of Gloucestershire. His grave and coffin were made under his
directions more than a twelvemonth previous to his death; he wrote
the inscriptions, he gave the orders for his funeral, and wrapped
in separate pieces of paper five shillings for each of the bearers.
The coffin was very neatly made, and looked more like a piece of
cabinet-work for a drawing-room than a receptacle for the dead.
Dr. Fidge, a physician of the old school, who in early days had
accompanied the Duke of Clarence (afterwards William IV.) when a
midshipman as medical attendant, possessed a favourite boat; upon his
retirement from Portsmouth Dockyard, where he held an appointment,
he had this boat converted into a coffin, with the sternpiece fixed
at its head. This coffin he kept under his bed for many years. The
circumstances of his death were very remarkable. Feeling his end
approaching, and desiring to add a codicil to his will, he sent for
his solicitor. On entering his chamber he found him suffering from
a paroxysm of pain, but which soon ceased; availing himself of the
temporary ease to ask him how he felt, he replied, smiling: "I feel
as easy as an old shoe," and looking towards the nurse in attendance,
said: "Just pull my legs straight, and place me as a dead man; it will
save you trouble shortly," words which he had scarcely uttered before
he calmly died.
Job Orton, of the Bell Inn, Kidderminster, had his tombstone, with an
epitaphic couplet, erected in the parish churchyard; and his coffin was
used by him for a wine-bin until required for another purpose.
Dr. John Gardner, "the worm doctor," originally of Long Acre, erected
his tomb and wrote the inscription thereon some years before his death.
Strangers reading the inscription naturally concluded he was like his
predecessor, "Egregious Moore," immortalized by Pope, "food for worms,"
whereas he was still following his profession, that of a worm-doctor,
in Norton Folgate, where he had a shop, in the window of which were
displayed numerous bottles containing specimens of tape and other
worms, with the names of the persons who had been tormented by them,
and the date of their ejection. Finding his practice declining from the
false impression conveyed by his epitaph, he dexterously caused the
word _intended_ to be interpolated, and the inscription for a long time
afterwards ran as follows:--
intended
Dr. John Gardner's last and best bedroom.
^
He was a stout, burly man, with a flaxen wig, and rode daily into
London on a large roan-coloured horse.
Not a few misers have carried their penury into the arrangements for
their interment. Edward Nokes, of Hornchurch, by his own direction,
was buried in this curious fashion:--A short time before his death,
which he hastened by the daily indulgence in nearly a quart of spirits,
he gave strict charge that his coffin should not have a nail in it,
which was actually adhered to, the lid being made fast with hinges of
cord, and minus a coffin-plate, for which the initials E. N. cut upon
the wood were substituted. His shroud was made of a pound of wool. The
coffin was covered with a sheet in place of a pall, and was carried by
six men, to each of whom he directed should be given half-a-crown. At
his particular desire, too, not one who followed him to the grave was
in mourning; but, on the contrary, each of the mourners appeared to
try whose dress should be the most striking. Even the undertaker was
dressed in a blue coat and scarlet waistcoat.
Another deplorable case might be cited, that of Thomas Pitt, of
Warwickshire. It is reported that some weeks prior to the sickness
which terminated his despicable career, he went to several undertakers
in quest of a cheap coffin. He had left behind him 3,475_l._ in the
public funds.
[Illustration: Major Peter Labelliere. From Kingsbury's print.]
Burials on Box Hill and Leith Hill.
As the railway traveller passes over Red Hill, on the London and
Brighton line, his attention can scarcely fail to be struck with two
prominent points in the charming landscape--Box Hill, covered with its
patronymic shrub; and Leith Hill, surmounted by a square tower. On each
of these elevations is buried an eccentric person: one with his head
downwards, and the other in the usual horizontal position; but the
fondness for exaggerating things already extraordinary, has led to the
common misstatement that one person is buried with his head downwards,
and the other standing upon his feet. Of the two interments, however,
the following are the true versions.
On the north-western brow of Box Hill, and nearly in a line with the
stream of the Mole, as it flows towards Burford Bridge, was interred,
some sixty-five years since, Major Peter Labelliere, an officer of
marines. During the latter years of his life he had resided at Dorking,
and, in accordance with his own desire, he was interred on this spot,
long denoted by a wooden stake or stump. This gentleman in early life
fell in love with a lady, who, although he was remarkably handsome in
person, rejected his addresses. This circumstance inflicted a deep
wound on his mind, which, at a later period, religion and politics
entirely unsettled. Yet his eccentricities were harmless, and himself
the only sufferer. At this time the Duke of Devonshire, who had been
formerly fond of the major's society, settled on him a pension of
100_l._ a year. Labelliere then lived at Chiswick, and there wrote
several tracts, both polemical and political, but the incoherency of
his arguments was demonstrative of mental incapacity. From Chiswick he
frequently walked to London, his pockets filled to overflowing with
newspapers and pamphlets, and on the road he delighted to harangue the
ragged boys who followed him. He next removed to Dorking, and there
resided in a mean cottage, called "The Hole in the Wall," on Butter
Hill. Among the anecdotes of his eccentricity it is related that, to a
gentleman with whom he was intimate he presented a packet, carefully
folded and sealed, with a particular injunction not to open it till
after his death. This request was strictly complied with, when it was
found to contain merely a blank memorandum-book.
Long prior to his decease he selected the point of Box-Hill we have
named, where, in compliance with his oft-expressed wish, he was
buried, without church rites, with his head _downwards_; in order,
he said, that as "the world was turned topsy-turvy, it was fit that
he should be so buried that he might be _right at last_."[19] He
died June 6th, 1800, and was interred on the 10th of the same month,
when great numbers of persons witnessed his funeral; and the slight
wooden bridge which then crossed the Mole having been removed by some
mischievous persons during the interment many had to wade through the
river on returning homewards. The Major earned not the uncommon reward
of eccentricity--his portrait being engraved--by H. Kingsbury. Under
Labelliere's name is inscribed in the print--
"A Christian patriot and Citizen of the World."
[19] Honest Jack Fuller, who is buried in a pyramidal mausoleum in
Brightling churchyard, in Sussex, gave as his reason for being thus
disposed of, his unwillingness to be eaten by his relations after this
fashion: "The worms would eat me, the ducks would eat the worms, and my
relations would eat the ducks."
The interment on Leith Hill is less characterised by oddity than that
of Major Labelliere on Box Hill. In a mansion on the south side of
Leith Hill lived Mr. Richard Hull, a gentleman of fortune, who, in
1766, with the permission of Sir John Evelyn, of Wotton, built a tower
on the summit of Leith Hill, from which the sea is visible, and it
became a landmark for mariners. It comprised two rooms, which were
handsomely furnished by the founder, for the accommodation of those
who resorted thither to enjoy the prospect. Over the entrance, on the
west side, was placed a stone with a Latin inscription, which may be
thus translated: "Traveller, this very conspicuous tower was erected by
Richard Hull, of Leith Hill Place, Esq., in the reign of George III.,
1766, that you might obtain an extensive prospect over a beautiful
country; not solely for his own pleasure, but for the accommodation of
his neighbours and all men."
Mr. Hull, was, by his own direction, interred within this tower,
and an epitaph inscribed on a marble slab let into the wall, on
the ground-floor, stated that he died January 18th, 1772, in his
eighty-third year. He was the oldest bencher of the Middle Temple, and
sat many years in the Parliament of Ireland. He lived, in his earlier
years, in intimacy with Pope, Trenchard, Bishop Berkeley, and other
distinguished men of the period; "and, to wear off the remainder of his
days, he purchased Leith Hill Place for a retirement, where he led the
life of a true Christian and rural philosopher; and, by his particular
desire, his remains were here deposited, in a private manner, under
this tower, which he had erected a few years before his death."
After the decease of the founder, the building was neglected, and
suffered to fall into decay; but about 1796, Mr. W. Philip Perrin, who
had purchased Mr. Hull's estate, had the tower thoroughly repaired,
heightened several feet, and surmounted by a coping and battlement, so
as to render it a more conspicuous sea-mark; but the lower part was
filled in with lime and rubbish, and the entrance walled up. Leith Hill
is the highest eminence in Surrey, its extreme point being 993 feet
above the sea-level. It commands a view 200 miles in circumference.
Dennis, the critic, described this prospect as superior to anything he
had ever seen in England or Italy, in its surpassing "rural charms,
pomp, and magnificence."
Jeremy Bentham's Bequest of his Remains.
Bentham's long life was incessantly and laboriously devoted to the
good of his species: in pursuance of which he ever felt that incessant
labour a happy task, that long life but too short for its benevolent
object. The preservation of his remains by his physician and friend,
to whose care they were confided, was in exact accordance with his
own desire. He had early in life determined to leave his body for
dissection. By a document dated as far back as 1769, he being then
only twenty two-years of age, bequeathed it for that purpose to his
friend, Dr. Fordyce. The document is in the following remarkable
words:--
"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."
A memorandum affixed to this document shows that it had undergone
Bentham's revision two months before his death, and that this part of
it had been solemnly ratified and confirmed. The Anatomy Bill, passed
subsequently to his death, for which a foundation had been laid in _The
Use of the Dead to the Living_ (first published in the _Westminster
Review_, and afterwards reprinted, and a copy given to every member of
Parliament), had removed the main obstructions in the way of obtaining
anatomical knowledge; but the state of the law previous to the adoption
of the Anatomy Act was such as to foster the popular prejudices against
dissection, and the effort to remove these prejudices was well worthy
of a philanthropist. After all the lessons which science and humanity
might learn from the dissection of his body had been taught, Bentham
further directed that the skeleton should be put together and kept
entire; that the head and face should be preserved; that the whole
figure, arranged as naturally as possible, should be attired in the
clothes he ordinarily wore, seated in his own chair, and maintaining
the attitude and aspect most familiar to him.
Mr. Bentham was perfectly aware that difficulty and even obloquy
might attend a compliance with the directions he gave concerning the
disposal of his body. He therefore chose three friends, whose firmness
he believed to be equal to the task, and asked them if their affection
for him would enable them to brave such consequences. They engaged
to follow his directions to the letter, and they were faithful to
their pledge. The performance of the first part of this duty is thus
described by an eye-witness, W. J. Fox, in the _Monthly Repository_ for
July, 1832:--
"None who were present can ever forget that impressive scene. The
room (the lecture-room of the Webb Street School of Anatomy) is small
and circular, with no window but a central sky-light, and capable
of containing about three hundred persons. It was filled, with the
exception of a class of medical students and some eminent members of
that profession, by friends, disciples, and admirers of the deceased
philosopher, comprising many men celebrated for literary talent,
scientific research, and political activity. The corpse was on the
table in the middle of the room, directly under the light, clothed
in a night-dress, with only the head and hands exposed. There was no
rigidity in the features, but an expression of placid dignity and
benevolence. This was at times rendered almost vital by the reflection
of the lightning playing over them; for a storm arose just as the
lecturer commenced, and the profound silence in which he was listened
to was broken and only broken by loud peals of thunder, which continued
to roll at intervals throughout the delivery of his most appropriate
and often affecting address. With the feelings which touch the heart
in the contemplation of departed greatness, and in the presence of
death, there mingled a sense of the power which that lifeless body
seemed to be exercising in the conquest of prejudice for the public
good, thus co-operating with the triumphs of the spirit by which it
had been animated. It was a worthy close of the personal career of the
great philanthropist and philosopher. Never did corpse of hero on the
battle-field, 'with his martial cloak around him,' or funeral obsequies
chanted by stoled and mitred priests in Gothic aisles, excite such
emotions as the stern simplicity of that hour in which the principle of
utility triumphed over the imagination and the heart."
The skeleton of Bentham, dressed in the clothes which he usually wore,
and with a wax face, modelled by Dr. Talrych, enclosed in a mahogany
case, with folding-doors, may now be seen in the Anatomical Museum of
University College Hospital, Gower Street, London.
The Marquis of Anglesey's Leg.
Among the curiosities of Waterloo are the grave of the late Marquis
of Anglesey's leg, and the house in which it was cut off, and where
the boot belonging to it is preserved! The owner of the house to
whose share this relic has fallen finds it a most lucrative source of
revenue, and will, in spite of the absurdity of the thing, probably
bequeath it to his children as a valuable property. He has interred the
leg most decorously in the garden of the inn, within a coffin, under a
weeping willow, and has honoured it with a monument and the following
epitaph:--
Ci est enterrée la Jambe
de l'illustre et vaillant Comte d'Uxbridge,
Lieutenant-Général de S. M. Britannique,
Commandant en chef la cavalrie Anglaise, Belge, et Hollandaise,
blessé le 18 Juin, 1815,
à la mémorable bataille de Waterloo;
qui par son héroisme a concouru au triomphe de la cause
du genre humain;
Glorieusement décidée par l'éclatante victoire du dit jour.
Some wag scribbled this infamous couplet beneath the inscription:--
Here lies the Marquis of Anglesey's limb,
The devil will have the rest of him.
More apposite is the following epitaph, attributed to Mr. Canning,
on reading the description of the tomb erected to the memory of the
Marquis of Anglesey's leg:--
Here rests,--and let no saucy knave
Presume to sneer or laugh,
To learn that mould'ring in this grave
There lies--a British _calf_.
For he who writes these lines is sure
That those who read the whole,
Will find that laugh was premature,
For here, too, lies a _soul_.
And here five little ones repose,
Twin born with other five,
Unheeded by their brother toes,
Who all are now alive.
A leg and foot, to speak more plain,
Lie here of one commanding;
Who, though he might his wits retain,
Lost half his understanding.
And when the guns, with thunder bright,
Poured bullets thick as hail,
Could only in this way be taught
To give the foe _leg bail_.
And now in England just as gay
As in the battle brave,
Goes to the rout, the ball, the play,
With one leg in the grave.
Fortune in vain has showed her spite,
For he will soon be found,
Should England's sons engage in fight,
Resolved to stand his ground.
But Fortune's pardon I must beg;
She meant not to disarm:
And when she lopped the hero's leg,
She did not seek his h-arm.
And but indulged a harmless whim,
Since he could _walk_ with one:
She saw two legs were lost on him,
Who never meant to run.
When the Marquis of Anglesey was, for the second time, Lord Lieutenant
of Ireland, he became very unpopular through an unguarded speech; and
Mr. O'Connell, in one of his flowery addresses, quoted the lines:--
God takes the good, too good on earth to stay;
And leaves the bad, too bad to take away.
The great orator continued:--
This couplet's truth in Paget's case we find;
God took his leg, and left himself behind.
Of a ballad sung in the streets of Dublin, the chorus ran as follows:--
He has one leg in Dublin, the other in Cork,
And you know very well what I mean, O!
It was stated that he had an artificial leg in Cork.
The Cottle Church.
"For more than twenty years," says Mr. De Morgan in his "Budget of
Paradoxes"[20] in the _Athenæum_, 1865, "printed papers have been sent
about in the name of Elizabeth Cottle. It is not so remarkable that
such papers should be concocted, as that they should circulate for such
a length of time without attracting public attention. Eighty years
ago, Mrs. Cottle might have rivalled Lieutenant Brothers or Joanna
Southcote. Long hence, when the now current volumes of our journals are
well ransacked works of reference, those who look into them will be
glad to see this feature of our time: I therefore make a few extracts,
faithfully copied as to type. The Italic is from the new Testament; the
Roman is the requisite interpretation:--
"Robert Cottle '_was numbered_ (5196) _with the transgressors_' at the
back of the Church in Norwood Cemetery, May 12, 1858--Isa. liii. 12.
The Rev. J. G. Collinson, Minister of St. James's Church, Clapham, the
then district church, before All Saints was built, read the funeral
service _over the Sepulchre wherein never before man was laid_.
"_Hewn on the stone_, 'at the mouth of the sepulchre,' is his
name--Robert Cottle, born at Bristol, June 2, 1774; died at Kirkstall
Lodge, Clapham Park, May 6, 1858. _And that day_ (May 12, 1858)
_was the preparation_ (day and year for 'the PREPARED place for
you'--Cottleites--by the widowed mother of the Father's house, at
Kirkstall Lodge--John xiv. 2, 3). _And the Sabbath_ (Christmas Day,
December 25, 1859) _drew on_ (for the resurrection of the Christian
body on 'the third [Protestant Sun]-day'--1 Cor. xv. 35). _Why seek
ye the living_ (God of the New Jerusalem--Heb. xii. 22; Rev. iii.
12) _among the dead_ (men): _he_ (the God of Jesus) _is not here_
(in the grave), _but is risen_ (in the person of the Holy Ghost,
from the supper, of 'the dead in the second death' of Paganism).
_Remember how he spake unto you_ (in the Church of the Rev. George
Clayton, April 14, 1839). _I will not drink henceforth_ (at this last
Cottle supper) _of the fruit of this_ (Trinity) _vine, until that
day_ (Christmas Day, 1859), _when I_ (Elizabeth Cottle) _drank it new
with you_ (Cottleites) _in my Father's kingdom_--John xv. _If this_
(Trinitarian) _cup may not pass away from me_ (Elizabeth Cottle,
April 14, 1839), _except I drink it_ ('new with you Cottleites, in my
Father's kingdom'), _thy will be done_--Matt. xxvi. 29, 42, 64. 'Our
Father which art (God) in heaven, _hallowed be thy name, thy_ (Cottle)
_kingdom come, thy will be done in earth, as it is_ (done) _in_ (the
new) _Heaven_ (and new earth of the new name of Cottle--Rev. xxi. 1;
iii. 12).
"... (Queen Elizabeth, from A. D. 1558 to 1566). _And this_ WORD _yet
once more_ (by a second Elizabeth)--the WORD of his oath, _signifieth_
(at John Scott's baptism of the Holy Ghost) _the removing of those
things_ (those Gods and those doctrines) _that are made_ (according
the Creeds and Commandments of men) _that those things_ (in the moral
law of God) _which cannot be shaken_ (as a rule of faith and practice)
_may remain; wherefore we receiving_ (from Elizabeth) _a kingdom_ (of
God) _which cannot be moved_ (by Satan) _let us have grace_ (in his
grace of Canterbury) _whereby we may serve God acceptably_ (with the
acceptable sacrifice of Elizabeth's body and blood of the communion of
the Holy Ghost) _with reverence_ (for truth) _and godly fear_ (of the
unpardonable sin of blasphemy against the Holy Ghost), _for our God_
(the Holy Ghost) _is a consuming fire_ (to the nation that will not
serve him in the Cottle Church). We cannot defend ourselves against
the Almighty, and if He is our defence, no nation can invade us.
"In verse 4 the Church of St. Peter is _in prison between four
quaternions of Soldiers_--the Holy Alliance of 1815. Rev. vii. 1.
Elizabeth, _the Angel of the Lord_ Jesus _appears_ to the Jewish and
Christian body with _the vision_ of prophecy to the Rev. Geo. Clayton
and his clerical brethren, April 8th, 1839. _Rhoda_ was the name of
her maid at Putney Terrace who used _to open the door to her Peter_,
the Rev. Robert Ashton, the Pastor of 'the little flock' 'of 120 names
together, assembled in an upper (school) room' at Putney Chapel, to
which little flock she gave the revelation (Acts i. 13, 15) _of Jesus
the same_ King of the Jews _yesterday_ at the prayer meeting, December
31, 1841, _and to-day_, January 1, 1842, _and for ever_. See book of
Life, page 24. Matt. xviii. 19; xxi. 13-16. In verse 6 the Italian
body of St. Peter _is sleeping_ 'in the second death' _between the
two_ Imperial _soldiers_ of France and Austria. The Emperor of France
from January 1 to July 11, 1859, causes the Italian _chains of St.
Peter to fall off from his_ Imperial _hands_.
"_I say unto thee_, Robert Ashton, _thou art Peter_, a stone, _and
upon this rock_, of truth, _will I_ Elizabeth, the Angel of Jesus,
_build my_ Cottle _Church, and the gates of hell_, the doors of St.
Peter at Rome, shall not prevail against it--Matt. xvi. 18; Rev. iii.
7-12."
[20] We hope to see these interesting accounts of real "curiosities of
literature" reprinted in a separate volume.
"This will be enough for the purpose. When anyone who pleases can
circulate new revelations of this kind, uninterrupted and unattended
to, new revelations will cease to be a good investment of eccentricity.
I take it for granted that the gentlemen whose names are mentioned have
nothing to do with the circulars or their doctrines. Any lady who may
happen to be entrusted with a revelation may nominate her own pastor,
or any other clergyman, one of her apostles; and it is difficult to say
to what court the nominees can appeal to get the commission abrogated.
"March 16, 1865. During the last two years the circulars have
continued. It is hinted that funds are low; and two gentlemen, who are
represented as gone 'to Bethelem asylum in despair,' say that Mrs.
Cottle will 'spend all that she hath, while Her Majesty's ministers are
flourishing on the wages of sin.' The following is perhaps one of the
most remarkable passages in the whole:--
"_Extol and magnify Him_ (Jehovah, the everlasting God, see the
Magnificat and Luke i. 45, 46-68-73-79), _that rideth_ (by rail
and steam over land and sea, from his holy habitation at Kirkstall
Lodge, Psa. lxxvii. 19, 20), _upon the_ (Cottle) _heavens as it were_
(September 9, 1864, see pages 21, 170), _upon an_ (exercising, Psa.
cxxxi. 1), _horse_-(chair, bought of Mr. John Ward, Leicester Square)."
Horace Walpole's Chattels saved by a Talisman.