A Cole rak'd up in dust.
His courteous Fate saw it was Late,
And that to Bed he must.
Soe all was swept up to be Kept
Alive until the day
The Trump shall blow it up and shew
The Cole but sleeping lay.
Then do not doubt the Coles not out
Though it in ashes lyes,
That little sparke now in the Darke
Will like the Phoenyx rise.
Our next example was inscribed in Peterborough Cathedral, to the memory of
Sir Richard Worme, ob. 1589:--
Does Worm eat Worme? Knight Worme this truth confirms,
For here, with worms, lies Worme, a dish for worms.
Does worm eat Worme? sure Worme will this deny,
For Worme with worms, a dish for worms don't lie.
'Tis so, and 'tis not so, for free from worms
'Tis certain Worme is blest without his worms.
On a person named Cave, at Barrow-on-Soar, Leicestershire, we have the
following epitaph:--
Here, in this Grave, there lies a Cave.
We call a Cave a Grave:
If Cave be Grave, and Grave be Cave,
Then, reader, judge, I crave.
Whether doth Cave here lie in Grave,
Or Grave here lie in Cave;
If Grave in Cave here buried lie,
Then Grave, where is thy victory?
Go reader, and report, here lies a Cave,
Who conquers Death, and buries his own Grave.
In Bletchley, ob. 1615, on Mrs. Rose Sparke:--
Sixty-eight years a fragrant Rose she lasted,
Noe vile reproach her virtues ever blasted;
Her autumn past expects a glorious springe,
A second better life more flourishing.
Hearken unto me, ye holy children, and bud forth as a Rose.--Eccles.
xxxix., 13.
From several punning epitaphs on the name of Rose we give one more
specimen. It is from Tawton Church, ob. 1652, on Rose Dart:--
A Rose springing Branch no sooner bloom'd,
By Death's impartial Dart lyes here entombed.
Tho' wither'd be the Bud, the stock relyes
On Christ, both sure by Faith and Hope to rise.
In Barnstaple Church, ob. 1627, on Grace Medford, is an epitaph as
follows:--
Scarce seven years old this Grace in glory ends,
Nature condemns, but Grace the change commends;
For Gracious children, tho' they die at seven,
Are heirs-apparent to the Court of Heaven.
Then grudge not nature at so short a Race;
Tho' short, yet sweet, for surely 'twas God's Grace.
On a punster the following was written:--
Beneath the gravel and these stones,
Lies poor JACK TIFFEY'S skin and bones;
His flesh I oft have heard him say,
He hoped in time would make good hay;
Quoth I, "How can that come to pass?"
And he replied, "All flesh is grass!"
Manxland Epitaphs.
Several of the churchyards in the Isle of Man contain monuments of more
than local interest, and will repay a careful inspection. The ancient
graveyard of Kirk Braddan, surrounded with beautiful trees, and situated
in a secluded spot not far distant from the busy town of Douglas, is the
most celebrated. It not only contains numerous modern tombstones of
unusual interest, but some Runic monuments of importance which have given
rise to some strange stories, and suggested a theme for the poet and a
study for the antiquary.
An old time-worn stone near the chief door of the church attracts much
attention. It states:--
Here underlyeth ye body of ye Reverend Mr. PATRICK THOMPSON, minister
of God's word forty years, at present Vicar of Kirk Braddan. Aged 67
anno 1678. Deceased ye 24th of April 1689.
It will be seen from the foregoing that the stone was prepared eleven
years prior to the death of the vicar.
Some of the gravestones bear records of longevity, the most important
being the following:--
In memory of PATRICK M'CARREY of Douglas, who departed this life the
9th December 1851, aged 102 years; also in memory of JANE M'CARREY,
alias Leech, wife of the above-named PATRICK M'CARREY, who departed
this life the 19th December 1851, aged 100 years. They lived together
upwards of 70 years.
It will be noticed that although the pair had lived together as man and
wife for three score years and ten, the widow only lived ten days after
the death of her husband. On many of the tombstones the maiden name of the
wife is given, and preceding it is the word _alias_.
Major Wilks, on his retirement from the Governorship of St. Helena, where
he had the charge of the Emperor Napoleon, settled in the Isle of Man. He
brought with him a black servant, who died a few years after leaving his
native country. He was buried in this graveyard, and over his remains
Major Wilks erected a stone bearing an inscription as follows:--
SAMUEL ALLEY,
An African, and native of St. Helena,
Died 28th May 1822, aged 18 years,
Born a slave, and exposed
In early life to the corrupt influence
Of that unhappy state, he became
A model of Truth and Probity, for
The more fortunate of any country
Or condition.
This stone is erected by a grateful
Master to the memory of a faithful
Servant, who repaid the boon of
Liberty with unbounded attachment.
Governor Wilks was a gentleman of high character, personable and
courtier-like manners. He was a writer of some ability, and was the author
of a "History of the Mahratta War," which Napoleon read and admired. The
ex-Emperor greatly esteemed the Governor, and his departure from St.
Helena, where it is said that he made many wise and lasting improvements,
was much regretted. Shortly prior to leaving the island, Governor Wilks
introduced his daughter to Napoleon, who, it is reported, looked at her
with a pleasing smile and said, "I have long heard from various quarters
of the superior elegance and beauty of Miss Wilks; but now I am convinced
from my own eyes that report has scarcely done her sufficient justice,"
and concluded by most politely bowing to Miss Wilks. In course of
conversation he said, "You will be very glad to leave this island." She
replied "Oh no, sire; I am very sorry to go away." "Oh! Mademoiselle, I
wish I could change places with you." He presented her with a bracelet in
memory of her visit. She subsequently became Lady Buchan, and died in May,
1888, at the advanced age of ninety-one years; and at the time of her
death it was stated that "she was one of the last surviving persons who
had a distinct recollection of the first Napoleon."
There is a curious bit of lore connected with the estate of Governor Wilks
in the Isle of Man; it is situated not far from Kirk Braddan, and called
Kirby, a name corrupted from two Manx words, "Cur Bee," meaning "Give
food." In the olden days the owner of the estate had to provide bed and
board to the Bishop on his journey to and from England, and from this
circumstance is derived its name.
In the churchyard rest the mortal remains of the brother of Mrs. William
Wordsworth, Captain Henry Hutchinson. The poet Wordsworth wrote the
epitaph which appears on his tombstone. The inscription can only be read
with great difficulty, and in a few years will be effaced by the effects
of the weather on the tender stone. The following is a literal copy of the
epitaph, and perhaps the only one which has been printed:--
In memory of
HENRY HUTCHINSON,
born at Penrith, Cumberland,
14th June 1769.
At an early age he entered
upon a Seafaring life in the
course of which, being of a
thoughtful mind, he attained
great skill, and knowledge
of his Profession, and endured
in all climates severe
hardships with exemplary
courage & fortitude. The
latter part of his life, was
passed with a beloved Sister
upon this Island. He died at
Douglas the 23rd of May 1839,
much lamented by his Kindred
& Friends who have erected
this stone to testify their
sense of his mild virtues
& humble piety.
Hutchinson wrote poetry of much merit, and one of his sonnets is included
in the works of Wordsworth. It is autobiographical in its character, and
is as follows:--
From early youth I ploughed the restless Main,
My mind as restless and as apt to change;
Through every clime and ocean did I range,
In hope at length a competence to gain;
For poor to Sea I went, and poor I still remain.
Year after year I strove, but strove in vain,
And hardships manifold did I endure,
For Fortune on me never deigned to smile;
Yet I at last a resting place have found,
With just enough life's comforts to procure,
In a snug Cove on this our favoured Isle,
A peaceful spot where Nature's gifts abound;
Then sure I have no reason to complain,
Though poor to Sea I went, and poor I still remain.
Inside the church there is another monument of some literary interest,
placed to the memory of the Rev. John Kelly, LL.D., J.P., etc., Rector of
Copford, near Colchester. He was the compiler of a polyglot dictionary in
the Manx, Gaelic, and Erse languages. The work has quite a romantic
history. We are told, "whilst conveying the manuscript, on which he had
spent much time and care, to England, he was wrecked between Ramsey and
Whitehaven, but, with great fortitude, he supported himself on the sea,
and held the manuscript at arm's-length above the waters for the space of
five hours." Several other interesting tablets are inside the church.
There is a striking monument in the churchyard to the memory of Lord Henry
Murray, fifth son of the Duke of Atholl. The inscription states--"This
sincere testimonial of affection and deep regret for their commander and
their friend is erected by the officers of the regiment." He was the
Lieutenant-Colonel Commandant of the Royal Manx Fencibles, and died in
1805, at the age of thirty-eight years.
In the Kirk Braddan Cemetery, situated not far from the old churchyard, is
buried John Martin, the celebrated artist, and brother of the notorious
Jonathan Martin, who set fire to York Minster, and the eccentric William
Martin, the anti-Newtonian philosopher. Martin painted some remarkable
pictures, and was a man of genius. He was one of the most popular artists
of his day, although he was never a member of the Royal Academy. According
to the local guide-books, "his latest productions,--'The Great Day of His
Wrath,' 'The Day of Judgment,' and 'The Plains of Heaven,'--owe much of
their atmospheric grandeur and scenery to the residence of the painter on
this island." A marble slab on a large square vault bears the following
inscription:--
In memory of JOHN MARTIN, historical painter, born at Haydon Bridge,
Northumberland, 19th July 1789, died at Douglas, Isle of Man, 17th
February 1854.
Martin was a man greatly esteemed, and did much to promote intercourse
between men and women devoted to literature, science, and art. Mr. Samuel
Carter Hall, in his pleasant "Memoirs of Great Men," supplies a genial
sketch of this artist. "Martin, like so many other artists," says Mr.
Hall, "had a terrible wrestle with adversity on his way to fame. I
remember his telling me that once he 'owned' a shilling; it was needful to
hoard it, but, being very hungry, he entered a baker's shop to buy a penny
loaf. To his shame and dismay, he found the shilling was a bad one. 'So
long afterwards,' added the painter, then at the realisation of his hopes
and aims, 'when I had a shilling, I took care to get it changed into
penny-pieces.'"
A gravestone in the churchyard of Santon Parish Church contains the
following curious inscription:--
Here, friend, is little Daniel's tomb--
To Joseph's age he did arrive.
Sloth killing thousands in their bloom,
While labour kept poor Dan alive.
How strange, yet true, full seventy years
Was his wife happy in her tears!
DANIEL TEAR died 9th December 1707, aged 110 years.
Epitaphs on Notable Persons.
We have under this heading some curious graveyard gleanings on remarkable
men and women. Our first is from a tombstone erected in the churchyard of
Spofforth, at the cost of Lord Dundas, telling the remarkable career of
John Metcalf, better known as "Blind Jack of Knaresborough":--
Here lies JOHN METCALF, one whose infant sight
Felt the dark pressure of an endless night;
Yet such the fervour of his dauntless mind,
His limbs full strung, his spirits unconfined,
That, long ere yet life's bolder years began,
The sightless efforts mark'd th' aspiring man;
Nor mark'd in vain--high deeds his manhood dared,
And commerce, travel, both his ardour shared.
'Twas his a guide's unerring aid to lend--
O'er trackless wastes to bid new roads extend;
And, when rebellion reared her giant size,
'Twas his to burn with patriot enterprise;
For parting wife and babes, a pang to feel,
Then welcome danger for his country's weal.
Reader, like him, exert thy utmost talent given!
Reader, like him, adore the bounteous hand of Heaven.
He died on the 26th of April, 1801, in the 93rd year of his age.
A few jottings respecting Metcalf will probably be read with interest. At
the age of six years he lost his sight by an attack of small-pox. Three
years later he joined the boys in their bird-nesting exploits, and climbed
trees to share the plunder. When he had reached thirteen summers he was
taught music, and soon became a proficient performer; he also learned to
ride and swim, and was passionately fond of field-sports. At the age of
manhood it is said his mind possessed a self-dependence rarely enjoyed by
those who have the perfect use of their faculties; his body was well in
harmony with his mind, for when twenty-one years of age he was six feet
one and a half inches in height, strong and robust in proportion. At the
age of twenty-five, he was engaged as a musician at Harrogate. About this
time he was frequently employed during the dark nights as a guide over the
moors and wilds, then abundant in the neighbourhood of Knaresborough. He
was a lover of horse-racing, and often rode his own animals. His horses he
so tamed that when he called them by their respective names they came to
him, thus enabling him to find his own amongst any number and without
trouble. Particulars of the marriage of this individual read like a
romance. A Miss Benson, the daughter of an innkeeper, reciprocated the
affections of our hero; however, the suitor did not please the parents of
the "fair lady," and they selected a Mr. Dickinson as her future husband.
Metcalf, hearing that the object of his affection was to be married the
following day to the young man selected by her father, hastened to free
her by inducing the damsel to elope with him. Next day they were made man
and wife, to the great surprise of all who knew them, and to the
disappointment of the intended son-in-law. To all it was a matter of
wonder how a handsome woman as any in the country, the pride of the place,
could link her future with "Blind Jack," and, for his sake, reject the
many good offers made her. But the bride set the matter at rest by
declaring: "His actions are so singular, and his spirit so manly and
enterprising, that I could not help it."
It is worthy of note that he was the first to set up, for the public
accommodation of visitors to Harrogate, a four-wheeled chaise and a
one-horse chair; these he kept for two seasons. He next bought horses and
went to the coast for fish, which he conveyed to Leeds and Manchester. In
1745, when the rebellion broke out in Scotland, he joined a regiment of
volunteers raised by Colonel Thornton, a patriotic gentleman, for the
defence of the House of Hanover. Metcalf shared with his comrades all the
dangers of the campaign. He was defeated at Falkirk, and victorious at
Culloden. He was the first to set up (in 1754) a stage-waggon between York
and Knaresborough, which he conducted himself twice a week in summer, and
once a week in winter. This employment he followed until he commenced
contracting for road-making. His first contract was for making three miles
of road between Minskip and Ferrensby. He afterwards erected bridges and
houses, and made hundreds of miles of roads in Yorkshire, Lancashire,
Cheshire, and Derbyshire. He was a dealer in timber and hay, of which he
measured and calculated the solid contents by a peculiar method of his
own. The hay he always measured with his arms, and, having learned the
height, he could tell the number of square yards in the stack. When he
went out, he always carried with him a stout staff some inches taller than
himself, which was of great service both in his travels and measurements.
In 1778 he lost his wife, after thirty-nine years of conjugal felicity, in
the sixty-first year of her age. She was interred at Stockport. Four
years later he left Lancashire, and settled at the pleasant rural village
of Spofforth, not far distant from the town of his nativity. With a
daughter, he resided on a small farm until he died, in 1801. At the time
of his decease, his descendants were four children, twenty grandchildren,
and ninety great-grandchildren.
In "Yorkshire Longevity," compiled by Mr. William Grainge, of Harrogate, a
most painstaking writer on local history, will be found an interesting
account of Henry Jenkins, a celebrated Yorkshireman. It is stated: "In the
year 1743, a monument was erected, by subscription, in Bolton churchyard,
to the memory of Jenkins: it consists of a square base of freestone, four
feet four inches on each side, by four feet six inches in height,
surmounted by a pyramid eleven feet high. On the east side is inscribed:--
This monument was
erected by contribution,
in ye year 1743, to ye memory
of HENRY JENKINS.
On the west side:--
HENRY JENKINS,
Aged 169.
In the church on a mural tablet of black marble, is inscribed the
following epitaph, composed by Dr. Thomas Chapman, Master of Magdalen
College, Cambridge:--
Blush not, marble,
to rescue from oblivion
the memory of
HENRY JENKINS:
a person obscure in birth,
but of a life truly memorable;
for
he was enriched
with the goods of nature,
if not of fortune,
and happy
in the duration,
if not variety,
of his enjoyments;
and,
tho' the partial world
despised and disregarded
his low and humble state,
the equal eye of Providence
beheld, and blessed it
with a patriarch's health and length of days;
to teach mistaken man,
these blessings were entailed on temperance,
or, a life of labour and a mind at ease.
He lived to the amazing age of 169;
was interred here, Dec. 6, (or 9,) 1670,
and had this justice done to his memory 1743.
This inscription is a proof that learned men, and masters of colleges, are
not always exempt from the infirmity of writing nonsense. Passing over the
modest request to the _black marble_ not to blush, because, it may _feel_
itself degraded by bearing the name of the plebeian Jenkins, when it ought
only to have been appropriated to kings and nobles, we find but
questionable philosophy in this inappropriate composition.
The multitude of great events which took place during the lifetime of this
man are truly wonderful and astonishing. He lived under the rule of nine
sovereigns of England--Henry VII., Henry VIII., Edward VI., Mary,
Elizabeth, James I., Charles I., Oliver Cromwell, and Charles II. He was
born when the Roman Catholic religion was established by law. He saw the
dissolution of the monasteries, and the faith of the nation changed;
Popery established a second time by Queen Mary; Protestantism restored by
Elizabeth; the Civil War between Charles and the Parliament begun and
ended; Monarchy abolished; the young Republic of England, arbiter of the
destinies of Europe; and the restoration of Monarchy under the libertine
Charles II. During his time, England was invaded by the Scotch; a
Scottish King was slain, and a Scottish Queen beheaded in England; a King
of Spain and a King of Scotland were Kings in England; three Queens and
one King were beheaded in England in his days; and fire and plague alike
desolated London. His lifetime time appears like that of a nation, more
than an individual, so long was it extended and so crowded was it with
such great events.
The foregoing many incidents remind us of the well-known Scottish epitaph
on Margery Scott, who died February 26th, 1728, at Dunkeld, at the extreme
age of one hundred years. According to Chambers's "Domestic Annals of
Scotland," the following epitaph was composed for her by Alexander
Pennecuik, but never inscribed, and it has been preserved by the reverend
statist of the parish, as a whimsical statement of historical facts
comprehended within the life of an individual:--
Stop, passenger, until my life you read,
The living may get knowledge from the dead.
Five times five years I led a virgin life,
Five times five years I was a virtuous wife;
Ten times five years I lived a widow chaste,
Now tired of this mortal life I rest.
Betwixt my cradle and my grave hath been
Eight mighty kings of Scotland and a queen.
Full twice five years the Commonwealth I saw,
Ten times the subjects rise against the law;
And, which is worse than any civil war,
A king arraigned before the subject's bar.
Swarms of sectarians, hot with hellish rage,
Cut off his royal head upon the stage.
Twice did I see old prelacy pulled down,
And twice the cloak did sink beneath the gown.
I saw the Stuart race thrust out; nay, more,
I saw our country sold for English ore;
Our numerous nobles, who have famous been,
Sunk to the lowly number of sixteen.
Such desolation in my days have been,
I have an end of all perfection seen!
A footnote states: "The minister's version is here corrected from one of
the _Gentleman's Magazines_ for January, 1733; but both are incorrect,
there having been during 1728 and the one hundred preceding years no more
than six kings of Scotland."
Rowland Deakin died in 1791, aged 95, and was buried in Astley churchyard,
near Shrewsbury. His epitaph is as follows:--
Many years I've seen, and
Many things I have known,
Five Kings, two Queens,
And a Usurper on the throne;
But now lie sleeping in the dust
As you, dear reader, shortly must.
In Scott's "Tales of a Grandfather," there is an account of the Battle of
Lillyard's Edge, which was fought in 1545. The spot on which the battle
occurred is so called from an Amazonian Scottish woman, who is reported,
by tradition, to have distinguished herself in the fight. An inscription
which was placed on her tombstone was legible within the present century,
and is said to have run thus:--
Fair Maiden LILLYARD lies under this stane,
Little was her stature, but great was her fame;
Upon the English louns she laid mony thumps,
And when her legs were cutted off, she fought upon her stumps.
The tradition says that a beautiful young lady, called Lillyard, followed
her lover from the little village of Maxton, and when she saw him fall in
battle, rushed herself into the heat of the fight, and was killed, after
slaying several of the English.
In Bolton churchyard, Lancashire, is a gravestone of considerable
historical interest. It has been incorrectly printed in several books and
magazines, but we are able to give a literal copy drawn from a carefully
compiled "History of Bolton," by John D. Briscoe:--
JOHN OKEY,
The servant of God, was borne in London, 1608, came into this toune in
1629, married Mary, daughter of James Crompton, of Breightmet, 1635,
with whom he lived comfortably 20 yeares, & begot 4 sons and 6
daughters. Since then he lived sole till the da of his death. In his
time were many great changes, & terrible alterations--18 yeares Civil
Wars in England, besides many dreadful sea fights--the crown or
command of England changed 8 times, Episcopacy laid aside 14 yeares;
London burnt by Papists, and more stately built againe; Germany wasted
300 miles; 200,000 protestants murdered in Ireland, by the Papists;
this toune thrice stormed--once taken, & plundered. He went throw many
troubles and divers conditions, found rest, joy, & happines only in
holines--the faith, feare, and loue of God in Jesus Christ. He died
the 29 of Ap and lieth here buried, 1684. Come Lord Jesus, o come
quickly. Holiness is man's happines.
[THE ARMS OF OKEY.]
We gather from Mr. Briscoe's history that Okey was a woolcomber, and came
from London to superintend some works at Bolton, where he married the
niece of the proprietor, and died in affluence.
Bradley, the "Yorkshire Giant," was buried in the Market Weighton Church,
and on a marble monument the following inscription appears:--
In memory of
WILLIAM BRADLEY,
(Of Market Weighton,)
Who died May 30th, 1820,
Aged 33 years.
He measured
Seven feet nine inches in Height,
and Weighed
twenty-seven stones.
On exhibiting himself at Hull Fair, in 1815, he issued a hand-bill, and
the following is a copy of it:--