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 doom
Of 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 stone
was raised by Subscription
to the memory of
THOMAS 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 years.
What man can pause and charge this senseless dust
With fraud, or subtilty, or aught unjust?
How few can conscientiously declare
Their acts have been as honourably fair?
No gilded bait, no heart ensnaring need
Could 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 now
To 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 see
That angel face no more!"
"I feel, I feel this breaking heart
Beat 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]
[2] Black's "Guide to Yorkshire."
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.