CHAPTER XXV

DEATH OF HIS SON.

1856. Ar this moment Cobden was stricken by one of those crue!
Air. 52. blows from which men and women often recover, but after
which they are never again what they were before. He lost
his only son, a boy of singular energy and promise. Tbe
boy, who was now fifteen years old, was at school at Wein”
heim, about fourteen miles from Heidelberg. He was suddenly
seized by an attack of scarlet fever, and died in the course
of three or four days (April 6, 1856), before his parents 8
home even knew that he was ill. There was nothing t
soften the horror of the shock. Cobden was the first 10
hear of what had happened. His friend, Chevalier Bunset
had recommended the school, a few miles away from Charlottenburg,
 his own residence. The schoolmaster sent Bunsen
a telegraphic message, and took for granted that Bunse?
would communicate with Cobden. Bunsen, on the other
hand, took it for granted that the news would be sent bY
the schoolmaster. The result was that Cobden heard
nothing until he heard all. In a letter to one of the most
intimate of his friends, he told how the blow fell :—
“I had invited Colonel Fitzmayer from the Crimea tO
breakfast at nine on the Thursday. When I came down from
my sleeping-room in Grosvenor Street, I found him and the
breakfast waiting. My letters were lying on the table, and
1 apologized for opening them before beginning our meals