Chapel of the Cross Cemetery

This is Chapter Two of my story featuring a little country church in Madison County, Mississippi, called The Chapel of the Cross. If you missed Chapter One, I suggest you click on the link and read it before you read this post.

When I visited the Chapel last week, the sun broke through the clouds as I entered the churchyard, and I was able to capture several pictures with blue skies as a background.

But the blue skies didn't last long and by the time I visited the Chapel cemetery, its huge old magnolias, cedars, and oaks cast shadows over the gravestones.

The Johnstone family graveyard is enclosed within a beautiful ornate iron fence, and you enter through a gate with an iron arch over it.

The final resting place of Helen's beloved Henry lies in the Johnstone plot, his gravestones embraced by the twisted roots of a centuries-old magnolia tree.

The graves of Helen's parents, Margaret and John Johnstone, are beside Henry's grave ...

The oldest monument I found in the cemetery (and the most beautiful, in my opinion) is the marker for James Burroughs Yellowley.

I googled James Yellowley and discovered that he was the founder of what was to become the city of Ridgeland, Mississippi, which is a suburb of Jackson.

It is amazing what you can discover from people's grave markers about the lives they led.

This marker is for S.A.D. Greaves and his wife, Sarah Lowe Greaves.

Upon researching S.A.D. Greaves, I came across some genealogy records and discovered what I think is an interesting story about Mr. Greaves.

Stephen Arne Decatur Greaves was born January 30, 1817, in Sumter, South Carolina, and died November 17, 1880 in Madison County, Mississippi. He served as a lieutenant during the Mexican War, and after the war, he married a rich widow, Sarah Lowe. They lived on her plantation, "Sunnyside," in Livingston, Madison County, MS — and lived lavishly, by all accounts. It seems that Mr. Greaves changed clothes completely for each meal, had 90 pairs of hand-made boots, and was spared complete destruction of the property by Sherman's forces because of his war record.

Here are a few more markers and stones that caught my attention as I walked around the cemetery:

I love to read epitaphs on cemetery markers, and noticed two, in particular.

To angel form thy spirit's grown,
Thy God hath claimed thee as His own;
In Paradise thou sharest bliss,
Ne'er to be found in worlds like this.

The next epitaph was engraved on the base of the large cross shown in the following picture. Unfortunately, I overlooked getting the name of the person buried there.

And with the morn those angel faces smile,
Which I have loved long since and lost awhile.

I have always admired the lovely little Chapel of the Cross from a distance, but in the short time I spent there that Spring afternoon, I loved seeing it up close through the lens of my camera.

I was not only awed by its physical beauty, but was also reminded of its history and the story of its endurance and survival.

May those who brought it to life almost 160 years ago rest in peace in that beautiful little cemetery, knowing that their legacy lives on ... in the sermons and hymns and prayers and fellowship enjoyed today by the parishioners at The Chapel of the Cross.

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The following is a slideshow presentation I created featuring a few of the pictures I captured of the Chapel and the Cemetery. To view it, click on the arrow and be sure your sound is turned on.

The Chapel of the Cross

There is a little Episcopal country church in Madison County, Mississippi, called The Chapel of the Cross. The church building itself is as beautiful as its name, and it is widely recognized as one of the finest examples of Nineteenth Century Gothic Revival church architecture in the United States.

The chapel began as a vision of John Johnstone, a wealthy plantation owner in Madison County during the early 1800s, as a house of worship for his family and their servants. Sadly, Mr. Johnstone died before his vision became a reality. Upon his death in 1848, his wife, Margaret Johnstone, brought his dream to life with "the help of slave labor, hired artisans, grim determination, and three thousand dollars."

Although very few records relating to the construction of the church survived, it is commonly believed by architectural scholars that English-born architect Frank Wills designed the Chapel of the Cross for Margaret Johnstone.

The bricks, which would ultimately make the chapel's walls two feet thick, were "river bottom" brick, cast on-site from area clay, and were instrumental in the building surviving the ravages of war and time.

Margaret deeded the church and 10 acres to the Episcopal Diocese of Mississippi in 1851, and the Chapel of the Cross was consecrated in 1852. Its original parishioners were Margaret Johnstone, her youngest daughter Helen, the family of her elder daughter Frances Britton, and the servants of the two plantations which housed both families, Annandale and Ingleside.

One of the most interesting stories from the Chapel's history is the heartrending love story of Helen Johnstone and Henry Grey Vick, a wealthy planter from Nitta Yuma, Mississippi. I read many accounts of Helen's and Henry's story, and the following is a composite taken from several sources, including an article from the Chapel's website, History of The Chapel of the Cross, and a story from the web pages of The New Southern View Ezine. As far as I can ascertain, it is an accurate presentation. Their story began around Christmastime in 1855, when an attractive stranger, Henry Grey Vick, a descendant of the founder of Vicksburg, appeared at Annandale Plantation to request help to repair a broken wheel on his carriage. Henry dined with the Johnstone ladies that evening, and before leaving the next morning, he and Helen were in love. Henry returned often, and in 1857, the two were promised to be married. However, Margaret, a widow, was not ready to give up her youngest daughter, and insisted that the young couple wait until Helen was twenty. Henry and Helen agreed to wait, and the wedding was scheduled for May 21, 1859, which was Helen's birthday. As Fate would have it, four days before the wedding, the headstrong Vick met his death on the traditional field of honor — the dueling ground. Grief stricken beyond consolation, Helen led a torchlit procession — on the day her wedding was to have taken place (also her birthday) — from Annandale Plantation to the Chapel, where Vick was laid to rest in the family graveyard. While Helen would later wed George Harris, who ultimately served as rector of the church on three different occasions, there are those who say her heart never totally mended from the shock of her fiancé's sudden death. The story of Helen's and Henry's ill-fated love became known as the legend of "The Bride of Annandale," and will forever remain part of the church's history. But Helen's story doesn't end there. In August 1862, three years after Henry’s death, Helen Johnstone married George Harris, a Confederate chaplain. He served as clergyman for the Chapel of the Cross for years and during the course of their marriage, Helen and George moved several times following his service as Rector. They had three children, and Helen spent her life with George caring for their children and assisting him in the church. In 1896, the Harrises built their "retirement house" on some land Helen had inherited in the Mississippi Delta, near Rolling Fork, Mississippi. The original house was destroyed by fire almost immediately after it was completed, but Helen and George rebuilt another one on an Indian Mound located on the property, and called it Mont Helena. I have photographed Mont Helena on several different occasions and never cease to be awed by its beauty ... George died in 1911, but Helen continued to live at Mont Helena until her death in 1917. They are both buried in Mound Cemetery in Rolling Fork.

In 1861, a couple of years after Henry's death, the glory days of plantation life faded with the coming of the War Between the States, and the ensuing destruction and poverty took its toll on the little chapel. According to information I found on the church's website, "for the next 40 years, The Chapel of the Cross would alternate between being an active church and an abandoned, neglected house of worship until the church was declared extinct by the Diocese of Mississippi, shortly after the turn of the century.

The church found new life in 1911, when Margaret Britton Parsons, a granddaughter of John and Margaret Johnstone, persuaded the Diocese to reactivate the Chapel as an active house of worship.

In 1956, an accurate restoration of the chapel was begun, and in 1979, the United States Department of the Interior awarded the chapel a $50,000 matching grant to finish the restoration the church to its original antebellum appearance.

From its humble beginnings as the vision of one man ... and his wife's love and determination to bring his dream to life ... the Chapel of the Cross has become a significant house of worship, both historically and architecturally. It is listed on the National Register of Historic Places, and currently hosts four worship services on Sundays.

I had the privilege of visiting the Chapel last week, and would like to share some of the pictures I captured of the church and the beautiful little cemetery behind it.

As I entered the churchyard, the sun broke through the clouds and I was pleased to have a few minutes of pretty blue skies as a background for my pictures.

The original chapel bell, the bell which tolled the death knell for the fallen Henry Vick, was melted down for Confederate ammunition.

Since this has turned into a rather wordy and lengthy story, I am going to save my visit to the Chapel cemetery for tomorrow. I hope you will join me.

A Little Country Church

I recently visited this lovely little country church in Madison County, Mississippi. Next week I will share the pictures I captured of the church and the beautiful little cemetery behind it, and also share a story from its antebellum days. I hope you will join me next week ... but, until then, best wishes to you for a very nice first day of April, and a beautiful Spring weekend.

The Joy of Jonquils

I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host, of golden [jonquils]; Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. — William Wordsworth

Last summer, we bought a five-acre lot on a lake in Madison County, Mississippi, and are planning to build a house on it. At the time we bought the lot, it looked like this ...

During the late fall and winter, we were busy with other things, and didn't make too many trips to the land. So, you can imagine my surprise last weekend when we drove up and saw this ...

Those are yellow Jonquils, and there are thousands of them covering our lot. Literally, everywhere I looked and everywhere I stepped, there were little clumps of flowers and bulbs poking through the leaves ...

I even saw a clump of Narcissus and, needless to say, I was thrilled!

Years ago, the land where our lot is located was part of Cameron Plantation, one of the largest plantations around, so I can't help but think that there may have been a home site there back in those days.

I plan to check the Madison County chancery clerk's records to trace the land ownership back to the days of the plantation in hopes of learning about its history. My imagination runs away with me, conjuring up visions of a Scarlett O'Hara strolling in her gardens gathering Jonquils for an early Spring bouquet.

And even though our house is not going to look like Tara, I know we are going to spend many happy years in it ... and I will always wonder about the house that may have been there before, and the people who lived in it.

And every Spring, I will smile and silently thank the southern lady or gentleman who planted those first Jonquil bulbs so long ago.