The death of Susan, the maid, is recorded, though as she died last of all we need not ascribe it to her witnessing the will. But probably such a kindly act often cost a man his life. Possibly the parson himself contracted the illness thus, or at least in visiting some afflicted parishioner. For it is noticeable that of the family he was the first to die. We can go back to July, 1515, for such an act of devotion by the parish priest, when the will of one Gefferey Salesbury, of Leicestershire, was witnessed by the priest only, “and no more for fear of the plague of pest.”

To the difficulty of obtaining witnesses was added the unwillingness of scriveners to attend. “Memorandum that upon Wednesday, the 9th day of November, 1625, Edward Blackerby, citizen and clothworker of London, and of the parish of St. Stephen in Coleman Street, in London, being sick in body and in danger of death, but of perfect mind and memory, being desirous to make his last will, sent divers times for a scrivener of his acquaintance to write the same, and in the meantime, in the presence of John Frank and William Blackerby, did very oftentimes pronounce and say that he made his wife his executrix. At the length, perceiving that the scrivener of his acquaintance which he so often sent for was fearful to come unto him in his sickness, he thereupon caused another scrivener to be sent for to write his will; but before his will could be written, his memory was so decayed and so weak that he could not finish what he intended.” Similarly Henry Ludlowe, “late of the parish of St. Martin’s in the Fields, ... goldsmith, being sensible of the hand of God upon him during the late contagion, his family being visited and himself dangerously ill of the sickness whereof he died, and having a desire to declare his will and mind, ... no scrivener being then to be had to put his will into writing, upon a Monday happening about the middle of August last past (1665) ... did cause one of his nurse keepers to call up the others into his chamber on purpose to be witnesses to what he had to say.”

With the intimate and pathetic will of Francis Mountstephen we revert to the plague of 1603. It was proved on the 29th of August that year. “I repose trust in you, brother Nicholas, concerning the executorship. Brother Nicholas, since it hath pleased God to visit me with his rod, which I pray God that rod I may take with patience, you writ unto me concerning the suit which I ever well liked; and the cause of my sending to you a Sunday morning was to that end, and to have made straight those things which you requested. For that bond of £50 you speak of I am content you should have it, upon condition that you would see the rest equally bestowed upon the rest; but, if your discretion think it good, let my two younger sisters have somewhat the greater share, for they have the most need withal. Remember my uncle Baldiom because of my promise. And so referring the rest to your discretion, I commit you to the Lord God, (I end,) whom I desire to release me of my pains which I intolerable do bear. From the pesthouse, this two and twentieth of August, 1603. Your loving brother F. M. If it please God that I do die, I owe to Edward Smith 10/-: I pray you pay it for me. F. M. I pray you take 8/-of Elizabeth Price when she cometh to town. Witnesses, Henry Chitham, keeper of the pesthouse, Rose Gibb and Robert Smith.”

CHAPTER V
WILLS BY WORD OF MOUTH

After various bequests, including the interesting one of $100 “unto the redemption of the poor English captives in Constantinople,” the will of James Peckett, merchant, made in Smyrna, May 3, 1634, breaks off suddenly, and we read: “The aforegoing is as much as was delivered by Mr. James Peckett, who afterwards falling weaker in body and his memory decaying, it was propounded unto him whom he should make choice of for to be his executors in trust, whereupon he nominated Mr. Richard Chambers of London, Merchant, and Mr. Lawrence Greene, Consul for the English nation in Smyrna, and afterwards for his overseers, not knowing who to nominate through his weakness there was propounded unto him whether he would accept of Mr. Rainsbrow and Mr. Thomas Moody of London, merchants: unto the which he answered ‘Yea.’”

This will is, therefore, a mingling of the written and unwritten testament. The nuncupative will, the will by word of mouth, was common in former times; but since the stricter methods of the Wills Act, 1837, it has been mainly in abeyance. Attempts are still made from time to time to establish the words of dying men. A recent action in the Court, to legalise some strangely made codicils, reminds us of James Peckett’s acquiescence and of older methods. “Don’t you want to leave something to me?” the testator was asked. He answered, “Yes,” the question was put, “How much?” and a codicil straightway prepared.

The prevalence of such wills, without even the necessity of a written record signed by the testator, must have led to much abuse. But not always were testators so complaisant. Roger Potter, of Mildenhill, Suffolk, a bachelor “in the time of his last sickness (viz.) upon or about the 12th day of November 1664, did make and declare his last will and testament nuncupative as followeth. He being moved to make his will, he answered ‘With all my heart.’ And then, being asked or demanded whom he would make executor, he replied ‘Executrix,’ and named Mall, meaning as was understood by those present Mary Potter, his brother’s grandchild, whom he especially regarded. And then being moved what he would give to any of his friends, he expressed an unwillingness to do any more, saying ‘Why do you urge me?’” So, too, Reginald Greene “on a Sunday, being the fifth day of July a.d. 1635, ... being then very sick but of good and perfect mind and memory, with an intent to make his last will and testament nuncupative spake these words, or the like in effect, as followeth, viz.: He gave all his goods chattels and debts unto his cousin John Greene ... and his son John Greene. Judith Springatt being present did desire that she might be remembered in his will and to have a legacy therein: he replied ‘No, no,’ and said he had been always beholding to his cousin John Greene and that he and his boy, meaning his said son John Greene, should have all that he had.”

How often a dying man may have fallen a prey to the designs of friends or foes one could not hazard a guess: it is remarkable, on the other hand, what powers of resistance a man in his last sickness may show. Two instances have just been given, but still more interesting is the final will of Henry Akerman, a victim of the plague. What perturbation of mind for a dying man to suffer! “Memorandum that at or upon the VIth day of August a.d. 1603, and between five and six of the clock in the afternoon of the same day, or thereabouts, Henry Akerman, of the parish of St. Giles Without Cripplegate, London, being weak in body and visited with the sickness, but of perfect mind and memory, did, with an intent absolutely to revoke all former wills before by him made, make and declare his last will and testament nuncupative in manner and form and by the words following, or the like in effect, viz.: ‘Whereas this day I did unadvisedly make a will in writing by the procurement of some of my friends, and named therein John Dardes and Jarvice Pitt to be my executors, I do now upon better consideration clean revoke that will, for that I distrust and find that I had done my children wrong thereby. And therefore now I make Mary my well beloved wife my executrix. And I give will and bequeath my goods and chattels, and whatsoever else hath pleased God to bless me withal, to be equally divided betwixt my said wife and my children according to the custom of the City of London’: and these or the like words in effect he spake in the hearing of divers credible witnesses.”

The temptation to postpone a will, to refuse to look death in the face, must have been great when a few dying words were valid. To some how hard is the Horatian theme: divitiis potietur heres!