LETTER: ALS to Mary Pickman, first cousin of Elizabeth Palmer Peabody, written on the day of Hawthorne's funeral.
Peabody on the Death of Hawthorne
and its impact on Sophia
Peabody, Elizabeth Palmer. Autograph letter signed, "Elizabeth P," to Mary Pickman Loring, May 23, 1864.
Peabody writes to her cousin on the day of Nathaniel Hawthorne’s funeral, describing Sophia Hawthorne’s state during his final days. In full:
Concord May 23rd 1864
My dear Cousin –
Yours of the 20th has just arrived. Mr Hawthorne is to be buried today at 3 o’clock from the Church of Concord – Services by James F. Clarke to whose church Sophia belongs – and who married them.
He went away after struggling all winter – and more perhaps the last few weeks with a general decay of physical power accompanied by a fearful nervous sensibility. He dreaded infirmity and disease (not death) more than any person I ever knew and thought the only way to die was to step “from life to life.” He never had been sick a day in his life before.
Dr Holmes of Boston examined him and thought he only needed change of scene and air, and he went to Philadelphia with his friend and publisher Mr. Ticknor – who died of bilious colic and pneumonia – with no nurse or watcher for three days but Mr. Hawthorne – who gave up the care by necessity to an army surgeon the last night. This all but killed him. He really thought he might die with him as for five hours the afternoon before he sat on the bed and held his hands.
It was with difficulty he got home – very changed – and passed a week or two for a new start with his friend, General Pierce. Sophia knew he was likely never to recover, and how he dreaded sickness – and she nursed him night and day and was unable to go with him and thought knew he would be relieved to have her rest. She could not go and yet did not want him to know of her physical debility – and he probably felt she did not comprehend his danger.
He died in his sleep which was for some hours previous more than usually tranquil after an evening in which he seemed no worse.
It was my painful office to take the telegram to her which told of his death. It was unexpected in its suddenness – and a terrible hour – for she was so run down and her children were afraid she would die in the first shock. I was not without my apprehensions for the first ten minutes – but then I saw she would not die as she could utter herself – though for half an hour we had to leave her. She could not bear even her children.
We then endeavored to reassure the children and tell them her faith and the disinterestedness of her love would support her. And they thought it might at last – but ‘not for a long time’ during which she might die.
But when at last she was still, Una went to her and she told her it was God and so all must be right. That he had died as he wished and had no pang of parting – and doubtless when they knew all, they would find it beautiful, for he did things well.
When the letter in the afternoon told that he had died in his sleep, she thanked God and ever since she has been full of thankfulness for his release from the illness he dreaded – the overflowing goodness of God – that he was not left to be the survivor – which she said he could not have borne – that he died before he was 60 which he had wished – and before the beauty of his mind had been touched – and before any misfortune had happened to his children.
She will be glad to see you whenever you can come I know, and will doubtless write or have Una write.
She does not know of your sorrow yet – nor of Pickman’s illness. We all feel God is good and that the two worlds are one since we only live and love in God – and she feels it most.
Your affectionate cousin – Elizabeth P.
(#4655615)
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