Père Lachaise Cemetery

The founders, though, weren't interested in a simple burial ground.

They were inspired by the park-like cemeteries of Europe, including Père Lachaise in Paris.

So they hired John Chislett, a landscape architect from Pittsburgh, to design the grounds.

Instead of straight roads and tightly packed graves, Chislett laid Crown Hill out along the natural landscape.

I mean, she talks a lot about why are old people always the butter jokes in the coming of age.

And I think even at the end of this movie, there's a great scene where she walks out of Père Lachaise at the cemetery in Paris and says, you know, I'm not frightened of death.

It's aging that frightens me.

And a black cat goes before her feet.

It hinted at poverty.

Père Lachaise, if you please.

To be buried in Père Lachaise is equivalent to having furniture of mahogany.

It is recognized as elegant.

The Vaugirard Cemetery was a venerable enclosure, planted like an old-fashioned French garden.

As the man wrote, he talked aloud, and Marius heard his words.

The idea that there is no equality even when you are dead.

Just look at Père Lachaise.

But, um, uh, so that was nice.

And we went to, you know, Père Lachaise Cemetery to see the grave.

Yeah, yeah.

Which, again, in my book is gonna be Bosie's grave.

The first thing, he said, was to find out the matter that bored their poor friend so, and caused all this clatter.

"Morbleu de ma vie!" here he took some repie, "be the cause what it may, he shall tell it to me." He was right, sure enough; in a couple of days he worms out the whole story of Sister Thérèse, now entombed, poor dear soul! in some Dutch Père-Lachaise.

"But the worst thing of all," François-Xavier declares, "is, whenever I've taken my candle up-stairs, there's Thérèse sitting there upon one of those chairs.

Such a frown, too, she wears, and so frightfully glares, that I'm really prevented from saying my prayers; while an odor, the very reverse of perfume, more like rhubarb or senna, pervades the whole room." Hector Achille Stanislas Émile, when he heard him talk so, felt an odd sort of feel.

Because there was no signs of foul play, French law did not require an autopsy.

He was buried in a private ceremony at Père Lachaise Cemetery on July 7th.

For decades, that official story held firm.

That is, until the witnesses started talking.