This text is part of:
Table of Contents:
‘  as if nothing unusual had occurred. Entering, the daughter was found reclining upon the bed, boots on and protruding from the covering—the Doctor's style. She was as much surprised as she was disappointed at the apprehension of her father and the thwarting of her deep-laid scheme.’ Another very interesting and remarkable event occurred in the jail during the Doctor's confinement, viz: the marriage of his daughter, Miss Elizabeth M., and Mr. William Henry Talbott. These parties were engaged to be married, and the Doctor wished to witness the marriage ceremony, and hence petitioned the authorities to permit its consummation in the prison, which was granted, and Saturday before the execution, the affianced, with some thirty invited guests, assembled in the office of the prison, and the Doctor ‘gave away his daughter,’ the ceremony being performed by a Methodist United States chaplain from Fort Monroe. The afternoon of the day preceding the closing scene, the Lord's Supper was administered to Dr. Wright in the presence of his family, three or four friends, and a few other spectators, by the Revs. Messrs. Rodman of Christ Church, and Okeson of St. Paul's. The last separation between the Doctor and his family is said to have been most solemn and affecting. It was done. The faithful Mr. Rodman seems to have lingered near to administer the consolations of the Gospel. Morning came. A deeply interesting interview was held between the Doctor and his spiritual adviser. Mr. Rodman then left him for a time. The day of execution had come, dark clouds obscured the heavens, the city of Norfolk was enshrouded in gloom. Many, very many left early in the day, and sought secluded places of refuge in the country. Many buried themselves in the deepest recesses of their homes with blinds, curtains and doors securely closed. And while, as we will presently learn from Mr. Rodman, the soulless blacks, and senseless, vulgar whites, thronged Church street as the cortege passed to the Federal gibbet, with the exception of some of his poor patients, who wished to take a last look at their loved and kind physician, who gazed at him as he passed along, and who, so soon as he acknowledged their salutation, burst into tears and ladened the air with their cries and wails—with these exceptions, all of Norfolk had settled into the deepest gloom, only equalled by the darkest hours of the great scourge in 1855,—while Nature, as if in full sympathy
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 United States License.
An XML version of this text is available for download, with the additional restriction that you offer Perseus any modifications you make. Perseus provides credit for all accepted changes, storing new additions in a versioning system.