The sun. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1833-1916, 1906-04-01
III.

III.
II may be remembered that the Christmas
Of 1853 was darkened for many men and
women in England by the shock n sorrow
Of T~hackeray's sudden death. 1t was
known that he suffered occasionally, but,
flushed as he was with success and full OF
fine plans and high interest, it had never
been anticipated that the end would come
In 90 awfully startling a fashion. The
tragedy was felt, perhaps, outside the
writer's own family, nowhere 50 aoutely
as in the Brook1eld household. The friend
ship between the Brookfelds and T~hackeray
had been long and close. Mr.. B%rookfeld
records the dreadful news in his diary in
three words, "Thackeray is dead and
then nothing 10 recorded till he stood
between Dickens and Sir James Colville'
at the grave Of his friend. The book before
US testihes that Thackeray was missed 10
a greater extent even than might have been
expected Of one Of his high genius and great
prominence, not so much because he was
loved, as he was loved by all who really
knew him, but because, with his big heart
and great mass Of a SOUL he could not
help pouring out about him unmeasured
draughts of affection, giving copious return
for all that was bestowed upon him. Singh
larly simple, a humble man in matters con-
corning himself, he paid high homage to
his intimates and fitted them all most gen.
erously with laurels and with halos. He
not only exalted his chosen ones, but would
often 60 out OF his way to soothe rounds
given to them by rougher spirits, always
assuming such duties to be but part Of his
daily task. Thackeray in all things was
grand, and stanch, and faithful. When,
not 80 very long before the end, he was
asked by his daughter which Of his friends
he had loved the most he answered: why,
dear old Fitz [Fitzgeraldl, the author of
the Quatrains, to be sure-and Brookfeld.'
In March, 1851, Thackeray wrote to
Brookfeld, whose father had lately died,
the following letter Of coincidence, 80 char
acteristic that We reproduce it, especially
as it has never before been printed, 30 far
as we know: Il recall what you have said
in your many talks Of your father: and
remember the affection and respect with
which you always regarded and spoke Of
him. Who could wish for more than honor,
love, obedience and a tranquil end to old
age? And 80 the generation that engenders
US passes away, and their place knows
them not; and our turn comes when we are
to say good-by to our joys, troubles, pains,
affections and our young ones will grieve
and be consoled for us, n 30 on. We've
lived as much in forty as your good old
father with his fourscore years, don't you'
think 50? And how awfully tired and
lonely we are! I picture to myself the placid
face OF the kind old father, with all that
trouble and doubt over-his life expiring
with supreme blessings for you all-for
you and Jane, and uncSrscious little Magda-
lene, prattling and laughing at life's thresh-
old, and know that you will be tenderly
cheered and consoled by the good mans
blessing for the three of you; while yet
but a minute, but yesterday, but all eternity
ago, he was here, loving and suffering. Igo
on with the paper before me, 1 know there
is nothing to say-but | assure you OF my
sympathy. and that / am yours, my dear
old friend, w. M. Thackeray."
Meeting Mrs. Brookield at dinner In
January, 1851, Helps, author Of Friends in
Council, asked about T~hackeray: is he
an amiable mann I a to know, for his
books don't give me the impression that
he is Thackeray heard of it, and writing
soon afterward from Paris to Mrs. Brook
field said; Il have been advancing in
Bluebeard, and must give it up; it Is too
dreadfully cynical and wicked. It is In
blank verse, and all a diabolical sheer.
Depend upon it Helps is right" Later in
the same letter he says: Il was writing
Bluebeard all day; very sardonic and anus
ing to do, but I doubt if it will be pleasant
to read or hear, or even if it Is right to 20
~ IN Nh,o Dt41ral y1iN a~I ~ --
you that a story is billing up in my interior
in which there shall appear some very
good, lofty, generous people; perhaps a
story without any villains in it would be
good, wouldn't it?" Mrs. Brookfeld replied
that she should like him to write a novel
to startle Helps and such like objectoru,
who think your heart does not keen paee
with your head"
Harry Hallam, son Of the historian and
near relative Of Mira. Brookfeld, died in
October, 1850, and Thackeray went down to
the funeral, which took place at Cleyedon
Court, the seat Of Mrs. ~Brookfeld's brother.
He tells Mrs. Brookfeld that he saw the
last rites performed for poor, dear Harry.s
"The church. he continues, looked yerv
tranquil and well ordained, and / had half
an hour there before the procession came
in view. Those ceremonies over a corpse-
the immortal soul Of a man being in keeping
Of God-and beyond the reach Of all under
tak~ers-always appeared to me shocking
rather than solemn-and the horses and
plimes give me pain. The awful moment
was when the dear old father-the coffin
being lowered into the vault, where so much
OF his affections and tenderest love lie
down into the grave, and
gave the coffin a last Kiss; there was no
standing that last, most affecting touch
nature; and now l will go to bed, and
pray as best I can for you and yours and
your nieces and your faithful old Make
peace. G.. B. Y"
At the time when vanity Fair was in
course Of publication a report was current
that Mrs. ~Brookfeld was the original of
Amelia. In a letter penned in October.
lSi7, she alludes to the report: There Is a
new vanity not good-except the wicked
oDAs-Mr. TIM kerav hna no,