Shakespeares Bones | Page 2

can be said to have any, we may
surely reckon among them the right of not being supposed to possess
such objectionable personal defects as may have been imputed to him
by the malice of critics or by the incapacity of sculptor or painter, and
which his remains may be sufficiently unchanged to rebut: in a word
we owe him something more than refraining from disturbing his
remains until they are undistinguishable from the earth in which they
lie, a debt which no supposed inviolable sanctity of the grave ought to
prevent us from paying.
It is, I say, too late to raise such an objection, because exhumation has
been performed many times with a perfectly legitimate object, even in
the case of our most illustrious dead, without protest or objection from
the most sensitive person. As the examples, more or less analogous to
that of Shakespeare, which I am about to adduce, concern great men
who were born and were buried within the limits of our island, I will
preface them by giving the very extraordinary cases of Schiller and
Raphael, which illustrate both classes: those in which the object of the
exhumation was to give the remains a more honourable sepulture, and
those in which it was purely to resolve certain questions affecting the
skull of the deceased. The following is abridged from Mr. Andrew
Hamilton's narrative, entitled "The Story of Schiller's Life," published
in Macmillan's Magazine for May, 1863.
"At the time of his death Schiller left his widow and children almost
penniless, and almost friendless too. The duke and duchess were absent;
Goethe lay ill; even Schiller's brother-in-law Wolzogen was away from
home. Frau von Wolzogen was with her sister, but seems to have been
equally ill-fitted to bear her share of the load that had fallen so heavily
upon them. Heinrich Voss was the only friend admitted to the
sick-room; and when all was over it was he who went to the joiner's,

and, knowing the need of economy, ordered 'a plain deal coffin.' It cost
ten shillings of our money.
"In the early part of 1805, one Carl Leberecht Schwabe, an enthusiastic
admirer of Schiller, left Weimar on business. Returning on Saturday the
11th of May, between three and four in the afternoon, his first errand
was to visit his betrothed, who lived in the house adjoining that of the
Schillers. She met him in the passage, and told him, Schiller was two
days dead, and that night he was to be buried. On putting further
questions, Schwabe stood aghast at what he learned. The funeral was to
be private and to take place immediately after midnight, without any
religious rite. Bearers had been hired to carry the remains to the
churchyard, and no one else was to attend.
"Schwabe felt that all this could not go on; but to prevent it was
difficult. There were but eight hours left; and the arrangements, such as
they were, had already been made. However, he went straight to the
house of death, and requested an interview with Frau von Schiller. She
replied, through the servant, 'that she was too greatly overwhelmed by
her loss to be able to see or speak to any one; as for the funeral of her
blessed husband, Mr. Schwabe must apply to the Reverend
Oberconsistorialrath Gunther, who had kindly undertaken to see done
what was necessary; whatever he might direct, she would approve of.'
With this message Schwabe hastened to Gunther, and told him, his
blood boiled at the thought that Schiller should be borne to the grave by
hirelings. At first Gunther shook his head and said, 'It was too late;
everything was arranged; the bearers were already ordered.' Schwabe
offered to become responsible for the payment of the bearers, if they
were dismissed. At length the Oberconsistorialrath inquired who the
gentlemen were who had agreed to bear the coffin. Schwabe was
obliged to acknowledge that he could not at that moment mention a
single name; but he was ready to guarantee his Hochwurde that in an
hour or two he would bring him the list. On this his Hochwurde
consented to countermand the bearers.
"Schwabe now rushed from house to house, obtaining a ready assent
from all whom he found at home. But as some were out, he sent round

a circular, begging those who would come to place a mark against their
names. He requested them to meet at his lodgings 'at half- past twelve
o'clock that night; a light would be placed in the window to guide those
who were not acquainted with the house; they would be kind enough to
be dressed in black; but mourning-hats, crapes and mantles he had
already provided.' Late in the evening he placed the list in Gunther's
hands. Several appeared to whom