Mr. Dryden died the first of May 1701, and was interred in Westminster Abby. On the 19th of April he had been very bad with the gout, and erisipelas in one leg; but he was then somewhat recovered, and designed to go abroad; on the Friday following he eat a partridge for his supper, and going to take a turn in the little garden behind his house in Gerard-street, he was seized with a violent pain under the ball of the great toe of his right foot; that, unable to stand, he cried out for help, and was carried in by his servants, when upon sending for surgeons, they found a small black spot in the place affected; he submitted to their present applications, and when gone called his son Charles to him, using these words. 'I know this black spot is a mortification: I know also, that it will seize my head, and that they will attempt to cut off my leg; but I command you my son, by your filial duty, that you do not suffer me to be dismembered:' As he foretold, the event proved, and his son was too dutiful to disobey his father's commands.
On the Wednesday morning following, he breathed his last, under the most excruciating pains, in the 69th year of his age; and left behind him the lady Elizabeth, his wife, and three sons. Lady Elizabeth survived him eight years, four of which she was a lunatic; being deprived of her senses by a nervous fever in 1704.
John, another of his sons, died of a fever at Rome; and Charles as has been observed, was drowned in the Thames; there is no account when, or at what place Harry his third son died.
Charles Dryden, who was some time usher to pope Clement II. was a young gentleman of a very promising genius; and in the affair of his father's funeral, which I am about to relate, shewed himself a man of spirit and resolution.[7]
The day after Mr. Dryden's death, the dean of Westminster sent word to Mr. Dryden's widow, that he would make a present of the ground, and all other Abbey-fees for the funeral: The lord Halifax likewise sent to the lady Elizabeth, and to Mr. Charles Dryden, offering to defray the expences of our poet's funeral, and afterwards to bestow 500 l. on a monument in the Abbey: which generous offer was accepted. Accordingly, on Sunday following, the company being assembled, the corpse was put into a velvet hearse, attended by eighteen mourning coaches. When they were just ready to move, lord Jefferys, son of lord chancellor Jeffreys, a name dedicated to infamy, with some of his rakish companions riding by, asked whose funeral it was; and being told it was Mr. Dryden's, he protested he should not be buried in that private manner, that he would himself, with the lady Elizabeth's leave, have the honour of the interment, and would bestow a thousand pounds on a monument in the Abbey for him. This put a stop to their procession; and the lord Jefferys, with several of the gentlemen, who had alighted from their coaches, went up stairs to the lady, who was sick in bed. His lordship repeated the purport of what he had said below; but the lady Elizabeth refusing her consent, he fell on his knees, vowing never to rise till his request was granted. The lady under a sudden surprise fainted away, and lord Jeffery's pretending to have obtained her consent, ordered the body to be carried to Mr. Russel's an undertaker in Cheapside, and to be left there till further orders. In the mean time the Abbey was lighted up, the ground opened, the choir attending, and the bishop waiting some hours to no purpose for the corpse. The next day Mr. Charles Dryden waited on my lord Halifax, and the bishop; and endeavoured to excuse his mother, by relating the truth. Three days after the undertaker having received no orders, waited on the lord Jefferys; who pretended it was a drunken frolic, that he remembered nothing of the matter, and he might do what he pleased with the body. Upon this, the undertaker waited on the lady Elizabeth, who desired a day's respite, which was granted. Mr. Charles Dryden immediately wrote to the lord Jefferys, who returned for answer, that he knew nothing of the matter, and would be troubled no more about it. Mr. Dryden hereupon applied again to the lord Halifax, and the bishop of Rochester, who absolutely refused to do any thing in the affair.
In this distress, Dr. Garth, who had been Mr. Dryden's intimate friend, sent for the corpse to the college of physicians, and proposed a subscription; which succeeding, about three weeks after Mr. Dryden's decease, Dr. Garth pronounced a fine latin oration over the body, which was conveyed from the college, attended by a numerous train of coaches to Westminster-Abbey, but in very great disorder. At last the corpse arrived at the Abbey, which was all unlighted. No organ played, no anthem sung; only two of the singing boys preceded the corpse, who sung an ode of Horace, with each a small candle in their hand. When the funeral was over, Mr. Charles Dryden sent a challenge to lord Jefferys, who refusing to answer it, he sent several others, and went often himself; but could neither get a letter delivered, nor admittance to speak to him; which so incensed him, that finding his lordship refused to answer him like a gentleman, he resolved to watch an opportunity, and brave him to fight, though with all the rules of honour; which his lordship hearing, quitted the town, and Mr. Charles never had an opportunity to meet him, though he sought it to his death, with the utmost application.
Mr. Dryden had no monument erected to him for several years; to which
Mr. Pope alludes in his epitaph intended for Mr. Rowe, in this line.
Beneath a rude and nameless stone he lies.
In a note upon which we are informed, that the tomb of Mr. Dryden was erected upon this hint, by Sheffield duke of Buckingham, to which was originally intended this epitaph.
This Sheffield raised.—The sacred dust below,
Was Dryden once; the rest who does not know.