The labours in which Miss Sieveking now engaged form a deeply interesting chapter in the history of philanthropy, but they must not be detailed here. Suffice it to say that her society was attended with the most blessed results. She at first found some difficulty in obtaining coadjutors, although she required nothing “beyond sound sense, a certain amount of bodily strength, and a knowledge of domestic matters—except love to the cause and a living principle of Christianity.”
Miss Sieveking’s robust bodily constitution and elastic spirits enabled her for many years to sustain the pressure of charitable work in its many branches. But in 1857, her strength began to fail; the physicians were unanimous in advising a journey to some watering-place, and Soden, near Frankfort-on-the-Maine, was recommended. In 1858, her active employments were gradually and with great reluctance given up, and for many months she had to learn the harder lesson of waiting patiently on the Lord in weakness and suffering.
On the 1st of January, 1859, she felt so ill, that she took leave of her servants with the words, “We part in tears, but we shall meet again with smiles.” Some time afterwards, her physician, at the request of her nephew, Dr. Sieveking, in London, examined the state of her lungs, and declared that he found things even worse than he expected; one half of the lungs was entirely gone, and only so much left as that, with entire silence and perfect rest, her life might perhaps be prolonged for a short time. Miss Sieveking thanked him, but remarked that as long as she was alive, she would act like a living person, and see and speak to her friends. On the 1st of April, after the reading of the psalm, “Like as the hart panteth after the water brooks,” she folded her hands, and said, “My Lord! my Lord!” Her work on earth was done, and she entered on the higher service above.
In order to conquer the prejudice of the poor people against a pauper funeral, she had desired to be buried as a poor person; and out of respect to her wishes, the plain coffin, made of four black boards, was carried by the two appointed pauper bearers, on the pauper’s bier, to the churchyard of the parish of Ham and Horn, and set down on the church path. It was soon covered with flowers and garlands, while a vast assembly, composed of all classes, flocked out of the city and the suburbs. Pastor Rautenberg spoke some impressive words, and the minister of the parish, Pastor Mumssen, uttered the concluding prayer and blessing. Then, as if from the depths, arose the chant of the brethren and the children, and amidst the sounds of the doxology and the apostolic benediction, the coffin was lowered into the vault of the Sieveking family.