There is a class of epitaphs, or, we should rather say, there are certain
instances of monumental indecorum which have not as yet been noticed by the
many contributors on these subjects to your pages. I refer to those
inscriptions embodying threats, or expressing resentful feelings against
the murderers, or supposed murderers, of the deceased individual. Of such
epitaphs we have fortunately but few examples in Great Britain; but in
Norway, among the Runic monuments of an early and rude age, they are by no
means uncommon.
Near the door of the church of Knaresdale, in Northumberland, is the
following on a tombstone:
"In Memory of ROBERT BAXTER, of Farhouse,
who died Oct. 4, 1796, aged 56.
"All you that please these lines to read,
It will cause a tender heart to bleed.
I murdered was upon the fell,
And by the man I knew full well;
By bread and butter, which he'd laid,
I, being harmless, was betray'd.
_I hope he will rewarded be_
That laid the poison there for me."
Robert Baxter is still remembered by persons yet living, and the general
belief in the country is, that he was poisoned by a neighbour with whom he
had had a violent quarrel. Baxter was well known to be a man of voracious
appetite; and it seems that, one morning on going out to the fell (or
hill), he found a piece of bread and butter wrapped in white paper. This he
incautiously devoured, and died a few hours after in great agony. The
suspected individual was, it is said, alive in 1813.
We know not how much of the old Norse blood ran in the veins of Robert
Baxter's friend, who composed this epitaph; but this summer, among a people
of avowedly Scandinavian descent, I copied the following from a large and
handsome tomb in the burying-ground of the famous Cross Kirk, in
Northmavine parish, in Shetland:
"M.S.
DONALD ROBERTSON,
Born 1st of January, 1785; died 4th of June, 1848,
aged 63 years.
He was a peaceable quiet man, and to all appearance a sincere
Christian. His death was very much regretted, which was caused by the
stupidity of Laurence Tulloch, of Clotherten, who sold him nitre
instead of Epsom salts, by which he was killed in the space of three
hours after taking a dose of it."
Among the Norwegian and Swedish Runic inscriptions figured by Gösannson and
Sjöborg, we meet with two or three breathing a still more revengeful
spirit, but one eminently in accordance with the rude character of the age
to which they belong (A.D. 900 ad 1300).
An epitaph on a stone figured by Sjöborg runs as follows:
"Rodvisl and Rodalf they caused this stone to be raised after their
three sons, and after [to] Rodfos. Him the Blackmen slew in foreign
lands. God help the soul of Rodfos: _God destroy them that killed
him._"
Another stone figured by Gösannson has engraved on it the same revengeful
aspiration.
We all remember the Shakspearian inscription, "Cursed be he that moves my
bones;" but if Finn Magnussen's interpretation be correct, there is an
epitaph in Runic characters at Greniadarstad church, in Iceland, which
concludes thus:
"If you willingly remove this monument, may you sink into the ground."
It would be curious to collect examples of these menaces on tombstones, and
I hope that other contributors will help to rescue any that exist in this
or in other countries from oblivion.