December 10, 2009

Robert Emlen Al Lees

Department of American Civilization M.A. Candidate
AMCV 1250b Public Humanities and
Gravestones and Burial Grounds Cultural Heritage
Brown University
Providence, Rhode Island

The Commons Burial Ground, Little Compton, Rhode Island:

A Material Investigation

Early New England gravestones are among the most studied of colonial artifacts.
Since James Deetz and Edwin Dethlefsen recognized in the early 1960’s that mortuary art
provides scholars with a unique investigative opportunity, historians, archaeologists and
folklorists, among others, have studied and attempted to interpret gravestones, especially
colonial and post-colonial New England examples, as a way of gaining access into the
cultural and social practices of those who produced and acquired them. Gravestones are
set in time and place; they have definable conformations, and, in most instances, are
grouped together in a large enough collection for investigators to discern patterns of
thought and activity. Produced by literate people, mortuary art, juxtaposed with other
material and documentary evidence from the same time period, enables us to develop a
richer sense of the past. However, the study of mortuary art found in colonial New
England burial grounds is not the exclusive domain of the scholar, but for all who look to
the past for their inspiration.
Burial grounds are about people, those interred and those who mourn. They are
also for the curious, who wander through rows of ancient stones, absorbing the sense of
antiquity and permanence that the experience conjures, and for the educators, who use
these accidental “public museums” as interpretive gateways for learning. More than one’s
final resting place, or the scholar’s laboratory, colonial burial grounds are important
windows to the past, where one can come into contact with history in tangible ways. As
Marjorie O”Toole, director of the Little Compton (RI) Historical Society stated, the
town’s burial ground is “its most important asset.” 1 The abundance of 18th and early 19th
century gravestones at what was once a fringe outpost on the Massachusetts-Rhode Island
border is an uncommon opportunity to trace the development of colonial religious and
social thought beyond the influence of rigid orthodoxy.
I will argue that geographic, environmental, and social factors forced a
decoupling from strict Puritanism in Little Compton, which allowed for more rapid
ideological develop than their contemporaries who lived closer to Boston and Plymouth
and that this coincides with John Stevens’ arrival in Newport in 1705. This study will
loosely follow Deetz and Dethlefson’s methodology, as articulated in a paper presented
to the Society of American Archaeology2, by relating Little Compton’s historicity to its
gravestone iconography, carving techniques and placing it in context with their study of
burial grounds in Cambridge, Concord, and Plymouth. While one goal is academic, the
ultimate purpose of this paper is to help connect the casual observer and lifetime learners
alike with colonial history as viewed through the lens of the Commons Burial Ground.
Let us begin by placing colonial Little Compton in context, from just after King
Phillip’s War until 1749, when it officially became part of Rhode Island. This admittedly
brief introduction will give the reader an opportunity to envision some of the social,
political, economic, religious influences that affected those who are the subjects of this
research. Next, will be a discussion of how colonial New England viewed death, and
articulated it through the commonly recognized motifs found in all colonial New England
graveyards. Lastly, this study will present evidence gathered from the Commons Burial
Ground, place it in context with Cambridge, Concord and Plymouth Massachusetts, and
offer possible reasons for their similarities and dissimilarities.
What makes the study of colonial gravestones so compelling? Paraphrasing Deetz
and Dethlefsen, and suggesting others, the following possibilities are that:
• Because there were no professional stone carvers in the early colonial period, they
are true folk objects. (This statement is not absolutely true, for the John Stevens
1 Conversation with Marjorie O’Toole, Little Compton, Rhode Island, October 2009.
2 Dethlefsen, Edwin and James Deetz. “Death's Heads, Cherubs, and Willow Trees: Experimental
Archaeology in Colonial Cemeteries, ”American Antiquity, Vol. 31, No. 4 (Apr., 1966), pp. 502-510.
http://www.jstor.org/stable/2694382

2
 and John Bull shops in Newport Rhode Island were, and are professional stone
carving houses. Nevertheless, their evidence suggests that, in many instances this
was the case throughout New England.)
• Gravestones, by their very function carry with them a chronology. They are dated,
and in most instances identify the age of the person interred, which can provide
the researcher with valuable demographic information. This chronology also
allows one to view with certainty changing material and decorative patterns over
time.
• Most epitaphs are accompanied by relationship information, a valuable source of
information for the genealogist.
• The distinctive symbology found on colonial gravestones are in part religious
which provide clues as to how religious attitudes changed in relation to other
social and cultural aspects.
• It is possible to trace family affiliation over time through designs employed as
well as through burial patterns within the grounds.

Little Compton, Rhode Island: A Brief Look at the first Years.3

Colonel Benjamin Church and other English adventurers first settled Little Compton
Rhode Island at the time of King Philip’s War (1675-1676) although it was not fully
incorporated as part of the Plymouth (Massachusetts) colony until 1682. As a secondary
phase of the “Old Dartmouth purchase” of 1652, portions of what is now Little Compton
were connected geographically, culturally and legally with Puritan Massachusetts;
however it would take another 20 years before the first recorded deed transfer of land in
the western portion of the town was recorded. This neck of land, at the absolute fringe of
“civilization,” was the land of the Sakonnets, led by their squaw-sachem Awashonks.
Virtually inaccessible by any route other than narrow Indian trails or by sea around Cape
Cod, what would become known as Little Compton was the last portion of Southeastern
Massachusetts to be sold by native people to the English. After a brief interlude of epic
proportion during the so-called King Philip’s War, where many Sakonnets fought

3I am indebted to the work of Janet Lisle who so succinctly placed the early history of Little Compton
Rhode Island in context.
3
valiantly at the side of the English, most notably Benjamin Church, settlement continued
slowly, then unabatedly into the 18th century.
Puritans these newcomers were, by birth and affiliation, but they were not ideologues
in that they did not come to this land to proselytize the native population or to escape the
rigid dogma associated with Boston and, to a lesser degree, Plymouth Puritanism. In fact,
Church and the others appear to have had, if not a close relationship with, at least a
cordial one with the Sakonnets. It was also an era of great flux, when time was running
out for native control of the land. By 1676, Philip was dead and hundreds, if not
thousands of native people were either bonded and transported into slavery or diminished
to the point of poverty and servitude. This dark time in colonial history also coincides
with an ever-increasing English appetite for land, as waves of immigrants arrived on the
shores of New England seeking religious and economic freedom. To satisfy these
newcomers, as they were called, Plymouth officials continued to look west. The “Old
Dartmouth purchase” incorporated the lands as far West as the present towns of Westport
and portions of Little Compton, as well as nearby Tiverton. Sakonnet, hard against the
Sakonnet River across from the Rhode Island settlements of Portsmouth and Newport,
was the last piece to be purchased.
Pressured by the expansive mood of the unnerving dissidents in Rhode Island, and
from many of the proprietors who could see economic opportunity, it was time to make a
move. In 1682, portions of Sakonnet were officially incorporated, by royal decree, into
the Plymouth colony, and by the late 1690’s most of the remaining native land had been
sold to the English. Little Compton, as it was now known would remain in legal if not
actual control of Plymouth colony until 1749 when it was annexed by neighboring Rhode
Island.
Prior to this official act; however, the activity of settlement had begun in earnest. In
March of 1677, the proprietors met in Duxbury to select a town center. By May a
committee comprised of Captain William Southworth, Captain Benjamin Church,
Nathaniel Thomas and William Pabodie were appointed to divide the village into house
lots, with the further mandate of setting aside land in to accommodate a burial ground, a
“fenced pound, and a “meeting house.”4 Although actual construction of these
4 Lisle, Janet, from an as yet unpublished manuscript, 40.
4
“amenities” would not occur until the early 1690’s there was most certainly optimism for
the town’s eventual success.
Small steadings materialized in the newly purchased area, and a sense of normalcy
prevailed, as new English families moved in, first among them some of the original
purchasers and later families from Aquidneck Island just across the river. They worked
hard, clearing the land and establishing homes and farms. This was, after all, to become a
rural agricultural community. Blessed with arable land, at least in the central and western
portions of the town, much of it was put to use grazing livestock and growing agricultural
crops, for personal consumption as well as a means of income. Native people posed little
or no threat by now. The few that remained were, like most of New England’s native
population, confined to fewer and smaller parcels of land, relying on work as wage
laborers for the newcomers. Life began settling into a routine of sorts in a place that was
rapidly becoming less of a frontier town and more of a member of the prevailing colonial
society. Which colonial society; however, was a question posed by the Plymouth court,
who appear to have grave concerns over Little Compton’s independent spirit.
In 1682, a court order from Plymouth was issued to Joseph Church to command the
town to accept “ colony oversight for local policing of community morals, for religious
worship for the election of representatives to Court and the levying of taxes and fines to
the colony.”5 Was this order was simply a next step in the development of Puritan
governmental oversight over newly established towns, or might it be a nervousness on the
part of officials who viewed this new town as a dangerous mix of frontier independence
and dissident ideology? Author Janet Lisle gives a particularly good account of the
Puritan activities in “A Town With a Mind of Its Own.” Her contention is that Plymouth
was most galled by the town’s slowness to organize as a formal church community (read
Puritan church.) In addition, no pastor was chosen during the town’s early years, and
those itinerant preachers sent by Plymouth officials were not paid by townspeople until
tremendous pressure was placed on them. In secular matters, the town defied authority.
Given their distance from Plymouth, Little Comptoners regularly took matters into their
own hands, including their reluctance or outright refusal to pay taxes levied by

5 Ibid., 45.
5
Plymouth.6 This does not, I believe, complete the narrative. As much as Plymouth
officials wanted to exert their authority over their brethren, social forces largely based on
personal convictions of independence and the proximity to liberal Rhode Island, only a
half-day’s sail away, conspired to decouple the residents of the town from their legal and
theological overseers. Newport was developing as the political, economic and cultural
center of Rhode Island and Little Compton farmers were uniquely situated to prosper
from and be influenced by this burgeoning cosmopolitan city.
The second wave of Little Compton settlers came primarily from Aquidneck Island.
Anne Hutchinson, whose blasphemous “ramblings” moved Puritan authorities to force
she and her followers out of Massachusetts and onto Aquidneck Island, had to have
influenced the town’s culture. This combination of theologically liberal newcomers, and
the no nonsense, independently minded spirit of Little Compton Puritans must have
created a toxic blend of social and cultural intermingling that was intolerable even to the
relatively liberal Plymouth Puritans. However, not all who came from Aquidneck Island
were from Portsmouth, or followers of Hutchinson. At the other end of the island was the
developing commercial and intellectual center of Newport, Rhode Island. Blessed with
deep water that spawned its commercial activity and relative geographic isolation from
the other New England colonies, it became fertile ground for the socially, culturally, and
ethnically diverse. Quakers, Jews, and Blacks shared the streets with merchants, Puritans
and every one in-between in a freewheeling space that could not have been beyond the
notice of Little Compton farmers who would logically have transported their goods to the
nearest and most profitable market town. Whatever cultural isolation the town might have
afforded them, once the farmers were within the orbit of Newport, the very environment
would have offered them a worldview unlike that they were used to.
Newport was abuzz with activity, especially along the breadth of Thames Street
and the docks, which was not only its commercial center, but also the center of
information from across the Atlantic world. Without land based natural resources,
Newporters turned to the sea, opening the doors of the world to this small corner of
colonial America. When the Little Compton sloops set sail for Newport, they carried
more than goods, but also families and friends who “hitched a ride.” This opportunity to
6 Ibid.,47-49
6
socialize beyond the confines of the town inevitably exposed them to a sophistication of
thought not generally available to their contemporaries within the Plymouth colony.
Though Newport was a fledgling outpost in the early 18th century, by the mid 1700’s it
rivaled Boston as a commercial and intellectual center. The exposure to various
ideologies, the emerging decorative arts scene typified by Townsend, Goddard and John
Stevens, and the expansive commercialism centered on the Triangle trade, among a host
of other “temptations” must have been seductive and intoxicating. Little Comptoners
were geographically and culturally placed squarely between two opposing tensions of
rigid, controlling Puritanism and the more intellectually expansive and freewheeling
space of Newport County. How they may have resolved this tension, as viewed through
the lens of death, follows.

The Evidence:

Our attention will now focus on the material evidence found in the Commons Burial
Ground, a tree framed west-facing
plot of land adjacent to a classically
appointed Congregational church
(1832). The setting is quintessential
New England suggestive of Puritan
aesthetics; the town green, with the
governing church at its head
overseeing its congregation either
living in the homes flanking the green or in the adjacent burial yard to the West. It is said
that Little Compton Commons is the only town in Rhode Island with a town green,
linking the town to its Puritan heritage and creating a “defensive barrier” against the
independent and “radical” religious beliefs of the nearby Rhode Island colony. What is
visually striking about this burial ground is the juxtaposition of the slate tripartite
gravestones clusters with the more subdued memorial aesthetic of the 19th and 20th
centuries, something that could provide future researchers with an uncommon
opportunity to study the 300-year progression of memorialization in New England.
In total, over 200 photographs from two collections were analyzed, the larger of the
7
two generously donated by Vincent Luti, who spent 30 years exhaustively researching
and writing about the gravestone carvings of Newport County in the 18th century, and the
second from the private collection of local photographer, Cindy West. Each photograph
was analyzed based on the form, motif design, particularly the effigies, and typography
and textual references. At this juncture, no attempt was made to analyze either border
designs or material composition, although further study of this is warranted and could
provide further clues into the cultural patterns of belief. A relational database was created
and all of the relevant information extracted from the gravestones was deconstructed,
quantified, and entered in blocks of 10-year spans of time. Given the relatively rapid
social changes present during the late 17th and early 18th centuries, dividing the
information in this manner seemed the most appropriate method to detect patterns of
change over time.
The date range of all sample gravestones is from 1698 to 1824, although only two
legible extant examples prior to 1700 and twelve examples between 1800 and 1824 exist,
leaving a total of one hundred and eighty two 18th century gravestones. Due to
environmental and human effects, not all of the samples were able to be fully analyzed
which skew some of the final totals; however, this will not significantly alter any
categorical analysis.

Age and Gender by Decade - Little Compton

Femal Female<1
Male e Male<14 4 Total/Yr
Before 1700 2 0 0 0 2
1700-1709 4 6 1 2 13
1710-1719 10 11 2 3 26
1720-1729 3 4 2 0 9
1730-1739 5 8 1 0 14
1740-1749 10 5 1 2 18
1750-1759 8 7 2 1 18
1760-1769 11 6 1 2 20
1770-1779 12 15 2 5 34
1780-1789 2 7 1 0 10
1790-1799 7 8 0 0 15
1800-1809 4 5 0 1 10
1810-1819 1 0 0 1 2
Over 1820 0 2 0 0 2
Total/Gender 79 84 13 17

8
 During the span of time surveyed, seventy nine men (1698-1816), eighty four women
(1700-1824), thirteen male children fourteen years of age or less (1706-1781) and
nineteen female children fourteen years of age or less (1705-1819) were buried in the
grounds. Deconstruction of these aggregate numbers reveals patterns of death amongst
the four groups. (Detailed tables can be found in the Appendix I Tables 1-3.) For
example:

• For the entire subject period, 27% (22) of males died before the age of forty as
compared with 39% (30) of women. Disease and complications from childbirth
are two possible explanations why this is so.
• Of those adults under the age of forty who died, 20% of all women and 27% of all
men died during the 1710’s and 13.5% of all men and 17% of all women died in
the 1750’s.
• Slightly more than half of male children died before 1730 and except for three
deaths of male children between the ages of 8-14 during the 1750’s decade, only
one additional death occurred during the subject period.
• Female children’s deaths are distributed slightly more evenly, although the 1710-
decade and particularly the 1770’s decade stand out and coincide with male
children’s deaths, giving credence to the idea that Little Compton was struck by
an epidemic.
• Only two male children died after 1769, and none after 1789. Female children did
not fair as well. Noteworthy are that six lost their lives in during the 1770’s;
however, only two deaths are known after this time. Possible explanations are the
availability of better nutrition in Little Compton and the proximity of better and
more advanced medical care.
• Only 7% (6) of the entire male population buried at the commons died between
the ages of forty and fifty-nine. 53% (43) lived to old age (60 and older).
Women’s deaths were a bit more evenly distributed, with 22% (17) dying
between the ages of forty and sixty and 39% (30) living into old age.

Studying patterns of death by age and gender offer researchers valuable clues that

9
could lead to further study on subjects such as the causality of death, familial
involvement with disease and death, or conversely improvements in nutrition and medical
care. For example, from the material evidence we know that John and Mary Wood lost
six of their seven children in 1712, certainly from disease. This is important in two ways;
it provides clues to an abnormality within the Little Compton community and it also
skews the distribution of data. How might one’s research conclusions alter if this
information is factored into the total number of children’s deaths? Were the early decades
of the 18th century more hospitable to children than currently supposed? It is beyond the
scope of this paper to deviate into these subject areas; however it illustrates how even the
most basic analysis of gravestone carving can lead into unforeseen areas of investigation.
Our interest is to investigate how the material evidence reflects the social and theological
attitudes of the Little Compton during the 18th and early 19th century.

Stylization:

For the period 1698 until 1824, five distinct styles of gravestone motifs present
themselves for investigation at the Commons Burial Ground. Where Deetz and
Dethlefsen identified three universal styles (death’s head, cherub, and willows) and
James Hijiya offers us plain style as a fourth alternative, Little Compton features a fifth
style, that of tombstone and tablet. One other style, or lack thereof, that randomly appears
is the fieldstone marker with no inscription. While this study does not take these into
account, their very existence represents a cultural belief; one that, while ignored, should
be recognized. This is not to say that the three universal styles are not dominant in our
survey. as they were in Deetz study; it is that they are not the only stylistic
representations of mortuary art during this period. Having said this, by the 1710’s the
plain and the tombstone styles are extinct, save for an extension of the Church family’s
apparent pleasure of being entombed, and the plain style exists as a temporal and formal
exception. We begin our investigation with the one extant example of the Plain style
found in the Commons.

Plain Style:

The plain style is the earliest known colonial gravestone carving generally
10
associated with the mid to late 17th century. Though its use is not known for certain,
economic and/or theological reasons are usually given as explanations for its existence.
The economic argument is fairly obvious; colonists with little money were inclined to
create their own memorials by scratching crude letters into a plain stone. Although not
exhibiting the elegance of later styles crafted by competent carvers, they nevertheless
serve to locate and memorialize the deceased in the best way the family is capable of.
The other more intriguing suggestion for this style is theological.
One strand of 17th century theological thought centered on the insignificance of
man. “In comparison to God,” writes James Hijiya, “man was a piece of valiant dust.”7
Innumerable sermons from the pulpit by Puritan ministers bent on controlling the beliefs
of their parishioners, constantly reminded them of their lowly and humble worldly status
and their sinful ways. Insofar as this belief was internalized, it is possible that plain
gravestones, or no gravestone at all was an expression of this belief. Another idea for the
plain style, suggested by Hijiya, is the tenet that one’s soul, and not their body, is of
importance. Thus, a person’s remains were merely “deposited” with no need to make any
statement other than where they were buried. And yet a third explanation is that from the
Middle Ages until the Early Modern period, Europeans had a calm, almost absent-minded
attitude towards death. Death was a natural way of living, an unremarkable event.8
The only extant
example of this style found in
our samples is that of Mary
Clap (1740). Only 1 year old
when she died, her remains
are buried beneath a classic
plain style gravestone. This is
unusual and post-dates by
almost forty years the end of
its era and the beginning of Mary Clap 1740

7 Hijiya, James. “American Gravestones and Attitudes toward Death: A Brief History” Proceedings of the
American Philosophical Society, Vol. 127, No. 5 (Oct. 14, 1983), p. 342,
http://www.jstor.org/stable/986503.
8 Ibid., 343

11
the deaths head reign. Nevertheless, there it is sitting amongst images that long ago
turned their backs on Puritan darkness towards the “New Light” of the Great Awakening.
The only reasonable explanation for this style to exist is economic. Professional carvers
were available in the area by this time and religious beliefs were well established. The
rough face of the stone, the simple top, and the scratch carving all suggest that the Clap’s
had little means to pay for more. This is a reminder to us that stylistic change does not
always flow in a linear progression.

Tombstone tablet:
A second variant from the three universally accepted gravestone motifs of 18th
century New England is the tombstone tablet. By placing a solid sheet of stone on top of
a person’s mortal remains, one makes a statement in form and language; its size creating
an immortal presence for the interred. Tablets are material embodiments of status, power
and wealth. The seven examples at the Commons burial ground are all from one extended
family. Benjamin and Alice Church, famed Ranger and early settlers of Little Compton,
their children and grandchildren, and William and Rebekah Southworth, original
proprietors of the Old Dartmouth and Little Compton purchases, and the mother and
father of Alice Church. Through deeds and position, both patriarchs were men of status
and power, not only within the Little Compton community but also in the greater orbit of
New England society. That they chose, in death, to reflect this through entombment
makes a statement of their own self-importance and their desire to convey their legacy.
What is striking is the absence, or at least diminishment, of religious iconography.
The epitaph on the Southworth tablet is enclosed by a round top outline, reminiscent of
the later neo-classical form of early
19th century gravestones. In the arch
is a floating, moon faced soul effigy
with small straight wings, an icon
that is unique among almost 200
samples in Little Compton. The text
is crisp, regular and with no hint of
the looser textual carving styles of

12
the period. There can be little doubt that this tablet was carved by a professional stone
carver. The Church family stones, though similar to the Southworth’s are even plainer in
style. There is no outlined border on the tablet and religious iconography is absent,
though there is a faint suggestion of a fleur de lis in the corners of Benjamin and Alice’s
tablet. Their children and grandchildren’s tablets show no such adornment, in fact there is
no visible adornment at all, though the regularized text and the tablet themselves draw
attention to their significance in time and space.
Little scholarly literature addresses the symbolic significance of the tombstone
tablet in colonial New England, possibly because of their uniqueness. Deetz and
Dethlefsen record no tombstone tablets in the three burial grounds of Cambridge,
Concord and Plymouth, Massachusetts. This is not to say that none exist, for examples
are found in places like the North Burial Ground in Providence, Rhode Island, but it does
reinforce the belief that tablet memorialization is uncommon and materially represents a
sense of self importance that is rarely found within the graveyards of colonial New
England. This abnormality of belief, literally carved in stone, is not reflective of any
universal belief amongst the dead at the Commons Burial Ground, but rather a unique
familial trait of self-aggrandizement.

The Trinity:

Scholars researching the meaning of early New England gravestones have long
focused their attention on the three most prevalent motifs, the death’s head, the cherub (or
soul effigy) and the neo-classical urn and willow. That research would concentrate on
these three styles is understandable, for they are the most widely carved stylistic patterns
found throughout colonial New England. Such is the case in Little Compton, where more
than 180 gravestones fit these three motifs. This relatively large sample size allows us to
examine, with a fairly high degree of certainty, stylistic trends over time, and creates a
basis from which to interpret plausible social, economic and religious progression of
beliefs as they relate to those people buried in the Commons Burial Ground. General
design characteristics were traced from 1698 until 1824 and categorized under the general
headings of death’s head, cherub (with its variant styles of Pancake, Moon-face, and
lifelike) and neo-classical (See Appendix – Table 4) Each occurrence of a particular
13
style was further subdivided by decade. To begin, motifs were divided into the three
conventional classifications proposed by Deetz and Dethlefsen9 so that comparisons
could be made between the findings in Little Compton and those in Cambridge, Concord,
and Plymouth as seen in the following graph:
Design Styles-Little Compton
Death’s
Head Cherub Neo-Classical Total/Decade
Before 1700 1 1
1700-1709 12 1 0 13
1710-1719 17 3 0 20
1720-1729 1 6 0 7
1730-1739 0 15 0 15
1740-1749 0 17 0 17
1750-1759 0 16 0 16
1760-1769 0 19 0 19
1770-1779 1-JB 29 0 29
1780-1789 0 8 0 8
1790-1799 0 14 0 14
1800-1809 0 2 0 2
1810-1819 0 0 9 9
Over 1820 0 0 2 2
Total/Age 32 140 11

When plotted over time, the Death’s Head and Cherub motifs found in Little
Compton produce the classic “battleship” pattern that one would suspect. What is unusual

9 Dethlefsen and Deetz, op.cit., p. 505.

14
when compared against the other three examples is how early change occurred. With the
exception of one John Bull example from 1775, the use of the death’s head motif is found
only in first twenty years of the 18th century in Little Compton and except for an isolated
instance, abruptly became extinct in 1720. The ages of those interred are fairly evenly
distributed, giving us no indication that the choice of the death’s head was generational.
Plymouth and Concord, on the other hand, retained this motif style until well into the
1760’s, and in Cambridge throughout the entire century. This abrupt termination suggests
that a significant shift in worldview away from the rigid Puritan orthodoxy and towards a
softening attitude of death, associative with the Great Awakening, occurred much earlier
here than with their contemporaries who lived closer to Boston.
Cherubs, celebrating the joyous hope of life after death, began appearing in Little
Compton during the first decade of the 18th century. Plymouth had no deviation from the
death head motif until the 1730’s, though cherubs began appearing in Cambridge and
Concord by the 1720’s. This is still a full 10 –15 years after the first occurrence in Little
Compton. On the other end of the scale, the first decade of the 1800’s saw the final use of
the cherub design, which by now was a fully developed representative portrait, coinciding
with the style’s demise in the other three examples. By 1810, the neo-classical style had
taken hold in all of the communities, signaling the shift from the sacred to the secular in
post-colonial New England thought. Memorialization, independence of mind and spirit,
and democratic thought finally replaced the religious symbolism of the previous century.
We now turn our focus on each of the three universal styles, their theological significance
and how patterns of change in Little Compton compare with their three contemporaries.

The Death’s Head

The literature is replete with various scholarly interpretations of motifs as they

relate to social attitudes towards death, many of which focus on strict Puritan orthodoxy
and its rather dismal view of life and
death in the face of a judgmental God.
Death was feared, and the hope of eternal
salvation was always in question. The
low ached winged skull in the tympanum
15
of a dark slate gravestone was a daily reminder of their inevitable place, on earth and in
Heaven. Others, however, have taken a more expansive view and, while acknowledging
that death was always feared, there was also the hope of death as a release from the toil
and earthly bondage of the soul and its deliverance to a “better place.” In other words, as
both Gordon Geddes and David Stannard have argued, a tension between the horror of
death and the anticipation of salvation existed in colonial America that in their estimation
was self-reinforcing.10 The earthly horrors of death therefore make the prospect of
ultimate salvation more desirable.
The death head with low- slung outstretched wings therefore can signify more
than one meaning. On the one hand, the bare skull with sunken eye sockets and bared
teeth represent the inevitable outcome of the flesh. In this interpretation, there is no
pretense that death is anything other than horrific and final. The low slumping wings
amplify the humility of man reflected against God, cowering at the thought of meeting
his/her maker after having led the imperfect life of a sinner. This is a fairly traditional
view of the death head’s symbolic meaning and comes, I suggest, from extrapolating a
narrowly focused view of Boston Puritanism to the broader New England population. A
more expansive interpretation of the death’s head is that through death, there is release
from the earthly bonds of the body and the hope for ultimate salvation. Symbolically the
skull is present, evoking the mortality of the flesh, but the wings, in full flight lift the soul
upwards towards Heaven. Rather than short wings that may evoke a lack of purpose, the
soul wandering aimlessly, long expansive wings fill the tympanum and suggest a
purposefulness of flight from the earth and the soul rising to the sky. Yet another, more
cynical interpretation is that the wings simply have no other purpose than aesthetic;
framing the skull and filling the space within the tympanum. As Freud once supposedly
quipped, “Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.” Whatever interpretation one chooses to
embrace, it is clear from the data that by 1720, Little Compton society, in general, had all
but rejected the Puritan notion of death in favor of a softer more expansive liberal
worldview.

Cherubs

10 Hijiya, op.cit., p. 346-347.

16
 Cherubic, or soul effigy symbology found its way to Little Compton very early in
the 18th century. The first recorded reference is found on the tombstone tablets of William
and Rebekah Southworth in 1704. Three more were added in the 1710’s and by the
1720’s they had all but displaced the death head as the town’s preferred symbolic
reference to death. Based loosely on Vincent Luti’s suggested facial classification of soul
effigies, four distinct typologies are represented in this study; cherub, flat pancake, moon
face and lifelike. Although subcategories do exist, especially within the lifelike
classification, this research would not benefit from further differentiation beyond the
aforementioned typologies.
Comparing Deetz and Dethlefson’s study of graveyards in Cambridge, Concord,
and Plymouth, it is clear that an attitudinal shift towards the liberal religious ideology of
the Great Awakening took place in Little Compton much earlier than in the Plymouth and
Massachusetts colonies. Based on their research, the first cherub design appeared in
Cambridge in the 1720’s and in Concord and Plymouth by the 1730’s. They suggest the
earlier usage of cherubs in Cambridge comes from its more educated and therefore liberal
attitudes, and their connection to the English intellectual community whose 17th century
use of the cherub design coincides with the English Great Awakening which began fifty
or so years before New England’s. If one applies their hypothesis that adoption of
stylistic change moves outward from urban centers (in this case Boston) at the rate of one
mile per year, Concord and Plymouth’s stylistic change occurred right on schedule.
Having said this, it does not account for the abrupt shift exhibited in Little Compton, nor
does it account for the fact that change began at least a decade before “liberal”
Cambridge. Something other force was at work, one that I posit is Little Compton’s
geographic location, placing it within the urban orbit of Newport.
In his landmark book, In Small Things Forgotten: An Archaeology of Early
American Life, Deetz suggests that mortuary art may exhibit random or even irregular
changes along boundaries between various socio-political units as compared with more
inland, and therefore stable ones. He illustrates this by looking at the seemingly irregular
patterns of change from Cape Cod and the Rhode Island border as proof of his

17
hypothesis.11 The explanation suggested by Deetz may well be true along the isolated arm
of Cape Cod, or along the contested Rhode Island/Massachusetts border closer to
Providence, but it does not hold up well where Little Compton is concerned. Again, the
data exhibits no pattern randomness between the death’s head and the cherub. To the
contrary, it clearly shows that a definable break from one style to another occurred in the
1720’s and prevailed in various forms until the first decade of the 19th century, when it
disappeared in favor of the neo-classical urn and willow motif. There is every indication,
based on changes in gravestone iconography that Little Compton underwent uncommon,
if not unique, societal and cultural changes earlier than previously suspected of
Massachusetts border towns, a change that is worthy of investigation. Acknowledging
that a complete understanding of the dynamics that occurred in Little Compton is
impossible to accurately reconstruct, it is still possible to imagine why and how this
conversion took place.
A review of the earlier section “A Brief Look at the Early Years” provides many
supporting clues for this contention, some of which have been suggest previously:

• Those who came were an independent lot, intent on establishing themselves and
their families in a new environment that rewarded independence and hard work.
• Many of them had a cordial, possibly friendly and to an extent symbiotic
relationship with the native population of Sakonnet, enlisting them in an alliance
against Metacom (King Philip) during the War.
• There is no mention in the literature surveyed that they came to proselytize and in
fact, they were chastised by Plymouth officials for not having established a
church or engaging a minister until forced to.
• Scores of immigrants from Rhode Island, trying to escape the congestion of
Aquidneck Island were allowed to settle in Little Compton. This polyglot of
ideologies, Baptist, Quaker, and New Lights was certainly not conducive to
maintaining a cohesive theology, if one ever existed in the first place. Another
feature that contributed to Little Compton’s.

11Deetz, James, In Small Things Considered: An Archaeology of Early American Life (New York: Anchor
Books, 1996), 120-121.
18
 • Their relative geographic isolation. Access from the eastern town of Dartmouth
and the northern town of Tiverton was slow, tedious, and in some cases
treacherous, the roads little more than widened “Indian” trails of dirt and mud.
Little commercial activity was present in Dartmouth, though merchants were
beginning to establish shops in the areas known as Stone Bridge, although this too
was a long and arduous journey. To the South and West the Sakonnet River and
Rhode Island Sound formed a natural barrier against easy intrusion. The people in
Little Compton were most certainly isolated, which would have bred a sense of
physical and social independence in the general population.
• Although it has just been argued that Little Compton was geographically isolated,
the urban center of Newport, Rhode Island, by the 1740’s a major maritime and
cultural center was but a half-day’s sail away.
• Coastal and trans-Atlantic commerce brought to Newport a world view of
stimulating new thought. The liberal Protestant ideology, known as the Great
Awakening was taking form, especially in Newport, where Quakers, Protestants,
and Jews discussed and formulated their own theological notions of self, God and
the afterlife. It was here that the people of Little Compton would have been
exposed to a very liberal social, religious and political line of thought
unimaginable in early 17th century Boston or Plymouth. Isolation at some level
liberated them, and it is this liberation that is reflected in the gravestones they
chose.

These clues support the contention that Little Compton became an ideological melting
pot earlier than their contemporaries in Plymouth and Boston, but, they do not explain the
abrupt iconographic shift in the 1720’s, when cherubs replaced death skulls. Admittedly
conjectural, I suggest that the only plausible explanation is the appearance in Newport of
John Stevens in 1705.

The Steven’s Shop in Newport,

Rhode Island

Vincent Luti, a scholar of early

19
colonial gravestones in Newport County, Rhode Island and author Mallet and Chisel:
Gravestone Carvers of Newport, Rhode Island, in the 18th Century has written a masterful
work that traces the evolution of the region’s professional carving styles. The earliest and
most influential of these was the Stevens Shop. Arriving from Boston by way of England,
John Stevens I immediately began producing fairly crude death’s head skulls, most likely
in the same style that he carved John Dye 1716 – Attributed to John Stevens

in Boston. His first body of work dates from 1705 until approximately 1718 and does not,
in general, vary in form, iconography or lettering, although crude attempts late in his
career were made to transition from the bare skull to a more human form. One example
of this transition discovered in Little Compton, (John Dye -1716) illustrates this emerging
style.
Winged soul effigies suddenly appear from the Stevens’ shop sometime between
1715 and 1717, which coincided precisely with the gravestones found in the Commons
Burial Ground in Little Compton. The first example of this style is found in Newport on
the stone of one Joseph Church, (1715)12 followed three months later in Little Compton
on Mary Palmer’s stone (February, 1716). Both effigies are identical in conformation as
is the border, excepting for the star shape at the top of Church’s and the flower shape on
Mary Palmer’s. Their epitaphs are identical in form and reference, with lettering in both
upper and lower case and the older spelling of the word lyeth. The next identifiable
example of a soul effigy from this era, other than the entombed Church family, was John
Coe (1728). Stylistically it compares favorably with Abigail Nichols (1723)13 stone
located in Newport. Both feature a moon-face with subtle chin, and a high arched wing
effigy with an hourglass perched above the head. The different spellings “Here lyeth…”
and “Here lieth” may indicate that the Little Compton example is from another carver but
it does suggest a stylistic link between Little Compton and Newport. The change in
spelling also coincides with the shift from the deaths head to the cherub, or soul effigy
designs.
By the late 1730’s Little Compton, further evidence that suggests Little Compton

12 Luti, Vincent, Mallet and Chisel: Gravestone Carvers of Newport, Rhode Island in the 18th Century.
Rockland: Picton Press, 2002, p. 10.
13 Ibid.,14.

20
sensibilities had shifted from the “art of dying to the art of living”14 is in the form of
commemoration. No longer are the words, “Here lieth…” instead one finds the first use
of “In Memory of …” on Mary Church’s (1736/7) epitaph. No other example would be
found on any example in Little Compton from this date forward. Once it (death) became
a matter for contemplation, death could no longer remain banal, an inevitability to be
accepted on faith alone.” 15
The chronology of John Stevens’ evolutionary style can be further traced from
Newport to Little Compton. Between the dates of 1729 and 1737, hearts, flowers and
wigs began to appear, though earlier
examples do exist in Newport.16 In Little
Compton, it was left to the family of
Patience Richmond to lead the way. In this
example, high arched wings surround the
moon-faced effigy and V shaped bib that
conforms to the heart shape around her
epitaph. The border, made up of symbolic Patience Richmond - 1728

vines, is similarly anchored to the heart shape, filling the entire space of the tablet.

This style is not the exclusive domain of women though, for it appears one year later on
the stone of William Baley (1730). Once again, the link with the more expressive

Newport style is evident in Little Compton.

Not all members of Little Compton society either sought or could afford this new
departure of carving. In 1728/29 Jane Woodwarth’s family commissioned John Stevens17
to produce a gravestone more stylistically in keeping with the tradition of the period;
moon faced subtle chin effigy surrounded by high arched anchored wings with a fairly
traditional border and epitaph. The bald head of the effigy on her stone was common, as
wigs were not particularly in vogue in Newport until the 1740’s, though rare earlier
14 Linden, Blanche M.G., Silent City on the Hill: Picturesque Landscapes of Memory and Boston’s Mount
Auburn Cemetery. China: C&C Offset Printing Co., Ltd., 2007, 29.
15 Ibid.

16 Luti, op.cit., 75.

17 Note from Vincent Luti, John Stevens (II) 1st Account Book 1729.

21
examples do exist, both there and in Little Compton. Samuel Crandell (1736) sporting a
raked wig that may be attributed to William Stevens18 is the only wigged effigy found in
our samples prior to 1740 and only five others are
identified prior to 1760 when the wigged effigy became
commonplace. Whether wigged or bare headed, it is clear
from the material evidence that Little Compton shared
with Newport a more evolved stylization towards death
and memorialization as compared with Cambridge,
Concord, and Plymouth, all of whom would not adopt
these changes until much later.
From the mid to late 18th century, Little Compton’s
gravestones took became more regularized, continuing
with the traditional moon face effigy and high arched
wings. Wigs became more commonplace, as did more facial features (eyes and nose).
This style continued until the late 1770’s when it vanished in favor of the life-like effigy,
a timeframe that loosely parallels Stevens’ work. Of course it is difficult to satisfy
everyone’s interpretation of what constitutes a fully featured moon effigy and a lifelike
one. Having said this, it appears that the earliest of its kind in Little Compton is Hannah
Southworth’s (1765), which, according to Luti, predates Stevens' work by approximately
10 years, suggests that there were other carvers working in the area, which there surely
must have been by the last half of the 18th century. Five other examples exist from 1766
until 1777, when Stevens’ newer body of work appears. An overlap of late soul effigy
styles continues until 1800, when it, like the earlier death’s head, abruptly vanishes from
use. Although Little Compton iconography may have lagged behind that of Cambridge
and Concord, the contemplative aspects of life and death were evidently embraced well
before their contemporaries.

Neo-Classical

Examples of the death’s head in Cambridge continue in usage as late as 1799,

though by 1769 they disappeared from both Concord and Plymouth. This is still 40 years
18 Ibid.,105.
22
after the death head essentially vanished from Little Compton. If as Deetz suggests, the
use of the cherub in place of the death’s head signals the end of Puritanism, this religious
shift places Little Compton on the cutting edge of colonial religious thought. By the end
of the 18th century though, they lagged behind. The first evidence of neo-classicism at the
Commons Burial Ground was for Joseph Thacher, of Boston (1800). It is probable that he
commissioned his own stone, as no other Thachers are buried here, and he made it known
that he was “from away.” The design was transitional- a tripartite form with an oval in
the center surrounding a pedestal and urn. This transitional form is found in every
instance, save one from 1800-1824, (Fenno-1819). Only three examples contain the urn
and willow design, the rest are either simple urn or lamp motifs.
On the other hand, Cambridge, Concord, and
Plymouth gravestones exhibited neo-classical styles as
early as the 1780’s (Cambridge), followed by the
1790’s (Concord), and finally Plymouth, which
loosely parallels Little Compton. Though
conjectural, this may suggest that once Puritanism
was safely behind them, intellectual thought in and
around Boston flourished, reflecting post-colonial
secular thought centered on the individual, art,
culture and noble melancholy as antidotes to the
darkness that they lived with for so long. It might
also suggest that once religious tolerance was available, they embraced the opportunity
for decorative expression and applied it in a variety of ways, including in their mortuary
art. The material evidence found in all four burial grounds, now turned cemeteries, points
in this direction.

Final Thoughts:

I am loath to consider my research a conclusion for it is only a beginning. It began

with the supposition that the early colonists, with their clearly established Puritan
pedigree were not religious ideologues, but instead adventurers, and economic
opportunists who, through a combination of circumstances put aside their Puritan
23
baggage and rapidly embraced a more expansive social and theological worldview than
their contemporaries further to the East. Individualism, Native American contact, and the
proximity to religious “dissidents” began their conversion process, and the proximity to
the cultural and economic polyglot of Newport Rhode Island made the conversion
complete. Little Compton had socially and intellectually turned their backs on the rigid
orthodoxy of Puritan Plymouth and Massachusetts, and they represented their beliefs in
stone. The local availability of stone carvers, especially the Stevens shop, allowed them
to express in their thoughts through mortuary art. 18th century Little Compton gravestones
represent the progressive attitudes of a region’s people who were allowed to intellectually
develop in a free and open environment.
In contrast, the evolution of mortuary art in Cambridge, Concord and Plymouth,
closer to the epicenter of Puritan thought, was decidedly less progressive that Little
Compton’s, possibly due to the lack of exposure to diverse opinions or possibly because
of the repressive nature of Puritan society in the early to mid 18th century. Regardless of
the cause, these four examples vividly illustrate very real and divergent patterns of New
England thought. By mid century, new religious and individualistic attitudes followed the
death of Puritanism, and this was represented in Cambridge, Concord and Plymouth by a
rapid shift how life and death was viewed. This rate of change, as represented in their
mortuary art, progressed rapidly, converging and eventually overtaking Little Compton’s.
Not to be viewed as a race, this illustrates, in bold relief the extent to which Little
Compton rejected its Puritan orthodoxy in favor of progressive social and theological
thought much earlier than might have been suspected. It took fifty years before all four
reflected a similar belief structure.
I say that this is but a beginning, for there are many possibilities for new and
thoughtful research. After all, this is a cemetery that has over three hundred years of
people and stories contained within it; more research into the early history of Little
Compton awaits. Familial burial patterns, changing belief structures amongst and
between families, demographic, health and nutritional studies are but some of the
possibilities. It might also be that an historian will come along and use this place as a
micro-history, as Jill Lapore, John Demos, and others have done, as a way of viewing
larger social contexts through a narrow, more “manageable” lens. The point is that
24
graveyards, be they colonial, post colonial, antebellum, modern or postmodern all has
stories to tell. Those who are interred have created the narrative; it is up to us to listen.

Appendix I – Distribution by Age and Gender

Table 1 – Little Compton Men

Males – Little Compton
16-29 30-39 40-49 50-59 60-69 70-79 80-89 >90 Total/Decade
Before 1700
1700-1709 0 1 0 0 0 0 0 0 1
25
1710-1719 3 3 0 1 0 2 0 0 9
1720-1729 1 0 0 0 0 2 0 0 3
1730-1739 1 1 0 0 1 1 1 0 5
1740-1749 0 2 1 1 1 2 0 0 7
1750-1759 0 1 0 0 10 0 4 0 15
1760-1769 0 1 0 1 4 1 2 0 9
1770-1779 3 0 1 0 3 3 1 0 11
1780-1789 1 0 0 0 0 0 1 0 2
1790-1799 0 1 0 1 1 2 0 0 5
1800-1809 0 3 0 0 0 0 0 0 3
1810-1819 0 0 0 0 1 1 0 0 2
Over 1820 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0
Total/Age 9 13 2 4 21 14 9 0

Table 2 – Little Compton Women

Females
16-29 30-39 40-49 50-59 60-69 70-79 80-89 >90 Total/Decade
Before 1700
1700-1709 1 2 2 0 1 0 0 0 5
1710-1719 5 1 1 1 1 1 0 0 10
1720-1729 2 0 0 1 0 1 0 0 4
1730-1739 3 0 2 0 1 1 0 0 7
1740-1749 2 1 0 0 1 0 1 0 5
1750-1759 3 2 0 0 1 0 0 1 7
1760-1769 0 0 2 0 1 0 1 1 5
1770-1779 4 0 2 0 1 1 2 0 10
1780-1789 1 2 0 0 0 2 1 0 6
1790-1799 0 0 2 1 0 2 2 1 8
1800-1809 0 0 1 1 0 2 2 1 7
1810-1819 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0
Over 1820 0 1 1 0 0 0 0 0 2
Total/Age 21 9 13 4 7 10 9 4

Table 3 – Little Compton Children

Children Male Female
<1 1-3 4-7 8-14 <1 1-3 4-7 8-14 Total/Decade
Before 1700
1700-1709 2 1 0 0 0 1 0 1 5

26
1710-1719 1 1 0 0 0 0 0 3 5
1720-1729 2 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 2
1730-1739 0 0 0 0 0 1 0 0 1
1740-1749 0 0 0 1 1 0 0 1 3
1750-1759 0 0 0 3 1 0 0 0 4
1760-1769 0 0 0 0 0 2 0 1 3
1770-1779 1 0 0 0 1 0 3 1 6
1780-1789 0 0 1 0 0 0 0 0 1
1790-1799 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0
1800-1809 0 0 0 0 1 0 0 0 1
1810-1819 0 0 0 0 0 0 1 0 1
Over 1820 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0
Total/Age 6 2 1 4 4 4 4 7

Table 4 – Design Distribution, Little Compton

Design
Bulb
Skull Cherub Pancake Moon-Face Lifelike Neo-Classical Total/Decade
Before 1700 1 1
1700-1709 12 0 0 1 0 0 13
1710-1719 17 0 2 1 0 0 20
1720-1729 1 0 3 3 0 0 7
1730-1739 0 0 3 12 0 0 15
1740-1749 0 0 2 15 0 0 17
1750-1759 0 0 2 14 0 0 16
1760-1769 0 0 0 17 2 0 19
1770-1779 0 0 0 17 12 0 29
1780-1789 0 1 1 0 6 0 8
1790-1799 0 0 0 1 13 0 14
1800-1809 0 0 0 0 2 0 2
1810-1819 0 0 0 0 0 9 9
Over 1820 0 0 0 0 0 2 2
Total/Age 31 1 13 81 35 11

Bibliography

Deetz, James, In Small Things Considered: An Archaeology of Early American Life. New
York: Anchor Books, 1996.

Dethlefsen, Edwin and James Deetz. “Death's Heads, Cherubs, and Willow Trees:
27
Experimental Archaeology in Colonial Cemeteries”. American Antiquity, Vol. 31, No. 4
(Apr., 1966), pp. 502-510. Available from: Society of American Archaeology,
[http://www.jstor.org/stable/2694382].

Hijiya, James. “American Gravestones and Attitudes toward Death: A Brief History”
Proceedings of the American Philosophical Society, Vol. 127, No. 5 (Oct. 14, 1983):
pp.339-363. Available from: American Philosophical Society,
[http://www.jstor.org/stable/986503].

Linden, Blanche M.G., Silent City on the Hill: Picturesque Landscapes of Memory and
Boston’s Mount Auburn Cemetery. China: C&C Offset Printing Co., Ltd., 2007.

Luti, Vincent, Mallet and Chisel: Gravestone Carvers of Newport, Rhode Island in the
18th Century. Rockland: Picton Press, 2002.

Luti, Vincent. Over 200 Images of 18th and Early 19th century gravestones in the
Commons Burial Ground, Little Compton, Rhode Island. From his private collection

West, Cindy. Over 50 Images of 18th and Early 19th century gravestones in the Commons
Burial Ground, Little Compton, Rhode Island. From her private collection

Other References

Deetz, James and Edwin N. Dethlefsen. “Some Social Aspects of New England Colonial
Mortuary Art”. Memoirs of the Society for American Archaeology No. 25, Approaches to
the Social Dimensions of Mortuary Practices (1971), pp. 30-38. Available from: Society
for American Archaeology, [http://www.jstor.org/stable/25146710].

Deetz, James and Richard Bushman. “A Cognitive Historical Model for American
Material Culture: 1620-1835”. Bulletin of the American Schools of Oriental Research.
Supplementary Studies, No. 20 (1974), pp. 21-27. Available from: The American Schools
of Oriental Research, [http://www.jstor.org/stable/20066624].

Dunn, Richard S.. “The Social History of Early America”. American Quarterly, Vol. 24,
No. 5 (Dec., 1972), pp. 661-679. Available from: The John Hopkins University Press,
[http://www.jstor.org/stable/2711665].

Moran, Gerald F. and Maris A. Vinovskis.. “The Puritan Family and Religion: A Critical
Reappraisal”. The William and Mary Quarterly, Third Series, Vol. 39, No.1, The Family
in Early American History and Culture (Jan. 1982), pp. 29-63. Available from:
Omohundro Institute of Early American History and Culture,
[http://www.jstor.org/stable/1923416].

Stannard, David E. “Death and Dying in Puritan New England”. The American
Historical Review, Vol. 78, No. 5 (Dec., 1973), pp. 1305-1330. Available from:
28
American Historical Association, [http://www.jstor.org/stable/1854094].

29