tion>Various
Curious Epitaphs
Published by Good Press, 2019
EAN 4064066236427
Table of Contents
Epitaphs on Soldiers and Sailors.
Epitaphs on Musicians and Actors.
Epitaphs on Parish Clerks and Sextons.
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.
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:—
| Here lies one who strove to equal time, A task too hard, each power too sublime; Time stopt his motion, o’erthrew his balance-wheel, Wore off his pivots, tho’ made of hardened steel; Broke all his springs, the verge of life decayed, And now he is as though he’d ne’er been made. Such frail machine till time’s no more shall rust, And the archangel wakes our sleeping dust; Then in assembled worlds in glory join, And sing—“The hand that made us is divine.” |
Our next is from Berkeley, Gloucestershire:—
| Here lyeth Thomas Peirce, whom no man taught, Yet he in iron, brass, and silver wrought; He jacks, and clocks, and watches (with art) made And mended, too, when others’ work did fade. Of Berkeley, five times Mayor this artist was, And yet this Mayor, this artist, was but grass. When his own watch was down on the last day, He that made watches had not made a key To wind it up; but useless it must lie, Until he rise again no more to die. Died February 25th, 1665, aged 77. |
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
