William Morris Hunt: Tragedy

"The Listeners" by William Morris Hunt

"For years William Morris Hunt's health had not been firm. From the year of the burning of his studio in Boston, he had scarcely known a day of perfect health or of freedom from anxiety. It certainly had not helped when he had gathered together all his work and opened a wonderful exhibition in his studio. Not one picture sold, and of only one was the price asked. It was one of the most poetical of his renderings of the scenery of Niagara. 'I should be glad to get $750 for it,' said Hunt, but the picture was not bought. In less than a year's time, after his death, it was sold for $7500.

As midsummer approached a visit to the cottage of life-long friends, the Thaxters, was planned. Cecilia Thaxter wrote of it: 

'In the sweet summer weather, he passed all hours of the day, watching the glowing colors in the little garden or the beautiful sea and sky, or lying in one of the hammocks listening to the lovely music of piano and violin that floated out to him from within; or chatting pleasantly with this or that friend of the many who drew close about him, glad to have the privilege of listening to his wonderful speech. So the bright days passed, and I am sure that he must have found some pleasure in them, feeling himself so wholly beloved, honored, and appreciated by all.'

No especial apprehension was felt about him until the sad Monday of September 8th when tragedy fell. In a letter to the New York Tribune, Cecilia Thaxter explained:

'At the top of the ledge behind the cottage is a sheet of tranquil water, open to the sky and reflecting its every tint and change as perfectly as the great ocean beyond it. Round it the fragrant barberry bushes cluster thickly, and until late, the wild roses blossom in sweetness... Here on that Monday morning, when all our little world was seeking him, I found all that was left of our beautiful friend, floating upon his face... Unavailing efforts to resuscitate him were made, but life had been gone for some hours.'

Those who knew Hunt best understood that the cause of his death was one of the fits of vertigo to which he had frequently been subject. For several years he had not trusted himself to ford a river or to look from a great height. He sometimes stopped when going down stairs, feeling the possibility of an attack. Doubtless, while standing by the reservoir, he was seized by one of these attacks, and, leaning upon the staff of his umbrella, which seems to have broken under his weight, fell face down upon the water. A surgeon in attendance declared that he had fallen into the water while unconscious.

The funeral took place at the Unitarian Church in Brattleboro, Vermont, on the 11th of September. It was largely attended by relatives and friends, and among the latter were many well-known artists from Boston and New York. His grave is on the brow of the hill where one looks off across the tree-hidden village to the Connecticut River and to the mountains which mark the horizon on the north. It is covered by a heavy slab of polished granite, which bears the simple inscription: 'William Morris Hunt, born March 31, 1824; died Sept. 8, 1879.'"

(Excerpts from Helen Mary Knowlton's book "The Art-Life of William Morris Hunt.")