Part 13

He said to Colonel Anderson, who for one and twenty years had been his friend and companion in arms: "Anderson, you know that I always wished to die in this way." He frequently asked, "Are the French beaten?" And at length, when he was told they were defeated in every point, he said: "It is a great satisfaction to me to know we have beaten the French. I hope the people of England will be satisfied. I hope my country will do me justice." Having mentioned the name of his venerable mother, and the names of some other friends, for whose welfare he seemed anxious to offer his last prayers, the power of utterance was lost, and he died in a few minutes without a struggle.--_The Book of Death._

The last words that passed his dying lips were a message to Lady Hester Stanhope, the niece of Pitt, afterwards so famous for her eccentricity, as her father had been before her. To her, to whom he is said to have been deeply attached, if not engaged, he sent his dying remembrances by her brother, one of his aides-de-camp, and then passed peacefully into the presence of his God.--_Cornhill Magazine._

[36] It has been generally supposed that the burial of Sir John Moore, who fell at the battle of Corunna, in 1809, took place during the night, an error which doubtless arose from the statement to that effect in Wolfe's celebrated lines. Rev. Mr. Symons, who was the clergyman on the occasion, states, however, in "Notes and Queries," that the burial took place in the morning, in broad day-light.

MORE (Sir Thomas, author of "Utopia." He succeeded Wolsey as lord chancellor, a dignity never before filled by a common lawyer. He refused to take the oath to maintain the lawfulness of the marriage of Henry VIII. with Anne Boleyn, and was therefore adjudged guilty of high treason, and condemned to death. He was beheaded July 6, 1535), 1480-1535. "_I pray you see me safe up the scaffold; as for my coming down, let me shift for myself._" Some say his last words were these, addressed to the executioner, "Stay friend till I put aside my beard, for that never committed treason."

MORE (Hannah, poet, essayist and moralist), 1744-1833. "_Joy._"

MORRIS (Gouverneur, American Statesman), 1752-1816.

Courageously he had lived, and courageously he met the great change, with entire resignation to the Divine will. "Sixty-four years ago," he said just before his death, "it pleased the Almighty to call me into existence--here, on this spot, in this very room; and now shall I complain that he is pleased to call me hence?" On the day of his death he asked about the weather, and, on being told that it was fair, he replied: "A beautiful day, yes, but--

"'Who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey, This pleasing, anxious being e'er resign'd; Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day, Nor cast one longing lingering look behind?'" --_Diary and Letters of Gouverneur Morris._

MORTON (Oliver Perry, American Statesman), 1823-1877. "_I am dying, I am worn out_," to Dr. Thompson who was standing by his bed and holding his hand.

MOTHE LE VAYER DE LA (This learned man's favorite amusement consisted in the study of distant countries), 1588-1672. "_Well, my friend, what news from the Great Mogul?_" The question was addressed to Bernier, the traveller, who had entered his room to bid him an affectionate and last farewell.

MOTLEY (John Lothrop, distinguished historian), 1814-1877. "_I am ill--very ill, I shall not recover._"

About two o'clock in the day he complained of a feeling of faintness, said he felt ill and should not recover; and in a few minutes was insensible with symptoms of ingravescent apoplexy. There was extensive hemorrhage into the brain, as shown by postmortem examination, the cerebral vessels being atheromatous. The fatal hemorrhage had occurred into the lateral ventricles, from rupture of one of the middle cerebral arteries. _Sir William W. Gull's account of Motley's death._

MOZART (Johann Chrysostom Wolfgang Amadeus, one of the most eminent of musical composers), 1756-1792. The last words which he addressed to Sophie Haibl were, "I have the flavour of death on my tongue. I taste death; and who will support my dearest Constanze if you do not stay with her?" Later he conversed with Süssmayer over the Requiem and was heard to say, "_Did I not say that I was writing the Requiem for myself?_" This he said with tears in his eyes as he looked at the notes.

Just before death he demanded to hear again the Requiem. Dr. Clossel, his physician, nodded his consent. Süssmayer sat down at the piano, Schack sang the soprano, Hofer the tenor, Gorl the bass, and the dying Mozart the alto. Softly swelled forth the ineffable music of the sweet, sorrowful, sacred death song. After this the chamber was silent as the grave. Only the clock ticked softly on the shelf, as it marked the weary hours of the passing night.--_Condensed from Sill's translation of Rau's Biographical Romance of Mozart._

After all consciousness had gone, still Mozart's fancies were busy with the Requiem, blowing out his cheeks to imitate the trumpets and drums. Toward midnight he raised himself, opened his eyes wide, then lay down with his face to the wall and seemed to fall asleep. At one o'clock he expired.

The swelling of Mozart's body after death led to the suspicion that he had been poisoned. But there was no other ground for the suspicion than Mozart's diseased fancies, which gave rise to the most shameful and unfortunate distrust of Salieri, who, it was reported, acknowledged upon his deathbed having administered poison to Mozart. All these suspicions were fully laid to rest by Carpani in the Biblioteca Italiana, 1824.[37]

[37] A common undistinguished grave received the coffin, which was then left without memorial--almost forgotten--for nearly twenty years; and when, in 1808, some inquiries were made as to the precise spot of the interment, all that the sexton could tell was that, at the latter end of 1791, the space about the third and fourth row from the cross was being occupied with graves; but the contents of these graves being from time to time exhumed, nothing could be determined concerning that which was once Mozart.--_Home's "Life of Mozart."_

MUHLENBERG (Rev. William Augustus, founder of St. Luke's Hospital in New York, and author of the hymn, "I would not live alway"), 1796-1877. "_Good morning_," spoken to a friend who entered the room.

MURPHY (Arthur, dramatic author, and translator), 1728-1805. He died repeating the lines of Pope:

"_Taught, half by reason, half by mere decay, To welcome death, and calmly pass away._"

NADIR SHAH (Kouli Khan, celebrated Persian conqueror), 1688-1747. "_Thou dog!_" addressed to one of the conspirators who slew him in his tent, June 19, 1747.

When Nadir invaded India in 1739, he arrived first at Lahore; where the governor immediately surrendered the city to him, and treated him with princely honours. At night Nadir, whose only couch, for months past, had been a horse-blanket, with a saddle for a pillow, was conducted to a magnificent bed, with piles of cushions; and twelve young damsels were in attendance to shampoo his limbs and fan him to sleep. Nadir started from his luxurious couch, roared for his secretary, and gave orders that the drums should be beat, and a proclamation made that Nadir had conquered all India. The astonished scribe ventured to hint that this conquest had not yet been accomplished. "No matter," said Nadir, "where the chiefs of the people choose to live in this effeminate manner, it will cost me little trouble to conquer them." And his anticipation was fully verified. After he had taken the city of Delhi, he visited the discomfited Emperor, who received him in fear and trembling. Nadir was seated in the chair of state, and the attar of roses and other perfumes were brought, according to custom and presented to him. Nadir had not changed his clothes or taken off his armor for many days, and his person was by no means free from vermin. He asked contemptuously what was the use of perfuming a soldier's garments; and, thrusting his hand into his bosom, drew forth a number of lice, which he told the astonished Emperor were better companions than all his sweet scents. Nadir had ordered a splendid mausoleum to be built for himself at Mush'hed, in Khorassan; and on his return from India he went to see it. The night before he visited his intended resting-place, some unfriendly wag wrote above the spot destined for his grave--"Welcome, conqueror of the world! your place here has long been empty." The wag had in mind Nadir's common salutation to a friend who had been long absent, "Your place has been long empty." Nadir offered a reward for the discovery of the writer, but never succeeded in finding out who he was. The place was not long empty, for Nadir was assassinated soon after, and here his remains rested till they were dug up and desecrated by Agha Mohammed. _Welby: "Predictions Realized in Modern Times."_

NANI (Giambattista Felice Gasparo, author of "Istaria della Republica Veneta"), 1616-1678. "_How beautiful!_"

NAPOLÉON I. (Napoléon Bonaparte), 1769-1821. "_Mon Dieu! La Nation Française! Tête d'armée_," He died on the island of St. Helena, May 5, 1821. In 1840 his remains were removed to France and deposited in the Hotel des Invalides.[38]

During the last nine days of his life he was constantly delirious. On the morning of May 5th he uttered some incoherent words, among which Montholon fancied that he distinguished, "_France ... armée ... tête d'armée._" As the patient uttered these words he sprang from the bed, dragging Montholon, who endeavored to restrain him, on the floor. It was the last effort of that formidable energy. He was with difficulty replaced in bed by Montholon and Archambault, and then lay quietly till near six o'clock in the evening, when he yielded his last breath. A great storm was raging outside, which shook the frail huts of the soldiers as with an earthquake, tore up the trees that the Emperor had planted, and uprooted the willow under which he was accustomed to repose. Within, the faithful Marchand was covering the corpse with the cloak which the young conqueror had worn at Marengo. _Lord Rosebery._

[38] The heart of the first Napoleon had a narrow escape from disappearing forever, elsewhere than in the tomb. It is recorded that when he died at St. Helena his heart was extracted for preservation. The English physician who had charge of it placed it in a silver basin containing water, and leaving tapers burning beside it retired to rest. Sleep, however, visited him not, and suddenly, breaking the silence, he heard first a rustling, then a plunge in the water of the basin, then a fall with a rebound on the floor, all in quick succession. Springing from his couch, the physician saw an enormous rat dragging Bonaparte's heart to its hole: in a few moments more it would have formed a meal for rats.

NAPOLÉON III. (Louis Napoléon, "The Little," "Ratipole," "The Man of Sedan," "The Man of December," "Boustrapa," "Badinguet" and "The Comte d'Arenenberg"), 1808-1873. "_Were you at Sedan?_" He asked the question of Dr. Conneau. It was at Sedan that he surrendered his sword to the King of Prussia.

NARES (Rev. Edward, "Thinks I to myself"), 1762-1841. "_Good-bye._"

NARUSZEWICZ (Adam Stanislas, "The Polish Tacitus"), 1733-1796. "_Must I leave it unfinished?_" He referred to his "History of Poland."

NEANDER (Johann August, the celebrated church historian. He was of Jewish descent, but early in life embraced the Christian faith, and at his baptism assumed the name "Neander," from two Greek words signifying a new man), 1789-1850. "_I am weary; I will now go to sleep. Good night!_"

NELSON (Horatio), 1758-1805. "_Thank God, I have done my duty._" He died in battle. Some say his last words were: "Kiss me, Hardy." Others give them thus: "Tell Collingwood to bring the fleet to anchor."

His ever-memorable signal to his fleet, immediately before the battle commenced, had been; "England expects every man to do his duty," and if ever a man lived and died in earnest, fearless, unselfish discharge of his duty to his country, it was Admiral Nelson, victor of the Nile, Copenhagen and Trafalgar.--_Appleton's Cyclopædia of Biography._

NERO (Lucius Domitius Claudius Cæsar, Emperor of Rome), 37-68. "_Qualis artifex pereo!_"

The poor wretch who, without a pang, had caused so many brave Romans and so many innocent Christians to be murdered, could not summon up resolution to die. He devised every operatic incident of which he could think. When even his most degraded slaves urged him to have sufficient manliness to save himself from the fearful infamies which otherwise awaited him, he ordered his grave to be dug, and fragments of marble to be collected for its adornment, and water and wood for his funeral pyre, perpetually whining: "What an artist to perish!" Meanwhile a courier arrived for Phaon. Nero snatched his dispatches out of his hand, and read that the Senate had decided that he should be punished in the ancestral fashion as a public enemy. Asking what the ancestral fashion was, he was informed that he would be stripped naked and scourged to death with rods, with his head thrust into a fork. Horrified at this, he seized two daggers, and after theatrically trying their edges, sheathed them again, with the excuse that the fatal moment had not yet arrived! Then he bade Sparus begin to sing his funeral song, and begged some one to show him how to die. Even his own intense shame at his cowardice was an insufficient stimulus, and he whiled away the time in vapid epigrams and pompous quotations. The sound of horses' hoofs then broke on his ears, and venting one more Greek quotation, he held the dagger to his throat. It was driven home by Epaphroditus, one of his literary slaves. At this moment the centurion who came to arrest him rushed in. Nero was not yet dead, and under pretense of helping him, the centurion began to stanch the wound with his cloak. "Too late," he said; "is this your fidelity?" So he died; and the bystanders were horrified with the way in which his eyes seemed to be starting out of his head in a rigid stare. He had begged that his body might be burned without posthumous insults, and this was conceded by Icelus, the freedman of Galba. _Farrar: "Early Days of Christianity."_

It was the remark of Nero's father, Ahenobarbus, that nothing but what was hateful and pernicious to mankind could ever come from Agrippina and himself. Yet the story of a strange hand that strewed flowers upon the tomb of this tyrant is well known.

NEWELL (Harriet, missionary in India), 1793-1812. "_The pains, the groans, the dying strife. How long, O Lord, how long?_"

NEWPORT (Francis, once famous as an opponent of Christianity). "_Oh, the insufferable pangs of hell and damnation!_" Died 1692.

NEWTON (John, English divine. His early life was that of a profligate sailor engaged in the African slave-trade. After his conversion he became the friend of the poet Cowper, and with him wrote the "Olney Hymns"). 1725-1807. "_I am satisfied with the Lord's will._" Last recorded words.

NEWTON (Richard, an English divine, founder of Hertford College, Oxford), 1676-1753. "_Christ Jesus the Saviour of sinners and life of the dead. I am going, going to Glory! Farewell sin! Farewell death! Praise the Lord!_"

NOTT (Eliphalet, American clergyman, President of Union College, Schenectady, N. Y., for more than sixty years), 1773-1866. "_One word, one word--Jesus Christ!_"

NOURSE (Rebecca, a good and brave woman who, in the old Puritan-days, suffered as a witch at Salem, Mass.), 1621-1692. Her last words are not preserved, but it is recorded that just before her death she declared her innocence and appealed to the judgment of Almighty God. The story of her death forms one of the saddest of the many distressing chapters in the history of early New England.

Mrs. Nourse was a very devout woman, and probably the hardest blow of all was the action of the First Congregational Church, of which she was a member. The records still preserved read as follows:

"After Sacrament the elders propounded to the church, and it was by unanimous vote consented to, that our Sister Nourse, being a convicted witch, and condemned to die, be excommunicated, which was accordingly done in the afternoon, she being present."

The scene presented on this occasion must have been as impressive at the time, as it is shocking to us in the retrospect. The spacious meeting-house was filled with people. The sheriff, accompanied by his deputy brought in the prisoner, manacled, with the chains clanking from her side. The two elders, Higginson and Noyes, as the clergy were then called, delivered an address over the sorrow-burdened form condemning her to eternal punishment.

Then came the day of execution, July 19, 1692. At an early hour the little village was bristling with activity. "The devil's angel on earth" was to be punished with the death she deserved, and so the Puritan maidens attired themselves in holiday dress to honor the event. The procession to the gallows was a long one, scores of people from the neighboring towns and villages taking part. The victim, manacled and guarded by the sheriff and his deputy, headed the line, while close behind followed troops of men and women who laughed, deeming it rare sport to see the agonized faces of the terror-stricken family as they watched the mother and wife grow pale, and tremble as she began the ascent of the rocky cliff whose top was crowned with the instrument of death. It is impossible in words to depict the scene of the execution in the horrible colors in which tradition has painted it. With firm steps and eyes upturned to heaven, the gray-haired woman took her place on the drop. Silently the hangman tied the rope before the eager waiting assembly; then a momentary hush passed over the crowd--the executioner's duty was done. A moment later all that was left to tell the story was the body of the aged woman swinging gently in the summer wind.

Seldom has a woman met with a harder fate. Her body was thrown with the previous victims into a hole in a crevice of the rocks, and hastily covered with earth. Then the masses of spectators turned homeward, leaving the bereaved family at the homestead uncared for and ignored by their once firm friends.

It is a family tradition that in some way the remains of Mrs. Nourse were recovered by her husband and sons and interred in the spot which is now pointed out on the estate as her grave. Imagination only can recall the details of the event, so sad and awful. In the darkness of night the sons hasten to the new-made grave, throw off the slight covering of earth, and by the feeble light of a lantern discover the remains. What feelings of revenge and sorrow must have stirred their hearts as they raised their mother's soulless frame tenderly in their arms, and carried it along through woods and valleys, over highways and fields to the homestead, where, on the following night, the three pronounced the only burial service over the remains, as they lowered the body into a newly-made grave in their own consecrated grounds, which down through the generations has been reverently guarded.

A beautiful shaft of granite has been erected over her grave by her descendants. The monument is of Rockport and Quincy granite, and is eight and a half feet high. The base and apex are of Rockport granite, and the die of Quincy granite, polished and lettered as follows:

REBECCA NOURSE. YARMOUTH, ENGLAND. 1621. SALEM, MASS. 1692.

O Christian martyr, who for truth could die, When all about thee owned the hideous lie, The world redeemed from superstition's sway, Goes breathing freer, for thy sake, to-day.

(On the reverse.)

Accused of witchcraft, she declared, "I am innocent, and God will clear my innocency." Once acquitted, yet falsely condemned, she suffered death July 19, 1692.

In loving memory of her Christian character, even then fully attested by forty of her neighbors, this monument is erected July, 1885.

NEY (famous French marshal, "The bravest of the brave"), 1769-1815. "_Soldiers--fire!_" said to the soldiers appointed to dispatch him.

Some say his last words were: "Comrades, straight to the heart, fire!" While repeating these words, he took off his hat, it is said, with his left hand, and placed his right hand upon his heart. The officer gave the signal with sword at the same moment, and the marshal instantly fell dead, pierced with twelve balls, three of which took effect in the head.

NOYES (John, the martyr). "_We shall not lose our lives in this fire, but change them for a better, and for coals, have pearls_," said to a fellow martyr.

OATES (Titus), about 1619-1705. "_It is all the same in the end._"

Titus Oates was the son of an anabaptist minister, but was educated for the Church of England, and received an appointment as chaplain in the royal navy. He was dismissed in disgrace from the navy, and united with the Jesuits. Later he rejoined the Church of England, and revealed a pretended popish plot, which resulted in the execution and imprisonment of many innocent persons. For this he received a large pension, and was granted a residence at Whitehall, where he lived until the death of Charles II. Under King James he was convicted of perjury and publicly whipped. William III. pensioned him.

An old acrostic, in a book published by Nat. Thompson, the bookseller, "at the entrance into the Old Spring Garden near Charing Cross," during the reign of Charles II., has this choice description of Titus Oates:

Trayter to God, damn'd source of blasphemy, Insect of hell, grand mass of perjury; Thorough-pac'd villain, second unto none, Unless to Judas (if by him out-done), Satan's black agent, hell's monopoly, Of all that's called sin and villainy; Accursed parent of an hell-bred brood, Teacher of lies, spiller of guiltless blood; England's dark cloud, eclipsing all her glory; Satan's delight, and hell's repository.

O'CAROLAN, or CAROLAN (Turlough, famous Irish bard and musical composer), 1670-1738. "_It would be hard indeed if we two dear friends should part after so many years, without one sweet kiss._" These words were spoken to a bowl of wine which he kissed when he was no longer able to drink.

OLIVER (François, Chancellor of France), 1497-1560. "_O Cardinal! thou wilt make us all to be damned_," to Cardinal Lorrain under whom he had condemned to death many innocent men for their faith. He fell sick through remorse, and in his delirium charged Cardinal Lorrain with bringing down upon him the wrath of God.

ORANGE (William, Prince of, called "William the Silent," founder of the Dutch Republic), 1533-1584. "_I do_," in response to his sister's question, "Dost thou commend thy soul to Jesus Christ?"

William staggered and fell into the arms of an equerry. All crowded round. "I am wounded," said William in a feeble voice.... "God have mercy on me and on my poor people!" He was all covered with blood. His sister, Catherine of Schwartzburg, asked, "Dost thou commend thy soul to Jesus Christ?" He answered, in a whisper, "I do." It was his last word. They placed him on one of the steps and spoke to him, but he was no longer conscious. They then bore him into a room near by, where he died.--_De Amicis: "Holland."_

The assassin was put to death by the Dutch, but his parents were ennobled and richly rewarded by Philip II. of Spain. Philip had offered a reward for the prince's murder, and five separate attempts had been made previously to kill him.