As unsentimental was the mind of the New York citizen who instructed his executors to have made out of his bones circular buttons of dimensions from one half an inch to one inch in diameter, to have the skin of his body tanned and made into pouches; and to have violin strings made out of such parts as might be suitable, adding: “I hereby give unto my beloved friend James Hayes the buttons, violin-strings and tanned skin made out of my body as aforesaid, the same to be by him distributed according to his discretion to my intimate friends.” The belief, it is said, that in the human body exists useful material which should not be wasted led this testator to give such strange directions: he did not believe in ordinary unhygienic and wasteful modes of burial, and hoped that his example might be followed.
With the will of John Angell, of Stockwell, dated September 21, 1774, we may make an end. He seems to have been a man of ambitious ideas. He made provision for a “College or Society of seven decayed or unprovided for gentlemen,” and had the temerity to name as trustees the Archbishops of Canterbury and of York and the Lord Chancellor, “the great personages whom I have presumed to appoint to this trust,” as he himself says.
The same elaboration marks his funeral arrangements. “I would be interred in the manner following. I would be wrapped in a woollen sheet only. Then without a shroud be put into a leaden coffin, which shall not be soldered down but only screwed. On this coffin shall be a large plain inscription on lead expressing who I am. Then to be put into a black cloth coffin with usual ornaments. Only I would have a plate of copper or brass instead of such as is usually put. Thereon shall be well engraved the family coat of arms properly blazoned and as I now bear, with a full inscription as on the lead in Latin as thus: John the son of John and Caroline qui consortem habuit carissimam. I desire to lie open in my chamber so long as I decently may. Afterwards in about a fortnight, or rather above, would be carried to Crowhurst in a hearse with six horses dressed properly with shields and escutcheons, but no other trifling ornaments. My own coach shall follow with one footman behind it and I riding before; and besides two mourning coaches only with six horses, in one of which I would have go my executors or near friends, in the other my maid servants. I would desire the tenants and neighbours at Crowhurst and in that neighbourhood would meet me at the bottom of Riddlesdown as usual heretofore, and they are to have there gloves and hatbands. And I would desire such of my neighbours in about Stockwell as would show me that regard to ride two by two before me as far as the further end of Croydon, accordingly to have hatbands and gloves. And it is my will and desire that if the College and Chapel which I intend to erect be finished and settled, the gentlemen and the chaplain and minister and the whole choir and the servants of the College attend on foot to the top of Brixton Causeway, singing as they proceed some proper hymn or anthem as shall be appointed on the occasion.”
CHAPTER XVI
WILLS AND GHOSTS
“Things that go Bump in the night.” “Widdershins.”
It is not surprising that stories of haunting or of the supernatural should be linked with wills. The perturbation of the dying man, as he utters his last bequest or ponders upon his affairs; the failure to make his wishes known; neglect of his dispositions and desires; non-completion of the will or its loss; concealment of his treasure or hoard: here are the bases or occasions for many a tale of spirit and of ghost.
It is said that fear lest the spirit should not be at rest was the origin of the priest’s injunction to the sick to make his will, an injunction which still forms part of the “Visitation of the Sick” in the Book of Common Prayer. “And if he hath not before disposed of his goods, let him then be admonished to make his Will, and to declare his Debts, what he oweth, and what is owing unto him; for the better discharging of his conscience and the quietness of his Executors. But men should often be put in remembrance to take order for the settling of their temporal estates, whilst they are in health.” In other chapters this subject has been touched, and instances have been given of wills made in the hour of death. But when no will is made, no friend is near, can the spirit of the dying or of the dead indicate his last will? There are tales to this effect.
“During the cholera epidemic in the North of England, about 1867-8, I remember an incident which had a great effect upon my boyish mind at the time. I lived in North Shields, and was the favourite of my great-grandmother, with whom I often stayed. The old lady was rather a recluse in her habits, and occupied two upper rooms in her daughter’s house. She was known to have some paper money about her, which, however, she carefully concealed somewhere from all her relatives. At the same time, it was known she had a particular partiality for one certain cupboard which she used as a wardrobe in her bedroom.... At three o’clock one morning, while sleeping at my own home, I awoke to find the old lady standing at the foot of my bed, calling to me and beckoning to me to follow her. I sat up in bed, terrified at the sight, but, of course, manifested no desire to move. The old lady then became impatient, and saying she could not remain longer, begged of me to be sure and go to ‘the cupboard,’ this being her usual phrase when referring to the small wardrobe.... On the old lady’s departure I was so frightened that I felt I dare not stay in the room.... I awoke my mother and told her what had happened. She calmed me as much as possible and saw me off to bed again, but in the morning she was so much impressed with my story that she accompanied me on my way to school, and we called to see if anything was wrong with the old lady. Imagine our surprise on reaching the house to learn that she had been found dead in bed a short time before our visit. The body was cold, proving that she had been dead some hours, the doctor declaring she had died of cholera. The inference formed was that she must have died about the hour she visited me. Suffice it to say, an inspection of ‘the cupboard’ revealed the fact that other hands had done duty there before ours had a chance, but with what result will never be known.”
What such visions are, whether of the dying or of the dead, or otherwise, is a subject of keen controversy, but is not our business here.