Tímarit Þjóðræknisfélags Íslendinga - 01.01.1963, Side 123

Tímarit Þjóðræknisfélags Íslendinga - 01.01.1963, Side 123
albert thorvaldsen, sculptor 105 After arriving in Charlottenborg, Thorvaldsen was feted and hailed in every conceivable manner. There Were grand receptions, addresses of tribute and hundreds of messages írom far and wide. One of these, coming from the United States of America, was a message from Thom- as H. Webb, secretary of the Rhode Island Historical Society, informing him that he had been elected Hon- orary Fellow of the Society on ac- c°unt of being the only living de- scendant of the first European born in North America! The letter said ihat through the researches of The Hoyal Norse Archaeological Society, contained in the book, “American Antiquities”, now reposing in the library of Harvard University, there ^as found a genealogical table trac- in§ the ancestry of Thorvaldsen to one Thorfinnur Karlsefni who had dwelt one winter at Mount Hope, Rhode Island, in the year 1006-7, with his wife Guðíður, and his whole household. There Guðríður bore a son named Snorri, and from him, ln direct line, is descended the sculp- tor, Bertel Thorvaldsen, and as such ls a sort of deputy or representative °í Snorri, the first white child born °n American soil. Thorvaldsen was delighted with this lettter, in spite of its small in- accuracies, and said this was the ipst time he had been honored be- cause of his ancestry! In fact he is •Icscended, eighth in line, from the notable man of rank, letters and art, Guðbrandur, Bispuk of Hólar Bish- °Pric in Iceland. Thorvaldsen had dwelt in Rome or forty-two years, and had come to the evening of his days, and a placid and beautiful evening it was! He made his home for the last five years of his life on the delightful estate of Count Stampe and his wife at Nysö. His health was good, his mental faculties unimpaired, and he still worked at his beloved sculp- ture. He made a short trip to Rome in 1841, to arrange for the sending to Copenhagen the last of his collec- tion. He had watched the building of the Thorvaldsen Museum, which was now almost completed on the outside. “Now I am ready to go to another Eternal City, for Bindesböll has prepared the resting place for my earthly body”, he said shortly before his death. That evening he attended a per- formance at the Royal Opera House, in good spirits and contented with his lot. He greeted numerous friends as he was on his way to his box seat, and sat down ready to enjoy the performance. As the orchestra played the overture and before the curtain went up, a friend saw him bend down as if to pick something off the floor; just as he was about to sink down on the floor, those near rushed to his aid, and carried him silently to the foyer. The heart had stopped beating; he had already passed away. This was on Sunday, March 24th, 1844. He would have been seventy-four years old had he lived until the fall, as he was born in 1770, reputedly on a Danish mer- chant vessel just out from Skagaf- jörður. The funeral was impressive and solemn, and he was laid temporarily to rest in the burial vault of the
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