A very Victorian towering shaft topped with an urn. It probably dates from 1891, when A. R. Sloan died.
Pittsburgh Cemeteries
The Art and Architecture of Death
The Art and Architecture of Death
A very Victorian towering shaft topped with an urn. It probably dates from 1891, when A. R. Sloan died.
This unusual round Doric temple, unlike a closed mausoleum, invites cemetery visitors to step up and under the roof. There the names of the Baum family members interred here are inscribed in an open stone book on a lectern.
Generations of Heinzes rest in this Jeffersonian domed mausoleum, including H. J. the ketchup king and the late Senator John Heinz.
Leaves are falling, and the low angle of the late-year sun illuminates them in an irresistibly picturesque way.
This pyramid, almost certainly the most-photographed mausoleum in the cemetery, was designed for William Harry Brown, banker and heir to a shipping empire, by Alden & Harlow, Andrew Carnegie’s favorite architects. It was built in 1898.
With ancient trees and artistic landscapes, cemeteries are very good places to enjoy the delights of fall.
A strange Egyptian gateway to nowhere, made of rich polished stone and bronze. It probably dates from about 1927, when Alfred Reed Hamilton was buried in this plot.
A unique Victorian interpretation of the Baroque style—unique in Pittsburgh, at any rate, as far as old Pa Pitt knows. The date of the mausoleum is 1874, which is the year of the first interment there.
The front probably had bronze doors, now stolen. This plaque, however, should last a good long time. It records that the first interment was David C. Steen, who died the year the mausoleum was built (according to the date over the door). He was probably the son of David and Mary Dickson Steen, who may have built this extravagant vault in mourning for their 21-year-old son.
It would be interesting to know how the Reeds and the rest came to be in this vault.
These were families who were no strangers to tragedy. Of eleven names recorded here, six—a majority—died before the age of thirty.
A fine zinc monument with only one panel inscribed, for Caroline Grimm. She died in middle age; perhaps her husband remarried and is buried elsewhere. As is usually the case with zinc monuments, it looks almost as fresh as the day it was erected.
This is the Lillian Russell who was widely considered the most beautiful woman in the world in the late 1800s and into the 1900s. Her fourth and last husband was Alexander Pollock Moore, who owned the Leader in Pittsburgh. When she died unexpectedly in 1922, he gave her this tiny but tasteful mausoleum; he was buried with her later, but her name is the one above the columns, and the epitaph is hers: “The world is better for her having lived.”
Mrs. Moore’s opinion as “Immigration Inspector” was that Europe was sending us its worthless dregs; she is sometimes blamed for the restrictive immigration policies that followed, but it is very likely that the Harding administration appointed her to reinforce and not to create anti-immigrant prejudice. She injured herself in a very minor way on the trip back, but died unexpectedly from complications.
The initials of both residents are rendered in bronze on the doors.
The simple stained glass has suffered some damage, which should be fairly easy to repair.