I
have seen, since we parted, great suffering, but nothing physical to
be compared to this, where the once fair and expressive mould of man
is thus lost in corruption before life has fled. He died yesterday
morning, and was buried in deep water, the American Consul's barge
towing out one from this ship which bore the body, about six o'clock.
It was Sunday. A divinely calm, glowing afternoon had succeeded a
morning of bleak, cold wind. You cannot think how beautiful the whole
thing was:--the decent array and sad reverence of the sailors; the
many ships with their banners flying; the stern pillar of Hercules all
bathed in roseate vapor; the little white sails diving into the blue
depths with that solemn spoil of the good man, so still, when he had
been so agonized and gasping as the last sun stooped. Yes, it was
beautiful; but how dear a price we pay for the poems of this world! We
shall now be in quarantine a week; no person permitted to come on
board until it be seen whether disease break out in other cases. I
have no good reason to think it will _not_; yet I do not feel
afraid. Ossoli has had it; so he is safe. The baby is, of course,
subject to injury. In the earlier days, before I suspected small-pox,
I carried him twice into the sick-room, at the request of the captain,
who was becoming fond of him.
Pages:
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447