“I HEREBY LEAVE”

Otago Witness, Issue 3861, 13 March 1928, Page 77

“I HEREBY LEAVE”

In that delightful play of Eden Phillpotts Land, “ Yellow Sands,” one of the most amusing scenes is the reading of a will, and in it “ Richard Varwell,” the diverting wastrel-philosopher, delivers the following aphorism: “ A will’s like a budget —you can’t please everybody, and only a fool tries to.” It is an entertaining generality that will, of course, scarcely bear analysis, but, even so, wills are frequently the result or the cause, of bitter domestic strife.

* * * Nothing is more fruitful of family dissension than a will. Even th e stoutest bonds of friendship seem unable to support the strain of a disappointing division of property. On the other hand, testators sometimes forget that by imposing stringent conditions in their wills they are making their family quarrels public property. How often is a bequest made conditional on the recipient either embracing or abhorring a certain religion ? Another very common provision is that if a daughter enters a convent all gifts to her shall lapse. One can imagine th e rancour that must have occasioned such a clause.

A condition in general restraint of marriage is void at lav,’. Thus, a father may not impose a condition on a daughter that she shall never marry. But he can exercise a partial restraint. As Portia says: “So is the will of a living daughter curbed by the will of a dead father.” It is permissible and quite usual for a husband to giv e the income of property to his widow, and to stipulate that it shall cease if she remarries.

One of the most interesting wills on record is that of poor Thomas Chatterton, tb e poetic genius who poisoned himself at the age of 18. Part of it runs: “ I leave also my religion to Dr Cutts Barton, Dean of Bristol, hereby empowering the Sub Sacrist to strike him on the head when he goes to sleep in church. . . . I leave my moderation to the politicians. . . I leave the young ladies all the letters they have had from me, assuring them that they need be under no apprehension from the appearance of my ghost, for I die for none of them. . . . Executed in the presence of Omniscienc e this 14th day of April, 1770.”

Four days previously Alexander Cruden, the compiler of that volume so dear to the hearts of writers and clergymen, Cruden’s “ Concordance to the Holy Scriptures,” had put his hand to a will in which he said: “ I acknowledge that I am a miserable sinner by nature and life, being descended from the first Adam, who by his fall in sinning against God hath involved himself and his posterity in sin and misery.” In those days wills were very human documents. The great lexicographer had an unusual horror of death, but at the time he made his will (fiv e days before his death) he seems to have overcome it. In his will he says: “I, Samuel Johnson, being in full possession of my faculties, but fearing this night may put an end to my life, do ordain this my last will and testament. I bequeath to God a soul polluted with many sins, but I hope purified by repentance and I trust redeemed by Jesus Christ.” It is altogether a beautiful document. Boswell received nothing under the will, and the residue of the estate went to Francis Barber, Johnson’s negro servant.

Authors have not been slow to appreciate the uses of a will as the pivot of a plot. Readers of the romances of Sir Rider Haggard may remember that “ Mr Mecson’s Will ” was tattooed on the heroine’s back—and Sir P.ide.r wrote not without considerable experience .of the law.

Wills do not, as a rule, make cheerful reading, but if rumour be true a certain author who recently executed his will has done his utmost to reverse the usual order of things. He leaves 30 of his friends money with which to enjoy themselves for a fortnight on the Continent after the funeral. A commendable innovation !

Most proved wills are stored at Somerset House, and can be inspected on payment of a fee, though some of the exceptionally precious ones, such as Shakespeare’s, have been moved for safety to the Record Office. Among the interesting wills available are those of Van Dyck, Nelson, Izaak Walton, Inigo Jones, Edmund Burke, Bitt, and Wellington. Many wills, even those of obscure nonentities, are of considerable historical importance.- as John Stow showed by his many references to them in his “ Survey of London.” Shakespeare’s views on wills may be judged from the words which the melancholy Jaques in “ As You Like It ” is supposed to have addressed to a “ poor sequester’d stag.” “Poor deer,” quoth he, “ thou makest a statement, as worldlings do, giving thy sum of more to that which had too much.” * * * As all the world loves a record, it may not be out of place to mention that the longest will was that of Mrs Frederica Cook, proved a year or two ago. It contained 95.940 words, the length of a long novel. The shortest will said : “ All to mother.” Many- people take the opportunity when making jtheir wills to place on record various opinions they have held. Thev may deal with religion or politics, this " -ism ” or that “ -ology.” One man, -with whom protectionists may or may not sympathise, made a forcible protest in his will against the importation of German horse-radish and Spanish onions. By a tag to these somewhat lugubrious notes it is proposed to quote what was probably one °f the most successful of recent musical comedy jokes.

It was the • line, “ Where there's a will, there’s—relations.” It is not unhappily expressed.—John o’ London’s Weekly.