Horton Genealogy: or Chronicles of the Descendants of Barnabas Horton, of Southold, L. I., 1640.Horton, Geo. F. (George Firman)
History
Horton Genealogy: or Chronicles of the Descendants of Barnabas Horton, of Southold, L. I., 1640.
Horton, Geo. F. (George Firman)
Horton family
Worn and broken-hearted, the poor woman sat down by her
husband's side, and tried to strengthen herself for the task of
soothing and comforting his last hours, for she knew too well
that he could not live. Nineteen long hours she had searched
for him, and now to find him thus!
Few comforts were to be found in that hospital, though the
attendants, seeing her distress, evidently meant to treat
her kindly. Up to this time the wounded man had lain in the
warden's room, but on the next morning, which was Wednesday,
he was removed to a more airy apartment. The operation of
trepanning was then performed on his head, though with little
hope of permanent benefit. When this was over, and the burden
upon his brain was thus relieved, the sufferer looked up and
repeated,
"When I can read my title clear
To mansions in the skies,
I'll bid farewell to every fear,
And wipe my weeping eyes.
"Should earth against my soul engage--"
Here weakness prevented him, and he whispered to his wife,
"You finish it."
He slept a good deal, but seemed always conscious of his wife's
presence, frequently putting up his restless hand to touch
her face, and remind himself, in his blindness, of her loved
features. When he talked, it was of his unfinished work, his
conviction of the justice of the cause in which he fell, his
anxieties for his wife, left alone in a cruel world, and of his
enemies and murderers always forgivingly, as if they knew not
what they did. At different times, too, he spoke of the riot,
relating facts and incidents as I have set them down.
It afflicted him much to leave his wife penniless. He had had a
little money in his pocket when he came to the Convention, but
that, with the gold studs in his bosom, had been plundered by
some of the ruffians who took part in mutilating his person.
Thus he lingered until the sixth day after his injury. When
the morning of Sunday, the 5th of August, came, he remembered
that he had an appointment to exchange pulpits with a colored
brother in the city, and said,
"Emma, we must send word to Bro. Miles that I can't come. I
don't feel quite well enough to preach."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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