Tuesday. 5th Aug. 1851. Sing Sing.
Bright, and beautiful day. My father died
to day at 8 oclock. P.M.
Mr Hasbrouck, left in the cars
before nine. I walked on the road with Henry; we talked of
home; and our poor sick father; little did we know at
that very hour, he was breathing his last, but so it was;
between the hours of eight & nine; he fell asleep.
Henry went to his books on our return, and I went to my
sewing. Maria, and Julia walked down to the Cars; to see
their “father”, did not find him; walked over Dr Creightons
place. We dined, and. I went calmly to bed; fell asleep;
not feeling as strong as usual.
A loud knock at my door awoke me, and Henry’s voice,
shattered me from slumber. A few hurried words told
all; our poor father was dead. Ferdinand came up in haste
to take Henry down to the house of mourning.
I promised to follow the next day, with the children, and
Maria. How great this blow, so long expected, and yet so
sudden at last. I could not sleep, or eat, and thought only
of the poor suffer, whom I had neglected to visit to the last.
Could I have called back the past, my reproaches would have
been spared. How much Catharine deceived me, H. also.