Bacon (Francis, Baron Verulam, Viscount St. Albans), 1561-1626. "Thy creatures, O Lord, have been my books, but Thy Holy Scriptures much more. I have sought Thee in the fields and gardens, but I have found Thee, O God, in Thy Sanctuary—Thy Temple."
"In March, 1626, he came to London, and one day near Highgate was taken with a desire to discover whether snow would act as an antiseptic. He stopped his carriage, got out at a cottage, purchased a fowl, and with his own hands assisted to stuff it with snow. He was seized with a sudden chill and became so seriously unwell that he had to be conveyed to Lord Arundel's house near by. There his illness increased, and he died of bronchitis after a few days of suffering."—Encyclopedia Britannica.
For my burial, I desire it may be in St. Michael's Church, St. Albans; there was my mother buried, and it is the parish church of my mansion-house of Gorhambury, and it is the only Christian Church within the walls of Old Verulam. For my name and memory, I leave it to men's charitable speeches, to foreign nations and the next ages.
From the Will of Lord Bacon.