Friday. Nov. 25.
The Cliffes wanted us to stay, but we “must go”. I have to answer Lady Margaret’s note, & must say yes—or I dont know what Bummy wd. say. Reading poor Mr. Hockin’s epitaph[1]—& Mr. Reece’s pseudo-Latin one.[2] Messrs. Dean & Sill[3] came, & worked at a translation verbatim. Mrs. Cliffe prayed me for a “new version”. Granted—& praised. Got home— Wrote yea to Lady Madge. Bothered about it.
1. The Rev. John Pearce Hockin, Rector of Coddington since 1810, had died on 26 October. The epitaph E.B.B. read was presumably the following, used on the memorial tablet erected in All Saints’ Church, Coddington, where he was buried:
Heavily my years have rolled along
Nor mirth nor joy inspire my song
Heavily my years have rolled away
And now behold a lump of clay
My mind was vexed by anxious grief
Firm trust in God brought kind relief
2. The Rev. George Reece (1768–1847), at this time Curate of Mathon, was an old friend of the Cliffe family, and had baptized Eliza. It is not possible to say whether the “pseudo-Latin” epitaph was for his late confrère, Mr. Hockin (who had been his contemporary at Cambridge), or for his brother, Dr. Richard Reece, that author of The Domestic Medical Guide and other works, who had died in London in July.
3. The Rev. John Parkinson Sill (1803–83), Curate of Bosbury.
