Curious Epitaphs, Collected from the Graveyards of Great Britain and Ireland.Andrews, William
General
Curious Epitaphs, Collected from the Graveyards of Great Britain and Ireland.
Andrews, William
Epitaphs -- Great Britain
S. DUCK,
From respect to social worth,
mirthful qualities, and histrionic excellence,
commemorated by poetic talent in humble life.
The above inscription, which Time
had nearly obliterated, has been preserved
and transferred to this Stone, by order of
MR. JARVIS BUCK, Churchwarden,
A.D. 1816.
[Illustration: JOE MILLER'S TOMBSTONE, ST. CLEMENT DANES CHURCHYARD,
LONDON.]
An interesting sketch of the life of JOE MILLER will be found in the "Book
of Days," vol. II., page 216, and in the same informing and entertaining
work, the following notes are given respecting the writer of the foregoing
epitaph: "The 'S. DUCK,' whose name figures as author of the verses on
MILLER'S tombstone, and who is alluded to on the same tablet, by Mr.
Churchwarden Buck, as an instance of 'poetic talent in humble life,'
deserves a short notice. He was a thresher in the service of a farmer near
Kew, in Surrey. Imbued with an eager desire for learning, he, under most
adverse circumstances, managed to obtain a few books, and educate himself
to a limited degree. Becoming known as a rustic rhymer, he attracted the
attention of Caroline, queen of George II., who, with her accustomed
liberality, settled on him a pension of £30 per annum; she made him a
Yeoman of the Guard, and installed him as keeper of a kind of museum she
had in Richmond Park, called Merlin's Cave. Not content with these
promotions, the generous, but perhaps inconsiderate queen, caused Duck to
be admitted to holy orders, and preferred to the living of Byfleet, in
Surrey, where he became a popular preacher among the lower classes,
chiefly through the novelty of being the 'Thresher Parson.' This gave
Swift occasion to write the following quibbling epigram:--
"The thresher Duck could o'er the queen prevail;
The proverb says,--'No fence against a flail.'
From threshing corn, he turns to thresh his brains,
For which her Majesty allows him grains;
Though 'tis confest, that those who ever saw
His poems, think 'em all not worth a straw.
Thrice happy Duck! employed in threshing stubble!
Thy toil is lessened, and thy profits double.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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