CHAPTER XXIV.

CONTINUING INDISPOSITION.-SIR WALTER SCOTT.-BULL-FIGHTS.-DREAD OF THE NIGHT.-SPASMODIC AFFECTION.-LETTER FROM PRESCOTT.-VOL. V.

OF

GOING TO

"LIFE OF 99 WASHINGTON PRESCOTT'S DEATH.-RESTLESS NIGHTS.-ANXIETY TO SLEEP.-HIS LAST BIRTHDAY.

PRESS.-WILKIE.-HOLMES.

CTOBER 31ST, 1858.-At Sunnyside. Mr. Irving still troubled with his harassing cough. To an inquiry of one of his nieces how he had rested the night before, he replies: "So, so; I am apt to be rather fatigued, my dear, by my night's rest." After breakfast, he was turning over, in the library, the leaves of Dunglison's "Medical Dictionary," which had been sent him by the publisher the day before, "A very good book to have; but what an array of maladies for this poor machine of ours to be subject to! One almost wonders, as he thinks of them, that any should ever grow old."

He afterward got speaking of Sir Walter Scott. "O! he was a master spirit-as glorious in his conversation as in his writings. Jeffrey was delightful, and had eloquent runs in conversation; but there was a consciousness of talent with it. Scott had nothing of that. He spoke from the fullness of his mind, pouring out an incessant

flow of anecdote, story, etc., with dashes of humor, and then never monopolizing, but always ready to listen to and appreciate what came from others. I never felt such a consciousness of happiness as when under his roof. I awoke in the morning, and said to myself, 'Now I know I'm to be happy; I know I have an unfailing treat before me.' We would go out in the morning. Scott, with his brown pantaloons, greenish frock-coat, white hat, and cane, would go stumping along. Would hear him ahead, in his gruff tones, mumbling something to himself, like the grumbling of an organ, and find it would be a snatch of minstrelsy. The Antiquary' was the favorite of his daughter Sophia. It is full of his quiet humor. What a beautifully compounded character is Monkbarns! It is one of the very finest in our literature. That single character is enough to immortalize any man. Ochiltree also capital. How many precious treats have I had out of that 'Antiquary!' How you see Scott's delightful humor, whether grave or gay, playing through all his works, and revealing the man!”

November 11th.-Handed me some chapters of Volume V. in which he had introduced some new matter. Hard work, he said, to fit it in. Conversation turned to bullfights. "I did not know what a blood-thirsty man I was, till I saw them at Madrid, on my first visit. The first was very spirited, the second dull, the third spirited again, and afterward I hardly ever missed. "But the poor horses!" some one interposed. "O! well, they were

very old, and worn out, and it was only a question whether they should die a triumphal death, or be battered a few years longer. On my return to Madrid, I did not go much. The cruelty of my nature had been worn out.” His conversation was, as usual, a mixture of jest and earnest.

November 18th.-I left Sunnyside, and came to the city, and took rooms at the Clarendon Hotel for the winter. Mr. Irving came down, on the 20th, to see Dr. Peters about a spasm which seemed to take him after he had gone to bed, and was just falling asleep. The doctor gave him some prescription, with which he returned; but on Monday morning (22d) he was down again, having passed a sleepless night. He went at once to the doctor, and then came to my room at the Clarendon. Nearly out of breath when he got there. He returned again to the country, but, finding himself still nervous and sleepless, came to town a few days after, to pass some time with his friend, Mr. Barrett Ames, at 33 Lafayette Place. The distressing symptoms continued, however, accompanied, at times, with such increased difficulty of breathing as gave us all much anxiety. He stood it very well during the day, but began to have great dread of the night. On parting with him, one night, he repeated most feelingly the passage from Othello:

"Not poppy, nor mandragora,

Nor all the drowsy sirups of the world

Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep
Which thou ow'dst yesterday."

The next day found him quite in spirits, and full of conversation as usual. Speaking of, a celebrated public orator, I asked him if he had ever heard him. Only once. Liked some parts, but too apt to change his voice suddenly from low to loud, giving evidence only of the breadth and brassiness of his throat. His voice did not swell out properly from his theme. capriciously."

Let slip his thunder

On the 10th of December, after an entirely sleepless night, he rose early, and went at once to the doctor, having been so strangely affected that he was apprehensive of some impending attack, for which the doctor assured him there was no foundation. He retired the next night with great misgivings, but slept five hours, and in the morning was very bright. His nights continued to alternate between bad and good, and, finding no improvement from the change, he began to long for his home, and, on the 18th of December, returned to the cottage, accompanied by myself and wife, it being his earnest wish that we should go up with him. From this period to his death, we were, by his desire, inmates of Sunnyside.

66

I give below some notes with regard to the condition of his health, which I took at the time :

Sunday, December 19th.-A sleepless night. Knocked at the doctor's room (who had come up in the seveno'clock train, to stay over Sunday) at one o'clock, who got up, and read and conversed with him till half-past

four, when he called me, at Mr. Irving's request, to relieve him. I continued with him till he got up to shave. Excessively nervous when he came down in the morning, yet told a variety of anecdotes at the breakfast table. Tried to arrange papers after breakfast, and then was driven to the church at Tarrytown "just for the drive," the doctor accompanying him. The fact is, he was so restless, as he expressed it, he "did not know what to do with himself." After dinner, horror-haunted with the thought that he would not sleep. Went to bed at twelve, and slept four hours, I watching with him at first till a quarter past one, and, finding he did not awake, lying down on the sofa in his room. Was bright and cheerful when he awoke, and continued so during the day.

December 20th.—Oliver Wendell Holmes and F. S. Cozzens, of Yonkers, made a call. Mr. Irving enjoyed their visit glad to see Holmes, whom he had never met before, but whose "Autocrat of the Breakfast Table" he had been reading with great zest. They stayed about half an hour. I was absent in the city. On retiring that night, soon fell asleep, but in a short time awoke, in a very nervous and restless state. I read and talked to him for an hour, when I lay down on the sofa in his room. At half past two he awoke me again. Had great difficulty of breathing, and a sort of spasmodic affection. of the stomach, which roused him whenever he was falling asleep.

December 22d.-Amused himself, this morning, in look