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, & 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.
In “Celebrities of the Yorkshire Wolds,” by Frederick Ross, an interesting sketch of Bradley is given. Mr Ross states that he was a man of temperate habits, and never drank anything stronger than water, milk, or tea, and was a very moderate eater.
In Hampsthwaite churchyard was interred a “Yorkshire Dwarf.” Her gravestone states:—
In memory of Jane Ridsdale, daughter of George and Isabella Ridsdale, of Hampsthwaite, who died at Swinton Hall, in the parish of Masham, on the 2nd day of January, 1828, in the 59th year of her age. Being in stature only 31½ inches high.
Blest be the hand divine which gently laid
My head at rest beneath the humble shade;
Then be the ties of friendship dear;
Let no rude hand disturb my body here.
In the burial-ground of St. Martin’s, Stamford, Lincolnshire, is a gravestone to Lambert of surprising corpulency:—