We give a few of the many curious epitaphs placed to the memory of
soldiers and seafaring men. Our initial epitaph is taken from Longnor
churchyard, Staffordshire, and it tells the story of an extended and
eventful life:--
In memory of WILLIAM BILLINGE, who was Born in a Corn Field at
Fawfield head, in this Parish, in the year 1679. At the age of 23
years he enlisted into His Majesty's service under Sir George Rooke,
and was at the taking of the Fortress of Gibralter in 1704. He
afterwards served under the Duke of Marlborough at Ramillies, fought
on the 23rd of May, 1706, where he was wounded by a musket-shot in his
thigh. Afterwards returned to his native country, and with manly
courage defended his sovereign's rights in the Rebellion in 1715 and
1745. He died within the space of 150 yards of where he was born, and
was interred here the 30th January, 1791, aged 112 years.
Billeted by death, I quartered here remain,
And when the trumpet sounds I'll rise and march again.
On a Chelsea Hospital veteran, we have the following interesting
epitaph:--
Here lies WILLIAM HISELAND,
A Veteran, if ever Soldier was,
Who merited well a Pension,
If long service be a merit,
Having served upwards of the days of Man.
Ancient, but not superannuated;
Engaged in a Series of Wars,
Civil as well as Foreign,
Yet maimed or worn out by neither.
His complexion was Fresh and Florid;
His Health Hale and Hearty;
His memory Exact and Ready.
In Stature
He exceeded the Military Size;
In Strength
He surpassed the Prime of Youth;
And
What rendered his age still more Patriarchal,
When above a Hundred Years old
He took unto him a Wife!
Read! fellow Soldiers, and reflect
That there is a Spiritual Warfare,
As well as a Warfare _Temporal_.
Born the 1st August, 1620,
Died the 17th of February, 1732,
Aged One Hundred and Twelve.
At Bremhill, Wiltshire, the following lines are placed to the memory of a
soldier who reached the advanced age of 92 years:--
A poor old soldier shall not lie unknown,
Without a verse and this recording stone.
'Twas his, in youth, o'er distant lands to stray,
Danger and death companions of his way.
Here, in his native village, stealing age
Closed the lone evening of his pilgrimage.
Speak of the past--of names of high renown,
Or brave commanders long to dust gone down,
His look with instant animation glow'd,
Tho' ninety winters on his head had snow'd.
His country, while he lived, a boon supplied,
And Faith her shield held o'er him when he died.
A correspondent states that in Battersea Church there is a handsome
monument to Sir EDWARD WYNTER, a Captain in the East India Company's
service in the reign of Charles II., which records that in India, where he
had passed many years of his life, he was
A rare example, and unknown to most,
Where wealth is gain'd, and conscience is not lost;
Nor less in martial honour was his name,
Witness his actions of immortal fame.
Alone, unharm'd, a tiger he opprest,
And crush'd to death the monster of a beast.
Thrice twenty mounted Moors he overthrew,
Singly, on foot, some wounded, some he slew,
Dispersed the rest,--what more could Samson do?
True to his friends, a terror to his foes,
Here now in peace his honour'd bones repose.
Below, in bas-relief, he is represented struggling with the tiger, both
the combatants appearing in the attitude of wrestlers. He is also
depicted in the performance of the yet more wonderful achievement, the
discomfiture of the "thrice twenty mounted Moors," who are all flying
before him.
In Yarmouth churchyard, a monumental inscription tells a painful story as
follows:--
To the memory of GEORGE GRIFFITHS, of the Shropshire Militia, who died
Feb 26th, 1807, in consequence of a blow received in a quarrel with
his comrade.
Time flies away as nature on its wing,
I in a battle died (not for my King).
Words with my brother soldier did take place,
Which shameful is, and always brings disgrace.
Think not the worse of him who doth remain,
For he as well as I might have been slain.