_Holmes_, &c., had a _merry meeting_, as Mr. _Cole_ expresses himself,
at Fountain’s house; the conversation there turned upon _Milton’s_
coffin having been discovered; and, in the course of the evening,
several of those present expressing a desire to see it, Mr. _Cole_
assented that, if the ground was not already closed, the closing of it
should be deferred until they should have satisfied their curiosity.
Between eight and nine on Wednesday morning, the 4th, the two overseers
(_Laming_ and _Fountain_) and Mr. _Taylor_, went to the house of
_Ascough_, the clerk, which leads into the church-yard, and asked for
_Holmes_; they then went with _Holmes_ into the church, and pulled the
coffin, which lay deep in the ground, from its original station to the
edge of the excavation, into day-light. Mr. _Laming_ told me that, to
assist in thus removing it, he put his hand into a corroded hole, which
he saw in the lead, at the coffin foot. When they had thus removed it,
the overseers asked _Holmes_ if he could open it, that they might see
the body. _Holmes_ immediately fetched a mallet and a chisel, and cut
open the top of the coffin, slantwise from the head, as low as the
breast; so that the top, being doubled backward, they could see the
corpse; he cut it open also at the foot. Upon first view of the body,
it appeared perfect, and completely enveloped in the shroud, which was
of many folds; the ribs standing up regularly. When they disturbed
the shroud, the ribs fell. Mr. _Fountain_ told me that he pulled hard
at the teeth, which resisted, until some one hit them a knock with a
stone, when they easily came out. There were but five in the upper
jaw, which were all perfectly sound and white, and all taken by Mr.
_Fountain_; he gave one of them to Mr. _Laming_; Mr. _Laming_ also took
one from the lower jaw; and Mr. _Taylor_ took two from it. Mr. _Laming_
told me that he had, at one time, a mind to bring away the whole
under-jaw, with the teeth in it; he had it in his hand, but tossed it
back again. Also that he lifted up the head, and saw a great quantity
of hair, which lay straight and even behind the head, and in the state
of hair which had been combed and tied together before interment; but
it was wet, the coffin having considerable corroded holes, both at
the head and foot, and a great part of the water with which it had
been washed on the Tuesday afternoon having run into it. The overseers
and Mr. _Taylor_ went away soon afterwards, and Messrs. _Laming_ and
_Taylor_ went home to get scissors to cut off some of the hair: they
returned about ten, when Mr. _Laming_ poked his stick against the head,
and brought some of the hair over the forehead; but, as they saw the
scissors were not necessary, Mr. _Taylor_ took up the hair, as it lay
on the forehead, and carried it home. The water, which had got into
the coffin on the Tuesday afternoon, had made a sludge at the bottom
of it, emitting a nauseous smell, and which occasioned Mr. _Laming_ to
use his stick to procure the hair, and not to lift up the head a second
time. Mr. _Laming_ also took out one of the leg-bones, but threw it in
again. _Holmes_ went out of church, whilst Messrs. _Laming_, _Taylor_,
and _Fountain_ were there the first time, and he returned when the two
former were come the second time. When Messrs. _Laming_ and _Taylor_
had finally quitted the church, the coffin was removed from the edge
of the excavation back to its original station; but was no otherwise
closed than by the lid, where it had been cut and reversed, being bent
down again. Mr. _Ascough_, the clerk, was from home the greater part of
that day, and Mrs. _Hoppey_, the sexton, was from home the whole day.
Elizabeth _Grant_, the grave-digger, who is servant to Mrs. _Hoppey_,
therefore now took possession of the coffin; and, as its situation
under the common-councilmen’s pew would not admit of its being seen
without the help of a candle, she kept a tinder-box in the excavation,
and, when any persons came, struck a light, and conducted them under
the pew, where, by reversing the part of the lid which had been cut,
she exhibited the body, at first for sixpence, and afterwards for
threepence and twopence each person. The workers in the church kept the
doors locked to all those who would not pay the price of a pot of beer
for entrance, and many, to avoid that payment, got in at a window at
the west end of the church, near to Mr. _Ascough’s_ counting-house.
I went on Saturday, the 7th, to Mr. _Laming’s_ house, to request a
lock of the hair; but, not meeting with Mr. _Taylor_ at home, went
again on Monday, the 9th, when Mr. _Taylor_ gave me part of what hair
he had reserved for himself. _Hawkesworth_ having informed me, on the
Saturday, that Mr. _Ellis_, the player, had taken some hair, and that
he had seen him take a rib-bone, and carry it away in paper under his
coat, I went from Mr. _Laming’s_ on Monday to Mr. _Ellis_, who told me
that he had paid 6^d. to Elizabeth _Grant_ for seeing the body; and
that he had lifted up the head, and taken from the sludge under it a
small quantity of hair, with which was a piece of the shroud, and,
adhering to the hair, a bit of the skin of the skull, of about the size
of a shilling. He then put them all into my hands, with the rib-bone,
which appeared to be one of the upper ribs. The piece of the shroud was
of coarse linen. The hair which he had taken was short; a small part of
it he had washed, and the remainder was in the clotted state in which
he had taken it. He told me that he had tried to reach down as low as
the hands of the corpse, but had not been able to effect it. The washed
hair corresponded exactly with that in my possession, and which I had
just received from Mr. _Taylor_. _Ellis_ is a very ingenious worker
in hair, and he said that, thinking it would be of great advantage to
him to possess a quantity of Milton’s hair, he had returned to the
church on Thursday, and had made his endeavours to get access a second
time to the body; but had been refused admittance. _Hawkesworth_ took
a tooth, and broke a bit off the coffin; of which I was informed by
Mr. _Ascough_. I purchased them both of _Hawkesworth_, on Saturday the
7th, for 2^s.; and he told me that, when he took the tooth out, there
were but two more remaining; one of which was afterwards taken by
another of Mr. _Ascough’s_ men. And _Ellis_ informed me that, at the
time when he was there, on Wednesday, the teeth were all gone; but the
overseers say they think that all the teeth were not taken out of the
coffin, though displaced from the jaws, but that some of them must have
fallen among the other bones, as they very readily came out, after the
first were drawn. _Haslib_, son of William _Haslib_, of Jewin Street,
undertaker, took one of the small bones, which I purchased of him, on
Monday, the 9th, for 2^s.
With respect to the identity of the person; anyone must be a skeptic
against violent presumptions to entertain a doubt of its being that
of _Milton_. The parish traditions of the spot; the age of the
coffin--none other found in the ground which can at all contest with
it, or render it suspicious--_Poole’s_ tradition that those who had
conversed with his father about _Milton’s_ person always described
him to have been thin, with long hair; the entry in the register-book
that _Milton_ died of consumption, are all strong confirmations,
with the size of the coffin, of the identity of the person. If it be
objected that, against the pillar where the pulpit formerly stood, and
immediately over the common-councilmen’s pew, is a monument to the
family of _Smith_, which shows that ‘near that place’ were buried, in
1653, _Richard Smith_, aged 17; in 1655, _John Smith_, aged 32; and in
1664, _Elizabeth Smith_, the mother, aged 64; and in 1675, _Richard
Smith_, the father, aged 85; it may be answered that, if the coffin
in question be one of these, the others should be there also. The
corpse is certainly not that of a man of 85; and, if it be supposed
one of the first named males of the _Smith_ family, certainly the
two later coffins should appear; but none such were found, nor could
that monument have been erected until many years after the death of
the last person mentioned in the inscription; and it was then placed
there, as it expresses, not by any of the family, but at the expense of
friends. The flatness of the pillar, after the pulpit had been removed,
offered an advantageous situation for it; and ‘_near this place_,’
upon a mural monument, will always admit of a liberal construction.
_Holmes_, who is much respected in that parish, and very ingenious and
intelligent in his business, says that a leaden coffin, when the inner
wooden-case is perished, must, from pressure and its own weight, shrink
in breadth, and that, therefore, more than the present admeasurement of
this coffin across the shoulders must have been its original breadth.
There is evidence, also, that it was incurvated, both on the top and
at the sides, at the time when it was discovered. But the strongest of
all confirmations is the hair, both in its length and colour. Behold
_Faithorne’s_ quarto-print of _Milton_ taken _ad vivum_ in 1760, five
years before _Milton’s_ death. Observe the short locks growing towards
the forehead, and the long ones flowing from the same place down the
sides of the face. The whole quantity of hair which Mr. _Taylor_ took
was from the forehead, and all taken at one grasp. I measured on Monday
morning, the 9th, that lock of it which he had given to Mr. _Laming_,
six inches and a half by a rule; and the lock of it which he gave to
me, taken at the same time, and from the same place, measures only
two inches and a half. In the reign of _Charles_ II. how few, besides
_Milton_, wore their own hair! _Wood_ says _Milton_ had light-brown
hair, the very description of that which we possess; and, what may
seem extraordinary, it is yet so strong that Mr. _Laming_, to cleanse
it from its clotted state, let the cistern-cock run on it for near a
minute, and then rubbed it between his fingers without injury.
_Milton’s_ coffin lay open from Wednesday morning, the 4th, at 9
o’clock until 4 o’clock in the afternoon of the following day, when the
ground was closed.
With respect to there being no inscriptions on the coffin, _Holmes_
says that inscription-plates were not used, nor invented at the time
when _Milton_ was buried; that the practice then was to paint the
inscription on the outside wooden coffin, which in this case was
entirely perished.
It has never been pretended that any hair was taken except by Mr.
_Taylor_, and by _Ellis_ the player; and all which the latter took
would, when cleansed, easily lie in a small locket. Mr. _Taylor_
has divided his share into many small parcels; and the lock which I
saw in Mr. _Laming’s_ hands on Saturday morning, the 7th, and which
then measured six inches and a half, had been so cut and reduced by
divisions among Mr. _Laming’s_ friends, at noon, on Monday, the 9th,
that he thus possessed only a small bit, from two to three inches in
length.
All the teeth are remarkably short, below the gums. The five which
were in the upper jaw, and the middle teeth of the lower, are perfect
and white. Mr. _Fountain_ took the five upper jaw teeth; Mr. _Laming_
one from the lower jaw; Mr. _Taylor_ two from it; _Hawkesworth_ one;
and another of Mr. _Ascough’s_ men one; besides these, I have not been
able to trace any, nor have I heard that any more were taken. It is
not probable that more than ten should have been brought away, if the
conjecture of the overseers, that some dropped among the other bones,
be founded.
* * * * *
In recording a transaction which will strike every liberal mind with
horror and disgust, I cannot omit to declare that I have procured
those relics which I possess, only in hope of bearing part in a pious
and honourable restitution of all that has been taken; the sole
atonement which can now be made to the violated rights of the dead; to
the insulted parishioners at large; and to the feelings of all good
men. During the present repair of the church, the mode is obvious and
easy. Unless that be done, in vain will the parish hereafter boast a
sumptuous monument to the memory of _Milton_; it will but display their
shame in proportion to its magnificence.
I collected this account from the mouths of those who were immediate
actors in this most sacrilegious scene; and before the voice of charity
had reproached them with their impiety. By it those are exculpated
whose just and liberal sentiments restrained their hands from an act of
violation, and the blood of the lamb is dashed against the door-posts
of the perpetrators, not to save, but to mark them to posterity.
PHILIP NEVE.
Furnival’s Inn,
14th of August, 1790.
This Mr. Neve, whose pious horror at the sacrilegious desecration of
the poet’s tomb seems only to have been awakened at the eleventh hour,
and whose restitution of the relics he obtained does not appear, was
probably the P.N. who was the author, in 1789, of ‘Cursory Remarks
on some of the Ancient English Poets, particularly Milton.’ It is a
work of some erudition, but the hero of the book, as its title plainly
shows, was Milton. Neve places him in the first rank, and can hardly
find words with which to extol his genius and intellect, so that,
probably, some hero-worship was interwoven in the foregoing relation
of the discovery of Milton’s body; and it may be as well if the other
side were heard, although the attempt at refutation is by no means as
well authenticated as Neve’s narrative. It is anonymous, and appeared
in the _St. James’s Chronicle_, September 4-7th, 1790, and in the
_European Magazine_, vol. xviii, pp. 206-7, for September, 1790, and is
as follows:
MILTON.
_Reasons why it is impossible that the Coffin lately dug up in
the Parish Church of St. Giles, Cripplegate, should contain the
reliques of_ MILTON.
_First._ BECAUSE _Milton_ was buried in 1674, and this coffin was found
in a situation previously allotted to a wealthy family, unconnected
with his own.--See the mural monument of the _Smiths_, dated 1653, &c.,
immediately over the place of the supposed MILTON’S interment.--In
the time that the fragments of several other sarcophagi were found;
together with two skulls, many bones, and a leaden coffin, which was
left untouched because it lay further to the north, and (for some
reason, or no reason at all) was unsuspected of being the _Miltonic_
reservoir.
_Secondly._ The hair of MILTON is uniformly described and represented
as of a light hue; but far the greater part of the ornament of his
pretended skull is of the darkest brown, without any mixture of
gray.[18] This difference is irreconcilable to probability. Our hair,
after childhood, is rarely found to undergo a total change of colour,
and MILTON was 66 years old when he died, a period at which human
locks, in a greater or less degree, are interspersed with white. Why
did the Overseers, &c., bring away only such hair as corresponded with
the description of _Milton’s_? Of the light hair there was little; of
the dark a considerable quantity. But this circumstance would have been
wholly suppressed, had not a second scrutiny taken place.
_Thirdly._ Because the skull in question is remarkably flat and small,
and with the lowest of all possible foreheads; whereas the head of
MILTON was large, and his brow conspicuously high. See his portrait so
often engraved by the accurate _Vertue_, who was completely satisfied
with the authenticity of his original. We are assured that the surgeon
who attended at the second disinterment of the corpse only remarked,
‘that the little forehead there was, was prominent.’
_Fourthly._ Because the hands of MILTON were full of chalk stones.
Now it chances that his substitute’s left hand had been undisturbed,
and therefore was in a condition to be properly examined. No vestige,
however, of cretaceous substances was visible in it, although they
are of a lasting nature, and have been found on the fingers of a dead
person almost coeval with MILTON.
_Fifthly._ Because there is reason to believe that the aforesaid
remains are those of a young female (one of the three Miss _Smiths_);
for the bones are delicate, the teeth small, slightly inserted in the
jaw, and perfectly white, even, and sound. From the corroded state
of the pelvis, nothing could, with certainty, be inferred; nor would
the surgeon already mentioned pronounce _absolutely_ on the sex of the
deceased. Admitting, however, that the body was a male one, its very
situation points it out to be a male of the _Smith_ family; perhaps
the favourite son _John_, whom _Richard Smith_, Esq., his father, so
feelingly laments. (See Peck’s ‘_Desiderata Curiosa_,’ p. 536).[19]
To this darling child a receptacle of lead might have been allotted,
though many other relatives of the same house were left to putrefy in
wood.
_Sixthly._ Because MILTON was not in affluence[20]--expired in an
emaciated state, in a cold month, and was interred by direction of his
widow. An expensive outward coffin of lead, therefore, was needless,
and unlikely to have been provided by a rapacious woman who oppressed
her husband’s children while he was living, and cheated them after he
was dead.
_Seventhly._ Because it is improbable that the circumstance of MILTON’S
having been deposited under the desk should, if true, have been so
effectually concealed from the whole train of his biographers. It was,
nevertheless, produced as an ancient and well-known tradition, as soon
as the parishioners of Cripplegate were aware that such an incident
was gaped for by antiquarian appetence, and would be swallowed by
antiquarian credulity. How happened it that Bishop _Newton_, who urged
similar inquiries concerning MILTON above forty years ago in the same
parish, could obtain no such information?[21]
_Eighthly._ Because Mr. _Laming_ (see Mr. _Neve’s_ pamphlet, second
edition, p. 19) observes that the ‘sludge’ at the bottom of the coffin
‘emitted a nauseous smell.’ But, had this corpse been as old as that
of MILTON, it must have been disarmed of its power to offend, nor
would have supplied the least effluvium to disgust the nostrils of
our delicate inquirer into the secrets of the grave. The last remark
will seem to militate against a foregoing one. The whole difficulty,
however, may be solved by a resolution not to believe a single word
said on such an occasion by any of those who invaded the presumptive
sepulchre of MILTON. The man who can handle pawned stays, breeches,
and petticoats without disgust may be supposed to have his organs of
smelling in no very high state of perfection.
_Ninthly._ Because we have not been told by _Wood_, _Philips_,
_Richardson_, _Toland_, etc., that Nature, among her other partialities
to MILTON, had indulged him with an uncommon share of teeth. And yet
above a hundred have been sold as the furniture of his mouth by the
conscientious worthies who assisted in the plunder of his supposed
carcase, and finally submitted it to every insult that brutal vulgarity
could devise and express. Thanks to fortune, however, his corpse
has hitherto been violated but by proxy! May his genuine reliques
(if aught of him remains unmingled with common earth) continue to
elude research, at least while the present overseers of the poor of
Cripplegate are in office. Hard, indeed, would have been the fate of
the author of ‘Paradise Lost’ to have received shelter in a chancel,
that a hundred and sixteen years after his interment his _domus ultima_
might be ransacked by two of the lowest human beings, a retailer of
spirituous liquors, and a man who lends sixpences to beggars on such
despicable securities as tattered bed-gowns, cankered porridge-pots,
and rusty gridirons.[22] _Cape saxa manu, cape robora, pastor!_ But an
Ecclesiastical Court may yet have cognisance of this more than savage
transaction. It will then be determined whether our tombs are our own,
or may be robbed with impunity by the little tyrants of a workhouse.
‘If charnel-houses, and our graves, must send
Those that we bury back, our monuments
Shall be the maws of kites.’
It should be added that our Pawnbroker, Gin-seller, and Company, by
deranging the contents of their ideal MILTON’S coffin, by carrying away
his lower jaw, ribs, and right hand--and by employing one bone as an
instrument to batter the rest--by tearing the shroud and winding-sheet
to pieces, &c., &c., had annihilated all such further evidence as might
have been collected from a skilful and complete examination of these
nameless fragments of mortality. So far, indeed, were they mutilated
that, had they been genuine, we could not have said with Horace,
‘Invenies etiam disjecti membra Poetæ.’
Who, after a perusal of the foregoing remarks (which are founded on
circumstantial truth), will congratulate the parishioners of St. Giles,
Cripplegate, on their discovery and treatment of the imaginary dust
of MILTON? His favourite, _Shakespeare_, most fortunately reposes at
a secure distance from the paws of Messieurs _Laming_ and _Fountain_,
who, otherwise, might have provoked the vengeance imprecated by our
great dramatic poet on the remover of his bones.
From the preceding censures, however, Mr. _Cole_ (Churchwarden), and
Messrs. _Strong_ and _Ascough_ (Vestry and Parish Clerks), should,
in the most distinguished manner, be exempted. Throughout the whole
of this extraordinary business, they conducted themselves with the
strictest decency and propriety. It should also be confessed, by those
whom curiosity has since attracted to the place of MILTON’S supposed
disinterment, that the politeness of the same parish officers could
only be exceeded by their respect for our illustrious author’s memory,
and their concern at the complicated indignity which his nominal ashes
have sustained.’
Now it was hardly likely that Mr. Neve, with the extremely plausible
case that he had, would sit still and see his pet theory knocked on the
head, so he issued a second edition of his pamphlet with this
POSTSCRIPT.
As some reports have been circulated, and some anonymous papers have
appeared, since the publication of this pamphlet, with intent to induce
a belief that the corpse mentioned in it is that of a woman, and as
the curiosity of the public now calls for a second impression of it,
an opportunity is offered of relating a few circumstances which have
happened since the 14th of August, and which, in some degree, may
confirm the opinion that the corpse is that of _Milton_.
On Monday, the 16th, I called upon the overseer, Mr. _Fountain_, when
he told me that the parish officers had then seen a surgeon who, on
Wednesday the 4th, had got through a window into the church, and who
had, upon inspection, pronounced the corpse to be that of a woman.
I thought it very improbable that a surgeon should creep through a
window, who could go through a door for a few half-pence; but I no
otherwise expressed my doubts of the truth of the information than by
asking for the surgeon’s address. I was answered ‘that the gentleman
begged not to have it known, that he might not be interrupted by
enquiries.’ A trifling relic was, nevertheless, at the same time
withholden, which I had expected to receive through Mr. _Fountain’s_
hands; by which it appeared that those in possession of them were,
still tenacious of the spoils of the coffin, although they affected to
be convinced they were not those of _Milton_. These contradictions,
however, I reserved for the test of an inquiry elsewhere.
In the course of that week I was informed that some gentlemen had, on
Tuesday, the 17th, prevailed on the churchwardens to suffer a second
disinterment of the coffin, which had taken place on that day. On
Saturday, the 21st, I waited on Mr. _Strong_, who told me that he had
been present at such second disinterment, and that he had then sent
for an experienced surgeon of the neighbourhood, who, upon inspection
and examination of the corpse, had pronounced it to be that of a man.
I was also informed, on that day, the 21st, by a principal person of
the parish, whose information cannot be suspected, that the parish
officers had agreed among themselves that, from my frequent visits and
inquiries, I must have an intention of delivering some account of the
transaction to the world; and that, therefore, to stop the narrative
from going forth, they must invent some story of a surgeon’s inspection
on the 4th, and of his declaration that the corpse was that of a woman.
From this information it was easy to judge what would be the fate of
any personal application to the parish officers, with intent to obtain
a restitution of what had been taken from the coffin I, therefore, on
Wednesday, the 25th, addressed the following letter to Mr. _Strong_:--
* * * * *
‘DEAR SIR,
‘The reflection of a few moments, after I left you on Saturday,
clearly showed me that the probability of the coffin in question being
_Milton’s_ was not at all weakened, either by the dates, or the number
of persons on the _Smiths’_ monument; but that it was rather confirmed
by the latter circumstance. By the evidence which you told me was given
by the surgeon, called in on Tuesday, the 17th, the corpse is that of a
male; it is certainly not that of a man of eighty-five; if, therefore,
it be one of the earlier buried _Smiths_, all the later coffins of that
family should appear, but not one of them is found. I, then, suppose
the monument to have been put there because the flat pillar, after
the pulpit was removed, offered a convenient situation for it, and
“_near this place_” to be open, as it is in almost every case where it
appears, to very liberal interpretation.
‘It is, therefore, to be believed that the unworthy treatment, on the
4th, was offered to the corpse of _Milton_. Knowing what I know, I must
not be silent. It is a very unpleasant story to relate; but, as it has
fallen to my task, I will not shrink from it. I respect nothing in
this world more than truth, and the memory of _Milton_; and to swerve
in a tittle from the first would offend the latter. I shall give the
plain and simple narrative, as delivered by the parties themselves.
If it sit heavy on any of their shoulders, it is a burthen of their
own taking up, and their own backs must bear it. They are all, as I
find, very fond of deriving honour to themselves from _Milton_, as
their parishioner; perhaps the mode, which I have hinted, is the only
one which they have now left themselves of proving an equal desire
to do honour to him. If I had thought that, in personally proposing
to the parish officers a general search for, and collection of, all
the spoils, and to put them, together with the mangled corpse and old
coffin, into a new leaden one, I should have been attended to, I would
have taken that method; but, when I found such impertinent inventions
as setting up a fabulous surgeon to creep in at a window practised, I
felt that so low an attempt at derision would ensure that, whatever I
should afterwards propose, would be equally derided, and I had then
left no other means than to call in the public opinion in aid of my
own, and to hope that we should, at length, see the bones of an honest
man, and the first scholar and poet our country can boast, restored to
their sepulchre.
‘The narrative will appear, I believe, either to-morrow or on Friday;
whenever it does, your withers are unwrung, and Mr. _Cole_ has shown
himself an upright churchwarden.
‘I cannot conclude without returning you many thanks for your great
civilities, and am, &c.’