Rensselaer Republican, Volume 18, Number 28, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 18 March 1886 — CHARLES DICKENS’ DEMISE. [ARTICLE]

CHARLES DICKENS’ DEMISE.

Hl* Last Moment* Touchingly Described by HU Daughter. ‘On the. Monday morning the sisters were to leave for London. Charles Dickens had an intense disliktrdo and shirking from all leave-taking. He never used the word “good-bye” if he cyuld help it, and generally left us for any short absence witli, a kiss or a nod.: But on this day his daughter Kate said : “I must say good-bye to papa," and went over to the chalet where "he was busy writing. As a rule, when he was bqav he~<ronld just nut un his cheek to be kissed. But thir day hey took his daughter in his arms, saying: “God bless you, Katie!” And titre txating the branches of the tr»eH, among the birds and butterflies, and-scent of flowers she left him. All that day and the next he was well, but soon tired—an unusual thing for him. On Wednesday morning Im was in excellent spirits, talking to “auntie” about his book, “Edwin Droqd,” and, as he was to go to his office in London theJlgxt .day he would, w;ork in the chalet and take no drive or walk until the evening. He once came to the house in the middle of the day, smoked a cigar in the conservatory, which, “improvement” he .took intense delight in, and went back to the chalet. It was not until lie and his sister-in-law, the only member of the- family home juSt then, sat down to dinner that she noticed a change in his color and expression. She asked him if he were ill, and he said: “Yes, very ill; I have been very ill for the last hour. ” She was going to send immediately for a doctor, but he forbade her, saying that he would go on. with the dinner, and to London afterward. He struggled against the fit that was coming on, and she, becoming seriously alarmed, entreated him to come and sit down. “Yes, on the ground,” he answered quite distinctly, and, on her arms going to assist him, he slid from her arms and fell on the floor. A couch was brought into the dining-room, on which he was. laid. Telegrams were sent to his children and to his London doctor, and a messenger sent for the doctor at Rochester, and the faithful friend and companion sat alone, for a time, watching. The two daughters and Mr. Beard arrived that evening, the eldest son the next morning, and his son Henry from Cambridge the evening of the 9th, too late. alas. We watched all through the night and all through the next day, but he never once opened his eyes, or showed . one sign of consciousness. It was better so for him. The last “good-bye” would have caused him such pain and sorrow. But we could tell the moment —ten minutes past 6 o’clock—when his spirit took its flight. A shadow stole across his face, a tear rolled dojvn his cheek, he gave * deep sigh, and he was rgone"ffomlts. Dickens.