Note 35 — II.—BIRTH, MARRIAGE AND DEATH.
Reading edition
We know an old lady, as blithe a body as ever lived in this world, who, years ago, prepared becoming garments ready for her last journey. David Garrick’s widow religiously preserved her wedding-sheets, that they might serve her for a shroud. In 1763 a young married lady was, at her express desire, buried in all her wedding finely, consisting of a white negligée and petticoats, quilted into a mattress, pillow, and lining for her coffin; her wedding-shift was her winding-sheet, and she wore a fine point-lace tucker, handkerchief, ruffles, and apron, and a lappethead of the same costly materials. Diamond earrings were placed in her ears, gemmed rings on her fingers, and a valuable necklace round her neck; white silk stockings, and silver-spangled shoes with stone buckles completed her costume. A Norfolk gentleman preserved such a happy recollection of matrimonial life, that when, at the age of ninety-one, he lay on his death-bed, he gave instructions that he should be buried in his wedding-shirt, which he had carefully kept for the purpose; that garment being supplemented with his best suit of clothes, his best wig, his silver-buckled shoes, black wrist ribbons, and his favorite walking-cane. Margaret Coosins, who was buried in Cuxton Churchyard, Kent, in 1683, ordered her body to be attired in scarlet satin, put in a mahogany coffin having a loose lid, and placed upon trestles in a vault under a pyramidal monument, the glass doors of the vault being covered with green silk curtains. Another example of vanity strong in death was afforded us a few years ago, when a wealthy court milliner left strict injunctions behind her that her body should be enfolded in point-lace.—Chambers’ Journal. ↑