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The history of Hollywood Cemetery’s iron dog and the little girl it watches over

RICHMOND, Va. (WRIC) — There’s a 2-year-old girl buried in Richmond’s Hollywood Cemetery who sadly passed from scarlet fever in the mid-1800s. Ever since she was laid to rest, a cast iron statue of a dog has watched over her.

8News decided to take a closer look at these two prolific Hollywood Cemetery residents and the history they share. Along the way, our research uncovered that little Florence Bernardin Rees is in possession of something far rarer than originally anticipated.


Florence Bernardin Rees and her cast iron dog statue at Hollywood Cemetery in Richmond. (Photo: Ryan Nadeau/8News)

The Rees family and Florence’s short life

The Rees family plot is located along Cedar Avenue in Hollywood Cemetery, not too far from its main entrance off Albemarle Street. It sits at the crest of a hill that is often called “Black Dog Hill.”

Multiple members of the Rees family are buried on this plot — including Florence, who died on Feb. 7, 1862, at 2 years, 7 months and 14 days old.

The Rees family plot at Hollywood Cemetery in Richmond. (Photo: Ryan Nadeau/8News)

Robert “Bob” Olsen, a retiree with a passion for historical research, was recommended to 8News by Hollywood Cemetery’s Mabel Toney as the man to talk to about the Rees family tree. He provided 8News with several documents he’s uncovered over the years.

According to birth records obtained by Olsen, Florence was born in Kentucky on July 20, 1859, to Thomas Rees and Elizabeth McDonough. By the time of the 1860 U.S. Census, she was living in Allentown, Pennsylvania, with her grandfather, Bernard Rees — whom her middle name, Bernardin, is meant to honor.

Death notification for Florence Bernardin Rees. (Photo courtesy of Bob Olsen.)

To understand how Florence and her family came to be in Richmond at the time of her death, Olsen points to Thomas’ brother, Charles Rees — a Civil War-era photographer who he said is described as the “Matthew Brady of the South.”

As explained in “Southern Exposure: The Life and Times of C. R. Rees & Co.” by D. A. Serrano, Charles’ photography career includes several prized shots, including a view of the Libby prison described as “one of the only two wartime images of the prison known to exist.”

According to Serrano, in the 1850s, Charles operated a photography studio in Richmond at the corner of Main and 8th streets.

While Charles would take a brutal blow when his studio burned during Richmond’s evacuation fires in 1865, business was still trucking along when Thomas came to his brother and asked for a job. Per Olsen’s research, he’d been struggling to hold one down for some time and hoped Richmond would be different.

The Rees family plot at Hollywood Cemetery in Richmond. (Photo: Ryan Nadeau/8News)

By New Year’s Eve in 1861, Thomas had brought his wife and child to Richmond, prepared to begin a new chapter.

During their time in Virginia’s capital, Olsen’s research suggests Florence was close with Edward Rees — Charles’ son and her cousin — who was about three years older than her.

Not much else is known about her day-to-day life prior to her death in February 1862.

Per burial records, Florence’s cause of death was scarlet fever. It’s this same illness that would also take Edward’s life only two months later at 5 years and 11 months old.

The grave of Edward “Eddie” Rees on the Rees family plot in Hollywood Cemetery in Richmond. (Photo: Ryan Nadeau/8News)

Charles and Thomas both went in together to purchase the Rees family plot at Hollywood Cemetery, with Charles and his family to be buried on the left side of the plot and Thomas’ family to be buried on the right side.

While Charles and multiple other members of his direct family are buried on his side of the plot, including Edward, Florence is the only person buried on Thomas’ side. Olsen’s research suggests her parents did not remain in Richmond after her death and they are thusly buried elsewhere.

The engravings on Florence’s grave have largely worn down over the years, but her initials — “F.B.R.” — can still be read on the smaller of the two stones.

Florence was buried in a cradle grave, a popular style for young children that is often filled with flowers and bushes. Olsen added that the artist behind it, John W. Davies, only made gravestones for about a decade.

Florence’s grave is the only one on the Rees plot to be made in this style, with almost all of the others — including one for a James Conway Rees IV, buried as recently as 2014 — being flat or bevel headstones.

What makes Florence’s final resting place especially unique, however, is the steadfast companion watching over her.

Florence Bernardin Rees and her cast iron dog statue at Hollywood Cemetery in Richmond. (Photo: Ryan Nadeau/8News)

The meaning this cast iron statue of a Newfoundland has for both Florence and those who witness its vigil when visiting the ceremony is profound — but 8News has now learned that Florence’s iron dog is also a rare piece with a rich history.

Where did this statue — and ones like it — come from?

During 8News’ research, multiple mentions of the iron dog originating from a company based in Baltimore, Maryland, were noted. 8News made contact with the Baltimore Museum of Industry (BMI) to learn more about this potential connection.

That company, Barlett-Hayward, produced these iron dog statues as lawn ornaments — but they were also the business’ mascots. “Mascots,” not “mascot,” because these statues were made not in one real dog’s image, but two.

8News spoke with BMI collections & exhibition manager Curtis Durham and BMI archives research coordinator Ken Jones to learn more about Barlett-Hayward, its mascots and the fascinating truth of the two real Newfoundlands these statues embody.

The BMI is in possession of the original casting patterns for these dogs, some of which are pictured above. Such patterns were made using two real Newfoundlands, Sailor and Canton, who washed ashore in the Chesapeake Bay in 1807.

Per Olsen’s research, “Canton” was the name of the ship commanded by George Law, who came to own the dogs after they were rescued from a sinking British ship as puppies.

Jones provided 8News with a pamphlet, “The Story of Sailor and Canton,” which reportedly was given to him alongside the book “Iron Men and Their Dogs.” Said book was written by Ferdinand C. Latrobe in the age after Koppers acquired Bartlett-Hayward — which happened in the 1920s — and it details Bartlett-Hayward’s history.

“Iron Men and Their Dogs” by Ferdinand C. Latrobe, chronicles the history of the Bartlett-Hayward company. On its cover is an illustration of the iron statues of Sailor and Canton, its mascots. (Photo: Ryan Nadeau/8News, book courtesy of the Library of Virginia)

According to the pamphlet, Sailor and Canton were cast at Bartlett-Hayward in the 1850s, “when Victorian cast-iron architecture was much in vogue.” Both the pamphlet and BMI researchers explained that items like iron furniture, birds and animals were often placed in a person’s yard as a way to flaunt their wealth. Bartlett-Hayward provided such decor, including its Newfoundland mascots, to many buyers at this time.

Sailor and Canton’s legacy extends even beyond their role as Bartlett-Hayward’s mascot, however. These two dogs and their descendants were bred into what would eventually become the Chesapeake Bay Retriever — or the “Chesapeake Bay Ducking Dog,” per the pamphlet.

“Sailor and Canton, in enduring cast iron … are Baltimore’s monuments to the Newfoundland ancestors of the Chesapeake Bay Ducking Dog,” the pamphlet reads. “They are symbols of the great interest of the original Barlett and Hayward partners in hunting that royal bird, the canvasback duck (Nyroca valisineria), and are accepted as a talisman of the firm’s prosperity.”

Photos included in “Iron Men and Their Dogs” by Ferdinand C. Latrobe, chronicling the history of the Bartlett-Hayward company. It’s not specified whether or not the dog(s) pictured here include Sailor, Canton and/or any of their descendants. (Photo: Ryan Nadeau/8News, book courtesy of the Library of Virginia)

Durham said it was very likely that two molds — one for Sailor and one for Canton — were created, given both the number of casting patterns the BMI has and how making the molds in pairs would have saved time and energy during production.

When asked if it was possible to determine if Florence’s dog was either cast in Sailor or Canton’s image, Durham answered that the Newfoundland pups were so similar in appearance that any variations would be very subtle. He said that every pair of iron dogs he’s seen “look identical in feature, stride, angle of head and tail, [et cetera.]”

Durham added that the BMI has chosen to call its iron dog “Sailor.”

It is painted to resemble two of the other seven statues that the BMI has confirmed to still exist — that being the two iron dogs at Baltimore Gas and Electric’s (BGE) Spring Gardens location. Notably, this is also the location of the original Bartlett-Hayward plant.

Here’s where all seven iron dogs known to the BMI can be found:

The Maryland Center for History and Culture told 8News that its pair is the original set of statues that sat outside of the company’s entrance “for over a century at various locations throughout Baltimore.”

Durham said there were “inklings” of more iron dogs found in New York, but the BMI was never able to “definitively confirm” their authenticity. Jones added that a book published in 1962 — “Life with Grover: A Chesapeake Bay Retriever Who Thought He Was a Person” by Alexander Crosby Brown — also claimed to know of another existing dog.

Brown claims — at the time of his writing — that an iron dog statue “stands in the front yard of a house at Chance, near Tappahannock, Virginia.”

An illustration from “Life with Grover: A Chesapeake Bay Retriever Who Thought He Was a Person” by Alexander Crosby Brown that appears to depict Bartlett-Hayward’s statues of Sailor and Canton. (Photo: Ryan Nadeau/8News, book courtesy of the Library of Virginia)

In that same section, Brown said he wanted a “cast iron watchdog” of his own, so it could “be planted on [his] grave” after his death — much like Florence’s dog watches over her. However, he reportedly was told by Walter F. Perkins, then-vice president of the Koppers Company and general manager of its Bartlett-Hayward division, that “the patterns for these dogs are no longer in existence.”

“‘Even if they were, I am afraid that the kind of skill required to produce such items is gone,’ was his gloomy conclusion — a sad commentary on the technological advances of our atomic age,” Brown wrote.

As the BMI is in possession of such patterns, at least the claim that they no longer exist can be proven false.

Regardless, the loss of such technology doesn’t explain why are there so few of these dogs left — if so many were made, where did they go? According to the BMI, this is because most were sold and melted down for their raw iron — a common practice during both the Civil War and the World Wars. Said iron would then be used to support war efforts.

With that in mind — and especially given that six of the seven confirmed iron dogs reside in Maryland — it’s not unreasonable to say that Florence’s iron dog here in Richmond is quite the unique case.

So how did Florence get her iron dog?

One question that remained unanswered throughout 8News’ investigation is how Florence’s iron dog ended up on her grave. This story may be lost to time — but there are a few theories, some of which are supported by historical context.

Olsen told 8News that the theory he puts the most stock in is that Florence — as well as her cousin, Edward — were fond of the iron dog in life.

Florence Bernardin Rees and her cast iron dog statue at Hollywood Cemetery in Richmond. Some nearby graves have been blurred for privacy reasons. (Photo: Ryan Nadeau/8News)

As this particular tale goes, the statue sat outside of a Richmond business and, when the children passed it, they would play on the statue, clearly fond of it.

Who, exactly, placed the statue at Florence’s grave is also a mystery — but Olsen believes it could have been Charles, as both a gift to Florence (and possibly Edward) and to prevent the statue from being taken by Confederate soldiers for its raw materials, as the BMI described.

While many stories state that the iron dog would have been melted into bullets, Olsen told 8News that cast iron would not have been used to make bullets. It’s much more likely that the dog would have become a cannonball.

Letter to the editor of Richmond Times-Dispatch detailing claims about the Hollywood Cemetery iron dog. (Photo: The Valentine.)

8News was able to obtain, with the assistance of The Valentine, a few recorded instances of such stories being told. Of particular interest is a letter to the editor of Richmond Times-Dispatch from an “Ada R. Bailey,” who claims to be the grandchild of Charles Rees.

While the column makes mention of a “Bernadine Rees,” it claims that the iron dog once belonged to another Rees by the name of “Charlie,” who the writer states is her father’s brother. This would make Charlie one of Charles’ children and another cousin to Florence.

The remainder of the story goes on to describe Charlie much like the other stories describe Florence and Edward, saying he was fond of the dog so much that Charles eventually bought it for him.

The Valentine also provided a copy of “A Dog Waits in Hollywood Cemetery” by Walter S. Griggs, Jr. — a piece written about the iron dog and some of the stories surrounding it.

Griggs describes other theories that echo what 8News encountered during its research. One is that the statue was a gift from its original owner, who had seen how Florence adored the iron dog. Another is that it was purchased by Thomas, for similar reasons.

Within his story, Griggs — like Olsen — maintains his view that Florence knew of the statue while she was alive and that this attachment motivated someone to give her the iron dog after she passed.

“Regardless of how the dog got there, Florence Rees’ grave was now marked by an iron dog and the area would soon be called Black Dog Hill,” Griggs wrote. “The big dog that she had loved so much in life now guarded her in death.”

Florence Bernardin Rees and her cast iron dog statue at Hollywood Cemetery in Richmond. Some nearby graves have been blurred for privacy reasons. (Photo: Ryan Nadeau/8News)

He also touched on the drive to seize and melt ornamental iron during this period and how that relates to Florence’s iron dog.

“As the war engulfed Richmond and the South, iron was needed to make instruments of war,” Griggs wrote. “Everything that was not essential was being melted down for the war effort. Soon, the Richmond authorities started to look at the iron dog that little Florence had so loved.”

Griggs added why the iron dog being placed in the cemetery would have certainly protected it.

“Even a desperate nation did not melt down cemetery monuments,” Griggs wrote.

Florence Bernardin Rees and her cast iron dog statue at Hollywood Cemetery in Richmond. (Photo: Ryan Nadeau/8News)

Hollywood Cemetery’s iron dog is surrounded by a lot of folklore — and a few ghost stories — Griggs explained. Tales of the statue patrolling the cemetery, watching visitors and even barking to scare those who’d harm Florence away are all included in Griggs’ telling.

Regardless of whatever supernatural ability some might ascribe to the statue, the symbolism of the iron dog is certainly real. The affection it represents draws the attention of visitors — particularly the little ones.

Griggs wrote of children laying toys on Florence’s grave and giving the dog coins, showing Florence love and the statue appreciation.

When 8News visited Florence’s gravesite, we saw that in full force.

Gifts sitting in the cradle of Florence’s grave included a Dr. Seuss book, both painted and bare rocks, stuffed animals, little toy animals and a baby pink rubber duck — to name a few. A bright, shiny penny sat upon the crown of the iron dog’s head, with multiple other coins laid on Florence’s headstone. A black dog collar was clipped around one of the statue’s legs.

During our visit, 8News actually witnessed a pair of Hollywood Cemetery visitors stop by the Rees site and toss another small token into Florence’s cradle.

Even now, so many years after her death, Florence and her companion are still loved.

“Many things have changed since Florence was laid to rest in Hollywood Cemetery … But one thing has not changed,” Griggs wrote. “The big, black iron dog is always alert, always diligent, always protecting his little friend Florence.”

The attempted theft of Florence’s dog and its new tail

The below photos, provided by Olsen, showcase Florence’s iron dog in its original form — with the classic, fluffy Newfoundland tail it was cast with still attached.

The statue would be permanently altered after someone attempted to steal the iron dog from Hollywood Cemetery in the 1970s.

At the onset of this investigation, 8News got in contact with Mabel Toney with Hollywood Cemetery, who connected us with Olsen. During his interview, Olsen mentioned a possible theft — prompting 8News to revisit Toney to see if she or any other Hollywood Cemetery staff members knew anything about the incident.

Toney said she actually knew someone who’d witnessed the theft, as he’d been working security at the time — her husband, Donald.

According to Toney, Donald was on his rounds in the cemetery when he saw what appeared to be a man picking up the iron dog. The would-be thief proceeded to load it into the bed of a red pickup truck, but — likely because of its immense weight — he could only get the statue onto the tailgate.

Toney explained that the hill near the Rees family plot is steep and, at the time of the theft, there used to be a “hump” at its base. Donald reportedly witnessed the truck speed down the hill and, when it hit that hump, the iron dog fell off of the tailgate. The impact shattered its tail.

Florence Bernardin Rees and her cast iron dog statue at Hollywood Cemetery in Richmond. (Photo: Ryan Nadeau/8News)

As the attempted thief continued to flee, Donald attempted to stop them. He called the people who, at the time, lived near the cemetery’s gate and asked them to lock it to prevent their escape. Unfortunately, the red pickup was already gone by the time they got there.

This unknown attempted thief was never caught, to Toney’s understanding.

To hopefully prevent such incidents in the future — as well as protect the children who often play on the statue from what could happen if it fell — Toney said Florence’s iron dog is now secured in the ground using rebar and concrete.

As for its broken tail, Toney said a man named Robert Willis, who owned a lot at the cemetery, found out where a new tail could be made and assisted Hollywood Cemetery in seeing it done.

Toney said staff now keep multiple extra tails on the property in case something happens again.

The new tail is visibly different from the original cast. According to Olsen, the current tail is more like that of a retriever.

He said that he would like to see the tail restored to its original Newfoundland look, adding that he’s planning a trip to Baltimore to see if he can make that happen. For now, Florence’s iron dog remains one-of-a-kind for yet another reason.

Parting words on Florence and her iron companion

Hollywood Cemetery is a place where many notable people are buried — presidents James Monroe and John Tyler, multiple Confederate leaders and local authors James Branch Cabell and Ellen Glasgow, to name just a few.

Though Florence Bernardin Rees may not have been a general or a president, and though her life may have been painfully short — the story of this little girl and her iron dog continues to be told nearly two centuries after her death.

Florence Bernardin Rees and her cast iron dog statue at Hollywood Cemetery in Richmond. (Photo: Ryan Nadeau/8News)

All these years later, children continue to be drawn to the statue just as she was — if the tales are true, at least. This loveable guardian endures — both charming kids and providing a comfort of sorts to those old enough to understand that a little girl could use a friend in the afterlife.

If you’re interested in visiting Hollywood Cemetery to take in its incredibly rich history, you can find it at 412 South Cherry St., nestled along the James River in Richmond.