Letter from Mrs. Martin to Guérin CF 52
February 24, 1870,
My dear and beloved parents,
Your letter did me good. I am really grateful for all the interest you have shown me and I thank you for it. I resign myself to the will of God, although it is very hard to lose such a cute little girl (Little Hélène died on February 22, 1870, at the age of five years and four months); but what I regret the most and what I cannot console myself with is not having better understood his condition. I didn't think she was seriously ill. I had been accustomed for a long time to seeing her in pain, I cared for her as well as possible by giving her tonics which the doctor had recommended to me.
When I saw her recovering from a slight fever a fortnight ago, at first I thought it was a cold, I didn't worry about it. After five days, I call the doctor. He told me that he found no declared illness, and that he saw no need to come back, unless it got worse. And I was blind enough not to notice that the poor little girl was declining noticeably.
Saturday evening, she came down with us again; they always gave him fat broth with a little vermicelli and barley tea; she was so tired of it that the maid told me on Friday evening that it would be better to give her a light meal. I listened to that; the little one ate it twice on Saturday, she was so happy that I gave her another on Sunday, at noon; this is what I regret and will regret all my life; however, I don't think that was the cause of her death, as she was going away in languor.
Sunday evening the oppression took hold of her and I immediately sent for the doctor. He was not there and only came on Monday morning. He told me that the child had mucous fever with an engorged lung, that she was in very great danger and that she should only be given broth. However, he allowed me to add a little vermicelli or semolina to it, when I told her that she would not like to drink clear broth.
After she left, I looked at her sadly, her eyes were dull, there was no life, and I started crying. Then she surrounded me with her two little arms and comforted me as best she could; all day she did nothing but say, "My poor little mother who cried!" I spent the night near her, a very bad night. In the morning, she was asked if she wanted to take her broth; she said yes, but couldn't swallow it. However, she made a supreme effort, saying to me: "If I eat it, will you like me better?" »
So she took everything, but afterwards she suffered terribly and didn't know what to do. She was looking at a bottle of potion the doctor had ordered for her and wanted to drink it, saying that when it was all drunk, she would be cured. Then, around a quarter to ten, she said to me: "Yes, presently, I'm going to be cured, yes, right away..." At the same time, while I was supporting her, her little head fell on my shoulder, her eyes closed, then five minutes later she no longer existed...
It made an impression on me that I will never forget; I didn't expect this sudden ending, nor did my husband. When he came home, and saw his poor little girl dead, he began to sob, exclaiming: “My little Hélène! my little Helen! Then we offered it together to God.
And now I'm left with the stinging remorse of having fed him. My dear brother, do you think that is what caused him to die? I beg you, tell me, as you think, and yet I was very embarrassed, I was afraid that she would weaken too much.
A fortnight ago today, the maid's father came to our house. The little one had been unwell for three days; he said to his daughter: "You won't take care of her for long, she's a child who is dying of languor." He was right, and I couldn't see it! I sometimes gave her, to support her, toast with wine, she liked that so much, perhaps it was contrary to her, I blame myself for everything.
Before the funeral, I spent the night near this poor darling, she was even more beautiful dead than alive. It was I who dressed her and put her in the coffin; I thought I was going to die of it, but I didn't want the others to touch her. The church was full of people at his burial. His grave is next to that of his grandfather.
I am very sad, write to me if you can, to console me.
