Pittsburgh Cemeteries

The Art and Architecture of Death

St. Mary’s Cemetery

The most prestigious Catholic cemetery in the city. This is where the earthly remains of bishops rest.


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Frauenheim family plot

Though old Pa Pitt tends to focus on individual monuments, there is an art to arranging a family plot. This one is arranged very artistically. Everything is made from the same stone, which is dark now, although that may be the result of a century and a half of heavy industry. A large Gothic monument dominates it in the rear, so that the family has no trouble finding the plot. Stone steps—superfluous from a practical point of view now, but there was probably a stone fence around the plot before the groundskeepers had their way—lead us up into the sacred precinct. There the Frauenheims lie in a row in their own matched beds. The earliest burial here seems to be Edward Frauenheim, who died in 1891, and that may be a good guess for the date of the main monument.

Donnelly vault

One of the most picturesquely mysterious-looking structures in the city of Pittsburgh: we can imagine it as the setting for an atmospheric scene in an old-fashioned Universal horror movie.

This must have been one of the earliest interments in the cemetery, which opened in 1849, the year Henry Donnelly died. It is perhaps the most striking in-ground mausoleum in Pittsburgh. In the early and middle nineteenth century, these mausoleums cut into a hillside were the usual resting places of the rich; they are most often referred to as “mausoleums,” but sometimes as “vaults,” and perhaps it would be best to use that term, reserving “mausoleum” for a free-standing building. They fell out of favor by the 1870s or so, and proper mausoleums came into fashion.

Left inscription

Right inscription

Leopold Vilsack mausoleum

Leopold Vilsack was an early partner in Iron City Brewing, a wise investment that earned him this extravagant Romanesque mausoleum.

Leopold Vilsack mausoleum

Landscape, St. Mary’s Cemetery

Autumn landscapes in St. Mary’s Cemetery, Lawrenceville.

St. Mary’s Cemetery

St. Mary’s Cemetery

A big urn on a towering shaft seems like a mixed metaphor, but it certainly makes the Kloman plot easy to find. It was probably put up in about 1879, when the first Kloman buried here died. There is generous space on the base for inscriptions, but nothing has ever been inscribed.

One of the most elegant Ionic mausoleums in the city, this one is notable for its perfectly balanced classical details and its tastefully ornate bronze doors.

It is common in Catholic cemeteries to see a monument that in all other respects would be called an obelisk, but that terminates in a cross instead of a point. Obelisks in Catholic cemeteries are seldom left without some Christianizing symbol to exorcise the demons of paganism. This one was probably put up in 1874, when Martin Connolly died.

A striking monument from about 1879 (when the first Glockner in this plot died), with the slightly chunky-looking details typical of the era.

Well, here is an interesting little mystery. There is some story behind this triple monument, but old Pa Pitt has not been able to unravel it. His usually fruitful speculative imagination has failed him. If anyone knows the real story of the monument, a comment below would be very welcome.

This triple monument commemorates three people named Barrett. Hannah Barrett died in 1864 at the age of 25; William Barrett died in 1868 at the age of 24; and Dennis Barrett hasn’t died yet. Well, clearly he has, since we have not heard of any 150-year-old Barretts roaming the earth; but his death date has never been filled in.

Now, who were these people? It is not impossible that William and Hannah were husband and wife, though she was five years older than he was, and he would have been only twenty when she died. The position of the stones seems to make that unlikely, however. Hannah takes precedence—again, not impossible, but every nineteenth-century instinct would have made a husband and wife’s monuments equal, or the husband’s the central and higher one. And who was Dennis? A son? A father?

It seems more likely that they were brother and sister, Hannah taking precedence because she was the elder. And then who is Dennis? Was he another brother who was still alive when the monument was bought? One can imagine the conversation with the monument salesman: “You have that other son, too, right? What’s his name—Dennis? He’s coming up on twenty now, and the way your family’s going you’ll need a stone for him in four or five years. It happens we’re having a three-for-the-price-of-two special this week only, so…”

If Dennis was a brother who lived a long life afterwards, it would explain why his stone was never filled in. He might well have married, fathered children, and been buried in his own family plot fifty or sixty years later, possibly in another part of the country.

One final question: When was the stone bought? Father Pitt’s eye for cemetery styles suggests that it’s more likely to have been in 1868, when William died, than in 1864, when Hannah died. Did Hannah go without a marker for her grave for four years? Or did the family purchase a monument for all three when Hannah died, on the principle that everybody’s got to go sometime?