Hollywood Cemetery

Richmond's most famous cemetery, final resting place of two U.S. Presidents (James Monroe and John Tyler), Confederate President Jefferson Davis, and 18,000 Confederate soldiers. A 90-foot granite pyramid memorial honors the Confederate dead.

Hollywood Cemetery, established in 1847 and designed by landscape architect John Notman, sprawls across 135 acres overlooking the James River. Named for its abundant holly trees, this rural cemetery became the second most famous graveyard in America and the final resting place for two U.S. Presidents (James Monroe and John Tyler), Confederate President Jefferson Davis, 28 Confederate generals including J.E.B. Stuart and George Pickett, and over 18,000 Confederate soldiers.

The most infamous legend is the Richmond Vampire. On October 2, 1925, at 3:20 p.m. on a cool, rainy afternoon, the Church Hill Tunnel collapsed on a work crew of 200 men. As survivors scrambled through thousands of feet of darkness and scalding steam from a ruptured boiler, witnesses outside reported a horrifying sight: a blood-covered creature with jagged teeth and skin hanging from its body emerged from the tunnel entrance and fled toward the James River. Pursued by a mob, the creature allegedly vanished into the hillside mausoleum of W.W. Pool, a Richmond accountant who had died in 1922. The plausible explanation is that witnesses saw 28-year-old fireman Benjamin F. Mosby, who had been working shirtless near the furnace when the collapse hurled him through a steam explosion that flayed his skin and shattered his teeth. Mosby managed to crawl out but died at Grace Hospital at 11:40 p.m. that same night, leaving behind a wife and daughter. Engineer Tom Mason remained trapped in the cab for nine days before his body was recovered; workers Richard Lewis and H. Smith were never found. In 1926, the tunnel was filled with sand, entombing the locomotive and flat cars forever.

The Pool mausoleum fueled speculation for decades. Built into a hillside with the date 1913 on its lintel (his wife's death, not his own 1922 demise), some interpreted the initials "W.W. Pool" as resembling vampire fangs. Rumors of satanic cult rituals in the 1960s and 1970s added to the mystique, though no evidence was ever found. The Pool family's remains have since been relocated to an undisclosed location, and the tomb's door has been welded shut.

The 90-foot granite pyramid, designed by Confederate Army Captain Charles H. Dimmock and erected in 1869, memorializes over 11,000 Confederate enlisted men—most of whom remain unidentified. Inscribed in Latin with "In eternal memory of those who stood for God and Country," the monument is the cemetery's most paranormally active site. Visitors consistently report blasts of ice-cold air along the pyramid's rear wall, even on warm days. Disembodied moans echo around the structure at dawn and dusk, described as "the cries of unidentified soldiers hoping someone might recognize their call." Paranormal investigators have captured EVP recordings here: when asked "Will you talk to us?" a distinct male voice responded with a firm "No!" followed by a female voice saying "It's OK."

The Iron Dog of Hollywood Cemetery guards the grave of Florence Rees, a two-year-old girl who died of scarlet fever in February 1862. The three-foot cast-iron Newfoundland statue was allegedly placed at her grave by her uncle, photographer Charles R. Rees, to save it from being melted down for Confederate bullets—cemetery monuments were exempt from government requisition. Located on "Black Dog Hill" along Cedar Avenue, the statue has become a pilgrimage site where children leave toys and coins. Visitors report hearing random barking near Florence's resting place, while those who approach with "dark hearts" hear deep, guttural growling. Some witnesses claim to have seen a little girl playing with a dog near the grave late at night, and groundskeepers insist the statue's position changes—sometimes facing the opposite direction—as if still protecting Florence.

A Richmond sheriff's deputy who patrolled the cemetery reported multiple encounters. Near President James Monroe's tomb, after making a casual remark about the president's grave, a swarm of flies suddenly attacked him, pursuing him all the way to his patrol van. At the Confederate Monument, he regularly encountered an unexplained cold spot. In the maintenance shed bathroom, he heard a door open and footsteps approaching, feeling an overwhelming presence. When he said aloud, "Please leave me alone today, I'm not feeling well," the sensation immediately ceased.

Hollywood Cemetery remains an active burial ground and arboretum open daily to visitors. Ghost tours operate regularly, guiding the curious past the vampire's sealed mausoleum, the moaning pyramid, and the faithful iron dog. The spirits of 18,000 soldiers, two presidents, and one terrified fireman await those brave enough to walk among Richmond's most distinguished—and restless—dead.