Hence the will should be found to have been neglected. it was that his lawyer was hurriedly summoned from Warwick, that it was not considered advisable to wait for the preparation of a regular transcript, and that the papers were signed after a few more alterations had been hastily effected. An unusual number of witnesses were called in to secure the validity of the informally written document, its draftsman, according to the almost invariable custom at that time, being the first to sign. The corrected draft of the will was so hastily revised at Shakespeare's bedside, that even the alteration of the day of the month was overlooked. It is probable that the melancholy gathering at New Place happened somewhat later than March 25, the fourth week after a serious attack of fever being generally the most fatal period. We may at all events safely assume that, if death resulted from such a cause on April 23, the seizure could not have occurred much before the end of the preceding month. It is satisfactory to know that the invalid's mind was as yet unclouded, several of the interlineations that were added on the occasion having obviously emanated from himself. And it is not necessary to follow the general opinion that the signatures betray the tremulous hand of illness, although portions of them may indicate that they were written from an inconvenient position. It may be observed that the words, by me, which, the autographs excepted, are the only ones in the poet's handwriting known to exist, appear to have been penned with ordinary firmness. The first interlineation, that which refers to Judith, was apparently the result of her marriage, an event considered as a probability on January 25, and shortly afterwards, that is to say in less than three weeks, definitely arranged. That the poet, as is so often assumed, was ignorant, in January, of an attachment which resulted in a marriage in February, is altogether incredible. It is especially so when it is recollected that the Quiney and Shakespeare families were at least on visiting terms, and all residing in a small country town, where the rudiment of every love-affair must have been immediately enrolled among the desirable ingredients of the gossips' caldron. But there is evidence in the will itself that Shakespeare not only contemplated Judith's marriage, but was extremely anxious for her husband to settle on her an estate in land equivalent in value to the bequest of £150. He makes the failure of that settlement an absolute bar to the husband's life or other personal interest in the money, rigidly securing the integrity of the capital against the possibility of the condition being evaded so long as Judith or any of her issue were living. The singular limitation of the three years from the date of the will, not from that of the testator's decease, may perhaps be explained by the possibility of Thomas Quiney having a landed reversion accruing to him at the end of that period, such as a bequest contingent on his reaching the age of thirty. However that may be, it seems certain that the interlineated words, in discharge of her marriage porcion, must have reference to an engagement on the part of Shakespeare, one entered into after the will was first drawn up and before that paragraph was inserted, to give Judith the sum of £100 on the occasion of her marriage with Thomas Quiney. That event took place in their native town on Saturday, February 10, 1616. There was some reason for accelerating the nuptials, for they were married without a license, an irregularity for which, a few weeks afterwards, they were fined and threatened with excommunication by the ecclesiastical court at Worcester. No evidence, however, has been discovered to warrant the frequent suggestion that the poet disapproved of the alliance. So far as is known, there was nothing in the bridegroom's position or then character to authorize a parent's opposition, nor have good reasons been adduced for the suspicion that there was ever any unpleasantness between the married Quineys and their Shakespeare connections. Their first-born son was christened after the great dramatist, and they remained on good terms with the Halls. Judith, the first and one of the most prominent legatees named in the will, was a tenant-for-life in remainder under the provisions of that document, so there is not the least reason for suspecting that the partiality therein exhibited to the testator's eldest daughter was otherwise than one elicited by aristocratic tendencies. It is not likely that it was viewed in any other light by the younger sister, who received what were for those days exceedingly liberal pecuniary legacies, while the special gift to her of "my broad silver gilt bole" is an unmistakable testimony of affection. Shakespeare, in devising his real estates to one child, followed the example of his maternal grandfather and the general custom of landed proprietors. He evidently desired that their undivided ownership should continue in the family, but that he had no other motive may be inferred from the absence of conditions for the perpetuation of his own name. Following the bequests to the Quineys are those to the poet's sister Joan, then in her forty-seventh year, and five pounds a-piece to his nephews, her three children, lads of the respective ages of sixteen, eleven, and eight. To this lady, who became a widow very shortly before his own decease, he leaves, besides a contingent reversionary interest, his wearing apparel, twenty pounds in money, and a lifeinterest in the Henley Street property, the last being subject to the manorial rent of twelve-pence. This limitation of real estate to Mrs. Hart, the anxiety displayed to secure the integrity of the little Rowington copyhold, and the subsequent devises to his eldest daughter, exhibit very clearly his determination to place under legal settlement every foot of land that he possessed. With this object in view, he settles his estates in tail male, with the usual remainders over, all of which, however, so far as the predominant intention was concerned, turned out to be merely exponents of the vanity of human wishes. Before half a century had elapsed, all possibility of the continuance of the family entail had been dispelled. The most celebrated interlineation is that in which Shakespeare leaves his widow his "second-best bed with the furniture," the first-best being that generally reserved for visitors, and one which may possibly have descended as a family heir-loom, becoming in that way the undevisable property of his eldest daughter. Bedsteads were sometimes of elaborate workmanship, and gifts of them are often to be met with in ancient wills. The notion of indifference to his wife, so frequently deduced from the abovementioned entry, cannot be sustained on that account. So far from being considered of trifling import, beds were even sometimes selected as portions of compensation for dower; and bequests of personal articles of the most insignificant description were never formerly held in any light but that of marks of affection. Among the smaller legacies of former days may be enumerated kettles, chairs, gowns, hats, pewter cups, feather bolsters, and cullenders. In the year 1642 one John Shakespeare of Budbrook, near Warwick, considered it a sufficient mark of respect to his father-in-law to leave him "his best boots." The expression "second-best" has, however, been so repeatedly and so seriously canvassed to the testator's prejudice, it is important to produce evidence of its strictly inoffensive character. Such evidence is to be found in instances of its testamentary use in cases where an approach to a disparaging significance could not have been entertained. Thus the younger Sir Thomas Lucy of Charlecote, in a will made in the year 1600, bequeathed to his son Richard "my second-best horse and furnyture"; and among the legacies given by Bartholomew Hathaway to his son Edmund, in 1621, is "my second brass pott." But there is another example that is conclusive in itself, without other testimony, of the position which is here advocated. It is in the will, dated in April, 1610, of one John Harris, a well-to-do notary of Lincoln, who, while leaving his wife a freehold estate and other property, also bequeaths to her "the standing bedstead in the litle chaumber, with the second-best featherbed I have, with a whole furniture therto belonging, and allso a trundle-bedsted with a featherbed, and the furniture therto belonging, and six payer of sheetes, three payer of the better sorte and three payer of the meaner sorte." This extremely interesting parallel disposes of the most plausible reason that has ever been given for the notion that there was at one time some kind of estrangement between Shakespeare and his Anne. Let us be permitted to add that the opportunity which has thus presented itself of refuting such aspersion is more than satisfactory, it is a consolation; for there are few surer tests of the want either of a man's real amiability or - |