| Transcript | D'urban, Natal;
2nd July 1875
George Henry Lewes, Esq.
The Priory
21 North Bank,
Regent's Park.
Sir,
I fear the latest accounts of his state of health which you may have had from your son Herbert will hardly have prepared you for the intelligence of his death which it is my sad duty to communicate. It took place on the 29th June, and to me was very unexpected, as he always represented himself as gaining in flesh and strength.
You may be aware that Thornton used to frequent my house, and naturally on Herbert's arrival brought him to us. From that time, however, excepting seeing him with Thornton at the house of the Bishop of Natal shortly after, I had seen nothing of him until quite lately. He arrived in Durban some weeks ago in the absence of Mrs. Sanderson and myself, but on our return, hearing accidently that he was in town, I sent a message to him, and from that time he paid us a long visit every two or three days, conversing, reading, getting Mrs. Sanderson to play for him on the piano, or taking an hour's nap on the couch. The last time he came to us was on Thursday, the 24th. He appeared weak and tired, and asked Mrs. Sanderson to give him a shake-down. We made him as comfortable as possible and he retired about nine o' clock. Mrs. Sanderson told him he must not get up to breakfast, but he did so, having he said slept well, - a thing he had not done for two or three nights previously. He left our house about 10 o'clock that day, Friday and we did not see him again until Monday, when we called at his quarters. He appeared much worse, very feeble, but insisted on coming out to the sitting room to see Mrs. Sanderson. He was apparently in good spirits,-but we were shocked at the change in his appearance. About seven o'clock on the following evening the people of the house sent to say it would be needful to get someone to sit with him all night, and we procured a nurse. I immediately went to him myself, a second messenger coming for me just as I was setting out. I found him breathing with great difficulty, and almost unable to articulate. He took my hand two or three times and said it was kind of me to come to see him, and after-ward addressed me by name, although I could not quite make out whether he was endeavoring to assure himself of my identity or not. In answer to my question he said he had no pain. While I was,there, Dr. Taylor who had been sent for, for the second time that day, when the attack came on in the afternoon, came in. He told me Herbert could not live many hours. On asking if he had made him aware of this, he said no; it was of no use; he was too far gone.
Excepting for a few minutes I remained till all was over. The Dr. said he would choke if laid down, and so he sat in an arm-chair, with some of his fellow lodgers or me supporting him. A mustard plaster had been applied three times in succession without effect. A dose of medicine was given him every hour. About half past nine he asked for tea, which was at once made for him and he eagerly swallowed a mouthful or two. As I sat by him, holding his hands, and supporting his head with my left, he seemed to make several attempts to speak without being able to articulate, and my endeavors to help him were of no avail. About five minutes to ten I thought he said something about bread - more probably he meant breath, but his breathing became less violent and as nearly as possible at ten o'clock, with one or two slight gasps he died, so peacefully, and without effort or struggle that I continued with his forehead resting in my hand, not sure that he might not yet revive. We at once sent for Dr. Taylor, but he did not think it needful to come; and being assured that all was over, the landlord asked me to take charge of his watch and other property and arrange for the funeral, which I did on the following morning after consulting with Mr. Brickhill, the Manager of the Bank through whom he had lately drawn upon you. I also at once wrote to Mr.. Harrison, his father-in-law, to break the news to the poor young wife, who as you are probably aware had been confined of a fine boy since Herbert left home.
I have thought it might be some satisfaction that I should tell you all I could of his last days and I enclose a note briefly describing the course of his illness since he has been in Durban, which at my request Dr. Taylor has written.
I believe he was a comfortable as it was possible for him to be in a public hotel. The people of the house were kind to him, and one or two of his fellow lodgers he was friendly with, and sat up with him, or did little offices for him. Mrs. Sanderson and I were always glad to see him and he seemed to enjoy coming to us.
Of course he had not many friends or even acquaintances here, but about a dozen followed him to the grave, which is under the shadow of the trees in the beautiful Episcopal Cemetery, the service being read by Archdeacon Lloyd.
I must now trouble you with some business matters as you will doubtless be anxious to know how these stand. Pending instructions from Mrs. Lewes or her father, I have taken possession of all Herbert' s little belongings, including a gold watch (French) a breast pin with hair encircled by an enameled serpent, and a gold stud. Of cash I found £14.1.4. In his pocket-book I find a memorandum of having drawn upon you for 50 on the--- (blank) June, the discount on which 10/- leaves £49.10.- to be accounted for.
I copy the account verbatim:-
'On the June (sic) 1875
Drawn on pater for
£50 Bank discount 10/-
£49.10.0 £10.-. -.
Paid Ingle Hotel £8.-. -.
Eliza £8.-. -.
I find no receipt for the 10 nor have I yet been able to ascertain what it refers to. Assuming it however to be a payment of some kind hereafter to be accounted for, the above amount with £2. borrowed of a fellow lodger and repaid after drawing upon you, will within a few pence amount to the cash to be accounted for. Thus :-
(To be yet explained) 10. -. -.
Hotel Bill 8. 6. 6.
Mrs. H.A. Lewes 8. -.-.
Loan from Mr. Pardy, repaid 2. -.-.
Cash paid for a revolver on account
of Mr. C. I. Harrison 7. -.-.
Cash in my hands 14. 1. 4.
£49. 7.10.
Deficiency 2. 2.
£49.10. -.
I hope, through Mr. Harrison, or otherwise, to be able to explain the item of £10. There are certain bills to pay, the hotel bill £14.2.-. the doctor's bill and the funeral expenses, the statements for which have not yet been sent to me. For these, I fear, I shall be under the necessity of drawing upon you, as I know his poor wife is badly off, and was almost without a penny until he sent the little remittance noted above. Her father I presume will at once repay her the 7 advanced by Herbert for him as he arranged to do: but with two helpless babes she must be in great straits. Herbert seemed very proud of his daughter. The name fixed on for the boy was I believe George Henry Arthur.
On hearing from Mr. Harrison I shall probably write to you further. I enclose a little hair I cut for you. I do not know that I have anything further to say at present. Probably Herbert explained the origin of the chill illness, which the Doctor told me would in England have taken the form of consumption of the lungs, but here seems to have attacked other organs. He had been exerting himself violently driving his wagon up a long ascent and on reaching the top threw off his coat and took a chill. This was in January. He coughed a good deal, and told me his glands were much swollen. Latterly his feet swelled greatly. He was always hopeful and thought himself improving in health, but his breathing was so difficult that we rather discouraged talking. I cannot think that even up to almost the last he thought his end so near.
I trust that you will not think because I have said nothing about it that I do not feel the deepest sympathy for you in this second sad loss, and will only add that if I can be of any service to you in any way here I beg that you will command me.- Believe me, Sir, most faithfully yours,
John Sanderson
I have reason to hope he had had his likeness taken here, but have made enquiry without success.- the age stated herewith in the paper, 27, is that named by himself to a fellow lodger. I have this moment found an unfinished letter to you which I enclose.- I hope to be able to write with final settlement of everything next mail and tell you something of the poor young widow and her babes. She seems a fine brave girl, most unselfish and entirely devoted to her husband and children but I fear, delicate. I should dread the effects of this blow upon her. |