"She did it the hard way" (Bette Davis)

The famous last words post/game below reminded me of my favorite epitaph, evah. Yes, it's possible to have one. No, this doesn't make me weird. Of course there's always Spike Milligan's famous, "I told you I was ill" (in Gaelic). But for sheer relish, language and content it has to be the one I came across in the church of St. Andrew's, Bramfield, Suffolk on a quick trip to that corner of England about a year or so ago. The church is noted for its detached tower, but even better, it's graced by the memorial stone of one Bridgett Applewhaite.

According to the venerable church historian, D.P. Mortlock, (now that's a proper name, none of this Bluebell Madonna twaddle for him), the Ecclesiological Society magazine of 1846 refused to print the full text of the memorial as it was "so very revolting and profane that we shall not defile the pages of our publication by reproducing it…"

On the other hand, I fully intend to sully the pages of this publication at any possible opportunity, so here's the full text, verbatim.

Between the Remains of her Brother EDWARD,

And of her Husband ARTHUR,

Here lies the Body of BRIDGETT APPLEWHAITe

Once BRIDGETT NELSON.

After the Fatigues of a Married Life,

Born by her with Incredible Patience,

For four Years and three Quarters, baring three Weeks;

And after the Enjoiment of the Glorious Freedom

Of an Easy and Unblemisht Widowhood,

For four Years and Upwards,

She Resolved to run the Risk of a Second Marriage-Bed

But DEATH forbad the Banns -.

And having with an Apoplectick Dart

(The same Instrument with which he had

Formerly Dispatcht her Mother)

Toucht the most Vital part of her Brain;

She must have fallen Directly to the Ground

(as one Thunder-strook,)

If she had not been Catcht and Supported

By her Intended Husband.

Of which Invisible Bruise,

After a Struggle for above Sixty Hours,

With that Grand Enemy to Life,

(But the certain and Mercifull Friend to Helpless Old Age,)

In Terrible Convulsions Plaintive Groans, or Stupefying Sleep,

Without Recovery of her Speech, or Senses,

She Dyed, on the 12th day of Sep in ye Year of our Lord 1737 and of her own Age 44.