Lillian Madison’s relatives buried her in Richmond, in Oakwood Cemetery. The body of her unborn son, removed during autopsy, was placed in the coffin beside her. Today, a group of walnut trees shade the Madison plot in a quiet corner of the old cemetery, and as the decades roll by, lush moss threatens to overtake the stone. The soft white marble of her grave marker has weathered until it has become hard to read the dread date of her death on March 13, 1885. Likewise, the seasons are slowly erasing the name of the murdered girl which was once on the lips of so many people in Richmond, and which was spoken in such tones of sympathy and horror at her fate.