An Epitaph On My Dear and Ever-Honoured Mother
An Anne Bradstreet Poem
In this installment of Anne Bradstreet's Family Poetry series, we will be looking at her Mother’s Epitaph. You can see the previous posts in this series here.
Whenever we are on a family road trip, my wife and I have a habit of visiting historic cemeteries. They are a great place for a contemplative afternoon stroll. Walking along the cemetery grounds you pass many epitaphs, and as you read along you start to notice various themes. Certain epitaphs provide a very protestant conception of vocation "Faithful Christian, Loving Father, Wise Counselor", others provide soupy spiritualist comforts "A butterfly too light to dwell in this mortal realm, fly high above the heights of heaven", others serve unitarian platitudes afraid to speak ill of the dead. As you read through the rows of headstones you start to contemplate; what epitaph would befit me?
The obvious yet unstated factor is that the writing of an Epitaph is not a self-directed endeavor. There are no (at least very few) Auto-Epitaphs, and thus an authentic Christian epitaph in praise of the dead must come from a well-lived life, free from gross hypocrisy. Key word authentic. This is a remarkable accomplishment, because this necessitates that close family members witness a pattern of consistency between the stated convictions of a person and the lived conviction of a person, which we know can often be two distinct realities.
Anne Bradstreet's witness to her parent's lives is that they were by and large faithful, righteous believers who married their religious convictions with long lives of obedience to Christ. In her mother's epitaph, Anne describes her mother as a woman who was worthy, loving and obedient. She displayed the love of Christ to those in need by feeding and clothing them. She ordered her household well, dispensing instruction and discipline when necessary. She was not just a religious woman in her words, but more importantly in her deeds. She was very blessed that she lived to see her grandchildren, and leave to them a godly legacy.
Numbered Days
A tidbit that I find interesting is that Anne mentions in both her Father and Mother's epitaphs that they were constantly preparing for death. In her Father's she writes "[He] Oft spake of death, and with a smiling cheer. He did exult his end was drawing near". In her Mother's "Preparing still for death, till end of days". I love that she records this for both of them, as I am sure that the ever-present remembrance of death caused them to order their lives wisely. For the Christian, the fundamental reality of death should act as a sieve that filters out worldly deceit and transient worry. In the words of the Psalmist
So teach us to number our days
that we may get a heart of wisdom.   - Psalm 90:12.
Below is the Epitaph of Dorothy Dudley, Anne's Mother, produced in full.
An Epitaph on My Dear and Ever-Honored Mother, Mrs. Dorothy Dudley, Who Deceased December 27 1643, and of Her Age 61
A worthy matron of unspotted life,
A loving mother and obedient wife,
A friendly neighbor, pitiful to poor,
Whom oft she fed, and clothed with her store;
To servants wisely aweful, but yet kind,
And as they did, so they reward did find:
A true instructor of her family,
The which she ordered with dexterity,
The public meetings ever did frequent,
And in her closest constant hours she spent;
Religious in all her words and ways,
Preparing still for death, till end of days:
Of all her children, children lived to see,
Then dying, left a blessed memory.
