The first thing I notice about Clarissa Bertha Cornell’s headstone is the ivy and rose so intricately carved into the sandstone; the ivy symbolising affection, faithfulness, and eternity, and the rose symbolizing beauty and love. She was 49 when she died after a long illness in 1916.
With so much love etched into stone, I’m not surprised to see that her husband lies with her. Arthur lived for another 30 years after Clarissa died. They had met through mutual friends at church and had eight children.
Their grave at the Drayton & Toowoomba Cemetery was one of more than 150 targeted by vandals last year. It’s in the middle of the cemetery, an area particularly hard-hit by the teens.
The tall sandstone headstone had been pushed over, landing on the grave itself and crashing through the cement grave floor. This left the headstone lying about a foot deep in the grave itself. The silver lining of this desecration is that the shattering of the floor saved the headstone, cushioning its landing. Many headstones weren’t so lucky.
Like everyone in the Drayton & Toowoomba Cemetery, the Cornells are part of our story, of who we are and how we came to be. Arthur was an accountant and business manager, later becoming a farmer near Meringandan. He and Clarissa lived through tough times. One of their six daughters, a twin called Lizzie, died at the seaside during a time when doctors recommended sea air to help alleviate respiratory illnesses. When Clarissa herself died, her eldest son Ted was serving in Egypt in the 5th Light Horse Regiment and her son-in-law William was on the western front.
Husband Arthur was 16 when he came to Australia from London, spending four months at sea, sailing to a foreign land with nothing but faith and a sense of adventure.
When Arthur died at 92, his obituary in the Toowoomba Chronicle did read like an adventure novel.
“The death of Mr Cornell marks the passing of a man who has lived a long lifetime in an era when a young country was struggling for being, and when the frontier was slowly but gradually being pushed back before the axe and plough of the pioneer.
“Born in London in 1853, Mr Cornell left school at the age of 13½ years and obtained a position in an office of South African merchants. There he spent some interesting years. He witnessed the unpacking of the first diamond to come from South Africa. Cut and polished in Amsterdam, this stone was sold later in Paris for £2188. At the age of 16 years, there came to young Cornell the call of the great outdoors. He began to cast his thoughts to the great countries beyond the seas.”
His obituary goes on to explore Arthur’s extensive CV, including building Queensland’s biggest leather business, which ran three tanneries. He also loved playing chess.
Not bad for a kid who left school at 13!
From desecration to restoration
It’s these kinds of tales that remind us that everyone in the cemetery lived a life worth remembering. To see their names in the dirt amidst toppled headstones and broken monuments is a stark reminder of how vulnerable our tributes to our dead can be.
Yet from this desecration comes an opportunity to rewrite this dark chapter in the cemetery’s own history. A small but mighty group of community members, united in a mission to right this wrong, has formed the Headstone Healing Project.
Clarissa and Arthur’s headstone is once again standing tall. It has a new story now — one of care and community. It was retrieved from its face-down position by JH Wagner & Sons stone masons, who volunteered time and equipment to ensure that the names on the vandalised graves could be seen. Then months later, thanks to generous donations, Clarissa and Arthur’s grave was repaired – a couple’s love once again for all to see.
To donate: Headstone Healing | bsb 084034 | account 978172393.
Lisa Herbert operates Cemetery Tours Toowoomba and is a member of the Headstone Healing Project. She is the author of ‘The Bottom Drawer Book: an after death action plan’.
