CURIOUS EPITAPHS.

MARTYRS’ MONUMENT, EDINBURGH.

Curious
Epitaphs

Collected and Edited with Notes

By William Andrews

LONDON:
WILLIAM ANDREWS & CO., 5, FARRINGDON AVENUE, E.C.
1899.

THIS BOOK IS
DEDICATED TO THE MEMORY OF
CUTHBERT BEDE, B.A.,
Author of “Verdant Green,” etc.,
AS A TOKEN OF GRATITUDE FOR
LITERARY ASSISTANCE AND SYMPATHY
GIVEN IN YEARS AGONE,
BUT NOT FORGOTTEN.
W. A.

Preface.

This work first appeared in 1883 and quickly passed out of print. Some important additions are made in the present volume. It is hoped that in its new form the book may find favour with the public and the press.

William Andrews.

The Hull Press,
May Day, 1899.

Contents.

CURIOUS EPITAPHS.

Epitaphs on Tradesmen.

Many interesting epitaphs have been placed to the memory of tradesmen. Often they are not of an elevating character, nor highly poetical, but they display the whims and oddities of men. We will first present a few relating to the watch and clock-making trade. The first specimen is from Lydford churchyard, on the borders of Dartmoor:—

Here lies, in horizontal position,
the outside case of
George Routleigh, Watchmaker;
Whose abilities in that line were an honour
to his profession.
Integrity was the Mainspring, and prudence the
Regulator,
of all the actions of his life.
Humane, generous, and liberal,
his Hand never stopped
till he had relieved distress.
So nicely regulated were all his motions,
that he never went wrong,
except when set a-going
by people
who did not know his Key;
even then he was easily
set right again.
He had the art of disposing his time so well,
that his hours glided away
in one continual round
of pleasure and delight,
until an unlucky minute put a period to
his existence.
He departed this life
Nov. 14, 1802,
aged 57:
wound up,
in hopes of being taken in hand
by his Maker;
and of being thoroughly cleaned, repaired,
and set a-going
in the world to come.

In the churchyard of Uttoxeter, a monument is placed to the memory of Joseph Slater, who died November 21st, 1822, aged 49 years:—

Our next is from Berkeley, Gloucestershire:—

The following is from Bolsover churchyard, Derbyshire:—

Here
lies, in a horizontal position, the outside
case of
Thomas Hinde,
Clock and Watch-maker,
Who departed this life, wound up in hope of
being taken in hand by his Maker, and being
thoroughly cleaned, repaired, and set a-going
in the world to come,
On the 15th of August, 1836,
In the 19th year of his age.

Respecting the next example, Mr. Edward Walford, M.A., wrote to the Times as follows: Close to the south-western corner of the parish churchyard of Hampstead there has long stood a square tomb, with a scarcely decipherable inscription, to the memory of a man of science of the last century, whose name is connected with the history of practical navigation. The tomb, having stood there for more than a century, had become somewhat dilapidated, and has lately undergone a careful restoration at the cost and under the supervision of the Company of Clock-makers, and the fact is recorded in large characters on the upper face. The tops of the upright iron railings which surround the tomb have been gilt, and the restored inscription runs as follows:—

In memory of Mr. John Harrison, late of Red Lion-square, London, inventor of the time-keeper for ascertaining the longitude at sea. He was born at Foulby, in the county of York, and was the son of a builder of that place, who brought him up to the same profession. Before he attained the age of 21, he, without any instruction, employed himself in cleaning and repairing clocks and watches, and made a few of the former, chiefly of wood. At the age of 25 he employed his whole time in chronometrical improvements. He was the inventor of the gridiron pendulum, and the method of preventing the effects of heat and cold upon time-keepers by two bars fixed together; he introduced the secondary spring, to keep them going while winding up, and was the inventor of most (or all) the improvements in clocks and watches during his time. In the year 1735 his first time keeper was sent to Lisbon, and in 1764 his then much improved fourth time-keeper having been sent to Barbadoes, the Commissioners of Longitude certified that he had determined the longitude within one-third of half a degree of a great circle, having not erred more than forty seconds in time. After sixty years’ close application to the above pursuits, he departed this life on the 24th day of March, 1776, aged 83.

In an epitaph in High Wycombe churchyard, life is compared to the working of a clock. It runs thus:—

We have some curious specimens of engineers’ epitaphs. A good example is copied from the churchyard of Bridgeford-on-the-Hill, Notts:—

Sacred to the memory of John Walker, the only son of Benjamin and Ann Walker, Engineer and Pallisade Maker, died September 22nd, 1832, aged 36 years.

Our next is on a railway engine-driver, who died in 1840, and was buried in Bromsgrove churchyard:—

In the Ludlow churchyard is a headstone to the memory of John Abingdon “who for forty years drove the Ludlow stage to London, a trusty servant, a careful driver, and an honest man.” He died in 1817, and his epitaph is as follows:—

The epitaph we next give is on the driver of the coach that ran between Aylesbury and London, by the Rev. H. Bullen, Vicar of Dunton, Bucks, in whose churchyard the man was buried:—

Lord Byron wrote on John Adams, carrier, of Southwell, Nottinghamshire, an epitaph as follows:—

On Hobson, the famous University carrier, the following lines were written:—

In Trinity churchyard, Sheffield, formerly might be seen an epitaph on a bookseller, as follows:—

The following epitaph was written on James Lackington, a celebrated bookseller, and eccentric character:—

At Rugby, on Joseph Cave, Dr. Hawksworth wrote:—

Near this place lies the body of
Joseph Cave,
Late of this parish;
Who departed this life Nov. 18, 1747,
Aged 79 years.

He was placed by Providence in a humble station; but industry abundantly supplied the wants of nature, and temperance blest him with content and wealth. As he was an affectionate father, he was made happy in the decline of life by the deserved eminence of his eldest son,

Edward Cave,

who, without interest, fortune, or connection, by the native force of his own genius, assisted only by a classical education, which he received at the Grammar School of this town, planned, executed, and established a literary work called

The Gentleman’s Magazine,

whereby he acquired an ample fortune, the whole of which devolved to his family.

Here also lies
The body of William Cave,

second son of the said Joseph Cave, who died May 2, 1757, aged 62 years, and who, having survived his elder brother,

Edward Cave,

inherited from him a competent estate; and, in gratitude to his benefactor, ordered this monument to perpetuate his memory.

The well-known blacksmith’s epitaph, said to be written by the poet Hayley, may be found in many churchyards in this country. It formed the subject of a sermon delivered on Sunday, the 27th day of August, 1837, by the then Vicar of Crich, Derbyshire, to a large assembly. We are told that the vicar appeared much excited, and read the prayers in a hurried manner. Without leaving the desk, he proceeded to address his flock for the last time; and the following is the substance thereof: “To-morrow, my friends, this living will be vacant, and if any one of you is desirous of becoming my successor he has now an opportunity. Let him use his influence, and who can tell but he may be honoured with the title of Vicar of Crich. As this is my last address, I shall only say, had I been a blacksmith, or a son of Vulcan, the following lines might not have been inappropriate:—

If you expect anything more, you are deceived; for I shall only say, Friends, farewell, farewell!” The effect of this address was too visible to pass unnoticed. Some appeared as if awakened from a fearful dream, and gazed at each other in silent astonishment; others for whom it was too powerful for their risible nerves to resist, burst into boisterous laughter, while one and all slowly retired from the scene, to exercise their future cogitations on the farewell discourse of their late pastor.

From Silkstone churchyard we have the following on a potter and his wife:—

In memory of John Taylor, of Silkstone, potter, who departed this life, July 14th, Anno Domini 1815, aged 72 years.

Also Hannah, his wife, who departed this life, August 13th. 1815, aged 68 years.

On a poor woman who kept an earthenware shop at Chester, the following epitaph was composed:—

Our next is from the churchyard of Aliscombe, Devonshire:—

Here lies the remains of James Pady, brickmaker, late of this parish, in hope that his clay will be re-moulded in a workmanlike manner, far superior to his former perishable materials.

In the old churchyard of Bullingham, on the gravestone of a builder, the following lines appear:—

In Colton churchyard, Staffordshire, is a mason’s tombstone decorated with carving of square and compass, in relief, and bearing the following characteristic inscription:—

In the churchyard of Longnor, the following quaint epitaph is placed over the remains of a carpenter:—

Here are some witty lines on a carpenter named John Spong, who died 1739, and is buried in Ockham churchyard:—

Our next is from Hessle, near Hull, and is said to have been inscribed on a tombstone placed over the remains of George Prissick, plumber and glazier:—

On a dyer, from the church of St. Nicholas, Yarmouth, we have as follows:—

In Sleaford churchyard, on Henry Fox, a weaver, the following lines are inscribed:—

Our next epitaph, from Weston, is placed over the remains of a useful member of society in his time:—

On an Oxford bellows-maker, the following lines were written:—

The next epitaph, on Joseph Blakett, poet and shoemaker of Seaham, is said to be from Byron’s pen:—

The following lines are on a cobbler:—

Respecting Robert Gray, a correspondent writes: He was a native of Taunton, and at an early age he lost his parents, and went to London to seek his fortune. Here, as an errand boy, he behaved so well, that his master took him apprentice, and afterwards set him up in business, by which he made a large fortune. In his old age he retired from trade and returned to Taunton, where he founded a hospital. On his monument is the following inscription:—

He died at the age of 65 years, in 1635.

In Rotherham churchyard the following is inscribed on a miller:—

On a Bristol baker we have the following:—

Here lie Tho. Turar, and Mary, his wife. He was twice Master of the Company of Bakers, and twice Churchwarden of this parish. He died March 6, 1654. She died May 8th, 1643.

On the tomb of an auctioneer in the churchyard at Corby, in the county of Lincoln, is the following:—

In Wimbledon churchyard is the grave of John Martin, a natural son of Don John Emanuel, King of Portugal. He was sent to this country about the year 1712, to be out of the way of his friends, and after several changes of circumstances, ultimately became a gardener. It will be seen from the following epitaph that he won the esteem of his employers:—

To the memory of John Martin, gardener, a native of Portugal, who cultivated here, with industry and success, the same ground under three masters, forty years.

This character of him is given to posterity by his last master, willingly because deservedly, as a lasting testimony of his great regard for so good a servant.

He died March 30th, 1760. Aged 66 years.

The next is on the Tradescants, famous gardeners and botanists at Lambeth. In 1657 Mr. Tradescant, junr., presented to the Ashmolean Museum, Oxford, a remarkable cabinet of curiosities:—

We have here an epitaph on a grocer, culled from the Rev. C. W. Bardsley’s “Memorials of St. Anne’s Church,” Manchester. In a note about the name of Howard, the author says: “Poor John Howard’s friends gave him an unfortunate epitaph—one, too, that reflected unkindly upon his wife. It may still be seen in the churchyard.—Here lyeth the body of John Howard, who died Jan. 2, 1800, aged 84 years; fifty years a respectable grocer, and an honest man. As it is further stated that his wife died in 1749, fifty years before, it would seem that her husband’s honesty dated from the day of her decease. Mrs. Malaprop herself, in her happiest moments, could not have beaten this inscription.”

Typographical Epitaphs.

The trade of printer is rich in technical terms available for the writer of epitaphs, as will be seen from the following examples.

Our first inscription is from St. Margaret’s Church, Westminster, placed in remembrance of England’s benefactor, the first English printer:—

To the memory of
William Caxton,
who first introduced into Great Britain
the Art of Printing;
And who, A.D. 1477 or earlier, exercised that art in the
Abbey of Westminster.
This Tablet,
In remembrance of one to whom the literature of this
country is so largely indebted, was raised,
anno Domini MDCCCXX.,
by the Roxburghe Club,
Earl Spencer, K.G., President.

In St. Giles’ Cathedral Church, Edinburgh, is the Chepman aisle, founded by the man who introduced printing into North Britain. Dr. William Chambers, by whose munificence this stately church was restored, had placed in the aisle, bearing Chepman’s name, a brass tablet having the following inscription:—

To the Memory of
Walter Chepman,
designated the Scottish Caxton,
who under the auspices of James IV.
and his Queen, Margaret, introduced
the art of printing into Scotland
1507

founded this aisle in
honour of the King, Queen, and
their family, 1513. Died 1532.
This tablet is gratefully inscribed by
William Chambers, ll.d.

The next is in memory of one Edward Jones, ob. 1705, æt. 53. He was the “Gazette” Printer of the Savoy, and the following epitaph was appended to an elegy, entitled, “The Mercury Hawkers in Mourning,” and published on the occasion of his death:—

It has been truthfully said that the life of Benjamin Franklin is stranger than fiction. He was a self-made man, gaining distinction as a printer, journalist, author, electrician, natural philosopher, statesman, and diplomatist. The “Autobiography and Letters of Benjamin Franklin” has been extensively circulated, and must ever remain a popular book; young men and women cannot fail to peruse its pages without pleasure and profit.

In collections of epitaphs and books devoted to literary curiosities, a quaint epitaph said to have been written by Franklin frequently finds a place. He was not, however, the original composer of the epitaph, but imitated it for himself. Jacob Tonson, a famous bookseller, died in 1735, and a Latin epitaph was written on him by an Eton scholar. It is printed in the Gentleman’s Magazine, February, 1736, with a diffuse paraphrase in English verse. The following is at all events a conciser version:—

The volume
of
his life being finished
here is the end of
Jacob Tonson.
Weep authors and break your pens;
Your Tonson effaced from the book,
is no more,
but print the last inscription on the title
page of death,
for fear that delivered to the press
of the grave
the Editor should want a title:
Here lies a bookseller,
The leaf of his life being finished,
Awaiting a new edition,
Augmented and corrected.

The following is Franklin’s epitaph for himself:

The body
of
Benjamin Franklin,
Printer
(Like the cover of an old book,
its contents torn out,
And stript of its lettering and gilding),
Lies here, food for worms.
But the work itself shall not be lost,
For it will, as he believed, appear once more,
In a new and more elegant edition,
Revised and corrected
By
The Author.

But it is not at all certain that Franklin was not the earlier writer, for the epitaph was certainly a production of the first years of manhood—probably 1727. There are other epitaphs from which he may have taken the idea; that, on the famous John Cotton at Boston, for instance, in which he is likened to a Bible:—

There is a similar conceit in the epitaph on John Foster, the Boston printer. Franklin would probably have seen both of these.

On the 17th April, 1790, at the age of eighty-four years, passed away the sturdy patriot and sagacious writer. His mortal remains rest with those of his wife in the burial-ground of Christ Church, Philadelphia. A plain flat stone covers the grave, bearing the following simple inscription:—

This is the inscription which he directed, in his will, to be placed on his tomb. We give a picture of the quiet corner where the good man and his worthy wife are buried. English as well as American visitors to the city usually wend their way to the last resting-place of the famous man we delight to honour.

FRANKLIN’S GRAVE.

A printer’s sentiment inscribed to the memory of Franklin is worth reproducing:—

Benjamin Franklin, the * of his profession; the type of honesty; the ! of all; and although the ☞ of death put a . to his existence, each § of his life is without a ||.

Dr. Franklin’s parents were buried in one grave in the old Grancey Cemetery, beside Park Street Church, Boston, Mass. He placed a marble monument to their memory, bearing the following inscription:—

Josiah Franklin
and
Abiah, his wife,
Lie here interred.
They lived lovingly together, in wedlock,
Fifty-five years;
And without an estate, or any gainful employment,
By constant labour and honest industry
(With God’s blessing),
Maintained a large family comfortably;
And brought up thirteen children and seven
grand-children
Reputably.
From this instance, reader,
Be encouraged to diligence in thy calling,
And distrust not Providence.
He was a pious and prudent man,
She a discreet and virtuous woman.
Their youngest son,
In filial regard to their memory,
Places this stone.
J. F., Born 1655; Died 1744 ÆT 89.
A. F., Born 1667; Died 1752 ÆT 85.

It is satisfactory to learn that, when the stone became dilapidated, the citizens of Boston replaced it with a granite obelisk.

A notable epitaph was that of George Faulkner, alderman and printer, of Dublin, who died in 1775:—

In the churchyard of Bury St. Edmunds, Suffolk, is a good specimen of a typographical epitaph, placed in remembrance of a noted printer, who died in the year 1818. It reads as follows:—

Here lie the remains of L. Gedge, Printer.
Like a worn-out character, he has returned to the Founder,
Hoping that he will be re-cast in a better and
more perfect mould.

Our next example is profuse of puns, some of which are rather obscure to younger readers, owing to the disuse of the old wooden press. It is the epitaph of a Scotch printer:—

Sacred to the memory of
Adam Williamson,
Pressman-printer, in Edinburgh,
Who died Oct. 3, 1832,
Aged 72 years.
All my stays are loosed;
My cap is thrown off; my head is worn out;
My box is broken;
My spindle and bar have lost their power;
My till is laid aside;
Both legs of my crane are turned out of their path;
My platen can make no impression;
My winter hath no spring;
My rounce will neither roll out nor in;
Stone, coffin, and carriage have all failed;
The hinges of my tympan and frisket are immovable;
My long and short ribs are rusted;
My cheeks are much worm-eaten and mouldering
away:
My press is totally down:
The volume of my life is finished,
Not without many errors;
Most of them have arisen from bad composition, and
are to be attributed more to the chase than the
press;
There are also a great number of my own;
Misses, scuffs, blotches, blurs, and bad register;
But the true and faithful Superintendent has undertaken
to correct the whole.
When the machine is again set up
(incapable of decay),
A new and perfect edition of my life will appear,
Elegantly bound for duration, and every way fitted
for the grand Library of the Great Author.

The next specimen is less satisfactory, because devoid of the hope that should encircle the death of the Christian. It is the epitaph which Baskerville, the celebrated Birmingham printer and type founder, directed to be placed upon a tomb of masonry in the shape of a cone, and erected over his remains:—

Stranger
Beneath this cone, in unconsecrated ground,
A friend to the liberties of mankind
Directed his body to be inurned.
May the example contribute to emancipate thy mind
from the idle fears of superstition, and the
wicked arts of priestcraft.

It is recorded that “The tomb has long since been overturned, and even the remains of the man himself desecrated and dispersed till the final day of resurrection, when the atheism which in his later years he professed will receive assuredly so complete and overwhelming a refutation.”

In 1599 died Christopher Barker, one of the most celebrated of the sixteenth century typographers, printer to Queen Elizabeth—to whom, in fact, the present patent held by Eyre and Spottiswoode can be traced back in unbroken succession.

We will bring to a close our examples of typographical epitaphs with the following, copied from the graveyard of St. Michael’s, Coventry, on a worthy printer who was engaged over sixty years as a compositor on the Coventry Mercury:—

Here
lies inter’d
the mortal remains
of
John Hulm,
Printer,
who, like an old, worn-out type,
battered by frequent use,
reposes in the grave.
But not without a hope that at some future time
he might be cast in the mould of righteousness,
And safely locked-up
in the chase of immortality.
He was distributed from the board of life
on the 9th day of Sept., 1827,
Aged 75.
Regretted by his employers,
and respected by his fellow artists.

Good and Faithful Servants.

Our graveyards contain many tombstones inscribed to the memory of old servants. Frequently these memorials have been raised by their employers to show appreciation for faithful discharge of duty and good conduct of life. A few specimens of this class of epitaph can hardly fail to interest the reader.

Near to Chatsworth, Derbyshire, the seat of the Duke of Devonshire, is the model village of Edensor, with its fine church, from the design of Sir Gilbert Scott, reared on the site of an old structure. The church and graveyard contain numerous touching memorials to the memory of noblemen and their servants. In remembrance of the latter the following are of interest. The first is engraved on a brass plate near the chancel arch:—

A tombstone in the churchyard to the memory of James Brousard, who died in 1762, aged seventy-six years, states:—

On a gravestone over the remains of William Mather, 1818, are the following lines:—

We obtain from a memorial stone at Disley Church a record of longevity:—

Here Lyeth Interred the
Body of Joseph Watson, Bur-
ied June the third 1753,
Aged 104 years. He was
Park Keeper at Lyme more
than 64 years, and was ye First
that Perfected the art of Dri-
ving ye Stags. Here also Lyeth
the Body of Elizabeth his
wife, Aged 94 years, to whom
He had been married 73 years.
Reader take Notice, the Long-
est Life is Short.

On the authority of Mr. J. P. Earwaker, the historian of East Cheshire, it is recorded of the above that “in the 103rd year of his age he was at the hunting and killed a buck with the honourable George Warren, in his Park at Poynton, whose activity gave pleasure to all the spectators there present. Sir George was the fifth generation of the Warren family he had performed that diversion with in Poynton Park.”

We have from Petersham, Surrey, the next example:—

Near the tomb of
a Worthy Family
lies the Body of
Sarah Abery,
who departed this life
The 3rd day of August 1795
Aged 83 Years.
Having lived in the Service
of that Family
Sixty Years.
She was a good Christian
an Honest Woman
and
a faithful Servant.

At Great Marlow a stone states that Mary Whitty passed sixty-three years as a faithful servant in one family. She died in 1795 at the age of eighty-two years.

Our next example is from Burton-on-Trent:—

Sacred
to the memory of
Sampson Adderly
An Honest, Sober, Modest Man
(A Character how rarely found;)
Whose peaceful Life a circle ran
More hallow’d makes this hallow’d ground
In Service thirty years he spent
And Dying left his well got gains;
To feed and cloth, a Mother bent
By Age’s slow consuming pains:
A tender Master, Mistress kind,
And Friends, (for many a friend had he)
Lament the loss, but time will find
His gain through blest Eternity
He was near thirty Years
a Servant in the Cotton Family
and died in its attendance at Buxton
the 30th of September 1760 Aged 48.
Also adjoining to him
was laid his Aged Parent
who died the 21st of February following.

From a gravestone at Sutton Coldfield we have a record of a long and industrious life:—

Sacred
to the memory of
John Fisher, day labourer,
who died May 17th in the Year 1806
in the 91st Year of his Age,
having served two Masters at Moore Hall
in this Parish, upwards of fifty years,
Faithfully, Industriously, and Cheerfully.
He was in his Imployment
eight weeks before he died.
This Stone is inscribed to his Memory
by his last Master, as a pattern to Posterity.

Our next inscription is from Eltham, Kent:—

Here
lie the Remains of
Mr. James Tappy
who departed this life on the 8th of
September 1818, Aged 84.
After a faithful Service of
60 years in one Family,
by each individual in which,
He lived respected,
And died lamented
by the sole Survivor.

At Besford, Worcestershire, is a gravestone to the memory of Nathaniel Bell and his wife, both of whom lived over sixty years each in the Sebright family.

At Kempsey, Worcestershire, is a tombstone on which appears the remarkable record of seventy-seven years in the service of one family:—

To the Memory of
Mrs. Sarah Armison,
who died on the 27th of April
1817
Aged 88 years.
77 of which she passed in the
Service of the Family
of Mrs. Bell
Justly and deservedly lamented
by them,
for integrity, rectitude
of Conduct, and Amiable
Disposition.

We have not noted a more extended period than the foregoing passed in domestic service.

At Tidmington, Worcestershire, is a gravestone to the memory of Sarah Lanchbury, who died at the age of seventy-seven years; she was the servant of one gentleman fifty-six years.

A stone in the old abbey church at Pershore, in the same county, bears an inscription as follows:—

To
the Memory
of
Sarah Andrews: a faithful Domestic
of
Mr. Herbert Woodward
of this Place
In whose Service she died
on the 10th Feby, 1814
Aged 80
having filled the Duties of her humble
Station with unblemished Integrity
for the long Period
of
52 Years.

From Petworth, Sussex, we have the following:—

In the year 1807, died, at the age of eighty-five years, Mary Baily. She was buried at Epsom, and her gravestone says: “She passed sixty years of her life in the faithful discharge of her duties in the service of one family, by whom she was honoured, respected, and beloved.”

A gravestone at Beckenham, Kent, bears testimony to long and faithful service:—

In memory
of
John King
who departed this Life 29th of
December 1774 aged 75 years.
He was 61 years Servant
to
Mr. Francis Valentine,
Joseph
Valentine, and Paul
Valentine,
from Father to Son,
without ever
Quitting their Service,
Neglecting
his Duty, or being
Disguised
in Liquor.

From the same graveyard the next inscription is copied:—

Sacred to the Memory of
William Chapman
of this Parish,
who died December the
25th 1793
Aged 77 years.

Sixty years of his life were passed under the Burrell Family, three successive Generations of which he served with such Intelligence and fidelity, as to obtain from each the sincerest respect and Friendship, leaving behind him at his Death the Character of a truly Honest and good Man.

The poet Pope caused to be placed on the outside of Twickenham Church a tablet bearing the following inscription:—

To the Memory of
Mary Beach
Who died Nov. 5th 1725,
Aged 78.
Alexander Pope
whom she nursed in his infancy
and constantly attended for
38 years, in gratitude
to a faithful old
servant
erected this Stone.

When George III. was king, Jenny Gaskoin taught a Dames’ School at Great Limber, a rural Lincolnshire village. From the stories respecting her which have come down to us it would appear that her qualifications for the position of teacher were somewhat limited. It is related that in the children’s reading lessons words often occurred which the good lady was unable to pronounce or explain. She was too politic, however, to confess her ignorance on such occasions, and had resource to the artful evasion of saying, “Never mind it, bairns; it is a bad word; skip it.”

Dame Gaskoin had a son who obtained the situation of a “helper” in the royal stables. For a slight offence the youth was whipped by the Prince of Wales, when in a momentary fit of anger. It would appear that the Prince regretted his conduct, for he promoted the boy to give him redress for the dressing he had bestowed. Young Gaskoin had the good fortune to be able to introduce his sister Mary into the service of the princesses. By exemplary conduct she obtained the esteem of the royal family. The maiden on one occasion ventured to observe that the rye-bread of Lincolnshire, such as her mother made, was far superior to that which was used at court. This caused the request to be made, or rather a command given, that some of the aforesaid bread should be forwarded as a specimen. The order was complied with, and gave complete satisfaction. The good schoolmistress was afterwards desired to send periodically up to town bread for the royal table.

During a visit to the metropolis to see her daughter the old lady had the honour of an interview with the princesses. She wore a mob cap of simple form, which took the fancy of the royal ladies to such a degree that it was introduced at court under the name of “Gaskoin Mob-Cap.”

We have little to add, save that the daughter remained in the royal service, attending especially upon the person of the Princess Amelia, and the labour and anxiety she underwent in ministering to the princess in her last illness, combined with sorrow for her death, caused her to follow her royal mistress to the grave after a short interval. In the cloisters of St. George’s Chapel, Windsor, is a memorial creditable to the monarch who erected it, and the humble handmaid whom it commemorates:—

King George 3^d
caused to be interred
near this place the body of
Mary Gaskoin,
Servant to the late P^ss Amelia
And this tablet to be erected
In testimony of
His grateful sense of
the faithful services
And attachment of
An amiable young woman
to his beloved Daughter
Whom she survived
Only three Months
She died the 19th of February 1811
Aged 31 years.

Over the remains of freed slaves we have read several interesting inscriptions. A running footman was buried in the churchyard of Henbury, near Bristol. The poor fellow, a negro, as the tradition says, died of consumption incurred as a consequence of running from London!

“Here
Lieth the Body of
Scipio Africanus
Negro Servant to ye Right
Honourable Charles William
Earl of Suffolk and Brandon
who died ye 21 December
1720, aged 18 years.”

On the footstone are these lines:—

Our next is from Hillingdon, near Uxbridge:—

Here lyeth
Toby Plesant
An African Born.

He was early in life rescued from West Indian Slavery by a Gentleman of this Parish which he ever gratefully remembered and whom he continued to serve as a Footman honestly and faithfully to the end of his Life. He died the 2d of May 1784 Aged about 45 years.

Many visitors to Morecambe pay a pilgrimage to Sambo’s grave. A correspondent kindly furnishes us with the following particulars of poor Sambo, who is buried far from his native land. Sunderland Point, he says, a village on the coast near Lancaster, was, before the advent of Liverpool, the port for Lancaster, and is credited with having received the first cargo of West India cotton which reached this country. Some rather large warehouses were built there about a century ago, now adapted to fishermen’s cottages for the few fisher folk who still linger about the little port. Near the ferry landing on the Morecambe side there is a strange looking tree, which tradition says was raised from a seed brought from the West Indies, and the natives call it the cotton tree, because every year it strews the ground with its white blossoms. Close to the shore, with only a low stone wall dividing it from the restless sea, is a solitary grave in the corner of a field, which is called “Sambo’s grave.” Poor Sambo came over to this country with a cotton cargo, fell ill at Sunderland Point, and died; and there being no churchyard near, he was laid in mother earth in an adjoining field. The house is still pointed out in which the negro died, and some sixty years afterwards it occurred to Mr. James Watson that the fact of this dark-skinned brother dying so far from home among strangers was sufficiently pathetic to warrant a memorial. Accordingly he caused the following to be inscribed on a large stone laid flat on the grave, which indicates that he was a slave of probably an English master about a century before the days of negro emancipation in the colonies:—

Epitaphs on Soldiers and Sailors.

We give a few of the many curious epitaphs placed to the memory of soldiers and sea-faring 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:—

The following inscription is engraved on a piece of copper affixed to one of the pillars in Winchester Cathedral:—

On one of the buttresses on the south side of St. Mary’s Church, at Beverley, is an oval tablet, to commemorate the fate of two Danish soldiers, who, during their voyage to Hull, to join the service of the Prince of Orange, in 1689, quarrelled, and having been marched with the troops to Beverley, during their short stay there sought a private meeting to settle their differences by the sword. Their melancholy end is recorded in a doggerel epitaph, of which we give an illustration.

In the parish registers the following entries occur:—

“The mode of execution was,” writes the Rev. Jno. Pickford, M.A., “it may be presumed, by a broad two-handed sword, such a one as Sir Walter Scott has particularly described in ‘Anne of Geierstein,’ as used at the decapitation of Sir Archibald de Hagenbach, and which the executioner is described as wielding with such address and skill. The Danish culprit was, like the oppressive knight, probably bound and seated in a chair; but such swords as those depicted on the tablet could not well have been used for the purpose, for they are long, narrow in the blade, and perfectly straight.”

TABLET IN ST. MARY’S CHURCH, BEVERLEY.

We have in the diary of Abraham de la Pryme, the Yorkshire antiquary, some very interesting particulars respecting the Danes. Writing in 1689, the diarist tells us: “Towards the latter end of the aforegoing year, there landed at Hull about six or seven thousand Danes, all stout fine men, the best equip’d and disciplin’d of any that was ever seen. They were mighty godly and religious. You would seldom or never hear an oath or ugly word come out of their mouths. They had a great many ministers amongst them, whome they call’d pastours, and every Sunday almost, ith’ afternoon, they prayed and preach’d as soon as our prayers was done. They sung almost all their divine service, and every ministre had those that made up a quire whom the rest follow’d. Then there was a sermon of about half-an-houre’s length, all memoratim, and then the congregation broke up. When they administered the sacrament, the ministre goes into the church and caused notice to be given thereof, then all come before, and he examined them one by one whether they were worthy to receive or no. If they were he admitted them, if they were not he writ their names down in a book, and bid them prepare against the next Sunday. Instead of bread in the sacrament, I observed that they used wafers about the bigness and thickness of a sixpence. They held it no sin to play at cards upon Sundays, and commonly did everywhere where they were suffered; for indeed in many places the people would not abide the same, but took the cards from them. Tho’ they loved strong drink, yet all the while I was amongst them, which was all this winter, I never saw above five or six of them drunk.”

The diarist tells us that the strangers liked this country. It appears they worked for the farmers, and sold tumblers, cups, spoons, etc., which they had imported, to the English. They acted in the courthouse a play in their own language, and realised a good sum of money by their performances. The design of the piece was “Herod’s Tyranny—The Birth of Christ—The Coming of the Wise Men.”

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

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.

We have also from Yarmouth the next example:—

To the memory of Isaac Smith, who died March 24th, 1808, and Samuel Bodger, who died April 2nd, 1808, both of the Cambridgeshire Militia.

The next example is from Bury St. Edmunds:—

Edward Parr died in 1811, at the age of 38 years, and was buried in North Scarle churchyard. His epitaph states:—

A tablet in Chester Cathedral reads as follows:—

A British soldier lies buried under the shadow of the fine old Minster of Beverley. He died in 1855, and his epitaph states:—

A GRAVESTONE IN BRIGHTON CHURCHYARD.

The stirring lives of many female soldiers have furnished facts for several important historical works, and rich materials for the writers of romance. We give an illustration of the stone erected by public subscription in Brighton churchyard over the remains of a notable female warrior, named Phœbe Hessel. The inscription tells the story of her long and eventful career. The closing years of her life were cheered by the liberality of George IV. During a visit to Brighton, when he was Prince Regent, he met old Phœbe, and was greatly interested in her history. He ascertained that she was supported by a few benevolent townsmen, and the kind-hearted Prince questioned her respecting the amount that would be required to enable her to pass the remainder of her days in comfort. “Half-a-guinea a week,” said Phœbe Hessel, “will make me as happy as a princess.” That amount by order of her royal benefactor was paid to her until the day of her death. She told capital stories, had an excellent memory, and was in every respect most agreeable company. Her faculties remained unimpaired to within a few hours of her death. On September 22nd, 1821, she was visited by a person of some literary taste, and the following particulars were obtained respecting her life. The writer states:—“I have seen to-day an extraordinary character in the person of Phœbe Hessel, a poor woman stated to be 108 years of age. It appears that she was born in March, 1715, and at fifteen formed a strong attachment to Samuel Golding, a private in the regiment called Kirk’s Lambs, which was ordered to the West Indies. She determined to follow her lover, enlisted into the 5th regiment of foot, commanded by General Pearce, and embarked after him. She served there five years without discovering herself to anyone. At length they were ordered to Gibraltar. She was likewise at Montserrat, and would have been in action, but her regiment did not reach the place till the battle was decided. Her lover was wounded at Gibraltar and sent to Plymouth; she then waited on the General’s lady at Gibraltar, disclosed her sex, told her story, and was immediately sent home. On her arrival, Phœbe went to Samuel Golding in the hospital, nursed him there, and when he came out, married and lived with him for twenty years; he had a pension from Chelsea. After Golding’s death, she married Hessel, has had many children, and has been many years a widow. Her eldest son was a sailor with Admiral Norris; he afterwards went to the East Indies, and, if he is now alive, must be nearly seventy years of age. The rest of the family are dead. At an advanced age she earned a scanty livelihood at Brighton by selling apples and gingerbread on the Marine Parade.

“I saw this woman to-day in her bed, to which she is confined from having lost the use of her limbs. She has even now, old and withered as she is, a characteristic countenance, and, I should judge from her present appearance, must have had a fine, though perhaps a masculine style of head when young. I have seen many a woman at the age of sixty or seventy look older than she does under the load of 108 years of human life. Her cheeks are round and seem firm, though ploughed with many a small wrinkle. Her eyes, though their sight is gone, are large and well formed. As soon as it was announced that somebody had come to see her, she broke the silence of her solitary thoughts and spoke. She began in a complaining tone, as if the remains of a strong and restless spirit were impatient of the prison of a decaying and weak body. ‘Other people die, and I cannot,’ she said. Upon exciting her recollection of former days, her energy seemed roused, and she spoke with emphasis. Her voice was strong for an old person; and I could easily believe her when, upon being asked if her sex was not in danger of being detected by her voice, she replied that she always had a strong and manly voice. She appeared to take a pride in having kept her secret, declaring that she told it to no man, woman, or child, during the time she was in the army; ‘for you know, Sir, a drunken man and a child always tell the truth. But,’ said she, ‘I told my secret to the ground. I dug a hole that would hold a gallon, and whispered it there.’ While I was with her, the flies annoyed her extremely; she drove them away with a fan, and said they seemed to smell her out as one that was going to the grave. She showed me a wound she had received in her elbow by a bayonet. She lamented the error of her former ways, but excused it by saying, ‘When you are at Rome, you must do as Rome does.’ When she could not distinctly hear what was said, she raised herself in the bed and thrust her head forward with impatient energy. She said when the king saw her, he called her ‘a jolly old fellow.’ Though blind, she could discern a glimmering light, and I was told would frequently state the time of day by the effect of light.”

The next is copied from a time-worn stone in Weem churchyard, near Aberfeldy, Perthshire:—

In memory of Captain James Carmichael, of Bockland’s Regiment.—Died 25th Nov. 1758:

The following is inscribed on a gravestone in Fort William Cemetery:—

Sacred
To the Memory of
Captain Patrick Campbell,
Late of the 42nd Regiment,
Who died on the xiii of December,
MDCCCXVI.,
Aged eighty-three years,
A True Highlander,
A Sincere Friend,
And the best deerstalker
Of his day.

A gravestone in Barwick-in-Elmet, Yorkshire, states:—

The next is from Dartmouth churchyard:—

Thomas Goldsmith, who died 1714.

He commanded the “Snap Dragon,” as Privateer belonging to this port, in the reign of Queen Anne, in which vessel he turned pirate, and amass’d much riches.

We find the following at Woodbridge on Joseph Spalding, master mariner, who departed this life Sept. 2nd, 1796, aged 55:—

In Selby churchyard, the following is on John Edmonds, master mariner, who died 5th Aug., 1767:—

Another, on the south side of Selby churchyard:—

In the churchyard, Selby, near the north porch, in memory of William Whittaker, mariner, who died 22nd Oct., 1797, we read—

Southill Church, Bedfordshire, contains a plain monument to the memory of Admiral Byng, who was shot at Portsmouth:—

To the perpetual disgrace of public justice,
The Honourable John Byng, Vice-Admiral of the Blue,
fell a martyr to political persecution, March 14,
in the year 1757;
when bravery and loyalty were insufficient securities for
the life and honour of a naval officer.

The following epitaph, inscribed on a stone in Putney churchyard, is nearly obliterated:—

Some time ago a correspondent of the Spectator stated: “As you are not one to despise ‘unconsidered trifles’ when they have merit, perhaps you will find room for the following epitaph, on a Deal boatman, which I copied the other day from a tombstone in a churchyard in that town:—

In memory of George Phillpot,
Who died March 22nd, 1850, aged 74 years.

A hero; his heroic life and deeds, and the philosophy of religion, perfect both in theory and practice, which inspired them, all described in four lines of graphic and spirited verse! Would not ‘rare Ben’ himself have acknowledged this a good specimen of ‘what verse can say in a little?’ Whoever wrote it was a poet ‘with the name.’

“There is another in the same churchyard which, though weak after the above, and indeed not uncommon, I fancy, in seaside towns, is at least sufficiently quaint:—

Memory of James Epps Buttress, who, in rendering assistance to the French Schooner, “Vesuvienne,” was drowned, December 27th, 1852, aged 39.

Though Boreas’ blast and Neptune’s wave
Did toss me to and fro,
In spite of both, by God’s decree,
I harbour here below;
And here I do at anchor ride
With many of our fleet,
Yet once again I must set sail,
Our Admiral, Christ, to meet.
Also two sons, who died in infancy, &c.

The ‘human race’ typified by ‘our fleet,’ excites vague reminiscences of Goethe and Carlyle, and ‘our Admiral Christ’ seems not remotely associated in sentiment with the ‘We fight that fight for our fair father Christ,’ and ‘The King will follow Christ and we the King,’ of our grand poet. So do the highest and the lowest meet. But the heartiness, the vitality, nay, almost vivacity, of some of these underground tenantry is surprising. There is more life in some of our dead folk than in many a living crowd.”

The following five epitaphs are from Hessle Road Cemetery, Hull:—