“Waking,
sleeping, eating, drinking, chatt’ring, lying, life went by;
While of
dying little thinking, down I dropp’d, and here I lie”
One of the
Widow’s favorite pastimes is to wander through cemeteries and read the
inscriptions on tombstones (although not at night. Strange things can be found in cemeteries at night, like
idiot kids who think desecrating tombstones is the height of cool). Nowadays, of course, people don’t have
the kind of stones on which one can write much (or knock over); most of the headstones have to
be a certain (small) size and laid flat and a little below ground-level to make
grounds-keeping easier. Sigh.
(If this
seems to be an odd pastime…. I suppose it is. Genealogists do this sort of thing, you know. In fact, should I ever deface my car
with bumper-stickers, “I brake for cemeteries” will be first.)
Anyway,
funeral art is a fascinating study in itself. It is interesting to see how the ‘spirit images’ (or angels,
or whatever current scholarship calls them now) developed over the years, even
turning into portraits of the deceased, then moving away from death’s heads to
urns and other classical motifs, then again to religious subjects like
sculptures of weeping angels. If
you are interested in such things, check out The Association for Gravestone Studies.
I also
enjoy epitaphs. They are little
windows into humanity, some of them quite funny, and I’ve considered what I
would like the passerby to read on my own stone.
“Here lies
the body of Mrs. Rudd
As
bombshells go, she was a dud.”
I suppose,
though, that if I am allowed a stone (and not just tossed into Potter’s Field), I should have something more useful like, “Of
your charity, please pray for the soul of Mrs. Rudd”.
Mrs.
Rudd’s soul can use the prayers.
On those
occasions when Mr. Rudd annoyingly channeled his inner three-year-old, I
threatened to put this on his tombstone:
“Here lies
my man, and for the best,
Because it
gives us both a rest.”
Or
“Here lies
the body of Mr. Rudd
Deeply regretted
by those who never knew him.”
Or
“Here lies
my husband.
Tears
cannot bring him back,
Therefore
I weep.”
He always
countered with:
“Here lies
my wife,
Cold as in
life.”
(Of your
charity, please pray for the soul of Mr. Rudd.)
Besides
finding gems in the local cemeteries, I have a little collection of epitaph
books. Here are some of my favorites.
Quite often the same epitaph with the same doggerel is found in several
books, with only the names and/or locations different, so I’ve left the names
and locations out.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Very
common are the ‘memento mori’ messages, those reminding the reader that they
too will face death:
“Remember,
friend, as you pass by
As you are
now, so once was I
As I am
now, so you must be
So be
prepared to follow me.”
To which
one replies:
“To follow
you is my intent
But first
must know which way you went…”
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
“If Heaven
be pleased when sinners cease to sin
If Hell be
pleased when sinners enter in,
If Earth
be pleased when ridded of a knave,
Then all
are pleased for __________ ‘s in his grave.”
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
“Here lies
_____________
Who died
fighting for a lady’s honor
(She
wanted to keep it.)”
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
I painted
this on one of the ‘tombstones’ used for decorating our yard at Hallowe’en:
“He called
Mr. Rudd a liar!”
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
For a
talkative person:
“Stranger,
tread lightly over this wonder
If he
opens his mouth, we’ll all go under.”
And an
argumentative person:
“Tread
lightly over her mouldering form
Or else
you’ll raise another storm.”
And a
drinker:
“Here lies
_________________
Died sober.
Lord, Thy
wonders never cease.”
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
“Here lies
_________________
Who shot
it out with four horse-thieves
And killed
three of them.”
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
“Here lies
the body of ____________, who departed this life suddenly by a cow kicking
him. Well done, thou good and
faithful servant.”
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Epitaph
for a beloved Army mule, when the Army still had four-legged mules:
“In memory
of Maggie, who in her time kicked two colonels, four majors, ten captains,
twenty-four lieutenants, forty-two sergeants, 432 other ranks, and one Mills
Bomb.”
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Here endeth the first batch of favorite epitaphs.
====================================================
Artwork
Master of
Mary of Burgundy, 15th century. Illuminated page from the “Office of the Dead”, in the Hours of Engelbert of Nassau.
