At five o'clock on Thursday morning, January 23, he woke, feeling terrible pain and great distress in breathing, but would not ring for his servant because he believed him to be delicate, and thought it might hurt him to be disturbed so early. At seven he rang, and Dr. Roberts, who was telegraphed for, at once saw that the situation was of the gravest. Sir Lauder Brunton also was summoned. Leighton's servant had promised his sisters that they should be sent for at once if the symptoms at any time became more acute; but on his mentioning this, Leighton said he must not send for Mrs. Orr and Mrs. Matthews, as they were both more ill than he was. However, as the morning went on and there were no signs of any change for the better, the sisters were told of his condition, and at once came—not leaving him till the end.
On Thursday afternoon, when he was supposed to be sinking, and they were with him alone, he expressed his wishes as to his property—the sums of money he wished given to various friends—adding that he should like ten thousand pounds to be given to the Royal Academy. These were wishes expressed—not legacies, as he left his whole property unconditionally to his sisters, and believed that they, as next-of-kin, would, as a matter of course, be his heirs.
Contrary to the doctor's expectations, Leighton rallied on the Friday, and hopes were expressed that he might recover from the acute attack from which he was suffering. On his hearing this, he exclaimed to his sisters, "Would it not have been a pity if I had had to die just when I was going to paint better!"
On the Saturday morning the gravest symptoms returned, and every hope vanished. It was then suggested to Leighton that it would be better for him to make a will, and his lawyer was sent for; but it was some time before he could arrive. Though the agony was great, Leighton refused all alleviations till his will was written out. It was as follows:—
This is the last will and testament of Frederic Leighton. I will and bequeath to my sisters, Alexandra Orr and Augusta Newnburg Matthews, the whole estate unconditionally.
Fred Leighton.
Mrs. Orr wrote: "When the official will had been drawn up and signed, he said, 'Does this give my sisters absolute control over all I have?' On the lawyer answering in the affirmative, Leighton asked, 'Then no one can interfere with them?' 'No one,' answered the lawyer; 'they are paramount.' He was afraid that the brief paragraph was not sufficiently strong."
After signing it, he said, "My love to the Academy"; but his last words were spoken in German, and meant for his sisters' ears alone. Then came the end.
"We went together," writes Lady Loch, "to see Fred Leighton the Sunday before he died, and he said, 'Mind you come to "my concert." I have just settled it all with Villiers Stanford, and it will be beautiful.'" In about ten days after, with aching hearts at the loss of so true, so warm, so great a friend, we attended his burial service at St. Paul's Cathedral, seeing such proofs of real mourning all along the Embankment and streets, for indeed every man, woman, and child had lost a real, true friend.