Rev Rufus W Griswold · @RufusWGriswold
4th May 2014 from TwitLonger
@ExactCrafts From a letter from Rufus to James T. Fields, November 10 1842
The kindness of your former friendship leads me my dear James to believe you will sympathise with me in my present terrible afflictions. It is after midnight, and I have sat for thirty hours beside the dead body of my adored wife. Near me are the watche[r]s, and they have been urging me to sleep, as if I could find rest who am made desolate and a mourner for ever. My dearest Caroline! I speak to her but she does not hear me — I kiss her cold lips, but their fervor is gone — I look upon her cold, glazed eyes, and though their wonted kindness of expression is not all gone, they give back to me no look of confidence and love....
You know something of our history. Five years, last March, since we were married! It was the early spring time, when the buds were just beginning to blossom, for she wore flowers in her hair that night. Now I have the desolate November blasts, and in a few hours her body will be laid in the cold ground to remain forever! — Yes, the summer of my life is ended — the winter has come to my spirit, and of joys I shall not, I would not drink again in this dreary world....
I was not with her when she died — my beloved! — I left her last Sunday evening [November 6], in good health, to return to Philadelphia. Yesterday, word was brought to me that my dear wife and my only son were both dead! I came in the night train — I have sat by her since — and until 11 o’clock I shall not cease to embrace her. They will bury her then — bury my dear Caroline and my child from my sight! O God, I never dreamed that she should go before me from the world....
I know not what to write — I know not how to describe my anguish — so sudden, so unlooked for, so terrible a bereavement! I was not unprepared for death myself — the feebleness of my health — the wreck of my mind — my previous misfortunes — all taught me to look forward to death as a friend. I had but one regret — my dearest wife I knew loved me tenderly, and in dreams I saw her bending over me in my coffin, with tears flowing from her eyes. Dearest, kindest, Caroline! . . . .