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 ||.
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 gravein the old Grancey Cemetery, beside Park Street Church, Boston, Mass. He placed a marble monument to their memory, bearing the following inscription:—
Josiah FranklinandAbiah, 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 sevengrand-childrenReputably.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 ofL. Gedge, Printer.Like a worn-out character, he has returned to the Founder,Hoping that he will be re-cast in a better andmore 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 ofAdam 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 moulderingaway:My press is totally down:The volume of my life is finished,Not without many errors;Most of them have arisen from bad composition, andare to be attributed more to the chase than thepress;There are also a great number of my own;Misses, scuffs, blotches, blurs, and bad register;But the true and faithful Superintendent has undertakento 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 fittedfor 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:—
StrangerBeneath this cone, in unconsecrated ground,A friend to the liberties of mankindDirected his body to be inurned.May the example contribute to emancipate thy mindfrom the idle fears of superstition, and thewicked 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 theCoventry Mercury:—
Herelies inter’dthe mortal remainsofJohn 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 timehe might be cast in the mould of righteousness,And safely locked-upin the chase of immortality.He was distributed from the board of lifeon the 9th day of Sept., 1827,Aged 75.Regretted by his employers,and respected by his fellow artists.
Ourgraveyards 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 theBody ofJoseph Watson, Bur-ied June the third 1753,Aged 104 years. He wasPark Keeper at Lyme morethan 64 years, and was ye Firstthat Perfected the art of Dri-ving ye Stags. Here also Lyeththe Body of Elizabeth hiswife, Aged 94 years, to whomHe 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 ofa Worthy Familylies the Body ofSarah Abery,who departed this lifeThe 3rd day of August 1795Aged 83 Years.Having lived in the Serviceof that FamilySixty Years.She was a good Christianan Honest Womananda 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:—
Sacredto the memory ofSampson AdderlyAn Honest, Sober, Modest Man(A Character how rarely found;)Whose peaceful Life a circle ranMore hallow’d makes this hallow’d groundIn Service thirty years he spentAnd Dying left his well got gains;To feed and cloth, a Mother bentBy Age’s slow consuming pains:A tender Master, Mistress kind,And Friends, (for many a friend had he)Lament the loss, but time will findHis gain through blest EternityHe was near thirty Yearsa Servant in the Cotton Familyand died in its attendance at Buxtonthe 30th of September 1760 Aged 48.Also adjoining to himwas laid his Aged Parentwho died the 21st of February following.
From a gravestone at Sutton Coldfield we have a record of a long and industrious life:—
Sacredto the memory ofJohn Fisher, day labourer,who died May 17th in the Year 1806in the 91st Year of his Age,having served two Masters at Moore Hallin this Parish, upwards of fifty years,Faithfully, Industriously, and Cheerfully.He was in his Imploymenteight weeks before he died.This Stone is inscribed to his Memoryby his last Master, as a pattern to Posterity.
Our next inscription is from Eltham, Kent:—
Herelie the Remains ofMr. James Tappywho departed this life on the 8th ofSeptember 1818, Aged 84.After a faithful Service of60 years in one Family,by each individual in which,He lived respected,And died lamentedby the sole Survivor.
At Besford, Worcestershire, is a gravestone to the memory of Nathaniel Bell and his wife, bothof 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 ofMrs. Sarah Armison,who died on the 27th of April1817Aged 88 years.77 of which she passed in theService of the Familyof Mrs. BellJustly and deservedly lamentedby them,for integrity, rectitudeof Conduct, and AmiableDisposition.
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:—
Tothe MemoryofSarah Andrews: a faithful DomesticofMr. Herbert Woodwardof this PlaceIn whose Service she diedon the 10th Feby, 1814Aged 80having filled the Duties of her humbleStation with unblemished Integrityfor the long Periodof52 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 sixtyyears 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 memoryofJohn Kingwho departed this Life 29th ofDecember 1774 aged 75 years.He was 61 years ServanttoMr. Francis Valentine,JosephValentine, and PaulValentine,from Father to Son,without everQuitting their Service,Neglectinghis Duty, or beingDisguisedin Liquor.
From the same graveyard the next inscription is copied:—
Sacred to the Memory ofWilliam Chapmanof this Parish,who died December the25th 1793Aged 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.
Sacred to the Memory ofWilliam Chapmanof this Parish,who died December the25th 1793Aged 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 ofMary BeachWho died Nov. 5th 1725,Aged 78.Alexander Popewhom she nursed in his infancyand constantly attended for38 years, in gratitudeto a faithful oldservanterected 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 aninterview 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 George3dcaused to be interrednear this place the body ofMary Gaskoin,Servant to the late PssAmeliaAnd this tablet to be erectedIn testimony ofHis grateful sense ofthe faithful servicesAnd attachment ofAn amiable young womanto his beloved DaughterWhom she survivedOnly three MonthsShe died the 19th of February 1811Aged 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!
“HereLieth the Body ofScipio AfricanusNegro Servant to ye RightHonourable Charles WilliamEarl of Suffolk and Brandonwho died ye 21 December1720, aged 18 years.”
On the footstone are these lines:—
Our next is from Hillingdon, near Uxbridge:—
Here lyethToby PlesantAn African Born.He was early in life rescued from West Indian Slavery bya 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.
Here lyethToby PlesantAn African Born.
He was early in life rescued from West Indian Slavery bya 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; andthere 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:—
Wegive 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 ofWilliam 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.
In memory ofWilliam 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 liesWilliam 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 StatureHe exceeded the Military Size;In StrengthHe surpassed the Prime of Youth;AndWhat rendered his age still more Patriarchal,When above a Hundred Years oldHe took unto him a Wife!Read! fellow Soldiers, and reflectThat there is a Spiritual Warfare,As well as a WarfareTemporal.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 interestingparticulars 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, allmemoratim, 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 sinto 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 ofGeorge 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.
To the memory ofGeorge 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 ofIsaac Smith, who died March 24th, 1808, andSamuel Bodger, who died April 2nd, 1808, both of the Cambridgeshire Militia.The tyrant Death did early us arrest,And all the magazines of life possest:No more the blood its circling course did run,But in the veins like icicles it hung;No more the hearts, now void of quickening heat,The tuneful march of vital motion beat;Stiffness did into every sinew climb,And a short death crept cold through every limb.
To the memory ofIsaac Smith, who died March 24th, 1808, andSamuel 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 tobe 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 advancedage 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 wasnot 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:—