Pioche daily record. [volume] (Pioche, Nev.) 1872-1876, 1872-12-05
THE LAST HOURS OF HORACE
GREELEY.

account of the illness and last hours Of
Mr. Greeley: He was in almost as good
health as usual, when on the day after
election he wrote card announcing his
resumption of the editorial charge of
the Tribune. His sleeplessness was
known to have become greatly worse, but
for years he had suffered more or less
from the same difficulty. 1t is now clear
that sufficient allowance had not been
made for the intense strain upon him
throughout the summer and especially
during the last month Of his wife's i'll
ness, but it soon became evident that his
strength was unequal to the hard task to
which he set himself. He wrote only
three or four careful articles, no one Of
them half a column in length. The most
notable perhaps was entitled Conclu-
sions," wherein he summed up his views
of the canvass. In all he wrote less
than three and a-half columns after his
return, contributing to only four issues
of the paper Two or three times he
handed his assistant short articles say
ing, "there is an idea worth using, but
haven't felt able to work it out properly,
you had better put it in shape" At last,
on the 18th instant, he abandoned the
effort to visit the Office and sent for the
family physician of Mr.. A. j. johnson,
the friend with whom he was guest,
and in whose house his wife had died.
Every effort was made to induce sleep,
but he grew steadily worse until it be-
came evident his case was critical. Dr.
George G. Choate and others were called
in consultation, and finally decided to
take him to DR.. Choate's residence,
three miles distant from Greeley's own
country house at Chappaqua. Here he
received unremitting attention. DR..
Choate, DR.. Brown and others were
called in consultation. The insomnia
had developed into Inflammation OF the
brain. Under this the venerated patient
rapidly sank At times he was delirious,
at other times as clear-headed as ever.
He lost flesh and strength with startling
rapidity, and in few days the possibili-
ty of speedy death forced itself into un-
willing recognition. 1t was not, how
ever, until Thursday that his associates
and family brought themselves to admit
it. Even then they still clung to his
faith in the vigor Of his constitution.
On Wednesday night he failed very
rapidly. Thursday evening he seemed
somewhat easier. During the night he
was very uneasy in his sleep, muttering
occasionally and frequently raising his
right hand. Toward the morning he was
more quiet, and between eight and nine
o'clock he fell into nearly unconscious
condition, which continued with some
intervals through the day. He made oc-
caslonal exclamations, but many of them,
IN consequence of his extreme weakness,
were unintelligible. About noon, how
ever he said quite distinctly, and with
some force, " know that my Redeemer
hveth.' During the day he recognized
various people-his daughter, Mary
Shines and members of the household at
Chappaqua, Mr.. John r. Stuart and Mr..
Reid. On the whole he suffered little,
and seemed to have no more restlessness
than the ordinary rsstlessness which &C.
companies the last stage OF the disease.
During the day his extremities were cold,
and there was no pulse at the wrist. The
action of the heart was very intermittent,
constantly diminishing nforce. He had
not asked for water or been willing to
drink since his stay at DR.. Choate's, but
during Friday he asked for it frequently.
up to within half an hour he often man
he'ted In various ways his consciousness
OF what was going on around him, and
even answered, in monosyllables, ques-
tons addressed to him. About half.past
he said, distinctly, 1T is DONE" Be-
yond the briefest answers to questions,
thlswas his last utterancs. His youngest
daughter, Gabrielle, was with him through
Thursday evening and throughout Friday.
Tho elder daughter, Ida, was in constant
attendance. Other members of the
Uhappaqua household were present, with
mr.. John r. Stuart and few other
friends. Nothing that science or affec-
uon could suggest was wanting to ease
me last hours. The wintry night had
lalriy set in, when, the inevitable hour
came. Within, the daughters and few
o.ners stood near tho dying man, who
remained conscious and seemingly ra-
uonal and free from pain, though now
100 weak to speak. In an adjoining
room sat one or two friends and physi.
cans. At ten minutes before seven
clock they drew back in reverent still
ness from the bedside. The great editor
was gone in peace after 40 manv struo.