Without a Gravestone

The curious case of John Tyler's gravesite spans fifty-three years from start to finish beginning with his death in Richmond on January 18, 1862 in the Exchange Hotel. What makes his case so interesting compared to other presidents? Tyler, aside from having been the first acting vice-president to assume the office the presidency on the death of his predecessor, William Henry Harrison, was a devout native Virginian (he was also Virginia governor from 1825-1827 and a U.S. Senator). After leaving the White House in 1845, he returned to the Old Dominion where he remained for the rest of his life. It was the tail-end of the "rest of his life" that cemented his legacy by many as a traitor to the country he served and the Constitution he was sworn to protect and defend. In 1861, Tyler chaired the Peace Convention. Joined by southern representatives, he was in contact with Northern representatives and President Lincoln in an effort to avert secession. Obviously, the effort was in vain. Southern states began to secede from the U.S. and war broke out in Charleston, S.C. At 71 years of age in 1861, Tyler-certainly past his prime in terms of physical health-welcomed, like many of his fellow Virginians, the break from the United States and the forming of the Confederate States of America (CSA). Tyler, an esteemed statesmen and experienced politician, sought election to the CSA's House of Representatives and he was elected in late 1861. But fate stepped in, or, to be more exact, his poor health stepped in, and shortly before he was to be seated he died. North of the Mason-Dixon Line, aside from the announcement of his death, his death did not receive much attention nor were any newspaper columns written to celebrate his life. Quite the opposite. He was ridiculed, lampooned, and labeled a traitor. His death was in fact celebrated. Below the Mason-Dixon Line, the exact opposite occurred. He was heralded as a proud statesman, a leader, a patriot of the southern cause of independence. I wouldn't be surprised if he was viewed as a martyr by some. While all these anti- and pro-Tyler gestures were occurring across the two countries, his body had to be dealt with and consigned to the earth of his native Virginia. Initially, Tyler had written in his will-1859-that he wished to be buried on the grounds of his home, Sherwood Forest Plantation in Charles City and given a headstone or either granite or marble. This did not come to pass. Tyler, following his funeral, was buried in Richmond's Hollywood Cemetery, near the grave of fellow Virginian and former president, James Monroe. Despite all the positive treatment and southern praise, Tyler's grave stood unmarked for nearly the remainder of the 19th century. Nearly two months before the century ended, Tyler's grave was adorned with a traditional curved headstone, his last name etched in granite below a brief epitaph, placed in front of the tree that was planted in front of his grave in 1862. Thirteen years later, in 1912, the federal government took interest in his grave and in 1915, the current memorial over his grave was unveiled. From start to finish, fifty-three years passed from burial to current grave memorial. Of course, his lowly position held by many in the north and the lingering foul taste left he left after siding with the CSA-made all the worse for being a former president-certainly complicated any effort to improve the memorial of his grave.

This headstone was placed at Tyler's grave in late 1899. Note the tree behind the headstone. This is the tree planted at his grave shortly after his burial.