But Some Must Die, Even Some in Beauty's Bloom

[Originally posted at the Rose Hill Cemetery blog.]

In the Central Avenue Division of Rose Hill Cemetery rests Jane P. Shackelford, her ledger marker describing the sweet young lady she was, and the classy woman she was surely to have become. The article following details her tragic end.

In Memory Of
JANE P. SHACKELFORD
a member of the Junior Class in the Georgia Female College
who departed this life
Jany 26th, 1841
in the 15th year of her age.

Never was there a happier commingling of all the virtues that adorn the
female character, than was to be found in this early victim of the grave.
In childhood's hour she had been taught the precepts of the adorable
Saviour, and in after life she exemplified in her meek and pious
deportment, that those divine precepts had been deeply engraven upon
her heart by the Spirit of God.  Though sudden was the call, yet was she
prepared through the merits of her Redeemer, to enter upon the realition of
the Heavenly World.  This humble tribute is from one, who would ill
become to utter flattery or praise, but who can calculate the measure of that
pang, which strikes the parents heart upon the loss of such a child.
Whither shall he go for comfort.  Let him look up and say,
"Thy will, O God, be done."

DIED,
At the Female College, in this city, on the 26th ult., Miss JANE SHACKELFORD, daughter of F. R. Shackelford, of Darien, formerly of this place, in the 14th year of her age.

But some must die, e'en some in beauty's bloom
Be laid within the cold and silent tomb.

The melancholy circumstances attending the untimely death of this young lady, are briefly these: -- She was a member of the College, and on the Wednesday preceding her death, whilst alone in her room, thoughtfully engaged in preparation for her customary recitations, her dress accidentally came in contact with the fire, near which she was sitting, and was instaneously [sic] enveloped in flames. With that calm self possession, which the war-worn veteran, who has faced danger and death at the cannon's mouth can never acquire, and a resolution unknown to ordinary intellects, she endeavoured by her own exertions to extinguish them; as calmly as if it was a premeditated act, she strove to arrest their progress, but the advance of the devouring element was too rapid to be subdued, by such means, and in the attempt her hands were dreadfully burned. Assistance was called, and quickly came, but all too late. The fire was quickly subdued, but its progress had been fatally rapid. Every exertion that skill or kindness could devise to relieve the sufferer was put in requisition, but in vain. She lingered in agony until the Tuesday following, when her pure spirit took its flight to another and better world... [Macon Weekly Telegraph (Georgia) 9 February 1841, pg. 3]

Credit: original photo by James Allen. Slightly cropped variation above by S. Lincecum.