‘TO MY DAUGHTER FANNY.
‘To you, my dear, I inscribe this comedy, because you approved, nay, was partial enough to admire the scenes, progressively, as they were written, and the play, when it became a whole. I inscribe it to you, because you have dedicated your talents, by your literary efforts, to the cause of morality, and have need of that patient resignation to which every writer is doomed. I inscribe it to you, and in this sense to my whole family, with sympathetic tenderness, as a solitary testimony of true and ardent affection: as such, I am well persuaded you will all receive it, though it has been publicly condemned. You will remember the giver; and the gift, though barren, will be welcome.’
Besides the plays which have been enumerated, Mr Holcroft, after his return to England, published ‘the Theatrical Recorder,’ in two volumes, a small volume of Poems, called ‘Tales in Verse,’ and the novel of ‘Brian Perdue.’
Mr Holcroft, at the time of the failure of his last play, had several dramatic, as well as other manuscripts in hand, which, had he been allowed to finish them, would have easily relieved him from his temporary embarrassments. He had however a young and increasing family to maintain; and the ill health, with which he had long struggled, now encreased fast upon him, and rendered all his efforts vain.
Mr Holcroft had, for nearly a year, been so much troubled with an asthma, as to render walking difficult to him. He was not, however, confined to his house till about half a year before his death. His disorder was violent spasms, accompanied with spitting of blood, and an enlargement of the heart, occasioned, as was supposed, by continual anxiety. It was during the two last months of his illness, when he could no longer rise from his bed, and when every effort to speak was almost convulsive, that he dictated the account of his own life, which has been inserted in the beginning of these volumes. Let it remain a proof of the energy of his character, and of that superiority of the mind over the body, which was one of his strongest sentiments. Through the whole time he discovered a fortitude in suffering, which has rarely been equalled: nor did he till the very last relinquish the hopes of recovering. If any thing could exceed the patient courage with which he passed through this trying scene, it was the affectionate, unwearied assiduity with which Mrs. Holcroft attended him night and day, through the whole. For the last six weeks, she scarcely once quitted his bed-side for a quarter of an hour together. The task was one, to which duty and affection were alone equal. In any other circumstances, her strength would have failed under such exertions: but Mr Holcroft was not satisfied unless she was with him, and that consideration prevailed over every other. Colonel Harwood, his son-in-law, was with him from the Sunday evening before he died; on which day, his physicians, Dr. Buchan and Dr. Hooper, had given him over. Many of the following particulars are taken from Colonel Harwood’s account.
There was not the shortest interval in which he was not in complete possession of himself. The only slight indication to the contrary was that he once said to the Colonel, ‘I have great difficulty sometimes in rousing my mind; therefore, if at any time I stop in speaking to you, do you remember my last word, and join it to the next that I shall afterwards say to you.’ This however rather implied his strong efforts to preserve his intellects, than the failure of them. His stopping at any time in the midst of a sentence appeared to be always owing to the difficulty of articulation, rather than the loss of memory. When he was so far gone, that it was difficult to understand him, he desired those who were with him to repeat his words, that he might be sure they were heard, and then nodded assent.
On Sunday he expressed a wish to see Mr Godwin, but when he came, his feelings were overpowered. He could not converse, and only pressed his hand to his bosom, and said, ‘My dear, dear friend!’ On Monday, he again wished to see Godwin, and all his friends that could be sent to: but he had not strength sufficient to hold a conversation: he could only take an affectionate leave, and then he said, he had nothing more to do in this world. He afterwards frequently spoke, or moved his lips, as taking a most affectionate leave. A little before he died, he called for wine, and refused it from every hand that held it to him, till his eldest daughter took it into hers, he then bowed his head to her, and drank it; thus, in some way or other, shewing signs of regard to all, till his last moments approached. Hearing a noise of children on the stairs, he said to his wife, ‘Are those your children, Louisa?’ as if he was already disengaged from human ties. On Thursday night, about half past eleven, he seemed in great pain, and said to Mrs. Holcroft, ‘How tedious, My affections are strong.’ It was thought from this that it would be a relief to his feelings, that they should retire: they all went into the next room, Colonel Harwood still keeping his eye upon him; but seeing his struggles increase, and being desirous to spare his wife and daughter a sight they could not have borne, he returned into the bedroom, and gradually shut and fastened the doors, which Mr Holcroft observing, shewed evident signs of satisfaction. And seeming then easier, he smiled, and fixing his eyes on his friend, took them no more from him, till they were closed for ever.—Thus died a great and good man, who shewed in the last and most trying scene of all the same firmness of mind, and warmth of affection, which had distinguished him through life.
Mr Holcroft died on Thursday, the 23rd of March, 1809, at the age of 63.
The following is the report which Dr. A. P. Buchan, and Mr A. Carlisle, favoured Colonel Harwood with, who also attended the examination.
‘London, March 24th, 1809.