“It is with a heavy heart that I write to tell you
that you have lost your friend Whitbread; and though I hardly know how to name it, yet I must add
that he destroyed himself in a paroxysm of derangement from the aneurism in the
brain. He had been for the last month in a low and irritable state. The damned
theatre and all its concerns, the vexatious opposition he met with, and the
state of worry in which he was left—all conspired together to [illegible] his understanding as to lead to this fatal
step. On Wednesday night the 5th I had a note from him written in his own hand,
and as usual. He spoke on Tuesday in the H. of Commons more in his usual style
than of late. . . . On Wednesday he passed all the evening with Burgess the solicitor, discussing the theatre
concerns—walking up and down the room in great agitation, accusing
himself of being the ruin of thousands. As you may well imagine, he did not
sleep,
| 242 | THE CREEVEY PAPERS | [Ch XI. |
