Cemetary Pine

The College Trustees formally designated the Dartmouth Cemetery as a burial ground in 1774, three years after the acre being set aside in the original Survey of Hanover. John King Lord, in his History of the Town of Hanover, wrote that “The graveyard on the College Plain comprised an acre of level land, set apart in the original Survey of the village in 1771 and formally sequestered by the College Trustees in 1774 for a burying ground for use of the College and the inhabitants of the vicinity.” Though no one has been buried here in quite a while, the cemetery and its looming pines like the one in front of you are a living remnant of Dartmouth’s early planning and development.

A letter, written by Sarah Olcott Porter Brinley during the summer of 1821 and quoted in the Life of William.T. Porter, described the cemetery as follows: “It was of the genuine New England pilgrim stamp, its monumental tombs and graves abandoned to weeds and nettles and relentless gloom; enclosed by a plain board fence stained with the damp and molds of time; hemmed in and choked up by the high grass, rank shrubs and matted ivy which rambled over it. A few stunted trees were scattered here and there, but these were shriveled into lifeless skeletons, as if unable to resist the inexorable destiny written everything about them. The situation of the old burial place, however, was beautiful upon the verge of a deep gorge between two hills lined with a thick growth of young forest trees. At this day the spot has participated in the general spirit of improvement of burial places throughout New England and is not only embosomed soft in trees but includes within its limits the wooded gorge which already enshrines within its shaded depths the sleeping dust of inestimable worth and virtue.” (DAM) Whether the cemetery was completely cleared during its original founding is unclear, but 40 years after, the gorge between the two hills had a thicket of young forest trees. 

In 1952, Arthur Chivers ‘02 wrote about the cemetery pines in the Dartmouth Alumni Magazine. He writes that “The old-growth pines, scattered through the cemetery, must not be forgotten. Many visitors comment favorably on their beauty and dignity. One of these trees, taken down several years ago, was more than 100 feet in height and showed approximately 125 growth rings. It is not improbable that at least some of these old sentinels are Mrs. Brinley's ‘young forest trees’ of 1821. If so, they have resisted the elements for 130 years. They gave a good account of themselves during the hurricane of 1938, but they are badly in need of care. Dead limbs and stubs of broken limbs high above the ground are a menace to the health of the trees and to the stones beneath. Well cared for, these old-growth pines should endure for many years.” 

Chivers comments on the contrast between the “dead limbs and stubs of broken limbs” and the “beauty and dignity “of the old-growth pines just as Olcott Porter Brinley comments on the “relentless gloom” in contrast with the “general spirit of improvement… not only embosomed soft in trees but include[ing] within its limits the wooded gorge… of inestimable worth and virtue” (DAM). Nowadays, the trees are much more well cared for, with the dead limbs trimmed to allow for a much more inviting walk through the grounds, as one might do to briefly get away from campus life in the old woos. The cemetery is and has historically been a place balancing death and life along with the gloom and hope of Dartmouth’s trees.

Chivers, Arthur H. The Old Dartmouth Burying Ground. Dartmouth Alumni Magazine. February 1st 1952.