The Romance of Wills and Testaments

by Edgar Vine Hall

The meanings of these desires are not seldom hid, and each may conjecture for himself the motive of the deceased. Thus Thomas Fuller says of Catharine of Aragon: “She was buried in the abbey-church of Peterborough, under a hearse of black say; probably by her own appointment, that she might be plain when dead, who neglected bravery of clothes when living.” A vain woman, on the other hand, desired according to an old Welsh tale to be buried in her ball-dress, and her request was not denied; but her soul was hunted by the spirit-hounds, who pursue the objects of their malice. It is difficult to believe that anything but eccentricity lay behind the wishes of one who was recently buried at Barton-on-Humber, “in his best suit of clothes and brown boots, cane in hand and cap on head, watch in fob with chain attached, and with a few coins in his pockets.”

Again, a woman wishes to be buried in the clothes she shall be wearing at the time of her death, and what might lie behind this desire is suggested by the romance of Mrs. Fitzherbert and George IV. It was in a will that he acknowledged her as his true wife, and the romance was recalled when he commanded the Duke of Wellington to see that he was buried in the clothes which he wore at death, and that nothing should be taken from him. The King, it was discovered, had piously worn a miniature of the woman he had loved, and by his command he secured that the portrait should be buried with him.

John Hyacinth de Magelhaens, buried February 13, 1790, desired that “where the tree fell it might lie.” No doubt some sentiment or tradition would explain many quaint requests. A recent writer spins a little tale to explain a certain sentimental dying injunction “that there should be placed in his hands and buried with him a rosebud which will be found with him whenever or wherever he dies.” The reader of Jules Sandeau’s tale “Un Héritage,” soon discovers the reason for the last injunction in the will of Count Sigismond St. Hildesheim. “Je joins au présent testament un air tyrolien; je désire que cet air soit gravé sur ma tombe et me serve d’épitaphe.” On many such desires, however, it is curious to speculate.

Alice Suckling in 1632 bequeathed her body to the earth, dust to dust, therein to be buried in the night. Susan Hornesby, of Horton, in Kent, desired “to be buried in linen, in one of them sheets that was my mother’s ... and my three maiden sisters to bury me, and I desire a small funeral.” (Proved January 16, 1694.) Mary Jacob, spinster, in 1783 desired “a black coffin with white nails and white plate, my body to be wrapped in a piece of flannel, and a crape cap, and what hat bands and gloves be given I desire it should be black.” Sarah Jennings, widow, in the same year makes more elaborate arrangements. “My body I recommend to the earth to be buried in decent Christian burial in manner and form following by my executor, nothing doubting but at the general resurrection I shall receive the same again by the mighty power of God. First I order my coffin to be lined with the lining of my silk petticoat, the coffin to be covered with black cloth with three rows of nails. When the bell tolls the second time two porters to be set at the door with hat bands and gloves, and I further order to be laid by my brother Richard Sutton with a grave stone to cover us both. The under-bearers and pall-bearers to have hat bands and gloves, twenty widows to have one shilling apiece to be paid the day after the burial, and half a guinea for ringing a mourning peal. No bread nor biscuits to be given, but only wine.... And I do further order that I be took down to William Pywell’s house as soon as put in my coffin, from thence to proceed to Church, and I do further order that neither Benjamin Sutton nor William Oldershaw and his wife shall attend my funeral.”

It is strange how minutely these women contemplate their dissolution. Jane Carpenter, spinster, by her will dated April 17, 1789, gave the following directions. “First, I will to be kept a week after my decease before my burial, which I will to be at Oxford in the churchyard next to All Souls College in the parish of St. Mary’s, as near as may be to the chancel window; also I desire that my funeral be in the manner following: a strong coffin covered with black and everything good that is wanting or necessary, a hearse and four horses and a coach and four horses; the minister of the parish and the clerk I give a black silk hatband and gloves each; it is my desire to have nothing white, but everything black.... I will and bequeath to Mr. Richard Brook of Tidington ... smith and farmer £15 15s., and it is my desire that he shall attend my funeral; a letter directed to him at the sign of the Three Pigeons near Thame ... will come safe to hand.”

In the obituary of the Gentleman’s Magazine for 1788 is this notice: “At his apartments at Chelsea College, in his 95th year, Messenger Mounsey, M.D. For a considerable time he was family physician to the late Earl of Godolphin, and physician to Chelsea College. His character and humour bore a striking resemblance to that of the celebrated Dean Swift. By his will he has directed that his body shall not suffer any funeral ceremony, but undergo dissection; after which the ‘remainder of his carcase’ (to use his own expression) ‘may be put into a hole, or crammed into a box with holes, and thrown into the Thames,’ at the pleasure of the surgeon. The surgeon to whom he has assigned this charge is Mr. Forster, of Union-Court, Broad Street. In pursuance of the Doctor’s singular will, Mr. Forster has since given a discourse in the theatre of Guy’s Hospital to the medical students and a considerable number of intelligent visitors, on the dissection of the body.... Mr. Forster ... vindicated the Doctor from all affectation, vanity, or whim, in having ordered his body for dissection and prohibited all funeral ceremony, stating that whatever of singularity might appear in his will was resolvable merely into a zeal for knowledge, and a desire of benefiting mankind, as he conceived that a dissection of his body would lead to the illustration of much useful truth. He mentioned also the philosophic contempt in which the Doctor held all funeral pomp, and every species of unnecessary form.”

Messenger Monsey’s will has been quoted in these pages more than once, and is of interest in many ways; but, as proved, it does not contain this strange provision for the disposal of his body after dissection. As to post-mortem examination, Monsey is not unique. Jean de Labadie, that strange and spiritual figure, stated in his last testament that if such an examination of his body should be thought useful to others he willingly allowed it (1674). “Lastly, I testify that I, as I belong to God and owe myself entirely to Him, give myself without reserve into His keeping, and to my brethren and sisters who are together with me members of this Community I give my body, that they may do with it as they think fit, even if they but attend to its simple burial according to our custom. It may be that my body, in which I have suffered great physical pain (which is not uncommon in those who have devoted themselves to the work of the soul and spirit), may be usefully opened and examined, and that some lessons may be drawn from it advantageous to the prolongation of other lives. But as it signifies very little about the body, which returns to dust when the spirit returns to God, I surrender my soul heartily to my God, giving it back like a drop of water to its source, and rest confident in Him, praying God my origin and ocean, that He will take me into Himself and engulf me eternally in the divine abyss of His Being. I would say more of this if I had strength to go on writing, but this word will suffice. I am united to God and one with the Saints in God; this unison is all, and it is all to me.” And the same Bishop of Winchester who is quoted above said in a codicil: “It is my express desire that my body may be opened so far as to see whether any appearance in it may be of use to my fellow creatures: which I hope Mr. Hawkins will perform and judge of. December 1st, 1759.”

In the will of Florence Nightingale is a clause peculiarly apt for this chapter. “I give my body for dissection or post-mortem examination for the purposes of medical science, and I request that the directions about my funeral given by me to my uncle, the late Samuel Smith, be observed. My original request was that no memorial whatever should mark the place where lies my ‘mortal coil.’ I much desire this, but, should the expression of such wish render invalid my other wishes, I limit myself to the above mentioned directions, praying that my body may be carried to the nearest convenient burial ground, accompanied by not more than two persons, without trappings, and that a simple cross with only my initials, date of birth and of death, mark the spot.”

It is said that in early life Jeremy Bentham determined to leave his body for dissection, and in 1769, at the age of twenty-two, bequeathed it for that purpose: “This my will and general request I make, not out of affectation of singularity, but to the intent and with the desire that mankind may reap some small benefit in and by my decease, having hitherto had small opportunities to contribute thereto while living.” As a matter of fact, directions given by will as to the disposition of the body are invalid, but by the Anatomy Act, 1832, certain interesting provisions are laid down. The executor may permit the body of the deceased to undergo anatomical examination, unless he has expressed his desire in writing, or verbally in the presence of two or more witnesses during the illness whereof he died, that such examination might not be held, or unless the surviving spouse or any relative shall require the body to be interred without examination.

On the other hand, if any person has directed in writing, or verbally as above, that an anatomical examination shall be held, his direction is to be carried out, unless the surviving spouse or a relative require the body to be interred without such examination.