One Box of Butterflies,
One Drawer of Shells,
A Female Skeleton,
A dried Cockatrice.
My Receipt for preserving dead Caterpillars,
As also my preparations of Winter May-Dew, and Embrio Pickle.
Three Crocodiles’ Eggs.
And upon the Birth of her first Child, if she marries with her
Mother’s Consent,
The Nest of a Humming-Bird.
Lands he has vested in my Son Charles, I bequeath
My last Year’s Collection of Grasshoppers.
With my large Folio of Indian Cabbage.
*******
“Having fully provided for my Nephew Isaac, by making over to him some years since
The Skin of a Rattle-Snake, and
The Mummy of an Egyptian King,
I make no further Provision for him in this my Will.
“My eldest son John having spoken disrespectfully of his little sister, whom I keep by me in Spirits of Wine, and in many other instances behaved himself undutifully towards me, I do disinherit, and wholly cut off from any Part of this my Personal Estate, by giving him a single Cockle-Shell.
“To my Second Son Charles, I give and bequeath all my Flowers, Plants, Minerals, Mosses, Shells, Pebbles, Fossils, Beetles, Butterflies, Caterpillars, Grasshoppers, and Vermin, not above specified: As also all my Monsters, both wet and dry, making the said Charles whole and sole Executor of this my Last Will and Testament, he paying or causing to be paid the aforesaid Legacies within the space of Six Months after my Decease. And I do hereby revoke all other Wills whatsoever by me formerly made.”
Eustace Budgell
Pope was an excellent satirist; he writes:
And write whate’er he please,—except my will.”
Eustace Budgell was born at St. Thomas near Exeter, England, in 1685, and died in 1737. He was an essayist and miscellaneous writer, and a friend and kinsman of Joseph Addison, who was for a time Secretary of State for Ireland: he accompanied Addison to Ireland as Clerk, and later became under Secretary of State: he was, however, forced to resign his post, and returned to England.
Budgell is said to have lost a fortune in the notorious scheme known to history as the “South Sea Bubble.” He published the Bee, a periodical which brought him into considerable notoriety. He studied law and was called to the bar, but attained little success. By the will of Dr. Matthew Tindal, who died in 1733, he was left a legacy of 2000 Guineas: it was claimed that Budgell himself inserted this legacy in the will, which was successfully disputed by the heirs to the Tindal Estate: his prospects and future being ruined, he fell into disgrace and debt, and determined upon self-destruction. Accordingly, 1737, he took a boat at Summerset Stairs, after filling his pockets with stones, and drowned himself in the Thames. On his desk was found a slip of paper on which were written these words:
“What Cato did and Addison approved cannot be wrong.”
Will of a Child
In “Little Women,” by Louisa M. Alcott, we find Amy’s will, and it is a pretty reflection of the sweet and ingenuous spirit of a child. And humanity would be the happier for it if we could take with us into maturer years, the open hand and the self-forgetfulness of childhood.
Amy decided to follow the example of her Aunt March in will-making, though it cost her many a pang to part with her little treasures. Here is the paper Laurie was asked to read:
“MY LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT
“I, Amy Curtis March, being in my sane mind, do give and bequeethe all my earthly property—viz. to wit:—namely
“To my father, my best pictures, sketches, maps, and works of art, including frames. Also my $100, to do what he likes with.
“To my mother, all my clothes, except the blue apron with pockets,—also my likeness, and my medal, with much love.
“To my dear sister Margaret, I give my turquoise ring (if I get it), also my green box with the doves on it, also my piece of real lace for her neck, and my sketch of her as a memorial of her ‘little girl.’
“To Jo I leave my breast-pin, the one mended with sealing wax, also my bronze inkstand—she lost the cover—and my most precious plaster rabbit, because I am sorry I burnt up her story.
“To Beth (if she lives after me) I give my dolls and the little bureau, my fan, my linen collars and my new slippers if she can wear them being thin when she gets well. And I herewith also leave her my regret that I ever made fun of old Joanna.
“To my friend and neighbor Theodore Laurence I bequeethe my paper marshay portfolio, my clay model of a horse though he did say it hadn’t any neck. Also in return for his great kindness in the hour of affliction any one of my artistic works he likes, Noter Dame is the best.
“To our venerable benefactor Mr. Laurence I leave my purple box with a looking glass in the cover which will be nice for his pens and remind him of the departed girl who thanks him for his favors to her family, specially Beth.
“I wish my favorite playmate Kitty Bryant to have the blue silk apron and my gold-bead ring with a kiss.
“To Hannah I give the bandbox she wanted and all the patchwork I leave hoping she ‘will remember me, when it you see.’
“And now having disposed of my most valuable property I hope all will be satisfied and not blame the dead. I forgive every one, and trust we may all meet when the trump shall sound. Amen.
“To this will and testament I set my hand and seal on this 20th day of Nov. Anni Domino 1861.
“Amy Curtis March.
| “Witnesses: | Estelle Valnor, Theodore Laurence. |
“Postscript: I wish all my curls cut off, and given round to my friends. I forgot it; but I want it done, though it will spoil my looks.”
The Will of Don Quixote
“I feel, good sirs,” said Don Quixote, “that death advances fast upon me. Let us then be serious, and bring me a confessor, and a notary to draw up my will, for a man in my state must not trifle with his soul. Let the notary be sent for, I beseech you, while my friend here, the priest, is taking my confession.”
The priest, having listened to his dying friend’s confession, came out of the room and told them that the good Alonzo Quixano was near his end, and certainly in his right senses; he therefore advised them to go in, as it was full time that his will should be made. These tidings gave a terrible stab to the overcharged hearts of the two ladies and his faithful squire, whose eyes overflowed with weeping, and whose bosoms had well-nigh burst with a thousand sighs and groans; for, indeed, it must be owned, as we have somewhere observed, that whether in the character of Alonzo Quixano the Good, or in the capacity of Don Quixote de la Mancha, the poor gentleman had always exhibited marks of a peaceable temper and agreeable demeanor, for which he was beloved, not only by his own family, but also by all those who had the pleasure of his acquaintance.
The notary entering the apartment with the rest of the company, wrote the preamble of the will, in which Don Quixote disposed of his soul in all the necessary Christian forms; then proceeding to the legacies, he said:
“Item: Whereas, Sancho Panza, whom, in my madness, I made my squire, has in his hands a certain sum of money for my use; and, as divers accounts, disbursements, and pecuniary transactions have passed between us, it is my will that he shall not be charged or brought to account for the said money; but, if there be any overplus after he has deducted the payment of what I owe him, the said overplus, which must be a mere trifle, shall be his own, and much good may it do him; and as, during my disorder, I contributed to his being made governor of an island, I would now, while I enjoy my perfect senses, confer upon him, were it in my power, a whole kingdom, which he richly deserves for the innocency of his heart and the fidelity of his service.”
Then turning to the disconsolate squire, “Forgive me, friend,” said he, “for having been the cause of thy appearing in the eye of the world a madman like myself, by drawing thee into my erroneous notions concerning the existence and adventures of knights-errant.”
“Gentlemen,” said Don Quixote, “let us proceed fair and softly. I was mad, I am now sane; I was Don Quixote de la Mancha; I am now, as formerly styled, Alonzo Quixano the Good. And may my repentance and sincerity restore me to the esteem you once had for me. Now let the notary proceed.
“Item: I bequeath to Antonia Quixano, my niece, here present, all my estate, real and personal, after the payment of all my debts and legacies; and the first to be discharged shall be the wages due to my housekeeper for the time she has been in my service, and twenty ducats besides for a suit of mourning.
“I appoint for my executors signor the priest and signor bachelor Sampson Carrasco, here present.
“Item: It is also my will that, if Antonia Quixano, my niece, should be inclined to marry, it shall be only with a man who, upon the strictest inquiry, shall be found to know nothing of books of chivalry; and, in case it appear that he is acquainted with such books, and that my niece, notwithstanding, will and doth marry him, then shall she forfeit all I have bequeathed her, which my executors may dispose of in pious uses as they think proper.
“And, finally, I beseech the said gentlemen, my executors, that if haply they should come to the knowledge of the author of a certain history dispersed abroad, entitled, ‘The Second Part of the Achievements of Don Quixote de la Mancha,’ that they will, in my name, most earnestly entreat him to forgive me for having been the innocent cause of his writing such a number of absurdities as that performance contains; for I quit this life with some scruples of conscience arising from that consideration.”
The will being thus concluded, he was seized with a fainting-fit, and stretched himself at full length in the bed, so that all the company were alarmed and ran to his assistance. During three days which he lived after the will was signed and sealed, he frequently fainted, and the whole family was in confusion. Nevertheless, the niece ate her victuals, the housekeeper drank to the repose of his soul, and even Sancho cherished his little carcass; for the prospect of succession either dispels or moderates that affliction which an heir ought to feel at the death of the testator.
At last Don Quixote expired, after having received all the sacraments, and in the strongest terms, pathetically enforced, expressed his abomination against all books of chivalry; and the notary observed, that in all the books of that kind which he had perused, he had never read of any knight-errant who died quietly in his bed as a good Christian, like Don Quixote; who, amidst the tears and lamentations of all present, gave up the ghost, or, in other words, departed this life. The curate was no sooner certified of his decease, than he desired the notary to make out a testimonial, declaring that Alonzo Quixano the Good, commonly called Don Quixote de la Mancha, had taken his departure from this life, and died of a natural death; that no other author, different from Cid Hamet Benengeli, should falsely pretend to raise him from the dead, and write endless histories of his achievements.
This was the end of that extraordinary gentleman of La Mancha, whose birthplace Cid Hamet was careful to conceal, that all the towns and villages of that province might contend for the honor of having produced him, as did the seven cities of Greece for the glory of giving birth to Homer. The lamentations of Sancho, the niece and the housekeeper, are not here given, nor the new epitaphs on the tomb of the deceased knight, except the following one, composed by Sampson Carrasco:
A stranger all his life to fear;
Nor in his death could Death prevail,
In that last hour, to make him quail.
And at his feats the world was scared;
A crazy man his life he passed,
But in his senses died at last.”
WILLS IN POETRY OR RHYME
The disposition of one’s worldly possessions by a testamentary document in poetry or rhyme, appears incongruous, yet there are numerous documents of this nature: a brief, but striking example of such, by an attorney named Smithers who resided in London, follows:
I give them to my beloved wife, and hers forevermore.
I give all freely; I no limit fix;
This is my will, and she’s executrix.”
Will of Mother Hubbard’s Dog
On Tremont Street, in the busy heart of Boston, is the beautiful little “burying ground,” called the “Granary”; Paul Revere, John Quincy Adams, John Hancock, and other distinguished citizens of New England rest here under trees which have shaded their graves for more than a century. There is also shown the visitor the grave of “Mother Goose,” the alleged author of the Mother Goose Rhymes. It may be iconoclastic to shatter a legend, but the truth is, the Mother Goose Rhymes had been jingling for a century and more before this good lady was born; it appears that in ancient times, the goose was a famous story-teller for children, and the Goose Melodies are an adaptation from the French. The monument in the “Granary” is erected to Mary Goose, wife of Isaac Goose; it would seem that her claim to fame rests entirely upon her recitation of the Hubbard Melodies to such an extent that her son-in-law, Thomas Fleet, who was a printer, issued a special edition for her.
Piers Plowman
Piers Plowman, in the fourteenth century, thus made his will:
In God’s name, amen! lo! I make it myself.
May God have my soul who hath saved and deserved it,
Let the kirk have my carrion and keep well my bones.”
Will of Paul Scarron
The will of Paul Scarron, which he chose to write in verse, is not a particularly attractive production. It consists of about two hundred lines; the following may be taken as a specimen:
As is well known, Scarron was a French author and playwright. In 1652 he married the beautiful Francine d’Aubigne, afterward Madame de Maintenon. He died on October 6, 1660.
François Villon
François Villon is an unique character in history, romance and poetry. He died about 1484. “The Poems of Master François Villon of Paris done into English Verse by John Payne,” contain his two chief compositions entitled, “The Lesser Testament,” and “The Greater Testament”: they are satires of considerable merit and length, and a verse from the first and two from the last will suffice to show their character and his style.
From the first:
My friend Jacques Cardon, I declare,
Shall have in fair free gift for good;
Also the acorns willows bear
And every day a capon fair
Or goose; likewise a tenfold vat
Of chalk-white wine, besides a pair
Of lawsuits, lest he wax too fat.”
From the last:
Shall have no quid nor quod, I trow:
But every penny of his fee
To Tricot, the young priest, shall go;
To whose expense gladly eno’
I’d drink, though it my nightcap cost:
If but he knew the dice to throw,
Of Perette’s Den I’d make him host.”
“EPITAPH
Will of Sir Thomas Denny
Thomas Denny (son and heir of Sir Edmond Denny of England, one of the King’s Exchequer), 10th May, 1527, wrote his will in manner following:
“ ... My body to be buried in the parish church of Cheshunt, where I dwell, and I will that a stone be laid on me, and that a picture of Death be made in the stone, with scrolls in his hand bearing this writing thereon:
Pray for me of yr Charity,
With a Paternoster and an Ave,
For the rest of the soul of Thomas Denny.”
Then follow sundry bequests and legacies.
In Latin Verse
There is on record the following history of a versified will. It is that of François Joseph Terrasse Desbillons, born at Chäteauneuf, in Berry, in 1711, who became a Jesuit, and, after the suppression of the order in France, principal of the College of Mannheim. He was so remarkable for the elegance and purity with which he wrote in Latin that he obtained the sobriquet of “The last of the Romans.” Owing, perhaps, to this facility, he wrote his will in Latin verse. The sight of it in this singular form somewhat startled his executors; but as all the necessary formalities had been observed, no difficulty occurred, and it was carried out in entire conformity with his wishes, without any interference on the part of the law.
A Will in Rhyme
Another poetic will, that of John Hedges, late of Finchley, Middlesex, was proved in an English court on July 5, 1737, and is worthy of a place among quaint and eccentric wills. It reads as follows:
Being airy and gay,
To trip not inclined,
But of vigorous mind,
And my body in health,
I’ll dispose of my wealth;
And of all I’m to leave
On this side the grave,
To some one or other,
I think to my brother.
That my brother-in-law
I did not take care,
Would come in for a share,
Which I noways intended,
Till their manners were mended—
And of that there’s no sign.
And strictly command,
As witness my hand,
That nought I have got
Be brought to hotch-pot.
Much as in me lies,
To the son of my mother,
My own dear brother,
To have and to hold
All my silver and gold,
As the affectionate pledges
Of his brother,
“John Hedges.”
Will of William Hickington
William Hickington, who died in the year 1770, wrote his will in rhyme, as follows:
Poet of Pocklington,
Do give and bequeath,
As free as I breathe,
To thee, Mary Jarum,
The Queen of my Harum,
My cash and my cattle,
With every chattel,
To have and to hold,
Come heat or come cold,
Sans hindrance or strife,
Though thou art not my wife.
As witness my hand,
Just here as I stand,
The twelfth of July,
In the year Seventy.
“Wm. Hickington.”
This will was admitted to probate at the Deanery Court in the City of York, England, 1770.
Will of Will Jackett
This will was proved at Doctors’ Commons, London, on July 17, 1789, and runs as follows:
When I’m laid underneath,
To my two loving sisters most dear,
The whole of my store,
Were it twice as much more,
Which God’s goodness has given me here.
This my will and intent,
Or occasion the least of law-racket,
With a solemn appeal
I confirm, sign, and seal
This the true act and deed of Will Jackett.”
Mr. William Jackett, it appears, was a faithful and trustworthy as well as a thrifty fellow, for he remained for thirty years in the service of Messrs. Fuller and Vaughan as manager of their business. He resided in the parish of St. Mary, Islington.
Will of an Irish Schoolmaster
The following is the will of Pat O’Kelly, an Irish schoolmaster, who wrote, on the leaf of a copybook which he had just finished ruling (thus exemplifying the ruling passion strong in death), the lines here transcribed:
Bequeath all I have named herein
To Harriet my dearest wife,
To have and hold as hers for life.
While in good health, and sound in mind,
This codicil I’ve undersigned.”
Rather Sacrilegious
The spirit of sacrilege is shown in an old quatrain to be found in the books:
My featherbed to my wife, Jen;
Also my carpenter’s saw and hammer;
Until she marries; then, God damn her!”
Will of William Ruffell, Esq.
William Ruffell of Shimpling, Suffolk, England, was a gentleman of an ancient and highly respectable family; he is said to have been a good specimen of an old-fashioned gentleman farmer. His will, which was written in 1803, is as follows:
And my soul to some far-distant clime wing its way,
Ere that time arrives, now I free am from cares,
I thus wish to settle my worldly affairs,
A course right and proper men of sense will agree.
I am now strong and hearty, my age forty-three;
I make this my last will, as I think ’tis quite time,
It conveys all I wish, though ’tis written in rhyme.
To employ an attorney I ne’er was inclin’d,
They are pests to society, sharks of mankind.
To avoid that base tribe my own will I now draw,
May I ever escape coming under their paw.
To Ezra Dalton, my nephew, I give all my land,
With the old Gothic cottage that thereon doth stand;
’Tis near Shimpling great road, in which I now dwell,
It looks like a chapel or hermit’s old cell,
With my furniture, plate, and linen likewise,
And securities, money, with what may arise.
’Tis my wish and desire that he should enjoy these,
And pray let him take even my skin, if he please.
To my loving, kind sister I give and bequeath,
For her tender regard, when this world I shall leave,
If she choose to accept it, my rump-bone may take,
And tip it with silver, a whistle to make.
My brother-in-law is a strange-tempered dog;
He’s as fierce as a tiger, in manners a hog;
A petty tyrant at home, his frowns how they dread;
Two ideas at once never entered his head.
So proud and so covetous, moreover so mean,
I dislike to look at him, the fellow is so lean.
He ne’er behaved well, and, though very unwilling,
Yet I feel that I must cut him off with a shilling.
My executors, too, should be men of good fame;
I appoint Edmund Ruffell, of Cockfield, by name
In his old easy chair, with short pipe and snuff,
What matter his whims, he is honest enough;
With Samuel Seely, of Alpheton Lion,
I like his strong beer, and his word can rely on.
When Death’s iron hand gives the last fatal blow,
And my shattered old frame in the dust must lie low,
Without funeral pomp let my remains be conveyed
To Brent Eleigh churchyard, near my father be laid.
This, written with my own hand, there can be no appeal,
I now therefore at once set my hand and my seal,
As being my last will; I to this fully agree,
This eighteenth day of March, eighteen hundred and three.”
Two English Wills
The following is a copy of the will of the late Mr. Joshua West, of the Six Clerks’ Office, Chancery Lane, dated December 13, 1804:
“Witnessed R. Mills.
J. A. Berry.
John Baines.”
Mr. West died possessed of property, and some valuable manuscripts, which were conveyed by the above will.
The following will in rhyme was written by William Hunnis, a gentleman of the chapel under Edward VI., and afterwards Chapel Master to Queen Elizabeth:
My body to be layd in grave, where to my friends best knowen;
Executors I will none make, thereby great stryfe may grow,
Because the goods that I shall leave wyll not pay all I owe.”
Will of James Bigsby
The following is a curious testamentary paper of a North Essex laborer, who resided at Manningtree, England:
Write it down, Joseph Finch, and make no mistake.
I wish to leave all things fair and right, do you see,
And my relatives satisfy. Now, listen to me.
The first in my will is Lydia my wife,
Who to me proved a comfort three years of my life;
The second my poor aged mother I say,
With whom I have quarrelled on many a day,
For which I’ve been sorry, and also am still;
I wish to give her a place in my will.
The third that I mention is my dear little child;
When I think of her, Joseph, I feel almost wild.
Uncle Sam Bigsby, I must think of him too,
Peradventure he will say that I scarcely can do.
And poor Uncle Gregory, I must leave him a part,
If it is nothing else but the back of the cart.
And for you, my executor, I will do what I can,
For acting towards me like an honest young man.
First thing is the bedstead before the front door;
The next is the chair standing by the fireside,
The fender and irons she cleaned with much pride.
I also bequeath to Lydia my wife
A box in the cupboard, a sword, a gun, and knife,
And the harmless old pistol without any lock,
Which no man can fire off, for ’tis minus a cock.
The cups and the saucers I leave her also,
And a book called ‘The History of Poor Little Mo,’
With the kettle, the boiler, and old frying-pan,
A shovel, a mud-scoop, a pail, and a pan.
And remember, I firmly declare my protest
That my poor aged mother shall have my oak chest
And the broken whip under it. Do you hear what I say?
Write all these things down without any delay.
And my dear little child, I must think of her too.
Friend Joseph, I am dying, what shall I do?
I give her my banyan, my cap, and my hose,
My big monkey-jacket, my shirt, and my shoes;
And to Uncle Sam Bigsby, I bequeath my high boots,
The pickaxe and mattock with which I stubbed roots.
And poor Uncle Gregory, with the whole of my heart,
I give for a bedstead the back of the cart.
And to you, my executor, last in my will,
I bequeath a few trifles to pay off your bill.
I give you my shot-belt, my dog, and my nets,
And the rest of my goods sell to pay off my debts.
“Joseph Finch, Executor.
“Dated February 4th, 1839.”
From Missouri
Under the spell of the Muse, Joseph Johnson Cassiday, a well-known farmer of Jasper County, Missouri, prepared his will in rhyme; for several years this document answered the purposes of the testator; just prior to his death, however, in March, 1910, more serious thoughts seem to have come over him, and Mr. Cassiday executed a different will, the last being done in the usual prose form. The will in rhyme is given below:
Being sound of mind and memory,
Do hereby publish my intent,
This my will and testament,
That all my just debts first be paid,
Expense for burial and funeral made,
And all expenses made of late,
Out of my personal and real estate.
I do bequeath, devise and give,
As long as she, my wife, shall live,
Lot six in the original town of Lever,
To her assigns and heirs forever.
To my adopted daughter Marie,
I do devise and give in fee,
The southeast quarter of section seven
Township nine and range eleven.
To my two sons Josephus and Reach,
I do devise one dollar each.
The residue of my estate,
I do bequeath to Mary Kate,
And I hereby appoint her for,
My last will, executor.
This eighteenth day of May was done,
In the year of our Lord, Nineteen One.”
CHAPTER IV
CURIOUS WILLS
“Most men are within a finger’s breadth of being mad; for if a man walk with his middle finger pointing out, folk will think him mad, but not so if it be his forefinger.”
“Where be your Gibes now? Your Gambols? Your songs? Your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar?”
1
Husbands, Wives, and Children
“Men should be careful lest they cause women to weep, for God counts their tears.”
An editorial on “Testamentary Habits and Peculiar Wills,” appeared in the Western Reserve Law Journal some time ago. Its excellence merits a reproduction in part:
“The laws of human nature underlie all systems of jurisprudence. Positive law is evolved out of long periods of human phenomena. The general systems of law are the composite products of innumerable generations of men. These accepted codes are supposed to embody the survivals of an immemorial struggle between right and wrong, and the highest sentiments of justice, and the clearest perfection of reason of all ages. But it is a remarkable fact that one-half of all the property in the world, in the succession of generations, is transmitted and controlled by the supreme purpose and disposition of individual men and women. The tenure of property is not always held, nor is it transmitted, according to legislative enactments or judicial law. Under the testamentary privilege secured by law the unenlightened mind often becomes the legislature which frames and promulgates the rule of descent which fixes the destiny of millions of property. The perfect freedom and untrammelled modes of expression, secured in the will-making privilege, results in the manifestation of the most normal and spontaneous spirit of the individual.
“For genuine and authentic repositories of human idiosyncrasies and whimsical peculiarities, as well as lofty sentiments and noble thoughts on high themes, there is nothing comparable with the last will and testament. There are several reasons for the existence of this fact.
“1st. The will is usually the product of grave thought and deliberation. It is the matured disposition of the individual testator, framed and published in the exercise of one of the highest and best appreciated rights granted by society to the individual. The will is also the outgrowth of the individual’s sense of duty involved in sacred domestic and family obligations and relationships.
“2d. The right to make the will confers the privilege coveted by both men and women to speak into the universal ear ‘the last word.’ The sum of man’s moral sense, and his exact ethical tone, is not infrequently concentrated in his last will.
“3d. In the ages of the world, when the agitation of religious beliefs was most prevalent, men were prone to give a summary of their opinions upon religion in their wills. The rites and ceremonies of sepulchre are often prescribed; the belief in immortality is often expressed in these sacred documents. The vanities and foibles, the whims and caprices, the eccentricities and prejudices, all leave their exact mould and expression in this important instrument. The cynic adopts this means of giving a parting blow to the unfriendly and unsympathizing world. It is said that the mould and fashion of the human form was so preserved in ancient Egypt by the embalmer’s art that the peculiar physiognomy of the Pharaohs is discovered after three thousand years of burial. This art of preservation has been lost. But in the numerous receptacles for recorded wills in Europe and America are found the mummified intellectual and spiritual remains of past generations as clearly and positively embalmed as are the bodies of the Pharaohs.
“It is interesting to note the influence of long-established customs upon the social habits of people. The present habitat of the will-making people is continental Europe. This fact is susceptible of easy explanation. The jurisprudence of the continent is founded on Roman law. Sir Henry Sumner Maine has well said: ‘To the Romans belong preëminently the credit of inventing the will, the institution which, next to the contract, has exercised the greatest influence in transforming human society.... To the Roman no evil seems to have been a heavier visitation than the forfeiture of testamentary privilege; no curse seems to have been bitterer than that imprecated upon an enemy ‘that he might die without a will.’”
*******
“The odd freaks, vagaries and vanities of men thus find permanent lodgment in testamentary remains. While these features of the will at first appear to defy classification, yet by careful examination, extending over long periods, the manifestation of unvarying habits of mind, and the existence of constant and controlling instincts and motives, are readily discovered.
“These natures of ours, when freely dealing with the subject of property, and exhibiting solemn sentiments upon duty and destiny, unconsciously yield to fundamental laws of uniform operation; and these testamentary memorials may be made to furnish much curious instruction upon psychological and sociological subjects.”
Duty of Husbands to make Wills
The following article from the pen of Harriette M. Johnston-Wood, of the New York bar, appeared in Harper’s Weekly in the issue of September 24, 1910; there is much in it which should appeal to the sense of justice and manhood of the husbands, brothers and sons of our country. The barbaric treatment of women with reference to property rights should no longer find a place in the laws of a country which boasts of its enlightenment and freedom as does the United States. It is gratifying to record that a more liberal policy is fast being adopted by the law-making bodies of our States.
Our author says:
“It has been our custom for a number of years to pass our summer vacation on the banks of Lake Seneca, where one of us was born. Here our paternal grandparents came when the country was yet a wilderness, and here they lived and died. Their wedding journey from Rensselaerwick was made in a covered wagon, in which they brought their worldly possessions, some chairs, a table, a bed, a stove, some dishes and cooking utensils. A half-dozen sheep and a cow brought up the rear of this caravan. Here they cleared the ground and built a house. Grandmother dyed and carded and spun into yarn and wove into cloth the wool from the sheep, from which she knitted the socks and mittens and made the clothing. From the flax which grew wild thereabouts she made the household linen. No small tasks were these when eventually nine children came to demand care and protection. Once a year a perambulating shoemaker came through the country, and then this small army was shod, with boots and shoes in reserve sufficient to last until his return. By and by a frame house was built, a luxury in those days; property was accumulated.
“To whom did it belong?
“In justice and equity it belonged to both parents. Each had borne the burden; each should share in the reward. But the law said no. The wife’s services belong to the husband, and their joint earnings belong to him, only the husband must support the wife. The wife owned nothing. Truly a munificent compensation for fifty years of service such as this!
“Did grandfather support grandmother? Were grandmother’s services less valuable than grandfather’s? By what righteous authority did everything belong to grandfather?—he being allowed to give or will away everything, except the use of one-third of the real estate, which grandmother might have after his death, but for her lifetime only. It was barely possible that grandmother might have liked to give or will something to her children on her own account. When she had earned it, by years of toil as hard as his, why should she not have been allowed to gratify this altogether worthy ambition?
“Forty years ago a boy and a girl married. He had nothing. She had saved five hundred dollars teaching school. They bought a farm, paying her five hundred dollars down, and taking a mortgage for the balance. Title was taken in the husband’s name. They worked together for forty years. He died, leaving no will. There were no children. Under the law of the State the property went to his brothers and sisters, all old, all well-to-do. The personalty amounted to very little. The wife’s dower, the use of one-third during her life, amounts to less than $200 a year, and this is her sole support in her old age.
“In that section of the country women can get one dollar a day for at least half the year working in fruit, tying grape-vines, putting handles on baskets, picking berries, cherries, and currants, and packing grapes, peaches and plums. Household service is always at a premium, as no one there will go out to do that kind of work. They are the descendants of the old settlers and are proud. The married women work in the fruit in the daytime, and perform their household duties at night. This means baking and cooking and stewing, and washing and ironing and mending for the hired men as well as the family. Incidentally they raise children. No one person could be hired to do this work. They do it for love, but we believe there is no insurmountable obstacle in the way of getting both love and justice; we believe that love and injustice are irreconcilable,—and if we must choose between them, my advice is to exact justice and take a chance on love.
| “To wife’s services, 40 years at $3 per week (worth $5),
allowing for clothing, which she makes herself and which seldom equals and rarely exceeds $30 a year, about | $30,000 |
| To $500 and interest, 40 years, about | 6,000 |
| Total | $36,000 |
“Would the whole estate have been more than this wife was entitled to?
“A bride was presented by her uncle with $2000, with which the thrifty bridegroom bought sheep. It proved a profitable investment, and in time they were well-to-do. At the expiration of fifty years of matrimony and mutual toil (which included the rearing of six children) the husband died. By his last will and testament he gave to his beloved wife two thousand dollars in cash, or her dower interest in his real estate. The wife took the cash. Her original two thousand dollars for fifty years then amounted to about $60,000.
“This shows that a wife may be considered to be a good investment.
*******
“A clerk in a delicatessen store in a large city married a German governess. They started a similar store of their own and lived in the rear. The wife did the housework and the cooking and baking for the store, and between times waited on customers. They were frugal and prospered. After twenty years the husband died. The wife naturally thought she was entitled to the property, at least a portion of it. But the husband had made a will prior to his marriage, whereby he devised his property to his brothers and sisters.”
*******
“The staple argument of the opponents of equal laws for men and women is that wives are privileged in that they can do with their own as they like, while the husbands cannot. But is the property the husband’s any more than the wife’s when they accumulate it jointly? Up to the marriageable age girls earn nothing; after marriage their services belong to their husbands. Where is the opportunity to accumulate property which shall be their very own in the eyes of the law, with which they may do as they like? What provision can they make for possible incapacity and certain old age if they live?”
Will of a Chinaman
There was filed in the Surrogate’s Office of Queens County, New York, on October 1, 1910, what the newspapers refer to as the queerest instrument ever recorded in New York City. The testator was John Ling, a Chinaman, of Woodbridge, New Jersey.
The original will was probated in Middlesex County, New Jersey, but as Ling was the owner of considerable real estate in Queens County, before settlement could be made an exemplified copy of the will had to be filed there.
It appears that John Ling, Jr., a son of the deceased, had taken an Irish bride, much against the will of his father. The Chinaman was enraged, and talked long and earnestly with his son upon the subject. But to no avail. The young man refused to leave his Irish bride. When the old man died, he left the following will:
“First, I leave and bequeath to John Ling, my son, the sum of $1. With the said sum of $1, or 100 cents, I wish that he would purchase a rope strong and long enough to support his Irish wife; the said sum of $1 to be paid six months after my decease by my wife, her heirs or executors.
“Secondly, I leave and bequeath to my wife, Mary Ling, all property, whether in America or England, that I may be possessed of, during her natural life; and at her death said property is to be equally divided between Samson and Mary Ling, son and daughter of John and Mary Ling; and should neither Samson nor Mary survive to come in possession of the said property now belonging to John and Mary Ling, the property is then to descend unto John Ling, the son of Joseph Ling, my nephew, now residing in Europe, with the exception of the $1 to be paid to my son, John Ling.”
Two Hundred Dollars for a Husband
According to the New York Sun, an attractive young German woman of Washington, D.C., walked into a newspaper office in that city on October 11, 1910, and requested the insertion of the following advertisement:
“‘Young woman, fairly wealthy, from foreign country, desires to meet at once some poor young man. Object, matrimony.’
“She gave her name as Eugenie Adams, but admitted that this was an assumed name. She said she was willing to give her prospective husband a bonus of $200. She explained that her uncle, who lived in Germany, had named her as the beneficiary in his will, provided she married in a week.
“‘You see it is this way,’ she explained with a German accent, ‘my old uncle is very eccentric. He lives in the Fatherland, where all my people are. He has named me the beneficiary of his will if I am married by a week from to-day. I am very poor. I want the money. I plan to get married in order to obtain it. I will pay any young man $200 to marry me.
“‘But I will be no trouble to him,’ she continued. ‘I will get a divorce from him at once and never see him again. I do not want to remain married. I only want to return to Germany at once with my marriage papers. Could a man make $200 in an easier way?’
“She declined to give the amount of the legacy she expected to obtain through her marriage.”
The Result
The St. Louis Times in a recent editorial comments on the “Two-hundred-dollar Husband,” as follows:
“We have been much interested in a story which has been telegraphed from Washington, and which relates the circumstances under which a presentable fraulein bought a husband, in order that she might inherit an estate—which was willed her on the condition that she marry within a given time.
“She appears to have wanted the estate badly, though the idea of having a husband did not appeal to her at all. Perhaps there was a ruddy faced Heine at home with whom she had danced in the old days, and who still held her heart in thrall. Be that as it may—as Laura Jean Libbey would say—she married her emergency husband in Washington only because she had to, in order to get the estate.
“She did not wish ever to see her husband again, and when a sailor appeared in response to her advertisement, she rather liked the looks of him—for the occasion at hand—but decided, wisely, that he would not do, because ‘he travelled around the world, and she might see him again.’ She finally decided in favor of one Harry Oliver Brown, who wore a flowing sandy mustache, and a celluloid collar, and carried a walking-stick. We should have thought the flowing sandy mustache would have been enough, though we have no objection to the celluloid collar and the walking-stick, if they be thought to possess a corroborative value.
“And so the two were married, and Mrs. Brown gave her hired husband $200 and bade him good-by and left, without even saying she would hurry back, and boarded a ship for the Fatherland, where the estate was—and, presumably, is.
“We have related this quaint fable because it seems to possess a valuable idea for those who contemplate matrimony, not because they consider themselves fitted for it in any way, but because they feel they ‘have to get married’—so much the slave to public opinion are many estimable young people.
“If the thing has to be done, we commend the method of Mrs. Harry Oliver Brown. A sandy mustache, a celluloid collar, and a walking-stick can always be had for a song—and there is not a very heavy percentage of sailors.”
Knew her Disposition
It is recorded of an old English farmer, that, in giving instructions for his will, he directed a legacy of one hundred pounds be given to his widow. Being informed that some distinction was usually made in case the widow married again, he doubled the sum; and when told that this was quite contrary to custom, he said, with heartfelt sympathy for his possible successor, “Aye, but him as gets her’ll deserve it.”
Clothes on a Hickory Limb
The will of Charles C. Dickinson, former president of the Carnegie Trust Company, who died a few months ago, contains a bequest of $4000 for the education of his son Charles, at Cornell, with the strange stipulation that the son shall forfeit this allowance if he goes “to or upon Cayuga Lake.”
The lake is used by the Cornell crews and by students for canoeing and sailing.
To a nephew he leaves $2000 for educational purposes, with the same restrictions regarding Cayuga Lake.
Sarcastic Will
A British sailor requested his executors to pay to his wife one shilling, wherewith to buy hazelnuts, as she had always preferred cracking nuts to mending his stockings.
A Contrite Husband
J. Withipol of Walthamstow, Essex County, England, left his landed estates to his wife, “trusting, yea, I may say, as I think, assuring myself, that she will marry no man, for fear to meet with so evil a husband as I have been to her.”
Aunt Lunky’s Will
The author has sought with little success for wills which would portray the character of the negro race, although the aid of Mr. Booker T. Washington was enlisted in this behalf. One, however, is offered:
Aunt Lunky was a negro servant and resided in Jacksonville, Illinois. For several generations, she had lived with the same family and had been a party to all household duties and functions during that period: she made her will, and her savings, some two hundred and fifty dollars, she left to “little Billie.” “Little Billie” was the great-grandson of her employer, and the pet of the household: in order that there might be no mistake in identifying the legatee, a picture of the baby boy was securely attached to the testament.
Will of the Duchesse de Praslin
By her will made in 1784, this testatrix, strangely enough, disinherited her own children, being falsely persuaded that her husband had substituted for them others whom he had had by an actress. She made her legatees the grandchildren of the Prince de Soubise, whom she did not even know. Her will was contested, and set aside. It contained another singular bequest—that by which she left to her husband a model of the Cheval de Bronze (the equestrian statue of Henri IV. on the Pont Neuf).
Must ever Pray
Not long ago an Italian nobleman left all his money, which amounted to about $50,000, to his wife, “to be disposed of according to her own ideas,” provided she entered a religious order and spent the rest of her life praying for the repose of his soul. If she refused the conditions, the money went to the order direct, and she got nothing.
The poor woman is now fighting the will in court, and there is said to be some prospect that the estate will be divided and one-half, or at least a life interest in the income, given to her. This, however, can be done only by compromise.
The reason for this strange condition is said to have been revenge. The wife had a lover, and the husband did not discover the fact until during his last sickness, when she neglected previous precautions and he learned of her flirtations. The husband was also afraid that she would marry her lover, and is said to have told his lawyer that he would fix things so that the scoundrel could not have the benefit of his money, even if he did enjoy the affections of his wife.
A Cold World
Ellen H. Cooper, West Somerset Street, Philadelphia, died recently. Pathos and worldly wisdom are mingled in her will. She wrote the instrument with her own hand. It follows in part:
“All the money and furniture I have has been saved through my earnings and hard work, therefore, I wish my two sons, John W. Cooper and Bernard M. Cooper, to follow to the letter my wishes.
“My one real anxiety has been their future after my death. They cannot now realize what a lonely life theirs will be without home or parents, for I know, except one has money, there is no one to care what becomes of one. Therefore I have saved for one purpose, that if either, or both, live to be old and unable to work you may find a home and pay so much to be kept the rest of their lives. There will be enough left to clothe you. All I am possessed of I want put out at interest. I do not want one cent of it spent otherwise, excepting what it takes to pay my funeral expenses. Remember, dear boys, this is a cold world and I would long since have been glad to lay down my burden had it not been for my love for you.”
Beautiful Sentiments to Wives
As an expression of controlling impulses and ideas, the will has ever been associated with the home and family life. Some of the purest and sweetest sentiments of the human heart are often contained in these legal muniments. They are often the permanent repositories of the loftiest feelings of conjugal and domestic affection. More than fifty per cent of the wills made bequeath the bulk of the estate, absolutely or for life, to the surviving spouse.
A beautiful expression of this holy sentiment of affection is found in the will of John Starkey, probated in 1861. This testator says: “The remainder of my wealth is vested in the affection of my dear wife, with whom I leave it, in the good hope of resuming it more pure, bright and precious, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where there are no railways or monetary panics or fluctuations of exchange, but steadfast, though progressive and unspeakable riches of glory and immortality.”
The following is another example of solicitude for a devoted wife. Sharon Turner, the eminent author of the “History of the Anglo-Saxons,” dying in his eightieth year, in 1847, left this testimonial to his wife, who had died before him: “It is my comfort to have remembered that I have passed with her nearly forty-nine years of unabated affection and connubial happiness, and yet she is still living, as I earnestly hope and believe, under her Saviour’s care, in a superior state of being.” He was anxious that her portrait, which he directed should be painted and bequeathed, should correctly represent her. He then adds: “None of the portraits of my beloved wife give any adequate representation of her beautiful face, nor of the sweet and intellectual and attractive appearance of her living features and general countenance and character.”
Kindness to Widows
Testators in the present day frequently and ungallantly leave property to their widows only so long as they shall remain unmarried. In looking through some of the wills of the time of Henry VII., we do not find such a condition attached. There are many instances to be found, however, of the husband’s affectionate care for the future comfort of his wife. To quote two or three: First, from the will of William Parker: “Also I make Master John Aggecombe, Alderman of Oxford, my overseer, to se my last will performed; and I geve to hym for his labour my best crymsyn gowne so that he be frendly to Alice my wife.” In the will of Robert Offe, of Boston, Lincolnshire, after appointing Master Thomas Robynson and Master John Robynson overseers, he goes on to say: “And I beseche you, maisters both, that ye be good frends unto my wyf, and that ye will help her.” William Holybrande, gentleman citizen and “tailler” of London, bequeaths to each of his executors, William Bodley and William Grove, for their labor, £5 sterling, and “to be goode and kynde to my wyfe.” He appoints as overseer, “Robert Joyns, my cousin, one of the gentleman ushers of the chambre of our Sovaigne Lorde the Kynge,” and bequeaths to him £5 sterling “for his labour, and that he may help my wyfe in all her troubill, if any shall happen to her here after.” He also gives and bequeaths “to Roger Delle, my servant, so that he be lovyng and gentill to my wyfe, and give a trewe accompte for such besynese as he hath reconyng of, £5 sterlinge.” These three wills were all proved in 1505.
Would not be Good
In 1772, a gentleman of Surrey, England, died, and his will being opened was found to contain this peculiar clause, “Whereas, it was my misfortune to be made very uneasy by ——, my wife, for many years from our marriage, by her turbulent behavior, for she was not content to despise my admonitions, but she contrived every method to make me unhappy; she was so perverse in her nature that she would not be reclaimed, but seemed only to be born to be a plague to me; the strength of Samson, the knowledge of Homer, the prudence of Augustus, the cunning of Pyrrhus, the patience of Job, the subtlety of Hannibal and the watchfulness of Hermogenes could not have been sufficient to subdue her; for no skill or force in the world would make her good; and as we have lived separate and apart from each other for eight years, and, she having perverted her son to leave and totally abandon me, therefore, I give her a shilling.”
Must remain at Home
The last will and testament of Lawrence Engler was admitted to probate September 19, 1910, at Columbus, Ohio. It disposes of an estate valued at $10,000. He was killed in a recent wreck on the Hocking Valley Railroad near Toledo.
He provides in his will that his widow and their children be given the proceeds resulting from the rent of his property and that they all must remain at home. When they leave, they forfeit all rights to the income.
So long as they live together they are to share the income, but when one leaves he loses his interest.
This arrangement is to remain during the life of all, but no provision is made for the disposal of the remainder.
The will is peculiar in another way. The testator, after its execution, took the liberty of striking out some of the provisions without having the amendments witnessed. He failed to make a codicil, but does say that he did the scratching himself.
Danger in Mutual Wills
The wills of Mrs. Mary Louise Woeltge and Professor Albert Woeltge were filed in the Probate Court at Stamford, Connecticut, on September 20, 1910, and they reveal a somewhat unusual situation. Professor Woeltge was the first to pass away at Walpole, New Hampshire, on September 12th. His wife died there a day later. Both left wills executed April 11, 1895. Professor Woeltge left all his estate to his wife and appointed her sole executrix. Mrs. Woeltge by her will left all her property to her husband.
Professor Woeltge inserted a clause by way of explanation to his nephew, Albert A. Woeltge, and his niece, Lillie Woeltge, both of New York, of this disposition of the estate. It was, in effect, that the money by which he acquired the property disposed of in the will came most, if not all of it, from his wife or her mother.
Professor Woeltge left two letters, one addressed to his wife and the other to his niece and nephew. The letter to his wife carried a direct expression of desire that on her death all the money he left her go to the children of his brother William, “that they might know that I loved them best after you.” The question arises as to who will get the property.
The Worst of Women
Henry, Earl of Stafford, who followed the fortunes of his royal master James II., and attended him in his exile to France, married there the daughter of the Duc de Grammont, at the end of the seventeenth century. The marriage was a most unhappy one, and, after fourteen years’ endurance of the disgraceful conduct of his wife, he wrote as follows in his will:
“To the worst of women, Claude Charlotte de Grammont, unfortunately my wife, guilty as she is of all crimes, I leave five-and-forty brass halfpence, which will buy a pullet for her supper. A better gift than her father can make her; for I have known when, having not the money, neither had he the credit for such a purchase; he being the worst of men, and his wife the worst of women, in all debaucheries. Had I known their characters I had never married their daughter, and made myself unhappy.”