Persons of a cold temperament, and not imbued with the love of poetry, may perhaps smile when it is admitted, that the approach to that tomb was made with steps as slow and reverential as those of any devout Catholic approaching the shrine of his patron saint.
Long was it gazed upon, and frequently was the inscription read, and the following cut exhibits the coat of arms and inscriptions on the blue marble tabular stone, as they were carefully drawn and copied, that very evening:
[Illustration: Coat of Arms and inscriptions]
IN THE VAULT BENEATH ARE DEPOSITED IN HOPE OF A JOYFUL RESURRECTION, THE REMAINS OF MARY ANTROBUS, SHE DIED UNMARRIED, NOVEMBER 5TH, 1749, AGED 66.
IN THE SAME PIOUS CONFIDENCE, BESIDE HER FRIEND AND SISTER, HERE SLEEP THE REMAINS OF DOROTHY GRAY, WIDOW, THE CAREFUL TENDER MOTHER OF MANY CHILDREN, ONE OF WHOM ALONE HAD THE MISFORTUNE TO SURVIVE HER. SHE DIED MARCH 11TH, 1753, AGED 67.
It was a soft, balmy evening; "every leaf was at rest;" the deer in the park had betaken themselves to their favorite haunts, under the wide-spreading boughs of ancient oaks and elms, and were reposing in happy security.
The long continued twilight of England was gathering in, and I still lingered in the consecrated inclosure, fascinated with the unmistakable antiquity of the church, which, although small as compared with many others, is eminently romantic, and I cannot better describe the scene, and the feelings impressed at the moment, than in the words of one equally near as dear--
"A holy spell pervades thy gloom, A silent charm breathes all around; And the dread stillness of the tomb Reigns o'er thy hallowed haunted ground."
It may be proper to mention that the poem from which this is extracted, is descriptive of Haddon Hall, one of the most ancient and perfect specimens of the pure Gothic in England. The poem appeared in one of the English Annuals.
At peace with all the world, and filled with emotions of true and sincere gratitude to the Giver of all good, for the pure happiness then enjoyed, I sank down by the tomb-stone, overpowered with veneration, and breathed fervent thanks to HIM who refuses not the offering of a humble and contrite heart.
This narrative is meant to be a faithful and honest representation of _facts_ and _circumstances_ that actually occurred, and it is firmly believed that none can stray into an ancient secluded country church-yard, during the decline of day, without deeply meditating on those who for ages have slept below, and where ALL must soon sleep, without feeling true devotion, and forming resolves for future and amended conduct.