Theodore Dreiser - The Stoic

Accordingly, the next day at noon, the funeral cortege began forming in front of the Cowperwood mansion. Groups of people gathered on the streets outside to observe the spectacle. Following the hearse was the carriage containing Aileen, Frank A. Cowperwood, Jr., and Cowperwood’s daughter, Anna Templeton. And then, one by one, the other carriages moved into line, and proceeded along the highway, under an overcast sky, until finally they passed through the gates to Greenwood Cemetery. The gravel drive gradually mounted a long incline, bordered by heavy trees, behind which ranged stones and monuments of all descriptions. About a quarter of mile in, as the drive continued to rise, a roadway branched off to the right, and a few hundred feet farther on, between great trees, the tomb loomed solemnly high and majestic.

It stood alone, no other monument being within thirty feet of it, a gray, austere, and northern version of a Greek temple. Four graceful columns of modified Ionic design formed the “porch” and supported a plain triangular pediment, without decoration or religious symbol of any sort. Above the doors of the tomb, in heavy square-cut letters, was his name: FRANK ALGERNON COWPERWOOD. The three graduated platforms of granite were piled high with flowers, and the massive bronze double doors stood wide open, awaiting the arrival of the distinguished occupant. As all must have felt who viewed it for the first time, this was a severely impressive artistic achievement in the matter of design, for its tall and stately serenity seemed to dominate the entire area.

And as her carriage came into full view of the tomb, Aileen was again and finally impressed by her husband’s power of self-presentation. But even as she thought this, she closed her eyes, as if trying to shut out the sight of the tomb, and seeking to revive her last impression of him as he stood vividly alive and self-assertive before her. Her carriage waited until the hearse had reached the door of the tomb, and the heavy bronze casket was carried up and placed among the flowers, before the minister’s rostrum. Following that, the occupants of the carriages emerged and crossed over to a large marquee tent set up in front of the tomb, under the shelter of which benches and chairs awaited them.

In one of the carriages Berenice sat silently beside Dr. James, gazing at the tomb that was to seal her beloved away from her forever. Tears she could not cry, and would not. For why seek to oppose an avalanche which had already gone so far as to obliterate the import of life itself, for her? At any rate, such was her mood or reaction to all of this. However, a word that repeated itself over and over in her mind was the word “Endure! Endure! Endure!”

After all of the friends and relatives had settled themselves, the Episcopal clergyman, Reverend Hayward Crenshaw, came forward and took his place on the rostrum, and in a few moments, when all had become very quiet, he began to speak, his utterances grave and clear:

“I am the resurrection and the life, saith the Lord; he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live; And whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die.

“I know that my Redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth; and though this body be destroyed, yet shall I see God; whom I shall see for myself, and mine eyes shall behold, and not as a stranger.

“We brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we can carry nothing out. The Lord gave and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.

“Behold, thou hast made my days as it were a span long; and mine age is even as nothing in respect of thee; and verily every man living is altogether vanity.

“For man walketh in a vain shadow, and disquieteth himself in vain: he heapeth up riches, and cannot tell who shall gather them.

“And now, Lord, what is my hope: truly my hope is even in Thee.

“When thou with rebukes doth chasten man for sin. Thou makest his beauty to consume away, like as it were a moth fretting a garment: every man therefore is but vanity.

“Lord, thou has been our refuge from one generation to another.

“Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever the earth and the world were made; Thou art God from everlasting and world without end.

“Thou turnest man to destruction: again Thou sayest, Come again, ye children of men.

“For a thousand years in Thy sight are but as yesterday; when it is past, and as a watch in the night.

“As soon as thou scatterest them they are even as asleep; and fade away suddenly like the grass.

“In the morning it is green, and groweth up; but in the evening it is cut down, dried up, and withered.

“For we consume away in Thy displeasure, and are afraid of Thy wrathful indignation.

“Thou hast set aside our misdeeds before Thee; and our secret sins in the light of Thy countenance.

“For when Thou art angry, all our days are gone; we bring our years to an end, as it were a tale that is told.

“The days of our age are three score years and ten; and though men be so strong that they come to four score years; yet is their strength then but labor and sorrow; so soon passeth it away, and we are gone.

“O teach us to number our days: that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom.

“Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost.

“As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be: world without end, Amen.”

The casket then lifted by the pallbearers and carried into the tomb and placed in the sarcophagus, while the minister knelt and prayed. Aileen having refused to enter, the other mourners remained with her. And shortly afterward, when the minister came outside, the heavy bronze doors were closed, and the burial services for Frank Algernon Cowperwood were over.

The clergyman went over to Aileen to offer a few words of comfort; the friends and relatives began to leave, and soon the space about the tomb was empty. However, Dr. James and Berenice lingered a while in the shadow of a large birch tree, and then walked slowly down the slope along a winding path, as Berenice did not wish to leave with the others. Walking down the path some hundred feet, Berenice looked back to see the last resting place of her beloved, as it stood high and proud in anonymity, the name not being visible from where she stood. High and proud, and yet small, under the protective elms grown tall around it.

Because of the troubled state of her mind following the illness and death of Cowperwood, Berenice decided that it would be best for her to remove to her own home on Park Avenue, which had been closed during her absence in England. Now that she was uncertain as to her future, she would use it as a retreat, temporarily, at least, from prying contacts with the local press. Dr. James agreed with her decision, believing that it would be best for him also if he could truthfully say that she had departed and he did not know her present whereabouts: a ruse that subsequently worked very well, for having answered a number of times that he knew nothing more than the newspapers did, the inquiries ceased as far as he was concerned.

Nonetheless, from time to time there began to appear in print, references, not only to her disappearance, but her possible whereabouts. Had she returned to London? And to make sure of that, the London papers queried whether she had returned to her former residence at Pryor’s Cove: a series of inquiries that brought the unsatisfactory news that although her mother was there, she stated that she knew nothing of her daughter’s plans, and that they would have to wait until she obtained that information herself. This reply was prompted by the receipt of a cable from Berenice requesting her mother to furnish no information until she heard from her.