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The Romance of Wills and Testaments

THE ROMANCE OF WILLS

The words of the writer are peculiarly apt to describe the charm of wills. But the older we grow, the more do men and women, by reason only of their humanity, absorb our interest. In wills human nature is most vividly and variously displayed. In wills the dead speak, and in a manner live again. The poor and the rich, men learned and men illiterate, all alike have made interesting wills. In some cases humour and pathos are more unconscious, in others opportunity for effect is greater; but in wills of every class, and of every age or form, there is much worthy of remark.

There is unrivalled scope for the imagination in perusing the last dispositions of the dead. How easy it is, with these documents before us, to picture the figures of each generation; the fervent Catholic of the fifteenth century, the pious benefactor of the sixteenth, the "heroic English gentleman" of the seventeenth, the Whig or Tory of the eighteenth; and at all times the homely or eccentric testator who allows many a secret comedy or tragedy to appear, many a prejudice or foible, many a sentiment of resignation or revolt. Some give the impression of peevishness and irresolution, of spite or hate; some of sentimental or petty desires; some of serene care for the future, of dignity and calm.

Little, indeed, in all literature is more arresting than the revelation of personality, the unveiling of intimacies that are seldom seen: in wills these intimacies occur, the veil is withdrawn, in a manner that elsewhere can rarely be observed. Whether they be light or serious, amusing or tragic, the occurrence of such vivid traits in a will gives them a character peculiarly humorous or correspondingly sad. The idiosyncrasy is magnified, the bias more distorted, when placed in such a setting.

On the other hand, the interest of a will may arise not merely or so much from its provisions in themselves, as from our knowledge of the inner history of the testator's life and death. Bishop Corbet, that witty and jovial soul, was one of those fathers who, for all their love and longing, for all their piety, are disgraced by their sons. In his will, dated July 7, 1635, and proved on the 5th of the following September, he wrote: "I commit and commend the nurture education and maintenance of my son and daughter into the faithful and loving care of my mother-in-law, declaring my intent by this my last will, as I have often in my health expressed the same, that my desire is that my said son be brought up in good learning, and that as soon as he shall be fit be placed in Oxford or Cambridge, where I require him upon my blessing to apply himself to his books studiously and industriously."

He had in "health expressed the same" by verse: but the son Vincent, in spite of prayer and admonition, was a ne'er-do-well, and after the Bishop's death a beggar in London. These lines were addressed to him upon his third birthday by his fond but ill-requited father:--

"I wish thee, Vin., before all wealth, Both bodily and ghostly health: Nor too much wealth, nor wit, come to thee, So much of either may undo thee. I wish thee learning, not for show, Enough for to instruct, and know; Not such as gentlemen require, To prate at table, or at fire. I wish thee all thy mother's graces, Thy father's fortune, and his places. I wish thee friends, and one at court, Not to build on but support; To keep thee, not in doing many Oppressions, but from suffering any. I wish thee peace in all thy ways, Nor lazy nor contentious days; And when thy soul and body part, As innocent as now thou art."

Or take the case of the Gills, father and son. Alexander Gill, senior, was High Master of St. Paul's School from 1608 to 1635, and is famous as having numbered Milton among his pupils. A degree of fame is also his for the unsparing use of the rod, which he wielded even upon his son, the under master:

"'O good Sir,' then cry'd he, 'In private let it be, And do not sauce me openly.'"

In his will we see that as he had ruled in his lifetime, so he would have his wife rule after him. "And although it may seem needless to charge my sons so professed how they should honour their mother, yet I hold it fit in and by this my last will to leave this precept unto them as my last remembrance, charging them as much as I can that, as they hope for a blessing of God to be with them, to give her that honour which is due as the law of God and nature bindeth them, and in every thing to harken to her counsel and precept and to obey her and be ruled by her."

Nor is it surprising to find that another son, Nathaniel, "hath refused my correction," and that he has an "unthankful and injurious brother." "To my unthankful and injurious brother Simon Gill I freely forgive all debts which he oweth me, with all demands for other charges of food apparel losses and supplies in his want by which I have been much damnified by him, which in a most charitable accompt would come to above fifty pounds; I forgive, I say, all most freely except one bill of eight pounds, which debt I give to my executrix, with hope she will not be troublesome to him by suit thereof except he become troublesome unto her or her children as his manner hath been towards me and others."

There are other interesting passages, but as a final touch to the will of this stormy nature it may be noticed that he gives "the dust of this wicked carcase to be buried in the dust." Altogether his will confirms the opinion of Aubrey in his "Brief Lives," that "Dr. Gill, the father, was a very ingeniose person, as may appear by his writings. Notwithstanding he had moodes and humours."

Sometimes the circumstances suggest romance. "On the morning of the action between the Portland packet and the Temeraire French privateer, off Guadaloupe, on the 14th of October, 1796," says Kirby's "Wonderful Museum" , "Mr. Cunningham, a passenger, who, in a previous engagement sustained by the Portland packet with another privateer, had evinced great courage, observed to the captain that he felt a strong impression that his dissolution was at hand; and on the enemy bearing in sight, he went below and made his will, declaring his hour was come; returning to his station on deck, in a few minutes a bullet verified his prediction."

So it has been again and again, from the case of Mary Stuart, writing her will in her own hand during the last hours before her execution, or of Archbishop Laud drawing up his will in the Tower, to the case of Se?or Ferrer, dictating his testament in the prison chapel at Barcelona.

Strange histories, it will be seen, lie behind wills, dull and similar as at first sight the majority appears. The history may not always be explicit, but the suggestion conveyed by some gift or revocation, some phrase or fact, may often be completed by the reader's imagination. So Dorothy Skipwith, of Catesby, in Lincolnshire , "did revoke and declare void the legacy of twenty guineas mentioned to be given to Mr. Shomoon, a Frenchman living in Whitehall, which she said she so revoked in regard he refused to come to her in the time of her sickness."

At times we know something of that which lies beneath the surface of the will. The Duchesse d'Angoul?me forgives, "following the example of her parents," all who have injured her, expressing her love for France and her gratitude to the Emperor of Austria. And towards the end she states: "I wish all the sheets, papers or books written by my hand, which are in my strong-box or my tables, to be burnt by the executors of my will." These, we are told, were prayers, meditations, notes which might have caused hurt to the feelings of others, lists of charities and books of account. The will is signed in the name of "Marie Th?r?se de France, Comtesse de Maines," the title which she took in her days of exile.

Anne Davis, spinster, whose will is dated November 14, 1803, reveals, or half-reveals, some family trouble. She directs that "in case of my demise my poor decayed body to be decently interred in the burying ground of Marybone upon the grave where my late dear aunt and friend lays; her name is on a stone, and I desire mine to be put on the stone.... I desire to have a patent coffin lined on the outside with the best black cloth, nails, etc., etc., and every thing that is proper on this occasion, the best hearse and one coach with the black velvet feathers and porters. I desire Mr. William Joachim, Mrs. Joachim, Miss Joachim and Mrs. Toby ... to see my poor decayed body decently buried upon my dear aunt's grave," and "I desire Mr. William Joachim, my executor, will advertise for my brother Mr. William Davis. The last time I ever saw him was the 8th of May, 1794, for he desired to see my dear aunt when she lay dead. He said he was going down to Portsmouth in the agency line. May God forgive him for all his unkindness to me; I freely forgive him, and please God that he may make a proper use of what I have left him."

Edward Roberts, bachelor, of the parish of St. Clement's Danes , was open and emotional: "Whensoever it shall please God to call me out of the world, whether I die by sea or by land, I do give will and bequeath all that ever I have or shall leave behind me at my death ... unto Elizabeth Jones whom I love with all my heart and above all women in the world. And if I had a thousand pounds or neversomuch she should have every groat of it."

It needs no subtlety of imagination to diagnose his case; but one would like to unravel the story of romantic tenderness that seems to lurk behind the simple will of a Richard Mathews, servant to Hugh Hamersley, of Spring Gardens, St. Martins-in-the-Fields. He died on or before the 10th of October, 1779. His will was dated October 5th, and after some legacies, including one to Mrs. Collis, his "late worthy fellow-servant," he continues: "It is my further desire that 5s. apiece may be given to the men as carries me to church, and it is my further desire to be buried in a decent manner and my body laid by a young woman who died at the Rev. Mr. Ellet's some time ago."

That the lover is careful to choose suitably his last resting-place we know from the will of Chrysostom in "Don Quixote." "'This morning that famous student-shepherd called Chrysostom died, and it is rumoured that he died of love for that devil of a village girl, the daughter of Guillermo the Rich, she that wanders about the wolds here in the dress of a shepherdess.' 'You mean Marcela?' said one. 'Her I mean,' answered the goatherd; 'and the best of it is, he has directed in his will that he is to be buried in the fields like a Moor, and at the foot of the rock where the Cork-tree spring is, because, as the story goes that was the place where he first saw her.'" With similar sentiment Sir Miles St. John, in Lord Lytton's "Lucretia," by his will requested that a small miniature in his writing-desk should be placed in his coffin. "That last injunction was more than a sentiment: it bespoke the moral conviction of the happiness the original might have conferred on his life."

In fiction we may realise what terrible deeds or poignant memories are revived and referred to by the clauses of a will. Thus in Mrs. Henry Wood's "George Canterbury's Will" we know, when Mrs. Dawke's will is read, that her husband is the murderer of her child: "To my present husband ... five-and-twenty pounds, wherewith to purchase a mourning ring, which he will wear in remembrance of my dear child, Thomas Canterbury."

But the seafaring spirit has not always run so high, as the will of a Richard French reveals. "At the Cowes in the Isle of Wight the 18th of July, 1636. Whereas by reason of certain disabilities which I have found in myself more than ordinary this voyage, every man being almost disencouraged in respect of the smallness of the vessel and desperateness of the journey, because that my mate Robert Anderson hath by his no small industry and to the maintaining of my credit undertaken this voyage with me and still carefully pursued, I do here in this paper confirm and refer over unto him by deed of gift, conditionally he goes this journey and I miscarry, all the goods belonging to me in the pinnace." Evidently the testator did miscarry, for the document was proved on the 19th of August, a month and a day after its execution.

Thomas Eden, whose will is dated at Wimbledon, August 14, 1803, only whets the appetite: "I, Thomas Eden, of sound mind and understanding, though gradually failing in personal strength from advance in years and what I have gone through in my life, do make this my last will and testament." But many curious items of biography emerge from wills. Sometimes they are accidental or incidental; at other times the testator makes much of them. Philip, fifth Earl of Pembroke, bequeathed "to Thomas May, whose nose I did break at a mascarade, five shillings." Recently a legacy was left to one whom the testator had nearly burned to death, another to one whom a testator had saved from drowning. "I have been very unfortunate," wrote a lady lately deceased. "I thought to have a companion for the rest of my days by remarrying, but am once more stranded and alone."

Sir John Gayer, an illustrious seventeenth-century citizen of London, is still remembered in an annual sermon at St. Katharine Cree, Leadenhall Street, preached by direction of his will in commemoration of his escape from a lion on the coast of Africa. Ezekiel Nash left a charitable legacy for his preservation in an engagement with a French frigate on March the 8th, 1762. A late manager to a shipping company directed that on his tomb should be inscribed the words:

"Let on his soul kind judgment fall, Who did his best for one and all,"

and the following summary of his achievements: "He helped to change paddle tugs to screw, to initiate high pressure and twin screws for ocean-going steamers, to introduce the Steam line Conference with the rebate system, and to start the Shipping Federation, the London Shipping Exchange, and the British Empire League."

Richard Forster, in his will dated November 15, 1728, opens with some remarks on the Church and his position therein. "In the name of God Amen. I Richard Forster, an unworthy minister of Jesus Christ, advanced into the order of Christian priesthood according to the usage of the Church of England, the soundest and best constituted part of the Catholic Church, and intending to spend the remainder of my days in the communion and service of this Church, having by the providence of God and the kindness of my friends been first promoted to the Rectory of Beckly, in Sussex, and after to that of Crundale, in Kent, and lastly to the Vicarage of Eastchurch, in Sheppey, and being advanced into the seventy-eighth year of my age by the distinguishing favour of God with a sound mind and memory, though with a weak body, I do make and ordain this my last will and testament."

It is in these informal wills, naturally, that such delightful glimpses are more frequently obtained, and perhaps one other example may be tolerated. It is late in the next century, very different in tone from the seventeenth-century heroes, John Vincent or John Wakring. Jane Bowdler was an invalid, a spinster of Bath. The language of her will, proved March 4, 1786, is characteristic of the century. "My dear and ever honoured father, from the great indulgence you have always expressed for me I am led to believe that it will still be a satisfaction to you to comply with some little requests of mine, and therefore I will mention a few things which I would beg you to do for me after my death. And first I beg to repeat the sincerest assurances of my duty love and gratitude to you and my mother, and I pray to God to bless you and reward you for all your kindness to me. I wish these sentiments had been better expressed in my lifetime, but I fear my ill health and loss of speech have sometimes made me a burden to my friends as well as in some degree to myself. These considerations will, however, I trust contribute to reconcile them to my death, since the enjoyment of society has long been in a great measure taken away. Let us rejoice in an humble but comfortable hope that we shall meet again in a far happier state to be separated no more. May God of His infinite mercy grant it."

John Boyce, "he being desperately wounded in one of his legs the 25th day of July, 1666, in the engagement with the Hollanders" sets his hand and seal to his testament "first in the presence of my God above, and in the presence of us John King, Robert Goulding." There is a fine simplicity and solemnity in that. The Noble Robert Dunant, whose will is dated at Geneva, August 12, 1768, writes simply and solemnly too. "I the underwritten Counsellor of State, having first humbled myself before God and implored the assistance of His good Spirit to conduct me wisely as well in the present as all the other acts of my life, have made and do make my will in the following manner."

But casual and worldly wills are common enough. A few words on a picture-postcard, "All for mother" on an old envelope, have been thought enough, or have proved enough for a valid will. Mrs. Lirriper's legacy, readers of Dickens will remember, was written in pencil on the back of the ace of hearts. "To the authorities. When I am dead pray send what is left, as a last legacy, to Mrs. Lirriper, eighty-one Norfolk Street, Strand, London."

Such is a common form, diversified by individual and expressive variations, of wills in those days. The Reformation changed the form but not the spirit of these avowals. "I render back," wrote Sarah Ward in 1662, "into the hands of my God and Creator the soul I received from Him, humbly desiring His fatherly goodness for the infinite merit of His Son Jesus Christ and His all-sufficient Passion, that He would make it partaker of eternal life and a citizen of His heavenly Kingdom. My body I bequeath to the earth whence it was taken, firmly believing the resurrection of the dead, and that I shall rise again in the last day, and see God in my flesh with the self-same eyes I now use and no other. The manner of interring it I leave wholly to my executors ... being no farther solicitous for so contemptible a remnant than as it is yet the hospital of a reasonable soul."

But with the fervent eloquence of Thomas Peniston, of St. Margaret's, near the City of Rochester, Esquire , these considerations must be concluded. "In the Name of the most holy and incomprehensible Trinity, Father, Son and Holy Ghost, in Person three, in power one, almighty and everlasting God, Creator of Heaven and Earth and all therein contained, to whose glorious Deity I poor wretch His creature do from the bottom of my heart and soul render most humble and most hearty thanks for all His innumerable benefits bestowed on me, as my creation of nought, my redemption by that divine mystery of the Incarnation and generous Passion of my sweet Saviour Jesus Christ, when I was through the offence of my forefather Adam become worse than nought, my continual preservation in the life present, mine election to Salvation before the foundations of the world were laid, my assured hope of glorification in time to come through His infinite mercy by the mediation of Jesus Christ, and for all whatsoever hath befallen me of good since my first entrance into this vale of misery, acknowledging them all to have proceeded merely of His unspeakable bounty and goodness without any spark of merit or desert in myself, and so much the more am I bound to Him for the same, most humbly beseeching His most glorious Majesty to accept in good part this my sincere sacrifice of thanksgiving as the only oblation which my poor sin-distressed soul in all humbleness of heart and ferventest spiritual zeal can offer unto Him for all those His manifold graces towards me, and that it will please Him for His mercy's sake in the blood of that immaculate Lamb of God, Jesus Christ, to vouchsafe to continue His gracious goodness towards me both now and at all times hereafter, and at the present by the assistance of His Holy Spirit so to direct me in the setting down of this my last will and testament as the same may best sort to His glory, my comfort, and the good of those whom it may concern.... And first as the most principal part I do with a free and cheerful heart bequeath my soul unto almighty God the Creator and Redeemer thereof, most humbly beseeching Him for His mercies' sake through Jesus Christ the only begotten and well-beloved Son of God the Father, in whom He is well pleased, to receive the same into His most holy and gracious protection, cleansing and purging the sinful deformities thereof with the precious blood of that my only sweet Saviour, and to bury all my transgressions and offences of what nature or kind soever in the bottom of the sea, that they never rise up in judgment against me, but that I , through His infinite and unspeakable mercy by His loving imputation of the perfect righteousness and true obedience of that my most sweet Saviour Jesus Christ, who being perfect God became man, and after full performance of God's most holy laws and commandments endured the most horrible tortures of death thereby to save my poor soul from the intolerable and endless torments of hell fire, which of itself it hath deserved, and to make it inheritable to the unspeakable joys in Heaven; of which His most gracious favour being throughly assured by His holy Spirit in my soul which continually warranteth me to sing all honour, glory and praise unto my dear Father in Heaven, who in His mercy, hath created and adopted me to be an heir of His heavenly and everlasting kingdom, I most assuredly hope and undoubtedly expect that whenso it shall please His incomprehensible Deity the fullness of time to be expired, this poor soul of mine being through His all-working power knit again to this my flesh which then shall be made incorruptible and immortal, I shall without end in Heaven enjoy the sight of my most glorious and everlasting God my Creator, Redeemer and Comforter, and there for ever with the holy saints, angels and archangels, laud honour praise and worship His most holy Name to my infinite unspeakable and sempiternal comfort. And as concerning my body which I hope I shall be always at the pleasure of my good God most ready to yield up, I will that after my death the same shall be buried in decent sort by the direction of my executors in the Cathedral Church of Rochester according to my degree and calling."

Richard Burnand, of Knaresborough , gives to his cousin "Dynnys Baynebrigge and his wife two silver goblets, worth in value XLs a piece, with my arms and name upon them, and they to have the use of them during their lives; and after their deceases I give the same goblets unto Anne Faux and Elizabeth Faux." To Guy Faux he gives "two angels, to make him a ring." This Guy is the celebrated and almost mythical figure in whose honour bonfires still flare on November 5th. Anne and Elizabeth were his sisters, and Mrs. Baynebrigge, widow of Edward Fawkes, their mother. Moreover, by the wills of Robert Wilcox in 1627, and of Luke Jackson in 1630, sermons were directed to be preached yearly on November 5th in honour of the discovery of the plot.

In days to come, perhaps, peculiar interest will attach to the will of Mlle. Meunier, the Frenchwoman who sympathised with the views of Ferrer and left him a considerable legacy some ten years before his execution. But who can estimate the value of Raisley Calvert's legacy to Wordsworth, whereby the poet was relieved of the deadening care of money-making?

Changes and controversies in the Church find an echo in wills. Dr. Sanderson, Bishop of Lincoln, whose will was made about three weeks before his death professes his faith at a significant date: "And here I do profess that as I have lived so I desire and--by the grace of God--resolve, to die in the communion of the Catholic Church of Christ, and a true son of the Church of England: which, as it stands by law established, to be both in doctrine and worship agreeable to the word of God, and in the most material points of both conformable to the faith and practice of the godly Churches of Christ in the primitive and purer times, I do firmly believe: led so to do, not so much from the force of custom and education--to which the greatest part of mankind owe their particular different persuasions in point of Religion,--as upon the clear evidence of truth and reason, after a serious and impartial examination of the grounds, as well of Popery as Puritanism, according to that measure of understanding, and those opportunities which God hath afforded me: and herein I am abundantly satisfied that the schism which the Papists on the one hand, and the superstitions which the Puritans on the other, lay to our charge, are very justly chargeable upon themselves respectively. Wherefore I humbly beseech Almighty God, the Father of mercies, to preserve the Church by His power and providence, in peace, truth, and godliness, evermore to the world's end: which doubtless He will do, if the wickedness and security of a sinful people--and particularly the sins that are so rife, and seem daily to increase among us, of unthankfulness, riot and sacrilege--do not tempt His patience to the contrary. And I also further humbly beseech Him, that it would please Him to give unto our gracious Sovereign, the reverend Bishops, and the Parliament, timely to consider the great danger that visibly threatens this Church in point of religion by the late great increase of Popery, and in point of revenue by sacrilegious inclosures; and to provide such wholesome and effectual remedies, as may prevent the same before it be too late."

Similarly, Richard Ward, whose will is dated February 6, 1664-5, bequeaths his "body to the earth whence it was taken, to be decently and Christianly buried according to the order of the Church of England ... wishing and praying from my very soul that this sinful and unthankful kingdom may never forget or forfeit that most miraculous mercy of God in restoring and establishing it." Such contemporary comments are fascinating; so, too, the spirit of the same testator who dedicates his "young tender and only son George Ward" to the service of the Church, "if God shall so dispose his heart, which I trust He will because I am not without hopes that God Almighty did accept of my solemn dedication of him before he was formed in the womb. And the good God be his guide and portion." It is not surprising to find this gentle spirit "languishing under the fatherly visitation of my most gracious God, to whose good pleasure I with all cheerfulness submit," and speaking of his "dear sweet wife" and "dear and tenderly loving wife."

The Restoration is a landmark in history. But there are passages in wills which recall the clash of controversialists forgotten now, yet provocative of fierce animosities in their time. Edward Evanson, who became Rector of Tewkesbury in 1769, was a modernist and innovator, a Richard Meynell of his day. In reading the services he would adapt words or phrases at pleasure, and in the lessons point out errors of translation. But a crisis was provoked by a sermon on the Resurrection preached at Easter, 1771. He was prosecuted in the Consistory Court of Gloucester, for "depraving the public worship of God contained in the liturgy of the Church of England, asserting the same to be superstitious and unchristian, preaching, writing, and conversing against the creeds and the divinity of our Saviour, and assuming to himself the power of making arbitrary alterations in his performance of the public worship." Finally the charge fell through, on technical grounds, in 1777, but Mr. N. Havard, town clerk of Tewkesbury, published a narrative of the case. After a life of controversy Evanson died on September 25, 1805.

We can trace out bequests both for and against this troubler of the peace. Penelope Taylor, of Worcester, a widow with views beyond the circle of her home, gave by a codicil dated July 5, 1776, to Mr. Havard ?200 to testify her approbation of his conduct "in the prosecution against Mr. Evanson, Vicar of Tewkesbury, and toward the expense of that laudable suit in the defence of Christianity."

Last of all died Evanson. His will is disappointing. It opens thus: "I Edward Evanson think it my duty under present circumstances to dispose of that portion of worldly property with which it hath pleased the divine providence of God to bless me." Otherwise there is no reference to religion, none to his stormy life, save this incidental remark: "Conscientious objections to the Liturgy of the Established Church having prevented my standing godfather for my brother-in-law Mr. William Alchorne's son, which I should otherwise have done, in lieu of the customary baptismal gifts I now give and bequeath to Mr. Wm. Alchorne aforesaid the sum of ?50 in trust and for the sole use of his son Evanson Alchorne." His wife Dorothy was residuary legatee, and the will, witnessed by three servants, was dated April 8, 1805, and proved on October 16th. He was a fighter; but not one of those who make militant wills, proclaiming, as it were with the last breath, their prepossessions and beliefs.

"When London's plague, that day by day enrolled His thousands dead, nor deigned his rage to abate Till grass was green in silent Bishopsgate, Had come and passed like thunder--still, 'tis told, The monster, driven to earth, in hovels old And haunts obscure, though dormant, lingered late, Till the dread Fire, one roaring wave of fate, Rose, and swept clean his last retreat and hold." WILLIAM WATSON.

It was to be expected that the plagues would leave their mark on these records, and very tragic such traces are. Many were driven to make their wills while still in health, but others delayed till the sickness had seized them. Of the latter more will be quoted hereafter; a few of the former may here illustrate the plague of 1665. It is strange that Defoe did not embellish his narrative with documents so vivid.

Death came swiftly, nor was it possible always to set the will down in writing. "Memorandum that on or about the nineteenth day of July in the year of our Lord God 1665 Edward Thompson, late of the parish of St. Paul's in Covent Garden in the County of Middlesex, shoemaker, being then of good health of body and of good or perfect memory, but his house being then shut up and visited with the plague, and one of his children shortly before dying in the house of the same disease, he declared his last will and testament nuncupative, or by word of mouth, in these or the like words following, that is to say: It is my last will and desire that, if it please God to take me out of this world by this present visitation, that then my loving friend and cousin, Mr. Andrew Caldwall, shall take care of my son Alexander Thompson, and shall bring him up and put him forth an apprentice, and when my said son shall come to full age to give him a just account of my estate and pay unto him what shall be then remaining thereof in his hands. But if it shall please God that my said son Alexander shall die also, then after the death of my said son I give to my two brothers in Scotland and to their children 1/- apiece. And all the rest of my goods, chattels and estate whatsoever I give and bequeath unto the said Andrew Caldwall, in regard I have been more beholding unto him than to my brothers or to any friend in the world." Evidently he was struck down swiftly, for on the 5th of August following this will was proved.

We see the fear of death hanging over the town, and how hastily wills were prepared. "My mother desired me on her death bed to be a brother to my sister Mary Grover, and if she lived to give her in money ten pounds, a gold ring which was my mother's.... If it should please God to take me away, and my sister alive, I desire she should have all that is her's.... John Hunt will be one to see that it be not baffled away but carefully looked to for the good of my poor sister.... And my desire is that she be defrauded of none, but that care be taken for the child's bringing up. As for my burial accordingly to the discretion of my overseers: if healthy times decently, if other times according to their appointment. This I writ myself for fear I should be deprived by sudden death.... The trunk at Mr. Hall's and chest and box are top full of the best of linen and other things, and my trunk is top full at the Tavern.... If I die I pray let this be engrossed and put for my will in court. Written 1st September, 1665."

Henry Dickens, of St. Martin's-in-the-Fields, cordwainer, makes his will "being at this present sick and weak in body, but of sound and perfect mind and memory, for which I give all possible praise and thanks to Almighty God, and not knowing what may befall me in these sad times of God's heavy visitation with the plague, ;" Ralph Tymberlake, tallow chandler, "calling to mind the great uncertainty of this life, especially at this time when the arrows of God's wrath are amongst us," ; and John Garland thus: "The Lord's hand being evidently gone out against this city, and not knowing how soon the stroke of death may be my portion, in order thereunto I make this my last will and testament. And in the first place I commit my soul into the arms of my Saviour the Lord Jesus in hope of His appearing at the resurrection of the dead, that when He appears I also may appear with Him in glory; and my body to be buried in a decent place and without funeral pomp, and so deep in the earth as not unnaturally to take up other men's bones or too easily to scratch up my own by others." What bitter irony that at such a time he wishes to be buried "without funeral pomp"!

But peculiarly pathetic is the will of Henry Mabank. It is a letter to his mother, in the country, perhaps, and dreading every hour to hear that her son was stricken. It was proved on May 4, 1666. "Dear Mother, my duty to you remembered, and my love to my brothers and sisters and to Mr. Rudd and Mistress Rudd and Billy and to Henry Chandler, hoping you are all in good health as I am at this present writing, thanks be to God. Dear Mother, my desire and will is, that if you never see me more that my brother George and sister Betty and sister Ann shall have ?100 which is upon bond equally divided between them.... Dear Mother, if it please God that I live till the 7th of August there will be ?10 due to me from my master and ?3 due the 20th of August upon bond. This ?13 I will leave to your disposing. I am not afraid of the sickness, yet it is very near our house. I pray excuse me from writing every week; you shall hear of my welfare in Mrs. Rudd's letters. So in haste I rest, Your dutiful son till death, Henry Mabank. July the 20th, 1665."

Finally, the horrors of the plague and its attendant heroisms are recalled by the will of Sir Edmund Bury Godfrey, proved April 14, 1679. His will is otherwise remarkable, consistent with his fine independent character, and this opportunity may be taken for quoting it in part. How little his wishes were observed students of his life will know, and they will know also how peculiar were the circumstances of his death, which are briefly related at the close of the following essay. "I desire my executors ... to cause my body to be privately buried in the meanest place of burial belonging to that parish or place wherein I shall die but not in the Church, this to be performed without pomp or pageantry, not to be accompanied with numerous attendants either of friends or relations the which as I affected not in my lifetime I would not have imposed on me being dead: to that end, and to avoid being troublesome to the world and especially to the streets when dead, I desire to be buried very early in the morning or very late at night with as much privateness as may be, without any solemn invitation of my acquaintances or kindred as also without any funeral sermon or other harangue, which I do hereby forbid, any monument or other memorial of stone or brass to be made for me, hoping that my failings will be buried with me in the grave without any partial remembrance of evil or good actions, if any such have been, which are so called at the relator's pleasure. As for the Charity which I have for some years bestowed on the poor of the parish of St. Martin's in the Fields aforesaid, viz. 10/-in bread on every Lord's Day or on some day at the beginning of each week, my will is that my executors ... do jointly and severally take care and continue to do the same by themselves for the space of ten years from and after the time of my decease.... And I do further will that the Charity by me given of 2/-per week in bread to the poor of the parish of Selling being the place of my birth ... be weekly continued to be given ... in the same manner during the same time and on the like terms as are already mentioned in the behalf of the poor of the parish of St. Martin's in the Fields aforesaid, and be continued after the determination of twenty-one years on the same terms therein expressed at the discretion of my executors their heirs or executors and no otherwise. Item: I give unto my brother Mr. Peter Godfrey, if he shall be living at the time of my death and not else, one hundred pounds instead of my great silver flagon once intended him whereon are engraven His Majesty's Royal Arms with my own adjoined, and was so given unto me by order of the King and Council in memory of the service which God enabled me to perform towards the visited poor in that dreadful year of plague 1665, the which I am always to remember with humility and true thankfulness.... And I do particularly give unto my brother Mr. Michael Godfrey my great flagon aforementioned of the King's gift."

After the plague, the fire. That naturally does not loom large in wills, but references may be found. Thus Edmund Calamy, "minister of the gospel," whose will was dated October 4, 1666, and proved November 14th, gave to his "dear and loving wife," Anne Calamy, "all the ground whereon my house stood which was lately burned down, called or known by the name and sign of the Rose, and was situate and being in St. Nicholas Lane, London, and all the timber and all the materials which did belong to the same that yet remain unburned, ." "And as for the manner of my burial, my desire is to be buried in the ruins of Aldermanbury Church; and in regard of my many children my will is that, besides mourning unto my relations, nothing be given at my funeral, not doubting that my friends and acquaintances, who shall come to perform their last office of love to me, will not come out of expectation of anything, but out of pure love and respect to the memory of their deceased friend." This Edmund Calamy was committed to Newgate on January 6, 1663, the first Nonconformist who suffered for disobedience to the Act of Uniformity. Set free by order of the King, he was driven through the ruins of London, and the sight, it is said, broke his heart. He died on October 29, 1666, and was buried in the ruins of his church, "as near to the place where his pulpit had stood as they could guess."

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