Edward L. Pierce, Memoir and letters of Charles Sumner: volume 4

[597] reached the chamber at nine, or shortly after. The doctor found him lying across the bed, groaning, and in great agony. Morphine was administered hypodermically, and a quarter of an hour later the continued pain made another resort to it necessary. The sufferer said, presently: ‘There, now I have turned the corner; the pain is decreasing. I shall sleep.’ He then fell asleep, and those present retired to the adjoining room,—the study. The physician, who had been with him in several attacks, had seen none so agonizing as this. Twenty minutes later He awoke with another paroxysm. The morphine and other remedies for deadening pain and keeping up vitality were again applied. The narcotics produced a stupor, after which intervals of full consciousness were infrequent and brief. In the mean time disconnected expressions came from the sufferer, among which, ‘my book, my unfinished book!’ references to the uncompleted edition of his Works, were distinguished. He said: ‘Doctor, this thing must kill me yet, and it might as well be now; for life at this price is not worth the having.’ At twenty minutes past ten, after the third attempt to relieve the pain, his pulse was found to be weak, wavering, and slow; and it was apparent that, though it might be prolonged for hours, the final struggle had come. His friends, Wormley and H. L. Pierce, who lived near by, were notified of his condition, and came at once to the house. A messenger was despatched for other professional aid, and Dr. W. P. Johnston arrived shortly. From that time to the end there was little change, save in the still weakening pulse, the diminishing sight, and the increasing coldness of the limbs. The heart beat now and then with a certain force, but for the last six hours of life there was no pulsation at the wrist. At intervals the sufferer came out of the stupor, and spoke briefly, but intelligibly. When the pain had gone, an awful sense of weariness remained, which he implored the physician to relieve. Friends at the bedside heard the words ‘tired,’ ‘weary.’ In the morning (Wednesday), before sunrise, a telegram was sent to Dr. Brown-Sequard, then in New York, summoning him to Washington; and at nine Dr. Barnes, then surgeon-general, and Dr. Lincoln came for a consultation, but it was of no avail. E. R. and G. F. Hoar and Mr. Schurz heard in the morning of their friend's condition, and came at once. At the bedside, serving as friendly nurses, were Wormley and G. T. Downing, both of the race whose champion he had been; and bending over him was his