Part 10 (1/2)

He married and buried a third with Amen.

Thus his joys and his sorrows were treble, but then His voice was deep base, 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 threescore and ten, And here with three wives he waits till again The trumpet shall rouse him to sing out Amen.

[Ill.u.s.tration: OLD SCARLETT]

The duties of s.e.xton and parish clerk were usually performed by one person, as we have already frequently noticed, and therefore it is fitting that we should record the epitaph of Old Scarlett, most famous of grave-diggers, who buried two queens, both the victims of stern persecution, ill-usage, and Tudor tyranny--Catherine, the divorced wife of Henry VIII, and poor sinning Mary Queen of Scots. His famous picture in Peterborough Cathedral, on the wall of the western transept, usually attracts the chief attention of the tourist, and has preserved his name and fame. He is represented with a spade, pickaxe, keys, and a whip in his leathern girdle, and at his feet lies a skull. In the upper left-hand corner appear the arms of the see of Peterborough, save that the cross-keys are converted into cross-swords. The whip at his girdle appears to show that Old Scarlett occupied the position of dog-whipper as well as s.e.xton. There is a description of this portrait in the _Book of Days_, wherein the writer says:

”What a lively effigy--short, stout, hardy, self-complacent, perfectly satisfied, and perhaps even proud of his profession, and content to be exhibited with all its insignia about him! Two queens had pa.s.sed through his hands into that bed which gives a lasting rest to queens and to peasants alike. An officer of death, who had so long defied his princ.i.p.al, could not but have made some impression on the minds of bishop, dean, prebends, and other magnates of the cathedral, and hence, as we may suppose, the erection of this lively portraiture of the old man, which is believed to have been only once renewed since it was first put up. Dr. Dibdin, who last copied it, tells us that 'old Scarlett's jacket and trunkhose are of a brownish red, his stockings blue, his shoes black, tied with blue ribbons, and the soles of his feet red. The cap upon his head is red, and so also is the ground of the coat armour.'” Beneath the portrait are these lines:

YOU SEE OLD SCARLETTS PICTURE STAND ON HIE BUT AT YOUR FEETE THERE DOTH HIS BODY LYE HIS GRAVESTONE DOTH HIS AGE AND DEATH TIME SHOW HIS OFFICE BY THEIS TOKENS YOU MAY KNOW SECOND TO NONE FOR STRENGTH AND St.u.r.dYE LIMM A SCARBABE MIGHTY VOICE WITH VISAGE GRIM HEE HAD INTER'D TWO QUEENES WITHIN THIS PLACE AND THIS TOWNES HOUSEHOLDERS IN HIS LIVES s.p.a.cE TWICE OVER: BUT AT LENGTH HIS OWN TURNE CAME WHAT HE FOR OTHERS DID FOR HIM THE SAME WAS DONE: NO DOUBT HIS SOUL DOTH LIVE FOR AYE IN HEAVEN: THOUGH HERE HIS BODY CLAD IN CLAY.

On the floor is a stone inscribed ”JULY 2 1594 R.S. aetatis 98.” This painting is not a contemporary portrait of the old s.e.xton, but a copy made in 1747.

The sentiment expressed in the penult couplet is not uncommon, the idea of retributive justice, of others performing the last offices for the clerk who had so often done the like for his neighbours. The same notion is expressed in the epitaph of Frank Raw, clerk and monumental mason, of Selby, Yorks.h.i.+re, which runs as follows:

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[48].

[Footnote 48: _Curious Epitaphs_, by W. Andrews, p. 120.]

The achievement of Old Scarlett with regard to his interring ”the town's householders in his life's s.p.a.ce twice over,” has doubtless been equalled by many of the long-lived clerks whose memoirs have been recorded, but it is not always recorded on a tombstone. At Ratcliffe-on-Soar there is, however, the grave of an old clerk, one Robert Smith, who died in 1782, at the advanced age of eighty-two years, and his epitaph records the following facts:

Fifty-five years it was, and something more, Clerk of this parish he the office bore, And in that s.p.a.ce, 'tis awful to declare, Two generations buried by him were[49]!

[Footnote 49: _Ibid_. p. 121.]

It is recorded on the tomb of Hezekiah Briggs, who died in 1844 in his eightieth year, the clerk and s.e.xton of Bingley, Yorks.h.i.+re, that ”he buried seven thousand corpses[50].”

[Footnote 50: _Notes and Queries_, Ninth Series, xii. 453.]

The verses written in his honour are worth quoting:

Here lies an old ringer beneath the cold clay Who has rung many peals both for serious and gay; Through Grandsire and Trebles with ease he could range, Till death called Bob, which brought round the last change.

For all the village came to him When they had need to call; His counsel free to all was given, For he was kind to all.

Ring on, ring' on, sweet Sabbath bell, Still kind to me thy matins swell, And when from earthly things I part, Sigh o'er my grave and lull my heart.

These last four lines strike a sweet note, and are far superior to the usual cla.s.s of monumental poetry. I will not guarantee the correct copying of the third and fourth lines. Various copyists have produced various versions. One version runs:

Bob majors and trebles with ease he could bang, Till Death called a bob which brought the last clang.

In Staple-next-Wingham, Kent, there is a stone to the memory of the parish clerk who died in 1820, aged eighty-six years, and thus inscribed:

He was honest and just, in friends.h.i.+p sincere, And Clerk of this Parish for sixty-seven years.

At Worth Church, Suss.e.x, near the south entrance is a headstone, inscribed thus:

In memory of John Alcorn, Clerk and s.e.xton of this parish, who died Dec. 13: 1868 in the 81st year of his age.

Thine honoured friend for fifty three full years, He saw each bridal's joy, each Burial's tears; Within the walls, by Saxons reared of old, By the stone sculptured font of antique mould, Under the ma.s.sive arches in the glow, Tinged by dyed sun-beams pa.s.sing to and fro, A sentient portion of the sacred place, A worthy presence with a well-worn face.