Similar epitaphs to the foregoing may be found in many graveyards in this country. In Micklehurst churchyard, an inscription runs thus:--

Life is an Inn, where all men bait, The waiter, Time, the landlord, Fate; Death is the score by all men due, I've paid my shot--and so must you.

In the old burial-ground in Castle Street, Hull, on the gravestone of a boy, a slightly different version of the rhyme appears:--

In memory of JOHN, the son of JOHN and ANN BYWATER, died 25th January, 1815, aged 14 years.

Life's like an Inn, where Travellers stay, Some only breakfast and away; Others to dinner stay and are full fed; The oldest only sup and go to bed; Long is the bill who lingers out the day, Who goes the soonest has the least to pay.

The churchyard of Melton Mowbray furnishes another rendering of the lines:--

This world's an Inn, and I her guest: I've eat and drank and took my rest With her awhile, and now I pay Her lavish bill and go my way.

The foregoing inscriptions, comparing life to a house, remind us of a curious inscription in Folkestone churchyard:--

In memory of REBECCA ROGERS, who died Aug. 22, 1688, Aged 44 years.

A house she hath, it's made of such good fashion, A tenant ne'er shall pay for reparation, Nor will her landlord ever raise the rent, Or turn her out of doors for non-payment; From chimney money, too, this call is free, To such a house, who would not tenant be.

In "Chronicles of the Tombs," by Thomas Joseph Pettigrew, published in 1857, it is stated respecting the foregoing epitaph: "Smoke money or chimney money is now collected at Battle, in Suss.e.x, each householder paying one penny to the Lord of the Manor. It is also levied upon the inhabitants of the New Forest, in Hants, for the right of cutting peat and turf for fuel. And from 'Audley's Companion to the Almanac,' page 76, we learn that 'anciently, even in England, Whitsun farthings, or smoke farthings, were a composition for offerings made in the Whitsun week, by every man who occupied a house with a chimney, to the cathedral of the diocese in which he lived.' The late Mr. E. B. Price has observed, in _Notes and Queries_ (Vol. ii., p. 379), that there is a church at Northampton, upon which is an inscription recording that the expense of repairing it was defrayed by a grant of chimney money for, I believe, seven years, temp. Charles II."

[Ill.u.s.tration: SIGN OF THE BOAR'S HEAD.]

In bygone times the "Boar's Head" was a common tavern sign, and this is not surprising for the animal figures in English history, poetry, romance and popular pastimes. The most famous inn bearing the t.i.tle of the "Boar's Head" was that in Eastcheap, London. The earliest mention of this tavern occurs in the testament of William Warden in the days of Richard II., who gave "all that tenement called the Boar's Head in Eastcheap to a college of priests, or chaplain, founded by Sir William Walworth, the Lord Mayor, in the adjoining church of St. Michael, Crooked Lane." It was here that Prince Hal and "honest Jack Falstaff" played their pranks. At the door of the house until the Great Fire were carved figures of the two worthies. In the works of Goldsmith will be found a charming chapter called "Reflections in the Boar's Head Tavern, Eastcheap"; anyone interested in this old place should not fail to read it. In his pleasant day-dreams he forgets the important fact that the original house perished in the Great Fire. In the Guildhall Library is preserved the stone sign from the old house, which was pulled down in 1831 to make way for the streets leading to the new London Bridge. We give a picture of this old-time sign on the opposite page.

A famous waiter of this tavern was buried in the graveyard of St.

Michael's Church, hard by, and a monument of Purbeck stone was placed to his memory bearing an interesting inscription. We give a picture of the gravestone, which has been removed to the yard of St. Magnus the Martyr.

[Ill.u.s.tration: PRESTON'S TOMBSTONE AT ST. MAGNUS THE MARTYR.]

The next example from Abesford, on an exciseman, is ent.i.tled to a place among Baccha.n.a.lian epitaphs:--

No supervisor's check he fears-- Now no commissioner obeys; He's free from cares, entreaties, tears, And all the heavenly oil surveys.

In the churchyard of North Wingfield, Derbyshire, a gravestone bears the following inscription:

In memory of THOMAS, son of John and Mary Clay, who departed this life December 16th, 1724, in the 40th year of his age.

What though no mournful kindred stand Around the solemn bier, No parents wring the trembling hand, Or drop the silent tear.

No costly oak adorned with art My weary limbs inclose; No friends impart a winding sheet To deck my last repose.

The cause of the foregoing curious epitaph is thus explained. Thomas Clay was a man of intemperate habits, and at the time of his death was indebted to the village innkeeper, named Adlington, to the amount of twenty pounds.

The publican resolved to seize the body; but the parents of the deceased carefully kept the door locked until the day appointed for the funeral. As soon as the door was opened, Adlington rushed into the house, seized the corpse, and placed it on a form in the open street in front of the residence of the parents of the departed. Clay's friends refused to discharge the publican's account. After the body had been exposed for several days, Adlington committed it to the ground in a _bacon chest_.

We conclude this cla.s.s of epitaphs with the following from Winchester Cathedral yard:--

In memory of THOMAS THETCHER, a Grenadier in the North Regiment of Hants Militia, who died of a violent fever contracted by drinking small beer when hot the 12th of May, 1764, aged 26 years.

In grateful remembrance of whose universal goodwill towards his comrades this stone is placed here at their expense, as a small testimony of their regard and concern.

Here sleeps in peace a Hampshire Grenadier, Who caught his death by drinking cold small beer; Soldiers, be wise from his untimely fall, And when ye're hot drink strong, or none at all.

This memorial, being decayed, was restored by the officers of the garrison, A.D. 1781:--

An honest soldier never is forgot, Whether he die by musket or by pot.

This stone was placed by the North Hants Militia, when disembodied at Winchester, on 26th April, 1802, in consequence of the original stone being destroyed.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THETCHER'S TOMBSTONE, WINCHESTER.

_From a Photo by F. A. Grant._]

Epitaphs on Parish Clerks and s.e.xtons.

Not a few of our old parish clerks and s.e.xtons were eccentric characters, and it is not therefore surprising that their epitaphs are amongst the most curious of the many strange examples to be found in the quiet resting-places of the departed.

In the churchyard of Crayford is a gravestone bearing the following inscription:--

Here lieth the body of PETER ISNELL, Thirty years clerk of this Parish.

He lived respected as a pious and mirthful man, and died on his way to church to a.s.sist at a wedding, On the 31st day of March, 1811, Aged 70 years.

The inhabitants of Crayford have raised this stone to his cheerful memory, and as a tribute to his long and faithful services.

The life of this clerk, just three score and ten, Nearly half of which time he had sung out "Amen;"

In youth he was married, like other young men, But his wife died one day, so he chanted "Amen."

A second he took, she departed--what then?

He married and buried a third with "Amen."

Thus his joys and his sorrows were treble, but then His voice was deep ba.s.s, as he sung out "Amen."

On the horn he could blow as well as most men; So his horn was exalted to blowing "Amen."

But he lost all his wind after three score and ten, And here, with three wives, he awaits till again The trumpet shall rouse him to sing out "Amen."

In addition to being parish clerk, Frank Raw, of Selby, Yorkshire, was a gravestone cutter, for we are told:--

Here lies the body of poor FRANK RAW, Parish clerk and gravestone cutter, And this is writ to let you know What Frank for others used to do, Is now for Frank done by another.

The next epitaph, placed to the memory of a parish clerk and bellows-maker, was formerly in the old church of All Saints', Newcastle-on-Tyne:--

Here lies ROBERT WALLAS, The King of Good Fellows, Clerk of All-Hallows, And maker of bellows.

On a slate headstone, near the south porch of Bingham Church, Nottinghamshire, is inscribed:--

Beneath this stone lies THOMAS HART, Years fifty-eight he took the part Of Parish Clerk: few did excel.