The burial of Dr. Wright at Norfolk.
We have published a brief account of the funeral of Dr. D. M. Wright, who was hung at Norfolk. It was from the pens of correspondents of Northern papers. The following account of the extra- ordinary scenes on the occasion is from Norfolk:Soon after the execution on Friday, Dr. R B. Tunstall, Dr. Henry Selden, P. P. Olements, Conway Whittle, Esq., and other friends, were on the ground to take charge of the body, which had been transferred to the family by General Barnes. From there the corpse was conveyed directly to Christ Church, dressed, shrouded, and laid out for friends to visit and see. Few but personal friends came on Friday, but on Saturday, from 8 to 4, one continuous, interminable stream of people was passing in at one end of the building and out in another direction, after having looked upon the features of the demised. The features wore an expression remarkably anomalous. In similar cases, the face wears a disturbed and blackened appearance — tongue protruding and other violent manifestations — but this instance was most singular, the features were placid, unmoved and natural; only a discolored ring beneath the collar. This remarkable fact was evidently caused by instantly dying.
The coffin received from the ladies the most tasteful, artistic, and floral wreathing we ever saw bestowed upon an object of the kind. A beautiful green tracery, with several wreathed circlets, as, lateral dressing, encircled the entire coffin, while the top was adorned by an artistic formation of an exterior or ledge trimming of evergreen, "cloth of gold, " roses, and flowerets, of the purest white ness. The centre contained a miniature pyramid, the lower portion formed of garlands of beautifully arranged roses, surmounted by a caption of thick verdure; on each side of which were crucifixes, superbly formed of these minute flowers, with rose centre. A similar pyramid covered the head of the coffin.
Saturday afternoon, at 4 o'clock, the funeral took place from Christ Church. Services opened after the usual Episcopal formula — organist performing a dirge, and ministers, followed by friends and family, entering the centre aisle and approaching the altar--Rev. Mr. Parkman reading the customary service. The family seated — of which some five were present, Mr.Talbot and Mrs. Talbot, the eldest daughter, and two children — the ministers passed the chancel, and Rev. Mr. Okeson, read the 15th chapter of Paul's 1st Epistle to the Corinthians. Mr. Rodman then gave out the 184th hymn at the conclusion of which he offered up a prayer touchingly relevant.
Notwithstanding the violence of the storm that raged the entire day with only short intervals of abatement, the capacious edifice was thronged with about two thousand citizens of both sexes, the larger proportion being ladies. A line of carriages, about three blocks long, followed the hearse, a string of pedestrians of equal, if not greater length, following in immediate proximity. Ladies, who had not procured conveyance, defied the weather's inclemency, and risked mud, which sank over shoe-top, in their determined resolution to attend the last sad rites.
He was interred in Elmwood Cemetery, to the right of the avenue, in an apparently ordinary burial excavation, but which had been peculiarly prepared by having the foundation vaulted with brick and cement. Into this the remains were lowered, and then arched over with brick by the mason before being filled. As the body sank to its "last earthly-rest," the air was filled with torturing and excruciating wails of grief, that came up from almost rended hearts — filial love could scarcely hear the parting — and as each rude knock, from careless handling, sounded against the coffin, it fell like a shock unbearable upon the already prostrate feelings, and there went up a piercing cry of acute agony. The two beautiful crucifixes of flowers is were lifted from the lid and placed in the keeping of his devoted daughters. Finally, in slow but solemn accents, the last duty was performed--"the last record of his earthly history"--proclaiming that "dust had returned to dust," "ashes to ashes," "earth to earth!"
The following is published in the Portsmouth (Va.) Old Dominion as Dr. W.'s account of the rencontre, given in prison:
‘ "On the afternoon of the 17th of June I was suddenly aroused from a most profound slumber by my daughter roughly shaking me and urging my instant rising to witness a negro company, a sight so revolting to Southern instincts, then passing in front of my house. It did not excite or agitate me, and I soon after took the hand of my little boy and proceeded down the street. Before I had gone far I felt a kind of intimation that trouble from the excitement produced by this innovation might result, and to be personally protected I returned and procured the pistol used, but not then feeling the least consciousness I should really offer violence to any one. Stopping in a store on Main street, I noticed the procession returning, and as it passed me, in the depth of my aroused disgust and odium, I hissed to the officer as he passed. 'O, you coward!' The Lieutenant then walked to the head of his company, halted, and, turning, hastened up to me and said, 'You may consider yourself under arrest.' The Lieutenant still advancing, I placed my hand behind me, which in all countries is recognized as a warning that the accosted is armed. Maddened by his persistent determination, believing that he had ordered his negroes to seize and forcibly convey me to the Custom-House, I drew and fired upon my assailant twice in quick succession, when he grasped the barrel of the weapon and held it in a position pointing right to the centre of his stomach. Reason and reflection immediately came to my relief, and I muttered incoherently — If I draw this trigger I kill this man. Wishing to avoid such a direful consequence, I desisted. At this juncture the crowd rushed upon me, the officer staggered, fell and expired, and it was a culprit"
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