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, (being then his only surviving child) 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, (and) 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.” (John Grover, proved May 13, 1666.)
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, (dated September 6, 1665, proved May 4, 1666);” 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,” (dated September 9, 1665, proved September 20th); 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.” (Dated August 15, 1665, proved January 5th following.) 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[1] ... 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, (if any be).” “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.”
Lastly, Thomes Rich (dated July 31, 1672), devised a messuage and premises in Lime Street, St. Andrew Undershaft, the rents to be distributed as to 40s. yearly to the minister of the parish to preach there two sermons, one on New Year’s Day, the other on the third Tuesday in September, in thankfulness to God for the preservation of the parish from the Fire.
VII
Appended to the will of Thomas Appletree, a lengthy document, is the following memorandum: “Be it remembered that on Saturday the one and thirtieth day of March last past before the date hereof (April 27th, 1666) Thomas Appletree, of Dadington, ... Esq., lying sick in his bed, (his brother William Appletree of Dadington aforesaid, Gentleman, being by his bedside, and Lettice Appletree daughter of the said Thomas Appletree being in the same chamber,) his said brother William Appletree said thus unto him:—Brother I know you have made your will, pray where is it? His answer was:—It is in the little trunk at my bed’s feet.”
In this case the survivors seem to have been more anxious than the dying man that the will should not be mislaid. They were not subject to the delicacy of feeling of Mr. Weller in a later age. “Samivel,” said Mr. Weller accosting his son on the morning of the funeral, “I’ve found it, Sammy. I thought it wos there.” “Thought wot wos where?” inquired Sam. “Your mother-in-law’s vill, Sammy,” replied Mr. Weller. “In wirtue o’ vich, them arrangements is to be made as I told you on last night respectin’ the funs.” “Wot, didn’t she tell you were it wos?” inquired Sam. “Not a bit on it, Sammy,” replied Mr. Weller. “We wos a adjestin’ our little differences, and I wos a cheerin’ her spirits and bearin’ her up, so that I forgot to ask anythin’ about it. I don’t know as I should ha’ done it indeed, if I had remembered it,” added Mr. Weller, “for it’s a rum sort o’ thing, Sammy, to go a hankerin’ arter anybody’s property, ven you’re assistin’ ’em in illness. It’s like helping an outside passenger up, ven he’s been pitched off a coach, and puttin’ your hand in his pocket, vile you ask vith a sigh how he finds hisself, Sammy.”