Many Have Searched For 'Rosetta's Gold'

Last week, I wrote of Rosetta Bachelor’s gold that may yet remain buried somewhere in the 800 block of State Street.
This week, I will tell of a very early and certainly unusual quest for this hidden fortune.
In most ways, Lewis Bachelor was the opposite of his wife. He was very quiet, humble and retired. He was thought by most folks to be rather timid with a colorless personality.
He seemed to have little interest in the affairs of others. The one way he was very much like his wife was in the intense and everlasting quest for money.
He became Bristol’s first drayman (freight hauler). He also opened the first bakery here that he and Rosetta largely operated at night after their daytime duties were done. He also did some carpentry work. He did about anything to add another dollar to his increasing wealth.
Whereas Rosetta was greatly feared, as much for her tongue as for the weapons she carried, Lewis was highly respected and admired by those who knew him.
Worn out by endless toil and likely much stress, he died in his middle 50s.
A great many Bristolians turned out for his funeral and followed in the great procession to the East Hill Cemetery. His funeral was conducted by the noted and early undertaker H.A. Bickley, a close friend of Lewis’, who put on a grand, never-to-be-forgotten funeral. He was buried east of the western-most gate of the cemetery.
As expected, soon after his death, trouble broke out about his estate (see last week’s article). Even before that trouble developed, it became apparent that Rosetta, as a precaution, had already hidden the family fortune.
Within several weeks, a few began to speculate about this supposed hidden fortune. This first speculation centered around something that happened on the day of the funeral.
At the close of the funeral, Rosetta requested she be left alone with her husband’s body for 30 minutes. She had closed the parlor doors, but a curious lad in the crowd soon told that he had looked through a keyhole and saw Rosetta crossing the room carrying what appeared to be a very heavy bag.
Then, two or three of the pallbearers said they thought the coffin was somewhat heavier when they carried it from the house than when they carried it from his bedroom into the parlor.
This led to speculation that Rosetta had buried the gold with her husband. True to how speculation talk can go, “Had she?” soon turned into “She had!”
Then came that wet, foggy morning in early March 1876 when a man left his home in Paperville to journey into Bristol. His path lay by East Hill Cemetery (at that time it was called City Cemetery).
He glanced up into the cemetery and there saw a startling sight.
There was a pile of fresh dirt, and near it was a coffin turned on its side and there was a body laying face down on the wet ground.
Someone had opened Lewis’ grave and had gone so far as to tear the lining from the coffin in a desperate attempt at locating the gold.
Was it found? Not likely.
The ex-slave’s story is far more plausible. My personal opinion is that it was buried beneath the rosebush that finally spread into a jungle over her backyard.
We who have had experience with the Cherokee rose know that they can grow so thick that a snake can’t crawl through.
Later, the jungle was cleared for the erection of a business building, but I have no knowledge of the exact location.
It was Rosetta’s request that her body be returned from Catonsville, Md., for burial at the side of her husband. For some reason, her request was not honored. She is buried in an old cemetery in Catonsville.
The night after she died, a man passing East Hill Cemetery quickly ran back into town with a tale that a purple light was moving around Lewis Bachelor’s grave.
A couple of brave men ran up there to see for themselves. They saw the purple light circle the grave and then seemingly, sink slowly into the ground. Many locals thought it was the spirit of Rosetta protesting that her request was not honored.
Why purple? I have never heard of another “ghost light” being purple. Well, maybe Ol’ Dad Thomas was right when he said, “That old gal always delighted in being different!”

BUD PHILLIPS is a local historian and author. He can be reached at (276) 466-6435.