grounds by extending the area of potential effect (APE) only 4 m (12 ft) south of the road edge, stopping in front of the property’s decorative wrought-iron fence. According to the town’s tax map, the location of the iron fence matched the current northern boundary for ERC. A small strip of grass between the fence and road is part of the highway right of way. During the initial Phase I survey, ten STPs were placed on a 15meter grid in the area between the cemetery and Route 5, which resulted in the absence of significant deposit of cultural materials (Dean and Dobbin 2017). Because ERC directly bordered the project boundaries, it was included as part of the initial Phase I architectural survey. An architectural historian with CRSP assessed Elbridge Rural Cemetery as a whole and recommended the property as National Registered–eligible under criteria A, stating that it “Represents the historic development of the Village and Town of Elbridge, from early settlement in the late eighteenth century, to continued settlement in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, and into the twenty-first century” (Schmitt 2017). The first interment in what is now ERC occurred as early as 1800, while sources indicate that the cemetery itself was officially established in 1810, several decades before the Town of Elbridge was formed. ERC is one of the earliest cemeteries in Onondaga County, though within the Town of Elbridge along NY 5 is Mount Pleasant Cemetery, which is somewhat older, based on the presence of a burial dating to 1795. From its earliest interments in the late eighteenth century, ERC was likely operating as a private burying ground; then, around 1810, the Town of Elbridge began operating the cemetery as a public entity. Public management may have begun as Revolutionary War veterans began to die of natural causes. The cemetery ending up being the resting place of an estimated twenty-two veterans of the American Revolution (Beauchamp 1913). ERC was incorporated on 27 April 1847, a year prior to when the Village of Elbridge was incorporated. At this time, the cemetery adopted the style of a rural cemetery that incorporated landscaping elements within a gridwork of roads and paths. The cemetery’s park-like setting is reflected in the use of landscaping features such as trees and elaborate statuary elements. The entire cemetery consists of 4.58 acres. A smaller section in the rear portion of the cemetery was deeded in 1889 to “even out” the total parcel (Schwartz et al. 2003). The Town of Elbridge maintained control of a small portion of the cemetery, titled “Public Cemetery Belonging to the Town” (Figure 3.2). The section run by the town lies in the northeastern part of the cemetery and contains some of the earliest graves, dating back to 1800 (Figure 3.3). The public cemetery was also used in part as a “potter’s field” (Roland D. Gassler, Treasurer of Elbridge Rural Cemetery Association, personal communication, 5, January 2018). “Traditionally

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Figure 3.2.  Project map for Elbridge Rural Cemetery with 2009 orthoimagery of sexton’s map. © New York State Geographic Information System Clearinghouse (NYS GIS Clearinghouse).

a potter’s field was used to bury the homeless people, paupers, strangers, indigent people, stillborn babies, and unclaimed remains” (Dean et al. 2018). In the mid-nineteenth century, the organization that runs the cemetery, the Elbridge Rural Cemetery Association (ERCA), continued to develop the cemetery, excluding the portion designated as a public cemetery. Individual sections were surveyed and divided by dirt roadways throughout the property. The Town of Elbridge is currently responsible for the upkeep and maintenance of the public section of the cemetery and has not sold many grave plots in this section since the time that ERC was incorporated (c.1850). According to the Town of Elbridge historian, records for this section may not be wholly accurate, as an unmarked interment was hit by workers excavating for a recent burial in the public section (Jack Horner, personal communication, 18 January 2018). ERCA has sold small family plots throughout the remaining portion of the cemetery. Whether ERC operated according to a set of rules and regulations prior to its incorporation (c.1800–1847) remains unknown. Even though ERC was a nondenominational cemetery, burials rites likely followed the

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Figure 3.3.  View from just north of the cast iron fence marking the northern boundary of Elbridge Rural Cemetery looking Southwest. © Bob Dean and Mickey Dobbin.

interment practices commonly used in Christian burials of the time: positioning the coffin or shroud-covered body into the grave, head pointing to the West and the feet to the East, and following the position of the sun on the eastern horizon. Grave goods were limited to a few personal items. In the nineteenth century, the grave shaft was dug by hand to dimensions slightly bigger than the coffin (Smoot 2002). Following the completion of the initial Phase I survey, concern was raised that unmarked human burials could be present in the APE, in the area directly north of the cemetery, and that the 15m (50ft) interval used in STP testing along the front edge of the cemetery was not thorough enough to clearly state that there was little to no possibly of interments outside of the fenced-in portion the cemetery. Further archaeological testing during an addendum survey was needed to be as certain as possible that no “human burials exist beyond the visible limits (fence and headstones) of The Elbridge Rural Cemetery” (Dean et al. 2018). Using a variety of methods from background research to field investigation, this addendum survey was conducted in the autumn of 2017, before the advancement of road construction for NY 5.

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Historic Research, Online Cemetery Resources and Pedestrian Survey An intensive above-ground pedestrian survey of the cemetery was one of the strategies used in the examination of ERC. The pedestrian survey and accompanying historic research served two primary purposes: to crosscheck monuments and gravestones in the cemetery with a compiled list of individuals interred there, and to observe and note the condition of the grounds, burial locations, monuments—their placement and burial practices—in order to examine and understand the history and cultural use of the cemetery, parsing out patterns and trends that can be compared and contrasted to historic trends, local history, maps, genealogy, and previous cemetery surveys, in order to determine ERC’s historic and modern boundaries. This effort afforded a better understanding of how the cemetery was developed and if any major realignments occurred, and could give some clues or insight as to whether any large number of interments were unaccounted for and missing. The northern boundary of the cemetery is partially enclosed by a decorative iron fence, located approximately 4 m (13 ft) from the road edge. Fence lines, trees, or other tangible markers are absent on the remaining sides of the cemetery but are lined by well-worn grass paths or lanes. Agricultural fields line the cemetery’s southern and eastern boundaries. The cemetery is without substantial boundaries particularly along its eastern, western, and southern sides. The northern boundary of the cemetery grounds and its relation to the position and width of the highway, was of utmost importance to the project. The northern boundary of the cemetery closely follows the historic boundaries of the Great Genesee Road, established in 1794, when New York State enacted a law to survey and build the Great Genesee Road to encourage westward immigration into the interior regions of the then frontier. The 1794 law also gives specifications for the road: And be it further enacted That the said road shall be laid out six rods wide, but it shall not be necessary for the said commissioners to open and improve the same above four rods wide in any place thereof. And the whole of the said road when laid out, shall be considered as a public highway and shall not be altered by the commissioners of any town or country [county?] through which the same shall run. (Laws of New York, 1794, Ch. XXIX [cited in Hulbert 1904: 102])

Historic map analysis showed that the alignment of present-day NY 5 on which ERC is located follows the same alignment as the Great Genesee Road in this portion of the Elbridge as it travels though the western portion of New York State (Dean and Dobbin 2017). Given that the highway’s dimensions were known and regulated by the state at the be-

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ginning of settlement in the village (c.1790), early interments were likely not placed inside of the right of way (ROW), even before the cemetery was officially established (c.1800). At the same time, interments were even more unlikely to be placed in the ROW after ERCA was formed and the fence was built. Most of the earliest interments were placed in the public portion of the cemetery in the northeast portion of the grounds during the early 1800s (Frederick Henry c.1800 and Moses Harmon c. 1804) with several other early interments placed in family plots even farther south of the fence. County histories, maps, and aerial photographs were used to confirm the location of the fence line throughout the twentieth century. Additional historic research, interviews with the directors of ERCA, and field study of the extant wrought-iron fence did not yield an exact date of construction, leaving this part of the puzzle still unknown. However, evidence points to a construction date between 1860 and 1870, many years after the first interments. Thus, the fence itself does not guarantee solid evidence in and of itself of burials within the area of potential disturbance, as the cemetery’s first-known interments precede the iron fence by several decades. During the walkover survey, the most significant differences in cemetery arrangement were observed when comparing the two sections of the cemetery. In the portion of the cemetery run by ERCA, monuments and headstones were most commonly placed within family plots with a central monument. Some of these family plots were enclosed by a gate, stone pillars, fence, walls, and cut stone curbing. Families had freedom to organize their burials within their plot. A characteristic of many of these family plots is a central monument with the names, dates of birth, death, and relationship in the family; header and sometimes footer stones for individuals were often found. These plots varied in how densely crowded they were arranged, unlike the pattern in the public portion of the cemetery. This section was not divided into family plots; rather, interments were set in rows, starting with the west end of this section and moving east as the section filled up. In a few exceptions, family members were placed together where room allowed. Headstones in the public cemetery appear older and more severely weathered compared to the portion run by the cemetery association, with many missing or arranged somewhat scattered in this area. The larger number of depressions, consistent with unmarked burials, could be attributed to early settlers not having easy access to cut stone, possibly using simple wooden monuments, inferior stone material, piles of field stones to mark graves, or simply not placing monuments to mark the deceased. Many of these conditions could have resulted in burials without stone monuments, or inferior ones that have been lost over many years of neglect and degradation.

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The pedestrian survey was conducted in a controlled manner, following forty-three transects that ran north to south. In total, 18,515 m2 (4.6 ac) of the current property of ERC were covered in a pedestrian survey, with crew members checking each monument stone against the compiled list of interments in the cemetery. The compiled list, created from a survey of the cemetery recorded in a book written by local noted historian William Beauchamp in the early twentieth century (Beauchamp, 1917), was compared to lists from 2002 created by the office of the town historian (Abel and Slater, 2002). Both resources were initially found on the online genealogical resource, Ancestory.com. The survey by Abel and Slater (2002) was organized by family plot with notes, a list of sources, and additional historical records. Of particular importance was the cemetery’s sexton records. A detailed map of the cemetery ground from a 1915 survey provided by ERCA was also used as a base map for the survey. When monument stones were observed in the field, they were checked off the compiled list and the transect they fell within were noted. In addition to absent and missing stone monuments, a significant number of stones showed signs of deterioration in the form of collapse, being worn, eroded, cracked, or fragmentated, affecting the condition of the inscriptions and making many of them unreadable. Some of the stones were photographed to document their condition and used to decipher unreadable stones later. Due to the sensitive nature of cemeteries all work within the cemetery during the pedestrian survey was limited to above-ground observations. Additionally, “gravestone rubbings” on unreadable stones was not conducted; where the stone had fallen or was face down or overgrown, they were not overturned or scraped off, and probing was not conducted within the cemetery grounds. The cemetery walkover easily identified the names of 997 of individuals from the compiled list of 1,252 names of persons interred in ERC—a total of 79.6 percent of the names, leaving 286 (22.84 percent) names from the compiled list that were either not present or indecipherable. Additionally, monuments of twelve individuals who did not appear on our list but died before it was compiled were noted during the walkover, in addition to several newer burials. Investigation of the list of interred persons continued following the initial walkover survey by systematically noting the names that were missing from the field notes through the use of online genealogical resources such as findagrave.com, and notes and photos taken during the walkover as well as historical sources that helped organize and remove names as possible missing internments. This phase of the process had decreasing certainty based on the available evidence. By examining photographs and notes from the pedestrian survey in further detail, finding duplicates and mistakes from the historic lists, and

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comparing photographic evidence of stone monuments with a name of missing individuals on online genealogical resources proved to be evidence enough that interments were not missing. In some cases, evidence of interment was less certain such, as was the case when historical records indicated that individuals were buried elsewhere, or the names of individuals were listed on the genealogical websites but without photographic evidence of a matching monument stone. Most of the 286 individual names not found in the initial walkover survey were accounted for through evidence both from reexamination of field observation and historical documentation and genealogical sources, suggesting with a limited degree of certainty that the individual was either interred within the present boundaries of ERC or was interred elsewhere. Based on evidence of a burial location elsewhere or the likelihood of the presence of duplicate names, an additional fifty-one names were removed from the compiled list. Notable cases of this scenario included evidence that revealed some individuals grouped with their families on the compiled list had died and were buried elsewhere, including veterans who were buried on Civil War battlefields; however, their names appeared on the central family monument in a family plot as a sort of cenotaph. These given names had been observed on the central family monument and included by those who had compiled the lists of persons interred in ERC. Another example was found after closely looking at the birth and death dates of several women who were not initially located and identified during the walkover. It became apparent that they shared given and middle names and birthdates with women with different family names who were identified during the walkover survey, and it was revealed that these individuals were also listed twice in the source lists, both under their maiden names and married names (Dean et al. 2018). This investigation and deduction of the complied list left fifty-seven names unaccounted for; thirty-three of those fifty-seven names are on findagrave.com as being located in ERC, but without corresponding photographs showing their marker in the cemetery, or notation as to why they were entered on the website in association with ERC (Figure 3.4). It seems plausible that they were entered into findagrave.com based on source lists also used by this survey (findagrave.com). These thirty-three names were identified and labeled as uncertain. In the end, a total of twenty-four names were not accounted for by the walkover or background research. Of those twenty-four names, twelve pre-date the 1915 date of the provided ERCA property survey from which the property map was made, and twelve post-date it. Overall, the trend for those unaccounted for were interred much later, with the earliest dating to 1811, only eight (33.3 percent) dating to the nineteenth century, and the remaining sixteen (66.7 percent) dating to the first half of the twentieth century. Over

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half the missing interments date to the early twentieth century, when the borders of ERC matched current cemetery boundaries when the iron fence was present. As such, the likelihood of those interments being outside the present cemetery boundaries is small. The trend of most of the missing interments having occurred during the early twentieth century suggest that either a certain cultural practice or historic occurrence during that time accounts for the absence of stone monuments. With the final number of interments unaccounted for being so low, and the year of death of these unaccounted interments trending toward later dates, there is evidence that no major abandonment, movement, realignment, or reinternment of ERC has likely occurred in its history. Only four interments are completely unaccounted for before 1847, when Elbridge Rural Cemetery was incorporated with its present boundaries consisting of 4.58 acres. While the possibility of unmarked burials lying beyond visible cemetery boundaries exists, the lower-intensity agricultural usage of the lands surrounding the cemetery and historic ROW along the north side of the cemetery would suggest that unmarked interments could be located to the east, south, or west, if present at all. Furthermore, the walkover survey encountered various depressions in the town portion of the cemetery, which are most likely burials that have either lost their headstone or never

Figure 3.4.  Graph showing the total percent of interments through Elbridge Rural Cemetery’s history based on its certainty of provenience within the grounds as well as total of all names in the compiled list. Note the percentage of interments not initially identified during walkover but identified with varying degrees of certainty with later research follow the same trend as interments overall, while interments never identified remain low in the nineteenth century and peak in the early twentieth century. Image created by Bob Dean and Mickey Dobbin.

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had one placed. Many of the missing names could in fact correspond to these unmarked burials. Comparing the walkover survey to historical sources demonstrates that a limited number of missing burials were associated with ERC. Some names are missing, and there may have been individuals whose names never made it onto official records and various compiled lists used in this survey. Additionally, some uncertainties remain about the historic boundaries of ERC, especially before the midnineteenth century; therefore, additional investigative techniques such as a geophysical survey and excavations proved to be vital components in the further investigation of finding possible burials in the area of interest.

Ground-Penetrating Radar Survey Following the pedestrian survey of the cemetery, the project area along the north side of the cemetery, adjacent to the highway was surveyed further. One of the vital components of this investigation was a geophysical survey. The cultural practices and methods of burials, including typical depth, provide a predictable pattern for archaeological and geophysical surveys of cemeteries and smaller burial grounds. In addition, a geophysical survey can easily and efficiently cover the whole project area. GPR was used as the geophysical survey method for this project because it was considered the best method to identify any subsurface features in the project area that could potentially indicate unmarked burials between the fence line and the road. GPR works by sending out electromagnetic radar pulses along the ground surface, with a receiving antenna that receives return signals. The time and strength of the returned signals are processed and recorded, creating profiles of the underlying stratigraphy (Conyers 2013:12–13). Any buried objects or breaks in the standard stratigraphy are also displayed. These variations are identified as anomalies. A GPR survey can indicate where an anomaly is present and provide high-resolution spatial information, such as the depth of features and location. In a cemetery setting, metal parts of caskets and changes in soil consistency due to burial and decomposition process can cause anomalies. This survey used a Geophysical Survey Systems, Inc. (GSSI) SIR-System3000 with a 400 MHz radar antenna. It implemented a data collection rate of 100 KHz, with reflections recorded in the 50 nanosecond (ns) rate, reaching a depth of 2.5 m (8.2 ft) (Dean et al. 2018:23). The effectiveness of GPR can be reduced by the variable state of preservation across a landscape. Upper levels of burial shafts can homogenize with the surrounding soil matrix, particularly if the ground surface has been disturbed, making them visually indistinct (Bigman 2015:2). If interments

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were located outside of the fence, they likely date to a time that predates the mid-nineteenth century, well before the fence was built. These burials were subjected to a much longer period of degradation, natural settling, and impactions caused by the highway. Additionally, soil and sediment types effect the efficiency of GPR and other geophysical surveys. GPR works best in sandy and uniform sediments, while clay-based soils are difficult for radar signals to penetrate. Local soils are described as Palmyra gravelly loam, consisting of soil derived from glacial outwash, with gravely loam in the upper portion of the soil profile becoming gravellier and sandier with depth. ERCA gave permission to use the GPR within the cemetery grounds proper in order to collect GPR profiles for three marked burial plots. One plot contained four modern burials, one had several early twentiethcentury burials, and the third had burials from the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. This provided a comparative sample of the readout ranges of burials within the soil for different time periods. This sampling showed that the profiles of known burial locations become much less distinct with age, which likely has to do with the material in which the remains were buried. Metal coffins produce strong reflections while any wooden coffins interred over a century ago have likely broken down in the soil and provide weaker reflections. However even the older burials were noticeable using the GPR, showing it would be effective as a survey technique (Dean et al. 2018) (Figure 3.5). For the GPR survey, the project area was divided into three blocks. For each survey block, the GPR was run across the ground surface in westto-east transects, parallel with the cemetery fence and NY 5. The GPR control unit both recorded the data and showed real-time visualization

Figure 3.5.  Comparative GPR sampling profiles of known burial locations taken in Elbridge Rural Cemetery. Dates left to right are post-1950, early 1900s, and later 1800s. Image courtesy New York State Museum, Albany, NY.

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of reflections. While real-time visualization allowed any noted anomalies to be flagged in the field, the data were still collected and postprocessed in GSSI’s RADAN 7 software, and two filters were added to the raw slice traces, or profiles, within the survey blocks. One filter was used to remove the blank air between the antenna and ground surface, and the other was background removal, removing horizontal banding noise. After applying the filters, the survey blocks were assessed for any remaining anomalies. Anomalies whose shape and location shifted through depth were most likely natural features such as changes in geological attributes and were not investigated further. Any anomalies that retained persistent shape both across vertical and through multiple depths were noted as possible cultural features, such as grave shafts. Eight of these anomalies were identified in the project area and labeled anomalies A through H, and marked for further field investigation by ground truthing (Dean et al. 2018).

Ground Truthing and Excavations After conducting and analyzing the ground-penetrating radar, eight anomalies were identified as potential cultural disturbances. The next step was to return to the cemetery and conduct excavations in the project area. Twelve additional shovel test pits were placed within the project area, effectively condensing the 15m (50ft) grid into a 7.5m (25ft) grid. Additionally, part of the construction plan for the road improvements included placing two subsurface drainage structures directly in front of ERC, which would be the deepest and most destructive impaction of construction. Two 1m x 1m units were carefully excavated in the location of the future drainage structures to definitively clear those areas of any possible burials, with a third 1 m x ½ m unit added as an extension to unit 2 to chase and examine a possible feature. Then archaeological investigations, referred to as ground truthing, were conducted in eight locations where anomalies were identified. Anomalies A through G were examined by excavating 1 m x ½ m exploratory trenches over the center of the anomalies. These trenches were first excavated down to subsoil, after which the floor of the trench was observed to see if any evidence of burial shafts or other features were noticeable. Anomaly H had already been examined by units 2 and 3 in the same manner. Of the seven trenches and two units excavated, five yielded evidence of what caused the GPR disturbance or anomaly. The exploratory trench for anomaly C revealed an unground utility trench for a waterline, a disturbance that was the cause of the radar anomaly in the northern portion of the project area, just off the road shoulder. A buried modern road sign was recovered from the trench excavated for anomaly D and deter-

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mined to be its cause. Excavating the trench for anomaly G uncovered a level identified as roadside grit caused by modern disturbance, also likely related to the water line. Excavations for anomaly H, examined in units 2 and 3, and anomaly A had exposed stains caused by tree roots, which were the most likely cause of those anomalies. The exploratory trenches for anomalies B, E, and F did not encounter evidence of cultural features. The standard soil stratigraphy was observed in all three trenches, and no other disturbance was encountered that could possibly have caused these GPR anomalies. However, the radar reflections for anomalies B, E, and F were at significant depths, so these anomalies were unlikely to have been caused by large cobbles or boulders in the matrix of the glacial till deep in the subsoil. Fill soils and disturbances were identified in some of the initial exploratory STPs, units and ground-truthing trenches. Several STPs and Units contained mottled sediments and a high percentage of coarse gravel and cobbles in the upper levels of the excavations, indicating a disturbance occurred in this location when a trench for a waterline was dug around 2001. Most of the STPs, units, and trenches reached subsoil in the soil profile as shallow as 20 cm (8 in) to a depth of 58 cm (23 in), except in locations that disturbances were identified; however, subsoil was eventually encountered deeper in those locations. Taking into account the disturbances and fills higher in the stratigraphy, the soils generally followed what was expected from the USDA soil survey. A total of 232 artifacts were recovered in all excavations, the majority of artifacts coming from what was identified as fill soils and included domestic artifacts such as bone, building material like brick and cut nails, heating, cooking, and lighting materials, and modern debris. All artifacts were examined closely to determine whether they may be associated with burials; however, no such association was found, and most artifacts generally reflected roadside debris with no further research potential. One historic feature was encountered in a STP, identified as a stone footer for a post on the wrought-iron fence. At the completion of the field work, the excavations of the trenches for the anomalies, additional STPs, and the units did not encounter missing interments or evidence that burials were present in the project area and that missing burials were not likely present within the project area (Dean et al. 2018).

Conclusion After weighing all the information and data collected against historic research and research conducted in the field itself, it was concluded that there was only a very small likelihood that unmarked and missing burials

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were located within the project consisting of the narrow strip of grass between the Elbridge Rural Cemetery and NY 5. The ROW of presentday NY 5 existed before the formation of the cemetery, and all resources and interviews with local experts point to the location of the extant iron fence as the northern boundary of the cemetery ground since its formal organization. Studying historical documents and genealogical records and conducting a systematic survey of the cemetery grounds did not raise any major concern for a potter’s fields or any significant numbers of unmarked burials outside the defined cemetery boundaries. Surveying the project area itself with ground-penetrating radar and excavation further showed the lack of any evidence of unmarked burials. “The presence of burial beyond the fence would defy the cemetery’s long history of a consistent property boundary, planned burials, and an enduring local heritage of pioneer families, veterans and a proper respect of the dead” (Dean et al. 2018: 51). The results of the study indicate that the presence of burials and human remains within the defined project area was unlikely, and as such it was recommended that no additional work was needed and the construction project to widen the road could continue. NYSDOT proceeded with the project and no human remains were encountered within this area of study during the construction. Taken together and analyzed, extensive research, archives such as historic maps and sexton records, modern digital genealogical tools like findagrave.com, and field investigation that utilizes pedestrian survey and remote sensing (GPR) allowed a more concise and clearer picture then standard Phase I reconnaissance survey techniques. This survey proved to be informative not just through investigating this particular project area, but also for reexamining how to approach traditional archaeological surveys techniques in CRM settings alongside cemeteries and burials grounds. Even if a cemetery clearly appears to be outside designated areas of construction, unknown and unexpected human remains may be interred off cemetery grounds due to factors such as realignment, lost records of older burials, incomplete reinterments, or potter’s fields. Traditional techniques commonly employed in Phase I archaeological surveys can potentially miss burials; so additional field techniques and more extensive research could prove vital to finding, documenting, and preserving potential human remains. Beyond the techniques used in this survey, approaches to future surveys facing similar concerns should be open to continual development. Ground-penetrating radar is just one of many geophysical surveys available to archaeologists, and each approach should be weighed and then used based on the variable conditions in the field. Other potential techniques that could be implemented include soil stripping. The removal of modern fill soils with the underlying A

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horizon soils to the surrounding subsoil allows a thorough investigation for evidence of burial shafts. More intense background research and a pedestrian survey could be implemented in future surveys by examining and documenting monument stones in more detail and using GPS and GIS to display the data spatially in an attempt to parse out even more clues about the historical usage of cemetery grounds. While this survey was successful at investigating and determining the potential of unmarked interments and avoidance of the eventual road improvement project, the continual development and refinement of these methods and techniques are necessary to CRM as development and construction continue to occur adjacent to known cemetery grounds. Bob Dean has been an archaeological project director with the Cultural Resource Survey Program at the New York State Museum in Albany for over thirty years. He received his bachelor of arts in archaeology and has participated in graduate studies toward a master of arts at SUNY Albany. Dean’s work focuses mainly on historical-period archaeological sites in New York State. He has excavated on a variety of house sites, industrial sites, and transportation network sites throughout his career. Several of those CRM surveys have resulted in the study of cemeteries both in terms of cemetery boundaries and the presence of human remains. Mickey Dobbin has worked in cultural resource management archaeology since 2006, first at the Public Archaeology Facility out of Binghamton University, then at the Cultural Resource Survey Program out of the New York State Museum in Albany New York. At CRSP, he is a field technician, crew chief, project director, and cartographer working on CRM projects for other New York State agencies such as the Department of Transportation and Department of Environmental Conservation. Mickey serves on the executive board of, and is a steward in, the Public Employees Federation, a AFL-CIO-affiliated union representing the professional, technical, and scientific employees of New York State. Additionally, he represents PEF as a delegate to the Troy Area Labor Council, a local labor council representing the interests of union members and workers in Rensselaer County, New York. Mickey got his BA at Binghamton University, majoring both in anthropology with a concentration in archaeology as well as cinema. In addition to his work in archaeology and labor, he has worked in film, making his own short experimental and avant-garde films. From 2010 to 2011, he worked on an early entry in crowd-funded peer-to-peer shared web series, the science fiction show Pioneer One.

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References Beauchamp, Rev. W. M. 1913. Revolutionary Soldiers Resident or Dying in Onondaga County, N.Y. With Supplementary List of Possible Veterans. Based on a Pension List of Franklin H. Chase, Syracuse, N.Y. Syracuse: The Onondaga Historical Association. ———. 1917 “Inscriptions from Cemeteries in Onondaga Co. Taken from Notes.” Retrieved 10 July 2021 from Rootsweb.ancestry.com. Bigman, D. P. 2015. “Ground Penetrating Radar Survey of the Nathan Anderson Cemetery, Ringgold, GA.” Report prepared for the Nathan Anderson Cemetery. Suwanee, GA: Bigman Geophysical, LLC. Conyers, L. B. 2013. Ground-Penetrating Radar for Archaeology. Plymouth, UK: AltaMira Press. Dean, R., with contributions by M. Dobbin and H. Clark. 2018. “Cultural Resources Reconnaissance Survey. PIN 3077.21.121 Route 5 Safety Project and Widening Village of Elbridge, Town of Elbridge Onondaga County, New York Addendum Survey of Elbridge Rural Cemetery.” Albany: New York State Museum. Research and Collections, Cultural Resource Survey Program. Dean, R., and M. Dobbin. 2017. “Cultural Resources Reconnaissance Survey. PIN 3076.21.101 (PR#15PR06967) Route 5 Safety Project and Widening in The Village of Elbridge in the Town of Elbridge Onondaga County New York. Volume I Archaeological Survey.” Albany: New York State Museum. Research and Collections, Cultural Resource Survey Program. Ernenwein, E., and M. Hargrave. 2009. Archaeological geophysics for DoD Field Use: A Guide for New and Novice Users. Fayetteville, AR: Center for Advanced Spatial Technologies. University of Arkansas and the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers. Engineer Research and Development Center. Construction Engineering Research Laboratory. Ewing, M. W., D. W. Steadman, and K. Serpa. 2007. “Mitigation Phase III Survey Report for NYSDOT PIN 4096.24.323 Data Recovery at the Pioneer Cemetery Site.” Rochester: Regional Heritage Preservation Program. Rochester Museum and Science Center. Fletcher, A. 2019. “A History of the Potter’s Field in North Omaha.” North Omaha History, People, Places and Events by Adam Fletcher Sasse. Retrieved 4 September 2019 from northomahahistory.com/2019/09/04/a-history-of-the-pot ters-field-in-north-omaha. Gaffney, C. 2008. “Detecting Trends in the Prediction of the Buried Past: a Review of Geophysical Techniques in Archaeology.” Archaeometry 50(2): 313–336. Hulbert, A. B. 1904. Pioneer Roads and Experiences of Travelers. Cleveland, OH: Arthur H. Clark Company. New York State Education Department. 2004. Work Scope Specifications for Cultural Resource Investigations on the New York State Department of Transportation Projects. Albany: New York State Museum. Schmitt, Victoria. 2017. “Cultural Resources Architectural Survey. PIN 3076.21.101 (PR#15PR06967) Route 5 Safety Project and Widening in The Village of Elbridge in the Town of Elbridge Onondaga County New York. Volume II Architectural Survey.” Albany: New York State Museum. Research and Collections, Cultural Resource Survey Program.

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Schwartz, J. M., J. G. Horner, J. R. Horner, and D. P. Schwartz. 1999. A Stroll on Main Street, an Architectural and Historical Guide. Marcellus, NY: Village of Elbridge Historian. ———. 2003 A Stroll through Time. Elbridge, New York. A Chronology 1775–2003. Marcellus, NY: Village of Elbridge Historian. Slater, E., and M. Abel. 2002. “Updated Cemetery Inventory of Elbridge Rural Cemetery.” Retrieved 10 July 2021 from Rootsweb.ancestry.com. Smoot, F. 2002. “Sickness and Death in the Old South: Facing East, the Traditional Burial Position.” Retrieved 10 July 2021 from tngenweb.org. St. George, R. B. 1988. Material Life in America 1600–1860. Boston: Northeastern University Press. Willis, G. D. 2018. “The Potter’s Field.” Comparative Studies in Society and History 60(3): 539–568. Retrieved 10 July 2021 from https://doi.org/10.1017/ S001041751800018X.

CHAPTER 4

Who Lies Where? A Land and Air-Based Survey Methodology for Documenting Historic Cemeteries Richard W. Hunter, James S. Lee III, Alexis Alemy, and Evan Mydlowski

Context Cemeteries, graveyards, burial grounds—for most communities, these are all living repositories of the dead. Over the life of a cemetery, interments are periodically made; gravesites are usually marked, but minimally maintained; most are only intermittently visited by descendants for a few generations; and then, ultimately, they are forgotten and left to the ravages of time until dissolved by soil and water or obliterated by some incompatible land use. For the historian or archaeologist intent on capturing and presenting data about the dead and buried, documenting a cemetery presents an extraordinary challenge, depending on how far each of its constituent interments has progressed along its own particular timeline. The typical cemetery contains an unknown number of burials embedded in the ground for scores—often hundreds—of years. The number of grave markers and monuments invariably represents an undercount of the actual buried population. The precise limits of cemeteries are often uncertain; plot maps, if they exist, are seldom comprehensive or complete. Finding the site of a particular interment within a cemetery, one memorialized with a grave marker, can be a confounding and labyrinthine exercise. Such vagaries constrain any cemetery documentation methodology and are in play in the effort described below. This article is rooted in a study conducted for the Greater New Jersey Conference of the United Methodist Church in which five “orphaned” nineteenth-century Methodist cemeteries in New Jersey were documented

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and evaluated for future management solutions (Hunter Research, Inc. 2019). The term “orphaned” indicates that each cemetery had ceased to be used for burial purposes and had become detached from its parent congregation and/or church building. The conference, as owner of the cemeteries at the time, was concerned for their future maintenance and long-term well-being. The current article does not delve into the administrative and curatorial challenges facing New Jersey’s many orphaned burial places, Methodist or otherwise. It restricts itself instead to the practical task of how to systematically and accurately record—and make easily retrievable—above-ground information pertaining to a representative group of cemeteries, each with several hundred grave markers and other forms of memorial architecture. The five subject cemeteries, dispersed across New Jersey, today occupy a variety of rural and suburban settings, but historically, each was associated with a small village-based community in an agrarian landscape (Table 4.1). They range in size from just over half an acre to more than two acres and were all established in the nineteenth century. Each has followed a unique trajectory from original founding through fluctuating interment activity to orphan status. All five continued in active use for burying into the twenty-first century, although some have since closed. Based on the evidence of visible grave markers and historical records, the number of graves per cemetery ranges from roughly three hundred to 550, although the actual number is likely to be much higher. For the purpose of explaining the methodology developed for documenting the cemeteries, the narrative focuses on one particular cemetery—the Union United Methodist Cemetery in Centre Square, Logan Township, Gloucester County (Figures 4.1 and 4.2). The methodology aims first to record the physical characteristics of a cemetery through a combination of field documentation, land survey, and both land-based and aerial digital photography. Data acquired by these means are then organized and processed to create a cemetery-specific geographic information system (CGIS). The CGIS allows users to identify through an interactive map the whereabouts of memorialized individuals within a cemetery (which, in most cases, will correspond to an actual burial site). Also accessible through the CGIS are photographs of grave markers and monuments linked to the memorialized individuals, and relevant web links to www.findagrave.com. The methodology is geared principally to the systematic and accurate recovery of field data and makes no attempt to correlate this information with what is invariably an uneven historical record, although such linkages could be made in the future. Because this approach analyzes only the readily observable, above-ground features of graves within a cemetery, it is well suited to documenting cemeteries for which there is little or no

Windsor United Methodist Cemetery

51 Church Street, Windsor, NJ

Robbinsville Township

Jackson Township

(Jackson Cemetery)

Whitesville Methodist Cemetery

Whitesville Road, Jackson, NJ 08527

2180 Center Logan Square Road, Swedesboro, NJ, 08085

Methodist Episcopal Church of Union Neck Cemetery

Springfield Township

Lower Township

Tax Parcel

Block 209, Lot 1

Mercer

Ocean

Block 14, Lot 6

Block 22601, Lot 13

Gloucester Block 2805, Lot 20

Union

Cape May Block 752.01, Lot 37 (two parcels)

Municipality County

Union United Methodist Church Cemetery

Shunpike Road, West Cape May, NJ 08204

40 Church Mall, Springfield, NJ

(Mount Moriah Cemetery)

Mount Zion Methodist Cemetery

Street Address

Springfield Emanuel United Methodist Cemetery

Historical/ Alternative Names

Cemetery Name

Table 4.1. Five United Methodist Church cemeteries in New Jersey.

0.69 acres 375

0.85 acres 306

2.17 acres 413

1.43 acres 553 (incl. church and parsonage)

1837

1818

1844

1822

1887

2004

2015

2016

2016

2015

Approx. Most # of Earliest Recent Graves Burial Burial

1.46 acres 296 (two parcels: 1.21 and 0.25 acres)

Physical Size Comments

church and parsonage still standing; cemetery closed

cemetery used to be associated with nearby Whitesville Methodist Episcopal Church (now St. Thomas A. M. E.); cemetery is closed and no longer in use except for unfilled familyowned plots

church still standing (closed 2016); cemetery still in use

church and parsonage still standing; cemetery still in use

church removed (?1930s); Mt. Moriah Cemetery exists within limits of Mount Zion Methodist Cemetery; cemetery still in use

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Figure 4.1. Two oblique drone-acquired aerial views of the Union United Methodist Cemetery in Centre Square, Logan Township, Gloucester County, New Jersey. Image © Hunter Research, Inc.

historical record. It does not, however, analyze the below-ground characteristics or contents of graves, and readers are cautioned not to draw conclusions about the below-ground characteristics of a cemetery on the basis of data gathered by the methodology outlined here.

Cemetery Documentation Studies Several approaches to cemetery documentation have been developed and published in recent years (e.g., Baugher and Veit 2014; Department of Archaeology, University of York 2018; Goffinet 2013; Hunter Research, Inc. 2019; Liebens 2016; Matero and Peters 2003; Mytum 2000, 2004; Mytum and Burgess 2018; Sprague 2005; Strangstad 2013; Topographix 2021; Veit and Nonesteid 2008). Field data are usually collected for the purpose of producing maps to meet a range of needs, such as providing basic documentation of a cemetery as a matter of record; supporting an evaluation of the physical condition of memorials within a cemetery for conservation purposes; addressing concerns over plot ownership or availability; documenting previously unknown or unmarked burials; or establishing formal property boundaries. The principal cartographic products are typically plot maps, grave marker maps, geographic information system (GIS) map layers, or interactive mapping output. Generally, standard data collection involves recording names, birth and death dates, details about grave markers, and relationships with other grave markers and/or individuals. The most commonly used tool for collecting information from grave markers and monuments is a standardized recording form, which can be customized to suit a particular cemetery, and may be filled out either manually on printed sheets or digitally by us-

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Figure 4.2. Geo-rectified aerial site plan of the Union United Methodist Cemetery in Centre Square, Logan Township, Gloucester County, New Jersey. Image © Hunter Research, Inc.

ing a laptop or tablet computer (Mytum 2000, 2004; Strangstad 2013). Data collected by these means have most often been used to produce plot maps showing boundaries, owners, and family surnames associated with the grave plots. These maps are often produced, maintained, and held by

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the church congregation or cemetery association responsible for overseeing the burial ground. Such maps are usually based on visible elements within the cemetery landscape (sometimes from generational or community memory) and may or may not include information on the precise location of monuments, grave markers, and headstones. Often, data collected on forms in the field are supplemented with photographic imagery that may be captured using a digital camera. Noninvasive techniques can also be applied, enabling the collection of higherquality photographs and more accurate information. One such technique uses a reflective surface such as a mirror in order to manipulate light and shadow such that gravestone inscriptions become more legible (Goffinet 2013; Strangstad 2013). More recently, a refinement of this approach, known as reflectance transformation imaging (RTI), has gained prominence in cemetery recording (Mytum et al. 2017). Spatial data are also often collected to document the locations of grave markers, monuments, and family plots. Traditionally, the collection of spatial data has been achieved using a plane table, hand tapes, and gridded paper (Goffinet 2013), but as survey technology has evolved, spatial data are now typically collected using standard survey equipment (e.g., a total station [electronic transit theodolite] and data collector). Advances in mapping technology have resulted in more detailed and precise maps that may incorporate nearly all the data collected in the field in a single interface. GIS mapping is being used increasingly for cemetery documentation, enabling researchers to create layers of data that may be superimposed to produce a multicomponent cartographic tool that lends itself to efficient viewing and interpretation of features within a cemetery (Liebens 2016; Matero and Peters 2003; Strangstad 2013). GIS map layers are generated using precise, georeferenced spatial data for each grave marker and may incorporate additional sources of information including georeferenced aerial photographs and geophysical survey data, most notably acquired through ground-penetrating radar (GPR). GPR offers insight into cemetery features that may not be readily observed from the surface such as unmarked graves and buried grave markers (Hunter Geophysics 2021; Topographix 2021). GIS mapping has evolved to incorporate interactive elements as well, allowing users to search for specific information (e.g., names, birth and death dates) contained within the map layers, to view photographs of individual grave markers, and to link to related sources of information (City of Greenville, South Carolina 2021; Department of Archaeology, University of York 2021; Hunter Research, Inc. 2019). These maps may even provide users with specific directions so they may navigate a cemetery to successfully find a particular grave marker (Arlington National Cemetery 2021; CemSites 2021). Interactive mapping is also being adopted

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as a research and story-telling tool, offering historical narrative coupled with both georeferenced spatial data and photographs to illustrate and describe cemeteries from within a GIS (City of Marietta, Georgia 2021). These maps enable users to engage more intentionally with the data and compare data sets from multiple cemeteries with greater ease.

Cemetery Documentation Methodology Overview The documentation process outlined here addressed a group of cemeteries for which only limited historical information was available about the interred populations beyond the physical attributes of the cemetery itself (i.e., the grave markers, monuments, and family plots). Some limited historic cemetery plot information, in the form of written records, was available for the Springfield Emanuel United Methodist Cemetery, but this was not incorporated into the field documentation. Likewise, an unscaled cemetery plot map developed for the Windsor United Methodist Cemetery, in part using church records, was not fully correlated to the memorialized individuals, grave markers, monuments and family plots data recorded in the field. Detailed integration of historical data with in-field survey data could be usefully accomplished at some later date for both of these cemeteries. For the other three cemeteries (Mount Zion Methodist Cemetery, Union United Methodist Cemetery, and Whitesville Methodist Cemetery), there was no opportunity for meaningful, detailed integration of the historical record with the physical expression of the cemetery on and in the ground. A range of researching, data-gathering, and data-processing procedures was employed in documenting the five cemeteries. A combination of the following approaches was used in compiling spatial data sets for each cemetery: online and traditional archival and background research; land-based recording, surveying, and digital photography; droneacquired aerial digital photography; and various database management and geographic information system (GIS) techniques. Drawing on these data sets, a cemetery-specific geographic information system (CGIS) was created for each of the five cemeteries, providing aggregated, map-based burial data that can be displayed and queried in a manner broadly similar to Google Maps and other online map-viewing platforms. Each CGIS contains details of the cemetery population with links to photographs of individual grave markers and monuments, as well as to gravesite entries at the website www.findagrave.com where a “crowd-sourced” online database of cemetery records is maintained. The CGIS digital product can also be used as the basis for generating hard copy maps and reports in a

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range of formats. This documentation methodology is summarized and displayed graphically in a simple flow chart (Figure 4.3). The initial researching task involved compiling and organizing as much available historical data as possible pertaining to each cemetery. As a first step, relevant information held by the Greater New Jersey United Methodist Church (GNJUMC) was collected, and individuals knowledgeable about each of the cemeteries were identified, contacted and, where appropriate, interviewed. Historical data were also gathered from the United Methodist Archives and History Center at Drew University, from church records and from published and unpublished secondary sources. Historic maps and aerial photographs were consulted to confirm each cemetery’s location within the cultural landscape. Limited primary archival research was conducted, focused primarily on establishing a clear chain of title for each cemetery by examining land and court records. Finally, specific information about individual gravesites at each cemetery was gathered from the www.findagrave.com website. With available historical information suitably assembled, the study turned to the detailed in-field documentation of the cemeteries. This task involved both traditional paper-based and digital recording techniques, making use of pre-printed forms, land-based digital photography, surveying with a total station, and aerial digital photography captured by an unmanned aerial vehicle (UAV or drone). A data record sheet was designed for capturing basic information about individual grave markers, monuments, and family plots (e.g., name of deceased; birth and death dates; locational data; grave marker or monument style and other basic physical characteristics). Field documentation of each cemetery typically involved a team of two or three workers carrying out the various recording, photographic, and surveying tasks over a period of two to three days. To expedite the recording process in the field, much of the detailed inscription information on grave markers, monuments, and family plots was transcribed later, indoors, from photographs; the written record obtained in the field concentrated on gathering information not easily captured through photography, such as inter-grave relationships and the layout of family plots. A more detailed description of the logic underlying the field recording process is provided below. Following the gathering of field data, a program of data processing was implemented. Field data relating to grave markers, monuments, and family plots within each cemetery were first compiled into an MS Excel spreadsheet. The spreadsheet included links to grave sites at the findagrave.com website. A geodatabase was next created using ArcGIS software, in which the spreadsheet information was combined with the land-based photographic record and the total station survey data. A series of cemetery-specific geographic information systems (CGIS) was then developed

Figure 4.3. Flow diagram showing the integration of data sets in a cemetery geographic information system. Image © Hunter Research, Inc.

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by linking the geodatabase to the geo-rectified aerial digital photographic imagery. The final step in the data processing entailed refining an interface allowing users to access, view, search, and generate outputs from the CGIS. The ultimate goal of this interface was to provide a user-friendly means of locating memorialized individuals within each cemetery.

Memorialized Individuals, Grave Markers, Monuments, and Family Plots The fundamental recording unit in the cemetery documentation process is termed here the memorialized individual, which is the name of each person known or believed to be interred in the cemetery irrespective of whether the precise location of the interment is actually known. Thus, a memorialized individual correlates to a name on either a grave marker and/or a monument, and may also reference persons buried within a family plot. A single gravestone, monument, or family plot may, of course, honor one or more memorialized individuals. Unmarked interments are not considered memorialized individuals and were not documented as part of this study. In practice, for the purposes of in-field documentation of each cemetery, the principal physical components of the cemetery—chiefly, the grave markers, the monuments, and the family plots—drive the recording process. In many ways, the names of the memorialized individuals complicate this process, as a person’s name may recur on both a grave marker and a monument, and it may not always be possible to pin down the location of every individual interred within the cemetery. For this reason, the basic building block of the in-field survey of each cemetery was defined as the grave marker, a term used to describe a burial plot marked by a gravestone, metal placard, or medallion. A gravestone could feature inscriptions memorializing one or more individuals (e.g., a husband and wife, or parents and child) and may also relate to more than one interment. Some gravestones were clearly associated with footstones (sometimes bearing inscribed initials). In the few instances where this study documented single footstones, unassociated with headstones, we considered them grave markers. A grave marker may or may not duplicate information about a memorialized individual found on a monument, the latter being distinguished from a grave marker as a free-standing structure, such as a large stone block, obelisk, or some other architectural element, often ornately decorated, not necessarily positioned at the site of an actual burial, and typically with inscriptions referencing a family name or multiple memorialized individuals. In the few instances that an individual is memorialized

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only on a monument (and is not represented by a grave marker), such a person was documented as a memorialized individual having no known place of burial within the cemetery. In addition, grave markers and monuments in many cases correlate with a family plot, which is defined as an enclosed area, typically rectangular or square in plan, often marked by corner stones (sometimes inscribed with initials) or rails, and containing one or more interments. Many grave markers (and, to a lesser degree, monuments and family plots) displayed only partially legible or entirely illegible inscriptions. These cemetery elements were recorded as fully as possible with regard to data on memorialized individuals and were included in each cemetery spreadsheet and geodatabase. Particular attention was given to documenting the graves of veterans, many of whom were commemorated with both a private grave marker and a military-issue marker (see: https://www.cem .va.gov/hmm/). Details of military affiliation (e.g., war fought in; branch and division of the military; rank and other service information) were duly recorded. Both the Mount Zion and Whitesville cemeteries contained several aluminum markers, most of which could be matched with a grave marker. The few unassociated aluminum markers were separately recorded. A numerical coding system was adopted for recording memorialized individuals, grave markers, monuments, and family plots. Grave markers were individually numbered with a four-digit code in the sequence 0001– 0999. Memorialized individuals were identified first through the relevant grave marker number and secondarily by another digit separated by a decimal point (e.g., 0001.1, 0001.2, etc.). Monuments were individually numbered with a four-digit code in the sequence 1000–1999 with family plots in the sequence 2000–2999 also being cross-referenced as necessary to associate memorialized individuals and grave markers. A cautionary comment is warranted concerning correlation with the www.findagrave.com website, which represents all five cemeteries. Following the completion of the in-field survey of each cemetery, time was spent comparing and cross-referencing the field records with the findagrave entries and adding the relevant findagrave links to the grave marker spreadsheets. This was helpful in that the www.findagrave.com website includes some earlier photographs of gravestones whose inscriptions were less weathered and therefore more legible. There were other instances, however, in which cross-checking revealed errors in the findagrave data. Data on the www.findagrave.com website that could not be verified by the field survey or confirmed from other documentary sources were excluded from the cemetery documentation. It is also important to note in this context that the www.findagrave.com website is not all-inclusive in

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its coverage of the five cemeteries and does not provide information as to where within a cemetery a particular memorialized individual is located.

Digital Photography and Surveying In-field documentation commenced with taking general photographs of each cemetery site. Multiple views were photographed looking inward and across each cemetery from its periphery. Other views selectively photographed associated buildings (e.g., church, parsonage, sheds and other outbuildings) and specific features, such as signs and perimeter walls and fences. Every grave marker, monument, and family plot within each cemetery was then photographed. Footstones were individually photographed and also photographed in relation to their associated gravestones. All detailed photographic views included scale rods. To achieve the best lighting conditions and enhance the legibility of inscriptions on gravestones, a light reflector (one surface gold; the other silver) was frequently deployed. In most instances, deflecting light onto a gravestone with the gold side of the reflector produced an enhanced shadow effect, making the inscriptions easier to read and photograph. Using the silver side of the reflector tended to produce a more washed-out image. As a supplement to the in-field recording of each grave marker, monument, and family plot, a total station survey was carried out at each cemetery. At the outset of the in-field recording, two or three benchmarks and various other reference points were strategically established throughout the cemetery to make allowance for obstructions such as trees, monuments, or standing buildings. Once the benchmarks and reference points were set up, the survey continued by recording the coordinates for each grave marker, monument, and family plot. For gravestones and footstones, survey points were recorded at ground level in the center of the stone on the side containing the inscription. For exceptionally large gravestones, survey points were recorded at ground level at the stone’s two outermost corners. For monuments, survey points were recorded at the ground level at the center point on each face of the monument, while survey points were recorded for all visible corner stones of the family plots and for any additional markers around the plot periphery. The locations of various other features within the cemeteries (buildings, signs, decorative elements, tell-tale depressions) were also surveyed. Finally, in some instances, it was necessary to record multiple survey points for certain parts of each cemetery to counteract poor visibility and obstructions affecting the aerial photography documentation described below. This approach enabled a better perspective of location to be achieved and helped to pinpoint certain critical features within the cemeteries.

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Unmanned Aerial Vehicle (UAV) Photographic Survey Aerial photographic surveys were completed at each cemetery using a DJI Phantom 4 Pro drone. Completion of this task required warm weather (temperatures between 32 and 104 degrees Fahrenheit), no precipitation or fog, and calm winds (winds speeds below 22 mph). In addition, appropriate airspace permissions were needed, which entailed filing flight plans with the Federal Aviation Administration (FAA) several weeks in advance. To enable georectification of the aerial photography, the benchmarks and reference points established during the land-based total station survey were flagged with pink tape and left in the ground to serve as control points. This measure allowed photographic data sets to be matched in the creation of the final mapping product. The drone was flown at optimal altitudes, typically 50 to 100 feet, and in a consistent pattern to capture imagery of the entire site. Multiple passing traverses were flown at each cemetery to ensure overlap of the photographs and a higher-quality stitched composite image. Once the aerial photographic imagery was captured, it was loaded into Agisoft Metashape software (Version 1.6.2) to be processed and georectified into a single orthomosaic aerial photograph. A digital elevation model (DEM) was also derived from the drone photography, enabling the mapping of close-interval contours throughout the cemetery. To begin the process of creating a geographic information system for each cemetery (CGIS), the orthomosaic aerial photographs were georeferenced to the New Jersey Geographic Information Network (NJGIN) aerial imagery from 2015, using prominent features such as roads and buildings to match the images geographically. Once the orthomosaic aerial photographs were georeferenced, the total station survey files could be georeferenced to the orthomosaic imagery, using the benchmarks and reference points established on the ground. In-field survey data for the grave markers, monuments, and family plots were then linked to each other by matching points from the different surveys from each benchmark, thus creating the base data for each CGIS. Using the total station survey files and the orthomosaic aerial photographs, the burial features of each cemetery were outlined and labeled with the relevant data from the in-field documentation process.

Data Presentation When presenting the cemetery documentation data, a number of output options are currently available and offer varying levels of interactivity. Output production may make use of ESRI ArcGIS Publisher and Reader, ESRI ArcGIS Online Web Map Application, or an interactive PDF file

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generated either from ESRI ArcGIS or other software such as TerraGo Publisher, or can take the form of a straightforward cemetery map paired with the cemetery database (printed or digital).

ArcGIS Publisher and Reader Published Map Files (PMF) The cemetery geographic information systems (CGISs) are viewable as individual ArcGIS Published Map files (.pmf) using free ArcGIS Reader software (Version 10.6.1). This software is similar to ArcGIS Desktop (Version 10.6.1) but lacks editing capability. ArcReader enables the user to view map data more interactively than is possible with a PDF file (Figure 4.4). Using these map files, the CGISs can be manipulated through data queries and can locate features within the cemeteries. The map files include links to view photographs of individual grave markers and monuments as well as web links to data at www.findagrave.com. Although there is no editing capability, ArcReader has a markup tool similar to PDF comments that can be imported into ArcGIS to facilitate editing by others. When viewing the map using the data view window, the user can “zoom” and “pan” as well as interact with the map’s data. With the “identify” tool, the user can specify a database layer, select features and bring up a window with associated information (Figure 4.5). The “identify”

Figure 4.4. Portion of the aerial site plan from the Union United Methodist Cemetery CGIS as viewed in ArcReader, highlighting a single-family plot with a monument, seven grave markers, and nine memorialized individuals. Image © Hunter Research, Inc.

Figure 4.5. Typical data view windows for a grave marker and memorialized individual linking to a portion of the aerial site plan from the Union United Methodist Cemetery CGIS. Image © Hunter Research, Inc.

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window also allows viewing for photograph attachments and linking to www.findagrave.com. The “find” tool allows the user to search for specific records within database layers or within specific database sets and fields. Search examples may use the ID number, first name, and/or surname. When searching an ID number, all of the places that this specific number appears will be listed in the window. The user can select specific records from the window and use the “identify” tool to view the desired information.

ESRI ArcGIS Online Web Map Application To expand the CGIS capability, data can be uploaded to an ArcGIS Online server that is viewable online with appropriate permissions. Within the Web Map Application, all actions that are achievable using the ArcGIS Published Map files can also be accomplished on the ArcGIS Online server. With the “filter” tool, the user can search for an ID number or first name and/or surname within the database layers. With the “search” or “group filter” tool, the user can search for an ID number or surname within the entire cemetery database. With the “select” tool, the user can select features on the map and view the results of a selected data set. Once a feature or group of features is selected, the user can view or export the selected data.

Interactive PDF and GeoPDF A map product of the CGIS that falls between a generic PDF file and the ESRI ArcGIS Published Map is the interactive PDF. This documentation is obtainable through the export function of ArcGIS software, which creates a PDF with all of the layers within the GIS, forming a model tree that displays the layers’ contents. The query capability is very basic, allowing searches for text strings within the entire document and model tree, and displaying a list of results. This feature is a step down from the ArcGIS Published Map as it is not possible to search within a specific layer. Other commercially available software, like TerraGo Publisher (Version 7.8.0), offers the ability to export the CGIS from ArcGIS as a more interactive GeoPDF. The TerraGo GeoPDF and GeoMark Toolbars (as add-ons within Adobe Creative Cloud) that allow the user to view these interactive capabilities are free Adobe Reader extensions that offer query capabilities somewhat similar to the ESRI ArcReader tools. Using the Identify tool in the GeoPDF Toolbar, the user is able to select features from the map or search for keywords. Like the ArcGIS Published Map files, there are no capabilities to edit the TerraGo GeoPDFs; however, there is a markup tool in the GeoMark Toolbar, similar to PDF com-

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ments, which can be imported into ArcGIS to facilitate editing. The current versions of interactive PDF and GeoPDF do not include embedding photo attachments into the PDF file or active internet links, such as www .findagrave.com.

Cemetery Map Paired with the Cemetery Database (Printed or Digital) The simplest form of CGIS output is the pairing of printed versions of the cemetery map with the cemetery database. Using the large format labeled map with a high-resolution aerial photograph, marker numbers can be manually matched to the numbers from the printed database. A more advanced form of matching the printed map with the cemetery database can make use of an Excel spreadsheet version of the cemetery database. By viewing the cemetery data within the Excel database, the user can undertake finding/selecting, sorting, filtering, and querying routines with the data.

Future Prospects Already, in the few years since this study of the five United Methodist Church cemeteries was undertaken, refinements and improvements can be suggested for the documentation methodology. For example, datagathering operations in the field can be streamlined and made more efficient by using software such as ArcGIS Survey123, while drone photography is an option for recording and 3D modeling of important cemetery architecture and family burial plots. There is also an expanding range of options available for publishing a CGIS on the internet using services such as ArcGIS Online. Proprietary software is typically not required for viewing and interacting with a website, and large data files such as those attendant on a CGIS can be stored online without needing to be curated on a server. Access to the online maps can be controlled through passwords, while simpler, easily modified interfaces can be devised as new versions of CGIS services are published. Ultimately, the biggest benefit here is in making the cemetery information available to anyone who is interested. Beyond the reach of the documentation project defined here, there are certainly opportunities for incorporating historical, genealogical, remote sensing, and archaeological data into a CGIS. Correlation of the CGIS mapping with cemetery plot maps, if these are available, is an obvious first step. Unfortunately, most plot maps are not formally surveyed and are therefore inexact in comparison to the geo-rectified photomosaic

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aerial site plans that form the basis of a CGIS. Considerable manipulation may be necessary; but theoretically, after the grave markers have been photographed from the air and surveyed on the ground, the aerial site plan of the cemetery can be used as a base for rubber-sheeting the plot maps. The photomosaic aerial photography can also be used to generate a digital elevation model (or DEM) for each cemetery. These models can be manipulated to highlight micro-topographic differences in elevation by making use of different color ramps. Although DEMs will likely vary from cemetery to cemetery, unmarked graves, and family plots may well be discernible in the imagery when such distinctions are well-nigh invisible at ground level. The increasing availability of UAV-based LIDAR (laser imaging, detection, and ranging) equipment is likely to accelerate the usefulness of DEMs in mapping cemeteries. The CGIS approach should work well in concert with remote sensing techniques, most notably ground-penetrating radar (GPR). GPR survey in many instances can be expected to confirm the existence of grave shafts associated with gravestones, but the technique can also identify shafts and potential burials that have no grave marker. Furthermore, buried gravestones that are either broken off below the surface or have been covered by turf may also be recognizable as GPR anomalies, while this survey technique can potentially identify unmarked family plots and assist in distinguishing between memorials with associated graves and those without. All told, the combination of geo-rectified aerial photography, GIS, DEMs, and GPR offers an exceptionally powerful suite of non-invasive investigative approaches that can cast revealing light on any self-respecting cemetery. In summary, the cemetery documentation methodology outlined here is usefully poised for further development. There is ample room for improvement, both within the operational framework described and through integration with other modes of cemetery study. At its core, however, the methodology provides a practical means of “communicating” with the dead, offering families, genealogists, historians, and others the ability to research interment and commemorative data and easily find the final resting places of individuals of interest.

Acknowledgments The cemetery studies forming the basis for this article were commissioned by the Greater New Jersey Conference of the United Methodist Church. Our thanks are offered to John Cardillo, Conference Treasurer

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and Director of Administrative Services, Beverly Schol, Assistant Property Manager, Lida DeNardo, Finance and Administrative Services Coordinator, Barbara Gruezke, Insurance Coordinator, and Victoria Hahn, former trustee, for their assistance, advice, and support in discussing the project at various stages during its completion.

Richard W. Hunter is president of Hunter Research, Inc., a historic preservation and cultural resource-management consulting firm founded in 1986 and based in Trenton, New Jersey. Trained in the United Kingdom and the United States, Hunter’s principal areas of expertise are historical and urban archaeology and historical geography. He has a particular interest in mill sites, potteries, and the archaeology of the American Revolution, while nurturing for many years an enthusiasm for researching and documenting cemeteries. His Ph.D. in geography is from Rutgers University. James S. Lee III is vice president of Hunter Research, Inc. and serves as their principal archaeologist. He has worked as a consulting archaeologist for twenty-five years and has a deep interest in the historical and industrial archaeology of the northeastern United States. Lee is particularly knowledgeable about the canals of the Middle Atlantic region, and lives in a plane tender’s house on the Morris Canal. He has a B.A. in history and anthropology from Rutgers University, and an M.A. in archaeology from Durham University in England. Alexis Alemy is a staff archaeologist with Hunter Research, Inc. Her passion for cemetery preservation has guided much of her work and research in recent years. Alemy is skilled in the excavation of burials and interested in the analysis and interpretation of historic cemeteries from both above and below ground. She received her master’s degree in anthropology from Monmouth University, where she focused on developing a statistical method for analyzing human skeletal remains using photogrammetry. Evan Mydlowski works as a GIS specialist, surveyor, and archaeologist at Hunter Research, Inc. Mydlowski is an FAA-certified drone pilot and uses his skills in cartography and graphic design to create detailed plans and drawings of archaeological sites and excavations. In addition to his technical capabilities, he is a trained field archaeologist. He received his master’s degree in anthropology from Monmouth University.

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References Arlington National Cemetery. 2021. “ANC Explorer.” Retrieved January 2021 from https://ancexplorer.army.mil/publicwmv/#/arlington-national/search/ results/1/CgVicm93bg—/. Baugher, S., and R. F. Veit. 2014. The Archaeology of American Cemeteries and Grave Markers. Gainesville: University Press of Florida. CemSites. 2021. Retrieved January 2021 from https://cemsites.com/cemeterysoftware/cemetery-mapping/. City of Greenville, South Carolina. 2021. “Springwood Cemetery Viewer.” Retrieved January 2021 from https://citygis.greenvillesc.gov/Html5Viewer/?viewer=Spr ingwoodCemetery. City of Marietta, Georgia. 2021. “Marietta City, Places of Grave Interest.” Electronic document. Retrieved January 2021 from https://cityofmarietta.maps.arcgis .com/apps/MapJournal/index.html?appid=2b92c3974bbb4c44a896c20231a3 06e5. Department of Archaeology, University of York. 2021. “Discovering England’s Burial Spaces.” Retrieved January 2021 from http://www.debs.ac.uk/. Goffinet, P. 2013. Mapping and Documenting Cemeteries. 2nd ed. CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform. Hunter Geophysics. 2021. Retrieved January 2021 from https://www.huntergeo physics.com/. Hunter Research, Inc. 2019. Historical Research, Site Documentation and Management Assessment, Five United Methodist Church Cemeteries in Central and Southern New Jersey. Report on file, Greater New Jersey Conference of the United Methodist Church, Neptune, New Jersey. Liebens, Johan. 2003. “Map and Database Construction for an Historic Cemetery: Methods and Applications.” Historical Archaeology 37: 56–68. Matero, F. G., and J. Peters. 2003. “Survey Methodology for the Preservation of Historic Burial Grounds and Cemeteries.” Departmental Papers (Historic Preservation). 5. Retrieved March 2021 from http://repository.upenn.edu/hp_ papers/5. Mytum, H. 2000. Recording and Analyzing Graveyards. Council for British Archaeology Handbook 15. York, England: Council for British Archaeology. –––. 2004. Mortuary Monuments and Burial Grounds of the Historic Periods. New York: Kluwer Academic/Plenum Publisher. Mytum, H., and L. Burgess, eds. 2018. Death Across Oceans: Archaeology of Coffins and Vaults in Britain, America and Australia. Washington, DC: Smithsonian Institution Scholarly Press. Sprague, R. 2005. Burial Terminology: A Guide for Researchers. Lanham, MD: Altamira Press. Strangstad, L. 2013. A Graveyard Preservation Primer. 2nd ed. New York: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers. Topographix LLC. 2021. Retrieved January 2021 from https://www.topographix .com/how-to-map-cemeteries/. University of York. 2018. Retrieved January 2021 from https://www.york.ac.uk/spsw/ research/cemetery-research-group/about-cemeteries/select-bibliography/. Veit, R. F., and M. Nonesteid. 2008. New Jersey Cemeteries and Tombstones: History in the Landscape. New Brunswick, NJ: Rivergate Books.

PART II

Field Recording of Monuments and Burial Ground Management

CHAPTER 5

Revisiting Historic Burial Grounds Anne G. Giesecke and Dan G. Steffen

Introduction Recording and digitizing cemetery data are necessary to the preservation of gravestone information, but can also present challenges. In 1976, I (Giesecke) with local groups collected data on three eighteenth-century graveyards in New Hampshire. I have the original field notes for two and an annotated typed report for the third. In 2015, we (Giesecke and Steffen) returned to evaluate the condition of these cemeteries: Gumpus Hill Cemetery in Pelham; and Thornton Hill and Turkey Hill in Merrimack. During the intervening thirty-nine years, many stones had been lost and many others had become unreadable. Making matters worse, local libraries and historical societies had not kept the 1976 reports. This chapter will identify the changes that were observed and describe the challenge of digitizing the maps, written notes, photographs, and genealogical information for these cemeteries. We argue that digital preservation of records is an important step to preserving them for the future. In our opinion, the Center for Digital Antiquity at Arizona State University may be the best choice at this time for digital storage of the surviving materials. Although images of the paper materials can be stored, they cannot be searched with current technology. The loss of gravestones, field notes, and original reports for cemetery projects and deaccessioning by local and state historical societies and libraries warranted a revisiting of the data from the 1970s. The American Bicentennial of 1976 inspired a serious look at historic cemeteries throughout New England. At the time, many of the cemeteries had been overgrown and neglected, but Giesecke had the opportunity to work with local groups to map and record several cemeteries in New Hampshire. The three cemeteries listed above will be used as examples of the need to revisit the information collected during the 1970s. At the time, ballpoint

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pens and notebooks were used to record the information on each headstone and footstone. Typed reports of what was on the gravestones and maps showing the boundaries of the cemetery and the locations of the gravestones were filed with local historical societies and public libraries. The state’s nascent historic preservation office was not yet in a position to accept materials. Inquiries in 2014 ascertained that the reports and maps had not been kept. The exception was a scanned copy of the typed report listing the gravestones for the Gumpus Hill Cemetery site. Dan Steffen and I returned in 2015 to evaluate the condition of the cemeteries. The cemeteries were well maintained but the number of lost stones was surprising. For instance, the Turkey Hill Graveyard, established in 1771 in Merrimack, New Hampshire, had 305 gravestones recorded in 1976. In 2015, there were only 107 gravestones, many of which were unreadable. Thornton Hill Graveyard was established between 1742 and 1749 in Merrimack. In 1976, 120 gravestones were recorded. In 2015, there were ninety-two gravestones. Gumpus Hill Cemetery was established during the mid-eighteenth century in Pelham. In 1976, 359 gravestones were recorded. In 2015, there were 244 headstones, many of which were unreadable. The Pelham Historical Society, Gumpus Hill Cemetery Inscriptions, can be found at: http://www.pelhamnhhistory.org/library/ onlinelibrary_lib1.html#Gravestones (retrieved 14 September 2020).

Reasons That Gravestones Have Been Lost Gravestones have been lost or become unreadable for many reasons. People can be very creative with their treatment of gravestones. Here is a summary of some of the conditions that I observed while working in cemeteries in New England during the 1970s and that still exist. Lawn mowers and weed whackers mark the lower part of the stone and can, in some cases, weaken the stones sufficiently to cause them to break. When the stone is lying down, it is subject to natural stresses that could make it unreadable and break it apart. Gravestones may have been removed because the contracted landscape company could mow faster and more cheaply with fewer stones in the area. Gravestones being precut and smoothed have been used as pavers for walkways and used to build stone walls. Reuse of cut stones has occurred as long as there have been cut stones—thousands of years. Weather takes a toll on gravestones. Heat and cold, rain and ice all work to wear away carving and to break stones. For example, a layered stone such as slate can spall, losing the carved layer. Poor quality stone of any type may crumble. People have used wire brushes, other stiff-bristled brushes, and scrapers of various materials to clean lichen, fungus, and moss off gravestones. The damage to the carv-

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ings and text can be severe enough to make the stone unreadable—particularly for softer stones such as marble. Harsh chemicals have been used to clean gravestones. These chemicals remove staining and growths but often remove the surface of the stone as well. A stone that has formed a relatively stable patina can erode rapidly when that layer is removed. During the eighteenth century, many town centers were built along roads. During the late twentieth century, roads were expanded, often appropriating cemetery land for new vehicle lanes. Gravestones and graves were dug under or leveled away. By the end of the twentieth century, historic preservation laws that applied to some cemeteries and data collection, the preservation of gravestones, and the reburial of the dead became more common. When cemeteries are near roadways, the vehicular traffic and atmosphere can cause acid rain conditions, which will erode the stones, especially marble. On the other hand, cemeteries located in high visibility areas near current town centers or along frequently traveled roads are often better cared for and therefore preserved. Burial of a famous person such as a signer of the Declaration of Independence or an accomplished military leader may have drawn local attention though local historical societies, which then advocated for maintenance of the cemetery. For example, a memorial obelisk to Mathew Thornton, who signed the Declaration of Independence for New Hampshire, is in the Thornton Hill Cemetery in Merrimack. Vandals can cause a great deal of damage to grave markers. They try to knock gravestones down. They may cover them with paint. They make their own marks on the stone. While some of this damage is permanent, other destruction may be corrected through conservation. For additional comments on cleaning gravestones, the Cemetery Conservators For United Standards, a nonprofit organization, has good information on safe and responsible cleaning methods (Cemetery Conservators for United Standards 2020).

What Has Happened to the Field Notes and Reports? Cemeteries were not seriously considered archaeological sites during the 1970s. Nor were they considered eligible for listing in the National Register of Historic Places until a National Park Service report, dated 17 December 1986, recommended the application of National Register criteria to graves and cemeteries. Before 1986, when a church was listed as an architectural structure or part of a historic district, a line would be drawn around the cemetery and it was excluded from the listing. Exclusion from the listing also meant exclusion from any protections that local or state regulations may have offered.

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During the 1970s, genealogical studies were popular. A broader scholarly interest in cemeteries was triggered when James Deetz and Edwin Dethlefsen (1965) used cemetery gravestone designs to study design changes over time. Many of Deetz’s students and other scholars recorded information from a number of cemeteries. Notably, many were selective in the data they collected depending on the archaeological hypothesis they were addressing. What materials were gathered were deposited with local historical societies, local libraries, and academic institutions associated with the principal investigators. When much of the cemetery data were being collected in New England, new state offices were being organized but were generally not well funded. These offices have been reorganized and moved over time. It appears that, along with regular deaccessioning, each move involved a review of what was kept and what was not kept, especially paper files. New Hampshire is a good example of the development of cultural resource management that can be found in many states. The following is a short history from the official web site for New Hampshire for historic and cultural resources. Each state has a preservation program based on the National Historic Preservation Act of 1966, as amended (16 U.S.C. 470f), but tailored to its own needs and organizational structure. New Hampshire’s state historic preservation program began in 1974 as the State Historic Preservation Office in the Department of Resources and Economic Development. In 1985 it became the Division of Historical Resources (DHR) and was moved to a new department, renamed the Department of Cultural Resources in 1998, which also includes the State Council on the Arts, the State Library, the Film and Television Office, the Commission on Native American Affairs, and Curatorial Services. As of July 1, 2017, and the adoption of the New Hampshire’s state budget for Fiscal Year 2018–2019, the Department of Cultural Resources’ four divisions were combined with the Division of Parks & Recreation and Division of Forest & Lands (both formerly divisions of the Department of Resources and Economic Development) to form the Department of Natural and Cultural Resources. (New Hampshire Division of Historical Resources 2020)

Government institutions like the State Historic Preservation Office, public and private cemetery offices, state and local libraries, and historical societies all deaccession documents. Two reasons for deaccessioning are the need for space and the deterioration of paper reports. Currently, many state offices are deaccessioning the whole range of archaeological and architectural reports. The reports may be listed, and researchers referred to the author of the report. The assumption that authors and their institutions have maintained copies of the field notes and reports is optimistic at best. This referral to authors is particularly problematic for cultural resource management (CRM) reports written for development projects. Frequently, CRM firms go out of business and the records are not archived.

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Given the lack of appreciation for burial grounds in the historical and archaeological communities, alternative organizations developed, such as the Association for Gravestone Studies. That organization still brings together people interested in studying cemeteries. Archaeologists have also increasingly embraced cemetery studies. Indeed, for those who want to record cemeteries, an excellent guide is the International Monument Recording System by the Council for British Archaeology (Mytum 2000).

What Do Data from the 1970s Look Like and Where Might They Be Found The purpose of this section is to identify both historical data that may be available for New England cemeteries from studies completed during the 1970s and the use to which data to study anthropological and archaeological questions may be put. Many types and forms of data may be available. Data may be available as text and numbers, images, and combinations of images and text. Text may include handwritten copies of epitaphs and, occasionally, typed text. Computer programs being considered for preserving and managing data must have the capability to handle data in as many formats as possible and should also be searchable. Technological capabilities change rapidly. For example, in the 1970s, core sample phosphate testing was used to identify burials. Now, remote sensing technologies, such as ground-penetrating radar, is used to reveal burial patterns. This technology helps us gain a better understanding of burial patterns in historical cemeteries. The following is a list of the categories and types of data that may be found and used to describe historic cemeteries. The data elements will then be discussed as they apply to a variety of research questions. The broad range of information formats makes digitization a challenge. The data should be scanned or entered in a way that can be searched. The categories of data include nine types of text and numbers: 1. Typed notes from field work such as the recording of names or texts on the gravestones. 2. Copies of material. Unfortunately, photocopy paper in the 1970s was really a kind of photo and the paper has generally deteriorated over time (Figure 5.1). Mimeograph copies have also faded. 3. Documents such as church or local government records. 4. Soil types and test results, such as those for enriched phosphate to identify human or animal contaminants and activity areas such as graves or an animal pound.

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Figure 5.1. Page from the 1976 project report by Anne G. Giesecke for Gumpus Hill Cemetery, Pelham, New Hampshire. © Anne G. Giesecke.

5. Cemetery dimensions and area, verbal descriptions that may accompany maps. 6. Buildings and activity areas, verbal descriptions. 7. Directional orientation of stones and the cemetery itself. 8. Weather conditions during recording, which can affect the completeness or accuracy of the data. 9. Individual person recording the information, handwriting and attention to detail vary by individual. There were also six types of images: 1. Photographs and colored slides of the cemetery area and of gravestones.

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2. Wax rubbings of gravestones. 3. Drawn designs and stone shapes. 4. Map of gravestones, mapping methods including triangulation, latitude/longitude, and later GPS. 5. Map of the cemetery area and location. 6. Google Earth screen captures and, eventually, new technologies. In addition, four types of record combined images and text: 1. 2. 3. 4.

Handwritten field notes and copies of stones. Boundaries noting walls, hedges and fences. Artifacts from surface collections and excavation. Images of gravestones and footstones.

In addition to the kinds of information listed above, there may be oral histories. Some oral histories were recorded for the Bicentennial and some are more recent recordings made for town anniversary milestones. Local people can be a valuable source of information. Local historical societies and libraries may have kept these recordings, but the format may be a challenge; for example, tapes made for tape players that are no longer readily available. The digitization of cemetery data during the 1970s was conducted with computer punch cards. These cards do not appear to have been kept, and the computer programs do not appear to have been updated to preserve the accessibility of the data. Wax crayon rubbings also offer a wealth of information. (Figure 5.2). They show the actual size of the stone. The condition of the stone and the type of stone might be interpreted by how smooth or rough the texture is as reflected in the smooth or more textured look

Figure 5.2. Wax rubbing by Anne G. Giesecke of the gravestone of Rebkah Butler, Gumpus Hill Cemetery, Pelham, New Hampshire. © Anne G. Giesecke.

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of the wax surface. They show the shape of the stone, the carved design, and the dates and text for the memorialized individual. Wax rubbings may be hard to find because traditionally they have been used in private homes for decoration. However, wax rubbings have also been used as illustrations in books and articles about cemeteries and local history but some information, such as the size of the stone, is usually lost. Text of the wax rubbing: IN Memory of Miss Rebkah Butler, Who died Sept. 4 1809, AE 25. Stop active soul and see, How soon our race was run, Here you may see, no age is free Prepare to meet thy doom. (Rebkah Butler, 1809, Gumpus Hill Cemetery, Pelham, New Hampshire)

The stone has a minimal stylized willow design and a death text. The stone, with the date 1809 and its rural location, shows a transition from a focus on the finality of death to the willow representing resurrection. Art photographs are often very attractive and show the carver’s skills as a sculptor. Unfortunately, the photographs rarely show a scale; where and when the picture was taken may not be included. Art photographs are an interesting way to study design motifs. Historic photographs are useful for seeing historic burial places in context. Sadly, many are not dated. During the 1970s when a cemetery was studied, photographs were taken of the headstones. Negatives and prints may survive. Technology was simple: a camera, some film, a ruler, and a reflective card or sheet to maximize the light and highlight shallow inscriptions. Black-and-white film was common; some color film was used. Sadly, color slides are among the least stable images of the time. Gravestones are notoriously hard to photograph even with today’s technology. Shallow or worn carving on gravestones can make the words difficult to read in a photograph. The location of these records and the written reports and maps can be difficult to find. Local historical societies, libraries, and university libraries are all places to consider. Historic maps may show cemeteries and town centers but may not have a scale, directional orientation, or date. The notebook pages, the field notes of these three cemeteries, list the following information: gravestone headstone and footstone: location; orientation; material; condition, repairs; shape; design; carver, cost; dates; text; veteran; back of stone– polished, rough, drill marks. Not all of the characteristics or elements were available for each stone. The carver, cost, and veteran status are often the hardest information to discern (Figure 5.3).

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Figure 5.3. Notebook page from the field notes by Anne G. Giesecke from Thornton Hill Cemetery, Merrimack, New Hampshire. © Anne G. Giesecke.

Often, the carved surface of the headstones face east or west. Footstones were located in front or in back of the headstones. Usually, the carved surface of the footstone was found to face away from the headstone. Footstones were generally small and consequently many were moved over time (Figure 5.4). A map and description are important for understanding the relationship of the cemetery to the surrounding landscape. Early New England town centers were built to take advantage of transportation systems. The rivers were the first means of accessing the interior. Indian trails along the first or second terrace following the rivers were also used. Figure 5.5 is a composite and general description of town centers. This schematic is not

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Figure 5.4. Headstone and footstone, Gumpus Hill Cemetery, Pelham, New Hampshire. © Dan G. Steffen.

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Figure 5.5. Activity areas of a New England town center during the eighteenth century. Drawing by Anne G. Giesecke.

an actual town center but the dimensions of the buildings and activity areas are from real sites. The focus of the town center was a building large enough to hold the people of the town and would often serve as a church and town meeting house. The door was usually on the long side facing south. If the town was well off, a school would also be built.

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Near these buildings, a cemetery would be reserved, and a low wall, fence, or planted hedge would be constructed around it. The cemetery was often oriented with a gate to the east along a road and the back to the west. The rivers and roads in New England usually run north to south. The area would be about 59 meters by 52 meters (194 feet by 170 feet). Burials were oriented east–west, feet to the east, so that the deceased could face the heavenly host when they would rise to heaven. A wall usually surrounded the cemetery. The commons was a large grazing field near the town center. The field was also used for militia practice. A town pound for stray animals, usually cattle, was built with a high wall near the town center. The animal pound and graves could be identified by phosphate testing, which can identify human or animal contaminants in the soil. During the Bicentennial, towns would receive requests from current residents to be buried in these historic cemeteries. Many of the archaeological projects of the time were efforts to find available space in the cemetery. Town officials were concerned about disturbing existing graves left unmarked because stones had been lost. Compounding the challenge of unmarked graves was the early use of wooden markers that did not last and the sometimes arbitrary relocation of fallen gravestones. Along the river, there would be a ferry landing and a mill for grinding grains such as corn. Businesses such as a tavern and blacksmith shop would be established along the road used to access the town site and connect the residential properties. When roads replaced rivers and railroad traffic overtook road traffic, the town center would move. One town might have three old cemeteries indicative of former town centers. Older cemeteries continued to be used for a time and by certain families after the new cemetery was established. During the 1970s, single cemeteries were studied and conclusions about designs and families were drawn. Scholars at the time did not have an easy way of determining how many markers and stones had already been lost. The earliest markers were of wood, which deteriorated, and a few early cemeteries were too close to the rivers and have washed away. One may conclude that interpretations were skewed by historical data selection. Students of these cemeteries today have the technology to remap the graves and possible activity areas. Buried stones can be found. What is left to study could be a small sample of the gravestones and activity patterns from the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.

The Use of Cemetery Data The context of the New England cemetery is vital to understanding the importance of the cemetery in preserving a broad range of cultural infor-

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mation. Having identified the categories and types of data that may be found, the following will give brief examples of how the data can be used. The brief description of central place theory is an example of a macro tool for using cemetery data. Data users range from a young person with an interest in history to an advanced academic theorist. Data need to be preserved and organized in such a way that they are accessible to people of all levels of interest. There are many reasons for cemetery information to be preserved. For a more complete discussion, Baugher and Veit have written a good summary of gravestone research (Baugher and Veit 2015: 78–124). An example of using one element of the gravestone is the epitaph, sometimes a source of unexpected humor. From rather pithy inscriptions, we may learn something of the lived experience of both the deceased and the survivors who cared enough to honor them with a commemorative marker and special plots of earth. Some suggest that our knowledge of certain death drove humans to imagine a literal or symbolic life beyond death that was supported and nurtured through various constructs of culture, society, religion, language, and story (Greene 2020: 115–116). It seems, then, a profoundly human way to deflect the sting of death is by harnessing our imaginative consciousness to proclaim the “bright side of death” (Idle 1989) through a humorous line or motif. An internet search as well as printed compilations of graveyard humor might lead one to believe that this motif is common. Baugher and Veit (2015: 190–193) describe Romany gravestones with humorous inscriptions or references at a frequency not seen in other ethnic groups, such as “You have to lose some to win” or “Couldn’t happen to a nicer guy.” In Romania, the “Merry Cemetery” has only markers with light-hearted descriptions of occupation and lifestyle. So the town drunk’s marker pictures him drinking from his bottle of “real poison” and remembered with these details: Ioan Toaderu loved horses One more thing he loved very much To sit at a table in a bar Next to someone else’s wife. (Atlas Obscura 2020)

Humorous epitaphs are not common and are generally scattered around a cemetery, and so their appearance catches our eye, slows our step, and prods wistful reflection. What we do not know is whether this comic relief is the intent of the deceased, the sentiment of a loved relative, or the retaliation of a rival. Humor in the graveyard appears in several ways. We find epitaphs from the 1800s that are self-deprecating like that of Samuel McCracken (Morrisville Cemetery, Morrisville, Pennsylvania):

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If leading politicians and priests all go to heaven I am bound to stop at some other station (Find a Grave 2020a);

or an ironic memorial like that for Ellen Shannon (Church Street Cemetery, Girard, Pennsylvania), who perished early in life: By the explosion of a lamp Filled with R.E. Danforth’s Non-explosive burning fluid (The Last Laugh 2005: 6);

or a marker with an apology from local folks for a miscarriage of justice like that for George Johnson (Boot Hill Cemetery, Tombstone, Arizona): He was right / We was wrong But we strung / Him up And now he’s / Gone (The Last Laugh 2005: 16);

or an oft-repeated refrain of indignation against scolding wives, as found in a Burlington, Massachusetts, cemetery: Sacred to the memory of Anthony Drake Who died for peace and quietness’ sake His wife was constantly scolding and scoffing So he sought repose in a twelve dollar coffin. (Macrae 1897)

Sometimes the name of the deceased lends itself to a quirky rejoinder. So we find in Hondo Valley Memorial Park (Ruidoso, New Mexico) a burial site proclaiming “Here lies John Yeast / Pardon me for not rising.” The stone itself may spur a sarcastic view of death such as that of pop artist Patrick Caulfield (Highgate Cemetery East, London), whose marker is an austere gray block with bold cut-out letters spelling “D-E-A-D” on the diagonal (Find a Grave 2020c, 2020b). In the context of data preservation and recording reviewed earlier, one must be aware that many internet sites have questionable data and obviously fabricated gravestones, often as decorative ideas for Halloween parties or other themed gatherings but sometimes presented as actual tombstones. In the above examples, Steffen tried to retrieve visual confirmation of the epitaphs or to use already published sources. Thus, integrity of data is important before committing to the expense of digitization and archiving for further study. Attention to these fascinating quotes reinforces our personal victory over an ultimate demise that “cannot extinguish one of the things that makes us uniquely human—our sense of humor” (The Last Laugh 2005:5). Many single purpose efforts have recorded cemetery information over time. For example, genealogists have often recorded only the name, and

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birth and death dates and put them in alphabetical order. Genealogical studies give an account of the relationships of individuals and families from a common ancestor, so names and dates are critical data elements. Recording by name is good for genealogical searches and family histories as well for identifying the graves of veterans. In the years after the Bicentennial, with increasing frequency, veterans’ graves were marked with medallions and, on certain occasions, with flags. Some museum and conservation professionals have treated gravestones as artifacts. The cemetery is noted, and the stone conserved and displayed in isolation as a work of art. The contextual information may focus on the design motif or the individual carver. Antique dealers have acquired stones and treated them as works of art. Archaeologists working on cultural resource management projects or salvage projects often only worked within the perceived boundary of the cemetery or limited project impact area. Gravestones and grave remains may be removed and moved. Design motifs are studied as art and as a reflection of the religion and philosophy of the time. The design and text may reflect the idiosyncratic personalities of the living and the dead, for example, with the use of humor. Stone carvers were artists, artisans, and merchants engaged in trade, purchasing stones from different areas and selling carved stones in other areas. For example, in New Hampshire, some stones were carved in Connecticut on stone purchased in Vermont. The records of the carvers and identification of their work in cemeteries can be an indicator of larger patterns of trade and economic development. Literary studies address the text of the stone, spelling, grammar, common first names, and poetry. The order of names on the stones, generally the husband or wife listed first and, in the case of a widower, subsequent wives reflect local cultural attitudes. Population studies such as particularly fatal flu epidemics can be suggested. Gravestones have information about age, sex, health, cause of death, child mortality, seasonality of death, and the spread of disease. Occupations may be on the gravestone and tell something of the economic profile of an area. The location of gravestones relative one to another can tell something about families and who was buried near or distant from whom. The movement of families across the landscape can be traced by learning which cemeteries have the same family’s burials. Within the cemetery, another special pattern relates to the economic status of the deceased. Wealthy people in New England were often buried in the front of the cemetery or on the highest part of the cemetery. The size of a gravestone and the intricacy of the design and lettering can be indicators of wealth. Some cemeteries have separate sections for people of different religions or cultural identities.

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Digitization The challenge now is to find and digitize data from the 1970s. Selection of a digital storage program for the data elements must consider the plethora of potential questions from a range of interested individuals and groups. The digital storage system must have a long-term objective for the preservation of the data. Ideally, for the data to be useful, the archival method must allow for searching. After reviewing a number of possible places to store the data for these cemeteries, the repository at Arizona State University was selected. Although at this time the search capability of the Digital Archaeology Record (tDAR) is limited for images of notebook pages and other image data, the effort has a long-term perspective and increasing technological capabilities. tDAR is a digital repository designed by archaeologists for the long-term preservation and archiving of data. tDAR is managed by the Center for Digital Antiquity at Arizona State University. Founded in 2010 with the assistance of a grant from the Andrew W. Mellon Foundation and National Science Foundation, tDAR is designed to be a secure archive for archaeological data so that it can be both reused and preserved for the public and other researchers. Files related to this cemetery project will be uploaded to this repository. tDAR allows uploaders to determine the fields to facilitate advanced searching of materials. Resources within tDAR will be assigned a Digital Object Identifier number (DOI) that will allow for persistent identification of material and will link to the files. Resources will be made publicly available for download and use. The institutionalization and digitization of the data should allow for the preservation of the files and access for research beyond what local historical societies and libraries of the 1970s could provide. The foresight of the Pelham Historical Society, which scanned and shared on the internet a typed report from 1976, not only preserved but also disseminated the information for the two Merrimack cemeteries.

Conclusions Cemetery data have the potential to answer a broad range of research questions. Unfortunately, as the examples of three New Hampshire cemeteries show, gravestones and cemetery reports are being lost. The loss of gravestones has more to do with the actions of people than with the forces of nature. Well-meaning efforts to clean stones and the impact of landscapers have had a deleterious effect on the number and readability of gravestones. The societal value of history has hopefully decreased the rate of loss of the cemeteries themselves.

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Cemeteries were the subject of study during the 1970s in preparation for the American Bicentennial and by Deetz and Dethlefsen for the study of design motifs and stone carvers. Data were collected in many forms including written notes, photographs, and maps. Some projects collected only certain data to answer certain questions. Some projects were broad in scope and collected a broad range of cemetery-specific information as well as information about the cemetery in a larger setting. The loss of past documentation and reports may be attributed to the deterioration and deaccessioning and disposal of paper files. Changes to computer data storage technology is also a contributing factor. Gravestones and data recorded during the 1970s are disappearing. To preserve the information, efforts should be made to digitize in a functional format whatever can be found. The Digital Archaeology Record (tDAR) managed by the Center for Digital Antiquity at Arizona State University is an excellent option for preserving cemetery data and will be used to store the data that still survive for the three New Hampshire cemeteries discussed above.

Anne G. Giesecke is a retired anthropologist and archaeologist. Giesecke began doing archaeology in 1972. Her PhD is from Catholic University of America in Washington, DC. She has worked on prehistoric and historic sites, as well as historic shipwrecks. Giesecke drafted the Abandoned Shipwreck Act, participated in drafting the International Convention for the Protection of Underwater Cultural Heritage, and has written extensively as an advocate for the protection of submerged cultural resources. In Washington, DC, for twenty-seven years, she worked for the Department of the Interior, the Environmental Protection Agency, at the House of Representatives, and for a not-for-profit organization. Dan G. Steffen is a retired physiologist who has taken an interest in archaeology. Steffen worked for food companies for thirty-six years researching nutritional questions and commenting on Food and Drug Administration regulations. After his marriage to Anne Giesecke, he began doing archaeological field research, first on a historic shipwreck and then in cemeteries. His PhD is from the University of Missouri–Columbia.

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References Baugher, S., and R. F. Veit. 2015. The Archaeology of American Cemeteries and Gravemarkers. Gainesville: University Press of Florida. Cemetery Conservators for United Standards. 2020. “Cleaning Basics.” Retrieved 7 March 2023 from https://cemeteryconservatorsunitedstandards.org/stand ards/cleaning/. Deetz, J., and E. Dethlefsen. 1965. “The Doppler Effect and Archaeology: A Consideration of the Spatial Aspects of Seriation.” Southwestern Journal of Anthropology 21(3): 196–206. Find a Grave. 2020a. Retrieved 28 September 2020 from https://www.findagrave .com/memorial/10434171/samuel-mccracken. ———. 2020b. https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/31961892/patrick-josephcaulfield. ———. 2020c. https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/142077670/john-yeast. Greene, B. 2020. Until the End of Time: Mind, Matter, and Our Search for Meaning in an Evolving Universe. New York: Alfred A. Knopf Books. Idle, E. 1989. “Always Look on the Bright Side of Life.” Monty Python Sings. Canada: Kay Gee Bee Music, Ltd. Retrieved 20 September 2020 from https:// en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monty_Python Sings. Macrae, D. 1897. “A Pennyworth of Queer Epitaphs.” Pennyworth Series. Retrieved 20 September 2020 from http://elfinspell.com/Humor/PennyworthSeries/ APennyworthOfQueerEpitaphs.html. Mytum, H. 2000. International Monument Recording System by the Council for British Archaeology. New Hampshire Division of Historical Resources. 2020 “About Us.” Retrieved 14 September 2020 from https://www.nh.gov/nhdhr/about.html. Pelham Historical Society. 2020. “Pelham Vital Records.” Retrieved 14 September 2020 from http://www.pelhamnhhistory.org/library/onlinelibrary_lib1.html #Gravestones. The Last Laugh. 2005. Stansted: Marlin Press. “The Merry Cemetery.” 2020. Atlas Obscura website. Retrieved 29 September 2020 from https://www.atlasobscura.com/places/merry-cemetery.

CHAPTER 6

An International Mortuary Monument Recording System From Site Analysis to International Comparative Studies Harold Mytum

Introduction The tradition of recording memorials stretches back to the seventeenth century, but for much of this time the emphasis has been on the recording of text, particularly for those from elite backgrounds. The earliest transcriptions concentrated on internal memorials and the only material elements that were described, and sometimes illustrated, were those of heraldry. These records have proved invaluable for demonstrating the presence and some aspects of the character of memorials, as many of these monuments have been cleared away either to make room for later monuments or as a by-product of restoration schemes in the churches where they had been placed (Mytum 2006). Because these records were selective, often only focusing on those monuments considered to represent the most important families, they do not provide evidence for the scale of commemoration but do indicate the rate of loss for the sorts of monuments that were recorded. The other major impetus for recording has been family history, where genealogists following the traditions already described have noted names and dates of the deceased recorded on the monuments. In many cases, these transcriptions have included more text than just the names and dates but rarely have been consistent in copying all elements of the inscription. Many remain unpublished and either unavailable, deposited in archives, or available for sale by family history societies, but some are published, particularly in local historical and archaeological journals in Scotland and Ireland. We therefore have an extremely variable record from these

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sources, though they do have some value to archaeologists in demonstrating the time span of commemoration at many burial grounds. In recent years, many family history recorders have also taken digital photographs of the memorials, and these do provide an albeit limited source for the analysis of their material form and decoration, as they are often included alongside the transcriptions in CDs that groups have for sale. Archaeologists have been researching burial monuments of the historic period in an extensive way since the 1970s, but each project has tended to develop its own recording methodology, and rarely has there been consideration for archiving the data for others to use. Indeed, many of the published interpretations deriving from archaeological fieldwork provide very little information on the methods of recording and any criteria used to categorize and select the evidence recovered during the project. While this lack of detail regarding data collection may not undermine the value of such studies, it does prevent some aspects of critical appraisal and inhibits reuse and further work providing a direct comparison using a different data set. This lack of methodological clarity is reflected in the styles of interpretation in the few syntheses of memorials that do not have comparative data tables or measured trends (Mytum 2004; Baugher and Veit 2014). Whereas archaeological excavation has, within the various regional and national traditions, developed a clear set of methodologies that are explicitly followed or adapted for each project, this arrangement has not traditionally been the case for graveyard studies. While the number of projects being undertaken has been few and well scattered, the limitations in comparative study potential for memorials has not been perceived as a problem. Art historical and folklife studies with an emphasis on carver identification require only high-quality photographs for successful comparative analysis. Archaeological studies of monument form and symbol, and anthropological analysis of text, including ideology kinship and identity, require the same methodology to be applied across all data sets to be effective. In the United Kingdom, the standardization of excavation recording that was, with minor adaptations, adopted across the country took place during the expansion of excavation with the rescue movement of the 1970s (Spence 1993). This measure consolidated further as the field profession grew and developed in the following decade, largely linked to the adoption of the Harris matrix form of stratigraphic analysis and the hybrid functionalist and culture historical paradigm that was becoming the standard approach to British archaeological research (Roskams 2001). British archaeology became fully accepting of the positive value of standardization in recording, so that comparison could be made between sites and also so that post-excavation processes could be standardized. Although the previously accepted principle of “preservation by

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record” is now seen as simplistic (Andrews et al. 2000; Thomas 2019), the advantages of common standardized data collection—whatever project-specific objectives might affect excavation strategy, sampling, and subsequent analysis—are still widely accepted and applied (MOLA 1994; Carver 2009; ROMFA n.d.).

Archaeological Approaches to Monument Recording Academic studies of memorials that have developed individual monument classification schemes have generally tended to use very broad categories for memorials that vary greatly in detail. Most published studies have come from single researchers visiting numerous burial grounds, rapidly collecting data regarding a limited range of attributes of the monuments, and for specific research purposes. The typologies applied have often been illustrated by simple sketch drawings and allowed broad-brush patterns to be identified and interpreted. Such studies have been impressive in ambition and the level of interpretation they have achieved, but it is not easy for others to build upon these individual studies. The process of independent invention of classificatory schemes is evidenced in the British Isles (Cannon 1986), North America (Norris 1988; Mallios and Caterino 2007), and Australia, though for New South Wales a more elaborate typology of form was created and applied across a number of sites (NTNSW n.d.; Dunn 1991). The scheme discussed in this chapter is more complex, has a hierarchical structure for typology, and includes more categories of attribute that any other system. It is possible, however, to re-engineer the old data sets, albeit with the limitations inherent in the original classification, in the new system. Indeed, for Australia, a concordance of coding has already been published for the New South Wales typology (Mytum 2020c). Experiments by Philip Rahtz at the University of Birmingham in the recording of churchyard memorials led one of his students to create a recording system using A5 double-sided cards with set data fields, space for the inscription, and room to affix a photographic print of the memorial. The cards and accompanying guidance booklet were produced by the Council for British Archaeology (Jones 1976) so that both avocational and professional archaeologists could carry out efficient recording of burial ground memorials. Jones’s system was relatively simple and was not accompanied by a standardized memorial symbol or material coding, but relied on verbal description supported by measurements of height, width, and so forth. A number of sites were recorded using this system, but sadly few published studies resulted from this work. Nevertheless, Rahtz influenced Shoesmith’s (1980) archaeological study of memorials in their

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context at Llangar, which moved the subject beyond the art historical analyses that were already in print. The Jones system soon revealed some of the limitations of using A5 cards and relying on verbal descriptions only. Although an apparent consistency of data collection was given by the card’s format, comparative study was still largely impossible. To address this issue, the author devised a more elaborate recording system using one side of A4 sheets to create a record that was supported by a system of data coding that enabled entry into computer systems. The early trial versions of these forms and codes were used effectively to amass and compare significant data sets from burial grounds, each with up to five hundred memorials, and enabled comparison between a number of memorial assemblages totaling over two thousand monuments at sites across a region of Pembrokeshire that were recorded in the project (Mytum 1994, 2002a). This effort demonstrated the value of standardization and coding and led to further refinement of the system that was then published as the new, recommended, national recording system by the Council for British Archaeology (Mytum 2000). The handbook for this methodology was reprinted once with some emendations, but soon became unavailable, as there was considerable demand from many local groups, individual recorders, and professional archaeologists. Further research and field work by the author, including recording projects in North America and Australia, indicated some gaps in the coding system, which were also demonstrated when considered in relation to the more multicultural burial and commemorative practices becoming increasingly common in Britain. There was clearly a need for a revised version of the existing recording system, and this was combined with the recognition of another structural weakness in the collection and dissemination of memorial records. Although many groups and individuals had purchased the handbook, and at least some had followed up this purchase with burial ground surveys, there was no system of knowing which sites had been recorded or by whom. Moreover, there was no apparent system of archiving the data for posterity. English Heritage, now renamed Historic England, had supported the Council for British archaeology initiative in publishing the handbook, but were also concerned that no publicly available archive of any data collected using the methodology was available to others. In contrast to excavation archives, which were deposited with the finds at local museums, there was no consistent acceptance of the memorial recording forms by the equivalent manuscript-archiving institutions. It appeared that these records were orphaned, having no repository prepared to accept them. To assess the archiving situation, and evaluate the extent to which the data, designed to be entered into spreadsheets, was stored digitally, Historic England set up a project to investigate the situation across

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England. The study revealed that, among local authorities, archives, and cemetery friends’ groups, there was limited appreciation of digital archiving for memorial records, little enthusiasm for archiving the paper records and making them publicly accessible, and a clear danger that much effort would be wasted in the long term as these resources became lost (Mytum et al. 2015). Assessment of the state of memorial recording revealed weaknesses in the system, so a further project was commissioned by Historic England to create a digital solution that enhanced data collection and, particularly, archiving of those data sets. Some aspects of this project, called the Discovering England’s Burial Spaces (DEBS) are reported by Pillatt et al. in this volume (see Chapter 11). As part of that project, the author updated the CBA guidance, not only making it suitable for England, and indeed the British Isles, but also giving it the potential for international application (Mytum 2019). The ongoing revision of the recording system had already been tested in North America (2020b) and Australia (Mytum 2020b, c), and the version produced for DEBS further systematized this international application.

The Revised Recording System The recording system comprises several key elements, laid out on a singlesided form (Figure 6.1), from which data can be entered into an Excel spreadsheet. The details of the revised spreadsheet and the potential for subsequent archiving of the data is explained in chapter 11 by Pillatt et al. The top left of the form has some standard information about the location of the burial ground, its character, and when the record is made and by whom; the rest of the left side is available for a detailed transcription of the text found on the memorial. The right side of the form is for codified and measurement data. This is set up in an order that allows easy entry into the spreadsheet as the layout running down the form matches that running from left to right in the spreadsheet. (This part of the form will be described and discussed in more detail.) For all elements of the form, however, much more detailed guidance is provided online (Mytum 2019). The burial ground name code allows the assemblage from one site to be identifiable when data sets are combined and is a familiar element of the site coding used in archaeological excavation. Likewise, the memorial number has the same analytical status as that of a context. The combination of site code and memorial number creates a unique identifier for every monument. Because many memorials have been recorded previously by other groups such as family history societies, or there may be

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Figure 6.1. Memorial recording form. Image created by Harold Mytum.

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a system of grave recording by the burial ground management, there is room on the form for the existing memorial number from another system to be entered. This format allows the archaeological recording to be cross referenced with that of previous or current records, ensuring effective concordance of different sources and enabling easy use of the new record by those familiar with other systems. The denomination of the burial area is coded, because this may be an important variable in data selection; cemeteries may have distinct areas for each denomination. The comparison of memorial strategies between denominations at a regional level has been facilitated by this type of coding (Mytum 2002a; 2009). A new field for the form is for recording the memorial number of the plot if it is part of a complex. The previous system treated each memorial as an individual entity, but in Britain and Europe and in North America, a plot with a complex set of memorials requires multilevel recording. Therefore, the plot as a whole can receive one number, and can be recorded in terms of how it may be defined and its measurements, but then each monument within that space can have its own separate memorial number, description, and record. Such memorial burial plots are common in North American cemeteries, but they have become increasingly popular elsewhere in the English-speaking world where the more efficient use of burial plots and the insertion of cremation remains in the top of otherwise full family plots means that the often relatively small headstone memorials originally erected are insufficient to commemorate all those interred in such spaces. The addition of plaques, inscribed vases, and other monuments on the plot can now all be recorded separately as required. Other paraphernalia on plots, such as flowers, plantings of shrubs, statuary, lamps, and other votive items can be noted under comments but have not been part of the recording process for this form. It would be easy to add further sections for coding at the bottom of the list of attributes if this were a significant part of the research focus. Analysis of the data depends on its quality, and so the next two fields record condition—first of the monument as an artifact, then the inscription as a text that provides key information about individuals and the potential date of the monument itself. This allows the data to be sorted so that, if required, only data of a certain quality is included in the analysis. The next group of fields on the form represent measurements, all in mm, which provide the dimensions of the memorial and of any base on which the commemorative text may be set. These measurements apply not only to headstones, but also to all memorial types and provide an important measure of the volume and, particularly, the height of the monuments. The one remaining field in this section is that of the orientation of the

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monument’s primary inscription. This is provided in degrees, taken to indicate the way that the inscription is facing, 180 degrees opposite to that of the viewer of the inscription. This information allows an understanding of the importance of orientation in a burial ground as a whole, or in sections where theological priorities regarding body orientation may be overtaken by social needs for legibility of the commemorative text. The next set of fields on the form involves the use of coding that is supported by an extensive set of coding sheets that can be taken into the field for reference (Figure 6.2). This coding is set at a level of complexity that matches the standard archaeological needs of many recording projects, but could in some cases be considerably enhanced with additional recording by those particularly interested in the subject of some of the fields. As with all archaeological recording, a balance must be struck between lumping and splitting, not enough detail for subsequent analysis versus overly complex recording, which is both slow and liable to greater error. Some of these coding decisions are hierarchical, and can be recorded at different levels of detail. This is deliberate, both to accommodate different research interests and to recognize limitations in time and skills of the recording team. The first field is that of materials of the monument. In many cases, the memorial will consist of only one material such as slate, granite, or cast iron. However, many memorials are more complex and contain elements of the main structure in different materials, or have decorative inserts that create an important visual impact on those visiting the grave. The form allows room for four materials to be listed but, in a few cases, this will be insufficient, and so additional materials can be noted in the comments box in the bottom right of the form. The reason that it is not advisable to include additional materials in the main part of the form is that the spreadsheet displays four fields for this category of attribute. To add another field in the data set from one site would make combining data sets with others that have the four fields problematic. As computing software becomes more intuitive and flexible, it is likely that these issues could be overcome, but Excel—as it is now available—does not have such features. The advantage of satisfying many at the expense of a few not fully represented in the numerical data is a sacrifice worth making. The most complicated field to record is that of monument type. The diversity of memorial forms is well known to anyone who visits burial grounds. While headstones may be the most common type in most burial areas, the variability within this category is enormous, and can include substantial or very subtle variations that are still potentially highly significant. Beyond headstones, memorials can be extremely variable within many other categories, notably tombs and crosses. The approach taken in this classification scheme follows that of its original design, with a hier-

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Figure 6.2. Memorial recording code sheet—example page showing hierarchical tomb recording. Image created by Harold Mytum.

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archical system that is effective for all of these categories of monuments. The recording documentation is extensive for this recording field (Mytum 2019), but it is worth examining the decision-making process to allocate a monument type number for a couple of examples—headstone and tomb. The four-digit number of the headstone allows three levels of hierarchical classificatory stages (Figure 6.3). If no differentiation of headstone morphology is to be given, or the shape is impossible to classify within the system, then 4000 is assigned. The 4000, 5000, and 6000 classifications are used for most headstones. The lower numbers define the basic shapes, concentrating on the central top profile of the stone. The third digit of the number is primarily used to indicate indented sides, but it is also applied if the shape is repeated on the top of the stone, as occurs where several columns of text may form part of the design. The third digit can also be used to indicate the incorporation of a scroll in the design or the presence of a small cross on top, as is most common in Roman Catholic memorials. The final digit of the coding relates to the shoulders of the headstone. This portion of the memorial is often the most complex, so this category often requires some grouping of similar memorials into the same code. The basic principle of the shoulder coding is illustrated in Figure 6.4. Here, a range of basic shapes and mouldings are each given a distinct code. Sometimes, the shape is repeated several times but still has the relevant single digit code. Some headstones contain a combination of differently numbered profile elements on the shoulder, and these are the most problematic to define. The recorder needs to consider the whole profile, and to decide what is the overall emphasis of the design and code accordingly. Any further refined analysis is easily possible by selecting the appropriate codes from the data set and comparing their digital photographs or sketches on the forms for more detailed classificatory study. This is an example of where the system’s ability to split is limited, and there is an inevitable amount of lumping of similar but not identical monuments under the same four-digit code. More modern memorial forms, which are more block-like, are ascribed 8000 numbers, as are a variety of other forms most commonly found in the twentieth- to twenty-first-century areas of a burial ground. If a study of headstones is to include these along with earlier monuments, any selection of codes to be considered in analysis would have to include some of these higher numbers. The system has not been designed to cope with some of the contemporary variability in memorials that can be seen in cemeteries. It has been primarily constructed to accommodate projects analyzing twentieth-century and earlier monuments. The coding for tombs is similar to that for headstones, though it has some additional numbers for types that partially contain the human re-

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Figure 6.3. Hierarchical headstone recording. Image created by Harold Mytum.

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mains rather than just being structures on top of the burial vault or earthdug graves. Most historic tombs comprise either chest, sometimes called altar, tombs with solid side and end panels, or table tombs with the horizontal inscribed slab set on four or six legs. All these tombs are coded 1000, which can be subdivided using the second and third digits. For chest tombs, these describe the nature of the tomb sides and, for table tombs, the number and character of the legs. The final digit of the code records the profile of the edge of the top slab or, if not flat, its profile. Detailed studies may require more accurate profile drawings or recording of the nature of side panels, but this classification is sufficient for most analysis given that, at any one site, the number of each tomb type will be small. Tombs that also function as mausolea have been accommodated more fully in the revised recording system described here. Those monuments, often found in Mediterranean burial grounds and in many parts of the southern states of North America. They can be accommodated within the 9000 codes, and this typology could easily be further elaborated if doing so is the focus of attention and there are sufficient memorials to justify further splitting of the classification. The detailed guidance and code sheets provide all that is required to record any form of monument, but also recognize that the main feature such as headstone, cross, or pedimented monument might have had additional elements around it; these include footstones, body stones, or kerbs. Here, curbs surrounding another monument are differentiated from curbs that are the sole monumental component, which are given their own set of codes (0900). In some regions, and for some periods, memorials define the areas to contain text with some form of border, termed a text panel. As these provide important information regarding the aesthetics and design of memorials, sometimes augmenting and emphasizing the memorial shape and style, and sometimes providing a contrasting emphasis, text panels have a relatively elaborate classificatory scheme that cannot nearly emulate the numbering of the headstone profiles because it creates closed shapes, not only a top profile. In some surveys, this section of the form will be blank for almost all memorials, but in some other areas it will be a major component of the record. The hierarchical codes define the shape and a single digit the method by which that shape is defined. The technique of inscription is given considerable space on the form, with room for four different techniques to be present. Working from the left, these data should code the techniques from the top of the monument to the bottom, allowing the complexity of manufacture and display be recorded in a systematic manner. While each technique of inscription is allocated with a single digit, up to four letter styles are given as much space but with three-digit codes. These now cover a wide range of types

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of lettering, though it must be admitted that the classification for the fonts is not fully satisfactory. The variability of inscribed lettering styles is beyond the remit of this level of coding, so this system is only designed to indicate the range of styles on a monument, and the broad classification under which the fonts may fall. Other attempts at letter classification seem both complex and equally arbitrary (Thomson 2002), and even so only cover a limited range of the lettering styles encountered over time and space. If lettering were to be a major research interest, the blank coding fields at the end of the form could be used to develop and apply a project-specific coding system that could be noted in the metadata to be deposited with any archive. The next section of the form records decorative motifs, with those centrally placed at the top of a headstone in one recording field and another field for marginal designs down the sides of the stone in a separate recording field. The coding form provides large numbers of motifs with unique three-digit codes, laid out under a series of thematic headings so that the numbering has some logic whereby searching for a block of numbers allows broader classifications to be undertaken. For example, mortality symbols are all 100s, vegetation 300s. These are all only listed by verbal descriptors, rather than by illustration, because symbols can be displayed on monuments in many varied forms and in a multiplicity of styles. It would be through the digital photography and any comments in the bottom right-hand part of the form that the more detailed analysis typically undertaken by those researching the products of individual carvers would conduct their research, though this field record would be sufficient to narrow down the search by likely monument form, popular motifs, and relevant date range for the individual producer that was the subject of any inquiry. The next three aspects of the memorial that are recorded comprise additions to the form to note the tooling on the back and sides of the monument as this element of production has, until recently, been neglected. Single digit codes provide only a broad classification here, and it may be that in future versions, once analysis using these data has been carried through, a more elaborate subdivision with two-digit numbering may be attempted. The final two fields on the form are among the most important for subsequent analysis. The first assigns a date to the monument, and the second a reason for that date being given. While memorials often contain one or more dates of death, only occasionally do they state explicitly the date of the monument’s erection. Therefore, an inference has to be made concerning the date of the monument, based on a range of criteria (Mytum 2002b). Where several individuals are commemorated on the same monument, with dates spread over decades, it is necessary to decide

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whether the first death listed on the stone indicates the date, or whether a group of individuals were placed on the monument when it was first erected. Memorials can have a complex life history with a number of what have been termed inscriptional events creating a long linear text on the face of a headstone, on various sides and steps of a cross base, or on the different panels on the sides and the top of a tomb. It is important for understanding the development of monument forms and styles over time for the initial construction date to be decided. The form allows for this; but also by coding the criterion by which this date has been attributed, researchers may decide which monuments they would like to revisit themselves, or may leave certain coded categories out of any analysis completely (e.g., 9: Dates of those commemorated not relevant to monument date). The advice documentation gives attention to how recorders might go about deciding the date of the monument, and how it should therefore be coded. All the information provided on the form can be entered into the spreadsheet and then be made available for analysis. The complexity of the data being collected might seem to impede the process of a recording project, but students or volunteers can, after only a couple of days learning the system, complete ten to twenty forms in a day. The variability in completion is due to the complexity of the monuments, combined with the state of preservation of, for example, any inscriptions. It is thus possible for a small team to rapidly record a burial ground with a few hundred monuments. With this richness of data, it is possible to analyze relationships between variables as well as consider changes in one variable over time.

Analytical Advantages of a Consistent Recording System Large-scale recording projects that have been conducted by a single scholar or a small team have demonstrated that comparative analysis of assemblages at different sites can be highly revealing. These, however, have been rare and stand in isolation, unable to be built upon by others. The need for a different scale of analysis coming from a diverse set of recorders has been recognized, and Streb et al. (Chapter 3.2) indicate one strategy for a particular type of memorial found in parts of Europe. The system described here provides for a much wider range of monuments than any other scheme, and indeed has flexibility to allow the development of aspects of the recording to tailor to individual research needs including those found widely in Europe and well as Britain and Ireland and across the globe including North America and Australia. This adaptation can be achieved while collecting much core data that can be used by many, in the same way that much excavation data regarding contexts is now recorded.

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A

B

C

D

Figure 6.4. International comparison of typology. Form 5107 used across the globe. A: Trafalgar Cemetery, Gibraltar; B: Newport, Pembrokeshire, Wales; C: Steele Creek, North Carolina; D: St. John’s Burial ground, Parramatta, Australia. © Harold Mytum.

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One advantage of a standard system is the comparison of the presence and popularity of particular monument types over time and space. One of the most widespread monument forms, particularly in early nineteenth century, is that of 5107 (Figure 6.4), which occurs over similar time periods in Britain and Ireland, but also colonies such as Gibraltar and Australia, as well as in North America (Mytum 2003). This Georgian period headstone style can be mirrored in the form of some internal monuments and domestic furniture and fittings, and represents a widespread aesthetic disseminated through the movement of people in migration and trade, but also through widespread distribution of books and illustrations, which meant that this shape could be applied to headstones by many independent carvers across the globe and was acceptable to their varied clienteles. Regional similarities in choice of decorative motifs, but also variations linked to denominational differences, has been demonstrated in regional studies (Mytum 2002a, 2009), emphasizing the advantages of standardization. If more recorders follow the same methodology, then more widespread and more sophisticated comparative studies can be undertaken. Individual studies have a value, but archaeologists appreciate the importance of comparative data and investigating over a range of spatial and temporal scales. A standard recording system can enable this for memorials in the same way that ceramics or glass artifacts can be recorded using agreed typologies and descriptors. Trends over time can be compared—for example, the shift from local stone sources to the imported rocks of granite and marble. In many regions, the local sources were rarely chosen by the middle of the twentieth century, but the origins of the trends can be discerned across many sites. Some trends are best revealed through displaying percentages of materials by decade, thereby negating the effects of variable numbers of monuments through time (provided the researcher is satisfied that the sample size for each decade is sufficient). The late nineteenth century and beginning of the twentieth century were when in both Rookwood Cemetery, Sydney, and Yorkshire churchyards both granite and marble make their appearance and begin to grow in popularity (Figure 6.5). These samples represent populations on opposite sides of the globe, and with different supply opportunities and sources, yet they display the same trends in popularity, indicating that shifting demand had to be satisfied by the monumental masons. The choice of non-local materials also had consequences for the monument types that appeared in the burial grounds, and the forms of decoration associated with them. The comparative approach allows any local or regional factors in explaining change to be compared to those elsewhere. It also highlights larger-scale forces such as the development of technologies and organizational structures that enabled investment in specialist

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Figure 6.5. From site-level to comparative analysis. Introduction of granite and marble as materials for memorials and the reduction in the use of the local stone. Top: Old Presbyterian Section, Rookwood cemetery, Sydney, Australia. Bottom: Sample of Yorkshire graveyards, England. Image created by Harold Mytum.

monument production near the quarry sources and the marketing and distribution systems that created and satisfied demand for new products. The monument industry today is a global network, and these longdistance transfers of ideas and craftsmen from the seventeenth century onward, and then with memorial blanks moving in increasing numbers in the eighteenth, and particularly from the later nineteenth century onward, give context to the current global memorial trade. The use of a standardized recording system will enable previously unrecognized connections to be established, and new fieldworkers and researchers can rapidly arrange their data sets in comparison to others already available. The archiving of standardized data sets, such as through the UK’s Archaeology Data Service (Pillatt et al., Chapter 11), means that research data can be curated for the benefit of others. Rather than each new project having to stand on its own, memorial recording can now more closely match other artifact research in having a standard basic methodology. Further questions may be asked by particular researchers,

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but as with excavation records by context and finds catalogs, a set of comparative data can be the core of any data set. Harold Mytum is Professor of Archaeology, University of Liverpool, and was previously head of the Department of Archaeology, University of York. His research interests include investigating identity and memory through settlement and mortuary evidence (17th–20th centuries). He has led archaeological projects recording graveyards and their monuments for over forty years, and developed the standard method of recording monuments originally published in Recording and Analysing Graveyards (2000). Harold was a member of the DEBS project and redesigned and updated his recording scheme which can now act as a global standard for memorial recording; full details of the updated system with forms and advice documentation can be found on the DEBS web site.

References Andrews, G., J. C. Barrett, and J. S. Lewis. 2000. “Interpretation Not Record: the Practice of Archaeology.” Antiquity 74(285): 525–530. Baugher, S., and R. Veit. 2014. The Archaeology of American Cemeteries and Gravemarkers. Gainesville: University of Florida Press. Cannon, A. 1986. “Socioeconomic Change and Material Culture Diversity: Nineteenth Century Grave Monuments in Rural Cambridgeshire.” PhD dissertation, University of Cambridge. https://doi.org/10.17863/CAM.20126 Carver, M. 2009. Archaeological Investigation. London: Routledge. Dunn, J. 1991. The Parramatta Cemeteries. St. John’s. Parramatta: Parramatta and District Historical Society. Jones, J. 1976. How to Record Graveyards. London: Rescue, Trust for British Archaeology and the Council for British Archaeology. Reprinted 1979, 1984. Mallios, S., and D. Caterino. 2007. “Transformations in San Diego County Gravestones and Cemeteries.” Historical Archaeology 41(4): 50–71. MOLA (Museum of London Archaeology Service). 1994. Archaeological Site Manual. 3rd ed. London: Museum of London. Mytum, H. 1994. “Language as Symbol in Churchyard Monuments: The Use of Welsh in Nineteenth- and Twentieth-Century Pembrokeshire.” World Archaeology 26(2): 252–267. ———. 2000. Recording and Analysing Graveyards. Council for British Archaeology Handbook 15. York: Council for British Archaeology. ———. 2002a. “A Comparison of Nineteenth and Twentieth Century Anglican and Nonconformist Memorials in North Pembrokeshire.” The Archaeological Journal 159: 194–241. ———. 2002b. “The Dating of Graveyard Memorials: The Evidence from the Stones.” Post-medieval Archaeology 36: 1–38. ———. 2003. “Death and Remembrance in the Colonial Context.” In The Archaeology of the British, ed. S. Lawrence, 156–173. London: Routledge.

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———. 2004. Mortuary Monuments and Burial Grounds of the Historic Period. New York: Kluwer/Plenum and Springer. ———. 2006. “Popular Attitudes to Memory, the Body, and Social Identity: the Rise of External Commemoration in Britain, Ireland, and New England.” Postmedieval Archaeology 40(1): 96–110. ———. 2009. “Mortality Symbols in Action: Protestant and Catholic Memorials in Early 18th Century West Ulster.” Historical Archaeology 43(1): 160–182. ———. 2019. “Recording and Analysing Burial Grounds Advice Documentation, Sections Carrying out a Project, Recording, Identifying Monument Types, Photography and Additional Recording, Making a Plan.” Retrieved 20 July 2021 from http://www.debs.ac.uk/. ———. 2020a. “Forgetting and Remembering: Scots and Ulster Scots Memorials in Eighteenth-Century Ulster, and Pennsylvania and Nineteenth-Century New South Wales.” In Death in the Diaspora: British and Irish Gravestones, ed. N. Evans and A. McCarthy, 14–51. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press. ———. 2020b. “Commemoration and Improvement: Parramatta St. John’s Cemetery, New South Wales, in Its Context 1788 to C. 1840.” Antiquaries Journal 100: 374–407. https://doi.org/10.1017/S0003581520000281. ———. 2020c. “The Early Development of Australian Cemetery Commemorative Strategies: Insights from Parramatta.” Australasian Historical Archaeology 38: 4–21. Mytum, H., with J. Cameron, and K. Chapman. 2015. “Developing Local Assessment Toolkits—a Scoping Study to Look at Developing a Standard Model for Recording Cemeteries and Burial Grounds.” National Heritage Protection Plan: NHPP 4D2 Cemeteries and Churchyards Project Number: 6358. Report 114/115. London: Historic England. Retrieved 20 July 2021 from https:// research.historicengland.org.uk/Report.aspx?i=15797. Norris, D. A. 1988. “Ontario Gravestones.” Markers 5: 122–149. NTNSW (National Trust New South Wales). N.d. National Trust (NSW) Cemeteries Policy Paper. Sydney: National Trust. ROMFA. N.d. “The ROMFA Archaeological Recording System.” Norwich: Norvic Archaeology. Retrieved 20 July 2021 from http://norvicarchaeology.com/Re cording.htm. Roskams, S. R. 2001. Excavation. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Shoesmith, R. 1980. “Llangar Church.” Archaeologia Cambrensis 119: 64–132. Spence, C. 1993. “Recording the Archaeology of London: the Development and Implementation of the DUA Recording System.” In Practices of Archaeological Stratigraphy, ed. E. C. Harris, M. R. Brown III, and G. J. Brown, 23–46. New York: Academic Press. Thomas, R. 2019. “It’s Not Mitigation! Policy and Practice in Development-Led Archaeology in England.” The Historic Environment: Policy & Practice 10(3–4): 328–344. Thomson, G. 2002. “Research in Inscriptional Palaeography (RIP). Scottish Tombstone Lettering 1241–1855: Methodology and Preliminary Analysis.” Proceedings of the Society of Antiquaries of Scotland 131: 349–373.

CHAPTER 7

“As Old as Pompeii or Herculaneum” Kolkata, India’s South Park Street Cemetery, an Example of Rapid Recording Richard Veit

The eye is ready to swear that it is as old as Herculaneum or Pompeii. The tombs are small houses. It is as though we walked down the streets of a town, so tall are they and so closely do they stand . . . strong man, weak woman, or somebody’s infant son aged 15 months—it is all the same. For each the squat obelisk, the defaced classic temple . . . the candlestick of brickwork—the heavy slab, the rust-eaten railings, the whopper-jawed cherubs and apoplectic angels. —Rudyard Kipling, City of Dreadful Night, 1899

Introduction For over half a century, the study of historic burial grounds and mortuary monuments has been a major theme in historical archaeology and allied disciplines. Gravemarkers and the burial places where they are found have been shown to be powerful data sets for archaeologists, art historians (Ludwig 1966; Parker and Neal 1963; Duval and Rigby 1978), genealogists, cultural geographers (Jordan 1982; Kniffen 1967), folklorists (Glassie 1968), and scholars in many allied disciplines. These studies have focused on monument form and iconography (Deetz and Dethlefsen 1965, 1967, 1971; Dethlefsen and Deetz 1966, 1967), inscriptions (Giguere 2007), trade networks (Stone 1987), and grave marker materials (Veit and Nonestied 2003). Other researchers have focused on ethnic cemeteries (Stone 2009), consumerism in the cemetery (Veit 2009), African American burial grounds (Little 1989; Garman 1994; Blouet 2010; Veit and Nonestied 2017), issues of memory and remembrance (Tarlow 1999), and personal identity. Indeed, in cemetery studies, the disciplinary boundaries between historians, art historians, anthropologists, archaeolo-

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gists, genealogists, folklorists, literary scholars, and cultural geographers, are increasingly blurred. Unlike nearly all other artifact categories, grave markers were intended to convey information both to contemporary populations and to future generations. However, gravestone studies as a field has suffered from a relatively parochial worldview. While grave markers in the United States and Western Europe (Thomson 2016), especially Great Britain (Mytum 2003, 2004), have been extensively studied, other areas, most notably Asia (Freeman 2006; O’Regan 2009), Africa, Latin America, and the Caribbean (Zucchi 1997; Gradwohl 1998; Blouet 2007, 2010; Delle and Fellows 2014; Veit and Nonestied 2014), remain less thoroughly investigated. This archaeological myopia has obscured larger patterns of commemoration and regional variation. This article works to correct that oversight by providing a model for the rapid survey of cemeteries to be employed by scholars faced with limited time windows for fieldwork. It is not meant to replace more detailed surveys as a best practice in cemetery studies (see Mytum 2003, 2004, Chapter 6 this volume; Strangstad 1995). Rather, it is presented as a method to efficiently gather basic information about historic burial grounds and to inspire researchers to study cemeteries and create useful basic data sets even under suboptimal conditions. I also argue that the data recovered from such a rapid recordation, in this case of the South Park Street Cemetery in Kolkata, India, can provide considerable, if preliminary, insights into past cultural behavior.

The South Park Street Cemetery in Context India is a country that is justifiably famous for its tombs. In Agra, the Taj Mahal, a tomb erected by Shah Jahan for his wife Mumtaz Mahal and completed in 1643 is an internationally famous UNESCO World Heritage Site. In Delhi, the magnificent Tomb of Humayan commemorates the renowned sixteenth-century Mughal Emperor. Delhi is also home to the Raj Ghat, a striking modern memorial to Mahatma Gandhi, erected at the site where he was cremated. Although these majestic and somber memorials fall squarely within the temporal bounds of modern historical archaeology, the practice of historical archaeology in the American or Anglo-American sense is uncommon in India, where rich archaeological remains, long predating the seventeenth, eighteenth, and nineteenth centuries, remain the main focus of India’s vibrant Archaeological Survey. The South Park Street Cemetery is Kolkata, India’s largest surviving eighteenth- to early nineteenth-century cemetery. Established in 1767, South Park Street Cemetery, once known as the Great Cemetery, is the resting place of the leadership of England’s colonial efforts in Bengal. It

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contains over 1,600 monuments and many more unmarked burials. The cemetery is surrounded by a plastered brick wall pierced by an Egyptian Revival gate, enclosing eight acres (Figure 7.1). The cemetery consists of four main blocks roughly equal in size and three subsidiary areas. Paths are stone near the entrance and swept earth elsewhere, and deep stone lined gutters. During the monsoon season, the cemetery is regularly inundated. An Egyptian-style gatehouse, painted pink, with a peristyle, welcomes visitors to the burial ground. Rooms in the gatehouse serve as a small shop. In guest books, visitors record their impressions. The cemetery’s surviving monuments range from enormous masonry pyramids to scaled-down Greek and Roman temples, and Hindu- and Mughal-inspired tombs. Drawing upon an eclectic commemorative vocabulary combining classical and Asian motifs, Anglo-Indian artisans erected monuments that reflect the ambitions, achievements, and tragedies experienced by the Anglo-Indian community at a time that there was considerable cross-fertilization between colonial British and local Indian society. The cemetery has seen considerable study by historians (Holloway 1986) and genealogists (BACSA 1992), but, to date, little attention has been paid to its iconography. Kolkata, formerly Calcutta, began as a British trading station or factory established in the state of Bengal in the 1600s. Today Kolkata serves as the capital of the Indian state of West Bengal. The English were initially

Figure 7.1. Interior peristyle and entrance to the South Park Street Cemetery. © Richard Veit.

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drawn to the region and India, more generally, by the possibilities of trade and commerce, especially the spice trade. In 1585, Ralph Fitch, an ambassador from Elizabeth I Queen of England, traveled to the court of Akbar, the Mughal ruler of much of North India, hoping to open trading relations. However, Akbar, busy preparing for a military expedition, did not deign to meet with Fitch (Wood 2007:200–201). At the time, the Mughal empire was at its height, ruling over 100 million people (McLeod 2015:66). A few years later, in 1600, the East India Company was chartered, and in 1657, having secured a permit from Shah Jahan, the company began trading in Bengal (Wood 2007:216). Their trade focused on cloth, made by “hundreds of thousands of highly skilled weavers, dyers, and washers” (Wood 2007:216). This trade proved incredibly lucrative and transformed not just fashion but the global economy. During the seventeenth century, the Portuguese, Dutch, and French all established factories in India. As competition grew, the British and the French increasingly came into conflict over control of the subcontinent. In 1756, the newly enthroned Nawab of Bengal, Siraj-ud-Daula, became justifiably anxious about the European presence in his kingdom, and demanded that the British and French demolish new fortifications they had constructed in Calcutta. The British refused, leading the Nawab to successfully besiege the city (Dalrymple 2019:99). Robert Clive, a former company clerk who had enlisted in the East India Company’s army and distinguished himself as an aggressive military commander, petitioned to lead a force charged with recapturing Calcutta. He was successful, and after the city’s capitulation, signed a peace treaty with Siraj-ud-Daula. Later, Clive installed Mir Jafar, the Nawab’s great-uncle, as ruler (Dalrymple 2019:120). In return, Clive was appointed the East India Company’s Governor for Bengal. He became one of the first nabobs, fantastically wealthy individuals, who had made their fortunes in India. After further conflict with Indian rulers, the East India Company’s army defeated the troops of the Emperor Shah Alam II at the Battle of Buxar in 1764 (Metcalf and Metcalf 2012:53). Soon thereafter, the emperor turned over the function of revenue collector for the states of Bengal, Bihar, and Orissa to the East India Company. This right to collect taxes, known as the diwan, established the East India Company as the de facto rulers of much of the Indian subcontinent. Calcutta was the center of English power in India during the East India Company’s reign. Dominated by Fort William, it included numerous public buildings, as well as the magnificent homes of wealthy merchants, which would give Calcutta the moniker City of Palaces (Dalrymple 2019:71). Mrs. Jemima Kindersley described it “as awkward a place as can be conceived” (Dalrymple 2019:71). Awkward or not, the profits to

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be made there were enormous; balanced only by the health risk of living in monsoon-swept Bengal. Many new immigrants found their dreams of wealth dashed by tropical diseases (Wilkinson 1972). As a result, there was a pressing need for cemeteries. Weil notes, “The English founded the Park Street burial ground to receive the casualties of the ‘sick season,’ the summer period when many Europeans succumbed to the oppressive Calcutta heat” (Weil 1992:211). The East India Company created an extensive bureaucracy to manage its investments in India. The personages who filled those bureaucratic roles are well represented in the Park Street Cemetery. There are major military leaders, scientists, large numbers of merchants, ships captains, lawyers, administrative personnel, such as mint masters, a lighthouse keeper, and a prison administrator. Doctors are common as are chaplains. These bureaucrats, their spouses and children died in large numbers, and South Park Street is their final resting place. South Park Street Cemetery was not the first European burial ground in India or even in Calcutta. Early factories or trading communities had garden cemeteries, with small numbers of burials (Krieger 2013:83). In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, Dutch, English, and Armenian immigrants established cemeteries with incredibly ornate mausoleums outside Surat, India (Weil 1992:211). These monuments featured domes, minaret-like towers, and pointed windows and doorways reflective of a hybrid style derived from local architectural forms and the baroque ornamentation then common in Europe. The South Park Street Cemetery was a true cemetery rather than a churchyard or graveyard. Indeed, as noted by Aranuva Bose, South Park Street is “one of the earliest non-church cemeteries in the world, and it was probably the largest Christian cemetery outside Europe or America in the nineteenth century. Opened in 1767 on what was previously a marshy area, the cemetery was in use until about 1830 and is now a heritage site protected by the Archaeological Survey of India (ASI)” (2019:160). It replaced an earlier graveyard associated with St. John’s Church in the Old Fort (AHPCI 2009:11). Initially, it was approached by a raised causeway and was situated in a marshy area. The raised causeway, originally known as Burial Ground Road, was later renamed Park Street after the private deer park of Sir Elijah Impey, whose house stood at the location of the present-day Loretto Convent, the sponsors of our service-learning project (APHCI 2009:11). The earliest monument in the cemetery is for a Mrs. Sarah Person, who died on 8 September 1768 (APHCI 2009:12). Eventually, the cemetery became so full of graves that a second cemetery, North Park Street Cemetery, was opened. That cemetery has been lost, though some of the marble plaques from monuments there were relocated to South Park Street Cemetery. Although

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signage indicates that the South Park Street Cemetery closed in 1790, monuments were being erected into the mid-nineteenth century (Weil 1999:210) and beyond. By the mid-nineteenth century, the Lower Circular Road Cemetery had largely replaced the South Park Street Cemetery. That cemetery remained in use into the twentieth century. It is now badly in need of restoration. The South Park Street Cemetery has gone through periods of abandonment and disrepair. By the 1970s, the cemetery was in a terrible state of disrepair. A contemporary source noted that: The grounds were used by thieves to store their loot, and vagrants lived in mausoleums whose roofs were still intact. The main paths were knee-deep in tangled weeds and grass, and, in the monsoons, slushy and muddy. The employees of the cemetery were often descendants of those employed there a hundred and more years ago, and they lived in rooms on either side of the main entrance and cared little for cleanliness or hygiene. There was no running water. There lived in the cemetery too about 40 or 50 dogs, which bred continuously and most of the puppies died of starvation. The plaster on tombs was still standing often loose and every year disintegrating further. (APHCI 2009:8)

A few years later, Geoffrey Moorehouse noted that the cemetery was filled with “sad and heavy decaying relics which are now piebald with exposed brickwork and lingering cement” (1983:210). As recently as the 1990s, Tom Weil described a visit to the cemetery, which he characterized as “overgrown with weeds and . . . faded and broken stones, many discolored by the elements and seemingly suffering from a kind of lapidary impetigo” (1992:210). When this author visited in 2014, much of the cemetery was well maintained and several monuments were in the process of being restored by the Archaeological Survey of India. Indeed, the cemetery serves as something of an urban oasis in the hustle and bustle of modern Kolkata.

Fieldwork Although well-documented for genealogical purposes (Holmes and Co. 1851; BACSA 1992), the South Park Street Cemetery has received relatively little scholarly attention (but see Curl 1993:140–145). It is roughly contemporary with the eighteenth- and nineteenth-century burial grounds that have been extensively studied in the United Kingdom (Mytum 2004; Tarlow 1999) and the United States (Forbes 1927; Deetz and Dethlefsen 1965, 1967, 1971; Tashjian and Tashjian 1974; Baugher and Veit 2014). Although laid out following a grid pattern, it differs significantly from contemporary English and American colonial burial grounds in the scale,

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construction, quality, and iconography of its monuments. Indeed, these monuments present a material reflection of the ambitions, achievements, and social mores of the English expatriate community in India during the period of East India Company rule. This chapter, based on rapid documentation, provides a preliminary analysis of the burial ground and its monuments, and argues that the markers reflect not only the incredible wealth generated by the East India trade, but also the growth of a syncretic commemorative tradition based on an international symbolic vocabulary, rooted in the early modern fascination with ancient Egypt and the classical civilizations of Greece and Rome. This symbolic vocabulary, paired with the presence of skilled Indian and Anglo-Indian craftsmen, resulted in a unique burial place that reflects a distinct period in India’s history, when a private stock company, the East India Company (Dalrymple 2019), rather than the English Crown, ruled much of India.

Methodology In January 2014, as part of a Monmouth University service learning/ study trip to India, the author and one undergraduate student, David Annun, visited the South Park Street Cemetery repeatedly over a period of one week. The cemetery is open to visitors. Tours and pamphlets about its history are available for a modest fee. During the period of this research, dozens of visitors, both Indian and foreigners, were noted visiting the cemetery. The cemetery staff actively interprets the cemetery and is very knowledgeable about the burial ground and its history. Many of the markers offer evidence of restoration and restoration activities on the enormous pyramidal monument of Sir William Jones, a famous philologist, that were ongoing over the course of this study (Figure 7.2). The cemetery covers approximately eight acres. Other Christian cemeteries, including Lower Circular Road Cemetery and the Bhowanipore Cemetery are present in the city. There are also grave markers within some churches, including Most Holy Rosary Cathedral, which contains early Portuguese markers. Kolkata is a diverse city with significant Hindu and Muslim populations as well as Christians, Zoroastrians, Buddhists, Sikhs, and a small Jewish enclave. It is also a world city with a current (2023) population of over nineteen million people (World Population Review 2023). Faced with a sizable burial ground and a truly constrained research window, the author tried two approaches. Initially, I attempted to record

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Figure 7.2. Massive obelisk of Sir William Jones undergoing restoration. © Richard Veit.

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every marker in the cemetery using a characteristic list that I had developed for recording North American colonial cemeteries of roughly the same age and scale (e.g. the Elizabethtown New Jersey Presbyterian Burial ground) (Table 7.1). This form, or more accurately the research team, was rapidly overwhelmed by the sheer variety of monuments. Moreover, the data categories that had proved so useful in the eastern United States were largely irrelevant here. Furthermore, the fact that many monuments no longer retain their commemorative plaques made recording difficult. While much of the cemetery is open, especially the main avenues, some areas were less accessible. Faced with a ticking clock, a large burial ground, and a mass of disparate monuments, a different approach was attempted. The most comprehensive, readily available guidebook (BACSA

Table 7.1. An example of detailed recording. Gravemarker Recording Form for 18th-Century Gravemarkers, NJ, NY, PA (from Veit 1991) Physical Characteristics 1. Name: Self-explanatory 2. Date: Self-explanatory 3. Direction: Direction which the stone faces. For tombstones and tablestones, it is the direction the lettering faces. 4. Type: Head, Foot, Table, Tomb 5. Material (6 categories) 6. Shape or Form (25 categories) 7. Tympanum Design/Primary Design (56 categories) 8. Secondary Design in Tympanum (24 categories) 9. Border Design (27 categories) 10. Shoulder Decoration (11 categories) 11. Height 12. Width 13. Thickness Social Characteristics 14. Age of Deceased 15. Epitaph—Transcribed 16. Title of Deceased (30 categories) 17. Kinship Information (13 categories) 18. Photo 19. Carver’s Signature 20. Additional Notes

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1992) was purchased. Rather than record- Table 7.2. Information recorded ing individual monuments, de novo, the during rapid recording. guidebook, which lists all of the extant 1. Name of deceased memorials, was employed as a baseline 2. Date of decease and annotated with descriptions of monu- 3. Form of marker ment forms (Table 7.2). Five basic cat4. Iconography of marker egories of information were recorded: the 5. Photograph name of the deceased, date of death, form of the marker, iconography when present, 6. Additional notes and any additional notes (Table 7.3). The main pathways of the cemetery were walked, and basic information was recorded about the markers adjoining the paths. Select markers off the paths were also examined. Essentially, this provided a series of transects through the burial ground. In order to better understand the diversity of markers and document patterns of commemoration, the marker styles were documented. All markers along these transects were photographed individually using a Canon Eos Rebel T3I. The result is not a comprehensive documentation of the entire cemetery; rather it is a non-random sample of the markers in the cemetery, akin to those employed by archaeologists excavating large sites on limited budgets. A total of 306 images were recorded, or an 18 percent sample of the approximately 1,684 markers present in the burial ground. While a far cry from Table 7.3. Gravemarker forms the detailed documentation and thor- along main paths of the South ough photography pioneered by Deetz Park Street Cemetery based on and Dethlefsen in New England burial rapid recording. grounds, and the even more comprehen- Form Number sive recording of scholars such as Sherene Box Tomb 11 Baugher, Santucci, Venables, and Stone 20 in New York City (1983), Gaynell Stone Classical Tomb 4 on Long Island (1987), and Richard Veit Sarcophagus Form (1991), and Adam Heinrich in central Columns 6 New Jersey (2011), the results are useful. Headstone 11 This rapid survey of the cemetery re- Hindu Temple Style 1 vealed that markers were produced in 16 roughly a dozen different forms; though Mughal Templetto 17 admittedly, as with any typology, some Obelisk scholars might see further divisions and Pyramid 2 others fewer. The monuments vary in Tablets 31 size from extraordinarily large to more Tombstones 3 modest. 1 These forms include: box tombs, tombs Indeterminate TOTAL 123 with classical ornamentation, coffin or sar-

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cophagi form markers, columns, headstones, Hindu Temple–style markers, Mughal-inspired templettos, obelisks, pyramids, tablets—typically set in masonry markers, tombstones or ledger stones, and indeterminate markers (Table 7.3). Table 7.4 lists markers by form based on an analysis of photographs of single markers near the main avenues that internally divide the cemetery. Although contemporary with New England’s famous colonial graveyards, the mortality images, cherubs, urns and willow trees, and other iconographic imagery noted by Deetz and Dethlefsen (1966, 1967) in colonial America’s burial grounds, and also seen in English and Scottish burial grounds (Willshir 1998) from this time period, are entirely absent. Martin Krieger made similar observations in his study of European burial grounds in southern India (2013:141). It was noted that a handful of headstones and slate memorial plaques had been relocated from other defunct Christian burial grounds in the city, including the French Cemetery, Scottish Cemetery, and the North Park Street Cemetery. The evolution from colorful local slates and sandstones to marble monuments seen in colonial North American burial grounds was not seen here. However, the white plastered monuments may reflect the same neoclassical ideals as the more modest marble markers found in the eastern United States. Table 7.4. Stonecutters represented by signed plaques in the South Park Street Cemetery. Stonecutters/Sculptors/Architects W. Coombs S. C. J. Dickson

Dates Active 1812–1819 1899

G. Gibson Sc.

1772–1801

Philip Hunt Sc.

1813–1815

Hunt and Jones Sct.

1818

Landon

1802

Lindeman & Co. Sct. Lindeman & Hunt Sc. Llewelyn & Co. Sct.

1807–1809 1807 ND

J. Llewelyn Sct.

1823

Murdoch

1837

W. Myers Sct.

1774

Simpson & C. Archt. and SC G. Smith Sc. P. Swanton and Co. Scts. Yeatherd & Co. Scts.

1829 1803–1806 1910 undated

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The vast majority of memorials in the burial ground are, in fact, monuments. Headstones, tablets, and ledgers are present but both physically and numerically overshadowed by the monuments in the cemetery. The larger monuments are constructed of handmade brick, set in mortar, and coated with a parge coat of mortar. The bricks are larger than common bricks in America, and in some cases were either specially made or cut down to form curved forms such as columns, and so forth. In some cases, ornamentation was worked into the mortar, such as the crossed shovels on the marker of Sir William Jones (d. 1794), an early archaeologist (see Figure 7.2), and the bas-relief urns seen on several monuments. Box tombs are simple box-like markers, often with an inset slate or marble plaque containing pertinent biographical information about the deceased. Some of these tombs are augmented with classical ornaments or evince classical forms (e.g. Doric, Ionic, and Corinthian orders, friezes, metopes, etc.). Other monuments are coffin or sarcophagus form. Here the coffin or sarcophagus is not the actual burial place of the deceased but a decorative form. Headstones were made and used in all time periods but are not the most common form of memorial in the cemetery (Figure 7.3). Classical forms are also noteworthy; indeed, the neoclassical façade of what appears to be a small Greek temple, complete with Doric columns is present. Other elements of classical architecture are seen including simple cubes and rectangles with garlands, wreaths, and Greek keys (Figure 7.4).

Figure 7.3. Pair of masonry box tombs with classical details. © Richard Veit.

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Figure 7.4. Finely proportioned temple with a Doric entablature. © Richard Veit.

Columns, another classical design, are present in some numbers, especially in the rear of the cemetery. Unlike the other monuments, which are made of plastered masonry, these are made from a fine-grained tan sandstone. They often commemorate military officers. Made from multiple blocks of stone, they were constructed with iron connectors. Generally speaking, they appear to be later than the masonry monuments and commemorate individuals of substantial but somewhat more modest accomplishments. Columnar markers are, of course, common in Victorian cemeteries in Europe and America, reflecting not simply an interest in classical civilization, which was burgeoning in late eighteenth century and early nineteenth century, but also an obvious metaphor of ruins for a life cut short (Figure 7.5A). One of the most extraordinary monuments in the cemetery is a highly ornamented small Hindu-style temple. It marks the grave of Major General Charles “Hindoo” Stuart. Stuart was a British officer who served with the East India Company’s army. An advocate for Hindu society, Stuart advocated the adoption of Indian cultural mores and railed against the activities of Christian missionaries in India. His tomb, though heavily restored today, is intriguing. It is even decorated with small religious sculptures (Figure 7.5B). Many of the monuments fall into a form that might be Anglo-Indian and presage the nineteenth-century style called Indo-Saracenic by architectural historians. These are typically small temples or mausoleums,

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A

B

C

D

Figure 7.5. A: Column markers like these were typically employed by company officials in the early nineteenth century. These are for Sarah Rosalie Robinson (died 1818) and James Robinson (died 1819); James served as Assistant Surgeon and Keeper of the Insane Hospital. B: The distinctive tomb of Major General Charles Stuart (died 1828); note the extensive and elaborate carvings. C: An obelisk and a small Mughal-style tomb. D: Elizabeth Barwell’s pyramid-shaped tomb in the South Park Street Cemetery, c. 1778. © Richard Veit.

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consisting of pillars or columns supporting lintels, a drum, and a dome, and sometimes a finial (Figure 7.5C). Martin Krieger characterizes similar monuments in South India as Indo-European hybrids, quoting Martin Krieger 2013:97). Art historian James Stephen Curl notes, “It was not just European taste, but north Indian Muslim architecture as well, which influenced the creation of European mausoleums in India and in Great Britain. Drawing upon the magnificent Mughal funerary architecture, European merchants in Surat and Bharuch were the first to be commemorated by huge mausoleums displaying a hybrid European Mughal style from the latter half of the eighteenth century” (Krieger 2013:144). Obelisks are also common. Though of Egyptian origin, they began to be employed in the fifteenth century as grave monuments in Europe. In the South Park Street Cemetery, they are quite common. Many stand on square bases, some with additional neoclassical decorations. While the pyramid is clearly of Egyptian origin, the examples in the Park Street Cemetery resemble the pyramid of Gaius Cestius, more than those on the Giza Plateau (Figure 7.5D). Cestius was a contemporary of the Emperor Augustus. His pyramid, found in Rome, is tall and narrow, with an exterior constructed of brick sheathed in marble (Toynbee 1971: 127–128). The use of pyramids as monuments by individuals of European descent was not unheard of in Victorian cemeteries but is unusual in eighteenth-century burial grounds. The pyramids might also be seen as resembling those of Meroe in Sudan and are linked both to classical ideas and the Egyptomania that swept European society following Napoleon’s invasion of Egypt. Two of the more noteworthy pyramids mark the graves of William Jones and Elizabeth Barwell. Sarcophagi were also employed as monuments. Many are quite elaborate (Figure 7.6). This typology is no doubt imperfect and incomplete, and simply reflects a rough visual approximation of the various styles. Many of the artisans creating the tombs seem to have felt no compunction to adhere to a particular style, so Roman tombs sprout curious caps and obelisks. Obelisks and pyramids are ornamented with enormous urns, anchors, and shovels. It is important to note that most of the monuments appear to be of solid construction. In only one case was a monument found open and had hinges for a door. It appears that burial was below ground with the monument above. Multiple internments were often commemorated by a single monument. In American burial grounds and in architecture generally, the use of classical motifs, or the classical revival is associated with ideas of liberty and democracy drawn from ancient Greece and Roman republicanism. Here the designs may have more to do with India as an ancient land, and ideas of empire, stability, and power. Although numerous individual

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Figure 7.6. Sarcophagus-style marker with a marble plaque for Gulielmus (William) Jackson, died 1807. © Richard Veit.

monuments speak to the brevity of life for members of the East India Company and their families serving in India, as a whole the monuments, with designs drawn from ancient civilizations, make powerful physical and visual statements about the permanence of empire. By constructing pyramids and classical temples, the East India Company employees not only drew upon current aesthetic styles in vogue in Europe, but also created statements about the permanence of their endeavor, its power, and its underpinnings in rational thought.

Who Made the Monuments? According to James Curl, “The building of mausolea in South Park Street appears to have been the work of undertakers who handled all aspects of the funeral trade. A Mr. Oldham was one of the most successful and was responsible for many of the tombs” (1993:141). Curl further notes that many of them were drawn from print sources, and some may have come from the “drawing boards of distinguished architects” (Curl 1993:141). His sources for these assertions are not described. Most monuments are unsigned, but inscription plaques are also present. Many of the carvers who produced the insets signed their work. These signatures are quite modest, and are almost always found in the

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bottom right hand corner of the inset. It is not clear whether they made the entire markers or just the insets. Signed plaques by sixteen different stonecutters were noted (Table 7.4). All of the names are European, though it is not clear whether they were locally carved or imported from England or Scotland. When questioned, Mr. Rodriguez, the cemetery superintendent, noted that the memorial plaques had been locally carved, which does not accord with the information on the plaques themselves. These slabs sometimes carry lengthy inscriptions, often with occupational information about the deceased. Women are often referred to in light of their relationship to male members of society, their parents and husbands. Some markers note military service, while others record the deceased’s hometown in England—or, in one case, New York. Many of the men’s monuments note their occupation, some note military service, particularly in the army or navy. They may mention scientific or civic accomplishments. Places of origin are noted such as Scotland and New York. On occasion, they record the individual’s cause of death. Many note the grieving spouses and children left behind and some employ religious language. Several make explicit note of charitable work. Women are almost always associated with the men in their lives, again grieving spouses and children are noted. A few women are described as celebrated. Both men and women are described using a variety of positive adjectives. While the morbid epitaphs seen in New England are not found here, lengthy biographical inscriptions are present.

Interpretations, Park Street Cemetery in World Perspective The South Park Street Cemetery stands in stark contrast to English cemeteries in North America, the Caribbean, and even Great Britain proper. The headstones and relatively modest monuments that dominate North American burial grounds from this period are exceedingly rare here. Mortality images and cherubs are not present, replaced instead by elaborate memorials reflecting a broad architectural vocabulary. They include obelisks, pyramids, classically inspired temples, and a wide variety of monuments reflecting the tradition known by architectural historians as Indo-Saracenic architecture. The tomb of Charles Stuart is a miniature Hindu temple, complete with relief carvings. While inscriptions call to home, they also speak to roles and accomplishments as part of the colonial government. The markers are also quite different from those found in the Caribbean, where headstones and table tombs are somewhat common, but there is a rich tradition of elaborately carved three-dimensional marble monuments. In sum, South Park Street’s monuments speak to the great wealth extracted from India by the East India Company. At

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the same time, they highlight a cultural melding not seen in other areas. The influence of Indian art and architecture is strong here. Interestingly, this is not as true in the later Lower Circular Road burial ground also in Kolkata. A brief visit there revealed little of the Mughal-inspired architecture seen at South Park Street The monuments are more modest, often marble, sometimes with lead-infilled letters, and would not look out of place in a Victorian cemetery in England. This change deserves further investigation. At a glance, it appears that there was a major cultural shift occurring in India in the mid-nineteenth century. One possible explanation is the growing conflict between the increasingly imperious English minority and the local Indian population. While the eighteenth century had seen extensive cultural exchange between many English residents and Indian elites, as well as intermarriage, resulting in what historian William Dalrymple has called White Mughals (2002), the early nineteenth century saw tremendous pressure exerted on traditional Indian society by several different groups. Dalrymple notes, “By the early 1850s, many British officials were nursing plans finally to abolish the Mughal court and to impose not just British laws and technology on India, but also Christianity” (Dalrymple 2006:10). Efforts by Anglican and Baptist missionaries to convert Indians to their denominations came to a head with the Great Mutiny of 1857, where “of the 139,000 sepoys of the Bengal Army—the largest modern army in Asia—all but 7,796 turned against their British masters” (Dalrymple 2006:10). Both sides perpetrated atrocities in what became an infamous conflict. Rebel troops, rallied to Bahadur Shah, whom they saw as the legitimate ruler of Hindustan, and took Delhi, while British soldiers encamped on the Delhi Ridge and shelled the city. In the aftermath of the Great Uprising, Parliament removed the East India Company from Power and the Company’s “Indian possessions would be nationalized and pass into the control of the British Crown” (Dalrymple 2019:291). The elaborate memorials that once graced the final resting places of Dalrymple’s White Mughals ceased to be erected. Instead, very typical British memorials replaced them.

Conclusions This paper is an initial step toward interpreting the monuments contained within the South Park Street Burial Ground in a broader context. It is based on a rapid recording technique in which a sample of markers, rather than the entirety of the burial ground, was documented. Based on the data recorded, I argue that the monuments of the South Park Street Burial Ground reflect an intensive cultural cross-fertilization, as societies, religions, and artistic traditions: Hindu, Muslim, and European,

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interacted economically, politically, and personally, in a world driven by commerce, tradition, and the scientific revolution. The result, as seen in the South Park Street Cemetery, is an extraordinary place of commemoration, drawing from contemporary European commemorative practices, classical traditions, Mughal motifs, and South Asian construction practices. These markers serve to commemorate not just the leadership of the British colonial bureaucracy, but also a unique moment in South Asian history, where diverse cultures came together: Hindu, Muslim, and English, to form an Anglo-Indian society, similar to what American historical archaeologists have called hybrid or creole cultures. Writings about American commemoration have made much of the impact of religion on colonial iconography. Only recently have other perspectives linking commemoration to capitalism and to larger aesthetic trends begun to come to the fore (Veit 2009; Tarlow 1999; Heinrich 2014). In eighteenth- and early nineteenth-century India, the monuments in the Park Street Cemetery do not seem to reflect changing religious ideals; rather, they draw their inspiration from Greek and Roman art and architecture, as well as local Mughal and Hindu antecedents. However, the local Indian influence is in the construction and form of some of the markers, reflecting the syncretism that characterized AngloIndian society during this period.

Acknowledgments A special thanks to Dr. Rekha Datta for organizing Monmouth University’s India trip. The assistance of David Annun in the completion of the fieldwork is gratefully acknowledged. Mr. Rodriguez, cemetery caretaker, is thanked for sharing his extensive knowledge of the South Park Street Cemetery. Maryann Veit read and commented on an earlier draft of this paper. This paper benefited from the comments of Dr. Harold Mytum and several anonymous reviewers.

Richard Veit is a Professor of Anthropology and Interim Dean of the Wayne D. McMurray School of Humanities and Social Sciences at Monmouth University. At Monmouth, he teaches courses on historical archaeology, North American archaeology, cultural resource management, and local history. His research interests include gravestones and burial grounds, early American material culture, vernacular architecture, and conflict archaeology. He has authored/co-authored, or edited eight books and numerous articles. His PhD is from the University of Pennsylvania.

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CHAPTER 8

Standing for Sacred Spaces NC Department of Natural and Cultural Resources and the African American Cemetery Project Melissa A. Timo and John J. Mintz

In the spring of 2019, the North Carolina Office of State Archaeology (OSA) and the North Carolina African American Heritage Commission (AAHC) were approached by the office of Congresswoman Alma Adams with a request. Congresswoman Adams of North Carolina’s 12th district is one of the authors of H.R. 1179, the African American Burial Ground Network Act. The resulting partnership has helped structure a new NC Department of Natural and Cultural Resources approach to identifying, recording, studying, and memorializing historic African American cemeteries. NC OSA and AAHC staff offer the following model to inspire others to create their own community-focused cemetery programs. That spring, the congresswoman’s office contacted the NC OSA and AAHC because she aspired to offer a public workshop or program to garner support for the bill she and her coauthors, Congressman Donald McEachin and Congressman Ted Budd, were submitting for US House subcommittee consideration in May. This legislation would create a voluntary national network of historic African American burial grounds, and would provide information, technical support, and grants to aid in the research, identification, preservation, and restoration of burial sites within the network (Adams 2019). The resulting workshop took place in the historically African American north Charlotte, North Carolina neighborhood of Biddleville. It was hosted at the Gethsemane AME Zion Church and nearby historic Biddleville Cemetery. It was attended by more than seventy-five enthusiastic participants. The congresswoman’s office and the AAHC arranged for local community engagement leaders and local historic preservation pro-

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ponents to speak. The OSA brought cemetery and ground-penetrating radar (GPR) expertise and state regulatory knowledge. Cemetery workshops in and of themselves are not new. Archaeologists have offered excellent hands-on public cemetery workshops across the country for years. The partnership with the AAHC and Congresswoman Adams’s office has provided the OSA with the opportunity to reconsider and readdress their role as representatives of the state and the profession of archaeology acting within the sphere of community engagement. Much like the standard cemetery workshops, the May 2019 Biddleville event covered the basics. Planned topics included monument cleaning best practices, efficacy of GPR, and developing management and preservation plans, and so forth. The power in the workshop, however, came from the agenda set forth by the congresswoman—community advocacy. The United Nations (2014) has listed Charlotte in the top three fastest-growing large cities in the United States. Their researchers have projected a population increase of up to 71 percent between 2010 and 2030 (UN 2014). Rapid urbanization and gentrification regularly threaten historic African American resources like cemeteries. Therefore, it should not be a surprise that the Biddleville workshop participants, perhaps encouraged by the presence and support of the congresswoman and her proposed bill, focused almost the entirety their questions (and a bulk of the workshop time) on cemetery laws, processes, and troubleshooting rights issues. As they were leaving, some participants reported to state staff that they felt empowered and hopeful about future local cemetery preservation endeavors. With a successful and well-received workshop under their belts, the OSA and the AAHC decided to continue to address the increasingly serious need to protect and record historic African American cemeteries across the state. The goal, however, was clear from the Biddleville event. These workshops would have to be community driven and tailored to reflect community-identified needs. The model would include a few core components, including cemetery law and cemetery management planning. The rest of the material would be local community dependent. By not relying on a universal approach to cemetery workshops, local resource issues are addressed, and the descendant community is engaged as the active voice and key player. OSA staff will also benefit by being able to develop better methods to study, record, and understand the state’s chronically under highlighted African American cemeteries and their associated communities. Historically, cemeteries were a key physical landmark that can help researchers understand the landscapes in which historic African American communities lived. Sandra Arnold (2016: 10) of the Periwinkle Initiative wrote that “standard measures for tracing family histories and life in the

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United States do not account for the lived experience of people of color. Unlike even the poorest whites, enslaved Americans were not guaranteed marriage licenses, or birth and death certificates by the state. Therefore, their gravesites stand as material testaments to the hundreds of thousands of individuals who lived and died during and after slavery.” Cemeteries, sites of memory and special significance, were one of a few places in America where black identity could be asserted and maintained (Vlach 1991: 109). This means that these cemeteries must be approached in a different, multifocused way than they have been in the past. The generally accepted approach to studying and preserving might overlook other, marginalized layers of cultural meaning. For example, the emphasis on carved headstones and the modern American desire to locate the individual denies the antebellum reliance on the developed extended and multigenerational relationships that safeguarded kinship ties by those whose fragile familial connections were forcibly separated through sales, inheritance, or death (Rainville 2014). Instead, enslaved and newly emancipated communities focused on unmarked or minimally marked plots and cemeteries that were therefore never “full” to remember family units and emphasize the importance of oral and cultural traditions (Rainville 2014). A cemetery was, and should continue to be, seen as a separate and sacred place where African Americans live and die with dignity in the face of chains of racism, death, and violence (Kalish and Reynolds 1981). The experience of death was forged in slavery and cemented in postemancipation nineteenth century. The resulting belief focused on moving toward the next phase of life in a spiritual movement in which death was accepted and not feared, while identifying the individual and community role in a changing world (Moore and Bryant 2003: 598). After emancipation, cemeteries defined the edges between white and black sections of town or separated the African American world from the dominant culture within a county (West 2015: 670). They were typically in close proximity of community institutions like churches and schools, while still speaking to the historical and cultural rift endured by African Americans in the Jim Crow era by creating an isolated sphere (West 2015: 670). During the civil rights era, burials were moved from back fields and hidden sections to more visible locations, perhaps asserting a community’s place in the greater population (Holloway 2003: 164). By cementing public and highly formalized funerary traditions in widely visible locations within their cultural practice, African Americans exercised their claims to citizenship by celebrating the life, and mourning the death, of a loved one (Arnold 2016: 9). So, where has this put modern professionals studying, preserving, and seeking to offer skills workshops about African American cemeteries? His-

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torian Carroll Van West (2015: 684) argues that there is less of a professional gaze, particularly in the fields of history and historic preservation, on African American cemeteries compared to the “beautiful,” dominant, white cemeteries. There is empathy felt toward the disheveled condition of the cemeteries or the deteriorated state of surrounding neighborhoods, but no real attempt to pull back the curtain on the meaning of the landscapes underneath the overgrowth. The study of historic African American cemeteries as cultural landscapes imbued with deep meaning can reveal important information, such as location of historic boundaries of post-emancipation African American communities, locations of historic institutional centers of associated peoples, and names and symbols of marginalized generations (West 2015: 684). Many modern research, preservation, and engagement strategies, therefore, may be missing several important considerations. On one level, cemeteries are about the pasts we bury in them. But on another, they are inherently future-oriented. Memorials are nothing if not directed at those who will look upon them and be called to remember (Eggener 2010). They also speak of the hopes of the deceased. Because cemeteries are such patently liminal sites they, more than any other designed landscapes, communicate grand social and metaphysical ideas. They offer summations of lives lived and speak of community, the connection to place, mortality, afterlife, and eternity. Serving the needs of both the dead and the living, they are an “identifying sign of a culture” and deserving of an individualized approach to research, preservation, and community outreach (Eggener 2010). This also means that it is important to open space for descendant communities to have a more direct role in shaping the study, preservation, and memorial of their own spaces. When the OSA and the AAHC sought to expand their historic African American cemetery outreach program, this was our goal. Angela Thorpe, director of the AAHC identified three additional population centers across the state to test out our model: Asheville in the mountains of western North Carolina, Elizabeth City on the northwest coast, and New Bern on the southeast coast. Establishing each workshop begins with identifying local partners and local issues. This approach adds a great deal more time for preparation than universal or standard approach style workshops. Fostering relationships and identifying community spokespeople, advocacy groups, and elders to share their history and cemeteries has been a challenging and rewarding process. Others following this model should be sure to expand expected timetables to properly embrace community agency and design. As a result of investing in local agency, no two workshops have the same theme. The Asheville planning committee has chosen to focus on a theme of building community partnerships. There, the relationship

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between descendant communities and researchers has been strained for years. Communities feel more like primary resources than active agents in their own history and landscapes. Thorpe has called this “interview fatigue.” One-sided questioning has created narratives but no inclusive action plans or long-term commitments to promoting representation or creating historical preservation strategies. The 28 March 2020 slate of speakers included community elders and a presentation by representatives from the South Asheville Cemetery Association. The cemetery is noted as the oldest public African American cemetery in western North Carolina and a public restoration effort success story (South Asheville Cemetery Association 2014). Since the 1980s, thousands of volunteers have worked with members of the association to improve and maintain this sacred and historical site in an effort to promote greater public awareness of African American history in Buncombe County and to honor the people buried there (South Asheville Cemetery Association 2014). Additionally, the workshop was planned to offer a reintroduction of publicly available local historic preservation and genealogy resources (and the professionals who work there) to attendees. State staff hope these workshops open discussions of the where, how, and who of beginning to rebuild community confidence and encourage renewed efforts. The 4 April 2020 workshop in Elizabeth City sought to focus on student engagement, documentation, and survey skills. Elizabeth City is a coastal community, historically home to the enslaved builders of the 1793 Dismal Swamp Canal and currently home to a small Historically Black Colleges and Universities (HBCU), Elizabeth City State University. The planning committee expressed a desire to learn better documentation techniques to arm the next generation with best practices to record neglected and underrepresented African American cemeteries. Finally, the New Bern committee, which consists of several previously unassociated African American cemetery friends’ groups, chose to focus on heritage tourism for its fall 2020 workshop. The committee plans to explore how to combine disparate efforts for a greater outcome. As a part of this workshop, the planning committee discussed creating examples of joint promotional materials, like a driving tour map, that they could then share with workshop participants and subsequent visitors to New Bern. Unfortunately, almost at the literal eleventh hour, all in-person efforts were shelved due to pandemic safety restrictions. More than sixty RSVPs were returned. Scheduled speakers were asked to stand by. State staff took a step back to think about alternative platforms that would still allow them to offer these important events. After local committee consultations, the resulting plan was to move the workshops online and pair them with an accompanying resources web page.

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Despite the disappointment of not being able to meet in person, online workshops are a wonderful alternative because they dramatically increase accessibility. Members of the public who are interested but unable to make it over the mountains or to the coast or during a particular time slot can still learn about these important African American cemetery themes. In turn, local planning committees are enthusiastic about sharing their local work with a wider internet audience. The first two test virtual events will be the rescheduled Asheville and Elizabeth City workshops. In addition to having another chance to explore their chosen theme, the Asheville team is excited to finally have their stories recorded. They plan also to use their local speakers’ recordings for their own preservation and promotion initiatives. Some of their planned speakers are elders in their community. It is a boon to preserve their elders’ stories about their work and the history of local African American cemeteries for posterity. The Elizabeth City team is using this opportunity to provide a chance for a greater number of HBCU students to complete historic cemetery preservation and public interpretation projects to add to the publicly released workshop material. They are using this chance to not just encourage and demonstrate student engagement but also provide students with hands-on training and interpretation experience for future historic preservation jobs. Some of our biggest concerns for this new virtual platform have been accessibility (technological and public) and usefulness. First, for technological accessibility, we matched local teams with state or university partners for access to the cameras, sound equipment, and so forth necessary to record. We are working with NC Department of Natural and Cultural Resources media and public relations staff for help with editing, advertising, and posting video content. The individual speakers’ videos that make up each workshop will be “debuted” on department social media accounts on a broadly advertised date for participant accessibility. State staff and local teams will monitor comments during the debut to answer audience questions. After that, the videos will remain accessible to any visitor on a department YouTube page, with direct links from the OSA’s Cemetery Program page and a forthcoming African American Cemeteries Project web page connected to the AAHC website. The African American Cemetery Project web page will also provide visitors with African American cemetery and culture information, additional supporting resources and videos, and state citizen cemetery recording forms. The usefulness of these virtual events has been very carefully considered. These workshops were originally tailored to a specific audience and their specific African American cemetery concerns. It is very important

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that state staff ensure that the topics do not become so generalized to meet the needs of a wider internet audience that they are no longer of any use for the very real world concerns of our original local partners. To prevent dilution, staff are taking the extra time to listen to the local planning committee. Local speakers and interest groups have been encouraged to steer the direction of the now expanded platform. State staff and local institutional partners are acting as technological and logistical support. Both of our pioneering community groups have, in turn, embraced this virtual opportunity as a way to celebrate their hard work and their chance to act as role models for other communities with similar problems. These new workshops are planned for spring 2021. State staff invite the public to visit the NC OSA (https://archaeology.ncdcr .gov/) and AAHC (https://aahc.nc.gov/) websites for updates and debut announcements. By combining a focus on pinpointed community needs, opening up a space for active engagement, and arming participants with skills and local partners, the OSA and AAHC hope to create a whole series of cemetery workshops that are tailored and, thus, more useful to the people who love them, wherever they may be. They hope to record and preserve all aspects of these resources and empower North Carolina communities to ensure long-term partnerships and positive change.

Melissa A. Timo is a historic and public archaeologist. She works for the North Carolina Office of State Archaeology (OSA) as the Historic Cemetery Specialist. Before coming to OSA, Timo worked in the private sector, for public archaeology organizations such as the Florida Public Archaeology Network as well as the National Park Service, local historical societies, university archaeology labs and field schools, and the Sagamore Institute of the Adirondacks at Vanderbilt’s Great Camp Sagamore. She received her MA in historical archaeology with an emphasis in public archaeology from the University of West Florida in Pensacola, FL. John J. Mintz is the North Carolina State Archaeologist with the North Carolina Office of State Archaeology (OSA). Prior to joining OSA in 1998, Mintz worked for the NC Department of Transportation (NCDOT) as a staff archaeologist, a private sector archaeology project manager, and a research assistant and project archaeologist for the Arkansas Archaeological Survey. Mintz brings more than thirty-five years of experience investigating historic, prehistoric, and maritime archaeological sites throughout the Southeast and Middle Atlantic regions. He received his MA in anthropology from the University of Arkansas.

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References Adams, A. 2019. “Reps. Adams and McEachin Introduce the ‘African American Burial Grounds Network Act.’” Retrieved 29 November 2020 from https:// adams.house.gov/media-center/press-releases/reps-adams-and-mceachin-introdu ce-african-american-burial-grounds. Arnold,  S. 2016. Memory and Landmarks: Report of the Burial Database Project of Enslaved Americans. Periwinkle Initiative. Retrieved 29 November 2020 from https://issuu.com/periwinkleinitiative/docs/flipbook. Eggener, K. 2010. “Building on Burial Ground.” Places Journal. Retrieved 31 December 2019 from https://doi.org/10.22269/101209. Holloway, K. F. C. 2003. Passed on: African American Mourning Stories: A Memorial. Durham, NC: Duke University Press. Kalish, R. A., and D. K. Reynolds. 1981. Death and Ethnicity: A Psychocultural Study. Farmingdale: Baywood Publishing Company. Moore III, J. L., and C. D. Bryant. 2003. “Black Funeralization and Culturally Grounded Services.” In The Handbook of Death and Dying: Volume Two, Response to Death, ed. C. D. Bryant, 598–603. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage Publications. Rainville, L. 2014. Hidden History: African American Cemeteries in Central Virginia. Charlottesville: University of Virginia Press. South Asheville Cemetery Association. 2014. “History of Cemetery.” Retrieved 31 December 2019 from http://www.southashevillecemetery.net/history. United Nations, Department of Economic and Social Affairs, Population Division. 2014. World Urbanization Prospects: The 2014 Revision. File 12: Population of Urban Agglomerations with 300,000 Inhabitants or More in 2014, by Country, 1950–2030 (thousands). Retrieved 31 December 2019 from https://population .un.org/wup/. Vlach, J. M. 1991. By the Work of Their Hands: Studies in Afro-American Folk-life. Charlottesville: University Press of Virginia. West, C. V. 2015. “Sacred, Separate Places: African American Cemeteries in the Jim Crow South.” In The Changing World Religion Map: Sacred Places, Identities, Practices, and Politics, ed. S. D. Brunn and D. A. Gilbreath, 669–685. Dordrecht: Springer.

CHAPTER 9

Mourning and Remembering Mortuary Monuments and Graves for Horses in Finland Tiina Äikäs, Janne Ikäheimo, Tuija Kirkinen, and Karin Hemmann

Introduction Studies have indicated that companion animals are conceived as family members and their graves represent a close human-animal bond (Auster 2018; Brandes 2009; Gustavsson 2011; Pręgowski 2016; Schuurman and Laurén 2016). Archaeologists have recently begun to appreciate the cultural significance of pet cemeteries and grave markers, as part of the development of mortuary studies and contemporary archaeology (Tourigny 2020; Tourigny, this volume chapter 10). Although horses are large utility animals and are rarely kept at home like pet animals, their status is shifting toward that of a companion animal (Schuurman and Leinonen 2012), which is leading to more nuanced ways of securing a good death (Schuurman and Franklin 2018) and a burial place for the horse. In Finland, there have been specific burial grounds for horses from the nineteenth century onward; for example, close to farmhouses. In general, horses were buried separately from other animals such as cattle. As late as in the nineteenth century, the butchering of a horse was controlled by rituals that aimed to secure the purity of the act and the carcass itself (Leinonen 2013: 219). Horses are buried at pet cemeteries in Finland only in rare cases. Internationally, the first horse burials in pet cemeteries date back to Paris in the early twentieth century (Spiegelman and Kastenbaum 1990) but they are still a rarity around the world. We do not have records of the first

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horse burials at pet cemeteries in Finland but the first pet cemetery was established in Ruskeasuo, Helsinki, in 1927 and moved to Keskuspuisto (Central park), Helsinki, in 1947. Some horses are buried there but, because of the size of these animals, they are cremated and their cremains are buried in urns. Knowledge of historical horse burials in Finland before the 1960s is partial and scattered. In the countryside, the carcass was sold to the slaughterer or it was buried in the farmstead in a special field corner reserved for horse graves (Leinonen, 2013: 220). Although horses were sent for butchery, many of our informants stressed that it was not right to eat the meat of one’s own horse, not even during hard times, even though horse meat is generally eaten in Finland. The documentation conducted at several individual horse burials and at the horse section of the pet cemetery in Mikonkangas, Oulu, yields significant archaeological insight into memorial practices. Contrary to socially and legislatively controlled human burial grounds with organized maintenance at specified localities, pet cemeteries and horse graves with their inherent do-it-yourself character are often stages for more spontaneous expressions of grief and longing. The evidence of remembering varies from unmarked graves to elaborate memorials with headstones, epitaphs, flowers, and personal objects. The many-faceted memorials of company animals and the material culture associated with them makes it possible to study issues including human-animal relations and acts of mourning and remembering. This research sheds light on a culturally significant animal but also a liminal one, with horses having a status between a companion animal and utility animal.

Case 1: Historical Horse Burials in Farms, Trotting Tracks, and Horse Cemeteries Tracking Historical Horse Burials Information about historical horse burials is mostly obtained from oral traditions, which are in danger of disappearing together with the old horsemen who have preserved them. In the project Interdisciplinary Research strategies of Biological Cultural Heritage—Surveying, Archiving, Analyzing and Sharing Historical DNA from Finnhorses, we have traced, documented, and then excavated Finnhorse burials from the 1850s until the 1950s, as they comprise an important source of DNA. Our aim is to study the early phases of modern animal breeding in Finland, especially around 1907, when Finnhorse, the only native horse breed in Finland, was stud booked.

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To locate historical horse burials, we collected references to the graves of famous trotters from old newspapers and horse-related literature, and interviewed past horse owners and their relatives. Additionally, we made inquiries through the media including national newspapers, Finland’s national public broadcasting company (YLE), the Finnish commercial television station (MTV), regional newspapers, and horse sports newspapers and magazines for any information on Finnhorse burials. We traced the exact locations of the graves by interviewing the landowners and their relatives, and by surveying graves in the landscape. Most importantly, we contacted horse-minded people via our Facebook group (Suomenhevosen varhaisvaiheiden tutkimushanke nd.). This research has been conducted in close cooperation with horse enthusiasts and local people by following the principles of citizen science (see Kirkinen et al. submitted). Information concerning sixty single or double burials and fifteen horse burial grounds has been recovered to date. Single and double burials (mostly foals with their mothers who died while giving birth) can be divided into two main groups: those of famous trotters and other widely known horse individuals, and working farm horses that were loved and remembered by their owners and human family members. Information about horse burial grounds is limited, although it seems that several farmsteads, manors, and villages had their own cemeteries from at least the nineteenth century onward.

Single and Double Burials The single and double burials consist of famous animals that were known not only by horse enthusiasts but also by the wider public. Most of them were famous trotters and important breeding animals, with the most successful stallions fathering several hundred offspring. Trotters were buried both in public places such as alongside trotting tracks, and in private areas such as woods or pastures or in gardens close to the farm or manor main buildings. The choice to bury the horse by the track was often practical if the animal was injured or died during a race. However, not all good trotters of their time were honored by graves, and not all graves have survived to the twenty-first century. Other equine celebrities were buried in public places, such as Lapukka, who was a trotter and a bootlegger-horse, running faster than police horses during the Prohibition. Another example, the Käthy-horse of C. G. E. Mannerheim (1867–1951), Marshal of Finland, has been buried by the entrance of Ypäjä Equine College. These burials of well-known horses include both marked and unmarked graves. Some of the marked ones, such as the double burial of Valokas and

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Rymy-Murto (buried in 1953) by the old Koria trotting track, followed the style of human graves with its gravestone, to which a metal plaque and a small relief were attached. This site is owned and maintained by the local Pohjois-Elimäki trotting and horse-breeding society. Some horse graves were marked only with plain natural stones with no other elements. When we visited these sites and interviewed the landowners and their relatives, it became evident that in many cases any gravestones were erected during the 1970s–1990s, often decades after the death of the horse. The reason for this is yet unclear. This is the case also with the above-mentioned grave of Valokas and Rymy-Murto, the sand mound and gravestone for which were built in 1990, almost forty years after the horses were buried. The time gap between the burying and the marking of the site might be one explanation for the fact that, in some cases (Sopusointu, Kirppu), no horse remains were found in the excavations conducted in the vicinity of gravestones. This phenomenon has not yet been investigated systematically, but clearly it is an issue that needs to be studied further. The graves of working horses, the lives of which were more private or even anonymous as they were only occasionally entered into stud books, and they worked hard in the fields, forests, construction sites, and in the war (e.g., Saastamoinen 2007; Savikko 2014) were generally unmarked. In our study, we found that owners only occasionally remembered the names and identities of the buried horses. In some cases, the memories of grandfathers’ horses were cherished, and the offspring proudly presented us photos, official documents, and horse equipment from these companion animals. Also, stories were remembered, and a couple of women explained that they used to bring flowers to the grave when they were little. As an example of an opposing attitude, we received a skull found from a forest in Kirkkonummi, southern Finland, that was identified as the remains of a horse that died at work whose carcass was just left at the site. Finally, remembering a horse was facilitated with parts of dead horses such as tail hairs but also legs, hooves, and teeth retained and augmented by being appropriately mounted. Sometimes hooves have been used for ashtrays, mementos, and boxes for holding small items. Such items were kept in a closet (teeth), on a table (hooves and legs), or hung on a wall inside the house or a stable or wrapped around the scrapbook of the horse (horse tails). The legs of Sauva (died 1942) were donated to the four children of the house and were kept on an escritoire besides other trophies. In Laihia, western Finland, the whole head of a famous trotter Eri-Aaroni (1932–1953) was unearthed from the grave by local men, taxidermized and hung on the wall in Laihia Museum and can still be seen in the exhibition (Figure 9.1).

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Figure 9.1. Taxidermed head of Eri-Aaroni in the Laihia Museum. © Tuija Kirkinen.

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Horse Burial Grounds According to oral tradition, some of the earliest farmstead and village burial grounds for horses were in use from the nineteenth century to the 1950s, while the burial ground used by Ypäjä Equine College is still in use. There are also burial grounds with relatively short lifespans, such as equine hospitals during World War II, and a mass grave for diseased animals in Somero in southern Finland. Nine of the recorded burial grounds were used by a farm, manor, or village. In these burial grounds, the graves were placed in a nearby forest or in a field near the farm’s stable, and once next to the church graveyard. The burial grounds were unmarked with no visual boundaries, and usually only shallow depressions indicated individual graves. However, sites were sometimes named after their use: in Leppävirta in eastern Finland, the place was called Tammanhaatakangas (Mare Grave Forest), and in Taivalkoski in Northern Ostrobothnia region, a depression in which dead horses were dumped was called Konihauta (Hack Grave). To indicate the cultural significance of the site, it is noteworthy that a local rock band has been named after the horse (Konihauta nd.). The other six recorded burial grounds were maintained by organizations that raised numbers of horses, such as Harju Agricultural School, Ypäjä Equine College, and the Finnish Army. In Ypäjä, graves are often decorated by students by bringing candles and lights to the graves and by creating horseshoe-shaped stone constructions above the burials. Finally, we have one horse burial ground unknown to local tradition in the Porvoo region in southern Finland, the exact date of which we do not yet know. This site was found a couple of years ago by a professional archaeologist, who surveyed depressions observed in Lidar survey.

Excavations Five historical horse burial sites at. Kirppu (1879–1907), Eino (1888– 1913), Ilkka (1898–1922), Sopusointu (1903–1918), and the double burial of Valokas and Rymy-Murto (1932–1953) which were put down on the 23 January 1953 at the age of twenty-one have so far been investigated by excavation. These graves were selected based on the horses’ roles in the pedigree of Finnhorse as a breed. All of the excavated animals were top trotters of their time and the offspring of the famous breeding stallion Murto (Kemiläinen 2007), who can be found in the pedigree of every living Finnish horse. Valokas and Rymy-Murto were buried near the final straight of the Koria trotting track, southern Finland. Today, the former Koria trotting track, together with the nearby horse grave and decayed track buildings,

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is a special form of cultural landscape that evokes horse spectacles from the 1960s. According to books and magazines introducing Finnhorse trotters, the horses were buried in an exceptional way. Alma Takanen, the wife of the owner of the horses and one of the rare women harness drivers, supposedly gave instructions to bury Valokas and Rymy-Murto in trotting position, covered in blankets and the grave furnished with spruce twigs (Toivonen 2008). This information was collected in cooperation with active horse enthusiasts by following the principles of citizen science (Kirkinen et al. submitted). Before the excavation, we interviewed local horsemen and heard that the current sandy mound that covered the grave, as well as the 1.5-meter high headstone, were erected during the 1970s, about twenty years after the burial. In the 1990s, a bronze plaque with the names of the buried horses and their owner was attached to the headstone. The grave is still tended to by the local trotting and horse-breeding society. As the grave is mentioned in the list of sights of the area, it is regularly visited by horse enthusiasts. This evolution of the grave demonstrates how the site evolved over the decades, and how its role was secured for the future by a mound, headstone, bronze plaque, and by stories published in horserelated books. Our excavation, however, strengthened the story by opening the grave itself. We excavated the double burial in 2019 by opening the grave with a mechanical excavator just to the top of the horse remains and by thereafter proceeding with the dig as a traditional excavation. The studied area was c. 3 x 2.3 m with the lowest measured level being 1.25 m below ground level. The animals had been placed in the same grave pit, facing each other symmetrically (Figure 9.2). The bodies were east-west oriented, heads toward the west. Valokas was apparently laid down first, because his legs were under Rymy-Murto. The clay soil had preserved the bodies exceptionally well so that skin, hairs, and even some soft organs were still accessible. This is exceptional in Finland, where organic material usually decomposes relatively quickly in the acidic soil. We were even able to identify the horses by their color, especially by the white marks in Valokas’s legs. The animals had horseshoes on their hooves, and Valokas had a collar beside him. We could also verify the placing of spruce twigs under and over the corpses, following the instructions given by Alma Takanen, and the deposition of oat grains with the horses. All this, as well as the beautiful placing of Valokas and Rymy-Murto, showed enormous respect and dignity. The excavation was conducted with the aid of men from the local trotting and horse-breeding society, and other volunteers. Especially for the locals, it was important that we restore the grave with spruce twigs and

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Figure 9.2. Double burial of Rymy-Murto (left) and Valokas (right). © Tuija Kirkinen.

an oat sheaf, backfilled the grave, constructed the mound, and finally, erected the gravestone and planted new flowering plants on the grave (Figure 9.3). After the reburial, we enjoyed coffee to the memory of the horses, served by local people.

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Figure 9.3. Reburial of Rymy-Murto and Valokas covered with spruce branches. © Tuija Kirkinen.

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Case 2: Horse Burials at Mikonkangas Pet Cemetery The Cemetery and Its Documentation The Mikonkangas Pet Cemetery is located c. 10 km southeast of the city center, where it is maintained by the Animal Welfare Association of Oulu (Oulun eläinsuojeluyhdistys). The cemetery was established in 1993 and currently covers c. 2.2 hectares. A part-time worker employed by the association is responsible for digging the graves and burying the horses. At present, this cemetery is the final resting place of 199 horses and roughly three thousand other companion animals. The practice of burying horses at Mikonkangas is relatively recent. An article published in a local newspaper in September 1998 mentions a solitary horse burial as a curiosity (Kuusiluoto 1998). The burial of horses in a designated section of the cemetery commenced in 2006. Even though there are single horse burials at some other pet cemeteries, in Mikonkangas the burial of the horses is logically organized and largescale. Whereas smaller companion animals are buried at Mikonkangas without species-specific areas, horses have their own section at the cemetery and horse burials present a species-specific geography (cf. Desmond, 2016) within the otherwise heterogeneous cemetery. This is probably due to the larger space that horse burials demand in comparison to mice, cats, or dogs. Luckily the defined area of the horse burials also made it a suitable starting point for documentation. The archaeological documentation of Mikonkangas commenced in early November 2016, when 127 horse burials were recognized and recorded (Figure 9.4). This would imply that the number of burials had increased on average by ten to twelve new burials per annum since 2006. The wintry circumstances of the first documentation raised the question whether some details remained unnoticed, so in a second phase of fieldwork in July 2017, five more graves were added to the research material. In addition, adjustments were made to the earlier documentation, as several important features such as epitaphs written on some frost-prone materials had previously gone unnoticed. In July 2018, the documentation of twenty new burials was added to the research material, and their total number was determined then as 153. During the visit in May 2019, the number of horse burials at the Mikonkangas Pet Cemetery had risen to 170. This significant intensification in horse burials between 2017 and 2019 reflects the growing popularity of the custom. The most recent documentation round was carried out in July 2020, when the number of graves had risen to 199. The growing use of the horse burial section of the cemetery can also be seen in the way burials are organized; the more recent burials are closer together so that the decreasing available space can be used more efficiently.

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Figure 9.4. Map of the horse burials at Mikonkangas and the year of their documentation. Map by Tiina Äikäs and Janne Ikäheimo.

The project documentation combined methods from archaeology and cultural anthropology, and procedures used for the documentation of human cemeteries were adapted to meet the needs of pet cemeteries. A standardized form suitable for the documentation of the horse burials was created (Appendix 1), an adaptation of the form promoted by the Finnish Heritage Agency for the documentation of human burials but with several additional attributes only relevant to horse burials—or the burials of other companion animals. The data collected with the form can be divided into five main categories: general remarks, information about the buried horse, data regarding the funerary monument or its absence, adornments on the grave mound, and additional observations. The form included both multiple choices and open questions, the emphasis being on multiple choices, which are more easily transformed into a GIS database. During the second and third documentation round, the changes observed at previously documented horse burials were marked into a photocopy of the documentation form. This method enabled both shortterm monitoring of the actions taking place in the section reserved for horse burials and building-up an archive containing data from a longer period of time.

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During the form-based documentation, all graves were given a running number that was placed on the burial and taken away after the fieldwork. This number was used as an identifier in photo diaries and in mapping. All graves were also documented by taking several photographs of each individual grave and close-ups of the memorials and decorations. The mapping was performed using RTK-GPS and total station. RTK-GPS was used in the first mapping because it allowed one person to take care of the whole mapping procedure. It also tied the points to the national ETRS-TM35 FIN grid. The use of RTK-GPS in the forest where the pet cemetery was located was rather slow because of the poor signal, which is why in 2019 when the second mapping was conducted, and in 2020, we used a total station for faster mapping. At the time of writing, there have been three mapping rounds. Between the mappings, the approximate location and the running number of the new graves have been marked on a photocopy of the first map. Hence we have been able to retain the same running numbers in all the mapping. During the mapping, five points were measured on each measured grave: one on each four sides of the oval or rectangular grave and one on top of the burial mound. These made it possible to calculate the length, width, and height of the mound. The geographic location and feature information from the documentation forms was combined in ArcGIS, which has enabled analyses of different variables. Whereas between the years 2016 and 2019 documenting new graves was the priority, in 2020 the whole horse burial section of the pet cemetery was re-checked for possible changes. During this new round of survey, we noticed how vital the continuous documentation can be. As in any archaeological fieldwork, one does not always notice everything on one look. Some details of the grave memorials can first go unnoticed but become evident after more experience. Regarding pet cemeteries, graves also change over time as they are (re-)decorated, left to decay, or reused. In addition to archaeological documentation, interview data on horse burials, and rituals of remembrance at the burials were collected. A set of five themed interviews were conducted by anthropologist Riitta-Marja Leinonen in 2017 with the cemetery caretaker and with four people who had buried their, or a friend’s, horse at the cemetery. The interviewees were found through the authors’ connections. The interviews were conducted in private homes, at the university, and by phone and they were analyzed using content analysis. All of the interviewees were women except for the cemetery caretaker. This reflects the gendered practice of the disposal of horses and the differences between riding (for pleasure) and trotting (horse racing pulling a two-wheeled cart) cultures in Finland. The equines buried in the Mikonkangas pet cemetery are mostly riding horses owned by women.

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Apart from the documentation rounds, the burials are also visited on All Saints’ Day, Christmas Eve, and Easter. These days are very important holidays in Finland for remembering the deceased and are characterized by numerous visits to local human cemeteries where people often bring flowers and candles to the graves of their loved ones. As it could be reasonably expected that similar expressions of remembrance would take place at the Mikonkangas Pet Cemetery, brief observation trips were made to the site on Christmas Eve from 2016 to 2018 and on All Saints’ Day of 2017, 2018, and 2019. On these visits, lit candles placed on the graves of horses were marked on a map. Also the interviews confirmed that these were important times for visits (Äikäs et al. in press). Another tradition occasion to visit both human and animal graves is over Easter when people leave daffodils on the graves (Gustavsson 2011; Hyttinen 1996). We conducted an observation at Mikonkangas on Easter in 2019; although daffodils were left at other graves, horse burials lacked any signs of such visits. This might also be due to the deep snow cover, which made it difficult to approach horse graves whereas other places had paths leading to the graves.

Findings and Further Development Whereas the human grave memorials in the predominantly Lutheran Finland are rather uniform (in 2019, 68.6 percent of Finns belonged to the Evangelical-Lutheran church), the pet cemeteries offer greater variability. Although the aesthetics and symbolism in pet cemeteries derive largely from human burial practices (Pręgowski 2016), they also offer a possibility to break the norms and rules that govern the burial practices and rituals in human cemeteries (Dresser 2000). Memorials are present on eighty-five burial mounds at the Mikonkangas Pet Cemetery. The materials and forms of funerary monuments are more varied than in human cemeteries, and they may be self-made. Both trends have also been noted at other pet cemeteries (Hyttinen, 1996). The most common type of monument is a natural stone turned into a gravestone with some modifications. Usually, the modification involves an engraved metal (most often brass) or plastic plaque attached to an otherwise untreated flat rock surface. Funerary monuments constructed of timber are also quite frequent, most often resembling a small billboard with the shape reproducing the short façade of a house with a saddle roof. Epitaphs for companion animals may contain more information about the departed than is usually the custom in human cemeteries (Pręgowski 2016). At Mikonkangas, most epitaphs of the horse burials contain only minimal information, if anything at all. In addition to the name (N = 73) and the year of death or dates referring to the lifespan (N = 58), the epi-

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taphs offer information about the deceased animal only in rare cases. We have aimed at including the variability in memorials and epitaphs in the documentation form where multiple choices and an open section were given for different materials, decorations, and memory objects related to the burials. The heterogeneity of the burials and memorials made it difficult to include all possible options in the multiple choices and some of the record fields needed modification during the documentation process. The open section options on the form were also used. During the documentation rounds that took place in different years, changes were noted in the burials. A memorial had been added to some burials, and in one case a new memorial had been added on the grave with an existing earlier memorial. There were also smaller changes such as removal or addition of flowers, candles, and lanterns. These demonstrated an active use of the burials for remembering the deceased horse. The theoretical life cycle of a burial at Mikonkangas is ten years, after which the leaseholder needs to pay for the burial place again or it can be reused. In reality, a burial might be taken over by nature at a much faster pace. We recorded changes in the appearance of the grave, as there are not similar organized caretaking or norms of well-kept graves at pet cemeteries. Human burial grounds have groundskeepers to maintain their appearance, but horse burials in pet cemeteries are more dynamic places. Taking care of a horse burial or leaving nature to take control is a constant choice. Soon weeds grow on the grave and hide possible memorials, rain and erosion wear out the markings, and also the state of the surrounding graves has an effect on the burial—unkept graves can diminish the visibility of a maintained grave. Apart from the changes in vegetation and maintenance, other phenomena became evident only after repetitive documentation rounds. There were minor changes such as adding lanterns, candles, or statuettes, but also more profound changes in the way a grave was used. For example, a grave originally designated to Capitana Frida had become a place of remembrance for two other horses too, as additional flagstones had been added. The grave number 128 (our numbering) was documented in 2017 as undecorated but had by 2020 gained a pompous memorial (Figure 9.5). Unfortunately, we do not have information about how long after the original burial this memorial was added. A new phenomenon noticed in 2020 was graves with memorials for two horses, one of which had died recently but another some years ago (Figure 9.6). This memorial stone had been removed from another grave that was currently in untidy surroundings. Repetitive documentation also made some general trends visible. Recent years have shown an increase in the number of white crosses, which were first noticed in 2019 and became more popular after that. Also,

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Figure 9.5. Grave for two horses that had died in different years. © Tiina Äikäs

black gravestones with gilded letters that are common on human burials have gained popularity. This is an interesting trend from self-made memorials to more standardized ones, which only becomes evident from repetitive documentation. The growing use of the horse section can be seen in how the space is used more intensively, the addition of signs guiding to the horses’ section, and unfortunately also in vandalism especially by the main path as well as some unintentional damage such as tractor tire marks on one grave.

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Figure 9.6. Evolution of a horse grave. Top: an undecorated grave in 2018. Bottom: A new memorial added at the grave in question, documented in 2020. © Janne Ikäheimo.

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In addition to documenting the dynamic use of the burials and changes that occurred between 2016–2020, it has been interesting to note the material culture of remembrance at the graves on Christmas and All Saints’ Day. The candles lit at the graves do not coincide with the maintenance of the graves. It is understandable that candles were not brought to all maintained graves, but, surprisingly, candles were also documented on graves that lacked any memorials or other material evidence of remembrance (Äikäs et al. in press). A few hours devoted to documentation on a public holiday can reveal practices of remembrance that would otherwise have gone unnoticed.

Discussion Both the excavations of horse burials and non-destructive documentation of the graves share some methodological and ethical considerations. We as archaeologists approach these graves in much in the same way we would human burials: using meticulous documentation, looking at context, finds, and the position of the body, and respecting the deceased. The death of a horse raises strong feelings in horse owners (Schuurman and Laurén 2016; Äikäs et al. in press), and hence it is vital to consider these stakeholders when studying their deceased horses. This was evident also when we excavated historical horse burials from the 1920s and 1950s: in both cases, the local people wanted to help us arrange a reburial of the horse. In Leppävirta in eastern Finland, about thirty people participated in the reburial. Dressed in black, and listening to a funeral speech and sharing alcohol, we all wished our very best to the deceased horse. Although the graves of famous trotters are locally known and the monuments erected on the sites are listed in the cultural heritage records of the municipality, most of the historical horse burials are unmarked spots in gardens and by the forest edges, remembered by elderly people, if by anyone at all. Because knowledge about the burials is in danger of disappearing, the need for documentation is urgent. The forgotten burials are found every now and then accidentally by cultivation and other construction works. In our project, we promote systematic documentation of these sites and saving DNA samples for future research. At the Mikonkangas pet cemetery, a similar need for documentation is raised by the temporary nature (a ten-year term) for the graves and even faster changes that occur because of lack of maintenance and weathering of the mounds. Even in four years, some monuments have changed significantly. The excavations and cemetery documentation revealed an interesting phenomenon in relation to burying and remembering horses. Erecting a memorial and remembering a horse, or even erecting a memorial

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and burying a horse, were not always connected. There were memorials at places where no horse burial was found in the excavations, and some horses were buried without memorials. Similarly, at the pet cemetery, the lack of decoration at the grave did not mean that the deceased animal was not remembered. This was evident especially during Christmas time, when candles were lit at some otherwise non-decorated burials. The excavations and repeated documentation rounds of horse burials at the pet cemetery have revealed the multifaceted nature of remembering deceased horses.

Acknowledgments The project on Finnhorses started in 2018 and has been financed by the Alfred Kordelin Foundation and Oskar Öflund Foundation, and coordinated by biologist Karin Hemmann and archaeologist Tuija Kirkinen. See https://www.helsinki.fi/en/researchgroups/interdisciplinary-researchstrategies-of-biological-cultural-heritage. We also wish to thank all the people who took part in the interviews and fieldwork.

Tiina Äikäs works as a university researcher in archaeology at the University of Oulu, Finland. Her doctoral thesis (2011) dealt with the ritual landscapes of Saami sacred places. In addition to the archaeology of religion, her research interests include place-bound memories, heritage studies, and industrial heritage. She is a PI of the project Smokestack Memories, which discusses factory smokestacks as heritage and places of local identity. Janne Ikäheimo works as a lecturer in archaeology at the University of Oulu, Finland. While his dissertation focused on ceramic cooking pots produced in Roman Africa, his current research interests include, but are not limited to, pet-burial customs in contemporary society, the use of airborne in archaeological surveying, the Early Metal Age/Bronze Age period in Northern Finland, and the introduction of metallurgy to Eastern Fennoscandia and Northwest Russia. Tuija Kirkinen is a postdoc researcher in an ERC-funded Animals Make Identities (AMI) project, which investigates human-animal relationships during the Mesolithic Stone Age. She also worked on interdisciplinary research strategies of biological cultural heritage—surveying, archiving, analyzing, and sharing historical DNA from the Finnhorses project in 2018–2020. Tuija’s background is in fiber research, human-animal studies, and GIS.

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Karin Hemman, PhD, is a biologist and researcher on the Faculty of Agriculture and Forestry, University of Helsinki. Her main interests are genetics, animal behavior, and biological cultural heritage.

References Äikäs, T., J. Ikäheimo, and R.-M. Leinonen. In press. “How to Mound a Horse? Remembrance and Thoughts of the Afterlife at a Pet Cemetery.” Society and Animals. Auster, C. J. 2018. “Content Analysis: Using Pet Cemetery Memorial Plaques to Examine Possible Changes in Conceptions of Family.” SAGE Research Methods Cases Part 2. doi:10.4135/9781526442611 Brandes, S. 2009. “The Meaning of American Pet Cemetery Gravestones.” Ethnology 48(2): 99–118. Desmond, J. C. 2016. Displaying Death and Animating Life. Human-Animal Relations in Art, Science, and Everyday Life. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Dresser, N. 2000. “The Horse Bar Mitzvah: A Celebratory Exploration of the Human– Animal Bond.” In Companion Animals and Us, ed. A. Podberscek, E. Paul, and J. Serpell, 90–107. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Gustavsson, A. 2011. Cultural Studies on Death and Dying in Scandinavia. Oslo: Novus Press. Hyttinen, S. 1996 “‘Muisto elää!’: Lemmikkieläimen kuolema ja hautamuistomerkit Helsingin eläinten hautausmaalla.” In Vitsistä videoon. Uusia kirjoituksia nykyperinteestä, ed. E.-L. Kinnunen et al., 137–155. Helsinki: Suomalaisen Kirjallisuuden Seura. Kemiläinen, J. 2007. “Suomalainen satuori Murto.” In Suomenhevonen, ed. M. Saastamoinen, 63. Espoo: Suomen Hippos. Kirkinen, T., T. Nordlund, R. Pallaskallio, M. Saastamoinen, K. Mannermaa, N.-J. Saari, P. Strandman, and K. Hemmann. Submitted. “A Community-Archaeology Project as a Multi-Voiced Narrative: Excavating the Double-Burial of Two Famous Twentieth-Century Finnhorses.” Konihauta. N.d. Kanihauta—kiskot vie eiliseen. YouTube video, accessed 13 July 2021, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rf7xzrTmeak. Kuusiluoto, H. 1998. “Uskollista eläinystävää kaivaten.” Kaleva, 29 September 1998: 24. Leinonen, R.-M. 2013. Palvelijasta terapeutiksi. Ihmisen ja hevosen suhteen muuttuvat kulttuuriset mallit Suomessa. Acta Universitatis Ouluensis B Humaniora 115. Pręgowski, M. P. 2016. “All the World and a Little Bit More: Pet Cemetery Practices and Contemporary Relations between Humans and Their Companion Animals.” In Mourning Animals. Rituals and Practices Surrounding Animal Death, ed. M. DeMello, 47–54. East Lansing: Michigan State University Press. Saastamoinen, M., ed. 2007. Suomenhevonen. Jyväskylä: Gummerus Kirjapaino. Savikko, S. 2014. “Kansallisaarre.” In Suomenhevonen: arjen sankari, ed. S. Savikko, 41–57. Somerniemi: Amanita. Schuurman, N., and A. Franklin. 2018. “A Good Time to Die: Horse Retirement Yards as Shared Spaces of Interspecies Care and Accomplishment.” Journal of Rural Studies 57: 110–117. https://dx.doi.org/10.1016/j.jrurstud.2017.12.001.

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Schuurman, N., and K. Laurén. 2016. “Eläimen kuoleman kohtaaminen perheessä.” Thanatos 5(1): 43–61. https://thanatosjournal.files.wordpress.com/2016/06/ schuurman_ja_lauren_elaimen1.pdf. Schuurman, N., and R.-M. Leinonen. 2012. “The Death of the Horse: Transforming Conceptions and Practices in Finland.” HumAnimalia: A Journal of Human/ Animal Interface Studies 4(1): 59–82. Spiegelman, V., and R. Kastenbaum. 1990. “Pet Rest Memorial: Is Eternity Running out of Time?” OMEGA—Journal of Death and Dying 21(1): 1–13. DOI: 10.2190/PBYE-N34M-PP52-ETQA Suomenhevosen varhaisvaiheiden tutkimushanke. N.d. “Suomenhevosen varhaisvaiheiden tutkimushanke.” Facebook page, accessed 25 March 2021, https://www.face book.com/groups/1739756833002506/permalink/2557950917849756/. Toivonen, V. 2008. Hevoset etukaarteessa. Hevosia, ihmisiä ja ilmiöitä. Vaasa: Villähde. Tourigny, E. 2020. “Do All Dogs Go to Heaven? Tracking Human-Animal Relationships through the Archaeological Survey of Pet Cemeteries.” Antiquity 94(378): 1614–1629. doi:10.15184/aqy.2020.191.

CHAPTER 10

Preserving the Rainbow Bridge A Guide to Recording Pet Cemeteries Eric Tourigny

Introduction Over the past few decades, many in the Western and predominantly Christian world referenced the crossing of the “Rainbow Bridge” as a metaphor for animal death, signalling that the animal is awaiting their human companions in an afterlife. The metaphor became popular in the pet industry following publication of a series of poems of uncertain origins in the 1980s, as evidenced by an increased number of social media posts, condolence cards, and a pet bereavement support network by the same name (Gardner 2018; Magliocco 2018: 48). The study of popular narratives that attempt to explain what happens following the death of an animal (such as “crossing the rainbow bridge,” “resting in peace,” or “visiting the farm”) allows researchers to investigate changing human conceptions of the roles of non-human animals in the lives and afterlives of people (Magliocco 2018). Pet cemeteries represent a material manifestation of this changing narrative, where gravestone designs and inscriptions inform mainstream and vernacular ontologies, providing a physical place that allows us to explore past and present human-animal relationships. Archaeologists have successfully used human cemeteries to reconstruct changing attitudes toward life and death, and to address a variety of research questions. Examples range from studies reconstructing local demographics and interpersonal relationships, to those looking at the role of memorialization and commemoration in bereavement (e.g., Cannon 1989; Dethlefson and Deetz 1966; Tarlow 1999; Mytum 1990, 1993; Parker-Pearson 1982). Like human burial grounds, pet cemeteries provide insight into the relationships people held in life, how they coped with grief following the loss of that relationship, and their beliefs on religion and an afterlife (Tourigny 2020). As society’s attitudes toward human-

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animal relationships have changed, so have burial and memorial styles. Pet cemetery studies allow us to address a similar range of questions but with a focus on human-animal relationships and the emotional connections people held with animals (Howell 2002; Kean 2013; Tourigny 2020). For example, what role did animals play in people’s lives—were they seen as pets, companions, or members of the family? Did people grant personhood to animals? How did people cope with the loss of animals? How did people envision their relationship with animals into the afterlife? Pet graves and gravestones also provide a unique opportunity to identify and record individual animal histories, giving archaeologists a chance to further contribute to the writing of historic animal biographies (e.g., Hull 2020; Krebber and Roscher 2018; Tourigny et al. 2016). Studying human-animal relationships through gravestones requires adopting an appropriate data collection strategy. At first glance, gravestones dedicated to non-human animals appear similar to those observed in human cemeteries. They are immediately recognized as grave markers, exhibit names and dates, and as an assemblage contain all of the elements that make the space an easily recognizable cemetery. However, pet cemeteries are organized in a different way: gravestones contain information not seen on human memorials, and special attention to different types of information are needed to address a greater range of research questions. Originally informed by the human cemetery recording strategies described by Mytum (2000), this paper presents a modified recording strategy for gravestones and monuments erected for non-human animals.

A Brief History of Pet Burials Animal burials are not unique to the post-medieval period, and neither are memorials dedicated to non-humans. Archaeologists working around the world continuously encounter animal burials from different periods. From hunter/gatherer societies of the Old and New Worlds to ancient civilizations of Egypt and Rome, archaeologists have investigated animal burials to reflect on past relationships between species (e.g., Ikram 2013; Morey 2006; Osypińska 2016; Pluskowski 2012). Dogs, as inherently social species, are often the centre of attention as evidence of the special treatment of their remains inevitably leads to discussions of the unique bonds they can form with humans (Morey 2006; Morris 2011). In Britain, commemorative or funerary monuments dedicated to named animals and dating prior to the post-medieval period are uncommon (for some British examples, see Wilson 2020). The practice of erecting gravestones for animals became increasingly popular from the nineteenth century onward (Tourigny 2020). Given the relatively recent nature of these

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burials, it is easier for modern scholars to infer the relationship people had with these animals (as pets, service animals, working animals, or animals used in entertainment or in sport). While individual animals may have had different roles in life, the act of commemoration identifies a need on behalf of the human(s) to mark a place of burial and perhaps mourn and/ or remember them. The late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries witnessed a significant increase in gravestone use and an expansion of human cemeteries as populations boomed. The primary function of graveyards changed to become spaces of grief, emotion, and remembrance (Tarlow 1999). There was a similar increase in the commemoration of animals throughout the nineteenth century. At first, individual gravestones commemorating a household’s animals began appearing in a number of country houses and stately homes (Buckle 2019: 18–19; Toms 2006). The first public pet cemetery was founded in London’s Hyde Park following the death of a dog named Cherry in 1881 (Hodgetts 1893). Other public pet cemeteries soon appeared elsewhere in the Western hemisphere. The Hartsdale Cemetery in New York’s Westchester County was founded in 1896 and the Cimetière des Chiens in Paris in 1899 (Kean 2013). Early use of pet cemeteries was the prerogative of wealthier members of society, as evidenced by the locations of cemeteries and the quality of their monuments. By the mid-twentieth century, pet cemeteries became increasingly common and used by a greater segment of society. Today, the pet loss industry provides a wide range of services, from funeral services to cremation, burials, memorials, and even soft-tissue preservation. As an unregulated industry, no official figures are available on the total profits. However, the number of service providers is increasing, and it is now estimated that 50 percent of the UK adult population have at least one pet (PDSA 2019). An estimated 1 percent of all pet owners in Britain choose pet cemeteries while the majority of other bereaved owners choose cremation or home burial (Kevin Spurgeon, Association of Private Pet Cemeteries and Crematoria—personal communication). Human cemeteries offer unique spaces to study the landscapes and material culture of grief. Buckham (1999: 200) describes them as “setting[s] where tensions are present between ideology and practice, the ritual and the mundane, the public and the private, and the individual and the group. The erection of memorials in the cemetery is a public act within a civic space that commemorates individuals by both their perceived and actual social personas.” This is no less true for pet cemeteries, where individual animals and the relationships they held with people are commemorated, and where the private act of mourning is done publicly. People can be just as grief-stricken by the loss of a close animal relationship as they would be for the loss of a person (Gerwolls and Labott 1994). Society at

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large might not be as understanding of grief related to pet loss, adding stress to the bereaved, who feel their behavior does not fit cultural norms (Doka 2008; Mansfield 2016). In the UK, pet bereavement support organizations like the Blue Cross offer emotional support to bereaved pet owners. The pet cemetery movement partly developed out of a need to mourn animals, and these spaces highlight societal tensions around the roles of animals in society and the perceived roles of animals in the afterlife (Tourigny 2020).

Pet Cemetery Recording These guidelines are informed by a survey undertaken by the author of four historic pet cemeteries in England. The cemeteries included the United Kingdom’s first public pet cemetery at Hyde Park as well as others dating up to the late twentieth century. The results are described in Tourigny (2020).

Location and Organization Prior to recording individual gravestones, it is important to note their location in the wider landscape. Is the gravestone on its own, or is it part of an assemblage forming a cemetery? Are they located in the same cemetery as human beings? If so, is there a separate section for animals, or are human and animals sharing a space? Are pet cemeteries located on consecrated grounds, in public spaces, or on private land? Are they easily accessible by the public? Do they feature prominently in the local landscape? As the recording of gravestones is underway, it is important to keep in mind the organization of the burial grounds. It is useful to record the cemetery in a systematic fashion, first by following obvious divisions or groupings of gravestones and then recording the gravestones by row if this is an option. Relating individual gravestones to GPS coordinates or plotting them on a map using Geographic Information Software (GIS) is also useful for identifying how burials are organized within the cemetery (for example, whether by date or species), as discussed by Aikas et al. (this volume, Chapter 9). Providing answers to the questions raised here allows researchers to explore the boundaries that people create between species, and the relationships formed with them in life and the afterlife. Identifying the physical spaces animals are “allowed” to occupy permits researchers to investigate the moral and ethical dimensions of people’s relationship with other species (Howell 2002). Animal cemeteries can be seen as places of overlapping and/or competing geographies (Kean 2013: 30–31). Pet

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cemeteries further represent a space in which specifically chosen animals (pets) are kept apart from others such as strays, food animals, and wild animals (Mangum 2007: 31). In Japan, where many pet cemeteries are located on spaces occupied by Buddhist temples, separate human and animal sections are interpreted as evidence that pets occupy a liminal space in people’s lives, where they are not human but closer to humans than other animals (Ambros 2010). Gaillement (2009) offers a similar interpretation of historic pet cemeteries in Paris, which are located in grounds kept separate from human cemeteries. In Britain, historic pet cemeteries tend to be located on non-consecrated grounds and away from human burials, such as in the gardens of country houses or in public parks (Tourigny 2020). Today, an increasing number of privately owned pet cemeteries offers an opportunity to bury people with animals in a shared space.

Animal Gravestones Upon first glance, the gravestones erected for animals do not appear very dissimilar to those erected for humans. Within the surveyed pet cemeteries, grave locations were organized in a mostly orderly and planned fashion. Most grounds were organized into sections delineated by property boundaries, natural features such as trees or bushes, and footpaths. Within each section, gravestones were (mostly) positioned in rows, usually within a pre-defined, specific plot size, and with an even amount of space separating adjacent headstones.

Typology As with nineteenth- and twentieth-century human cemeteries, a variety of memorial types with a certain degree of standardization appear in the pet cemetery. Headstones are by far the most common form of memorial for animals. Their overall shape represents simple versions of the headstones seen in contemporary human cemeteries but with fewer design elements. Flat-topped and round-topped headstones are common as are Gothicstyled pointed headstones and slightly curved ones (Figure 10.1, A–C). By far the most common type of headstone in the nineteenth century was a sinuous-topped headstone with shoulders (Figure 10.1D). The overall range of headstone shapes can easily be recorded with reference to Mytum’s (2000: 111–112) cataloguing system; for the revised version, see Mytum (2019 and this volume, Chapter 6). The desk form of memorial became increasingly popular in the mid- to late twentieth century, often taking the shape of an open book or scroll, or, as is especially the case at the PDSA cemetery in Ilford, a standard desk form with an open space for offerings such as flowers or planted shrubs

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A

B

C

D

Figure 10.1. Headstone shapes commonly observed in British pet cemeteries. A: Flat-topped; B: round-topped; C: Gothic-style pointed; D: Sinuous-topped headstone with shoulders. All photographs of headstones from the Hyde Park Pet Cemetery taken by Eric Tourigny with permission of The Royal Parks.

(Figure 10.2A). Ledgers are common but rarely raised off the ground to form low monuments. Other memorial types such as pedestal tombs and crosses are occasionally present, but chest and table tombs or mausoleums were not observed. Curbs were often present to delineate the burial plot with the headstone at one end. On occasion, the monument is comprised entirely of a kerb (Figure 10.2B). Additional features like candleholders

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A

B

C

D

Figure 10.2. A: Desk memorial, erected to the memories of Sally and Flossie (died 1955); B: Kerb memorial, erected to the memory of Sammy a “Wire-haired Terrier Pal who died 17 June 1958, Aged 11 years.” C: Headstone, 1899, demonstrating the use of quotation marks on either side of the pet’s name. D: Headstone, 1958, demonstrating the placement of a family surname (Clarke) in brackets. A, B, D from the PDSA Pet Cemetery, C from Hyde Park Pet Cemetery. © Eric Tourigny; C taken with permission of The Royal Parks.

or vases, planters and statues can also adorn the grave. These can also be recorded using Mytum’s (2000; 2019) coding system. The use of kerbs and footstones, in addition to other features and textual evidence, suggests use of the metaphor of sleep as a concept for death (Tarlow 1999), as was often observed in British pet cemeteries. The adoption of this

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metaphor is correlated with a belief in the reunion of human and animal in afterlife (Tourigny 2020). Headstones for human memorials of the eighteenth and nineteenth century typically increase in size, becoming larger and more prominent by the late nineteenth century, when their social value increases (Mytum 2000: 10). However, animal gravestones from this period are distinctly smaller despite their shapes being influenced by contemporary designs. At the Hyde Park Pet Cemetery, stones had an average height of 32 cm, with a standard deviation (SD) of 7.3 cm, from the ground (admittedly, this was variable given the differential amount of soil built up around different sections of the site) and an average width of 24 cm (SD 3.6cm). The thickness of the stone was even more standardized, with the majority (69 percent) being precisely 5 cm thick (average 5 cm, SD 2 cm). As we progress into the twentieth century, some pet cemeteries displayed a proliferation of larger and more complex gravestones while others continued to rely on standardized shapes of smaller stones. The standardization of overall shape, style, and organization of gravestones within each surveyed cemetery suggests the supply was organized and that only a few stonemasons provided them. It is important to note that some pet cemeteries supply clients with gravestones, offering a limited range of gravestone designs, which can significantly impact the interpretation of the data.

Symbols, Decoration, and Lettering Animal memorials exhibit the same range of inscription and décor methods as those observed in human cemeteries (e.g., Incised, Inlaid, relief, painted, applied). In this way, it is easy to follow established protocols like those set out by Mytum (2000: 121–224) to record these features. Differences in lettering can be useful to identify different phases of the monument’s use (Mytum 2002). Symbols and décor provide information on attitudes toward death and religion and can be revealing of the identities given to animals. While Victorian and early twentieth-century (pre-World War I) human gravestones in Britain are generally noted to be large and elaborate in design with heavy symbolism, the contemporary pet cemeteries are remarkably plain. Of the 336 surveyed gravestones dating to before 1917, only four had additional design elements such as engraved symbols or decorative elements. The majority of gravestones only contained text. Symbolic motifs commonly identified on human gravestones (e.g., mortality symbols, cherubs and angels, figures or elements of classical revival like broken columns and obelisks) are rare if not missing entirely. By the mid-twentieth century, more decorative design elements appear but these are often part of the pre-designed gravestone template such as a decora-

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tive foliate border. Symbolic engravings and design elements appear more frequently in the later twentieth century. Some engravings feature flowers, other images of animals (presumably a likeness of the deceased), and some feature religious symbols. Tourigny (2020) describes the appearance of the Christian cross on animal gravestones following World War II and correlates it with pet owners feeling more at ease in expressing ideas of an animal afterlife in an increasingly secular society.

Text As with human gravestones, most animal memorials contain standard categories of information such as the names of the deceased and dates of death. However, unlike human grave markers, there are slight yet significant differences in the way this information is presented, which may lead to significantly different interpretations of human-animal relationships.

Names Individual pet names, whether Rex, Spot, Lady, Topsey, or Bogey, are often commemorated on the gravestones, but there is great variation on how a name is inscribed. The location of the name on the gravestone must be noted as well as the size of the name relative to other categories of information. In some cases, the animal’s name is top and centre while on other occasions, it is alongside the name of the pet owner and in smaller text. Many gravestones commemorate multiple individuals. Occasionally, they are individuals who died around the same time and are subsequently buried together. In other cases, commemorators planned ahead and left additional space on the gravestone for names to be added at a future date, providing information on whether a household contained multiple animals (either at once or successively). Sometimes, names are added on any available surface, including the tops, sides, and back of the headstone, or on the kerb elements. This indicates that the household did not originally plan to bury other individuals in the same place. For gravestones with multiple dates, it is generally assumed that the earliest date of death is nearest to the date the memorial was first created. Unlike human gravestones, the appearance of a family surname is not always expected. In British pet cemeteries, family surnames begin to regularly appear in the mid-twentieth century, providing evidence for how people conceptualized their relationship to these animals in life, whether as pets, companions, or family members (Tourigny 2020). The location and relative text size of the surname should be recorded. An interesting feature of animal gravestones not regularly observed in human cemeteries is the appearance of quotation marks on either side of

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the animal’s given name (Figure 10.2C). These appear on nearly every gravestone until the 1930s and feature regularly in gravestones dating to the second half of the twentieth century. Similarly, some of the earliest gravestones to display family surnames do so in brackets (Figure 10.2D). Reasons for this are uncertain but may suggest an uneasiness about giving an animal a name or family surname in a context traditionally associated with Christian burial. Some stones might not have a pet name and, like an example from the Hyde Park Pet Cemetery, simply be dedicated to “My dearest friend” and initialled “M.”

Commemorator In that last example, “M” represents the initial of the commemorator. The commemorator’s name(s) or initials are often present on pet tombstones. It is important to record these separately and pay attention to their prominence on the stone. These tend to appear as initials or full names in a lower corner of the gravestone. Some individuals prefer to use descriptors of a relationship, such as “friend,” “owner,” or “mummy/ daddy,” instead of their names. These obviously provide information on how people saw their relationship with animals and is worth paying close attention to.

Species/Breed Unlike most human cemeteries, multiple species are buried in pet cemeteries. This information is occasionally revealed on the gravestone. One must be careful not to assume that names typically given to cats or dogs (e.g., Kitty for cats, Rex for dogs) represent evidence for the buried species. Some graves provide information on breed; Jack (d. 1904) is remembered on his headstone as “an affectionate poodle.” Documents suggest that most of gravestones in early pet cemeteries in Britain are for dogs, with an increasing proportion of cats and other animals commemorated throughout the twentieth century (Tourigny 2020: 1618).

Introductory Statements In a similar approach to the design of human gravestones, animal memorials have opening statements that may reveal attitudes toward commemoration and/or death. Perhaps unsurprisingly, many will begin with statements like “In loving memory of.” Such statements identify the intended purpose of memorialization. More effusive opening statements like “To our sweet little . . . ” or “My darling . . .” illustrate emotion or sentiments in the act of memorialization with the possessive determiner

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providing a clue about the nature of the relationship as that between an owner and a pet. Similarly, opening statements like “Here rests . . .” invokes the death as sleep metaphor so often used in nineteenth-century human cemeteries (Tarlow 1999).

Epitaphs Epitaphs provide a wealth of information to address multiple research questions. They may contain information on the nature of the relationship between people and animals, beliefs on the animal’s role in the afterlife, emotions experienced by the survivors upon the loss of the relationship, and virtues commemorators wish to remember about the deceased. These usually focus on fidelity, obedience, and lovingness, thus informing us of the qualities desired in pet animals by a society. The epitaphs may also describe cause of death, whether accidental, merciful, or malicious (Figure 10.3, A–C).

Offerings Tending to the memory of an individual continues long after erection of the gravestone as people visit the grave, maintain it, and occasionally lay flowers or other objects in an act of mourning and remembrance (Ellis 2003). It is important to record evidence of any maintenance of gravestones and any objects deposited at the gravesite (see Aikas et al. this volume) to get a sense of how long after death an individual is remembered. The people who knew the deceased are not the only ones who tend to gravestones and provide offerings. Some gravestones elicit certain emotions from passers-by or visitors who then feel compelled to care for them (Figure 3D).

The Form The recording form presented here (Figure 10.4) is inspired and informed by the protocol presented in Mytum (2000) for the recording of human cemeteries and further refined by my own fieldwork experience recording historic pet cemeteries in Britain. The form is relatively simple, allowing space to record the different types of information commonly observed on pet gravestones. The form can be easily modified to add or remove categories of data that are unique to the memorials you are recording or to focus on a specific research question. Most entry points on the form are self-explanatory or further explained in the previous section of this paper and in Figure 10.5. Following stan-

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A

B

C

D

Figure 10.3. Examples of headstones noting the manner of death. A: Headstone for the poodle named Turk who was “Run Over” on 3 April 1898. B: Headstone for Patch, died October 1893. The epitaph reads: “A friend of a lifetime and for thirteen years a devoted companion. She suffered and those who loved her best helped her to pass on.” C: Headstone to the memory of Fritz and their son Balu who was “Poisoned by a Cruel Swiss” in Berne in 1899. D: Some recipients of the Dickin Medal for their work in World War II are buried at the PDSA pet cemetery in Ilford, UK. The clean and maintained marble headstones of the two medal recipients pictured here clearly contrast against the unmaintained burials of other pets erected around the same time. All photographs taken by Eric Tourigny, A, B, C with permission of The Royal Parks.

dard cemetery recording protocols, the most effective recording strategy is a systematic one whereby gravestones are recorded in a logical order (e.g., stone by stone, row by row). Each recorded gravestone should be assigned a unique identifying number (Memorial #). Remember to take photographs of the cemetery space more generally so that you can later visualize where individual gravestones are within the wider cemetery. Digital photographs are very useful and photograph numbers should be

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Figure 10.4. Field recording form template for pet cemeteries. Image created by Eric Tourigny.

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Figure 10.5. Coding system to help quickly assess monuments in the field and consistently fill out forms. Image created by Eric Tourigny from Mytum (2000).

carefully recorded on the form. Digital photographs are easy to take and useful in recording certain aspects of a gravestone (e.g., intricate designs, the state of wear and erosion). One is easily tempted to shorten the time spent in the field by quickly taking photographs of each gravestone and later recording the details as observed from the photographs, directly into a digital database. This is inadvisable, as many gravestone inscriptions do not show up well in photographs. Deciphering the text often relies on needing to get up close to the stone, touch the surface, and observe the shadows cast from light applied from different directions. If time in the field is limited, prioritize taking multiple detailed photographs, taking measurements, and transcribing the full inscription onto the form. Other fields of information can be taken later from these records to populate the rest of the form. While one’s time in the field may

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vary greatly, it is possible to fully record sixty to eighty pet gravestones per day if weather conditions are suitable. The form provides a space to record multiple individuals who share the same gravestone (up to three). If more individuals are commemorated on the gravestone, you can append additional forms to that specific record to include the names of additional pets. A large space is dedicated to transcribing the text inscription. Use upperand lower-case lettering as it appears on the stone and a “¦” symbol to indicate a line break. Some gravestones contain lengthy inscriptions, which can be transcribed onto the back of the form if the space on the front is used up. A small box is provided to include a quick sketch to help illustrate how the text interacts with various design elements of the gravestone. A coding system detailed in Mytum (2000: 99–119; 2019) can be used to record memorial type and gravestone shape. I have found that few pet gravestone shapes deviate from the standard shapes presented by Mytum. New shapes or forms can be added to the dataset. Upon returning from the field, the data should be transferred into a digital database. Relational databases, such as Microsoft Access, provide more options for querying the data. Depending on the research question, queries can be related to the analysis of terms that inform on the relationship between human and animal (e.g., pet, friend, family terms), evidence for religion (e.g., religious symbols, bible verses), and attitudes to death and the afterlife (i.e., reunion, heaven, sleep metaphor). The act of transferring data from the recording sheets is a time-consuming one, but worth the effort as it provides an additional opportunity to catch errors in transcription and to organize the photographs and records. The paper recording forms also act as a physical backup of the data.

Conclusion Pet cemeteries represent a significant, yet mostly unacknowledged, source of data for addressing important research questions about human-animal relationships. The questions addressed are relevant to interdisciplinary research such as bereavement studies and animal studies. In my own experience of conducting these surveys, I find that many people are interested in understanding why one is recording these spaces, in engaging with the research, and in talking about their own pets (dead or alive). They often discuss how much these spaces mean to them and how regularly they visit. Such interactions provide further insight into the sense of place these cemeteries hold to the local community. The form presented in this paper ensures the raw data are appropriately collected to address a range of research questions. As is the case with any

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research project, one must carefully consider whether the recording strategy will allow the relevant questions to be addressed. The form can be easily modified to meet other research questions. New gravestone types can be provided with codes, and new categories of data can be added to the sheet.

Acknowledgments The author wishes to thank The Royal Parks for providing access to the Hyde Park Pet Cemetery and to the Society for Post-Medieval Archaeology for providing a research grant that made the survey possible.

Eric Tourigny is a lecturer in Historical Archaeology at Newcastle University, following a period as archaeological field director in British Columbia and sessional lecturer at Laurentian University. As part of the study on changing attitudes toward animals, he is conducting an archaeological investigation into the memorialization of pets across the British landscape and is also investigating the origins of the modern animal welfare movement using a combination of archaeological and historical evidence.

References Ambros, B. R. 2010. “The Necrogeography of Pet Memorial Spaces: Pets as Liminal Family Members in Contemporary Japan.” Material Religion 6(3): 304–335. Buckham, S. 1999. “‘The Men That Worked for England They Have Their Graves at Home’: Consumerist Issues Within the Production and Purchase of Gravestones in Victorian York.” In The Familiar Past? Archaeologies of Later Historical Britain, ed. S. Tarlow and S. West, 199–214. London: Routledge. Buckle, J. 2019. Monumental Tales. Cambridge: The Lutterworth Press. Cannon, A. 1989. “The Historical Dimension in Mortuary Expressions of Status and Sentiment.” Current Anthropology 30(4): 437–458. Dethlefson, E., and J. Deetz. 1966. “Death’s Heads, Cherubs and Willow Trees: Experimental Archaeology in Colonial Cemeteries.” American Antiquity 31(4): 502–510. Doka, K. J. 2008. “Disenfranchised Grief in a Historical and Cultural Perspective.” In Handbook of Bereavement Research and Practice: Advances in Theory and Intervention, ed. M. S. Stroebe, R. O. Hansson, H. Schut, and W. Stroebe, 223–240. Washington, DC: American Psychological Association. Ellis, C. 2003. “Grave Tending: With Mom at the Cemetery.” Forum: Qualitative Social Research 4(2): Art. 28, http://nbnresolving.de/urn:nbn:de:0114-fqs0302285. Gaillemin, B. 2009. “Vivre Et Construire La Mort Des Animaux: Le Cimetière d’Asnières.” Ethnologie Française, Nouvelle Série 39(3): 495–507.

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Gardner, A. M. 2018. “What Is the Rainbow Bridge and Why Do We Think Dead Pets Cross It?” The Washington Post, 1 May 2018. Gerwolls, M. K., and S. M. Labott. 1994. “Adjustment to the Death of a Companion Animal.” Anthrozoös 7(3): 172–187. Hodgetts, E. A. B. 1893. “A Cemetery for Dogs.” Strand Magazine 6: 625–633. Howell, P. 2002. “A Place for the Animal Dead: Pets, Pet Cemeteries and Animal Ethics in Late Victorian Britain.” Ethics, Place & Environment: A Journal of Philosophy and Geography 5(1): 5–22. Hull, E. 2020. “Love and Death: Theoretical and Practical Examination of HumanAnimal Relations in Creating Wild Animal Osteobiography.” Society & Animals 1: 1–21. Ikram, S. 2013. “Man’s Best Friend for Eternity: Dog and Human Burials in Ancient Egypt.” Anthropozoologica 48: 299–307. http://dx.doi.org/10.5252/ az2013n2a8. Kean, H. 2013. “Human and Animal Space in Historic ‘Pet’ Cemeteries in London, New York and Paris.” In Animal Death, ed. J. Johnston and F. Probyn-Rapsey, 21–42. Sydney: Sydney University Press. Krebber, A., and M. Roscher, ed. 2018. Animal Biography: Re-framing Animal Lives. Cham, Switzerland: Palgrave MacMillan. Magliocco, S. 2018. “Beyond the Rainbow Bridge: Vernacular Ontologies of Animal Afterlives.” Journal of Folklore Research 55(2): 39–67. Mangum, T. 2007. “Animal Angst: Victorians Memorialize their Pets.” In Victorian Animal Dreams: Representations of Animals in Victorian Literature and Culture, ed. D. Denenholz Morseand and M. A. Danahay, 15–34. New York: Routledge. Mansfield, P. M. 2016. “Extending the Mourning, Funeral and Memorialization Consumption Practices to the Human-Pet Relationship.” In Death in Consumer Culture, ed. S. Dobscha, 155–169. London: Routledge. Morey, D. F. 2006. “Burying Key Evidence: the Social Bond between Dogs and People.” Journal of Archaeological Science 33: 158–175. Morris, J. 2011. Investigating Animal Burials: Ritual, Mundane and beyond. BAR British Series, no 535. Oxford: British Archaeological Reports. Mytum, H. 1990. “A Study of Pembrokeshire Graveyards: Cultural Variability in Material and Language.” Bulletin of the C. B. A. Churches Committee 27: 6–11. ———. 1993 “Death and Identity: Strategies in Body Disposal and Memorial at North Front Cemetery, Gibraltar.” In In Search of Cult: Archaeological Investigations in Honour of Philip Rahtz, ed. M. Carver, 187–192. Woodbridge: Boydell Press. ———. 2000. Recording and Analysing Graveyards. Council for British Archaeology, York. ———. 2002. “The Dating of Graveyard Memorials: Evidence from the Stones.” Post-Medieval Archaeology 36: 1–38. ———. 2019. “Recording and Analysing Burial Grounds Advice Documentation, Sections Carrying out a Project, Recording, Identifying Monument Types, Photography and Additional Recording, Making a Plan.” Retrieved 20 July 2021 from http://www.debs.ac.uk. Osypińska, M. 2016. “Pet Cats at the Early Roman Red Sea Port of Berenike, Egypt.” Antiquity 90(354): e5. doi:10.15184/aqy.2016.181.

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Parker-Pearson, M. 1982. “Mortuary Practices, Society and Ideology: An Ethnoarchaeological Study.” In Symbolic and Structural Archaeology, ed. I. Hodder, 99–113. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. PDSA. 2019. “Paw Report 2019.” Electronic document. Retrieved 25 August 2020 from pdsa.org.uk. Pluskowski, A., ed. 2012. The Ritual Killing and Burial of Animals. European Perspectives. Oxford: Oxbow Books. Tarlow, S. 1999. Bereavement and Commemoration: An Archaeology of Mortality. Oxford: Blackwell. Toms, J. 2006. Animal Graves and Memorials. Princes Risborough, Buckinghamshire: Shire Publications Ltd. Tourigny, E. 2020. “Do All Dogs Go to Heaven? Tracking Inter-Species Social Relationships through Archaeological Surveys of Pet Cemeteries.” Antiquity 94 (378): 1614–1629. Tourigny, E., R. Thomas, E. Guiry, R. Earp, A. Allan, J. L. Rothenburger, D. Lawler, and M. Nussbaumer. 2016. “An Osteobiography of a 19th-Century Dog from Toronto, Canada.” International Journal of Osteoarchaeology 26: 818–829. Wilson, J. 2020. “Sit! The Brydges Monument at Ludgershall, Wiltshire.” In The Monuments Man: Essays in Honour of Jerome Bertram, ed. C. Steer, 411–426. Donington, UK: Shaun Tyas Publishing.

PART III

Archiving and Dissemination

CHAPTER 11

Discovering England’s Burial Spaces Digital Archives and Their Potential for Burial Space Research Toby Pillatt, Gareth Beale, Katie Green, Julian D. Richards, and Nicole Smith

Introduction Burial grounds are important heritage sites and shared community places. They preserve important natural habitats and historic landscapes within urban areas, and provide a resource for community history, biography, and storytelling. Consequently, they are often of great interest to local community groups who enjoy looking after their burial grounds and researching the people that have been laid to rest there. In part, this volume addresses the long-standing problem that, whether conducted by archaeologists, heritage professionals, or enthusiastic amateurs, local burial ground research is often unsystematic. Different people and various groups tend to apply different survey methodologies and take conflicting approaches to documentation and dissemination. There is generally also a lack of consideration for the sustainability of the information collected, or for facilitating its subsequent re-use. As burial monument recording enters the digital area, a lack of awareness of the fragility of digital data and the need for data management planning is also often absent (Mytum et al. 2015). Yet by ensuring the long-term preservation of, and open access to, their data in a digital archive, community groups can gain professional recognition and enhance the future research value of their labors. While archaeologists and heritage professionals are accustomed to the idea of “preservation by record,” and the need for those records to be durable, comparable, and accessible in perpetuity, there is a lack of under-

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standing as to how this can best be achieved when working with burial grounds and their monuments. Individual community groups can have quite different objectives, and conduct surveys or make graveyard plans for a variety of different reasons. Whether graveyard research focuses on the people documented (on memorials and in burial records) or the material forms of commemoration, the lack of standardization can make it difficult to aggregate data across multiple projects. This issue is magnified when datasets remain in private possession, which is frequently the case because local archives and records offices lack the resources to accession and curate them (Mytum et al. 2015). It can also be hard to discover which burial grounds have previously been surveyed, potentially leading to duplication of effort. This chapter addresses the issues of archiving, access, and standardization as they relate to burial ground surveys in England, although the problems and principles will find analogs globally. The UK’s Archaeology Data Service (ADS) has applied its expertise to define the benefits and potential issues surrounding digital archiving of burial ground data sets. One key problem is that the introduction of digital technology to surveying workflows can present challenges to individuals and groups, and while it is true that the gradual transition from paper to digital datasets could make surveys more amenable to research, digital data improperly curated can be even more vulnerable to loss. These issues have been explored through the lens of the Discovering England’s Burial Spaces (DEBS) project (DEBS 2020). Over the course of two years, DEBS worked with a wide array of stakeholder organizations and community groups to create a standardized methodology and workflow for surveying burial spaces, focused primarily on describing the material form of memorials (Mytum 2019, this volume, Chapter 6). A new set of digital tools and resources was designed to support the recording system, resulting in a burial spaces module for the OASIS online reporting system, a national framework used to notify local and national heritage bodies of ongoing archaeology projects, and the Burial Spaces Research Database (BSRD), a new national repository for storing survey results and facilitating research that transcends isolated sites (OASIS n.d.). A prototype mobile application and a system of online forms and spreadsheets were developed to help support the new workflow, but consultation and user testing with partner community groups revealed issues relating to digital literacy, access to technology, and the utility of devices in the field (Pillatt et al. 2021). The chapter discusses the rationale for producing these digital tools and resources, how working with community groups prompted rethinks and redesigns, and some of the barriers to adoption that remain following the completion of the project.

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Making Burial Space Data Findable, Accessible, Interoperable, and Reusable (FAIR) In England, it has been estimated that there are between sixteen thousand and eighteen thousand burial spaces managed by the Church of England, with many more run by community groups and local councils (Ministry of Justice 2007). Several of our most significant burial spaces are managed on a voluntary basis or are cared for by organizations with little or no official remit to look after the burials themselves, and these spaces are instead now nature reserves, community gardens, and parks. Unlike other countries in Europe, the UK does not have an active centralized record of burial, and instead the records are managed locally. For instance, for the Church of England, registers of burials are deposited with the Diocesan Records Office, but this does not necessarily include locations of burials within the physical space of the churchyard, nor does it record information about the memorials themselves; locations of burials, in paper or digital format, are cared for by the Parochial Church Council but may never be archived. Local councils will keep plans and details of burials in cemeteries as part of their responsibility under the Local Authorities Cemeteries Order 1977, but may have limited public or research access. As this overview indicates, there is little opportunity for historians or researchers into family histories to gain an overview across multiple burial spaces, or for archaeologists or art historians to conduct straightforward research into the makeup of spaces across the UK. The DEBS project aimed to bring together the disparate resources available for burial space research and provide a new workflow for community groups involved in surveying burial spaces as part of projects to find out more about a local space. This involved designing a standardized system for recording extant monuments within burial grounds and cemeteries, so that datasets are interoperable—that is, so that the results from one survey can be easily integrated and compared the results of another. It also required the creation of a central place in which burial ground surveys can be archived, ensuring that data are findable, accessible, and therefore reusable. Findability, accessibility, interoperability and reusability are the components of the FAIR Principles, an international framework for facilitating data discovery and re-use (Wilkinson et al. 2016). The DEBS project was therefore committed to ensuring that burial ground data are compatible with FAIR, and at the heart of this was a recognition that digitization can enable quick and easy compilation, sharing, and interrogation of data. Of course, others have seen value in the digitization of burial ground datasets, and there are other applications that collect crowd-sourced burial space data, including Billion Graves

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LLC (https://billiongraves.com/), Find A Grave (https://www.findag rave.com/), and Ireland-based Eachtra Archaeological Project: Historic Graves (https:///historicgraves.com/). However, these initiatives do not provide users with easy access to the datasets added using their interfaces; instead the longevity of data are tied into the commercial viability of each enterprise. This matters because digital material is inherently fragile. In the analog world, the rate of degradation or depreciation of an asset is relatively slow, but digital materials can become obsolete and inaccessible extremely quickly (Forde 2002). A fundamental trait of digital materials is their machine-dependency. Information can only be accessed through the use of specific hardware (i.e., a computer) combined with the correct software. As technology advances, which it does rapidly, this dependency develops into a complex chain of inter-dependencies that require high-quality metadata to document and extensive curation to maintain (Gililand 2011). The loss of a single link in this chain can result in lost data. It is important, therefore, that digital data are archived and curated correctly. The robustness and sustainability of a digital repository’s preservation policies and procedures can be measured against a number of accreditation schemes, of which the one to have gained the most widespread acceptance is the CoreTrustSeal (n.d.). Accredited repositories must demonstrate that datasets are continually migrated through changing technology, and made accessible to users operating in different computing environments. At the time of writing, the only accredited digital archive in the UK for heritage data is the Archaeology Data Service (ADS n.d.). The ADS is a discipline-specific digital archive with over twenty-five years of experience in curating all types of heritage data from the UK and beyond. The ADS ensures data in its archive are FAIR by providing free public access to all data via online search and download facilities. Drawing on expertise within the ADS so as to adhere to FAIR principles, the DEBS project built the Burial Spaces Research Database (BSRD) to enable community groups to share their survey results and facilitate research that transcends isolated sites (Pillatt et al. 2020). The BSRD is structured to mirror the standardized recording system and typology produced by Harold Mytum and updated within the DEBS project (Mytum, this volume, Chapter 6), meaning that datasets from different surveys are interoperable, allowing connections and comparisons to be made within and between local research projects. This is facilitated by a sophisticated search interface that allows users to interrogate the archived data using a variety of different criteria, with the potential to reveal previously unrecognized temporal and spatial trends in the post-medieval history of commemoration (Figure 11.1). The BSRD interface allows users to search across memorials drawn from as many burial space datasets as are depos-

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Figure 11.1. The search interface of the BSRD can facilitate complex queries. Screen capture by Toby Pillatt, Gareth Beale, Katie Green, Julian D. Richards, and Nicole Smith.

ited with the ADS, but each dataset also exists as a standalone archive from which spreadsheets of survey results and plans of the burial spaces can be downloaded, according to a Creative Commons CC-BY open access license (Figure 11.2). Each archive is also allocated a Digital Object Identifier, or DOI, a permanent reference that provides a formal means of citation, and ensures long-term findability and accessibility. DOIs are minted by the ADS through a partnership with the British Library, and as part of the international Datacite consortium. The individual cemetery-based archives and the BSRD database and its search interface all sit within the ADS’s preservation environment, guaranteeing their durability, long-term accessibility, and availability for re-use.

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Figure 11.2. Each dataset within the BSRD also has its own archive page and unique DOI, ensuring the data remain findable and accessible. Screen capture by Toby Pillatt, Gareth Beale, Katie Green, Julian D. Richards, and Nicole Smith.

To ensure that these data remain findable for researchers, the DEBS project also developed a new burial spaces module for OASIS (n.d.). OASIS is an online data-capture system through which archaeological and heritage practitioners in the UK, whether professional or amateur, can provide information about their investigations to local Historic Environment Records—HERs—local government information services in England (English Heritage 2002) that record and provide access to resources relating to the archaeology and historic built environment of a defined geographic area, and national heritage bodies such as Historic England.

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The OASIS burial spaces module captures information specific to burial space surveys, such as whether the survey focuses on documenting inscriptions and people interred within burial grounds or the material form of memorials, whether the burial space is a municipal cemetery or church burial ground, and the number of memorials being recorded (Figure 11.3). This information about the survey can then be linked directly to the more specific data regarding individual memorials archived within the BSRD. The HERs and national heritage bodies tend to be the first ports of call for research into the historic environment, so by notifying them of burial space surveys as they are undertaken and archived, they can ensure that interested parties are directed to their results. In addition, OASIS facilitates cross-platform linkages with other systems using an application programming interface. It is hoped that this will make information about surveys available via the Church Heritage Record (Church of England n.d.), the fledgling HER for the Church of England containing information on the architectural history, archaeology, art history, and the surrounding natural environment of church buildings in England, and the National Biodiversity Network Atlas (National Biodiversity Network n.d.), a publicly available atlas of information about UK species and habitats.

Figure 11.3. The OASIS burial spaces module enables better reporting of surveys with subject-specific data capture. Screen capture courtesy of Jo Gilham.

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A properly curated digital archive and database, supported by connections to other services and organizations, now ensures that graveyard survey datasets are FAIR. However, if data are to be processed and stored digitally, then this requires digitization at some point in the surveying workflow. The next section describes how the DEBS project attempted to create new digital tools to make digitization easier, while at the same addressing the problem of data standardization. We start by describing the development of a mobile application, before moving on to discuss the evolution of desktop tools that are now freely available on the DEBS website.

Standardization and Digitization in the Workflow A common approach to digitizing archaeological research is to undertake surveys using pencil and paper in the field, then entering the collected data into computers. Partly, this approach was developed in response to the limitations of the technology in the 1990s and 2000s: it was not practical to have desktop computers on sites or out in the field, and laptops were hampered by their short battery life and durability. However, with the advent of highly sophisticated touchscreen mobile devices, these limitations are no longer as relevant. Indeed, there are good reasons for wanting to undertake digital recording in the field. Ostensibly, it makes for a shorter, more efficient process. The post-survey digitization phase, which is often laborious and can involve the slow and difficult interpretation of incomplete, damaged, or poorly written recording forms, can be dispensed with. Additionally, if all graveyard surveys are undertaken using the same software, then conceivably that software could constrain both the characteristics recorded, and the language used to describe the wide array of features and types. As discussed above, this standardization becomes very important when the data are archived, because it allows data from different sites to be searched and compared easily. For inexperienced surveyors, mobile technology also provides an opportunity for integrating tutorials and walk-throughs within the data-entry process. This could include tooltips and links to detailed explanatory text, or videos and help with the identification of monument types and decorative motifs. In order to facilitate in-field recording and eliminate the need for a separate data entry or digitization stage, the DEBS project designed and built a dedicated mobile application. While it was intended that this application would only ever be a prototype, it was hoped that it could demonstrate that all the benefits outlined above could be achieved using the technology. Initially, the app was modeled upon existing open-source solutions, such as FAIMS (Ballsun-Stanton et al. 2018) and Cemetery

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Surveyor Application (Streb et al., this volume). However, the need for the application to work in tandem with both the new recording system and online database meant that a bespoke system was necessary. Consequently, the finished application was envisaged to: • • • •

Enable in-field recording, including in areas without mobile reception. Support multiple users and devices working concurrently. Retain a degree of flexibility in terms of what groups prefer to record. Walk users through the new recording system and incorporate a “memorial identifier” function. • Store and export data in a way that would allow easy ingest into the new Burial Spaces Research Database, created during the project. The prototype app was created with the support of the University of York’s Digital Creativity Labs, a center for research into games, interactive media, and new information technologies. The app runs on Android mobile devices, and the survey data are stored on a central server, ensuring that multiple devices can be used for a single survey. The application’s surveying functions allow users to set up new sites and surveys, and they can record the basic characteristics of monuments. This is supported by a “memorial identifier” function, which helps users classify each monument according to a detailed typology by walking them through a logic tree of diagnostic characteristics with accompanying photos (Figure 11.4, Top). A significant amount of work went into ensuring that the data stored within the app and on its servers was directly compatible with the BSRD. This was made more difficult by an issue that frustrated both the developers and archivists in the ADS: a separate server was required to administer the app, so data could not be archived directly from the app itself. This was necessary because a computer system designed and built to ensure the availability, security, and integrity of its stored data in perpetuity is not the same as a computer system designed to serve a mobile application in real-time. Having these separate systems, and a means of outputting from one into the other, increases the size of the digital infrastructure needed to operate the app, and its future maintenance costs. However, it does ensure proper separation between data that are not necessarily complete or correct, and data that have been verified and archived. As a prototype, the application produced during the project was not intended for release to the general public. Consequently, it lacks user-management and datavalidation functions, data-entry fields that are fully customized for each variable and characteristic to be recorded, and a completed, high-quality graphic user interface. Evaluation of the mobile application was undertaken during a workshop, attended by representatives of four of the six community groups

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Figure 11.4. Top: The memorial identifier walks users through the process of classifying grave monuments according to an array of diagnostic characteristics. Screen capture by Toby Pillatt, Gareth Beale, Katie Green, Julian D. Richards, and Nicole Smith. Bottom: Participants from community heritage groups test the Qualtrics forms at our evaluation workshop. Screen capture and photograph by Toby Pillatt, Gareth Beale, Katie Green, Julian D. Richards, and Nicole Smith.

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that contributed to the DEBS project (Figure 4, Bottom). Responses were recorded semi-formally using audio recordings of group discussions, and by collecting notes on post-its and flipchart paper. At the workshop, digital literacy was immediately identified as an issue, and this was exacerbated by the prototype nature of the app, which limited its usability. While some people quickly got used to the interface, others struggled. Given the typical demographic profile of most UK community heritage groups, tending toward the older generation, participants questioned whether the app would truly be an aid: “You’re not going to get 12 people that are app savvy.” Others were concerned that the app constrains users too much. For example, when transcribing inscriptions onto paper recording forms, it is possible to mimic the positioning of the words and make annotations to highlight particular characteristics of changes in the typeface. This is not possible within the app; nor is it possible to indicate uncertainty and highlight interpretations that may need checking by more experienced members of the team—something easily achieved by simply scribing a question mark on paper recording forms. Given the limited resources available to develop the app prototype, its scope was necessarily restricted. Ideally, a fully functional app would have an accompanying desktop or web interface. This would enable users to avoid working with the app in the field, if they preferred, and could support a new checking stage, in which a team leader could exercise oversight of the data recorded and later submitted for archiving. With this in mind, although not linked to the app, an online form-based system for desktop data entry was trialed using Qualtrics, a third-party online survey platform. This system comprised two separate forms: the first collected data about the user’s site and survey; the second form collected information about each separate memorial. These two forms then output the collected data to a Google spreadsheet, ordered to ensure easy ingest into the BSRD. Unfortunately, when tested, participants at our evaluation workshop quickly identified numerous flaws. One of the most troublesome was a quirk of Qualtrics forms that prevented users going back through their survey to make changes and correct mistakes. While this could partly be overcome by giving users access to the Google Spreadsheets created from their data, users found the process confusing and unreliable. While other issues could be addressed more easily, for example by increasing the contrast and therefore legibility of the text, or by ensuring that the online forms matched more precisely their paper counterparts, it was decided that the Qualtrics forms were not fit for purpose. Feedback from the community groups was central to a redesign of the data-entry system using the Google Apps platform and standard spreadsheet applications—these now function as key components of the DEBS workflow. Users are able to digitize their survey data by directly working into spreadsheets if they feel comfortable doing so, but there is also a

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form-based method, complete with direct links to the written guidance most relevant to each question. The choice of spreadsheet or form is important: one of the points raised during the evaluation of the Qualtrics forms was that we should not assume that everyone using the recording system will be familiar with how spreadsheets work, and participants were split as to whether they preferred to work with spreadsheets or forms. An advantage of the forms is that they also display well on mobile devices, so if desired, and if signal reception allows it, they can be used in the field, obviating the need for paper-based recording. Whichever method is chosen, users have full control of the data they submit, so they can check their results and correct any errors. One of the most useful features of the data-entry system is the collection of spreadsheet functions that decode the numeric codes used during surveying. These codes were designed to enable faster recording in the field, and help ensure standardization of descriptions across a broad range of possible types—for example, the type code 2210 refers to a ringed cross on a single stepped base. The spreadsheet takes these numeric codes, which can be hard to remember and understand, and turns them back into text (Figure 11.5, Top). When the survey data are taken from the spreadsheets and ingested into the BSRD, someone could use the numeric code to search for specific types, or conduct a general text search for features; all crosses with bases, for example. This direct mapping from

Figure 11.5. Top: The DEBS digitization spreadsheets convert numerical type codes back into text. Bottom: The DEBS workflow. Screen capture and workflow by Toby Pillatt, Gareth Beale, Katie Green, Julian D. Richards, and Nicole Smith.

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the recording forms to the cells in the spreadsheet, and then to the fields in the database, ensures that the work of the digital archivists who administer the database is kept to a minimum. This is essential for keeping costs down; a point we will return to later in the chapter. Although the Google Apps–based data-entry resources are newly launched, early feedback has been good, and over the course of the project it was possible to discern a trend: whereas participants from our community groups were skeptical about replacing pencil and paper recording with digital technology, groups were more open to new tools and systems designed to help with workflow that they are already familiar with; for example, one that involves in-field paper recording, followed by deskbased data entry. For example, the most successful element of the prototype mobile application was the memorial identifier, which helps people navigate the extensive typology and accompanying lists of numeric codes. Likewise, participants thought that having a digital and fully searchable version of the guidance on a mobile phone would be useful while surveying. Conversely, although the app could help eliminate the need for an additional desk-based data-entry step, there were questions raised about how usable it would be for groups in the field, and indeed whether an additional checking step could truly be avoided. Forearmed with these insights, a different project may have looked more keenly at how technology could be used to speed up this existing workflow. Could computer vision techniques be used to automatically digitize paper recording sheets, for example? And could artificial intelligence identify and learn new, meaningful ways of classifying and grouping monuments?

Legacy Data and the Costs of Archiving The workflow described thus far envisages community groups undertaking some preliminary internet-based research on how to survey and record graveyard monuments, locating the DEBS website, undertaking surveys using the resources made available there, and utilizing the standardized recording system that was updated during the DEBS project. After conducting their surveys, groups are expected to digitize their results using the spreadsheets and tools provided on the DEBS website, complete the OASIS form to notify local and national heritage bodies of their work, and archive their results in the BSRD with the help of the ADS (Figure 11.5, Bottom). While this workflow for new surveys is perhaps the most important use-case, there are others. DEBS sought to solve the problem of poor resource and data availability for burial space research, and a problem frequently encountered by groups is that they already have data, either collected as part of local record keeping or from

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previous surveys of their burial grounds, that they simply do not know what to do with. Some enterprising groups make these data available online to local and family history researchers, sometimes for a price. Others create their own digitized spreadsheets and photo archives, but do not then make them widely available. For these groups with so-called legacy datasets—data that do not conform to the DEBS system—engaging with the DEBS workflow can be particularly challenging. The need for standardization across archived datasets demands that surveyors adhere to a very prescriptive set of instructions and responses and conform to a large but nevertheless limited typology of monument types. Groups wishing to archive legacy data that were not collected using this system therefore face somewhat unedifying prospect of digitizing or re-digitizing data that need to be reinterpreted and altered before they can be archived within the BSRD. While there is both video and written guidance to support conversions of legacy data on the DEBS website, there remains a question as to whether community groups will want to invest their time and resources into such projects. This is particularly true considering these tasks do not provide the activities and opportunities that groups most value: the prospect of working outside, the gentle challenge of structured observation and interpretation, the chance to make new friends while working together, and the possibility of making new discoveries. Where groups have monetized their burial ground data by charging family history researchers for access, converting to the DEBS system is doubly unattractive, in that data submitted to the BSRD are made freely accessible in perpetuity. With all this in mind, there is a need for more work on how to motivate and support groups to archive their legacy data. Whether archiving legacy data or data collected in new projects, the costs of digital preservation can be daunting. Accessioning and validating data requires trained and experienced digital archivists, and the digital and physical infrastructure that ensures accessibility in perpetuity has an associated maintenance cost. The business model for the ADS sees these costs recovered from depositors, while making data available to users free of charge. It is a model designed for the commercial archaeology sector in the UK, where developers (usually) in the construction industry are required to pay the costs of excavation, analysis, interpretation, and archiving. It also mirrors the principles of most open access academic publication. Sadly, this model does not work well for community groups that have little or no outside funding, and that undertake projects on a wholly voluntary and largely recreational basis. While there are organizations in the UK that fund community archaeology and heritage projects, graveyard surveys require few resources beyond the costs of archiving, and groups may balk at the prospect of organizing themselves formally

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such that they can bid for and administer grants. With the DEBS tools and resources freely available online comes a danger that groups will undertake high-quality surveys but then fail to archive them, contributing to the problem the DEBS project sought to solve. The potential problems identified here require further research and analysis, and one of the major challenges for a project like DEBS is how to evaluate the implementation of its outputs—the tools and resources produced—once project funding runs out. There are important questions still to be considered: if the DEBS workflow and associated tools were to be launched nationwide, how would they be shared, what would the uptake be among community groups? Would a national training scheme be required to teach would-be surveyors how to use the tools? Could regional ambassadors from existing projects spread the word and provide support for those embarking on a new project? How could groups be supported financially to archive new and legacy datasets in ways that provide value and assurance of good administration to funders, but which are not burdensome to volunteers? And finally, given the idiosyncratic nature of burial spaces in the UK, how far can a centralized recording schema fairly represent all their richness and nuances?

Conclusion At the heart of the DEBS project was the motivation to improve people’s access to information about burial spaces to promote new research on death and commemoration from the late medieval period onwards. Working with existing and new community projects, DEBS designed new workflows, tools, and resources that help make research on burial spaces more findable, accessible, interoperable, and reusable. This effort involved updating a standardized system and its associated guidance for recording graveyard monuments, developing new tools and resources for digitizing datasets and notifying heritage bodies of work undertaken, and creating digital archives for research projects, linked to a new online database for burial space research. The digitization of data is central to this workflow, and the project experimented with prototype mobile applications for making digitization part of the surveying process. But while FAIR digital datasets can be powerful resources for research, our work has demonstrated the importance of spending time with the intended users of the tools to ensure that the outputs are as useful as possible within real life scenarios of implementation. In this regard, DEBS strove to be a co-designed project, to enable individuals invested in their local burial spaces to have a say in how the archive from their endeavors would be shaped. Ultimately, a mobile application was not seen as the best medium

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through which data could be digitized; nor was during the in-field survey seen as the best time to do it. Groups value quality assurance, and there must be moments of reflection and checking built into digitization workflows. While digital archiving and the BSRD are manifestly useful to future researchers, the process of conducting the DEBS project, and its interactions with community groups, have revealed thorny tensions. The rigidity of the system, which combines recording, information storage, and retrieval into a single workflow, is crucial to maintaining standardization and comparability across different surveys and datasets, but it creates difficulties for groups with legacy datasets who then have to weigh the pros and cons of conversion projects. For groups that are yet to undertake their surveys, the whole process can be daunting—anxiety that is compounded by the costs of archiving. So, while DEBS has made an important contribution to studies of historic burial spaces, and the people and monuments contained within them, work remains to be done. Largely, this is about evaluating and encouraging uptake: can the process be simplified and made cheaper, and what other resources, support, and infrastructure are needed to properly launch DEBS nationwide? Technology is evolving all the time, however, and the challenges faced during development of the prototype mobile app, and its rejection by the groups that tested it, have hinted at a different kind of DEBS project; one that looks more keenly at how technology (e.g., artificial intelligence and computer vision) might be used to record and classify monuments, either building on or completely changing the existing system. If that project is to materialize, then it is important not to forget the lessons learned here, and we should ask ourselves: where can new technologies, digitized workflows, and FAIR data make the greatest contribution to research, and crucially, how can they be funded, supported, and maintained over the long term? As we have shown, to address the hugely important problem of how to archive and enable access to research data, it is vital to have a broad and detailed understanding of the groups and stakeholders involved at all stages of the research process, and the ways in which they work.

Acknowledgments The Discovering England’s Burial Spaces project was funded by Historic England, and we are grateful to Keith May, Sarah Reilly, and Linda Monckton for their advice and support throughout. Additional support was provided by the Engineering and Physical Sciences Research Council via the Digital Creativity Labs. We would also like to thank the representatives of our partner organizations Caring for God’s Acre, the Al-

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liance of Local Government Archaeological Officers, Churchcare, and the Churches Conservation Trust: Harriet Carty, Andrea Gilpin, George Sharp, Sue Briggs, Sally Croft, Nick Boldrini, James Miles, Joe Elders, and Gill Bull. We are particularly grateful to all the community participants, especially those that attended our workshops and helped organize events: Andrew Carter, Colin Maplethorpe, Laurie, Rose Ferraby, Stephen Campbell, Ros Batchelor, Kate Giles, Margaret Mackinder, Martin Brooks, Ian Philp, Jean Robinson, Peter Gallagher, Sue Stearn, Tony Stearn, Jennifer Stearn, Jane Lunnon, and Alan Williams. We could never have finished the project without you.

Toby Pillatt was a research associate in the Department of Archaeology and Digital Creativity Labs at the University of York. He works at the interstices of archaeology, design, and heritage. Toby’s background is in landscape archaeology. Previous research includes the landscape history of trees and woodlands, archaeologies of weather, the past and future of bees and beekeeping, and the transformative potential of researching community heritage. https://orcid.org/0000-0003-4219-2082. Gareth Beale is a lecturer in Digital Archaeology at the University of Glasgow investigating the critical and creative use of technology for the documentation and representation of archaeology. This work takes place at the intersection of the digital industries and archaeology, and is motivated primarily by the desire to make technological innovation relevant and meaningful in a contemporary archaeological context. Gareth is codirector of the DiNAR project; an interdisciplinary collaboration to develop new forms of immersive experience for the heritage sector. https:// orcid.org/0000–0002–3570–8207. Katie Green is Collections Development Manager for the Archaeology Data Service at the University of York, working closely with researchers depositing complex datasets for long-term preservation. Katie is interested in data re-use and the new opportunities digital technologies provide us to interpret and model the past. Katie’s background is in Byzantine and Landscape Archaeology, applying archaeological theory and methodological approaches to analyze space as an expression of social identity, and to understand the interplay between Byzantine rural society and eastern Mediterranean landscapes. https://orcid.org/0000–0003–2366–2587. Julian D. Richards is Professor of Archaeology at the University of York, where he is director of the Centre for Digital Heritage, and founding

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director of the Archaeology Data Service and the e-journal Internet Archaeology (both established in 1996). He is currently deputy coordinator for the European ARIADNE e-infrastructure for archaeology. In his archaeological research, Julian specializes in Anglo-Saxon and Viking Age England, especially mortuary behavior and settlement evolution. https:// orcid.org/0000–0003–3938–899X. Nicole Smith is a lecturer in Information Studies at the University of Glasgow, where she co-convenes the MSc in Information Management and Preservation. Nicole has a background working in access to archaeology in the cultural heritage sector, as an archaeology curator, and as a specialist in digital technology implementation for museums and heritage. Nicole is an archaeologist with several years’ experience in field archaeology and has a research interest in the relationship between archaeological research and public consumption of the past. https://orcid .org/0000–0002–7756–5347.

References ADS (Archaeology Data Service). N.d. Retrieved 20 November 2021 https://archae ologydataservice.ac.uk. Ballsun-Stanton, B., S. A. Ross, A. Sobotkova, and P. Crook. 2018. “FAIMS Mobile: Flexible, Open-Source Software for Field Research.” SoftwareX 7: 47–52. Church of England. N.d. “Church Heritage Record.” Retrieved 1 March 2023 from https://facultyonline.churchofengland.org/churches. DEBS (Discovering England’s Burial Spaces). 2020. Retrieved 20 November 2021 from http://debs.ac.uk. CoreTrustSeal. N.d. “Data Repository Core Level Certification.” Retrieved 1 March 2023 from https://www.coretrustseal.org. English Heritage. 2002. “Historic Environment Records: Benchmarks for Good Practice.” English Heritage and the Association of Local Government Archaeological Officers, v.1.1. Retrieved 5 July 2022 from https://www.heritagegateway .org.uk/gateway/file/hg/content/upload/her_file_store/4921.pdf. Forde, H. 2002. “Preservation Past and Future.” Journal of the Society of Archivists 23(2): 165–170. Gilliland, A. J. 2011. “Reflections on the Value of Metadata Archaeology for Recordkeeping in a Global, Digital World.” Journal of the Society of Archivists 32(1): 103–118. Ministry of Justice. 2007. Burial Grounds: The Results of a Survey of Burial Grounds in England and Wales. UK Government: Ministry of Justice. Retrieved 20 November 2021 from https://assets.publishing.service.gov.uk/government/uploads/ system/uploads/attachment_data/file/217909/burial_grounds_web_pg1–14 .pdf. Mytum, H. 2019. “Recording and Analysing Burial Grounds Advice Documentation, Sections Carrying out a Project, Recording, Identifying Monument Types,

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Photography and Additional Recording, Making a Plan.” Retrieved 20 July 2021 from http://www.debs.ac.uk/. Mytum, H., J. Cameron, and K. Chapman. 2015. “Developing Local Assessment Toolkits: A Scoping Study to Look at Developing a Standard Model for Recording Cemeteries and Burial Grounds.” National Heritage Protection Plan: NHPP 4D2 Cemeteries and Churchyards, EH 6358. National Biodiversity Network. N.d. “National Biodiversity Network Atlas.” Retrieved 1 March 2023 from https://nbnatlas.org/. OASIS. n.d. OASIS online reporting form. Retrieved 20 November 2021 https:// oasis.ac.uk/. Pillatt, T., G. Beale, K. Green, D. Maxwell, H. Mytum, K. Niven, J. Richards, and N. Smith. 2020. “Data Paper: The Burial Spaces Research Database.” Internet Archaeology 55. DOI: https://doi.org/10.11141/ia.55.3. Pillatt, T., K. Green, D. Maxwell, H. Mytum, and J. Richards. 2021. “Discovering England’s Burial Spaces: Supporting Community Heritage.” Journal of Community Archaeology and Heritage 9(2): 88–102. DOI: https://doi.org/10.1080/ 20518196.2021.1894786. Wilkinson, M. D., M. Dumontier, I. J. Aalbersberg, G. Appleton, M. Axton, A. Baak, N. Blomberg et al. 2016. “The FAIR Guiding Principles for scientific data management and stewardship.” Scientific Data 3(1): 160018 (2016) DOI: https:// doi.org/10.1038/sdata.2016.18.

CHAPTER 12

The Cemetery Surveyor Application Non-Paper Data-Collection Methods in Luxembourg Burial Grounds Christoph K. Streb, Cyrille Médard de Chardon, and Thomas Kolnberger

Introduction Cemetery-surveying tools form the core output of the project “Material Culture and Spaces of Remembrance—A Study of Cemeteries in Luxembourg in the Context of the Greater Region,” conducted at the University of Luxembourg (Transmortality n.d.) and funded by the Fonds National de la Recherche. The project examined the historical evolution of mortuary culture from the early nineteenth century to the present, with consideration of the future usage of cemetery areas in Luxembourg. The study focused on the spatiality and materiality of remembering the dead, the changing layout of graveyards and emergence of alternative sites, new designs of tombstones and tomb slabs, and changes and continuities in the practices of burial and grave tending. The development of the cemetery-surveying tools built upon the experience of gathering a detailed, almost exhaustive, micro-scale data set during a 2009/2010 field survey of retail locations in Phnom Penh, Cambodia (Kolnberger 2012). The data set, which contains over fourteen thousand retail sites associated with over one hundred commercial categories, was gathered through the systematic survey of inner-city retail shops using a GPS synchronized with a digital camera. Through a lengthy process, shops were then categorized using post-visit analyses of the georeferenced pictures, and then mapped for spatial analysis. This “rapid survey” technique was surprisingly efficient. Within three months (of six-day weeks), a single researcher walked 997 km (roughly 10 km per day) and documented 728 km of Phnom Penh’s commercial streetscapes.

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Applying a similar process to graves, a consideration of new technologies, differences in surveying scale, and increasing methodological efficiency led to the development of the cemetery-surveying tools discussed here. This chapter describes challenges particular to the European cemetery context, and how these challenges yielded the development process for the tools and their methodological framework. We detail the development processes of the Android and web-based cemetery-surveying tools before outlining their strengths and weaknesses.

Survey Challenges In comparison to cemeteries on the European mainland, many graves of Anglo-American burial sites (around the globe) display a much more limited materiality than recent and contemporary memorials in sites such as those considered here (though see Mytum 2019, and this volume Chapter 6, for the complexity of options within Anglo-American monument design). What has most changed, due to taste or administrative-technical rationale, within the Luxembourg plots is the horizontal portion: the slabs, or open but planted enclosures, which are usually highly decorated surfaces. Therefore, our survey of cemeteries in the Grand Duchy of Luxembourg, and neighboring France and Germany, revealed large differences in attribute choices, which supported individualization and personalization. Before the development of the cemetery-survey tools, all data sampling for the project was collected manually. First, before visiting the cemetery, as much information as possible was collected regarding the site. Cemetery administrations were contacted to provide a map or plan of cemetery. This was crucial to organizing data collection in advance, especially regarding efficiently sampling overall sites. Our first case study, in Walferdange, Luxembourg, contained 739 grave plots in 2015. It was divided for survey into sections to organize data collection based on the cemetery’s layout. Within each section, graves were systematically numbered. Upon arrival on site, the approach was reviewed and adjusted where necessary. As the research team was exploring the feasibility of using previous methods of surveying, digital photography and tape-measurement of grave and grave markers were completed by hand. Each grave was photographed from the same angles, with the photographs making all details visible, including engravings, inscriptions, and any paraphernalia attached to, or on, the grave or grave plot. Grave flowers and other vegetation, which can carry important significance (Goody and Poppi 1994), were also documented. This process necessitated a more or less standardized method of photographing the grave sites, usually moving toward the grave from the left, beginning with a total view and then zooming in on

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the details before concluding with another total view from the right. The approach of shifting the focus from the more obvious and general features of each grave site toward the details was also adopted in the manual data entry into an Excel sheet. The photographs were collected and organized into folders, with each folder named after the unique ID given for each grave, indicating the cemetery, the section, and the grave. In this process, the researchers took 3,519 photographs (12.6 gigabytes). All photographs for each single grave were reviewed and studied in the office and all details were noted, irrespective of whether they were perceived as important and relevant or not. At this point, the researchers sought guidance from the literature (Kmec et al. 2019; Schmitt et al. 2018) to ensure that they included information that is usually collected at other sites, such as dimensions, material, and color. However, these descriptions were kept brief and coded with a signifier of a particular material characteristic. For example, grave plots that were not covered by any kind of slab stone were identified as “2a-Open,” the number and the letter simply standing for the order in which this kind of terminology was conceived. All inscriptions and engravings were written out completely and were, with shapes and materiality, entered into a spreadsheet, organized by individual graves and sections. The objective of the trial was to note anything of interest regarding kinds of material features, regardless of their importance in previous studies, in order to avoid any predefined categorization and limits to what could be observed. This process was extended to all materiality at the horizontal grave level, for example, any decorative elements, such as crosses, crucifixes, holy water fonts, vegetation as well as any personalized objects. In certain cases, the conditions of artifacts were noted, such as material, color, or perishability. The resulting spreadsheet had 739 rows, one for each grave, and 113 columns of attributes in addition to the unique grave identifier. In brief, the attributes recorded described horizontal grave surfaces, material, and color, whether graves were open or closed with a slab stone, the presence of single or multiple stones, cross shapes and types, curb stones, grave monuments, vegetation types (e.g., perishable, abundance), stonemason names, holy water basins, and other religious or non-religious symbols and objects, such as angels, cherubs, candles, or eternal lights. Regarding inscriptions, both the oldest and most recent dates of death were recorded, the exact inscriptions, family names, and, if provided, maiden names (Streb et al., 2019). The main purpose of this exploratory data collection and screening was to identify possible patterns or emerging typologies. Consequently, all data were deliberately entered with no predetermined structure and in an open-coding form (Glaser 2000; Mey and Mruck 2011).

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Without the use of pre-existing categorization, an iterative process of coding graves was repeatedly interrupted with the addition of new feature types. This required double-checking the already-entered graves to see if any should now be recoded. Because this process had an almost hermeneutical quality, it was necessary to clean and harmonize the alreadyentered data in terms of terminology. Because a team of two researchers collaboratively collected the data at the pilot cemetery, inter-researcher reliability was ensured. The information deduced from this data as well as the categories that emerged became key input for the development of the digital survey platforms.

Development Methodology The Walferdange cemetery test revealed that data collection of grave monument populations for larger cemeteries necessitated more efficient methods than those used for this trial and previously applied in Phnom Penh (Cambodia) and in the subsequent coding and compilation of spreadsheets. Second, to compare several cemeteries and conduct statistical and spatial analysis required data consistency. This led to the decision to develop a tablet-based application, allowing the association of pictures, features, and survey responses to individual graves tied to an external georeferenced framework. Software development is often defined as constrained by time, money, and the resulting features and quality of the product. Development is also bound by the technical ability of the users. In this case, the development of the Android application was bound by the ability of the researchers to configure the application and the budget to provide additional functionality. It was agreed that the application would be embedded in a larger surveying framework of creating a survey ontology, defining a hierarchical series of surveys consisting of categories and attributes (used by the application to flexibly build the surveys), the existence of a cemetery plan (ideally in a GIS), providing section and grave identifiers, the actual surveying of the cemetery with the application, and, finally, the exporting of the data for various analyses. The application underwent iterations within each stage of a five-step “waterfall” process: defining specifications/requirements, designing interaction layouts, clarifying standards of input and output, development/ implementation, and, finally, debugging, adding features and maintenance. While two of the authors (Kolnberger and Streb) involved in the Material Culture and Spaces of Remembrance project were defining the use case (hereafter defined as the researchers), the third author (Médard

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de Chardon), who was not involved in the survey trial, led the development process (the developer).

Requirements The researchers, wishing to facilitate data collection and improve efficiency by, for example, having data structured and eliminating data-entry errors (as when using spreadsheets), used a tablet with touch-based interaction templates. Examples from existing commercial tools were combined with descriptions of desired tasks to complete in the field, and, at the request of the developer, walk-throughs of the imagined application. The developer integrated the application requirements within the surveying workflow and described four main requirements to facilitate surveying on a tablet. The first involved the process of importing survey question categories and attributes at the scale of the cemetery, section, and grave, into the application. This allowed customization of attribute types in the field. Second, additional cemetery, section, and grave objects were to be formulated in the field, allowing flexibility. This nested hierarchy was also meant to simplify the browsing and selection of individual graves among hundreds within a cemetery as well as allowing survey questions regarding cemeteries and sections, rather than just individual graves. Third, the surveying process of individual graves should be straightforward. The fourth requirement was that the application operate independent of internet access—due to cemeteries’ frequent location in areas with poor cellular reception—making exporting data, into a GIS or spreadsheet, manual. Overall, the application specifications aimed to define nomenclature, minimize data errors, enhance data-entry speed, and provide rich picture sets associated with graves and feature types. The application nomenclature, for example, defined survey questions as categories, and responses as attributes. Finally, it was decided that the application would run on the Android platform, rather than iOS, due to the availability of such devices to the researchers. The application was designed for a tablet with a screen size of 10–13 inches running Android versions 4.4 (2013) or later. The requirements process proceeded through three cycles of specification definitions, as did the following step of design.

Design The developer integrated Android design principles and functionality to create seventeen layout renderings, and another copy with annotations explaining interactions possible (Figure 12.1). The purpose, beyond

Figure 12.1. List of requested actions for the grave level recording. Screen captures by Christoph K. Streb, Cyrille Médard de Chardon, and Thomas Kolnberger.

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layout, was for the paper interface mock-up to be tested in the field to see whether additional features were missing or needed modification. This process led to two iterations of feedback that were addressed with new designs. Some examples of feedback were the absence of an explicit “save” functionality, the need for the selection of multiple attributes, adding stronger markers between hierarchical levels to not get disoriented, allowing text input, allowing icon/image buttons, and being able to delete items or clear survey items. In addition to the layouts, the desired functionalities were precisely described at all hierarchical levels (i.e., cemetery, section, and grave). For example, the requested actions for the grave level were the abilities to: • • • • • • •

Record grave-level category attributes. Switch between tabs of categories. Take pictures associated with a grave, category, or attribute. See pictures taken of this grave (linked to grave, category, or attribute). Bookmark this grave. Save, check, and close grave entry. Clear all selected and default attributes for this grave.

Standards Designing a static application that would allow a specific survey to be embedded in the application would have been less costly and faster to develop but would have also limited flexibility in terms of survey modifications and the usefulness of the application to others. The application, however, was designed to be flexible and integrated into a survey process. Importantly, this meant that defining hierarchical survey questions became the cornerstone of the application, in a structured human readable (JSON) text file. This feature is a technical barrier to usage, but an incredibly flexible method of robustly customizing application functionality independent of programming. During this stage, the data was created with the file extension .csa (CSA), which was also standardized according to agreed-upon formatting. JavaScript Object Notation (JSON) is “a lightweight data-interchange format . . . easy for humans to read and write . . . [and] easy for machines to parse and generate . . . based on a subset of the JavaScript Programming Language” (JSON n.d..). Using JSON, the survey structure is created using nested lists of text, starting with the root element: { “_type”: “root”,

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“cemetery”: [], “section”: [], “grave”: [] }

Nested objects, containing tabs, groups of questions, various types of questions, attribute types, ability to take pictures, and completion requirement, could be described. Seven question category types were definable through this method: • Set: Multiple textual items from which none, one, multiple, or all may be selected. • Set thumbnail: Same as the set but with images rather than textual descriptions. • Radio: Only one can be selected from textual item list. • Radio thumbnail: Same as the radio but with images rather than textual descriptions. • Binary: Same as radio but only two choices are available. • Measurement: A number is entered. Context determines the unit. • Text: Any text can be entered. The intention, beyond use of the tool for this project, was to also make the application publicly available to the larger academic community for further enhancement and research, therefore requiring a certain flexibility. Throughout iterations that clarified details, the contrasting ideas of the surveying context, usability practices, and technical possibilities and constraints led to a clearer idea of what was expected from CSA by both parties. The CSA development process also enabled the researchers to develop a basis and quasi-standard for data analysis whereby it became the blueprint for other cemeteries. The developed typology is available on the Survey Tool part of the project website (Transmortality nd.) and GitHub page (GitHub 2020). It is meant to provide an example or starting point, not a rigid framework, for data collection. Altering or extending JSON typology allows data entry of diverse types.

Development and Testing The development of the application began once all the requirements, designs, and standards were agreed upon. Coding development started in early 2016 and took four weeks. During the coding process, additional issues arose and some of the requirements, designs, and standards were

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updated. Android applications can be developed using a variety of programming languages. This application was developed using Java and the Android Studio integrated development environment. While there were some bugs, new feature requests, and changes to navigation between the screens in the weeks following first completion, many problems were linked to the researchers struggling with the initial CSA configuration. These, and problems related to usability in the field, ultimately led to the request that a web-based version of the tool be developed for use on a desktop computer.

Web Cemetery Surveyor Six months after completion of CSA, the researchers’ evaluation was that the use of the data collection tool in this form was inadequate for extensive field work and requested that a desktop-based version of the application be developed (WCS). The new workflow solely used a digital camera, combined with photographs of the printed and incrementally annotated site plan, indicating the division and association of additional pictures to cemeteries, sections, and individual graves. Coding of elements was now to be entirely carried out on a desktop computer, not in the field. The overall WCS development process had a roughly similar duration to that of the full CSA process. As most of the researcher requirements remained unchanged, and with only a few added functionalities, its requirements, designs, and standards development processes were minimal. The main added features were: in-application survey customization (no longer requires JSON file manual modification), an ability to create and view dependency-based questions (e.g., selecting a response will display or hide follow-up questions), new tools for associating images to features, the ability to manage multiple projects with different surveys, and a facility for multiple concurrent users. The testing and debugging phase of the desktop applications was more protracted than with CSA. While bugs were found over a few months of use, there were some problems associating pictures with features. This was hard to resolve, as viewing and sorting large numbers of pictures for allocation into specific graves, categories, or attributes is a time-intensive process. With the Android CSA application, development survey flexibility came at the cost of added complexity of customizing a JSON file. While that application utilized a (hidden) relational database to store and organize data, a discussion between the researchers and the developer on a less technical approach resulted in WCS being a locally run program running on a web-platform with a text-based filesystem in the background. This

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was the compromise between the researchers worrying that data storage in a database would be inaccessible and complex to install, and the developer suggesting a locally run web server would be flexible, if researchers wished to survey concurrently and collaboratively in the future. This, like many decisions during development, was a compromise between flexibility and technical complexity for the user.

Results Two cemetery-survey applications were created in the context of this project. An Android-based application that operated locally on the device was meant for use in the field on a tablet, but was feasible for smaller tasks on a smart phone, to survey graves and directly link (and tag) photographs to them. The second web-based application provided a similar experience but required digitizing of field notes and manually associating pictures to graves, with the added benefit of collaboration, fewer technical requirements for customization, controlled work environment, and other benefits. This section describes in more detail the resulting applications and their limitations.

Cemetery Surveyor Application The resulting application can be broken down into four activities: the home, cemetery, section, and grave screens. The home activity presents the user with the options to see the list of cemeteries and bookmarks, and to create a new cemetery listing as well as some configuration options (Figure 12.2, left), allowing the addition of attributes, reloading the JSON template, exporting the data, and jumping to the GitHub documentation and help website. Within the cemetery and section activities, subfeatures can be selected (e.g., sections, graves), and then surveys for that feature can be completed, associated pictures can be browsed, pictures can be taken, a bookmark can be placed, and the feature and all its contents can be deleted. The grave activity provides space to complete the survey and tabs to simplify data entry. In addition to the features present for the other activities, there is the ability to clear all data for a grave. As there are many questions to complete at the grave level, a completion checking feature is present, indicating, when leaving the grave activity, whether some information is missing. Incomplete grave surveys are also visible in the listing of graves using color codes (Figure 12.2, right).

Figure 12.2. CSA cemetery (left), section (center), and grave list (right) selection screenshots on a smart phone. Note the color association between the “add feature” buttons coding and their respective view. The shaded (red) blocks in the grave items list indicates an incomplete survey of items within. Screen captures by Christoph K. Streb, Cyrille Médard de Chardon, and Thomas Kolnberger.

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As navigating the hierarchical lists of cemeteries, their sections, and the graves they contain (Figure 12.2) was disorienting, the activities were color coded to reinforce location. At each feature level, survey questions (categories) are present, based on the defined JSON survey template, allowing entry of text, numbers, selection of one or multiple attributes, and taking of pictures associated with any of the feature types (e.g., cemetery, a category, such as a gravestone, or a specific attribute, such as the color of material). Figure 12.3 depicts three screenshots, using a smart phone (to minimize white space), showing some of the survey questions used for this research project at the three hierarchies. Overall, most elements provide a button interaction, minimizing common textual data-entry errors, which is still possible if needed. Buttons provide selection functionality, but also other abilities by holding down a button, allowing deselecting features, editing features (e.g., cemetery, section, and grave renaming), deleting bookmarks, and seeing attribute icons full screen. A power feature of CSA is the precise linking of photographs to features of varying precision. Pictures can be associated with an overall cemetery or a specific stone type (within a defined cemetery, section, grave, and category). Camera icons are built into the three main hierarchies, but through the template customization are also available next to individual questions or attributes (Figure 12.3). Another key element of CSA is the ability to use customizable images as thumbnail icons (Figure 12.3, right), facilitating the conceptualization and coding of an observed artifact. If a feature could not be suitably categorized, an “Other” option allowed earmarking and, by taking a linked picture, adding a new feature type/image to the survey template, thus extending the typology, allowing item updating when no longer in the field. This design element of the CSA again underlines the emergent, exploratory, and hermeneutical character of the overall process, all of which the tool supports. The tool’s flexibility in survey design highlights an important issue: CSA is, by design, not a standard grave marker data-collection application, but, as a result, neither is it “ready” to be used and applied. It requires the user to define the survey template using a JSON text file and to give substantial preliminary input. Most importantly, the user must already have a good understanding of what is being researched, how such data are approached, and what information is eventually required for what kind of analysis. The CSA is a tool requiring deliberate application and creative appropriation by the user, and does not predetermine what can be done with it or which data can be selected and how; nor is it limited to the subject of grave markers. It is key for the reader to understand that the CSA is a weakly structured and customizable frame-

Figure 12.3. CSA cemetery, section, and grave survey screenshots on a smart phone. Screen captures by Christoph K. Streb, Cyrille Médard de Chardon, and Thomas Kolnberger.

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work adjusted to data collection applications of any kind. Any related data-collection methodology and procedures as well as the underlying theoretical background are independent of the CSA. Additionally, the tool provides no analysis, only hierarchically structured data and associated photographs. Overall, the CSA provides a minimalist but smooth and efficient means of collecting consistent and accurate data in the field. As the fieldwork can also develop new codes, the app allows minor altering of typologies in the field, if needed. A laptop is required for more elaborate survey template modification as well as an internet or cable connection to transmit the file to the tablet or smart phone. Collaboration is not supported. Each user builds an independent data set stored on their device. However, by using the same survey template and agreed naming of common features (such as the cemetery and sections), it is possible to pool the exported data from multiple devices to be perfectly merged. Again, this would require a detail-oriented approach by a technical coordinator. Using CSA, it is possible to collect the complete grave marker population of a European graveyard as well as all the material and linguistic features of the monuments. Once the data have been collected, they can be exported, creating one folder containing all the pictures and another date-stamped folder with multiple paired CSV text files for the different hierarchical elements. As elements such as a grave will have association types of both one-to-one (e.g., grave dimensions, presence of gravestone) and one-to-many (e.g., types of decorations, gravestone materials), these data types are stored in separate files. Exported CSA text files are importable into data analysis software (e.g., Excel, SPSS, R, GIS). By associating survey plans, preferably made in a GIS before going in the field, graves (or sections and cemeteries) and all their collected attributes as well as pictures can be linked to their spatial counterpart using a GIS, such as ArcGIS or QGIS. This resulting data set allows the exploration of spatio-temporal patterns (Streb et al. 2019; Streb 2020). Data aggregation from other cemeteries using similar survey templates, especially across borders and cultures, allows for interesting possibilities of comparative research (Graas 2017; Streb 2020). The Android application was developed in the winter of 2015/2016 and has since been freely available on the Google Play Store (search “Cemetery Surveyor”). The source code is freely available on GitHub (2020), allowing the application to be modified, updated, altered, and potentially republished as a different app. Documentation for configuration and usage is also described on GitHub and the Google Play Store.

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CSA Limitations and External Testing Installation and configuration processes are outlined in detail on the GitHub page, and linked to on the Google Play Store (PS) App page, where a number of steps are described to enable CSA ready for surveying. While installing the app from the PS itself is simple, translating the prepared survey questions into JSON format is non-trivial. Additionally, dealing with the JSON file during the refinement of the questions, such as adding or removing categories or attributes as well as uploading the file to the device folder with a standardized name, frustrated the researchers. Second, and technically, uploading this file and potentially any thumbnail images to the correct folder on the device can be technically challenging. Finally, CSA is not flexible; only one survey template is possible at a time. To apply an alternate survey template requires exporting existing data, deleting all existing cemeteries and their contained data, and installing a new JSON template. As only one survey structure was used for this project, this was not an issue, but is likely to be, particularly for users who may already struggle with the technical aspects of this process. Once CSA was correctly configured, additional limitations to its usage appeared. Data collection for the project using a smart phone or tablet was eventually rejected for practical reasons. Entering the required amount of data directly on site at the cemetery exposed the researcher to adverse weather conditions (e.g., rain, heat) and suffered from practical complications (e.g., sun glare on the device’s screen, limited battery life). In Autumn 2016, the University of York (UK) Discovering England’s Burial Spaces (DEBS) project team organized a formal study of the applicability of CSA for volunteer hobbyist for heritage, amateur historians and archaeologists, and management of the space, working with the vicar (DEBS n.d.). Over the course of three sessions, over twenty participants, consisting of a mixture of older and younger volunteers, surveyed a churchyard in North Yorkshire. A human-computer-interaction approach was used to evaluate CSA through three one-day sessions: the first explored existing graveyard-surveying patterns and needs using printed CSA layouts (similar to Figure 12.1, left); on the second, during a very cold day, CSA was used on tablets in the field; and on the third, among hybrid surveying approaches, the DEBS team and participants discussed how such tools could help in applying for surveying grants. Field testing was separately and additionally carried out by students studying user experience design in the department of film, television, and interactive media. The following findings were described by Dr. Nicole Smith, who facilitated the CSA trials, during a virtual interview in October 2020. Gener-

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ally, it was affirmed that CSA is effective in the context for which it was designed, by experts within the scope of larger projects. The documentation was very helpful for the DEBS team in configuring the JSON survey and app. Within hobbyist participants, the hierarchy CSA provides matched well with their existing surveying methodology and structured data needs. Participants found the use of tablets, rather than pencil and paper, motivating. Additionally, the CSA survey structure forced more thorough observation of grave features, leading to the appreciation of differences and complexity between what had appeared to be similar and mundane. Similarly, CSA forced generating of unique identifiers for graves, which assisted in cataloging. Finally, the app was appreciated for working in areas of with mobile reception and providing flexibility in terms of what users wished to record. In contrast, participants described multiple barriers to CSA use. Working with a tablet in cold weather was an important limitation to its use. A pencil and paper (with gloves) was found to be more practical in cold weather. A structural mismatch was another factor, as surveying was completed according to individual’s skills and preferences, meaning that they gathered different data sets asynchronously (e.g., two people went around just measuring grave dimensions). According to the trial facilitators, participants “needed a flexible collaborative environment where they could share small bits of the activity . . . in amongst drinking tea and gossiping . . . They often did not want to know what happens before and after their piece of experience.” Within this surveying structure, a collaborative platform with pooled data between devices would have been appreciated. The DEBS team provided tablets for surveying, but individuals interested in installing CSA on their own devices were constrained due to the Android platform, as iPhones users were dominant. Configuration of the JSON template, importing and exporting data from devices was seen as a barrier in promoting CSA use to other similar groups. The users desired a less technical approach to creating and modifying the JSON template. Analyzing the results was beyond the scope of the workshops, but members wanted the ability to integrate CSA outputs with other standard databases and reporting practices, including Historic England, ADS, and OASIS. The student group also identified loading JSON and exporting results as two main barriers that needed easing for CSA use by more casual users. Other highlights from the evaluation study are that using paper in the field and inputting data into CSA with a tablet in a warm, social, and more inclusive atmosphere, was appreciated, as also seen in the DEBS trials. Some participants were not physically able to survey in the field but could amalgamate data and perform cross-referencing and quality control in a comfortable setting (i.e., sofa). Additionally, while using a mobile/

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tablet device is a normal part of expert practices, for those unused to the technology, the device itself may become the center of focus rather than a tool for the intended topic of study. Linking collected data to a GIS for spatial analysis was not performed; nor was the use of picture associations to graves used. Following further evaluation, the DEBS project created a separate recording system so that it was compatible with the intended archiving system. The DEBS system was also trialed with some of the same groups as Cemetery Surveyor, and the preference for paper recording followed by subsequent data entry remained a key response (Pillatt et al. 2020, this volume chapter 11).

Web Cemetery Surveyor Due to CSA limitations, in 2017, a desktop version of the data-collection tool (WCS) was developed, allowing researchers to enter data from photographs and field notes, sheltered from weather conditions, while having additional features available. The WCS, developed using PHP, HTML, JS, and CSS, could be installed on personal computers (by installing server software, such as Apache) or a web server. Self-installation on a personal computer also required some (frustrating) technical configuration, similar to that for the Android application. An advantage of WCS is that it allows the creation of different projects (Figure 12.4, top-left) with individually customized survey questions (Figure 12.5, top-left). The new survey creation and editing tool provides a much easier functionality than the previous JSON file formatting, and it also clearly displays the survey structure in a collapsible form and enables question dependencies. Additionally, now all levels of item lists indicate the completion status for the survey, displaying warning triangles adjacent to the name of incomplete entries (Figure 12.4). The interaction functionality of the lists and surveys mimics that of the tablet designs, as buttons respond to a click and automatically save any attribute selections or other data (Figure 12.5). No explicit saving is necessary. Finally, responsive layout designs allow adjustment of the content to device screen size, potentially allowing use on a tablet or smart phone with internet access. The WCS version, unlike the Android application, however, cannot use an embedded camera. Users must upload pictures, using FTP if the program is located on a remote server, to a specific folder, where it will be browsable from within the app. While somewhat cumbersome, individual pictures can be either placed directly in the folder hierarchy associated with the feature (cemetery, section, or grave), or into an unsorted pho-

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Figure 12.4. WCS desktop browser screenshots of project (top-left), cemetery (topright), section (bottom-left), and grave (bottom-right) lists. Screen captures by Christoph K. Streb, Cyrille Médard de Chardon, and Thomas Kolnberger.

tographs folder. When viewing any of the survey “levels,” clicking on the camera icon overlays a window showing pictures belonging to the feature (Figure 12.6, top right). Clicking the folder icon in the bottom corner opens a second overlay (Figure 12.6, left), showing the unsorted pictures. Clicking on photographs toggles their location between the feature and the unsorted pile. Pictures are associated with a feature by dragging them onto valid fields that become red when dragging commences (Figure 12.6, top right). This allows the association of the picture to question categories and individual attributes. The photos linked to features can be seen by clicking the photograph icon (Figure 12.6, bottom-right), showing their associated codings. Finally, by being online, multiple concurrent users are possible, potentially accelerating field data coding. From 2017 to 2020, WCS was deployed online for collaborative submission of surveyed graves for this project and provided a demonstration space for the tool. This application,

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Figure 12.5. WCS desktop browser screenshots of survey customization interface (topleft) and cemetery, grave, and section surveys (clockwise). Screen capture by Christoph K. Streb, Cyrille Médard de Chardon, and Thomas Kolnberger.

like the Android application, is also freely available to install and modify. The source code is available on GitHub (2020).

WCS Limitations While WCS provides many additional features to CSA, there are a few limitations. The method of linking photographs to features, categories, and attributes is somewhat awkward and cumbersome. This can be partly alleviated by directly placing photos in the appropriate feature hierarchy locations rather than the unsorted photographs folder, but this requires some fluency with FTP and file structures. For potential volunteers helping in a cemetery coding activity, this may be a disincentive to participate. Even for researchers, this method may be constraining with large numbers of photographs. In this regard, the Android App may be far superior, a worthwhile consideration depending on the aim of the data set.

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Figure 12.6. WCS desktop browser screenshots of importing photographs (left), associating a photo with a specific category (top right, dashed lines on screen), and displaying associated photos (bottom-right). Screen captures by Christoph K. Streb, Cyrille Médard de Chardon, and Thomas Kolnberger.

The collaborative and online functionality is primitive. Users can potentially overwrite a collaborator’s work, and will be unable to undo changes. No user authentication or management system is present. All users and their changes are untracked, making application protection within a password protected area necessary. Deletion of entities, except for graves, was disabled to prevent accidents. Depending on WCA setup, locally or remotely, a Secure File Transfer Protocol (SFTP) client may be required, which presents an additional technical hurdle. Furthermore, WCA installation and configuration is significantly more complex than the Android App, requiring someone with greater technical skill. Currently, debugging and configuration are rather opaque, as the developer was familiar with the internal workings and, due to time constraints, did not fully develop a forgiving or resilient system. These issues should be addressed in future versions of the application.

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Discussion The resulting cemetery-surveying applications are, in their current state, the result of the pilot project at Walferdange, Luxembourg, cemetery. The intention was to use the data collected to identify a specific typology of material culture. Based on an in-depth literature study, it became apparent that there is a large number of typologies available in the general field of grave marker studies and historical archaeology. These typologies have usually been developed based on the available material culture within a clearly defined region. Understandably, such typologies are flawed when applied in other regions. While typologies present in Mallios and Caterino (2011), Mytum (2009), or Tarlow (1999) are effective in the United Kingdom or North America, the distinct material cultures found in these countries are less effective in other countries (though see the modified scheme developed by Mytum 2019 in chapter 6 of this volume). Development of the applications is rooted in the aim of defining local typologies in the multicultural and multinational Luxembourg Greater Region. Both application versions enforce data-collection standardizations. The applications can be used for any setting and location and allow for the export of a clean data file that is ready to be processed. Because the applications are based on an emergent, exploratory, and hermeneutical research design, both versions allow the design of typologies that are unique to a specific region and/or the adaptation of existing typologies to fit a new setting. From a grounded theory perspective, this refinement of the typology is a considerable advantage. However, the creation of the survey categories is an important time investment that should not be underestimated. The integration of an extended typology, for example, by adding another category, requires not only the definition and proof of a large enough number of cases to support addition, but also insertion of new attributes, and potentially icons, to the survey template, followed by retroactive coding of already-collected data. This is important, as a one-time appearance of a certain material or characteristic does not justify creation of a new category, otherwise impeding constructive analysis. It is for the researcher to judge the extent of survey context within the research process. Despite both tools having been varyingly effective in their tasks, they are still relatively primitive, providing complex and inconvenient installation processes, with some non-self-explanatory user interface components. Additional bugs require further attention, should the tool find a more wide-spread user community, application to other topics and fields, or additional funding. Regardless of their shortcomings, the current CS tools do provide a means to organize, standardize, and link data collection, to make the pro-

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cess convenient, while permitting a structured data export for processing in other applications. The use of CSA does not exempt the researcher from applying all other necessary methodological steps, precautions, and measures of prudence as the researcher would have applied had the data collection been conducted with the conventional pen and paper methods (Mytum 2000 and the developed system in Mytum 2019, chapter 6, this volume). Tools such as those for memorial surveying do not operate in a vacuum but rather within protocols, processes, and various places, and reused by people of different sociotechnical backgrounds. Defining the limits and capacity of surveying tools within this process is not self-evident, or simple. For example, within the development of these cemetery-surveying applications the desired independence and flexibility of the research tools frequently clashed with researcher technical expertise, strongly influencing the design process.

Suggested Improvements During application development, testing, and gathering feedback, some additional features became desirable to broaden the potential of the CS applications. It appears that many limitations of the individual applications could be addressed by integrating both platforms, allowing simultaneous collaboration on one data set while facilitating the associating of images by using devices in the field and then coding in a more comfortable setting, if desired. Dealing with the JSON survey template was a barrier that was repeatedly noted. Joining both platforms could also allow directly downloading the survey structure onto an Android device. Similarly, other standardized surveys could be downloaded (e.g., DEBS) and, with development of expanded export functions, contribute directly to such data-collection initiatives (e.g., DEBS, OASIS+). Some additional but incremental improvements could also facilitate workflows. Dealing with photos in WCS is cumbersome; allowing direct drag and drop from the operating system would facilitate linking. Transcribing text from graves is time consuming. Adding OCR functionality to images would save data-entry time, especially in the field. Similarly, machine learning could be used to recognize stone types, easing coding, accuracy, and helping train the surveyors. It is suggested that another input type be added to CSA: photography input templates that guide surveyors to take standardized photographs of graves from particular angles. Currently, photos are optional and not checked for completion. Finally, it appears that the CS tools, especially if integrated, would benefit from having a basic mapping feature present, allowing the spatial creation, selec-

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tion, and evaluation of elements. Such a feature would allow the creation of a survey plan in WCS, with identified sections and graves, that could be viewed and selected for data input in CSA, thus allowing the spatial evaluation of characteristics.

Conclusion This chapter discusses the software development process for a cemeterysurveying application and describes the two resulting tools that emerged from the process as well as their respective advantages and limitations. Surveying tools operate within human, operational, and physical contexts. The development of two similar cemetery-surveying tools, one for the Android platform (CSA) and another that was web-based (WCA), yielded mixed results in facilitating the mass surveying of cemetery graves depending on the technical expertise, exposure in the field, and constraints of devices and surveying locales. Pending improvements to the tools, it is recommended that researchers have technical assistance to set up either application. The tools presented here are, however, ready for use in a survey project if it is prepared and guided by thematic experts and with some technical assistance. To facilitate future cemetery-surveying work by researchers and hobbyists, an interlinked system consisting of affordances from both described applications appears to be one effective solution.

Christoph K. Streb is director of the Institute of Historical Archaeology of the Palatinate in Germany and alumnus of the Faculty of Humanities, Education and Social Sciences (FHSE) at the University of Luxembourg and the Department of Archaeology at Durham University. His current main research project deals with the materiality and spatiality of burial and commemoration during the nineteenth and twentieth century in the border region between Luxembourg and Germany. For his research, he applies historical-archaeological methodology, focusing on the development of modern identity and ideology. Cyrille Médard de Chardon is a postdoctoral researcher at the Luxembourg Institute of Socio-Economic Research (LISER). His current research interests are evaluating Smart City initiatives, smart-mobility, and studying new urban mobility structures and governance types, car-free cities, and the potential of sensors for citizen empowerment. Cyrille has been teaching Geographic Information Science for over a decade at institutions in Canada, the UK, and Luxembourg. He is currently involved

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in developing resources to assist teaching geography methodologies. https://orcid.org/0000–0003–4920–3047 Thomas Kolnberger is a research associate and lecturer in the Department of History, University of Luxembourg. His background is in history and historical/urban geography. From 2015 to 2018 he coordinated the research project Material Culture and Spaces of Remembrance. His focus, besides sepulchral culture, is now on the Military History of Luxembourg project; further details can be viewed at https://history.uni.lu/ team-thomas-kolnberger/.

References Discovering England’s Burial Spaces (DEBS). N.d. “DEBS Discovering England’s Burial Spaces.” Retrieved 25 March 2021 from http://debs.ac.uk/index.html. GitHub. 2020. “WebCemeterySurveyor.” Retrieved 25 March 2021 from github .com/serialc/CemeterySurveyor. Glaser, B. G. 2000. Discovery of Grounded Theory: Strategies for Qualitative Research. Abingdon: Routledge. Goody, J., and C. Poppi. 1994. “Flowers and Bones: Approaches to the Dead in Anglo-American and Italian Cemeteries.” Comparative Studies in Society and History 36(1): 146–175. Graas, A. 2017. “Spatiality and Materiality of Remembering the Dead. A Methodological Example to Detect and Analyse Patterns of Spatial Association in a MicroScale Environment.” Master’s thesis. Esch-Belval: University of Luxembourg. JSON. N.d. “Introducing JSON.” Retrieved 25 March 2021 from https://www.json .org/json-en.html. Kmec, S., A. Reuter, and R. L. Philippart, eds. 2019. Ewige Ruhe? Grabkulturen in Luxemburg und den Nachbarregionen / Concession à perpétuité? Cultures funéraires au Luxembourg et dans les régions voisines. Luxembourg: Capybara Books. Kolnberger, T. 2012. “Phnom Penh nach der urbanen Katastrophe: ‘Alltägliches Geographie-Machen’ am Beispiel der Standortentscheidungen von Wirtschaft und Handel in einer südostasiatischen Metropole.” MÖGG (Annals of the Austrian Geographical Society) 154: 235–260. https://austriaca.at/?arp=0x002d9 98c, open access. Mallios, S., and D. M. Caterino. 2011. “Mortality, Money, and Commemoration: Social and Economic Factors in Southern California Grave-Marker Change During the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries.” International Journal of Historical Archaeology 15(3): 429–460. Mey, G., and K. Mruck, eds. 2011 Grounded Theory Reader. Wiesbaden: VS Verlag für Sozialwissenschaften. Mytum, H. C. 2000. Recording and Analysing Graveyards. York: Council for British Archaeology. ———. 2009. “Mortality Symbols in Action: Protestant and Catholic Memorials in Early-Eighteenth-Century West Ulster.” Historical Archaeology 43(1): 160– 182.

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———. 2019. “Recording and Analysing Burial Grounds Advice Documentation, Sections Carrying out a Project, Recording, Identifying Monument Types, Photography and Additional Recording, Making a Plan.” Retrieved 20 July 2021 from http://www.debs.ac.uk/. Pillatt, T., G. Beale, K. Green, D. Maxwell, H. Mytum, K. Niven, J. Richards, and N. Smith. 2020. “Data Paper: The Burial Spaces Research Database.” Internet Archaeology 55. DOI: https://doi.org/10.11141/ia.55.3 Schmitt, D., V. Blondeau, S. Kmec, T. Kolnberger, and C. K. Streb. 2018. “Cimetière communal de Walferdange au Luxembourg. Les défunts sous le regard des vivants, vivre l’hétérotopie du cimetière.” In Des lieux pour penser: musées, bibliothèques, théâtres. Matériaux pour une discussion, ed. J. Botte, A. Doyen, V. Ferey, and C. Lebat, 264–268. Paris: ICOM-ICOFOM (https://hal.archives-ouvertes .fr/hal-01781404, open access). Streb, C. K. 2020. “The Materiality and Spatiality of Graves and Grave Markers in the Border Region between Luxembourg and Germany.” PhD dissertation. Esch-Belval: University of Luxembourg, and Durham: Durham University. Streb, C. K., T. Kolnberger, and S. Kmec. 2019. “The Material Culture of Burial and Its Microgeography: A Luxembourg Cemetery as a Methodological Example of an Object-Centred Approach to Quantitative Material Culture Studies.” Journal of Material Culture 24(2): 1–26. https://journals.sagepub.com/ doi/10.1177/1359183519840744, open access. Tarlow, S.. 1999. Bereavement and Commemoration: An Archaeology of Mortality. Oxford: Blackwell. Transmortality. N.d. Transmortality International: Materiality and Spatiality of Death, Burial and Commemoration. Project RIP. Retrieved 25 March 2021 from https://transmortality.uni.lu/.

CHAPTER 13

A Website for St. James’ Cemetery, Liverpool Demonstrating the Value of Material Culture in the Dissemination of Cemetery Data Online Anna Fairley Nielsson

Introduction The first nineteenth-century garden cemetery was established in Paris in 1804 and offered a welcome, peaceful, and landscaped alternative to overcrowded inner-city churchyards. Similar cemeteries were soon established in Britain and the United States, with Liverpool developing one of the first (Liverpool Necropolis) in 1825. Since their development and successes of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, these cemeteries have widely faced decline, and in many cases, demolition. What remains of these valuable urban sites can provide important historical information. Indeed, Historic England (2020) has recognized that: “The inscription on memorials, the design of monuments, the choice of stones, the architecture of building and the landscape design shed light on past social customs and events and combine to make a cemetery an irreplaceable historical resource.” The potential of this vast source of valuable information has only recently been acknowledged and is still often overlooked. Until relatively recently, heritage legislation was rarely applied to postmedieval sites, and funding is often hard to find even when interest is shown. Cemeteries are often neglected due to issues of ownership and financial difficulties. In the 1970s, architectural historian J. S. Curl became a leading figure in promoting the importance of Victorian cemeteries (Curl 1972), and the parallel but distinct increased emphasis given to the importance of mortuary archaeology gradually began to be more widely applied to include historic sites. This led to the publication of several guides to systematic burial

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ground recording, and an increase in archaeological studies of historic cemeteries and burial grounds (Mytum 2004; Baugher and Veit 2014). The approval of recent grants by the National Lottery Heritage Fund to a number of cemeteries as well as the Historic England–funded Discovering England’s Burial Spaces (DEBS) project reflect a growing public interest in these urban spaces. The need and interest in increasing public engagement with historic cemeteries has therefore become apparent, to benefit not only the sites themselves, but also the people who interact with them. Preservation of these green spaces in busy urban environments benefits the health of city residents (Historic England 2018a), as well as the local wildlife, while offering valuable insights into the societies that came before us. It is clear that using a cemetery’s above-ground material culture is a valuable way to encourage community interest in the site. Demonstrating that the gravestones and memorials themselves have value by providing examples of what they can tell us enables us to promote the need to conserve and protect the sites. The rise of the internet in recent decades has enabled the establishment and growth of a wide variety of websites relating to cemeteries and burial grounds. Heritage websites—including digital resources for museums, libraries, archives, historic buildings, parks, and archaeological sites—have proved their importance as immersive educational experiences for everyone, irrespective of a user’s location and needs (Kabassi 2017; van der Hoeven 2018). The following project demonstrates the potential for a combination of above-ground archaeology and digital media to increase public engagement with historic cemeteries.

Analysis of International Cemetery Websites Websites dedicated to cemetery and gravestone resources provide an ideal forum to discuss and promote issues of conservation and encourage public engagement, but a thorough analysis of their potentials, strengths, and weaknesses has hitherto not been conducted. Some of these websites provide data from multiple cemeteries across countries worldwide and aim to form international resources for heritage and family history projects. BillionGraves, Find A Grave, and The Gravestone Photographic Resource have emerged as the dominant websites containing international gravestone data. BillionGraves was developed in 2010 specifically to meet the needs of the genealogical community, and claims to be the world’s largest resource of searchable GPS cemetery data (BillionGraves 2020). The site allows searches by name, which then display results showing matching headstones in cemeteries across the world, or alternatively searches for all

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gravestones from specific cemeteries. Complete records include an image of the memorial, some biographical information, GPS location, and links to other nearby graves and further genealogical information. Volunteers worldwide photograph and transcribe headstones, which are then uploaded to the free database. The company also provides a free app from which it is possible to conduct grave searches as well as the easy upload of images with GPS co-ordinates taken from a smartphone. However, there appears to be little moderation of uploads, allowing any user to upload images of varying quality with potentially inaccurate or imprecise location information. Due to the site’s genealogical focus, there are no insights into the cemeteries’ material culture, such as details or patterns of memorial style. However, the ability to view thousands of images of gravestones worldwide does present the potential for observing trends and patterns within the cemeteries that have more complete information. The ability to view a satellite map of a cemetery with pins linked to gravestone data demonstrates the potential for such technology in mapping massive amounts of cemetery data. Find A Grave is an alternative grave search website that “provides tools that let people from all over the world work together, share information, and build an online, virtual cemetery experience” (Find A Grave 2020). It currently allows a search of memorials from over 500,000 cemeteries and includes 190 million virtual memorials created by the community since 1995. Each search result provides a name, dates of birth and death, and the cemetery where the memorial is located. The individual memorial pages also allow the addition of photographs, virtual gifts, and notes of remembrance. Images of memorials are optional, and as a result many records only provide the name and date of death of an individual. Attention is given to the graves of celebrities, and as with BillionGraves, there is no insight outside of the biographical focus. The images here do not require GPS co-ordinates (as on BillionGraves), so a similar geographical profile of cemeteries is not possible. The focus here is also primarily genealogical, evident from its ownership by Ancestry.com. The Gravestone Photographic Resource was established in 1998. Set up as a hobby, it encourages volunteers to help photograph and index cemeteries to provide an international directory of grave monuments (Gravestone Photographic Resource 2020). Images of monuments from forty-one countries are searchable by the deceased’s name, and results show basic information about the individual and the cemetery in which the monument resides. Gravestones can also be explored by cemetery location. A group of webpages includes specific details on military casualties, celebrities, interesting graves, and various causes of death including drowning and murder. All resources are provided by volunteers and the owner states that it is a fundamental policy never to charge for an image.

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The website declares itself as a resource for family historians, which is reflected in the information the results provide. Historic Graves is an additional website that records grave monuments internationally. It is an Irish-based collaborative heritage project that trains local community groups in surveying historic graveyards (Historic Graves 2020). Groups such as schools, museums, and history societies are trained to use digital cameras and smartphones to survey local graveyards and photograph memorials. These are then transcribed by volunteers and presented online to create a multi-media online record of historic graves in their local area. So far, the project has surveyed a quarter of all Irish graveyards with over five hundred community groups, with a small number of others surveyed abroad. The site’s blog discusses some archaeological themes and serves as more of an archaeological resource than BillionGraves and Find A Grave. Historic Graves has extensive coverage in Ireland completed by those with some archaeological training. However, records are patchy and inconsistent in some places, and the resource is not on the same scale as the family history–based websites. Despite the project being directed by heritage officers and archaeologists, the majority of the website content does not directly reflect this, with no analysis of memorial style or development.

Analysis of British Cemetery Websites The other main category of cemetery websites relates to individual local cemeteries, and in Britain these are often set up by individuals with an interest in local or family history, or by local voluntary organizations (usually known as Friends groups). Analysis of websites dedicated to seventy-three British cemeteries was conducted with the aim of ascertaining what type of data is provided to the public (particularly that made available at no cost), with specific interest given to the extent to which their material culture is discussed or analyzed. All cemeteries established prior to the Burial Acts of the 1850s were included to provide a dataset comparable in date to Liverpool’s St. James’s Cemetery (1829), which is discussed in the following section. In addition, all members of the National Federation of Cemetery Friends (NFCF) with websites were included (National Federation of Cemetery Friends 2020), and it was also noted whether each cemetery is listed in Historic England’s Register of Parks and Gardens of Special Historic Interest (Historic England 2018b). Twelve features were analyzed for each cemetery website: cemetery history; burials of notable people; military graves; architecture; ecology; the provision of a map; a free names search (or link to one elsewhere online); memorial inscriptions; memorial photos; an interactive plot map; discussion of motifs or

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symbolism; and material culture analysis. Memorial inscriptions, motifs and symbolism, and material culture analysis were considered the three key archaeological components. On average, the websites surveyed contained only four of these twelve elements (Figure 13.1). Ninety-two percent of websites discussed the cemetery’s history, with 65 percent providing information on notable people buried in the cemetery. Of the three aspects chosen to assess the archaeological component, transcription of inscriptions was the most common (13 percent), likely a result of genealogical interest. These provide an opportunity to consider inscription order and language use on memorials. Memorial motifs were mentioned on eight (11 percent) of the websites, demonstrating some interest in closer examination of memorials, but this is by no means commonplace. Only three (4 percent) of all websites included any type of material culture analysis. Additionally, largely absent from the majority of websites reviewed were spatial analyzes of the cemeteries. Some websites include a satellite map with pins linked to gravestone data (such as BillionGraves, Leeds Beckett Street, and Edinburgh Newington), which has been used more extensively by websites for cemeteries in the United States such as Mount Auburn, Boston (Mount Auburn Cemetery 2020). The application of this technology demonstrates the potential for detailed archaeological spatial analysis using Geographic Information Systems (GIS). The survey showed no significant difference between websites for cemeteries still in use com-

Figure 13.1. Percentage of cemetery websites discussing each element analyzed. Image created by Anna Fairley Nielsson.

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pared to those converted to gardens, for those registered compared to unregistered, and those with or without Friends groups who are current members of the NFCF. The website dedicated to Mill Road Cemetery in Cambridge (Mill Road Cemetery 2020) discusses the largest number of elements analyzed (eleven out of twelve). A large section dedicated to the history of the cemetery (established in 1848) details its context, layout, design, and architecture. It also discusses the results of a 2009 archaeological dig on the site that identified the foundations of the demolished chapel, demonstrating that there is some archaeological interest in the grounds. The graves section includes a free searchable database of information gathered during a detailed survey by the Cambridge Family History Society combined with research conducted by the Friends’ History Group. It is searchable by name and also includes a large selection of individuals for which more detailed “life stories” are known. This section also includes listed memorials and war graves, with maps detailing different trails around the cemetery. An additional section details the natural history of the cemetery, with information on its wildlife and flora. Significantly, there is a section providing educational resources, encouraging the engagement of pupils with the vast quantities and types of information available. Worksheets are given for a variety of subjects, notably religious education (which deal with Christian symbolism and grave data collection), and history (which consider reasons for establishment, primary sources, the types of memorials, and what can be learned from them). This selection of worksheets shows the vast array of topics that can be used to engage children with cemeteries, although the conclusions that can and have been drawn from such research are not displayed online. There is potential missed here for combining the types of research encouraged in the worksheets with the Family History Society survey. Northwood Cemetery, in Cowes on the Isle of Wight, was established in 1856, and its website (Friends of Northwood Cemetery 2020) discusses the second largest number of elements surveyed (eight out of twelve). As well as pages on the development and history of the cemetery and its natural history, the website uniquely provides oral histories. Recordings of four individuals (compiling over six hours of audio in total) contain memories of the cemetery’s past and Cowes’s history more generally and are playable directly within the web browser. A searchable burial database is provided that contains basic burial information and a detailed plot map. The Friends of Northwood Cemetery are also in the process of transcribing the Burial Board Minute books, which are presented online in pdf format. Information guides provide maps of trails around the cemetery and key information. A memorials trail gives examples of “unusual and extravagant examples of the stonemason’s skills,” and a webpage con-

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tains photographs of a variety of symbols found on memorials, but the cemetery’s material culture is not discussed beyond this. York Cemetery was established in 1837, and its website (York Cemetery 2020) is one of the few surveyed to contain information on the cemetery’s material culture. Discussing seven of the twelve elements, the majority of the information given regards the cemetery’s history, notable burials, and important material regarding current and future burials. Sixteen detailed self-guided walking trails are provided, one of which discusses the geology of the site and memorials in depth. The historic landscape trail also considers how culture is expressed in the cemetery through its monuments and landscape. Alongside the websites for Cambridge Mill Road and York, the website for St. Sepulchre’s Cemetery in Oxford is the only other to briefly discuss material culture (Friends of St. Sepulchre’s 2020). Discussing five of the twelve elements analyzed (slightly above the total average), one webpage discusses the work of local sculptor Thomas Grimsley and his sons, and identifies the variety of extant stones crafted by their firm. It is also important to note that twenty (22 percent) of the cemeteries chosen either for their date of establishment, registered status, or NFCF membership have no website available. Manchester General (Harpurhey) Cemetery, established in 1837, had a website that was active between 2010 and 2018 and included a free grave search and discussion of motifs and symbolism. Two others (Newcastle Jesmond Old and London Woodgrange Park) became unavailable during the writing of this chapter. These rapid changes demonstrate the impermanence of websites set up by volunteer individuals or organizations. It is clear that cost is a major factor in the limitation of data presented online. Many websites offer grave search services, some confirming only a deceased’s name, with others providing a location and image of the gravestone. Costs vary between cemetery and search type and range from £5 to £40 per search request. A study conducted by Mytum et al. (2015) identified a sense of ownership and the potential for financial gain by limiting access as reasons that many cemetery groups do not publish complete data. Payment to access information is undesirable but appears necessary in some cases to keep websites online. It is evident that the information regarding nineteenth-century cemeteries available online is dominated by genealogical and biographical data. Observation of the material culture of cemeteries and using it to learn about the sociocultural status of those buried in them is rarely addressed online. This finding is consistent with the 2015 Mytum et al. study, in which none of the cemetery Friends groups who responded claimed to record any archaeological or material aspects of their cemetery, other than taking digital photos. The evidently wide interest in online biographical

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and genealogical information presents the opportunity to expand these existing resources to include a more archaeological approach.

St. James’ Cemetery: History and Context In 1825, the year that the non-Conformist Liverpool Necropolis opened, a meeting was held in Liverpool to discuss the necessity of a public cemetery affiliated with the Church of England. A former stone quarry (now alongside Liverpool Cathedral) was chosen for the site of the cemetery, and 1,500 shares of £10 each were sold to provide funding. Construction on the 3.7-hectare site began in 1827, to the plans of the local architect John Foster Junior. Broad ramps lined the eastern wall allowing for the procession of funeral carriages, and catacombs were cut into the rock face. The mortuary chapel was situated prominently on the higher ground to the north-west of the site, accessed from the cemetery grounds by a small subterranean tunnel through the rock (Figure 13.2). The cemetery was consecrated in January 1829, and its economic success became apparent almost immediately—by 1830, the company was paying a dividend of 8 percent (Brooks 1989, 10). The cemetery began to fill rapidly, with a peak of 2,640 burials in 1857 (around seven interments a day). Complaints regarding the sanitation of the cemetery rose in line with wider concerns over public health in the mid-nineteenth century, and as the cemetery began to fill up, petitions for closure circulated periodically throughout the remainder of the nineteenth century.

Figure 13.2. St. James’s Cemetery, looking north, 1829, by T. M Baynes and R. Fenner.

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Figure 13.3. View of St. James’ Cemetery 1896. Image 352 PSP/26/13/17. Courtesy Liverpool Record Office, Liverpool Libraries.

In 1901, the site of St. James’ Mount was chosen for the new cathedral, and its foundation stone was laid in 1904. The number of annual interments decreased gradually from the turn of the century, and as the centre of the population moved out of the city and new cemeteries were provided, the trustees had difficulty filling vacancies. By the 1930s, the trustees no longer had funds for the continued maintenance of the cemetery, and in 1936 the Liverpool Corporation acquired the grounds, declaring that they would be converted to a public garden. The last burial took place in July 1936, and the cemetery closed after a total of 57,839 recorded burials. The site, however, was neglected and quickly became overgrown and in disrepair. The insecure nature of the site and its frequentation by drug users and the incidence of other unfavourable activities finally let to action being taken by the Corporation in the 1960s. The cost of maintenance of the site as it remained was considered too great, and the majority of the memorials were cleared, with some buried at the southern end of the site and others lining the sides of the grounds. Again, the gardens were neglected, and the site continued to deteriorate. In 2001, the Friends of St. James’ Garden was established by the Archbishop’s Council and the Conservation Foundation. The growing appreciation for cemeteries as important historic sites encouraged recog-

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nition of St. James’ as a valuable ecological, historical, and recreational resource. In 2002, the former cemetery was registered under the Historic Buildings and Ancient Monuments Act of 1953 within the Register of Historic Parks and Gardens. Ongoing work by the Friends has included the renewal of pathways, installation of litter bins, clearance of rubbish, discouragement of inappropriate behaviour, and maintenance of planting and stone walling. The Friends have also encouraged the involvement of local schools and residents as well as the performances of outdoor theatre groups. The Conservation Foundation arranged limited funding for the digitization of the burial registers in the early 2000s, and a database of 14,740 names (approximately one quarter of all burials) was created before the project ceased.

St. James’ Cemetery: Survey and Analysis The cemetery site faces a multitude of serious preservation issues, including major risks to structural and ecological components. However, the greatest danger of lost information comes from the deterioration and damage of memorials. These face destruction through both natural processes (such as weathering and biological processes) and as a result of human activity (such as pollution and vandalism). Approximately 1,154 memorials remain, although this can only be an estimate as many are broken into multiple pieces or are placed face down; 1,033 (90 percent) of these are at least partially legible. In total, the remaining memorials record 3,533 legible names, with the extant above-ground material culture therefore representing only 6 percent of all burials. Headstones and ledgers, predominantly made of sandstone, form the majority of memorials. Several tall monuments of a variety of materials remain, particularly in the north-east corner of the site. There are eight low monuments, and three chest tombs remaining. The majority of catacombs are bricked over with no remaining commemorations. After an initial broad assessment, a sketch map was created, and all memorials were assigned numbers. Broken or partial stones and partially buried stones were included in the plan, as they are still able to provide information on the locations, materials, shapes, and estimated sizes of stones even if the inscription is no longer visible. After numbering, each memorial was examined in greater depth, and some key information recorded. This included the names of the individuals commemorated; the order of commemoration; date of death; age at death; relationships between those commemorated; occupations; and any mentioned locations. Gender, if not specified, was assumed from the individual’s first name. The Liverpool Record Office holds the archived book of burial statistics

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for the cemetery, which gives data on all burials from 1829 until 1908. 41,771 individuals were recorded (72 percent of the total recorded burials). The majority of these include information on the age and gender of the deceased. Comparing these data with the records collected from the memorials provides an idea of the level of representation in the cemetery. Males slightly outnumber females represented on memorials: 50.6 percent of burials recorded were of males (49.4 percent females), and 51.1 percent of the individuals commemorated on the stones were male (48.9 percent female). When considering the age at death of individuals in the burial statistics, 30.9 percent of all burials were of infants under two years old, and 43.8 percent were of children under ten years old. The survey of memorials showed that only 15.1 percent of named individuals were under two years old, and 24.4 percent under ten years old. A comparison of the number of individuals from each age category shows that those under twenty years old were greatly underrepresented on memorials, with those over twenty years old overrepresented (Figure 13.4). This could be a result of two social processes. It has previously been considered that the large number of infant and child deaths resulted in their being considered of less societal value. The expectation that so many children would die before adulthood led to, or required, less emotional attachment and therefore a less expressive mourning process, as purported by historians such as Philippe Ariès (1962). However, this thesis is not supported by documentary evi-

Figure 13.4. Comparison of percentages of individuals buried and individuals commemorated with relation to age. Image created by Anna Fairley Nielsson.

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dence such as that published by a minister of Liverpool Necropolis (Bruce 1845). Alternatively, therefore, we can consider that the higher infant death rate among poorer sections of society (Mitchell 1988, 142) resulted in fewer memorials for children because they were unaffordable. In addition to using the burial statistics and memorials together to draw conclusions about society’s attitude toward age, it is possible to infer patterns from the memorials alone. It is important to remember that the first name on an inscription does not always belong to the individual whose death triggered the memorial’s erection (Mytum 2002). However, observing the order of names, particularly when non-chronological, can yield insight into societal roles and hierarchies. Adults between the ages of sixteen and sixty-nine years old were most likely to be listed first on a memorial (34.8 percent of these are listed first). Children under sixteen years old were less likely to be listed first (25.6 percent), with adults over seventy years old even less likely—22.6 percent of these individuals are first commemorations. Further research is needed to establish whether this reflects anything of society’s treatment of the elderly, or if their lower position on inscriptions is due to their outliving other family members. In nineteenth-century Britain, only two genders were socially accepted, and there was a strict divide between them. Observing how the different genders are described on memorials can provide information regarding how men and women were treated in society and how they were characterized after death. The language used when commemorating an individual can give an indication of their social position. Of all male individuals over twenty years old in the study, 45.3 percent are referred to in relation to another person, for example as “father” or “husband.” In comparison, 84.8 percent of equivalent women are referred to in relation to another person, such as “mother” or “wife.” When considering only spousal relationships, this difference is even more striking, with 9.8 percent of men referred to as “husband” and 66.3 percent of women referred to as “wife” or “relict” (widow). Conversely, male infants (boys under two years old) were slightly more likely to be referred to as “son” (74 percent) than girls were as “daughter” (68 percent). Although this becomes more complex when considering age by decade, the general trend is that males are least likely to be referred to in relation to another person after the age of thirty years old. Again, observing the order of memorial commemorations, it is evident that more males than females are listed first (57.8 percent to 42.2 percent), likely reflecting the social dominance of males in the nineteenth century. Generally, females were much more likely to be described in relation to their family and home life than were males, emphasising the ideal domestic role for women encouraged by society. Men, however, were far more likely to be characterized by their occupation: 208 of the commemorations surveyed include the respective individual’s occupation, only six

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of whom were female; eighty-four (40 percent) of these are maritime jobs, reflecting the importance of Liverpool as a port city.

St. James’ Cemetery: The Website A website for St. James’ Cemetery was developed in 1998 by a local historian in order to share his personal research. As with the majority of websites reviewed, this included a history of the cemetery and a list of notable burials. Additional webpages gave information on other aspects of the cemetery, such as the spring, tunnels, and oratory. The partial burials list created by the Friends group was available in the form of a Microsoft Excel spreadsheet, accessed via a link at the bottom of one of the webpages. The original website contained four of the twelve elements analyzed earlier: cemetery history, notable burials, architecture, and a (partial) free names search. Acquisition of the website was completed in late 2017, shortly before the expiration of the web hosting service, as the original owner anticipated taking his research offline due to funding and time constraints. The first step taken was to make the burials list spreadsheet searchable on the website (Fairley 2020a). The structure and design of the website was then developed with the aim of providing as much information in a format easily navigated on both desktop and mobile devices. A constant menu bar allows for navigation to the home page, directions, frequently asked questions, and the burials database with one click from any webpage. The heritage reference book Museum Basics recommends that the simplest text scheme in conventional museum exhibitions has three parts (Ambrose and Paine 2006, 100): an introductory panel, section panels, and object labels. Designing a heritage website with a similar structure allows the user to access as much or as little information as desired. The home page serves as the introductory panel by providing a brief introduction to the website and cemetery and presents the different sections of the website in one place. The eight main sections of the website serve as chapters, each with text and images on the relevant subject. The third level or “object labels” include information about individual items, such as a biography of an individual buried at the cemetery, or a specific image or map. The sketch map created during the cemetery survey was then digitized using Google My Maps, allowing a search by any name or monument number to identify its location (Fairley 2020b). This was then cross-referenced with the burials database. The final and most significant development was to present data obtained from the memorial survey in a way that allows visitors (both in person and online) to engage with the key themes. Mytum (2007, 421)

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recognized two main groups of themes particularly suitable for development in the interpretation of historic cemeteries: anthropological themes indicated by memorials, and material culture and symbolism. The first of these incorporates social identities and how they are reflected and created through memorials, and in this case, use the data collected regarding gender roles and age. Some of the key statistics were represented as infographics to make the complex information more immediately eye-catching and digestible. These consist of simple icons of human figures and bright colors to promote key results (Figure 13.5). Additionally, examining details of the material culture and symbolism can provide information on sculptors, materials, and changing fashions— particularly if these are observed in relation to space, time, and cultural context (Mytum 2007). Observing the styles and symbols of memorials can be a simple step to encourage visitors to engage more with the available archaeology. Photographs were taken of a selection of motifs and symbols from memorials in the cemetery and displayed on the website along with traditional interpretations. Further analysis currently in progress will reveal trends in memorial design over time, which can be added to the existing content. The redeveloped website went live in late 2018, and data collected by Google Analytics (Google 2020) for the calendar year of 2019 show a total of 4,450 visitors viewing a combined total of 33,633 webpages. The greatest proportion of these were visits to the webpages discussing notable people and to the section on the cemetery’s history (in total each accounting for 21 percent of all pageviews outside of the homepage). The new searchable database attracted 1,929 views (7 percent), and the 2,532

Figure 13.5. Infographic depicting gender relationships from St. James’ Cemetery website. Screen capture by Anna Fairley Nielsson.

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Figure 13.6. The symbols page on the St. James’ Cemetery website. Screen capture by Anna Fairley Nielsson.

visits to the new memorials section consisted of 9 percent of all views outside of the homepage. Of these, the webpages discussing the memorials’ motifs and symbolism were the most popular (72 percent of these visits), with the other two sections on age and gender accounting for 17 percent and 11 percent, respectively.

Conclusions Previous publications have demonstrated that cemeteries are valuable and irreplaceable sources of historic and archaeological information, and progress has been made in efforts to preserve them. It is also evident that websites and other digital resources play an important part in the promotion of, and education about, heritage sites. An analysis of the strengths and weaknesses of websites dedicated to nineteenth-century cemeteries has shown that their potential has not yet been fully achieved. Information gained from archaeological surveys is not routinely disseminated on the internet, and therefore the opportunity to engage the public with these insights is missed.

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It is noteworthy that many of the cemetery groups whose websites were surveyed above also run social media accounts, most popularly through Twitter and Facebook; 63 percent of all cemeteries surveyed (both those with and those without their own websites) have active social media. The popularity of other similar accounts also needs to be considered, with Facebook groups such as Liverpool Gravestones comprising over seven hundred members (Liverpool Gravestones 2020). Further research would assess the types and quantity of information posted, their popularity, and if these accounts prompt any archaeological interest or give any interpretation of extant memorials. The development of the website for St. James’ Cemetery has confirmed that it is possible to gather archaeological data and present it in an accessible and effective online format. It has shown that archaeological surveys can be undertaken in historic cemeteries—even when they have been at risk of destruction—to give important insights into society and culture at the time of their use. For the first time, it has been demonstrated how archaeological analysis can be included on independent cemetery websites and that this information can attract a notable proportion of interest from visitors. This can be achieved by using topics that can engage the public, such as familial relationships, rather than relying only on the stories of a small number of local notable individuals (although interest in these has shown to be consistently popular). Bringing attention to the motifs on memorials also draws the visitor in and encourages them to examine the less immediately imposing monuments more closely. Ongoing analysis of the data collected from the St. James’ Cemetery survey and study of other Liverpool cemeteries will provide further insight into the way memorials define and reflect nineteenth-century society. Using material culture, a move can be made away from a purely descriptive genealogical approach toward a more inclusive and engaging one. This richer understanding of the information cemeteries can reveal will encourage greater appreciation for these spaces as they are today.

Anna Fairley Nielsson is a postgraduate researcher in archaeology at the University of Liverpool. She has a background in image conservation and reproduction, and has worked on various projects exploring the local history of Liverpool. Her current research focus is the development and management of the city’s nineteenth-century cemeteries and reflections of aspects of identity through the its memorials as well as community engagement with these spaces.

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References Ambrose, T., and C. Paine, 2006. Museum Basics. 2nd ed. London: Routledge. Ariès, P. 1962. Centuries of Childhood: A Social History of Family Life. Translated by R. Baldick New York: Vintage Books. Baugher, S., and R. F. Veit. 2014. The Archaeology of American Cemeteries and Gravemarkers. Gainesville: University Press of Florida. Billion Graves. 2020. BillionGraves. Retrieved 31 August 2021 from https://billion graves.com/. Brooks, C. 1989. Mortal Remains: The History and Present State of the Victorian and Edwardian Cemetery. Exeter: Wheaton Bruce, J. 1845. A Cypress Wreath for An Infant’s Grave. 2nd ed. Liverpool: D. Marples. Curl, J. S. 1972. The Victorian Celebration of Death. Newton Abbot: David & Charles. Fairley, A. J. 2020a. “Burials Database—St. James’ Cemetery.” Retrieved 31 August 2021 from http://www.stjamescemetery.co.uk/index/page/database. Fairley, A. J. 2020b. “St. James’ Cemetery—Google My Maps.” Retrieved 31 August 2021 from https://drive.google.com/open?id=1Bs4Tx7fSPstUTb6PNH_ aVNNVeqQy8l2p&usp=sharing. Find A Grave. 2020. “Find A Grave—Millions of Cemetery Records.” Retrieved 31 August 2021 from https://www.findagrave.com/. Friends of Northwood Cemetery. 2020. Retrieved 31 August 2021 from http:// www.friendsofnorthwoodcemetery.org.uk/. Friends of St. Sepulchre’s Cemetery. 2020. Retrieved 31 August 2021 from http:// www.stsepulchres.org.uk/. Gravestone Photographic Resource. 2020. Retrieved 31 August 2021 from https:// www.gravestonephotos.com/. Google. 2020. “Analytics Tools & Solutions for Your Business—Google Analytics.” Retrieved 31 August 2021 from https://www.google.com/analytics. Historic England. 2018a. “Wellbeing and the Historic Environment.” Retrieved 31 August 2021 from https://historicengland.org.uk/images-books/publications/ wellbeing-and-the-historic-environment/. Historic England. 2018b. “List of Registered Cemeteries.” Retrieved 31 August 2021 from https://historicengland.org.uk/images-books/publications/list-ofregistered-cemeteries/registered-cemeteries-list-jan18/. Historic England. 2020. “The Importance of Historic Cemeteries and Burial Grounds.” Retrieved 31 August 2021 from https://historicengland.org.uk/ advice/caring-for-heritage/cemeteries-and-burial-grounds/importance. Historic Graves. 2020. “Historic Graves | Explore, Protect, Promote.” Retrieved 31 August 2021 from https://historicgraves.com/ . Kabassi, K. 2017. “Evaluating Websites of Museums: State of the Art.” Journal of Cultural Heritage 24: 184–196. Liverpool Gravestones. 2020. Facebook. Retrieved 31 August 2021 from https:// www.facebook.com/groups/584230515643046/. Mill Road Cemetery. 2020. Retrieved 31 August 2021 from http://millroadcem etery.org.uk/. Mitchell, S. 1988. Victorian Britain: An Encyclopedia. New York & London: Garland Publishing, Inc.

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Mount Auburn Cemetery. 2020. “Mount Auburn Cemetery Map—Remember My Journey.” Retrieved 31 August 2021 from https://www.remembermyjourney .com/Search/Cemetery/325/Map. Mytum, H. 2002. “The Dating of Graveyard Memorials: Evidence from the Stones.” Post-Medieval Archaeology 36(1): 1–38. ———. 2004. Mortuary Monuments and Burial Grounds of the Historic Period. New York: Kluwer Academic/Plenum Publishers. ———. 2007. “Beyond Famous Men and Women: Interpreting Historic Burial Grounds and Cemeteries.” In Past Meets Present: Archaeologists Partnering with Museum Curators, Teachers, and Community Groups, ed. S. Baugher, S. and J. Jameson Jr., 411–426. New York: Springer. Mytum, H., J. Cameron, and K. Chapman. 2015. “Developing Local Assessment Toolkits—A Scoping Study to Look at Developing a Standard Model for Recording Cemeteries and Burial Grounds.” Project Number: 6358. London: Historic England. National Federation of Cemetery Friends. 2020. “Members of the National Federation of Cemetery Friends.” Retrieved 31 August 2021 from https://www.cem eteryfriends.com/members/. Van der Hoeven, A. 2018. Online Urban Heritage: The Societal Value of Participatory Heritage Websites. Rotterdam: Erasmus Research Centre for Media, Communication and Culture. York Cemetery. 2020. Retrieved 31 August 2021 from http://yorkcemetery.org.uk/.

CHAPTER 14

Burial Ground Recording and Analysis Where Next? Harold Mytum and Richard Veit

Introduction This volume has provided a collection of chapters that reveal the innovations in methods being developed for the particular requirements of historic burial ground recording, analysis, and archiving. Some chapters focus on new methodologies, others on combining methods to create a more effective project; all use case study data to reveal the effectiveness—but also often the limitations—of cutting-edge projects in the early twenty-first century. These studies will assist those planning research and cultural resource management projects on these significant heritage assets that can be found in and near all areas of settlement, and they point fieldworkers to the necessary resources and the ways in which various methodologies can be applied to a mortuary landscape. The new developments revealed in this volume demonstrate the dynamism of this subfield of historical archaeology; but it is worth considering how both refinement and application of these techniques on the one hand and the development of new ones on the other can even further consolidate the progress described and evaluated here. In this concluding essay, we consider how the innovations discussed here can be more widely applied and how doing so will not only increase understanding in the field studies where they are applied but also contribute to wider archaeological questions that can utilize above-ground mortuary data. We will also suggest innovations in other aspects of archaeology that could be adapted and applied in a mortuary context, and how the evidence collected by projects can have greater value in public interpretation and heritage-informed management than has often been the case to date.

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Applying the Innovations Discussed in This Volume within the Discipline Innovations are only significant if they become widely applied, and then form part of a revised repertoire of accepted methods within the discipline. As archaeologists, we identify those innovations in style and technology that become popular, and others that remain limited. Some new methods seem straightforward but require expertise and sensitivity to be applied effectively. This is particularly the case if these methods are to be used by avocational or community groups or professionals with limited experience of historic mortuary archaeology, as is often the case in cultural resource management contexts. The use of documentary sources to identify burials that are unmarked provides an important aspect that, for many burial areas, is not as straightforward as consulting a cemetery plan of interments. Most sites were never recorded in this way by their managers, and for others the records have been lost. This documentary research can combine with geophysical methods that have been developed, and can discover the lost and the historically under-appreciated segments of past societies, and those graves that were once marked but have lost their monuments through erosion or clearance. As this volume has been compiled during the time of COVID-19, it is noteworthy that this interdisciplinary approach can identify interments (individual but in large numbers or collective burials to cope with the scale of deaths) during epidemics (Nonestied, chapter 2). To conduct a full documentary study effectively, it is often necessary to include a historian in the team; specialists such as geophysical surveyors are routinely employed, but archaeologists often feel that they can conduct the documentary research themselves. While this is the case for some standard data, for more complex and subtle investigations a historian’s skills are required both to search out the sources and to critically evaluate what they can reliably tell us. With history taking a “material turn” (Bennett and Joyce 2013; Green 2012), the combination of archaeologists and historians on burial ground research should be a fertile opportunity: memorials combine text and physical attributes, they link people to things that should engage historians and can lead to multi- and inter-disciplinary research that has been surprisingly limited in historical archaeology. The Anglo-Indian experience well studied by historians takes a new direction when informed by an archaeologist’s eye (Veit, chapter 7). The use of aerial survey will undoubtedly become far more frequent in field projects of all kinds (Hunter et al., chapter 4), and mortuary site surveys can also benefit, particularly if image resolution is high enough to identify individual monuments. Indeed, this can considerably expedite field surveys. However, two frequently found limitations will require

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careful monitoring and amelioration. The first is tree cover, particularly coniferous plantings that will hide parts of the ground surface. As such trees have been popular introductions to burial ground landscapes, this may be a significant limitation to aerial survey creating a full base map for ground truth survey. Deciduous trees may present no issues if the survey is conducted in the winter, but dense plantings may still impede memorial location. The other main challenge is ground cover, which may be undergrowth and even long grass that can hide memorials, particularly ones that are small or consist of kerbs. Just as with a traditional measured surface survey, it may be that a clearance phase is required before the use of aerial survey, and again time of year may affect the quality of the output. Many surveys now combine multiple sources of spatial data, and those utilizing GIS in this volume have demonstrated that this investment in collating the diverse sources can have multiple advantages, some perhaps not anticipated at the start of the project. For example, the DEBS recording system data (Mytum, chapter 6; Richards et al., chapter 11) can enable phase plotting the burial ground development, plot by memorial type, and consider whether there are family zones using the biographical data. The combination of surface survey, documentary, and subsurface survey data (such as ground-penetrating radar or magnetometry) can provide a more complete mapping of interments than any one method would produce (Suffin and Dean, chapter 3), and then graphically represent these through GIS. With topographical data and aerial scanned data, it may be possible to represent the burial ground in three-dimensional modelling. Indeed, 3-D ground-penetrating radar is increasingly becoming the norm in some parts of the world where soil conditions enable its effective application (Hansen et al. 2014; Dick et al. 2017). The application of the standard recording system, or even if adapted and selective still using the same coding, enables large data bases to be created and compared (Richards et al., chapter 11; Streb et al., chapter 13). Just as the creation and contribution to the Digital Archaeological Archive of Comparative Slavery (DAACS) data base has transformed North American and Caribbean slavery studies (Bates et al. 2020), so the adoption of the standard system—and archiving the resulting data in opensource locations—would transform mortuary studies. Many legacy data sets reside in researchers’ hands could be revived and reworked to fit the modern classifications discussed here, and then archived and made widely available, again just as some older excavation data sets were reworked to become DAACS-compatible. The comparison between legacy data and a modern re-survey can reveal degradation, but also, in some cases, old memorials that have either been recovered during grave digging, or had

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previously been obscured in undergrowth or buried beneath the turf if they had been ledgers or kerbs, or if they were fallen headstones. Old surveys may have only recorded a few attributes; these can now be upgraded with more extensive recording, creating a richer and more comprehensive record. But even if only those attributes recorded can be coded appropriately, these partial sets may still have comparative value if those are the attributes of interest. The study of mortuary practice has now been expanded to include not only that of human remains and their commemoration. The human reaction to animal deaths—or at least those that are treasured companions—can be marked in similar though not identical ways (Äikäs, chapter 9; Tourigny, chapter 10). This, however, is at an early stage, with few comparative studies and these from a few, possibly atypical, locales.

Bringing New Methods into Above-Ground Mortuary Archaeology An aspect of surveys (Hunter et al., chapter 4) that is not well represented in this volume, but will undoubtedly become a standard component of surface surveying are drones (Campana 2017). The immediate use for drones will be to create photographic records of the burial ground and possibly form the basis for mapping, but they are also excellent for combined management strategies that incorporate vegetation alongside the cultural resource. In Britain, strong regulatory limitations regarding the flight of drones in areas close to domestic housing (where most burial grounds are located) have hindered the application of this technique. New small but stable drones with high-quality photographic capability are now being produced, however, which fall below the regulatory limits. These have enabled recent experimentation with burial ground surveys that have been highly promising, and they could be used by heritage professionals and amateurs alike as drone purchase costs are not high. Remote surveys using drones or satellite imagery have often lagged behind in mortuary studies compared to wider archaeological applications. This delay is because the feature identification in settlement studies is of much larger entities and because the resolution of images has been suitable for walls or ditches, but often has not been sufficient to identify individual burial monuments. However, where this resolution is available, it can be a vital addition to the archaeological armoury. In the case of a survey of St. John’s, Parramatta—the oldest historic British burial ground on mainland Australia—the satellite imagery was sufficient to form the basis

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for a digitized plan. The digitized plan could then be ground-truthed by a single researcher and enable the spatial development of the burial ground to be discerned (Mytum 2020a). If there is considerable tree cover at the burial ground then satellites or drones may be of limited use, but the use of imagery to consider features beyond the human visual spectrum and by differential heat retention may offer alternative possibilities. More complex analyses of memorial materials through on-site investigation, such as by portable, hand-held, and X-Radiation Florescence equipment (Török and Přikryl 2010), are also an exciting new dimension to surveying. The challenges of surface changes to materials need to be overcome, but identifying chemical signatures for particular sources could be possible. Other geological expertise should also be better integrated into projects. Some geologists have considered the rock types used, though usually in regional studies and without detailed sourcing of the quarry sources of the older, locally produced memorials (Dove 1992). By integrating geology specialists, archaeologically more relevant questions could be asked and answered, whether through visual observation of monuments or through scientific analysis. Linked to the cultural aspects of memorials is also the possibility of assessing the lichen colonization of memorials. Burial grounds often provide excellent havens for lichen species (Dobson 2014), with a wide range of material types—and with most monuments not subject to intermittent surface cleaning. In Britain, many burial grounds have been surveyed and the potential is clear, but not yet exploited in multi-disciplinary projects. Lichen growth can also throw light on past management strategies as species vary according to the degree to which they are overgrown, and such studies can help inform the most appropriate ongoing management regimes. The possibilities of 3-D scanning of memorials have been subject to trials but has not been applied as part of a research project. The RTI photography methods discussed in this volume (Mytum, chapter 1) create sophisticated imagery that can be used to identify many subtle features not accessible through traditional photography; but they do not allow the three-dimensional representation of monuments. As with RTI, many surveys would not require this level of detailed study and investment, but there will be cases when this is necessary (Pavlovskis 2020). Surveys using multiple photography are now relatively easy to create with readily available software (Figure 14.1), and they can enable more effective office-based measurement and condition monitoring from a set of images. These can easily be shared with others and so do not require a site visit to enable discussion of the monument. While this might be most appropriate for larger monuments with text and carving on multiple sides, even headstones may have tooling on the edges and back

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that would be worth recording in this way. Other forms of testing are also being developed, including ultrasonic pulse velocity (UPV) testing (Akoglu et al. 2020), and further studies are required to assess their effectiveness and applicability. A

B

C

Figure 14.1. Photogrammetric photography of memorials. A: Agisoft screen during the processing of the images. B: Headstone as viewed from the front and above. C: Headstone from the back. Images created by Francesca Boschetti and Rob Philpott.

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Research Questions Possible through Adoption of Innovatory Methods The developments in field practice discussed in this volume enable practitioners to collect the required standard data more quickly and easily than previously, which applies to both cultural resource management and research purposes. It also, however, enables more data, and data of more kinds, to be collected and available for analysis, which opens up new questions, both site-based and comparative. The creation of “big data” by standardization will offer opportunities as well as present challenges (Huggett 2020). The way in which surface surveys recover memorial data that is partial in a number of understandable ways—erosion and damage is visible, most memorials are visible through surface survey even if some have already been lost—makes this less problematic than, say, settlement data where uneven survey and site identification present greater issues. Memorials are much more complex artefacts than ceramics or lithics, so the “big data” are partly across attributes as well as the number of artefacts surveyed. And yet, there has been relatively little analysis of how these variables relate to each other, and what that might tell us about production, stylistic development, and how the memorials were “read” in all senses by those visiting them. The options for “big data” allow investigation of different scales—temporal and spatial—of patterning, and so explanations at levels that range from the individual right up to global socio-economic forces. Thus far, mortuary archaeology has been limited in the scales of interpretation, though there have already been some hints at the possibilities (Mytum 2004). The application of cloud storage of digital data offers new scales of collaboration in creating “big data.” The management of access and quality controls over contributed data sets require consideration and systems, but the opportunities are considerable. As memorial studies become more widespread, the relationship between above- and below-ground archaeology requires greater attention. Many of the recent large-scale excavations of historic burial grounds have been at sites where most monuments have been cleared or moved, if they ever existed at all. There is a need to collate and consider those examples where the above- and below-ground evidence can be compared and combined. In this way, a more holistic appreciation of past mortuary culture, choices in what aspects to invest in, and any functional, stylistic, and symbolic relationships may be noted within the whole post-death and bereavement processes (Mytum 2018). The greater integration of documentary research, either with academic historians or community groups engaged in local and family history, within burial ground survey, can also open up a more contextualized approach. The origins and development of a burial ground are situated in a network

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Figure 14.2. Biography of a memorial. Inscriptional events on memorial erected by Patrick Flanagan at Monasterboice, Co. Meath. Image created by Harold Mytum and Richard Veit.

of social, economic, cultural, and ideological forces that affect its location, size, design, and content. Moreover, all the memorials and landscape features within the landscape were the product of individual and familial choices, balanced within wider cultural and local management constraints. Only documentary research will enable these to be appreciated and explored. While archaeology alone can identify large-scale trends, and some localized features, the historical context combined with the material evidence can provide explanations that are richer, more subtle and nuanced, and more powerful both academically and for community use. Indeed, the materiality of family plots and relationships, and family and memorial biographies (Figure 14.2) deserve greater attention (Mytum 2003).

Using Innovation in Historic Mortuary Archaeology for Public and Management Benefit Public interpretation of burial grounds is under-developed, yet the methods discussed in this volume reveal the rich complexity of evidence that can be employed in both management and public interpretation. The

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dissemination of survey results and interpretations is demonstrated in this volume through the development of a cemetery friends web site where the integration of archaeological, material, evidence is ongoing, but this is a rarity. Archaeologists should promote interpretation and appreciation of historic burial places beyond the biographies of those interred there (Mytum 2007), to make use of the material dimension that the landscape and monuments provide. This can be disseminated both through the web (Fairley, chapter 13) and by interpretation on the sites themselves. Research into how the public can engage with the material aspects of burial grounds is urgently needed, as the above-ground archaeological dimension is rarely appreciated by even the stakeholders, let alone casual visitors. The biographical approach links to names on memorials but not to anything else experienced by the visitor. In contrast, discussion of monument materials, forms, and iconography, and the character and development of the mortuary landscape, are all experienced by the visitor. The archaeologist is uniquely able to draw together all of these strands to reveal the rich cultural significance of these special places. An interactive, collaborative approach to survey and management is discussed in this volume, but needs more contextualized studies like this, and ones that take this collaboration to its interpretive potential. The comparison of surveys over time can inform management as well as enhance understanding of the materials of the memorials. Repeat dated surveys can identify memorials at risk and patterns of degradation (Giesecke and Steffen, chapter 5). Detailed surveys of monuments, particularly photographic surveys supported by other information, can enable the design of conservation programs that can prioritize those that most urgently require attention. Surveys can also identify the historic landscape design of the burial ground, and they help to inform management of the plantings and feed into the replacement of vegetation, as this is a particularly dynamic aspect of the cemetery landscape. Surveys that also identify unmarked interments and lost components, such as demolished cemetery chapels or abandoned pathways, can inform future management and conservation plans, even if reinstatement of many of these features would not be a high priority. Burial grounds often constitute islands of ecological significance in a sea of urban or industrial agricultural land use (Löki et al. 2019). The combination of cultural and natural value makes these particularly important locales, and archaeologists in heritage management should collaborate more often with ecological conservation professionals. At times, the two priorities might not coincide—vegetation growth may be damaging memorials, for example—but more often the social value of the site, and so the improved possibility of preservation and positive management, comes from drawing together the combined values of such locations.

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Burial grounds may still be in use and thus have contemporary social value, and others may have some zones in use but historic areas that are now full. Other burial grounds—from family plots to community cemeteries—may be abandoned and neglected. Survey is often a prerequisite to reveal the heritage significance of such sites, and while this may happen as part of a mitigation prior to destruction, proactive surveys to identify and evaluate sites so that threats can be avoided should be undertaken wherever possible. Here, combining community involvement and action with heritage professional support at all stages (Timo, chapter 8) can create a knowledge base that can help protect these precious resources for the future. Burial grounds, their monuments, and data sets from recording projects can be valuable pedagogic resources. These can range through the whole age and ability range, and resources should be developed for the relevant educational systems. Just as the DAACS data base can be used for undergraduate training (Agbe-Davies et al. 2014), the system discussed by Mytum (Chapter 6) can be applied to field training and analysis. For example, the collection, entry, and analysis of new data forms part of Liverpool archaeology undergraduate training (Figure 14.3A). This combines fieldwork, computer literacy, and small-scale project management, and it has been used in Athens, GA. (Figure 14.3B). Schools’ usage has also been attempted (Dix and Smart 1981), though not always necessarily with an archaeologically informed perspective (Atwood 1998; Groce et

Figure 14.3. Student recording as part of undergraduate training. Left: University of Liverpool students at Toxteth Park Cemetery, Liverpool. Right: University of Georgia, Athens students at Old Athens Cemetery, Athens, GA. Images created by Harold Mytum, Richard Veit, and Jennifer Birch.

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al. 2013). Resources for the Young Archaeologists Club are now available online (Mytum 2020b, c) and are linked to the DEBS system, and the data collected can be integrated into the archiving system with limited modification. While designed primarily for Britain and Ireland, they can be easily adapted to other contexts. Plans are under way to adapt these resources for use in schools to complement their curricula.

Harold Mytum is Professor of Archaeology, University of Liverpool. He was previously head of the Department of Archaeology, University of York, and served as president of the Society for Post-medieval Archaeology. His research interests include investigating identity and memory through settlement and mortuary evidence (seventeenth to twentieth centuries). He has led archaeological projects recording graveyards and their monuments over forty years. Harold has published widely in journals on historic mortuary archaeology, and three of his fourteen authored or co-edited books were on this topic. Richard Veit is a Professor of Anthropology and Interim Dean of the Wayne D. McMurray School of Humanities and Social Sciences at Monmouth University. At Monmouth, he teaches courses on historical archaeology, North American archaeology, cultural resource management, and local history. His research interests include gravestones and burial grounds, early American material culture, vernacular architecture, and conflict archaeology. He has authored/co-authored, or edited eight books and numerous articles. His PhD is from the University of Pennsylvania.

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Bennett, T., and P. Joyce, eds. 2013. Material Powers: Cultural Studies, History and the Material Turn. London: Routledge. Campana, S. 2017. “Drones in Archaeology: State-of-the-Art and Future Perspectives.” Archaeological Prospection 24(4): 2752–2796. Dick, H. C., J. K Pringle, K. D. Wisniewski, J. Goodwin, R. van der Putten, G. T. Evans, J. D. Francis, J. P. Cassella, and J. D. Hansen. 2017. “Determining Geophysical Responses from Burials in Graveyards and Cemeteries.” Geophysics 82(6): B245–B255. Dix B., and R. Smart. 1981 “Down among the Deadmen: Graveyard Surveys as an Additional Source of Material for Local Studies.” Teaching History 1(30): 3–7. Dobson, F. S. 2014. A Field Key to Common Churchyard Lichens. 4th ed. F. S. Dobson. Dove, J. 1992. “A Comparison of Gravestones in Two Country Churchyards.” Proceedings of the Geologists’ Association 103(2): 1431–1454. Gabov, A., and G. Bevan. 2011. “Recording the Weathering of Outdoor Stone Monuments Using Reflectance Transformation Imaging (RTI): The Case of the Guild of All Arts (Scarborough, Ontario).” Journal of the Canadian Association for Conservation 36: 31–34. Green, H. 2012. “Cultural History and the Material (S) Turn.” Cultural History 1(1): 618–622. Groce, E., R. Wilson, and L. Poling. 2013. “‘Tomb It May Concern’: Visit Your Local Cemetery for a Multidisciplinary (and Economical) Field Trip.” Social Studies and the Young Learner 25(3): 131–137. Hansen, J. D., J. K. Pringle, and J. Goodwin. 2014. “GPR and Bulk Ground Resistivity Surveys in Graveyards: Locating Unmarked Burials in Contrasting Soil Types.” Forensic Science International 237: e14–e29. Huggett, J. 2020. “Is Big Digital Data Different? Towards a New Archaeological Paradigm.” Journal of Field Archaeology 45 (sup1): S8–S17. Löki, V., B. Deák, A. B. Lukács, and A. Molnár. 2019. “Biodiversity Potential of Burial Places–a Review on the Flora and Fauna of Cemeteries and Churchyards.” Global Ecology and Conservation 18: p.e00614. Mytum, H. 2003. “Artefact Biography as an Approach to Material Culture: Irish Gravestones as a Material Form of Genealogy.” The Journal of Irish Archaeology 12/13: 1111–1127. ———. 2004. Mortuary Monuments and Burial Grounds of the Historic Period. New York: Kluwer/Plenum and Springer. ———. 2007. “Beyond Famous Men and Women: Interpreting Historic Burial Grounds and Cemeteries.” In Past Meets Present: Archaeologists Partnering with Museum Curators, Teachers, and Community Groups, ed. J. H. Jameson and S. Baugher, 4114–4126. New York: Springer. ———. 2018. “Explaining Stylistic Change in Mortuary Material Culture: The Dynamic of Power Relations between the Bereaved and the Undertaker.” In Death Across Oceans. Archaeology of Coffins and Vaults in Britain, America and Australia, ed. H. Mytum and L. E. Burgess, 759–753. Washington, DC: Smithsonian Institution Scholarly Press. ———. 2020a. “Commemoration and Improvement: Parramatta St John’s Cemetery, New South Wales in its Context 1788—c. 1840.” The Antiquaries Journal 100: 374–407. ———. 2020b. Burial Ground Recording Projects Guidance for YAC Leaders. York: Young Archaeologists Club and the Council for British Archaeology. Retrieved

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11 November 2021 from https://www.yac-uk.org/userfiles/file/1601307782_ Burial_Ground_Activities_YAC_Leader_Guidance.pdf. ———. 2020c. Burial Ground Activities for Families and Youth Groups. Getting Outdoors with Young People. York: Young Archaeologists Club and the Council for British Archaeology. Retrieved 11 November 2021 from https://www.yac-uk .org/userfiles/file/1601307292_Burial_Ground_Activities_for_Families_and_ Youth_Groups.pdf Pavlovskis, M., M. Chizhova, J. Hindmarch, and M. Hess. 2020. “Application of Multi-Criteria Decision Making for the Selection of Sensing Tools for Historical Gravestones.” The International Archives of Photogrammetry, Remote Sensing and Spatial Information Sciences 43: 14351–442. Török, Á., and R. Přikryl. 2010. “Current Methods and Future Trends in Testing, Durability Analyses and Provenance Studies of Natural Stones Used in Historical Monuments.” Engineering Geology 115(3–4): 1391–1342.

Index

AAHC (African American Heritage Commission), 145–47, 149–50 Achill Island, 22 ADS (Archaeology Data Service), 5, 17, 119, 194, 196–97, 201, 205– 206, 209–10, 227 African American, 4, 122, 144–49 Agisoft Metashape, 75 All Saints’ Day, 16, 168 American Revolution, 45, 47 Andrew W. Mellon Foundation, 100 Android, 5, 201, 213, 215–16, 220–21, 225, 227–31, 233–34 Anglo-Indian, 124, 128, 134, 140, 256 app, 200–203, 208, 225–28, 231, 239 ArcGIS, 70, 75–76, 78–79 Archaeological Survey of India, 126–27 archive, 3, 5, 11, 100, 106, 115, 162, 193, 196–98, 200, 205–208 Asheville, 147–49 Association for Gravestone Studies, 89 Australia, 7, 26, 105–107, 116–19 Austrians, 37 Balrothery, 18–19 Bengal, 123–26 Biddleville, 144–45 BillionGraves, 196, 238 Blue Cross, 308, 138–41 Board of Health, 37 Britain, 4, 7, 12, 106, 109, 116, 118, 123, 136, 138, 173–74, 176, 179, 181, 237, 240, 248, 258–59

BSRD (Burial Spaces Research Database), 194, 196–97, 199, 201, 203–206, 208 Buncombe County, 148 Calcutta, 124–26, 139 Cambridge Family History Society, 242 CBA (Council for British Archaeology), 105–107 Cemetery Conservators for United Standards, 87 Center for Digital Antiquity, 85, 100–101 CGIS (cemetery-specific geographic information system), 64, 69, 72, 75–80 Charleston, South Carolina, 31 Charlotte, North Carolina, 144–45 Christmas: decorations, 14, 16; celebrations, 164, 168–69 Church Heritage Record, 199 Church of England, 195, 199, 244 Civil War battlefields, 53 classical, 124, 128, 131, 133–34, 136–37, 140, 179 Collon, 22–23, 26 County Poor Farm Burial site, 40 COVID-19, 1, 6, 256 CRM. See cultural resource management CSA (Cemetery Surveyor Application), 5, 219–20, 222–228, 230, 23–34 CSA, file extension, 218

Index

cultural resource management, 3, 16, 44–46, 59–60, 88, 99, 255–56, 261 DEBS (Discovering England’s Burial Spaces), 5, 107, 194–96, 198, 200, 203–208, 226–28, 233, 238, 257, 265 Department of Transportation, 45–46 Dethlefsen, Edwin, 2, 12, 88 digital archiving, 107, 194, 208 digital data, 193–94, 196, 261 digital elevation model (DEM), 75, 80 digital photographs, photography, 12, 15, 17–18, 104, 112, 183, 185 digital recording, 5–6, 70, 200 digitizing, 85, 200, 206–207, 221 documentation, 53, 63–64, 66, 68–70, 72–75, 78–80, 101, 112, 116 DOI (Digital Object Identifier number), 100, 197–98 Drew University, 70 drone, 3, 66, 70, 75, 79–80, 258 East India Company, 125–36, 128, 137–39 Egyptian revival, 124, 136 Eino horse burial site, Finland, 157 Elbridge Rural Cemetery (ERC), New York, 3, 45–50, 52–57, 59 Elizabeth City, North Carolina, 147–49 England, 107, 119, 125, 138–39, 175, 194–95, 198–99 Erie Canal, 46 Excel, 70, 79, 110, 214, 224, 249 family history, 103–104, 107, 206, 238, 240, 242, 261 family plot, plots, 33–35, 48, 51–53, 70, 72–76, 80, 109, 262, 264 Find A Grave, 98, 196, 238–40 Finland, 4, 152–55, 157–58, 163–64, 168 Finnhorse, 153–54, 157–58 French Cemetery, Kolkata, 132 genealogical, 5, 45, 52–53, 59, 79, 85, 88, 99, 127, 238–39, 241, 243–44

269

georectification, 75 Germany, 39, 213 Gibraltar, 117–18 Gillespie Shell Loading Company, 36 GIS (Geographic Information Systems), 60, 68–69, 78, 80, 162, 175, 215–16, 225, 228, 241, 257 GitHub, 219, 221, 226, 230 Google Analytics, 250 Google Apps, 203, 205 Google My Maps, 249 Google Spreadsheets, 203 GPR (ground penetrating radar), 34, 40, 45, 55–59, 68, 80, 145, 257 GPS, 91, 163, 175, 212, 238–39 Gravestone Photographic Resource, 238–39 Greek, 124, 133, 140 Gumpus Hill, New Hampshire, 85–86, 90–92, 94 Harris matrix, 104 Helsinki, Finland, 153 Herculaneum, Italy, 122 hierarchical (data structure), 4, 105, 110–14, 218, 223, 225 Hindu, 124, 128, 131, 134, 138–40 Historic England, 106–107, 198, 208, 227, 237–38 Historic Graves, 196, 240 historic preservation, 86–88, 147–49 horses, 97, 152–55, 157–59, 161, 163–66, 168–69 Horsley Archaeological Prospection, 34–35 H-RTI, 13 Hungarian, Hungarians, Hungary, 32, 37, 39 Hyde Park, London, 174–75, 177–79, 181 IHS, 22, 24 Ilford, Essex, pet cemetery, 176 Ilkka, horse burial site, Finland, 157 influenza, 30–31, 34, 36–41 inscriptional events, 116, 262 Ireland, 4, 12, 20, 22, 39, 103, 116, 118, 196, 240

270

Italians, 64 Italy, 3 James Deetz, 2, 12, 88 Jesmond Old Cemetery, Newcastle upon Tyne, 243 JSON (JavaScript Object Notation), 218–21, 223, 226–28, 233 Keskuspuisto, horse burial site, Finland, 153 Killeen, 22, 25 Kirppu, horse burial site, Finland, 155, 157 Kolkata, India, 122–24, 127–28 legacy data, 5, 205–206, 257 Leppavirta, horse burial site, Finland, 157, 168 lettering, 11, 24, 99, 115, 130, 179, 186 Lithuanians, 37 Liverpool Necropolis, 237, 244, 248 Llangar, Wales, 106 Logan Township, New Jersey, 64–67 Luxembourg, 5–6, 212–13, 232 Manchester General Cemetery, 243 mausoleums, mausolea, 114, 126–27, 134, 136–37, 177 Mikonkangas, horse burial site, Finland, 4, 153, 161–65, 168 Mill Road Cemetery, Cambridge, 242 Mount Auburn Cemetery, Boston, 241 Mount Zion Methodist Cemetery, Cape May, New Jersey, 65, 69, 73 Mughal, 123–25, 131–32, 135–36, 139–40 National Biodiversity Network Atlas, England, 199 National Federation of Cemetery Friends (NFCF), 240, 242–43 National Lottery Heritage Fund, UK, 238 National Park Service, USA, 87 National Register of Historic Places, USA, 87

Index

National Science Foundation, 100 New Bern, North Carolina, 147–48 New Brunswick, New Jersey, 37 New England, 1, 11–12, 85–86, 88–89, 93, 95–96, 99, 131, 138 New Hampshire, 85–88, 90–94, 99–101 New Jersey, 2–3, 30–31, 36, 63–67, 70, 75, 130–31 New South Wales, Australia, 105 New York State Museum, 56 NFCF. See National Federation of Cemetery Friends North Carolina, 4, 118, 145, 147–48, 150 North Park Street Cemetery, Kolkota, India, 126 Northwood Cemetery, Cowes, 242 OASIS, 194, 198–99, 205, 227, 233 obelisk, 72, 87, 122, 129, 131–32, 135–36, 138, 179 OCR, 233 oral history, traditions, 2, 30, 36, 40, 153 OSA (North Carolina Office of State Archaeology), 144–45, 147, 150 PDSA (People’s Dispensary for Sick Animals), 176, 178, 179 pedestrian survey, 44–46, 50, 52, 55, 59–60 Pembrokeshire, Wales, 106, 117 pet cemeteries, 5, 7, 9, 11, 270, 271, 284, 286, 288, 290, 292, 302, 304, 306, 308, 310, 312, 314, 315, 317, 318, 319, 321 pet cemetery, cemeteries, 152–53, 161–65, 172–82, 184, 186 Phase I survey methods (USA), 44–47, 49, 59 Philip Rahtz, 105 Phnom Penh, Cambodia, 212, 215 photography, 1–2, 7, 11–15, 24, 26–27, 64, 69–70, 74–75, 79–80, 115, 131, 213, 233, 259–60 Pompeii, Italy, 122 PTM Fitter, 17

Index

271

pyramid, pyramids, 124, 128, 132, 136–38

students, 1, 4, 88, 96, 105, 116, 149, 157, 226, 264

Qualtrics, 202–204

Taivalkoski, horse burial site, Finland, 157 Taj Mahal, India, 123 tDAR (Digital Archaeology Record), 100–101 Termonfeckin, Ireland, 20–21 TerraGo, 76, 78 Thornton Hill, New Hampshire, 86–87, 93 Tomb of Humayan, India, 123 transcriptions, 103–104 Turkey Hill, New Hampshire, 85–86 typology, 105, 114, 117, 131, 136, 176, 196, 201, 205–206, 219, 223, 232

RADAN 7 software, 57 rapid survey, 3, 123, 131, 212 recording system, 4–5, 89, 103, 105–107, 114, 116, 118–19, 194, 196, 201, 204–205, 228, 257 Red Cross, 38 Register of Historic Parks and Gardens, England, 246 Revolutionary War, 47 Roman, architectural style, 112, 124, 136, 140 Roman Catholic, 22, 112 Rookwood Cemetery, Sydney, Australia, 118–19 RTI (Reflectance Transformation Imaging), 2, 11, 13–18, 20, 22, 24, 26, 68, 259 RTIBuilder, 17 RTIViewer, 17–19, 26 rubbings, 12, 52, 91–92 Rural Cemetery Movement, 31 Ruskeasuo, pet cemetery, Finland, 153 Russian, Russians, 32, 37, 39 Scotland, 103, 138 Scottish Cemetery, Kolkata, India, 132 Sopusointu, horse burial site, Finland, 155, 157 South Asheville Cemetery Association, 148 South Park Street Cemetery, Kolkata, India, 132, 135–40 South River, New Jersey, 2, 30–41 South River Historical and Preservation Society, 30, 33–34, 40 Springfield Emanuel United Methodist Cemetery, 65 St. James’ Cemetery, 237, 244–252

UAV Unmanned Aerial Vehicle). See drone United Methodist Church, 63, 65, 70, 79 Volunteers, 116, 148, 158, 207, 226, 230, 239–40 V-RTI, 13 Walferdange, Luxembourg, 213, 215, 232 walkover survey, 51–55 Washington Monumental Cemetery, 2, 30–35, 39–41 WCA, 231, 234 website, 238, 240–41, 243, 249–52 Whitesville Methodist Cemetery, New Jersey, 65, 69, 73 Windsor United Methodist Cemetery, New Jersey, 65, 69 Woodgrange Park Cemetery, London, 243 York Cemetery, England, 243 Ypaja Equine College, Finland, 154, 157