C E I E T E R I

CYPRESS HILL

J

OFFICES AND AGENCIES.
R. G. NELLIS, 262 Broadway, New York.
ALDERMAN GEO. HALL, 307 Fulton St., Brooklyn.
DR.. MILLER, cor. 4th and South 6th Sts., Williamsburgh..
JOHN KENDRICK, Keeper and Sexton of the Grounds
$5» All Sextons, of New York, Brooklyn, and Williamsburgh, are
authorized to sell Lots and arrange burials in this Cemetery.

$$> An EXTRA TRAIN OB' CARS from South Brooklyn
will, on AMY DAY and at ANY HOUR, take Processions to
Gypress Hills and back, carrying 40 Persons for the small sum
of $10— and any extra number of Persons at the same rate,
Thus a great saving in time and expense is effected.

/'^/^ctj rf. ^- '^'^

i

BROOKLYN &. JAMAICA TURNPIKE

THE

CEMETERY

OF THE

CYPRESS HILLS.

FOURTH EDITION

PUBLISHED FROM THE ROOMS OF THE CEMETERY, 362 BROADWAY.

NEW YORK :
S. W. BENEDICT, PRINTER, 16 SPRUCE STREET.
1£49.

ORGANIZATION.

During the last summer an Association was formed for the
purpose of founding, in the neighborhood of New York, a new
Cemetery, which might furnish extraordinary facilities for the
vast and rapidly increasing population of this region.
In presenting to the public a history of this Institution, and
the conditions of its organization, the Trustees have deemed it
necessary to furnish their fellow-citizens with the following
information. i
In compliance with the wants of modern society, and the
progress of public taste in our great Commonwealth, the Legis
lature of 1847, at the instance of many intelligent and public-
spirited men, enacted a general law, conferring upon voluntary
Associations the right of establishing Rural Cemeteries through
out the State.
This law, which in its workings has been found to answer
most fully all the purposes for which it was intended, was the
fruit of great judicial wisdom and enlightened liberality. By
its provisions, large, generous, and valuable immunities are
guarantied to Cemetery Associations for ever. The resting-
places of the dead are exempted from execution for debt and
from taxation, and the shield of the State throws its broad pro
tection over the graves of its citizens.
Every requisition and condition of this general law has been
scrupulously complied with, and adhered to, in the organization
of the Cypress Hills Cemetery.
The following gentlemen have been appointed Officers and

Trustees, with full power to conduct the business of the Asso
ciation : TRUSTEES.
CALEB S. WOODHULL, of New York, President.
Abraham H. Van Wyck, do. Vice-President
Luther R. Marsh, do.
Charles Miller, M.D., Williamsburgh.
C. Edwards Lester, Brooklyn.
Abner Chichester, of New York, Treasurer,
do. Secretary. -
R. G. Nellis, General Agent. Office, 262 B'dway, N. Y.
Alderman George Hall, Agent for King's County, Long
Island, 307 Fulton St., Brooklyn, opposite City Hall.
John Kendrick, Keeper and Sexton of the Grounds.

All the Sextons of New York, Brooklyn, and Williamsburgh,
and the neighborhood, are authorized to sell lots and arrange burials for
the Cemetery.

THE CEMETERY.

ITS LOCATION, etc.
In choosing a spot for the Cemetery, the greatest care and
precaution were taken. The Association felt the necessity of
accomplishing the following objects, to wit :
1. To procure ground at such a rate, as to be able to afford
lots at a price that would exclude no one from participating
in the advantages that have hitherto been enjoyed only by
incurring large expense.
2. To locate the Cemetery far enough from a busy population
to secure solitude and seclusion, that no probable extension of
our cities might ever disturb the sacredness and repose of the
resting-place of the dead.
3. That the tract. of land thus dedicated might be large
enough to accommodate a great population, for many genera
tions, and furnish ample room for wide and extensive roads,
paths, and avenues, to embellish the scene that will be hal
lowed by so many tender recollections.
4. To find a spot which nature would seem to have designed
for such a purpose — combining every variety of lake, lawn,
forest, hill, and dale, that by the hand of taste and labor might,
at a moderate expense, be beautifully embellished.
These objects were fully accomplished in the location which
was finally fixed on. The Cypress Hills' Cemetery lies on the
north side of the Brooklyn and Jamaica turnpike, four miles

6
from Williamsburgh, and five from Brooklyn. Three hundred
acres are now being laid out, and when it becomes necessary
the grounds may be extended ; since by a recent statute of
the Legislature, this Cemetery can hold five hundred acres of
ground, which makes it the largest Cemetery in the world.
No spot in the vicinity of New York embraces a greater
variety of landscape, or a grander or more picturesque view.
The Cemetery faces the south. The front (30 acres) is a lawn,
gradually rising up to a high range of hills, from which the
entire grounds of the Cemetery are visible, with the exception
of dells, and secluded spots, which are hidden by forests and
shrubbery, or intervening undulations and hills. From this
point 'the view is very extensive and magnificent. Away to
the south stretches the broad Atlantic, bounded only by the
horizon, and every vessel approaching the coast comes within
the view. On the south-west stands Neversink, at whose base
homeward and outward-bound fleets cluster, in entering and
leaving the Narrows, — and beyond it are seen the hills and
plains of New Jersey. On the west lies Brooklyn, with its
numerous spires ; to the north-west, New York, with the
Bay and the Hudson, crowned by the Palisades relieved against
the sky. Williamsburgh is visible, with the East River, to the
north, and the hills of Connecticut bound the view on the
north-east. Jamaica lies to the eastward, and far down the
island spread rich fields, forests, and hills. Within this wide
sweep of horizon, which embraces a circle of immense extent.
one of the finest scenes on the continent is embraced ; and from
the top of the monument to General Woodhull and the Mar
tyrs of the Prison-Ships, to be erected on the highest point of
the Cemetery, the most extensive view in the country will be
visible. The internal scenery of the Cemetery is not less striking.
It is variegated by every alternation of surface. In laying out
the carriage roads to develop the beauty of the landscape from
every point, they extend about 40 miles. They climb every
hill, and descend into almost every valley. They wind along

the shores of several wild cold spring lakes (which, on an at
tempt to drain, have been found to be perennial), which are
entirely surrounded by the most beautiful shrubbery and trees,
and these lakes rest upon bottoms of variegated gravel,
now covered by beds of rich loam. About one-half of the
ground is covered by a heavy forest, and the rest is made up
of a luxuriant undergrowth of all the forest trees of Long
Island, and green rich fields, on which several thousand choice
nursery trees are being set out, to line the roads dnd avenues, — ¦
thus furnishing, in the wild luxuriance of nature and the chaste
embellishments of art, the blended beauties that are sought for
in wild scenery and landscape gardening.
By consulting the accompanying map, and- visiting the
grounds with it for a guide, the visitor will perceive that the
roads have been laid out to suit the scenery. Beyond the front
lawn, the ways are all irregular, to conform to the surface, and
they are not made so merely to have them winding. There are
three great arteries that shoot through the Cemetery. The
Lake Road, and the Valley Road, which wind around every
lake and thread every valley, showing all the internal scenery,
— and the Highland Way, which sweeps along the hills, and
commands the ocean and the distant landscape, and looks down
upon the Lake and Valley Roads lying below.
Such are these grounds as they were made by nature,
changed by a few months' labor. It is easy to imagine, on
visiting them, what they will become when they shall have
been clothed with the embellishments of art.
The most accomplished artists, have been employed for this
purpose, and no reasonable expense will be spared in embel
lishing the place. It is the design of the Trustees to blend the
beauties of a Cemetery with an extensive landscape garden, in
which every appropriate shrub, tree, and flower, that can grow
in our climate; may be brought to, perfection, and a large quan
tity of the richest evergreens will render the grounds cheerful
even after the frost has stripped them of their foliage.

ADVANTAGES OF THIS CEMETERY.
Facilities of Access, fyc.
In the establishment of the Cypress Hills, particular refer
ence was had to the necessities and accommodation of eccle
siastical, benevolent, social, and humane Societies. A large
number of these associations have already located their grounds
here, and others are continually applying. In a short time,
the Cypress Hills will present what has, it is believed, nevei
before existed — a fraternal cluster of cemeteries, surrounded
by one common enclosure, where every church and society
may consecrate its own, grounds according to their ideas of
duty or feeling,. and embellish them as their, own means or taste
may dictate. ' Such organizations have already perceived that
it is far more economical for them to purchase grounds in
such a Cemetery, than to incur the necessarily large expense
of starting and keeping up distinct and separate places of
burial. Here they are saved all expenses of incorporation,
roads, and avenues ; of entrances, lodges, chapels, and receiv
ing vaults ; of office rent, trustees, treasurers, secretaries ; and
ofthe perpetual outlays for keepers of the grounds, gardeners,
artists, and embellishments. By a moment's calculation any
one may convince himself that the incidental, but unavoidable
expenses of a separate burial ground, for a church society,
would soon far exceed the cost of purchasing a tract at the
Cypress Hills large enough for any social or religious organ
ization for a long time to come. Any private burial place,
too, is not only deprived of the great advantages of a large
and magnificently-embellished cemetery; but, being smaller,
is regarded with less attention and respect, and is more likely
to suffer in the convulsions and changes of society, and at last.
be sacrificed to the " public good," which will be almost sure,

in the end, to invade its sacredness, and even excavate it?
tombs and scatter their ashes. But in public cemeteries,
where all classes, associations, and interests of society, are fully
represented, a common enclosure is a common defence : and
the time is not likely ever to come, when one or more
generations have hallowed the ground of such a spot, that its
sacredness and repose would ever be disturbed.
Although under the privileges of our incorporation we might
have located our Cemetery nearer to Brooklyn, yet we did not
feel that we could do so with safety, for the rapid growth of
that city has already outstripped all former calculations.
Cypress Hills is located less than two miles beyond the eastern
line of the Corporation of Brooklyn ; aud it is considerably
nearer the centre of population, and the centre of New York
City itself, than Greenwood, which is now felt to be quite near
enough to our busy cities. Plank roads, which are now project
ed between Jamaica, Brooklyn, and Williamsburgh, will render
Cypress Hills really the most accessible Cemetery to the im
mense population of New York.
Cypress Hills is as accessible now as could reasonably be de
sired. The Long Island Railroad passes the front of the Ceme
tery at a distance of only eighty rods. An avenue leads up
to the entrance of the grounds from the station, where all the
trains have their regular stopping place; The president and
directors of this road have offered the trustees every facility
with the most liberal spirit. A car will be constructed express
ly for funeral processions ; and, in fifteen minutes from the time
of leaving the Brooklyn depot, the procession is at the Ceme
tery. The expense of passage in all funeral proeessions- has
been reduced by the directors so low, that almost any number
of friends may attend the dust of their departed to its final
repose, at a merely nominal expense, and without a serious
sacrifice of time.
As soon as the train arrives at the " Cypress Hills Station,"
the funeral car is detached, and the train goes on. The Ceme
tery hearse is always at the station ; and every procession will
2

10
nave the attention of an experienced, intelligent, and gentle
manly man, to render every service which necessity or affec
tion may require.
The Receiving Tomb is constructed of stone and iron, with
every possible convenience, and its use for thirty days may
be had gratuitously, by all persons burying at the Cypress
Hills. A Greek arch, surmounted by a statue of Faith, and sup
ported by- two beautiful Lodges, forms the entrance, affording
accommodations to visitors and processions. In a short time,
a Chapel will be erected near the same spot.
Lines of stages now pass the Cemetery regularly several
times a day. New ones will be established to start every
hour for and from Brooklyn and Williamsburgh.
The distance from Williamsburgh ferry is four miles ; and
the whole of the central, eastern, and upper portions of New
York will find it exceedingly convenient to take the Houston
and Grand-street Ferries, and they will thus, over the fine road
from Williamsburgh, reach Cypress Hills with as much ease
and in as short a time as could be desired.
Prices of Lots, Graves, tyc.
On any of the xgrounds now laid out, all ecclesiastical,
benevolent, social, and humane societies and associations, who
take not less than ten lots together, half on the paths and half
on the avenues, will have them for the low price of $30 ; for
four lots, $32 50 each ; and all lots contain 400 superficial feet,
being generally "16 by 25.
For any number of lots less than four, $35 each for those
on the paths, and $50 for those on the roads and avenues.
If lots larger than four hundred feet are taken, the price will
correspond with the surplus in proportion. The conditions of
our incorporation require, that after the grounds are paid for,
all receipts be devoted to embellishing and preserving them
for ever.
The Trustees have thought that the prices they have fixed

11
for lots are as low as the interests of the lot-holders would
warrant ; for all who own lots are concerned in having the
grounds embellished with taste and liberality. What is for
the interest of the mutual lot-owners is the main object kept
in view. These are the prices till the 1st of May next, when,
in consequence of the great expense incurred, there must ne
cessarily ba an advance. Every lot-owner is entitled to a vote
in the election of Trustees, and may thus take care of his own
interests. The Trustees, in view of the enormous expense which now
attends burials, and which is proving ruinous to many of the
laboring classes, are desirous of reducing this expense as much
as possible, that all persons may have an honorable interment
in beautiful grounds, although their means may be small. They
will also, put it in the power of all the benevolent and humane
societies, — which have become the ornaments of this country,
doing more to alleviate want and suffering than governments,
hospitals, and asylums ever did, — to bury with the hand of
charity the unfortunate and the poor, as honorably as any
member of society may procure. Many societies and associa
tions,' clergymen of every denomination, sextons, and others,
have been consulted, and we have found that in this humane
endeavor we shalt meet with the most cordial aid.
After careful examination it has been ascertained that the
following facilities can be rendered for prices specified :
For opening and closing a grave, the attendance of sex
ton on the grounds, use of hearse from railway, &c $2 50
(For children, 50 cents less).
Same services, without the hearse . . . . 2 00
For children  1 50
For ground for a single grave, including thirty-two su
perficial feet (with a warrantee certificate of same),
with the opening aud closing of grave, use of hearse,
and attendance of sexton  6 00
For children  4 00

and if, after satisfactory experiment, even these charges can be
reduced, they will be.
All persons who bury in the Cypress Hills can have the use
of the Receiving Tomb, at the Cemetery, thirty days, without
any charge. \
Receiving Vaults can be had for temporary interments, in
New York City, Brooklyn, and Williamsburgh, by applying to
any sexton or undertaker bf those cities.
One of the most convenient and pleasant spots in the- Ceme
tery has been devoted to a public Burial Ground, and notices
for, interments there should be left at one of the three public
offices of the Cemetery, viz. : —
262 Broadway, .... New York ;
307 Fulton street, .... Brooklyn ;
Dr. Miller, cor. 4th and South 6th streets, Williamsburgh ;
or with the Sexton on the Grounds.

THE DEDICATION.

On the 21st of November, 1848, the grounds of the Cypress Hill?
were dedicated, in the presence of a great assembly, to the. burial
of the dead.
The exercises were performed on the ground, under the direction
of the Reverend George Peck, D.D., of New York, assisted by
other learned and eminent clergymen of various denominations, who,
with one common^ sentiment of Veneration and Hope, joined har
moniously in the solemn ceremony.
Sacred Anthems were sung , by the American Musical, Institute.
The Introductory Address was delivered by the Reverend Dr.
Dowling :
Friends and Fellow-Citizens: — The object for which we are as
sembled here to-day is, as expressed in the programme, " The De
dication of the Cypress Hills Cemetery." Henceforth these retired
and beautiful grounds are to be set apart, or devoted, to a solemn
and sacred purpose — a Cemetery* or sleeping-place, as the word
beautifully signifies, for the remains of the departed. From this
hour, henceforward, these hills and groves are to be devoted to no
common purpose ; they are sacred to the repose of the dead.
Various are the modes which in different ages and nations have
been adopted to dispose of the remains of the dead. The Hindoos
and other nations, without any clear idea of such a doctrine as the
resurrection, regarded the body as a clog upon the spiritual part of
our nature — a shell which the spirit was to burst before it could
take wing. No wonder that such should resort to the practice xA
cremation,' or burning to ashes upon the funeral pile. It is a sin-
The following note on this word has been furnished by Dr. Dowling : —
The word Cemetery is derived from the Greek KOIMHTHPION— o deeping
place ; and this from KOIMAOMAI, to sleep. This designation was applied to
burying-places, by Christians, at a very early period. The reason is thus ex
plained by the eloquent Chrysostom, in the fourth century : " Am tovtokui amog
b toitos KOIMHTHPION wi/opatrrat, ha fxaOns otl ol t£t£\svtt]kot€S Kat tvravBa KUfisvot
ov rtBvrwaujiv, aXla KOIMSNTAI." "For this reason, the place is called a
Cemetery, in order that you may. learn that those who have finished their
course, and are laid there, are not dead, but sleep."

14
gular fact, that one of the last, instances, in any Christian country,
of this mode of disposing of the dead, was the case of a gentleman
intimately connected with our history as a nation. Henry Laurens,
first President of the American Congress, desired in his -will that his
body might be burned to ashes ; *nd required from his children, as
a sacred duty, the performance of his dying request. The reason
of this singular request was partly some peculiar notions that he
had imbibed relative to the purifying influence of fire ; and partly
the fact that one of his daughters, when an infant, had been laid
out as dead, but was revived by the fresh air, which, during her
sickness, had been carefully excluded from the apartment.
The Egyptians, supposing that when the great cycle of ages was
complete, the soul would return to re-animate its deserted body,
took the most extraordinary, and frequently expensive measures, to
preserve the earthly tenement in good repair. In the process of
embalming, they removed, of course, the brains and intestines ; and
the question does not appear to have occurred to them, how the
soul, on its return to its long deserted habitation, could be accommo
dated without these important organs of the human body. Well
has it been remarked, "'Little did they foresee that the bodies which
were so carefully embalmed for this purpose, and deposited in works
of such extraordinary labor as their catacombs, would one day be
come a regular article of trade, to be broken up, and sold as a medi
cine by the grain, or the scruple ;" and we may add, as recent tra
vellers tell us, to be used, as fuel to feed the fires of the wandering
Arab in his tent on the sands of the desert.
Without referring to other modes of disposing of the remains of
the dead, permit me to observe, that the mode so solemnly indicated
in the impressive Burial-Service of the Episcopal Church, — " ashes
to ashes, dust to dust" — is that which seems to commend itself
most strongly to all the sympathies of our nature1, as the most ap
propriate and befitting ; and that which in Christian countries is now
almost universally adopted.
The practice of Setting apart rural grounds, adorned and beautified
by nature and by art, as places of interment in the neighborhood of
large cities, is one which speaks well for the growing taste and re
finement of the age in which we live. "And who would not prefer
to rest in the rural cemetery, rather than in the city grave-yard — to
lay himself down beneath the shade of the cypress or the weeping
willow, amidst the silent retreats of Pere la Chaise, of Kensall
Green, or of our own Auburn or Greenwood, rather than in the
crowded city grave-yards of Paris or of London, of Boston or of
New York ? Did not the sad apd youthful poet, Henry Kirke
White, turn his grief-breathing harp to the language of nature, when
he wandered amidst the graves of Wilford Church-yard, and thus
gave utterance to the thoughts that burned within him ?

15
" And who would lay
His body in the city burial place,
To be thrown up again by some rude sexton,
And yield its narrow house another tenant,
Ere the moist flesh had mingled with the dust,
Ere the tenacious hair had left the scalp,
Exposed to insult lewd and wantonness 1
No ; I will lay me in the village ground :
There are the dead respected. The poor hind,
Unlettered as he is, would scorn to invade
The silent resting-place of death. I've seen
, The laborer, returning from his toil,
Here stay his steps,* and call his children round,
And slowly 'spell the rudely sculptured rhymes,
And in his rustic manner moralize."
Who would not prefer, rather than the crowded city burial-place,
to fix upon some spot amidst the solitudes of these Cypress Groves,
and then to sing once more with Kirke White, when selecting his
early grave : — "Here Would I wish to sleep. This is the spot
Which I have long marked out to lay my bones in ;
Tired out and wearied with the riotous world,
Beneath this yew I would be sepulchred.
It is a lovely spot ! , The sultry sun,
From his meridian height, endeavors vainly
To pierce the shadowy foliage ; while the zephyr
Comes wafting o'er the gently rippling Trent,
And plays about my Wan cheek ! "
Were it not forthe glorious truth, that light and immortality are
brought to light by the Gospel, the grave would be a melancholy
spot. The Christian knows that this is but a temporary resting-
place, and that a day. is coming when " all his dust shall rise ;" and
hence he may well associate the idea of cheerfulness and hope, of
warm suns, and green verdure, and blooming flowers, with " the
place of graves."
On a beautiful summer eve, a Christian lady of my acquaintance
sought the place of graves, to weep in silence over the turf that
covered the remains of a once-loved and lovely friend. The grave
occupied the brow of a hill, which, with many a knoll and graceful
undulation, sloped to a green meadow, and the wandering stream
which meandered at its base. A robin sung its song of love and
praise ; a sparrow passed, bearing food to its little progeny ; and the
song of the birds mingled with the hum of thousands of flitting in
sects. For this peace-breathing scene, however, the mourner had
no greeting. Yielding herself utterly to her grief, she knelt on the
sod and wept, regardless of all around. Not many minutes passed

16
when a sweet little child approached the weeping mourner. The
little one, who, though young, had doubtless learned to mourn, cast
a tender look upon the lady, and then laying one hand upon her
arm, and pointing with the other toward heaven, she said, in gentle
but thrilling tones, " There are no graves there !"
O, it was a sweet and beautiful expression ! May you, my friends
— as in future years you may perchance visit these Cypress Groves,
to weep over those who are now the joy and delight of your dwell
ings, but may then be the silent occupants of these peaceful retreats
— may you then, cheered by the remembrance of the dying triumphs
of the departed, and animated by the hopes of union in heaven, turn
away from earth and dust, and casting a glance of faith upward to
the Celestial City, be cheered and comforted by the thought, " There
are no graves there."
But I will not forget that this is only the Introductory Address on
the present solemn and interesting occasion. Leaving many of the
thoughts unuttered, therefore, that crowd upon my mind, I will
close by reciting an original poetical reply, put into my hands only
yesterday, by a beloved daughter, as her answer to my question,
proposed an hour or two before : — " Would you prefer to be buried
in the city burying-ground, or in the rural cemetery ?" The answer
was as follows : —

burial in the cypress hills.
"0! make not my grave where life's busy wave
Would ever above me swell,
Or the noisy shout of the crowd ring out,
Where silence and sleep should dwell ;
"For true hearts will yearn o'er my funeral urn,
And scalding drops be wrung ;
But they could not brook that the stranger's look
On their sacred grief be flung.
" I'd lay me down where the spring may crown
My grave with its earliest flowers ;
Where the zephyrs stray, and the sunbeams play,
'Mid the peaceful cypress bowers;
" Where mourners may sigh — nor the stranger's eye
Rudely gaze on the heart-cord riven ;
Where, alone, they may pray, o'er my couch of clay,
For glory and union in heaven."

17
The Prayer of Dedication, by Dr. Peck, was an appropriate and
solemn appeal to Heaven.
C Edwards Lester, Esq., then pronounced the'
DEDICATION ADDRESS.
Friends and Fellow-Citizens: — We have assembled to-day on
these Cypress Hills to dedicate to the repose of the grave and the
hopes of immortality, this new Thanatopsis. We halt an hour, in
our march over the waste of time," and leave the spot where we
stood, sacred forever.
It is a grand and a solemn occasion. Here, midway between the
creation of man and the great day of the Resurrection, we are come
to prepare a tomb of repose for an hundred generations. We are
rescuing from the turmoil and strife of a crazy world, one green spot
on earth's bosom that will be watched over tenderly by the guardian
ungels of those who sleep here— and on which the eye that never
slumbers will look with approbation — for in the touching language
of the Bible, we become co-workers with him in preserving the
forms of earth's children He will one day clothe with immortality.
We are performing an act, too, which the spirits of all the gifted
of the ancient world are contemplating with satisfaction, if there be
one out-look from the sky, where the departed can still gaze on the
shifting time-drama they once moved in. I can imagine who make
up this glorious company, if indeed their spirits are hovering over us.
That etherial train would be led by the great Seer and Father -of
ihp eastern world. Heaven itself became his biographer, and Inspi
ration the historian of the first rural cemetery ever founded—" And
Sarah died in Hebron, and Abraham came to mourn and weep for
her. And Abraham stood up from before his dead, and spa~ke unto
the sons of Heth — I am a stranger and a sojourner with you — give me
possession of a burying place with you, that I may bury my dead.
And the children of Heth answered — -in the choice of our sepulchres
bury thy dead— none of us shall withhold from thee his sepulchre.
And Abraham stood up and showed himself to the children of Heth,
and he communed with -them, saying — If it be your mind that I
should bury my dead, hear me, and entreat for me to Ephron, the
son of Zohar, that he may give me the cave of Machpelah, that is
by the end of his' field, for as much money as it is worth, he shall
give it me for a possession of a burying place. And Ephron an
swered — Nay, my lord, hear me. The field give I thee, and the
cave that is therein : I give it thee in the presence of the sons of my
people — bury thy dead. And Abraham bowed himself before the
people of the land, and said — I pray thee hear me ; I will give thee
money for the field — take it of me, and I will bury my dead there.
And Ephron answered — the land is worth four hundred shekels ot

18
silver — what is that betwixt me an4 thee ? bury therefore thy dead
And Abraham weighed to Ephron four hundred shekels of silver,
current money with the merchants, and he purchased the field and
the cave, and all the trees that were in the field, that were in all the
borders round about, were made sure unto Abraham for a possession
for a burying place."
Such is the touching story of the most ancient Rural Cemetery of
which history speaks, ,And with the same sublime and tender feel
ing, a thousand stricken hearts among all nations have consecrated
and adorned the places where they have laid their loved ones to rest.
The feelings of the patriarch spring up unbidden in every human
bosom. The companion of his joys and his sufferings had left him. He
felt the need of a family burying-ground, and he chose a secluded
corner in the cemetery of the people among whom he was a stranger,
adorned with green trees around the tomb and around all its borders.
It was a quiet rural spot, and he would pay for it with silver, and
own the soil, that it might not be invaded forever. A sadness came
over his spirit after the heavy blow had fallen. He was among
strangers, and there was balm to his heart, in the thought that his
loved one was reposing in ground secured to him forever — where the
lost cherished form was mingling warmly with the kindly earth,
amidst the singing of birds and the rustling of the waving green trees.
Ages flowed on, untiringly, and Time's all-desolating stream that un
dermines everything human, kept its flow — but it swept harmlessly
by the rural field of Machpelah. Abraham had been "dead two thou
sand years, and the long line of the Patriarchs were borne to their
repose by his side. But heaven had not forgotten the grave of his
family — its history was taken up by the pen of inspiration ; proud
empires had risen and gone to decay — but we are told that in the
times of the Savior Abraham's sepulchre was still preserved.
In that white-robed company of winged beings who would cluster
around us, would be, too, the half-divine form of Homer, who gave
Greece her heroism and poetry, and flung over the tombs of her great
children the wreath of undying fame — of Phidias, Cleomines, and
Praxiteles, who filled' their cemeteries and temples with breathing
marbles — of the divine Plato, who revealed to the spiritual-minded
Greeks the immortality of the soul — of Cicero and Virgil, who infus
ed into the civilization of Rome the elegant taste of the Greeks — in
a word, of all the great and the good who have, amidst the struggles
and gloom of a working world, directed mankind to the better hfe to
come. No nation on earth but our own 'has ever buried its dead amidst
the habitations of the living. We have done it, from some motive
that will not readily be understood by posterity. But its consequen
ces will be felt by our children — indeed, they are now felt by our

19
selves. Aheady the growth of our large towns and the progress of
an age of steam have everywhere invaded the sanctuaries of the dead
— affection can no longer find the memorial it placed over the object
of its love, when it comes on a distant pilgrimage to the grave ofthe
lost ; and the monument which was believed to be the herald of vir
tue to a future age, has been torn down by the ruthless hand of
" public good."
To escape these Vandal invasions, and leave the weary undisturb
ed, the founders of this Cemetery have gone beyond the turmoil of
our cities into the still country, where they could secure repose to
the ashes entrusted to their charge, till they shall wake to sleep no
more !
With these hopes and sentiments, we cheerfully beckon the weary
and the suffering to the unbroken repose of this Rural Thanatopsis ;
we welcome the -sorrowing and the broken-hearted to these sacred
Hills By these silver lakes ye may make your bed in peace —
along these peaceful valleys the hum of earth's distracting cares will
never come. We will plant the graceful willow to weep over your
dust — the sweetest zephyrs shall wake music from waving boughs
around yourhome, and the wild bird shall pour out his requiem strain
over your pillow. We will train the " ivy-never-sere" over your
monument, and teach the winter-loving evergreen to cling to you
through the frost. And when the first warm sunbeam of spring looks
into your secluded dell, the pale violet and the white snow-drop
shall bloom over your resting place.
We know of no reason why the rural cemetery may not be made
cheerful for the living, as well as sacred to the dead ; a spot to which
genius and sentiment may come for lessons of art, virtue, and wisdom.
Such was the idea of the Ancients, who regarded death as an
honorable termination to a life of toil and heroism — and hence the
burial places of the Greeks were associated with images of taste,
cheerfulness, art, and refinement. Such was the idea of the Hebrews,
who consecrated their most beautiful grounds for the sepulchres of
their fathers, and embellished them with the richest adornments.
Christianity, too, which elevates every noble principle of man's na
ture, and refines his purest feelings, has sanctified the tomb of the
Christian. It becomes something more than the sarcophagus of the
ancients, which preserved honored ashes. It is the hallowed mauso
leum, where the form is sleeping that will one day put on immortality.
The early Christians appear to have had none of those revolting
ideas about the grave, with which moderns have so frequently asso
ciated it ; and many of the most picturesque spots in the Orient were
chosen by them for the sites of their temples, under whose solemn
shadows they laid their departed to rest. Thefe are a thousand
sightly hills along the shores of the Mediterranean, where the grey
towers of early Christian churches and convents are still relieved

20
against the sky ; and these consecrated places are marked by tall
cypresses, that cast their sombre shades over early generations.
To this day the Moravians, who preserve many of those touching
primeval customs that had their origin in the purer days of Christ
ianity, regard their burial places as the dearest and most attractive
spots. They never use the word death — they speak of their lost
only as the departed. They educate their children to visit the graves
of their fathers with cheerfulness and pleasure, to pursue their studies
and take their walks of relaxation there, enlivening their moments of
toil by emblems of immortality.
The Greeks called their cemeteries by the touching and beautiful
name — gardens of the reposing. Where did our cold, revolting, forbid
ding, and disgusting notions of a grave-yard come from ? Not from
the old Egyptians, Phoenicians, Romans, or Greeks ; not from the
elegant nations of modern Europe ; and they certainly never came
from the sepulchre ofthe Christian, where we
" See truth, love, and mercy, in triumph descending,
And Nature all glowing in Eden's first blopm,
On the cold cheek of death smiles and roses are blending,
And beauty, immortal, awakes from the tomb."
With the desire of combining in the grounds of the Cypress Hills
all that is touching, picturesque, and beautiful, that can be borrowed
from the Classic and the Christian world, and with a wish to see all
classes of our fellow-citizens able to participate in the tender inter
ests, associations, and advantages of such a spot, we have estabhshed
this Cemetery. We feel that death levels all distinctions among men ;
the prince ^.nd the beggar are the same, and they should appear the
same in God's temple and in the grave. There can be no real dis
tinctions in death, and there should appear none. If there be a bless
ing in wealth which should make it desired by all, it is that it may ex
empt us from wasting care and toil on earth, and give us an honored
grave when we die, embellished by taste, where affection may come
to rear its monument and plant its flowers. If, then, taste, genius, and
wealth have adorned a common Cemetery for the citizens of a town
or a district, why should not its advantages be open to all ? The for
tunate and the learned may come to these grounds, and they shall
find their purest tastes for landscape and artistic beauty gratified —
but we will welcome, with equal cordiality and respect, the hard hand
of honest toil. Here the poor man shall sleep as proudly as royalty.
Such are the objects and feelings with which this Cemetery has
been founded, and such are the sentiments with which we commend
it to our successors forever.
Over this hallowed cluster of fraternal cemeteries let the spirit of
peace and beauty reign, till that final morning when the Angel of the
Resurrection, spreading the shadow of his broad wing over the troubled
ocean, lifts the trumpet whose blast shall wake the dead of the West
ern World !

21

CYPRESS HILLS.
The subject of burials is one in which everybody is interested. It
is an inevitable interest. But it takes an augmented importance in
large and densely populated cities, amidst congregated masses of men,
where, every hour, death deals so many blows, and where we are
constantly met by processions to the grave. The grounds for inter
ment, assuredly, would never have been originally laid out within the
inhabited limits of a city, but the city has expanded itself and grown
around these places of the dead. That, in such instances, burials
should have been continued, is, indeed, surprising. But that large;
fields, devoted to such purpose, should be permitted to' remain in the
very centres of trade, sending up their unhealthful miasm amidst the
roofs of the living, shows how abuses may grow up, and; unmolested,
continue, when the intellects and hearts of men are bent, with con
centrated energy, upon the affairs of commerce.
Our City, with its component surroundings, feels the beatings of
half a million hearts. Within how few years will its population be
duplicated. Hitherward tends the tide of enterprise, not only from
all parts of our own broad country, but of the world. Here, not
withstanding the extraordinary natural salubrity of our position, be
tween those two majestic arms of the sea, and with the respirations
of ocean passing freely over us, we are peculiarly subject to those
diseases which concentrated humanity and crowded holds may gene-
ratej and which thronging emigration may bring from more unwhole
some climes. The epidemics which, warmed into existence under
vertical heat, sweep over the ancient continents, taking the course of
commerce, make their first descent upon our coast, at this great point
of debarkation.
Let us come up to the aid of our natural advantages, and seek not
to thwart them. Can it be denied that the depositing of numerous
dead within the city, surrounded by the residences of the living, must
largely contribute to atmospheric impurity ?
Can we not see these reeking exhalations, conjoining with all other
sources of uncleanliness to beckon us to the ship-fever, the cholera,
and all similar diseases which scent and follow the impure currents
of the air ?
The peculiar form of our island condenses its crowds upon this
narrow tongue of land, and pushes us over upon New Jersey and Long
Island. We have scarcely room for the living. Our plunging vehicles
endanger life and limb. Ingenuity is taxed to supply our deficiency

22
of space upon the land, by reclaiming the dominion of the air ; and
new methods of creating serial avenues are constantly submitted to
our City Fathers for approval. Let the dead be taken from amidst
these crashing scenes. Let them be carried to some secluded spot,
away from these rushing streams of business, where,
"After life's fitful fever,"
they may sleep quietly and well — where tranquillity may reign and
art adorn — where affection may not make fruitless search for the rest
ing place of the departed, and where friendship may receive new im
pulses for good as it gazes on the solemn grave.
Among the great and benign features of this advancing age, teem
ing with wondrous novelties, strange plans, and grand ideas, we should
be untrue to the spirit of these high pulsations, these progressive
throes, and onward movements, if, while we prepare, improve, and
enlarge the places,, the mechanism, the utilities, and the adornments of
life, we forget to enshrine the material envelopes of our spirits, when
laid aside, in sanctuaries, blessed, hallowed, and lovely, whose very
atmosphere shall breathe of hope, and peace, and sadness, and where
holiness, like a spell, shall consecrate the remembrances that cluster
around and speak from the dead — dedicated places, where the visit
ant unquiet heart may beat more calmly — the imagination be chast
ened, the soul purified, and aspirations for a high celestial life be
stirred into activity. It is one of the evidences of progressing civi
lization, that the dead may welcome the living to their homes with
the smiles of nature and her love tones, and her verdant carpet resting
softly on the placid heart, and her rosy flowers of perfumed breath
and stainless hue loading the air with fragrance — with her graceful,
sympathizing willows — her dark, sad cypress — her moaning pines —
investing with a solemn beauty these sanctuaries, hitherto so drear
and neglected.
It is therefore with delight we hail the advent of the Cypress Hills
Cemetery — uniting all of beauty, convenience, and advantage, and
combining her efforts with her sister institution to benefit the living
and to guard the dead.
How often will these suggestive abodes win hither the living to
bathe their souls in holy meditation ? How often will they come to
bring fresh garlands and green chaplets to hang over the white urns
which hold the precious dust of those they love ? Yea, they may
come and' return, but they will not go away from breathing this
sanctified air without some sweet thought, it may be the first, to be
woven into the religious garniture of their existence. — Home Journa.
1st January, 1849.

23

REGULATIONS FOR INTERMENTS.
1. The keeper, who lives at the grounds, is required to be present
at, and superintend every interment.
2. A statement of the name, place of nativity, residence, with
number of street, the age and disease of each person interred,
must be delivered to the keeper, that a correct registry may be kept
thereof. 3. At least six hours' previous notice of interments to be made
must be given at one of the offices, or to the keeper at the
Cemetery. 4. The charges for interments, as herein stated, must in all cases
be paid at the offices of the Cemetery, before the interment, or to
the keeper ofthe grounds at the time.

FOR VISITORS.
A ticket will be issued to each proprietor of a lot, which will enti
tle him to be' admitted with a vehicle, subject to the subjoined regu
lations. The privilege will be forfeited by a violation of them, or a
loan of the ticket.
1 . Persons on foot will be admitted at the lodge without tickets, on
all days. The gate will be opened at sunrise, and closed at sunset.
No person on horseback admitted, except lot-owners and their
household. No vehicle will be admitted, unless accompanied by a
proprietor, or a member of his or her household, with his or her
ticket, unless having a special ticket of admission.
2. Children not admitted unless with parents, or other suitable
attendants. Nor will schools be admitted, or other large assem
blages, without teachers or other attendants.
3. No vehicle to be driven in the Cemetery at a rate faster than
five miles an hour.
4. No smoking permitted within the grounds, or persons having
refreshments. Baskets and the like articles, and dogs, to be left in
charge of the keeper.

24
5. All persons prohibited from breaking any tree, shrub, or plant,
or picking any flowers, either wild or cultivated.
6. No horse to be left unfastened in the grounds.
7. All persons prohibited from defacing, writing upon, or injure
mg any monument, fence, or other structure, in or belonging tq the
Cemetery. 8. No noisy or disorderly persons, or persons who shall violate
any of these rules, will be permitted to remain in the grounds.
9. The keeper will not admit any improper person, or any one
who, at any time, may have wantonly disobeyed any of these regu
lations, even if he have a ticket.
10. The keeper, and every person employed by the association,
are prohibited from receiving money for personal services or atten
tions. Inasmuch as the grounds are devoted to the sacred purpose of a
garden for the dead, it is requested of all that the proprieties of the
place may not be disregarded.
The keeper has the care of the Cemetery, and is duly authorized
to remove all who commit trespasses, or violate any ofthese regula
tions. Trespassers, also, may be criminally prosecuted, and sub
jected to a fine of Fifty Dollars, and are liable for such damages as
they may have caused.

IMPORTANT NOTICE
TO ALL PERSONS VISITING THE CYPRESS HILLS, FOR BURIAL
PROCESSIONS, OR PLEASURE EXCURSIONS.
The Long Island Railroad Trains leave the South Ferry (Brooklyn)
four times a day, which affords the greatest facilities for visitors and
processions to the Cemetery, where all the Trains have their regular
stopping place.
The 1st Train leaves Brooklyn at 9i o'clock, A. M.
" 2d " " " 12 " Noon.
« 3d " " " 4 " P. M.
" 4th " " " 6 " P. M.
Returning, the Trains pass the Cemetery at 2 o'clock, half past. 4,
and half past 5 o'clock.

{{cJf. For the accommodation of parties or processions, the R R. Co.,
in view of the great number of persons visiting Cypress Hills will send
out a Special Train, on any day or hour, to the Cemetery and back,
and carry 60 persons or less for Ten Dollars — thus for the small sum
of $10, sixty persons can attend a burial, and consume less than two
hours' time !
None but the Special Trains leave on Sunday !