Signe’s Death

During the first few days in Tällberg, Mittag-Leffler was in good spirits and filled with plans. Then suddenly, on the night of January 8, he awoke with intense rheumatic pains. The influenza grew worse and developed into pneumonia with complications. From Stockholm two doctors were summoned: first Floderus and then Hultgren. The latter thought the situation was serious, and he stayed for a couple of days. The local physician, Dr. Hildebrand, also looked in on the patient, who had a nurse with him at all times. When he was able to sit up in bed after a couple of weeks, Mittag-Leffler wrote: “My brain is empty and will no doubt remain so, and then life is no longer of any interest to me.” He recalled that on the worst night he was given an injection that had flooded him with a glorious warmth at the same time that his lower body turned cold, and an attempt was made to resuscitate him. He felt that he was in the process of “making the transition to the other world” where “utter light and clarity and truth” awaited him. He felt happy and glad and “everything from the past, his entire life was as if washed away.” Nevertheless, he began noting down fragments of his life, his “poor, tattered life,” as it had appeared to him during sleepless nights. He had seen and understood his mistakes, he had suffered and felt tormented. The only solace had been he had always aimed for something beyond the personal, and he had always loved Sweden with an affection that was so strong the mere thought still caused his poor heart “agony, as if enveloped in flames.” When he long ago had turned down a position in Berlin, it was in order to “find his way” to Stockholm, via Helsingfors.