To the Memory of the ReverendJames Whitehall, Rector of this place twenty and five years, who departed this life the second daie of March, 1644.White was his name, and whiter than this stone.In hope of joyfole resurrectionHere lies that orthodox, that grave divine,In wisdom trve, vertve did soe clearly shine;One that could live and die as he hath doneSuffer’d not death but a translation.Bvt ovt of charitie I’ll speake no more,Lest his friends pine with sighs, with teares the poor.
To the Memory of the ReverendJames Whitehall, Rector of this place twenty and five years, who departed this life the second daie of March, 1644.
From Hornsea Church we have the epitaph ofWill Day, gentleman; he lived thirty-four years, died May 22nd, 1616:—
On the east wall of the chancel of Kettlethorpe Church, co. Lincoln, is a tablet to the memory of “Johannes Becke, quondam Rector istius ecclesiæ,” who died 1597, with the following lines in old English characters:—
We may add that the stream of his charity still flows, and is yearly distributed amongst the poor of Kettlethorpe.
Bishop Sanderson, in his “Survey of LincolnCathedral,” gives the following epitaph on Dr. William Cole, Dean of Lincoln, who died in 1600. The upper part of the stone, with Dr. Cole’s arms, is, or was lately, in the Cathedral, but the epitaph has been lost:—
Here is another from Lincoln Cathedral, on Dr. Otwell Hill:—
TheGuardian, for 3rd Dec., 1873, gives the following epitaph as being in Lillington Church,Dorset, on the grave of a man named Cole, who died in 1669:—
Our next example was inscribed in Peterborough Cathedral, to the memory of Sir Richard Worme, ob. 1589:—
On a person named Cave, at Barrow-on-Soar, Leicestershire, we have the following epitaph:—
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.
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:—
In Barnstaple Church, ob. 1627, on Grace Medford, is an epitaph as follows:—
On a punster the following was written:—
Severalof 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.
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 oflongevity, the most important being the following:—
In memory ofPatrick M’Carreyof Douglas, who departed this life the 9th December 1851, aged 102 years; also in memory ofJane M’Carrey, alias Leech, wife of the above-namedPatrick M’Carrey, who departed this life the 19th December 1851, aged 100 years. They lived together upwards of 70 years.
In memory ofPatrick M’Carreyof Douglas, who departed this life the 9th December 1851, aged 102 years; also in memory ofJane M’Carrey, alias Leech, wife of the above-namedPatrick 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 wordalias.
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:—
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 ofHenry Hutchinson,born at Penrith, Cumberland,14th June 1769.At an early age he enteredupon a Seafaring life in thecourse of which, being of athoughtful mind, he attainedgreat skill, and knowledgeof his Profession, and enduredin all climates severehardships with exemplarycourage & fortitude. Thelatter part of his life, waspassed with a beloved Sisterupon this Island. He died atDouglas the 23rd of May 1839,much lamented by his Kindred& Friends who have erectedthis stone to testify theirsense 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:—
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 iserected 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 ofJohn Martin, historical painter, born at Haydon Bridge, Northumberland, 19th July 1789, died at Douglas, Isle of Man, 17th February 1854.
In memory ofJohn 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 yearsWas his wife happy in her tears!Daniel Teardied 9th December 1707, aged 110 years.
Daniel Teardied 9th December 1707, aged 110 years.
Wehave 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”:—
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 inScotland, 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 waserected by contribution,in ye year 1743, to ye memoryofHenry 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 oblivionthe memory ofHenry Jenkins:a person obscure in birth,but of a life truly memorable;forhe was enrichedwith the goods of nature,if not of fortune,and happyin the duration,if not variety,of his enjoyments;and,tho’ the partial worlddespised and disregardedhis low and humble state,the equal eye of Providencebeheld, and blessed itwith 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 theblack marblenot to blush, because, it mayfeelitself 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 ScottishKing 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:—
A footnote states: “The minister’s version is here corrected from one of theGentleman’s Magazinesfor 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:—
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:—
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 livedcomfortably 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.]
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 livedcomfortably 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 ofWilliam Bradley,(Of Market Weighton,)Who died May 30th, 1820,Aged 33 years.He measuredSeven feet nine inches in Height,and Weighedtwenty-seven stones.
On exhibiting himself at Hull Fair, in 1815, he issued a hand-bill, and the following is a copy of it:—
To be seen during the fair, at the house, No. 10, Queen Street, Mr. Bradley, the most wonderful and surprising Yorkshire Giant, 7 feet 9 inches high, weighs 27 stones; who has had the honour of being introduced to their Majesties & Royal Family at Windsor, where he was most graciously received. A more surprising instance of gigantic stature has never been beheld, or exhibited in any other kingdom; being proportionate in all respects, the sight of him never fails to give universal gratification, & will fill the beholder’s eyes with wonder & astonishment. He is allowed by the greatest judges to surpass all men ever yet seen. Admittance one shilling.
To be seen during the fair, at the house, No. 10, Queen Street, Mr. Bradley, the most wonderful and surprising Yorkshire Giant, 7 feet 9 inches high, weighs 27 stones; who has had the honour of being introduced to their Majesties & Royal Family at Windsor, where he was most graciously received. A more surprising instance of gigantic stature has never been beheld, or exhibited in any other kingdom; being proportionate in all respects, the sight of him never fails to give universal gratification, & will fill the beholder’s eyes with wonder & astonishment. He is allowed by the greatest judges to surpass all men ever yet seen. Admittance one shilling.
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 ofJane Ridsdale, daughter of George and Isabella Ridsdale, of Hampsthwaite, who died at Swinton Hall, in the parish of Masham, on the 2nd day ofJanuary, 1828, in the 59th year of her age. Being in stature only 31½ inches high.Blest be the hand divine which gently laidMy head at rest beneath the humble shade;Then be the ties of friendship dear;Let no rude hand disturb my body here.
In memory ofJane Ridsdale, daughter of George and Isabella Ridsdale, of Hampsthwaite, who died at Swinton Hall, in the parish of Masham, on the 2nd day ofJanuary, 1828, in the 59th year of her age. Being in stature only 31½ inches high.
In the burial-ground of St. Martin’s, Stamford, is a gravestone to Lambert, a man of surprising corpulency:—
In remembrance of that prodigy in nature,Daniel Lambert,a native of Leicester,who was possessed of an excellent and convivial mind, andin personal greatness had no competitor.He measured three feet one inch round the leg, nine feet fourinches round the body, and weighed 52 stones 11 lbs.(14 lb. to the stone).He departed this life on the 21st of June, 1809, aged 39 years.As a testimony of respect, this stone was erected by hisfriends in Leicester.
Respecting the burial of Lambert we gather from a sketch of his life the following particulars: “His coffin, in which there was a great difficulty to place him, was six feet four inches long, four feet four inches wide, and two feet four inches deep; the immense substance of his legs made it necessarily a square case. This coffin, which consisted of 112 superficial feet of elm, was built on two axle-trees, and four cog-wheels. Uponthese his remains were rolled into his grave, which was in the new burial-ground at the back of St. Martin’s Church. A regular descent was made by sloping it for some distance. It was found necessary to take down the window and wall of the room in which he lay to allow of his being taken away.”
In St. Peter’s churchyard, Isle of Thanet, a gravestone bears the following inscription:—
Joy was invited to Court to exhibit his remarkable feats of strength. In 1699 his portrait was published, and appended to it was an account of his prodigious physical power.
The next epitaph is from St. James’s Cemetery, Liverpool:—
Reader pause. Deposited beneath are the remains ofSarah Biffin,who was born without arms or hands, at Quantox Head, County of Somerset, 25th of October, 1784, died atLiverpool, 2nd October, 1850. Few have passed through the vale of life so much the child of hapless fortune as the deceased: and yet possessor of mental endowments of no ordinary kind. Gifted with singular talents as an Artist, thousands have been gratified with the able productions of her pencil! whilst versatile conversation and agreeable manners elicited the admiration of all. This tribute to one so universally admired is paid by those who were best acquainted with the character it so briefly portrays. Do any inquire otherwise—the answer is supplied in the solemn admonition of the Apostle—Now no longer the subject of tears,Her conflict and trials are o’erIn the presence of God she appears*****
Reader pause. Deposited beneath are the remains ofSarah Biffin,
who was born without arms or hands, at Quantox Head, County of Somerset, 25th of October, 1784, died atLiverpool, 2nd October, 1850. Few have passed through the vale of life so much the child of hapless fortune as the deceased: and yet possessor of mental endowments of no ordinary kind. Gifted with singular talents as an Artist, thousands have been gratified with the able productions of her pencil! whilst versatile conversation and agreeable manners elicited the admiration of all. This tribute to one so universally admired is paid by those who were best acquainted with the character it so briefly portrays. Do any inquire otherwise—the answer is supplied in the solemn admonition of the Apostle—
Our correspondent, Mrs. Charlotte Jobling, from whom we received the above, says: “The remainder is buried. It stands against the wall, and does not appear to now mark the grave of Miss Biffin.” Mr. Henry Morley, in his “Memoirs of Bartholomew Fair,” writing about the fair of 1799, mentions Miss Biffin. “She was found,” says Mr. Morley, “in the Fair, and assisted by the Earl of Morton, who sat for his likeness to her, always taking the unfinished picture away with him when he left, that he might prove it to be all the work of her own shoulder. When it was done he laid it before George III., in the year 1808; he obtained theKing’s favour for Miss Biffin; and caused her to receive, at his own expense, further instruction in her art from Mr. Craig. For the last twelve years of his life he maintained a correspondence with her; and, after having enjoyed favour from two King Georges, she received from William IV. a small pension, with which, at the Earl’s request, she retired from a life among caravans. But fourteen years later, having been married in the interval, she found it necessary to resume, as Mrs. Wright, late Miss Biffin, her business as a skilful miniature painter, in one or two of our chief provincial towns.”
The following on Butler, the author of “Hudibras,” merits a place in our pages. The first inscription is from St. Paul’s, Covent Garden:—
Butler, the celebrated author of “Hudibras,” was buried in this church. Some of the inhabitants, understanding that so famous a man was there buried, and regretting that neither stone nor inscription recorded the event, raised a subscription for the purpose of erecting something to his memory. Accordingly, an elegant tablet has been put up in the portico of the church, bearing a medallion of that great man, which was taken from his monument in Westminster Abbey.
Butler, the celebrated author of “Hudibras,” was buried in this church. Some of the inhabitants, understanding that so famous a man was there buried, and regretting that neither stone nor inscription recorded the event, raised a subscription for the purpose of erecting something to his memory. Accordingly, an elegant tablet has been put up in the portico of the church, bearing a medallion of that great man, which was taken from his monument in Westminster Abbey.
The following lines were contributed by Mr.O’Brien, and are engraved beneath the medallion:—
The erection of the above monument was the occasion of this very good epigram by Mr. S. Wesley:—
It is worth remarking that the poet was starving, while his prince, Charles II., always carried a “Hudibras” in his pocket.
The inscription on his monument in Westminster Abbey is as follows:—
Sacred to the Memory ofSamuel Butler,Who was born at Strensham, in Worcestershire, 1612, and died at London, 1680; a man of uncommon learning, wit, and probity: as admirable for the product of his genius, as unhappy in the rewards of them. His satire, exposing the hypocrisy and wickedness of the rebels, is such an inimitable piece, that, as he was the first, he may be said to be the last writer in his peculiar manner. That he, who, when living, wanted almost everything, might not, after death, any longer want so much as a tomb, John Barber, citizen of London, erected this monument 1721.
Sacred to the Memory ofSamuel Butler,
Who was born at Strensham, in Worcestershire, 1612, and died at London, 1680; a man of uncommon learning, wit, and probity: as admirable for the product of his genius, as unhappy in the rewards of them. His satire, exposing the hypocrisy and wickedness of the rebels, is such an inimitable piece, that, as he was the first, he may be said to be the last writer in his peculiar manner. That he, who, when living, wanted almost everything, might not, after death, any longer want so much as a tomb, John Barber, citizen of London, erected this monument 1721.
Here are a few particulars respecting an oddity, furnished by a correspondent: “Died, at High Wycombe, Bucks, on the 24th May, 1837, Mr. John Guy, aged 64. His remains were interred in Hughenden churchyard, near Wycombe. On a marble slab, on the lid of his coffin, is the following inscription:—
On his gravestone these lines are inscribed:—
This eccentric gentleman was possessed of considerable property, and was a native of Gloucestershire. His grave and coffin were made under his directions more than a twelvemonth before his death; the inscription on the tablet on his coffin, and the lines placed upon his gravestone, were his own composition. He gave all necessary orders for the conducting of his funeral, and five shillings were wrapped in separate pieces of paper for each of the bearers. The coffin was of singular beauty and neatness in workmanship, and looked more like a piece of tasteful cabinet-work intended for a drawing-room, than a receptacle for the dead.”
Near the great door of the Abbey of St. Peter, Gloucester, says Mr. Henry Calvert Appleby, at the bottom of the body of the building, is a marble monument to John Jones, dressed in the robes of an alderman, painted in different colours. Underneath the effigy, on a tablet of black marble, are the following words:—