“It is a common use to entertain The knowledge of a great man by his train: How great’s the dead man then? There’s none that be So backed with troops of followers as he.” Quarles.
There is a tale told in Wales of a certain Sion Kent, who agreed with the Devil to surrender to him body and soul whether he were buried in or out of the Church. But, directing that his body should be laid beneath the church wall, he evaded the compact. It is not often that funeral directions have such eternal issues hanging upon them, but frequently in wills they are given due or elaborate consideration. “True it is,” says Fuller, “bodies flung in a bog will not stick there at the day of judgment; cast into a wood, will find out the way; thrown into a dungeon, will have free egress; left on the highway, are still in the ready road to the resurrection. Yet seeing they are the tabernacles of the soul, yea, the temples of the Holy Ghost, the Jews justly began, the Christians commendably continue, the custom of their solemn interment.” [Pg 198]
Directions for the disposal of the body, and for the ceremony that shall attend it, are of outstanding interest both for historical and psychological reasons. As one peruses them there rise in the mind innumerable thoughts and fancies of sad or humorous import. Every phase of human nature is illustrated from pompous pride to lowliest humility, from pious reverence to vulgar unconventionality, from love of lamentation and display to hatred of mourning and show. Between the hours of death and of burial seem to cluster many of man’s most quaint ideas; here lies a harvest-ground for the student, and in the records of wills rich treasures may be discovered.
Perhaps few scenes of pageantry will live in the memory more than the funeral procession of Henry V., at Fulham, with its multitudes of lights and figures solemnly moving through the dusk. Such a reconstruction of the past, with its Catholic rites and ritual, its appeal to religious emotion, illustrates the picturesque scenes and ceremonies that lie behind the words of a will. Sometimes these directions are given at great length and with lavish elaboration. But not all can command magnificence in death, and the will of Henry VII.’s tailor may be quoted as typical of the common sort.
“In the name of God, Amen. The IIIIth day of the month of March, the year of our Lord God 1503, and the XIXth year of the reign of King Henry VIIth, I George Lovekyn, citizen of London, and tailor to our [Pg 199] said sovereign lord the King, being whole of mind and in good memory, thanked be Almighty Jesu, make ordain and dispose this my present testament and last will in manner and form ensuing, that is to wit: First I bequeath and commend my soul to Almighty God my Maker and Saviour and to His blessed Mother, our Lady Saint Mary the Virgin, and to Saint George the holy martyr, and to all the holy company of heaven, and my body to be buried in the parish Church of St. Mary Wolnoth in Lombard Street of London afore the font there under the chapel of St. George by me there late made, that is to say in or by the burying place of Jane my first wife which lieth there buried, on whom Jesu have mercy. And I will that I have at my funeral XVI torches burning to be borne and holden by poor men to bring me to my burying place. And I will and desire if it conveniently may be that the four orders of friars mendicant of London shall accompany my body to the said burying place....”
It is said that St. Swithun, when he died in 862, on his death-bed ordered his monks to inter him not in a stately shrine, but in a “mean place outside the door, where the foot of the passer-by might tread, and the rain water his grave.” To be beneath the feet of priest or worshipper was not an uncommon wish, and probably, in many cases at least, was a desire for remembrance as much as, or more than, a symbol of humility. Thus Gilbert Carleton, Vicar of Farningham in 1503, wishes [Pg 200] “to be buried in the Parish Church of Farningham in one of two places as can be thought most convenient by my friends, either before the high altar in the chancel there, so that my feet may be under the priest’s feet standing at mass, or else under the step coming in at the Church door, so that every creature coming in at the same door may tread upon my burial.” Similarly Richard-sans-Peur, Duke of Normandy: “Je veulx estre enseveli devant l’huys de l’église, afin d’estre conculqué de tous les entrans dans l’église.” Another favourite place is that chosen by Agnes Spicer (1410): “My body to be buried in the Church of St. Austin’s under the bell ropes.” So Ludovic Stuart, Lord of Aubigny (1665), desired his “corpse to be buried and interred without opening it in the Church of the Reverend Fathers the Carthusians in this City of Paris just under the cord wherewith they ring the bell for the divine service, without any pomp, ceremonies, and hanging up of mourning tapestries in the Church; and that upon his grave there be laid a stone of just proportion, whereon they will write his name and quality of Great Almoner without adding anything else.”
Opinion hostile to elaborate funerals or tombs is frequently found, in Catholic as well as in Protestant wills. John Coraunt, in 1403, makes provision for his burial thus: “In the Name of God, Amen. In the XIXth day in the month of April in the year of our Lord 1403, I John Coraunt, [Pg 201] in my good mind and whole, make my testament in this manner. First I bequeath my soul to Almighty God, and my body to the earth to be buried where the will is of my two sons William and John. Also my will is to have about me at my burying no more wax than one taper at the head and another at the feet, at the ordinance of my aforesaid sons. Also I bequeath VI yards of black russet cloth lying on me my burying time to be given to poor needy folk, and all other doings about my interment and mind I will it be done at once simply and without pride, within two days after my dying by the ordinance of my sons.” Richard Broke, of Greenwich (1522), desired “no pomp of torches nor great ringing of bells, but that there be bread and ale at the dirige, to make the neighbours and poor people for to drink.”
Bartholomew Reed, Knight, alderman, citizen, and goldsmith of the City of London, in the twenty-first year of King Henry VII., gives directions that seem elaborate, but specially forbids excessive commemoration of his death. He gives his body “to be buried within the cloister of the Charterhouse of London, i.e. in the side of the cloister there between two arches or moynells of stone directly against the door leading or opening out of the choir there into the said cloister, so as I may be the better in remembrance of the holy brethren of the place there in their prayers.... And I will that mine executors do make a tomb of stone of the value and cost of XX l, with the image [Pg 202] of the Trinity and of a dead corpse kneeling thereunto.... I will that mine executors do ordain XX comely torches of wax to burn at the time of mine exequies, and to be holden about my corpse by poor men. And on that four comely tapers of wax to be holden by four poor men in likewise ... I will that in nowise mine executors keep any solemn month’s mind in such manner as oftentimes it is used, but that which shall be done for me, I will it be done at my burying, and that without any hault or sumptuous manner of charge to be done.”
Sir John Monson, Knight of the Bath and Baronet (proved January 19, 1683, S.A.), desired a “burial only not a funeral,” a desire elsewhere echoed with much variety of phrase and vigour. He himself, in the same spirit, gives these explicit directions: “If I shall die here at Broxborne before I go to Burton, (which I have reason to expect, my age and infirmities are so great,) my will is that my body be directly carried to South Carlton there to be buried according to the established form of our Church, with a sermon for the benefit of the living, (if it be thought fit), and that I may avoid all ostentation and respect decency only. My further desire is that my corpse may be carried away from my house at Broxborne where I now am about daylight in some morning, without troubling any friends to accompany my hearse, and that there may be only my own coach and one more to go with it from hence to Carlton, where I desire to be laid in peace with many of my relations.” [Pg 203]
Thomas Hobbes, of Gray’s Inn (dated 1631), wished “to be interred in the parish Church of Streatham ... utterly forbidding at my funeral any solemnities of heraldry, any feasting or banqueting, any multitude of formal mourning, only willing donment black for my child and family, my nephews and niece Laurence and my executors, and a servant for each of them, and one to my cousin Thomas Brooke. And that the company present at my funeral shall have only bread and wine for their refreshment.”
Bread and wine, or some equivalent, are commonly provided for friends or for the poor. Thomas Lightfoot (1559) ordered every person at the day of his burial to have one farthing loaf; John Sporett (1559), that his neighbours should have bread and ale; John Thorpe (1571), that “all honest folks that goes to the church with me have their dinners.” Richard Plumpton, of York (1544), went further, giving to William Plumpton and his children two hogs-heads of wine “to make merry withal.” Elizabeth Stow (1568), whose last unhappy hours have been narrated, bequeathed ten shillings “for my children and friends to drink withal after my burial.” And a recent Vicar of St. Mary, Ilford, directed that his executors and other mourners were to be entertained, “complete and thorough hospitality” extended to them, and their travelling expenses paid. [Pg 204]
Bishop Sanderson has been quoted for a loving tribute to his wife; his will gives as good an instance of the shrinking from pompous funerals as could be found in the seventeenth century. “As for my corruptible body, I bequeath it to the earth whence it was taken, to be decently buried in the Parish Church of Buckden, towards the upper end of the Chancel, upon the second, or at the furthest the third day after my decease; and that with as little noise, pomp and charge as may be, without the invitation of any person how near soever related unto me, other than the inhabitants of Buckden; without the unnecessary expense of escutcheon, gloves, ribbon, etc., and without any blacks to be hung anywhere in or about the house or Church, other than a pulpit cloth, a hearse-cloth, and a mourning gown for the preacher; whereof the former, after my body shall be interred, to be given to the preacher of the funeral sermon, and the latter to the Curate of the Parish for the time being. And my will further is that the funeral sermon be preached by my own household Chaplain, containing some wholesome discourse concerning mortality, the resurrection of the dead, and the last judgment; and that he shall have for his pains ￡5, upon condition that he speak nothing at all concerning my person, either good or ill, other than I myself shall direct; only signifying to the auditory that it was my express will to have it so. And it is my will that no costly monument be erected for my memory, but only a fair flat marble stone to be laid [Pg 205] over me.... This manner of burial, although I cannot but foresee it will prove unsatisfactory to sundry my nearest friends and relations, and be apt to be censured by others, as an evidence of my too much parsimony and narrowness of mind, as being altogether unusual, and not according to the mode of these times: yet it is agreeable to the sense of my heart, and I do very much desire my Will may be carefully observed herein, hoping it may become exemplary to some or other: at least, however, testifying at my death—what I have so often and earnestly professed in my lifetime—my utter dislike of the flatteries commonly used in funeral sermons, and of the vast expenses otherwise laid out in funeral solemnities and entertainments, with very little benefit to any; which if bestowed in pious and charitable works, might redound to the public or private benefit of many persons.”
Close upon a hundred years later (August 18, 1760), another Bishop, the Right Rev. Benjamin Lord Bishop of Winchester, in English less chaste but with remarkable similarity of thought, wrote out his desires for his interment. “There is hardly anything more unworthy of a man, or a Christian, than to have a great concern or deliberation about the place and manner of his funeral. I know of but one reason that can justify it, and that is because it may take off all dispute and difference which may arise, and determine it so as that the executors can have no trouble or blame. I once had a fixed design to order my burial at Streatham Church in Surrey, where I passed many agreeable years [Pg 206] of my life, in a vault to be built by me which might hold all my nearest and dearest relations. But when I had thus fully resolved, and was going to begin the work in the plainest manner, I found myself totally disappointed; for when I came to enquire of the proper officers of the parish where I had lived long and where I had buried my first wife, I found something true which I did not before think to be so; and that in short it was in vain to enquire about any particular coffin after such a certain number of years have passed from the time of the funeral. I therefore now, without any further thought about what is of so little consequence, order and appoint, solely to take off all uneasiness from my executor, that my burial shall be in the Cathedral Church of Winchester, in as private a manner as decency will permit, in such part or place as the Rev. the Dean and the majority of the Chapter shall allow of, and judge proper, for the making one grave for this purpose only. I desire that no unnecessary trouble may be given to any persons towards their attendance, but that only what has been usual on such occasions may be paid. I desire and hope that neither my executor nor any near relation will attend: nor indeed any person but the Dean and Prebendaries if he or any of that body happen on any other account to be at Winchester at that time, and not otherwise. These may be followed at the funeral by those servants of mine who may attend the [Pg 207] corpse from Chelsea.... My will also is, that the inscription I have left, containing only facts relating to myself, may be engraved on a piece of marble, with very little ornament about it, and be fixed to a pillar, the nearest to the grave, without any addition of any character or any word or figure but to fill up the vacancies left.”
In a century of melancholy monuments, the century of “The Grave” and “Night Thoughts,” the desire for simplicity is frequently expressed: there seems to be a common reaction against pomposity and show. “I desire to be decently and privately buried in the Churchyard of the parish of Wargrave without any funeral pomp or vain idle expense,” says Simeon Rockall (1789), and Pierce Galliard, of Edmonton and Southampton, “I will and desire that my body may be buried decently and privately without pomp or show and with as little expense as possible, either in the parish Church where I shall die or at Edmonton with my ancestors and family as shall be agreeable to my beloved wife and executrix.” These are but random instances.
But sometimes the tones are raised by appeal to reason or to ridicule. Thus Rev. Obadiah Hughes (1751) says: “I order that my body be conveyed in a decent but not pompous manner, (for pomp and show abate the solemnity of death, and often prevent those serious impressions which a funeral might make upon the minds of attendants and spectators,) to the [Pg 208] parish Church of St. Martin Outwich in the City of London, and be there deposited as near as may be to the precious remains of my late dear wife, there to rest and sleep together until the great resurrection day.” And Samuel Gillam, whose will was proved on August 13, 1793, thus breaks out: “Whereas I think it a very great absurdity and the most egregious folly to make the deaths and burials of persons to be an occasion of pomp and show, I do hereby order and desire my funeral may be performed in such manner as may be barely decent, but no more, and that the expense thereof do not exceed including the parochial fees ￡20, and that William Brent do undertake the same. I give unto the said William Brent as a legacy ￡10. I verily believe he is an honest man.”
James Clegg (dated April 13, 1781), after giving a sum to Mrs. Tommasa Jackson to employ it in giving a dinner to herself and his most intimate friends, within a month of his death, “sooner or later according as her tears may have subsided,” proceeds: “With regard to my burial my executors shall do as they please: all I recommend is not to be lain under ground alive, I mean that they keep me after my death for two days in some place before burial, paying those for their trouble who may have me in charge—will you do it? It being customary to honour the dead with monuments and pompous tombs, here I intend to interfere, and give orders that for me no greater expense be made than 100 dollars and for an inscription these few words: ‘Here lies James Clegg,’ which [Pg 209] to me appears sufficient: every reader may say what more he thinks fit.” But time—perhaps success—seems somewhat to have relaxed his resolution, for by a codicil dated May 4, 1784, he says: “In case of my decease there shall be called an honourable meeting at which all my countrymen and all the merchants shall be invited, and to my countrymen scarves shall be given, and that a decent tomb shall be made for me at the expense of from two to three hundred dollars, and on the same this inscription shall be written: ‘The monument of James Clegg anno ...’”
“And lastly, to close all,” wrote Gilbert White, of Selborne, “I do desire that I may be buried in the Parish Church of Selborne aforesaid in as plain and private a way as possible, without any pall bearers or parade, and that six honest day-labouring men (respect being had to such as have bred up large families) may bear me to my grave, to whom I appoint the sum of ten shillings each for their trouble.”
Coming to recent days it would be easy to illustrate the desire for simplicity in death, from highest to lowest, but instances may be seen in the papers from day to day. Leopold, King of the Belgians, whose will was dated November 20, 1907, said: “I wish to be buried early in the morning, without any pomp whatsoever. Apart from my nephew Albert and my household, I forbid anyone to follow my remains.” The late Earl of Leicester, when he died the “Father” of the House of Lords, desired [Pg 210] that his body “be buried in the churchyard at Holkham, enclosed in a single plain deal coffin only, without any brasses or ornament whatever; and I request my executors not to provide any gloves or hatbands, or to allow any other foolish expenditure at my funeral.”
A late Bishop Suffragan of Shrewsbury directed that he should be buried in the simplest possible manner, in an earthen grave which was to be covered with a low plinth bearing the words, “Not worthy of the least of all the mercies which Thou hast shewed unto Thy servant,” and earnestly entreated that no attempt should be made to raise any public memorial in his honour. Father Tyrrell, in a document dated January 1, 1909, wished nothing to be written on his grave except his name and the statement that he was a Catholic priest, with the addition only of the emblem of the Chalice and the Host.
Less simple in the desire for simplicity were the instructions of a solicitor, who directed that his remains should be cremated and the ashes scattered in some plantation for restoration to the world which he had “found so delightful”; that his funeral should be conducted in the most unostentatious, private, and, indeed, secret manner, without advertisement or invitations to attend, and that no gravestone should be erected.
At the particular desire of Edward Nokes, a miser of Hornchurch, whose niggardliness was extended to his funeral arrangements, none who [Pg 211] followed him to the grave was in mourning, but each follower appeared in striking costume and the undertaker in blue coat and scarlet waistcoat. Such is the lamentable antithesis of a desire which is sometimes expressed, and with which it is easy to sympathise, that no black garments shall be worn. It is a desire which is, perhaps, increasingly common, though in the seventeenth century there are such conspicuous passages as Jeremy Taylor’s protest against undue lamentation and Bacon’s Essay “Of Death.” Sir John Monson (who is referred to on p. 202) makes it his last request that his wife and relations will not think that a loss to them which will be so great an improvement of his joy and happiness, and not make his crown their cross, but enjoy themselves and those earthly comforts God shall still bless them with in an holy submission and cheerfulness. Perhaps the ideal method in this question, difficult because of prejudice and custom, was attained by Christina Rossetti, who, at her grandmother’s death, was without black clothes, but wrote that she had nevertheless “managed to put on nothing contrary to mourning.”
Recently a testatrix desired her body to be buried in quicklime in an ordinary grave, not a walled grave or a vault, and directed especially that no mourning should be worn and that the funeral service should be as cheerful as possible: another that her children should wear as little black as possible, and not shut themselves up, but go out among friends and to places of amusement. “I am not afraid of them forgetting me, but I want them to be happy.” [Pg 212]
“Let me be placed in my coffin,” wrote an artist in Paris, “as quickly as possible after my death, and let nobody outside the household be admitted to my death chamber before I am placed in the coffin. In a word I do not wish anybody to attend through curiosity to see how I look. Let no portrait or photograph be made of my corpse, and let me be buried in the shortest time possible. And do not weep for me. I have lived a life happy enough; the aim of my life was my painting, and I gave all of which I was capable. I might have lived another twenty years, but should not have progressed any more, so what would have been the good? And how content I should be if no one wears the marks of mourning. I always had a horror of this show, so if you cannot do otherwise, then wear the least of it possible.”
Thought and care for those who are to “have the pleasure of surviving” add here and there pathetic touches. Mary Horne in 1784 wrote an informal will, of which this is the dominant note. “My dear Sister, being very desirous of giving you as little trouble at my death as possible shall make no will, being well assured you’ll strictly observe and comply with this my last request, which is that I may be decently interred according to the enclosed directions.... My desire is that I may be kept as long as possible before I am buried, and to lay as near [Pg 213] my dear father and mother in the parish church of Swindon as conveniently to be done, and if not attended with much trouble. I would have no shroud but combed wool: to be carried by six poor men of the town, and to each half a guinea given and a strong pair of gloves: the pall flung over me which belongs to the clerk, and no one invited to the funeral, but a pair of the best kid gloves sent to all in the town who I visited.... To those who have the trouble of laying me out and being in the room with me after I am dead a guinea to each and a good pair of gloves.”
As this was dated September 29, 1784, and proved on October 6th, the good lady must have written it............