From *Memoirs of John Barton:
"I now return to the summer of 1857. That long vacation Frank Wright and I had agreed to spend together at Braemar in Aberdeenshire, inviting Beddine and Roger E. Clark, both of Trinity, to join us. On my way northwards at the end of June I was to spend a few days with him at Osmaston Hall [He means Osmaston Manor, which is different from Osmaston Hall]. When I arrived there I found them all in deep anxiety on account of the very serious illness of the eldest daughter, Agnes, a most beloved daughter and sister, and one whom it was indeed a privilege to have known and loved, her whole countenance betokening as it did the peace that reigned within and he unselfish thoughtfulness for the comfort of everyone making her the greatest help to her dear shy retiring mother and her somewhat over suppressed father.

I shall never forget those three or four days spent in that house – the solemn hush that fell upon us all as we realized that she was soon to enter the Better Land, and the calm cheerfulness which seemed to spread from that sick-room on all around, as if it would be wronging her and the dear Master whom she loved to wish for her aught else than He had appointed. I remember one afternoon going for a walk Henry Wright and we were talking of her when he suddenly exclaimed “Oh, Barton, I have been thinking so much today what a glorious thing it is to be a Christian!” And so indeed it was. It was in truth death swallowed up in victory. Dear Agnes had been ill ever since the early spring with some internal ailment. I had last seen her for a few minutes at St. Leonards at Easter. She looked then very frail and bore traces of much suffering but her face was peace. I would have like to see her once more if only for a moment but it was not to be and early in the morning of July 1st Henry came and told me that all was over. I had already arranged with Mr and Mrs. Gerard Smith who lived at the Parsonage close by to go to them so I quietly slipped out of the house and went over at once to them and remained there till the day of the funeral and a few days later I set out by way of Dovedale and Matlock on my way to Liverpool to catch the Glasgow steamer."