Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1889-11-07
MRS. CROCKER'S FUNERAL.
THE LAST TRIBUTE PAID TO A NOBLE
WOMAN.
A Beautiful and Consoling Address by
Rev. DIR. Benton-The Floral
Offerings-Etc.

took place in San Francisco on Tuesday
afternoon, but the following synopsis of the
beautiful and consoling address delivered
! By the Rev. DR.. Benton will be read with
interest
| A sudden gloom has clouded the sky of day
| yet unspent and serene From out the cloud
summons, unheaId by any save the ear attent,
has called Tor the foremost woman in well-doing
| in all our land. As quietly as a child she has
obey ed the voice ana laid herself down TO the
slumber from which there is no awakening upon
| the earth. Without one questioning thought
! she passed out beyond the reach of the pleading
| voices of our recall, beyond the mute appeal OF
our streaming tears. And SO. awe-smitten, and
| with wonder, and faint, as if our breath were
| lost, we are come together III these sacred pre-
cincts to give our human instincts verge and
| room to honor the bond of sympathy that binds
our natures fast, to open our hearts to some
celestial visitation, and to offer such poor tribute
as we may to the work and worth of the shining
personality whose mortal part is alone with us
| still.
Mrs. Croker was born in Detroit, Mich, in
| November. 1927. She was married in South
| Bend, mi, in November, 1s52 In these two
places her childhood and early youth were
| passed, with only the absences that were de-
! manded by the receiving OF such an education
| as the earlier half of our century deemed the
| best When Mr.. Croker went from Sacra-
mento TO Indiana for his affianced he left Il
promising business aud q thriving city. Upon
mis- return, after the terrible confiagration OF
| November 2, 1852, he could only introduce his
| bride TO poor, burned, desolate scene-a city
| striving to house itself in and improvise some
| sort of shelter from the already pelting storms
| of one of the seYerest of winters. The memory
| of some among us will go back to that season,
/ to the coming of Mrs. Croker and to the tenn
porary and inadequate structure which became
her first home in our State.
The feet of some yet walk the earth that have
entered every abode in which Mrs. Croker has
dwelt on this side of The continent ana they
q "a irlcyn If har &c mn hO
make home in the unpretentious shelter of
unsmoothed wood; in the pleasant cottage that
arose in due time and welcomed many guest;
in the ro0my and inviting house that displaced
the cottage, amid grove and bower and lawn
and flowers, and in the stately mansion on the
hill above u.s. from which the ascent has proven
all TOO ready and rapid to a house mot made
with hands eternal in the heavens" AS the
phrase goes, Mrs. Croker was especially a
home body in the early years. She succeeded
by every manner OF device her wit could invent
and her heart suggest in making her home a
charm and an invitation, and the heart of her
husband knew that he could safely trust in her,
not only for the exercise of all the homely vir-
tues, bue for all the finer activities and "a er
graces that make the admirable woman the
wonder and the JOY she is in this poor world of
ours
Into this home, and as part of it, of course,
came daily the sunny face and the mirthful
mind of the husband of her love ond into it
were entered, as the years sped, three daughters
and three sons and after the year 1862 the
|
of twenty six years. But we must not suppose
that Mrs. Croker had no trials and that no sor-
rows could steal in to disturb the flow of human
satisfactions where so choice a spirit dwelt
Early she had to part with two of her little
daughters, dropped her hot tears upon the mar
BILE features of one, when but an infant of days.
and of another when an infant of four years
There was time also when, in consequence of
a hurt by accident, she kept her bed for months,
and it was long feared that she might be seri-
ously crippled for life.
And then away on later out of some secret
grief she wrote friend, saying, among other
things, every heart knOweth its own bitter
ness" and still again, do you never grow
weary in well-doing? I do; am worn out,
am SICK, ana am leaving home for long alb
sence." And just here the suggestion may be
made that Mrs. Croker may possibly have been
everlasting herself of late without being con-
scious of it, and though not warned OF it by in
somnia, as she sometimes had been; and it may
be that this oYertaxing OF the nervous system
gave reader access to the brain of that iDsid-
ious foe that drew her life away And her eYpe-
rience, almost more than that of any other per
son whose life was one OF philanthropy and
religion of whom we have read or heard adj
mOnishes us that those most in love with "the
true, the beautiful and the good may carry
burdens and meet with disappointments, and
that even the delights of well. doing may be
measured or marred by the exactions of the
thoughtless, or may be divided and spoiled by
the Prescriptions of the worthless.
With the years of reward and fruition, when
the burden of domestic cares was diminishing
and the family had become well established in
San Francisco, and the highest social positions
had been reached, Mrs. Croker felt that she
owed it to her friends, to the widening circle of
her acquaintance, and to society generally, to
open her house 10 receptions, to dispense large
Inequalities, to entertain distinguished visitors,
and to fill that eminent place in the social
sphere for which we have either the personal
fitness or the needed wealth. And she did all
this as thoughtfully, as CONSIDERABLY as con-
sciously as she performed her most sacred duties
n q world nd
with it without becoming worldly; to guide the
ways and set the fashions of the times, in some
measure, without ever being thought OF in the
least as a woman of fashion.
But with the accumulation of years in
knowledge and experience in wealth and in
uenee, in fitness and facility. her life took also
another turn, and she found herself with
heart full of all human loves, her mind full of
beDevolencss and her hands full of charities;
and then she found her time more and more &C.
cupied with these things and her interest more
and more absorbed in them and all things else
of little worth, unless they could somehow be
made auxiliary to such objects as these. And
SO she had projects in mind and plans ahead,
anticipating the weeks, the months, the years.
She did not wish to pass the winter in the East,
although she might be louelier here. Her heart
was in the costly enterprises of her skill and in
the benetactions of her liberality and she was
pouring the wealth OF her nature into them, as
well as the laTgt ness of her possessions. She
could hardly have wrought more diligently, the
last twelve months, had she been aware that
the night was swiftly coming, when no man
can work.
Let us lift our brow to the falling drops from
heaven, that may consecrate us anew TO philan-
thropic thought, and benevolent deed. and God
like life; and may set us apart to the doings of
those great deeds of benevolence that seem to
pause here for day; so that the blessed work
of our departed friend shall know neither fail
uTe nor arrest.
This address over, Rev. DIR. Dwinell
made short address, extolling Mrs. Crock
er's noble achievements in the cause of
charity, and offered a short prayer The
choir next sang "Sleep Thy Last Sleep"
after which benediclion was pronounced by
DR.. Barrows.
THE FLORAL OFFERINGS.
In the space where the casket was to rest
stood massive cross eight feet in hight,
formed entirely of snowy cbry santhemums
and La France roses, and bearing silkeu
scroll which read Her Children Rise Up
and Call Her Blessed 1t was the tribute
of Mrs Alexander. the daughter of the de-
ceased.
On the edge of the organ loft stood
broken column, many feet in hight, the
base of white chrysanthemums and the
column itself of roses. 1t bore the mono
gram 20. g." indicating the givers, the
members of the Olympic Club.
| Mrs Stantord's offering was beautiful
pillow of roses, carnations and camelias,
bearing the legend, why seek We the liv-
| ing among the dead?'
Other beautiful and costly offerings were
large armchair of flowers from Mrs O.
C. Livermore, a sheaf of ripe wheat gath
cred in the blade of silver sickle, and
bearing upon a silken ribbon the in
scription, Gods finger touched her and
she slept" the offering of the California
Women's Hospital: crown of gold colored
chrysanihemums surmounted by cross
of purple violets, given by the Park Com
missionsrs; a large cross of white callas
placed against the front of the organ loft,
| - .,.o-o1tad hxy tho ParE eyonlouac. a