Old Hinchliffe Message Board


New Message Board * Old Message Board Index

Ebenezer Hinchcliffe

Posted by Howard Hinchcliffe (213.122.215.157) on December 31, 2002 at 14:30:54:

This is an extract from the Sheffield Newspaper in 1849 at the time of Ebenezers death. It is thought that he was crushed to death by cement mixer at the time of the construction of the Wicker Arches in Sheffield. It was reported that he was the worse for drink after spending a night out with friends on a stag night at an alehouse on the Wicker.

Can anybody cast any more light on this event?
LINES ON THE MELANCHOLY DEATH OF

E B E N E Z E R
H I N C H C L I F F E
(which occurred November 23rd, 1849)

Late member of the

NORFOLK LODGE OF ODDFELLOWS.

=============================================================

Friends no longer mourn, for the brother departed,
But in charity assist, and in pity spare,
Sympathise with the widow, nigh broken hearted,
And her fatherless children make your special care.

Allur'd by the world and its vanities - pleasure,
Which we all are by nature prone to obey;
In one fatal night, death fill'd up his measure,
An awful catastrophe bore his spirit away.

Oh! who can picture such a scene so distressing,
When his mangled remains were borne to its home,
Or witness a sight without grief expressing,
Of children bereft, in the wide world to roam.

In true friendship and love, he with us united,
And in our favour'd lodge, passed a cheerful hour,
And to serve each brother, was always delighted
In the strains of Apollo whilst in friendship's bower.

His official department, he seldom neglected,
But endeavouring to serve truly, this was his plan,
And by every brother was duly respected,
For he acted his part, like a true honest man.

Oh! never again will he sing " Europe's Glory",
Nor extol that voice we've so oft heard before;
Or chant the "Brave Oak", that old English story,
Or sing of "Dearest Ellen, I love thee no more".

He's gone to the place where in truth we shall slumber
This life's little period, how soon will be o'er,
For each beating pulse leaves but one less in number,
We must quit earthly friends to enjoy them no more.

Then friends do not mourn for our brother departed.
But his offspring protect, and sooth the widow's tear;
It may base the pain, and heal the broken hearted,
And hold out one ray of hope, to those he lov'd dear.

December 20th, 1849. S. Atkinson.


New Message Board * Old Message Board Index


© 2004 Jon Hinchliffe. E-mails welcome!