“I give and bequeath the annual sum of ten pounds, to be paid in perpetuity out of my estate, to the following purpose. It is my will and pleasure that this sum shall be spent in the purchase of a certain quantity of the liquor vulgarly called whisky, and it shall be publicly given out that a certain number of persons, Irish only, not to exceed twenty, who may choose to assemble in the cemetery in which I shall be interred, on the anniversary of my death, shall have the same distributed to them. Further, it is my desire that each shall receive it by half-a-pint at a time till the whole is consumed, each being likewise provided with a stout oaken stick and a knife, and that they shall drink it all on the spot. Knowing what I know of the Irish character, my conviction is, that with these materials given, they will not fail to destroy each other, and when in the course of time the race comes to be exterminated, this neighbourhood at least may, perhaps, be colonized by civilized and respectable Englishmen.”
A very curious will was that of a Polish landlord, M. Zalesky, who died in 1889, leaving property valued at one hundred thousand roubles. His will was enclosed in an envelope bearing the words: “To be opened after my death.” Inside there was another envelope, “To be opened six weeks after my death.” When this time had passed, the second envelope was opened, and a third uncovered, “To be opened one year after my death.” At the end of the year, a fourth envelope was discovered, to be opened two years after the testator’s death; and so the game went on until 1894, when the actual will was discovered and read. The contents of this will were quite as eccentric as the directions attached to its opening. The testator bequeathed half his fortune to such of his heirs as had the largest number of children. The rest of the property was to be placed in bank, and a hundred years after his death to be divided, with the accumulated interest, among the will-maker’s descendants.
An Irishman named Dennis Tolam, who died at Cork possessed of considerable wealth, in the year 1769, left a singular will, containing the following testamentary dispositions: “I leave to my sister-in-law four old stockings, which will be found under my mattress, to the right. Item: To my nephew, Michael Tarles, two odd socks and a green nightcap. Item: To Lieutenant John Stein, a blue stocking, with my red cloak. Item: To my cousin, Barbara Dolan, an old boot, with a red flannel pocket. Item: To Hannah, my housekeeper, my broken water-jug.” After the death of the testator, the legatees having been convened by the notary to be present at the reading of the will, each, as he or she was named, shrugged their shoulders and otherwise expressed a contemptuous disappointment, while parties uninterested in the succession could not refrain from laughing at these ridiculous, not to say insulting, legacies. All were leaving the room, after signifying their intention of renouncing their bequests, when the last-named, Hannah, having testified her indignation by kicking away the broken pitcher, a number of coins rolled out of it; the other individuals, astonished at the unexpected incident, began to think better of their determination, and requested permission to examine the articles given to them. It is needless to say that, on proceeding to the search, the stockings, socks, pocket, etc., soon betrayed by their weight the value of their contents; and the hoard of the testator, thus fairly distributed, left on the minds of the legatees a very different impression of his _worth_.