Curious Epitaphs, Collected from the Graveyards of Great Britain and Ireland.

Next is a copy of an acrostic epitaph from Tewkesbury Abbey: —

Here lyeth the body of Thomas Merrett, of Tewkesbury, Barber-chirurgeon, who departed this life the 22nd day of October, 1699.

T hough only Stone Salutes the reader’s eye,H ere (in deep silence) precious dust doth lye,O bscurely Sleeping in Death’s mighty store,M ingled with common earth till time’s no more,A gainst Death’s Stubborne laws, who dares repine,S ince So much Merrett did his life resigne.M urmurs and Teares are useless in the grave,E lse hee whole Vollies at his Tomb might have.R est here in Peace; who like a faithful steward,R epair’d the Church, the Poore and needy cur’d;E ternall mansions do attend the Just,T o clothe with Immortality their dust,T ainted (whilst under ground) with wormes and rust.

Under the shadow of the ancient church of Bakewell, Derbyshire, is a stone containing a long inscription to the memory of John Dale, barber-surgeon, and his two wives, Elizabeth Foljambe and Sarah Bloodworth. It ends thus: —

Know posterity, that on the 8th of April, in the year of grace 1757, the rambling remains of the above John Dale were, in the 86th yeare of his pilgrimage, laid upon his two wives.

This thing in life might raise some jealousy,Here all three lie together lovingly,But from embraces here no pleasure flows,Alike are here all human-joys and woes;Here Sarah’s chiding John no longer hears,And old John’s rambling Sarah no more fears;A period’s come to all their toylsome lives,The good man’s quiet; still are both his wives.

The following is from St. Julian’s church, Shrewsbury: —

The remains of Henry Corser of this parish, Chirurgeon, who Deceased April 11, 1691, and Annie his wife, who followed him the next day after: —

We man and wife,Conjoined for Life,Fetched our last breathSo near that Death,Who part us would,Yet hardly could.Wedded againe,In bed of dust,Here we remaine,Till rise we must.A double prize this grave doth finde,If you are wise keep it in minde.

In St. Anne’s Churchyard, Soho, erected by the Earl of Orford (Walpole), in 1758, these lines were (or are) to be read: —

Near this place is interredTheodore, King of Corsica,Who died in this ParishDecember XI., MDCCLVI.,Immediately after leavingThe King’s Bench Prison,By the benefit of the Act of Insolvency;In consequence of whichHe registered his Kingdom of CorsicaFor the use of his Creditors!The grave – great teacher – to a level bringsHeroes and beggars, galley-slaves and kings!But Theodore this moral learned, ere dead;Fate pour’d its lessons on his living head,Bestow’d a kingdom, and denied him bread.

In the burial-ground of the Island of Juan Fernandez, a monument states: —

In Memory ofAlexander Selkirk,Mariner,A native of Largo, in the county of Fife, Scotland,Who lived on this island, in completesolitude, for four years and four monthsHe was landed from the Cinque Ports galley, 96 tons,18 guns, A.D. 1704, and was taken off in theDuke, privateer, 12th February, 1709He died Lieutenant of H.M.S. Weymouth,A.D. 1723, aged 47 yearsThis Tablet is erected near Selkirk’s look out,By Commodore Powell and the Officersof H.M.S. Topaze, A.D. 1868

It is generally believed that the adventures of Selkirk suggested to Daniel Defoe the attractive story of “Robinson Crusoe.” In the “Dictionary of English Literature,” by William Davenport Adams, will be found important information bearing on this subject.

In Gloucester Notes and Queries we read as follows: “Stout’s Hill is the name of a house situated on high ground to the south of the Village of Uley, built in the style which, in the last century, was intended for Gothic, but which may be more exactly defined as the ‘Strawberry Hill’ style. In a house of earlier date lived the father of Samuel Rudder, the laborious compiler of the History of Gloucestershire (1779). He lies in the churchyard of Uley, on the south side of the chancel, and his grave-stone has a brass-plate inserted, which records a remarkable fact: —

Underneath lies the remains of Roger Rutter, alias Rudder, eldest son of John Rutter, of Uley, who was buried August 30, 1771, aged 84 years, having never eaten flesh, fish, or fowl, during the course of his long life.

Tradition tells us that this vegetarian lived mainly on ‘dump,’ in various forms. Usually he ate ‘plain dump:’ when tired of plain dump, he changed his diet to ‘hard dump;’ and when he was in a special state of exhilaration, he added the variety of ‘apple dump’ to his very moderate fare.”

On the gravestone of Richard Turner, Preston, a hawker of fish, the following inscription appears: —

Beneath this stone are deposited the remains of Richard Turner, author of the word Teetotal, as applied to abstinence from all intoxicating liquors, who departed this life on the 27th day of October, 1846, aged 56 years.

In Mr. W. E. A. Axon’s able and entertaining volume, “Lancashire Gleanings” (pub. 1883), is an interesting chapter on the “Origin of the Word ‘Teetotal.’” In the same work we are told that Dr. Whitaker, the historian of Whalley, wrote the following epitaph on a model publican: —

Here lies the Body ofJohn Wigglesworth,More than fifty years he was theperpetual Innkeeper in this TownWithstanding the temptations of that dangerous calling,he maintained good order in hisHouse, kept the Sabbath day Holy,frequented the Public Worshipwith his Family, induced his gueststo do the same, and regularlypartook of the Holy CommunionHe was also bountiful to the Poor,in private as well as in public,and, by the blessings of Providenceon a life so spent, diedpossessed of competent Wealth,Feb. 28, 1813,aged 77 years

The churchyard of Sutton Coldfield, Warwickshire, contains a gravestone bearing an inscription as follows: —

As a warning to female virtue,And a humble monument of female chastity,This stone marks the grave ofMary Ashford,Who, in the 20th year of her age, havingIncautiously repaired to a scene of amusement,Was brutally violated and murderedOn the 27th of May, 1817Lovely and chaste as the primrose pale,Rifled of virgin sweetness by the gale,Mary! the wretch who thee remorseless slewAvenging wrath, who sleeps not, will pursue;For though the deed of blood was veiled in night,Will not the Judge of all mankind do right?Fair blighted flower, the muse that weeps thy doom,Rears o’er thy murdered form this warning tomb.

The writer of the foregoing epitaph was Dr. Booker, vicar of Dudley. The inscription is associated with one of the most remarkable trials of the present century. It will not be without interest to furnish a few notes on the case. One Abraham Thornton was tried at the Warwick assizes for the murder of Mary Ashford, and acquitted. The brother and next of kin of the deceased, not being satisfied with the verdict, sued out, as the law allowed him, an appeal against Thornton, by which he could be put on his trial again. The law allowed the appeal in case of murder, and it also gave option to the accused of having it tried by wager of law or by wager of battle. The brother of the unfortunate woman had taken no account of this, and accordingly, not only Mr. Ashford, but the judge, jury, and bar were taken greatly aback, and stricken with dismay when the accused, being requested to plead, took a paper from Mr. Reader, his counsel, and a pair of gloves, one of which he drew on, and, throwing the other on the ground, exclaimed, “Not guilty; and I am ready to defend the same with my body!” Lord Ellenborough on the bench appeared grave, and the accuser looked amazed, so the court was adjourned to enable the judge to have an opportunity of conferring with his learned brethren. After several adjournments, Lord Ellenborough at last declared solemnly, but reluctantly, that wager of battle was still the law of the land, and that the accused had a right of appeal to it. To get rid of the law an attempt was made, by passing a short and speedy Act of Parliament, but this was ruled impossible, as it would have been ex post facto, and people wanted curiously to see the lists set up in the Tothill Fields. As Mr. Ashford refused to meet Thornton, he was obliged to cry “craven!” After that the appellor was allowed to go at large, and he could not be again tried by wager of law after having claimed his wager of battle. In 1819 an Act was passed to prevent any further appeals for wager of battle.

The following is copied from a gravestone in Saddleworth churchyard, and tells a painful story: —

Here lies interred the dreadfully bruised and lacerated bodies of William Bradbury and Thomas his son, both of Greenfield, who were together savagely murdered, in an unusually horrible manner, on Monday night, April 2nd, 1832, old William being 84, and Thomas 46 years old.

Throughout the land, wherever news is read,Intelligence of their sad death has spread;Those now who talk of far-fam’d Greenfield’s hillsWill think of Bill i’ Jacks and Tom o’ Bills.Such interest did their tragic end exciteThat, ere they were removed from human sight,Thousands upon thousands daily came to seeThe bloody scene of the catastrophe.One house, one business, and one bed,And one most shocking death they had;One funeral came, one inquest pass’d,And now one grave they have at last.

The following on a Hull character is from South Cave churchyard: —

In memory of Thomas Scatchard,Who dy’d rich in friends, Dec. 10, 1809Aged 58 yearsThat Ann lov’d Tom, is very true,Perhaps you’ll say, what’s that to you.Who e’er thou art, remember this,Tom lov’d Ann, ’twas that made bliss.

In Welton churchyard, near Hull, the next curious inscription appears on an old gravestone: —

Here lieth He ould Jeremy, who hath eight times maried been, but now in his ould Age, he lies in his cage, under The gras so Green, which Jeremiah Simpson departed this life in the 84 yeare of his age, in the year of our Lord 1719.

Mr. J. Potter Briscoe favours us with an account of a famous local character, and a copy of his epitaph. According to Mr. Briscoe, Vincent Eyre was by trade a needle-maker, and was a firm and consistent Tory in politics, taking an active interest in all the party struggles of the period. His good nature and honesty made him popular among the poor classes, with whom he chiefly associated. A commendable trait in his character is worthy of special mention, namely, that, notwithstanding frequent temptations, he spurned to take a bribe from any one. In the year 1727 an election for a Member of Parliament took place, and all the ardour of Vin’s nature was at once aroused in the interests of his favourite party. The Tory candidate, Mr. Borlase Warren, was opposed by Mr. John Plumtree, the Whig nominee, and, in the heat of the excitement, Vin emphatically declared that he should not mind dying immediately if the Tories gained the victory. Strange to relate, such an event actually occurred, for when the contest and the “chairing” of the victor was over, he fell down dead with joy, September 6th, 1727. The epitaph upon him is as follows: —

Here lies Vin Eyre;Let fall a tearFor one true man of honour;No courtly lord,Who breaks his word,Will ever be a mourner.In freedom’s causeHe stretched his jaws,Exhausted all his spirit,Then fell down dead.It must be saidHe was a man of merit.Let Freemen beAs brave as he,And vote without a guinea;Vin Eyre is hurledTo t’other world,And ne’er took bribe or penny.True to his friend, to helpless parent kind,He died in honour’s cause, to interest blind.Why should we grieve life’s but an airy toy?We vainly weep for him who died of joy.

We will next give some account of an eccentric Lincolnshire schoolmaster, named William Teanby, who resided for many years at Winterton. Respecting the early years of his career we have not been able to obtain any information. At the age of 30, he was engaged as a school-master in the vestry of Winterton church. He had many scholars, and continued teaching until he had attained a very advanced age. Some years before his death a gravestone was ordered, whereon he cut in ancient court hand the epitaph of his wife and children. From this slab he mostly took his food, and long before his death, placed on two pieces of wood, it served him for a table. After the epitaph of his wife and children, he left a vacancy for his own name and age, to be inserted by a friend, which was done at his death. The coffin in which he proposed being buried was used by him a considerable time as a cupboard. The old man retained perfect possession of his senses to the last, and at the age of 95 attended the Lincoln assizes, and gave away as curiosities, many circular pieces of paper for watches, not larger than half-a-crown, on which he had written the Lord’s prayer and creed. He was habitually serious. Through attending his school in the church, he became familiar with the house of death; in feasting from his stone slab, he enjoyed his meals from the very source which was afterwards to record the events of his life; and in what was his every day cupboard he now enjoys a peaceful and quiet rest. He passed away at the advanced age of 97. The tombstone bears the following lines: —

To us grim death but sadly harsh appears,Yet all the ill we feel, is in our fears;To die is but to live, upon that shoreWhere billows never beat, nor tempests roar;For ere we feel its probe, the pang is o’er;The wife, by faith, insulting death defies;The poor man resteth in yon azure skies; —That home of ease the guilty ne’er can crave,Nor think to dwell with God, beyond the grave; —It eases lovers, sets the captive free,And though a tyrant he gives liberty.

The following lines also appear on the same stone: —

Death’s silent summons comes unto us all,And makes a universal funeral! —Spares not the tender babe because it’s young,Youth too, and its men in years, and weak and strong!Spares not the wicked, proud, and insolent,Neither the righteous, just, nor innocent;All living souls, must pass the dismal doomOf mournful death, to join the silent tomb.

The following lines to the memory of Thomas Stokes are from his gravestone in Burton churchyard, upon which a profile of his head is cut. He for many years swept the roads in Burton: —

This stonewas raised by Subscriptionto the memory ofThomas Stokes,an eccentric, but much respected,Deaf and Dumb man,better known by the name of“Dumb Tom,”who departed this life Feb. 25th, 1837,aged 54 yearsWhat man can pause and charge this senseless dustWith fraud, or subtilty, or aught unjust?How few can conscientiously declareTheir acts have been as honourably fair?No gilded bait, no heart ensnaring needCould bribe poor Stokes to one dishonest deed.Firm in attachment to his friends most true —Though Deaf and Dumb, he was excell’d by few.Go ye, by nature form’d without defect,And copy Tom, and gain as much respect.

Next we deal with an instance of pure affection. The churchyard of the Yorkshire village of Bowes contains the grave of two lovers, whose touching fate suggested Mallet’s beautiful ballad of “Edward and Emma.” The real names of the couple were Rodger Wrightson and Martha Railton. The story is rendered with no less accuracy than pathos by the poet: —

Far in the windings of the vale,Fast by a sheltering wood,The safe retreat of health and peace,A humble cottage stood.There beauteous Emma nourished fair,Beneath a mother’s eye;Whose only wish on earth was nowTo see her blest and die.Long had she filled each youth with love,Each maiden with despair,And though by all a wonder owned,Yet knew not she was fair.Till Edwin came, the pride of swains,A soul devoid of art;And from whose eyes, serenely mild,Shone forth the feeling heart.

We are told that Edwin’s father and sister were bitterly opposed to their love. The poor youth pined away. When he was dying Emma, was permitted to see him, but the cruel sister would scarcely allow her to bid him a word of farewell. Returning home, she heard the passing bell toll for the death of her lover —

Just then she reached, with trembling step,Her aged mother’s door —“He’s gone!” she cried, “and I shall seeThat angel face no more!”“I feel, I feel this breaking heartBeat high against my side” —From her white arm down sunk her head;She, shivering, sighed, and died.

The lovers were buried the same day and in the same grave. In the year 1848, Dr. F. Dinsdale, F.S.A., editor of the “Ballads and Songs of David Mallet,” etc., erected a simple but tasteful monument to the memory of the lovers, bearing the following inscription: —

Rodger Wrightson, junr., and Martha Railton, both of Bowes; buried in one grave. He died in a fever, and upon tolling his passing bell, she cry’d out My heart is broke, and in a few hours expired, purely thro’ love, March 15, 1714-15. Such is the brief and touching record contained in the parish register of burials. It has been handed down by unvarying tradition that the grave was at the west end of the church, directly beneath the bells. The sad history of these true and faithful lovers forms the subject of Mallet’s pathetic ballad of “Edwin and Emma.”2

In St. Peter’s churchyard, Barton-on-Humber, there is a tombstone with the following strange inscription: —

Doom’d to receive half my soul held dear,The other half with grief, she left me here.Ask not her name, for she was true and just;Once a fine woman, but now a heap of dust.

As may be inferred, no name is given; the date is 1777. A curious and romantic legend attaches to the epitaph. In the above year an unknown lady of great beauty, who is conjectured to have loved “not wisely, but too well,” came to reside in the town. She was accompanied by a gentleman, who left her after making lavish arrangements for her comfort. She was proudly reserved in her manners, frequently took long solitary walks, and studiously avoided all intercourse. In giving birth to a child she died, and did not disclose her name or family connections. After her decease, the gentleman who came with her arrived, and was overwhelmed with grief at the intelligence which awaited him. He took the child away without unravelling the secret, having first ordered the stone to be erected, and delivered into the mason’s hands the verse, which is at once a mystery and a memento. Such are the particulars gathered from “The Social History and Antiquities of Barton-on-Humber,” by H. W. Ball, issued in 1856. Since the publication of Mr. Ball’s book, we have received from him the following notes, which mar somewhat the romantic story as above related. We are informed that the person referred to in the epitaph was the wife of a man named Jonathan Burkitt, who came from the neighbourhood of Grantham. He had been valet de chambre to some gentleman or nobleman, who gave him a large sum of money on his marrying the lady. They came to reside at Barton, where she died in childbirth. Burkitt, after the death of his wife, left the town, taking the infant (a boy), who survived. In about three years he returned, and married a Miss Ostler, daughter of an apothecary at Barton. He there kept the King’s Head, a public-house at that time. The man got through about £2000 between leaving Grantham and marrying his second wife.

On the north wall of the chancel of Southam Church is a slab to the memory of the Rev. Samuel Sands, who, being embarrassed in consequence of his extensive liberality, committed suicide in his study (now the hall of the rectory). The peculiarity of the inscription, instead of suppressing inquiry, invariably raises curiosity respecting it: —

Near this place was deposited, on the 23rd April, 1815, the remains of S. S., 38 years rector of this parish.

In Middleton Tyas Church, near Richmond, is the following: —

This Monument rescues from Oblivionthe Remains of the Reverend John Mawer, D.D.,Late vicar of this Parish, who died Nov. 18, 1763, aged 60As also of Hannah Mawer, his wife, who diedDec. 20th, 1766, aged 72Buried in this ChancelThey were persons of eminent worthThe Doctor was descended from the Royal Familyof Mawer, and was inferior to none of his illustriousancestors in personal merit, being the greatestLinguist this Nation ever producedHe was able to speak & write twenty-two Languages,and particularly excelled in the Eastern Tongues,in which he proposed to His Royal HighnessFrederick Prince of Wales, to whom he was firmlyattached, to propagate the Christian Religionin the Abyssinian Empire; a great & nobleDesign, which was frustrated by theDeath of that amiable Prince; to the great mortification ofthis excellent Person, whose merit meeting withno reward in this world, will, it’s to be hoped, receiveit in the next, from that Being which Justiceonly can influence

MISCELLANEOUS EPITAPHS

We bring together under this heading a number of specimens that we could not include in the foregoing chapters of classified epitaphs.

Our example is from Bury St. Edmunds churchyard: —

Here lies interred the Body ofMary Haselton,A young maiden of this town,Born of Roman Catholic parents,And virtuously brought up,Who, being in the act of prayerRepeating her vespers,Was instantaneously killed by aflash of Lightning, August 16th,1785. Aged 9 yearsNot Siloam’s ruinous tower the victims slew,Because above the many sinn’d the few,Nor here the fated lightning wreaked its rageBy vengeance sent for crimes matur’d by age.For whilst the thunder’s awful voice was heard,The little suppliant with its hands uprear’d,Addressed her God in prayers the priest had taught,His mercy craved, and His protection sought;Learn reader hence that wisdom to adore,Thou canst not scan and fear His boundless power;Safe shalt thou be if thou perform’st His will,Blest if he spares, and more blest should He kill.

A lover at York inscribed the following lines to his sweetheart, who was accidentally drowned, December 24, 1796: —

Nigh to the river Ouse, in York’s fair city,Unto this pretty maid death shew’d no pity;As soon as she’d her pail with water fill’dCame sudden death, and life like water spill’d.

An accidental death is recorded on a tombstone in Burton Joyce churchyard, placed to the memory of Elizabeth Cliff, who died in 1835: —

This monumental stone records the nameOf her who perished in the night by flameSudden and awful, for her hoary head;She was brought here to sleep amongst the dead.Her loving husband strove to damp the flameTill he was nearly sacrificed the same.Her sleeping dust, tho’ by thee rudely trod,Proclaims aloud, prepare to meet thy God.

We are told that a tombstone in Creton churchyard states: —

On a Thursday she was born,On a Thursday made a bride,On a Thursday put to bed,On a Thursday broke her leg, andOn a Thursday died.

From Ashburton we have the following: —

Here I lie, at the chancel door,Here I lie, because I’m poor;The farther in, the more you pay,Here I lie as warm as they.

In the churchyard of Kirk Hallam, Derbyshire, a good specimen of a true Englishman is buried, named Samuel Cleater, who died May 1st, 1811, aged 65 years. The two-lined epitaph has such a genuine, sturdy ring about it, that it deserves to be rescued from oblivion: —

True to his King, his country was his glory,When Bony won, he said it was a story.

A monument in Bakewell church, Derbyshire is a curiosity, blending as it does in a remarkable manner, business, loyalty, and religion: —

To the memory of Matthew Strutt, of this town, farrier, long famed in these parts for veterinary skill. A good neighbour, and a staunch friend to Church and King. Being Churchwarden at the time the present peal of bells were hung, through zeal for the house of God, and unremitting attention to the airy business of the belfry, he caught a cold, which terminated his existence May 25, 1798, in the 68th year of his age.

In Tideswell churchyard, among several other singular gravestone inscriptions, the following occurs, and is worth reprinting: —

In Memory ofBrian, Son of John and Martha Haigh,who died 22nd December, 1795,Aged 17 years

Come honest sexton, with thy spade,

And let my grave be quickly made;Make my cold bed secure and deep,That, undisturbed, my bones may sleep,Until that great tremendous day,When from above a voice shall say, —“Awake, ye dead, lift up your eyes,Your great Creator bids you rise!”Then, free from this polluted dust,I hope to be amongst the just.

The old church of St. Mary’s, Sculcoates, Hull, contains several interesting monuments, and we give a sketch of one, a quaint-looking mural memorial, having on it an inscription in short-hand. In Sheahan’s “History of Hull,” the following translation is given: —

In the vault beneath this stone lies the body of Mrs. Jane Delamoth, who departed this life, 10th January, 1761. She was a poor sinner, but not wicked without holiness, departing from good works, and departed in the Faith of the Catholic Church, in full assurance of eternal happiness, by the agony and bloody sweat, by the cross and passion, by the precious death and burial, by the glorious resurrection and ascension of Our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, Amen.