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Franklin Pioneer Cemetery
~ VENANGO COUNTY ~
Submitted by: Joyce Neidich


In 1999 the Venango County Historical Society, with painstaking effort, documented the residual stones and monuments still in evidence of our early pioneers. After a cleanup campaign in 1954, the Daughters of the American Revolution conducted a survey of tombstones and known burials. These records were incorporated and published in the Venango County Pennsylvania Cemetery Records and Early Church Histories, Volume 7, Sandycreek Township.

The following article, written August 7, 1900 for the Derrick [Oil City newspaper], refers to the deplorable condition of the Pioneer Cemetery. Wish flourish the writer, John J. McLaurin, chastises the community by stating that the cemetery is "simply a disgrace to decent humanity." A century has passed since Mr. McLaurin's article appeared in the local newspaper. We are fortunate that he made the effort not only to site inscriptions and epitaphs of our forgotten ancestors but also to add short biographies and or known facts about the individuals.

Underlined areas refer to date discrepancies with other records and spelling errors both as in scripted and typographical

******

SHORT SERMONS IN SANDSTONES OVER THE DEAD

The Old Graveyard Where Many Franklin Pioneers Were Laid to Rest

NEGLECTED AND DESECRATED

Interesting Inscriptions. Some Quaint Epitaphs. Monuments Thrown Down and Defaced. Forgotten Names Revived. A Blot on the Fair Fame of the Community.

[Written for the Derrick.]

FRANKLIN, August 7, 1900 - One of the daintiest towns on God's green footstool, Franklin has many things to satisfy the yearning soul and render life worth living. Girls lovelier than Mohammed's bewitching houris are delightfully plentiful. Fair women and brave men, clever youths and lively urchins crop out everywhere. In the way of air and scenery, culture and society, privileges and conveniences, progress and enterprise, there is little more to be desired. The men who cannot find comfort and enjoyment in this neck of woods should order his ascension-robe and soar to Heaven forthwith. He has no business keeping the angels lonely without him. Yet the sun has his spots, the ointment has its fly, every community has some blemish, and Franklin must plead guilty to one offense in this instance is the neglected, desecrated grave-yard at the upper end of the city, which is simply a disgrace to decent humanity.]

Three generations have had their innings since, towards the close of the last century, the State donated two acres of ground a mile up French creek for burial purposes. A few families had come to located permanently amid the hills which Indian warfare and fierce struggles between the French and English made historic. Wigwams of the redskins dotted the flats, but the pale-faces were there to stay and the certainty of death some day necessitated a place of interment. Later on more ground was added to the original grant, until the plot stretched from the creek to Elk street, with Fifteenth street on the west, Otter street cut off short, and the eastern boundary reaching far enough to enclose a couple of city blocks. The newer ground was owned by lot-holders, thus vesting separate titles in a host of persons. The hardy settlers thinned out, each season the number of mounds increased the ceaseless march to the tomb knew no interruption, and "God's acre" was populated thickly.

Thirty years ago the Franklin Cemetery was laid out on a scale befitting the growing community. Scores of bodies were removed by loving friends from the primitive graveyard. Other scores, most of them the remains of those whose relatives had disappeared, were let undisturbed. Gradually the old ground fell into disuse. Fences rotted, weeds flourished, monuments toppled over and cattle roamed at will. At length the State-division was fenced in by itself and put in fair order. The other section went from bad to worse. Vandals, supposed to be created in God's image, smashed tombstones, tore away palings, gambled and caroused. Cows pastured and defiled the neglected graves. To-day the spot presents a sad picture of ruin and desecration. A house, erected in the eighties, burned down, leaving a heap of rubbish to add to the desolation. Vacated graves, only half-filled when their occupants were taken to the cemetery, contain fragments of palings, copings and headstones. Here and there a memorial in sandstone stands erect, as if to rebuke the inexcusable violation of the place hallowed in the past by sacred associations. The whole surrounds shook the sensibilities, and demand an immediate, radical change. This foul blot on the fair fame of the community ought to be wiped out at once. Perhaps the better way is to condemn the property as a nuisance, remove the dust of the dead who slumber in the upper section, and convert it into a public park. The other part can be beautified and kept in good condition at small expense. Let the mayor and council take proper action in the matter.

A visit to the graveyard reveals much that is interesting. Pretentious monuments are not in evidence, small blocks of gray sandstone serving the humble wishes of the pioneers. The need of a second "old Mortality," to clear away rank weeds and restore fading epitaphs, is sadly apparent on all sides. To rescue some worthy people from oblivion, a number of the inscriptions were copied literally for this article. Go with me in spirit through the deserted ground and note the principal features. The experience will certainly convince you of the injustice of the Jeffersonian maxim: "The dad have no rights." Have not the men and women who endured the privations of life in the wilderness, that their children and children's children might enjoy peace and plenty, the right to await the resurrection-morning in graves that show at least a semblance of care? Now, let us look around for here "the rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep."

****

Tread reverently to the extreme northwest corner, beside the board-fence and the tracks of the Lake Shore railroad. Probably the oldest grave, tenanted over one-hundred years, is at this spot. Picture the great stretches of woods, with patches of clearing here and there, and the sorrowful gathering; Indians watching curiously, when the first grave in the plot assigned to the dead received its occupant. Six feet south of the son the fond mother awaits the resurrection-morning. Two gray headstones recite the simple tale that they lived and died:

In memory of
MICHAEL HULINGS
who departed this life
the 9th of Aug. 1797
Aged 27 years, 1 moth
and 14 days
MASSAR
Wife of Marcus Hulings
Died
Feb. 9, 1813
aged 67 yrs. 2 ms and
22 ds.

Possibly Marcus Hulings, the husband and father, was laid here also, but there is neither mound nor monument to indicate the fact, if such be the case. He was the first French-Creek ferryman, and the first white man to skim the greasy scum from the stream and use the "earth oil" as medicine and liniment. He raised corn and potatoes and dwelt in a log cabin not far from the site of the brush-factory, now Hon. J.C. Sibley's stable, and the Evans well. "Peace to his ashes!"

Beneath a flat stone, broken, and almost illegible, very near Mrs. Hulings, is the dust of a woman whose surname - Selder - is well-nigh forgotten. Another tomb, covered with a marble-slab, likewise records a name long notable in Venango county. The inscriptions say:

In memory of
REBECCA SELDER
who was born Aug. 25, 1776
and departed this life July 20th 1815
in the 39th year of her age.

MARY
wife of
John Fagundas
Died
Nov.11, 1837
in the 85. year of her age

Abraham Selder, famed as a weather-prophet, had a farm where part of Rocky Grove is located, within a stone's throw of the Franklin cemetery. Robert McCalmont was his neighbor and only four families resided in what is now the Third Ward, which was then a portion of Sugarcreek township. Two of his daughters were drowned in French Creek on night on their way home from a meeting. Fagundas was the title bestowed upon an oil-town in Warren county in compliment to a member of the family who removed thither from this section. Two other names not repeated so often as of yore are cut in headstones a little distance apart:

In memory of
SAMUEL SIMMONS
who was born
Aug. 12th 1777
and departed this life
Sepr. 28th 1828

In memory of
RACHEL MORRISON
who departed this life
April 10, 1827
in the 77 year of her age

The Morrison tablet is disintegrating rapidly, and will shortly be too indistinct to decipher. Rachel Morrison may have been related to John Morrison, the first court -crier, who used a tin-horn to summon people to the court-house and lived to be upwards of ninety. A daughter of Samuel Simmons married Noah S. Ridgway, some of whose children live on Buffalo street.

One of the leading families in early times is largely represented close to the Hullings lot. Gray headstones and a small shaft of white marble commemorate the pioneer-surveyor, his venerable wife - perhaps Franklin's only centenarian-and several of the children. The quaint carving on the ancient sandstones is very plain, notwithstanding the lapse of time and ravages of weather. The marble column has these simple records:

ALEXANDER McDOWELL
Died
Jan. 4, 1816
in the
63. year of his age

SARAH
Wife of
Alexander McDowell
Died Sep 27 1865
Aged 103 years

Col. McDowell's first tombstone lies on the sunken grave, nearly covered by dirt and weeds. By his side sleep two young daughters, who are perpetuated in terms precisely identical:

In memory of
SUSAN
Daughter of
Alexander and Sarah McDowell
who departed this life
Aug't. 30th AD 1806
In the 8th year of Her age

In memory of
MARY
Daughter of
Alexander and Sarah McDowell
who departed this life
March 16th AD 1821
In the 8th year of Her age

A similar stone, inscribed in the same fashion, marks the grave of Eliza, who died on December 23rd, 1809, in her thirteenth year. Some distance off another daughter of the McDowell house is buried. The wife of a man famed in Venango county two-generations ago, the solitary headstone guarding her resting-place tells the visitor this brief story:

In memory of
SARAH
consort of
Alexander S. Hays
and daughter of
Alexander and Sarah McDowell
who departed this life
July 3rd 1821
in the 21st year of her age

The descendants of Alexander and Sarah McDowell are scattered widely, Some of them live in Franklin. No one now alive can recall the genial Colonel, who surveyed many of the streets and lots in Franklin, but Mrs. McDowell is tenderly remembered by hundreds of friends for her womanly graces, her unfailing kindness, her wonderful activity and her remarkable longevity.

A single block of sandstone, two rods east of the cluster of McDowell graves, rescues an excellent couple from oblivion:

In memory of
BARBARA BROADFOOT
who departed this life
Jan. 23. 1810
in the 58. year of her age

JOHN BROADFOOT
who departed this life
Jan. 16. 1823
in the 77. year of his age

John Broadfoot was an industrious carpenter, thrifty, upright and respected. He helped build many of the farm-houses which succeeded the log-cabins of the first settlers. Few specimens of his handiwork remain, most of the old landmarks having disappeared. His house stood near the site of the Presbyterian church. A daughter married Alexander McCalmont, uniting two families promment almost from the beginning of Franklin as the residence of white people. Her tombstone and one of a relative nearby it say:

In memory of
MARGARET
consort of
ALEXANDER McCALMONT
And daughter of
JOHN and BARBARA BROADFOOT
who departed this life
March 1, 1817
in the 28th year of her age

ELIZABETH
wife of
JOHN McCALMONT
and daughter of
Henry and Jane Conrad
died
Aug. 7 1829
in the 77 year of her age

This division of the graveyard holds the remains of a good old Mother in Israel, whose posterity embraces a goodly number of esteem residents of the city. Her history is summed up tersely:

In memory of
MARTHA DEWOODY
Consort of
Gorge Dewoody
who departed this life
August 19th 1826
Aged 88 years

Among the Franklin descendants of George and Martha Dewoody are Miss Martha Dewoody and the family of J. Lowrie Dewoody, who live near the old homestead on Thirteenth street, between Otter street and French Creek. Exceeding brevity marks the tribute to another old-timer, whose land a mile up the creek is now owned by Stephen Barrett:

GEORGE SUTLEY
Died
May 15, 1836
Aged 62 years 8 mo'

The climax is attained in this instance, the marble having no date and no particulars of the deceased except these three lines:

BARBARA ELLEN HASTINGS
Aged 28 years

Eminent in his day as a worker in wood and quick arithmetician was a citizen who reposes near the center of the ground. His and his wife's headstones, alike in size, style and queer lettering, deserve notice:

In memory of
Jonathan Sage
Wase born
feb th21 1768
and departed this life
march th4 1823
in the 56 year of his age

In memory of
Mercy Read
was born
August 5th 1768
consort of
Jonathan Sage
and departed this life
February 28th 1814
in the 46 year of her age

The Sages lived originally near the corner of Elk and Eleventh streets, on the lot J.W. Reamer's new home now occupies. Two of their neighbors slumber within a few rods, in graves with unpretentious memorials of sandstone:

In memory of
SAMUEL RHOADES
who died June 17th 1841
in the 64th year of his age

In memory of
MARGARET
Consort of
Samuel Rhoades
who died April 16th 1818
in the 34th year of her age

Samuel Rhoades dwelt on a farm near Polk, and his son Samuel operated an iron furnace in Sugarcreek township. Similar to these mementoes in expression and simplicity are the reminders of a husband and wife not long divided by death:

In memory of
ISAAC SMITH
who departed this life
April 22nd 1841
in the 69th year of his age

In memory of
HANNAH
consort of
Isaac Smith
who departed this life
Dec 7, 1841
in the 66th year of her age

Stalwart Isaac Smith, stout-hearted, muscular and fond of good cheer, ran the ferry across the Allegheny, in the lower end of town, ere the thought of spanning the river with a bridge had been conceived. His wife, Hannah Brown, was sister of Captain James Brown, celebrated for his skill in beating the drum. Relatives of the old ferryman are still numerous in and around Franklin. Without doubt he has met a host of Smiths in the land of perpetual reunion.

Journalists and appreciative readers of newspapers will be especially interested in a small tablet a few yards from the Sages, which modestly records:


In memory of
JOHN E. LAPSLEY
Editor of the
VENANGO DEMOCRAT
who departed this life
Jan. 15, 1842

The Democrat long since passed out of existence, so that the faithful editor and the paper established are scarcely remembered. Alas! "We are such stuff as dreams are made on." A man whose prowess Lapsley and the "Democrat" would surely have commended. Had the sheet been born early enough, is mentioned on a bit of sandstone not many feet away:

In memory of
JOHN RAY
Who departed this life
[July] 29th 1827
in the 50 year of his age

John Ray possessed great strength and was a famous wrestler. He preformed all kinds of manual labor and chopped acres of cordwood. Death worsted him in the prime of vigorous manhood. This inscription brings to mind a sturdy son of Vulcan, who blacksmith in a shop near the site of the Lamberton Bank:

In memory of
NANCY L.
consort of
Samuel Snyder
and daughter of
William and Eleanor Ritchey
who died July 15th 1843
Aged 25 years 10 months and 25 days

The oldest spelling and punctuation are shown in these examples, which the elements will soon obliterate completely from the crumbling sandstones:

In memory of
James and Catherine Hanne
Ho departed this life
July 3 1830

JAMES
AGED TWO
Years one months ten days

CETHERINE
AGED two months and 14 days

JANE
consort of
DAVID KING
who departed this life
April 14, 1829
Aged 31 years

O may I se thy tribes rejoic
and aid their triumphs
with my voice this all.
my Glory Lord to be joined to thy
saints and near to. Thee

Another which formerly attracted much attention, because of the peculiarity of the eulogy, is no longer visible. The body over which the stone stood sentinel may have been transferred to the new cemetery. The inscription read:

In memory of
Samuel Riddle, Esq.
Born Aug 4 1821
At Scrubgrass
Died May 28 1853
At Franklin
Venango County, PA

Here lies an honest lawyer.
Honored and respected while living,
He is lamented and mourned when dead.
While the characterization of "an honest lawyer"
Was no doubt, entirely truthful, recording
it on Mr. Riddle's tombstone must be considered
out of the ordinary practice.

A humble stone, standing alone near the north fence. Recalls a family that occupied land two miles up French Creek early in the century. This is the inscription:

In memory of
DAVID NICKERSON
Who departed this life
December 27th 1812
In the 59th year of his age

In a like manner a small headstone south of Nickerson's suggests the pioneer who cleared the ground near Big Rock, built a comfortable home and planted an orchard, some trees of which yet linger. The tract included Glenfern Park. A grandson of Jacob Lyons is thus remembered:

JAMES
Son of
S. & S. Lyons
Died Sept. 12, 1847
Aged 20 yrs
10 mo. 1 day

Jacob Lyons made earthen crocks, jugs and pitchers, which he sold for cash or exchanged for produce, boating cargoes up and down the Allegheny to find a market. A great-grandson, his namesake, is employed at the Galena Oil Works.

Three headstones towards the north-east corner represent a family long identified with the community:

In memory of
JANE KINNEAR
who departed this life
October 28th 1818
in the 21 year of her age

In memory of
ALEXANDER KINNEAR
who emigrated from
Ireland A.D. 1791
and departed this life
May 21st 1821
In the 64 year of his age

REBECCA KINNEAR
Died
Nov 2 1841
aged 26 years

Misses Kate and Mary Kinnear, who live on Liberty street, above Fourteenth, are descended from Alexander Kinnear. The name is also found in the other enclosure, amid the rubbish near the corner of Fifteenth and Elk streets, on a thin marble thrown down, broken and trampled into the dirt by unfeeling cattle and still more unfeeling human ghouls:

SARAH
consort of
A.W. Kinnear
Died
October 2, 1863
aged 22 y's
10 m's and 8 d's

Remember friends as you pass by
As you are now so once was I!
As I am now so you must be
Prepare for death and follow me.

This is one of the few stanzas inscribed on any of the monuments. The scarcity of poetry is unusual in old graveyards. One narrow stone in the northern plot has these words, with the lines divided queerly for lack of space to give each full with:

In
Memory of
LEVI DODD, JR
who departed this life
Jen 2d 1833
age 6 years
9 months and 16 day

The storm that Wreck the winter sky
No more disturb-
His deep repose
Than summer's
Deep evenings
Latest sigh that
Shuts the rose.

The lad laid away so long ago was a son of Levi Dodd, an honored pioneer. A man of devoted piety, Mr. Dodd was one of the first ruling elders of the Presbyterian Church and opened the first Sunday-school in Franklin. He worked at cabinet-making many years, and retained his eldership to the close of his long and useful life. The good old elder sleeps in the new cemetery.

A name once familiar in Franklin, although seldom heard of late years, is preserved by a small tablet in the same section:

LEVI DODD, JR
who departed this life
Jen 2d 1833
age 6 years
9 months and 16 day

In Memory of
SUSAN
Consort of
Josiah D. Espy
who departed this life
Feb 16th A D 1817
in her 57 year

The inscription does not reveal Mrs. Espy's maiden-name, nor is there anything to show whether he[r] husband rest by her side. The Espys were connected by marriage with the Connelys, whose ancestor in Venango county, William Connely, attained a patriarchal age and was a perfect encyclopedia of historic lore pertaining to the settlement and progress of Franklin. A flat slab, near the Fifteenth street entrance to the graveyard, bears a short record:

ELIZABETH CONNELY
Wife of
WILLIAM CONNELY
Departed this life
December 1, 1842,
Aged 69 years

Likely the fair young girl whose epitaph is the longest in the enclosure was a daughter of William and Elizabeth Connely. A headstone half-buried beneath dirt and grass, evidently having fallen long years ago, and not easy to read, makes a touching reference to her religious principle:

In memory of
REBECCA C. CONNELY
Who departed this life
May 19, 1813
Aged 16 years

In the full triumph of Christian faith.
Her affictions were severe,
But grace had sanctified them
for in her expiring moments
she could say
from blessed experience
Jesus can make a dying bed
Feel soft as downy pillows are
While on his breast I lay my head
And breathe my life out sweetly there.

If all professing Christians possessed this sublime trust, the world would soon be converted, Satan would go into bankruptcy, and the Salvation Army could go fishing.

In the south-east corner, facing Fifteenth street, this headstone is conspicuous:

In
Memory of
MARGARETT
consort of
JEREMIAH CLANCY
who departed this life
April 23rd, 1835
Aged thirty-two years
and 4 months

Jeremiah Clancy was an old-time landlord, conducting a popular hostelry on Thirteenth street, opposite where the McClure House is now situated. A descendant is Mrs. E.W. Echols, wife of the well-known Franklin banker. Climbing over the fence and entering the southern ground, with its sad evidences of gross neglect and desecration, the principal shaft in the ruinous waste commemorates a worthy pair. A worn sandstone at its base tells of the little daughter. The inscriptions run:

ANDREW BOWMAN
Died
Nov 18, 1859
aged
76 years, 10 m's & 18 d's

SARAH H. BOWMAN
Died
July 3, 1871,
Aged 76 years

In memory of
RUTH BOWMAN
who departed this life
May 23th
in the year of our Lord
1824
aged 2 years 10 months and 12 days

Andrew Bowman, tanner and shoemaker, lived on the corner of Elk and West Park streets, the site of the Kennerdell home. He was foremost in good works, serving with Levi Dodd as Presbyterian elder and Sunday-school teacher, and doing much to build the first church, a frame on the ground of the present manse, now occupied by Rev. W.Y. Chapman. Near the Bowman plot a tree has grown from the middle of a grave, as though to protect it from rude despoilers. The headstone reveals a surname known in Franklin all though the century:

ASENATH
Wife of
CARSON EVANS
who died
July 31, 1848
aged 42 years 10 months
and 26 days.

Do not the founders of Franklin and their loved ones deserve kinder treatment at the hands of their ungrateful posterity? Alas, that Rip Van Winkle's wail should be so true: "How soon are we forgotten!" It might be a pleasure to attend the funerals and plant in weed-grown holes the cigarette fiend, the bicycle-scorcher, the fellow who knows it all, the scavenger in smut and slander, the whelp who seeks to belittle his betters, the corner-loafer and the tobacco-spitter who smears floors and side walks, but the pioneers of Venango county are entitled to something different. Shall their memories be cherished and their graves kept green? What is Franklin's answer?

JOHN J. McLAURIN

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