are back there," Moss says. "They were 

 digging in the back to plant more bodies, 

 and they kept running into bodies. We're 

 not allowed by law to dig up or disturb 

 the unmarked graves in the back. And 

 there really is no unobtrusive way of 

 determining an awful lot about it." 



In fact, much of the cemetery's 

 early history was pieced together from 

 oral histories 

 and family 

 records. 

 Information 

 about births and 

 deaths was kept 

 by the local 

 Anglican 

 Church, the 

 established 

 church in the 

 1700s. But 

 church leaders 

 packed and 

 moved to 

 Canada during 

 the Revolution- 

 ary War, taking 

 with them vital 

 records of the 

 townspeople. 



As one of 

 the oldest 

 cemeteries in 

 coastal North 

 Carolina, the 



Old Burying Ground is listed on the 

 National Register of Historic Places. It 

 grew around a building used for reading 

 the service of the Anglican Church and 

 was deeded to the town of Beaufort in 

 1731. Today, its stone and wrought-iron 

 gates contain the remains of more than 

 200 known graves and countless others. 



Live oaks shelter these graves, time- 

 eaten testaments to lives long past. 

 Markers tilt from decades and centuries 

 of exposure. They are grand and modest, 

 inscribed and mute. Some have been 

 scoured by wind and rain, their epitaphs 

 obscured by time and lichens. Many 

 graves have lost their markers, or they 

 had none at all. 



In fact, few of the earliest graves 

 were marked by the slabs and stones that 



we know today. Because there is no 

 stone native to the coast, only the 

 wealthy could afford to import a 

 tombstone by water from New England. 

 Consequently, many graves were 

 marked by materials both modest and 

 temporary. Small pyramids only a few 

 bricks tall identify some graves while 

 worn cypress stakes mark others. The 



f ' "A i . • : • Uh % ■ "lis' • 



A Lupton family memorial on Cedar Island 



stakes, especially, were far from 

 permanent. 



"They weather so badly that in no 

 time at all you can't see anything," 

 Moss says. "A lot of them are gone." 



A few unusual graves from the late 

 1 700s and 1 800s are bricked over in a 

 vaulted, barrel shape. These covered 

 graves were designed to hold the 

 remains in place during flooding and to 

 prevent animals from digging up bodies. 

 One of the vaults is believed to hold a 

 Revolutionary War soldier, Moss says. 

 There are no records on him — just 

 local legend and the age of the tomb, 

 deduced from its mounded style and 

 decrepitude. 



Besides Revolutionary War 

 soldiers, men who fought in the Civil 



War on the Union and Confederate sides 

 are also found inside the cemetery gates. 

 Although North Carolina eventually 

 joined the Confederacy, many coastal 

 communities were sympathetic to the 

 Union because they lacked the export 

 agriculture economy and large planta- 

 tions that relied on slave labor, Moss 

 says. Local Confederates had a name for 

 North Carolin- 

 ians who joined 

 the Union army 

 — they were 

 called "buffa- 

 loes," but the 

 reason isn't 

 clear. 



Nearly all of 

 the graves, in 

 keeping with 

 tradition, are 

 turned toward 

 the east so that 

 the buried can 

 look upon the 

 sun when they 

 rise on judgment 

 day. But unlike 

 our modern 

 markers, the 

 inscriptions are 

 on the west- 

 facing side, 

 away from the 

 body. 



In this way, people were placed into 

 the soil of the Old Burying Ground until 

 1825, when it was declared full. But 

 people continued to bury their dead there 

 until another cemetery was opened on 

 Ann Street this century. Even today, 

 under certain circumstances, people are 

 still placed in the Old Burying Ground 

 with their ancestors. 



Colorful old graveyards such as this 

 one, well cared for and beautiful, are a 

 rich source of history, philosophy and 

 beauty. But the roadside family cemeter- 

 ies are also worth a stop. 



G 



✓edar Island, a small community 

 northeast of Beaufort, has more than a 

 dozen cemeteries dotting its roadsides. 

 Toward Lola, an old graveyard contains 



4 MARCH/APRIL 1997 



