Marie C. HAYTER

Shawano County Journal

Friday, 26 Feb 1886

DIED - At Shawano, Wisconsin, Feb. 20th, 1886, MRS. HARRY HAYTER, nee Marie C. McCord, aged 19 years, 7 months and 24 days. No event that has happened in this city has cast a deeper pall of gloom over the entire community than that mentioned in the above brief announcement. Here she was born and reared and grew to womanhood, and now that she is dead it is but truth to say she had not an enemy in the world "none knew her but to love." None pained her but to praise, and if each and every friend in return for some act of kindness were to place a flower upon her grave, she would sleep tonight beneath a bed of roses. From the time she was a prattling child, until the day of her death, she was the same thoughtful, considerate and affectionate little lady thoughtful of how to serve and please her parents and friends; considerate of the wants and feelings of everybody, and affectionate to those with whom she came into the closest relations of life.

 

She graduated at the high school of our city in the class of 1884, and the next year attended the Milwaukee Female College. During that year she experienced a period of sickness almost the first of her life from which she never fully recovered and by which some think the germs of disease were planted that resulted in her death. On the 8th day of October last she was married to Harry C. Hayter, one of our most respected young men, who is now almost heart-broken and refuses to be comforted. Nearly three months ago she was confined to her room and soon after to her bed with some disease, the exact nature of which seemed to baffle the skill of the most eminent physicians that could be obtained. From this illness, which at no period seemed to be serious or bode danger until the very last days, she never recovered. The very last stages of her illness threw light upon her ailment, and it was then discovered, but, alas too late, to be that dreaded and almost fatal disease, chronic or latent peritonitis. Had her malady been of the acute form, or given out true signs at an earlier stage it might have been successfully treated but as it is it did not, all that human skill could do was ineffectual. For this, however, her friends have no cause for repining or regrets, for all that the best medical skill, and all that good nursing and the unremitting care of a host of friends could do for her was done. It is said; death loves a bright and shining mark if so it has chosen well in this instance.

 

No young life within the scope of our acquaintance, all things considered, started out with brighter or better prospects of long life and happiness, only to be cut off in its very incipiency. Her character was well illustrated during her illness. For nearly three months die she lay almost helpless upon her sick bed, wasting away to almost a skeleton, and yet during all that time she never uttered a single complaint or gave a cross or peevish word or look. Such patience, such gentleness, such considerate and universal kindness, exhibited an example fit for an angel to follow; and when her spirit took its flight hence one could almost hear the angels of Heaven clap their hands with Joy. It seems hard to part with such as she, but it was the will of God, the will that all must sooner or later bow to, and we that are left to mourn departed ones can only say, "0, God, thy will be done," and submit with a Christian resignation in the hope of meeting again in that brighter and better world, "in a house not made with hands, eternal in the skies."

 

She leaves behind to mourn her sad and untimely death, a husband whose heart and head is bowed down with grief, a father who was at her bed side during the more serious part of her illness administering to her wants in every way he could, a mother, two sisters and a brother, whose hearts are bleeding with anguish at their irreparable loss, and a host of dear relatives and kind friends who would have gladly made any sacrifice that she might live. Truly, "the ways of Providence are mysterious and past finding out," but since it is so let us hope it may be for the best and summit to its decrees with perfect resignation. Never but once during her long illness and that just before she died was she conscious of approaching dissolution. At that time she called her husband to her bedside and said, "Must I leave my darling?" He told her he feared the worst. She then asked him "Will we meet in Heaven?" but it was only for a moment that his thought was on her mind until she passed into an unconscious state, and with the words, papa, papa, papa, on her lips, without a struggle, without agony, without pain, her spirit took its flight. She was laid away in a beautiful cedar casket, covered with white velvet, in a grave lined with evergreens, and ere this not doubt her spirit has been wafted on high to the God who gave it. She was followed to her last resting place by a very large concourse of people, all anxious to pay homage at the last sad rites of their departed friend. Dearest one thou hast gone just a little before us. May thy spirit be speedily taken on high to dwell with the angels, and they ashes rest in peace. Farewell. Requiescal in peace.