The villagers of Caistor were keen to witness the marriage of an elderly shoemaker to his housekeeper, the difference in their ages being 63 years! The couple, however, conspired to avoid the public and marry in secret.
“The quizzical portion of the inhabitants of Caistor have been during the past month considerably amused with the publication of the ‘bans of marriage‘ between Mr. Thomas Tomlinson, and eccentric ‘English gentleman of the olden times,’ aged 85! (formerly an eminent shoemaker – celebrated in his youthful day for ‘Tally O! the hounds, Sir,’ and throughout his protracted life for possessing ‘a light heart and a thin pair of breeches,’) to Elizabeth Jackson, his buxom housekeeper, a spinster, aged 22! No impediment was declared during three succeeding sabbaths ‘why these two persons should not be joined together his holy matrimony.’ Many great lords of the creation, – matrons, ‘looking unutterable things,’ – simpering misses, – and ready-made ‘fools thick as blackberries,’ for miles around, eager to witness the making of the amorous couple one, became impatient of the happy event’s taking place; and it was slily consummated early last Sunday morning, through the sheer tact of the gay Lothario: the Rev. G. Watson tied the silken bands without clamour, according to request. The candidates for matrimony toddled to and from church in a zig-zag direction, and separately in both cases: they arrived at the temple unobserved, and the veteran then and there, quickly, for the third time, ‘plighted his troth,’ and endowed his lady with all his worldly goods. On their return from church, the bride, accompanied by a ‘brother chip,’ (who had kindly given ‘this woman to be married to this man,’ in the regretted absence of the groom’s godfather!) was assailed with the queerest gibes and jokes ever heard at Caistor, compelled both to take shelter in the house of a relation, and they were ultimately escorted home by the Caistor rural police! By the bye, the son of St. Crispin, unconscious of what had fallen upon his newly-made rib, not like Jacob of old, ‘leaning on his staff,’ but contrariwise wielding it as he waxed warm at his numerous mockers, ever and anon laid about him, but found that in doing so he only increased their mirth: he therefore wisely imitated the stern indifference of a philosopher, and quietly marching away, arrived at his castle to breakfast. – Great anxiety was expressed by many to know how the happy pair were next morning’ and we are happy to state that the answer to the numerous enquiries was that both were as well as could be expected.”
The Stamford Mercury, 1st February, 1839.