Harry had never been robust. He had been working at stained glass since he was fourteen. It was not the healthiest of professions, but one he had brought to extraordinary levels this far in his lifetime. There was a history of tuberculosis in the family and that was rampant in Ireland as well. Time was running out on him now, the disease was advanced and affecting both lungs.

Sanatorium in Davos
He was only 41 years of age and confined for most of the preceding years in a Swiss sanatorium in Davos. He was in constant touch with his Dublin studios, where a staff of seventeen were still turning out the windows that he had designed and drawn, but these were getting past their deadlines. It was being concealed as far as possible that he was ill and out of the country because his name was the greatest asset the Studios had and would have for many decades after his death. Urgent work had been commissioned from New Jersey, Britain, and all over Ireland.

The Geneva Window
One particular piece of glass he had done was particularly concerning him now in his Swiss alpine surroundings in these early days of 1931. The Irish Government had withheld payment for a window commissioned as early as 1925 and now completed. It was to be placed on behalf of the government in the new International Labour Organisation building in Geneva. William T Cosgrave, president of the executive council of the Irish Free State, was a friend and regular visitor to the Studios. Now he was in a dilemma. Although he realised the window was a masterpiece, he could not persuade his cabinet to have the window fitted abroad unless the panel depicting Liam O’Flaherty’s ‘Mr. Gilhooley’ was deleted. As a writer, O’Flaherty had been banned under an act of censorship passed by the Dail in 1928. Clarke’s other depictions of the work of eighteen Irish writers caused little offence and were deemed acceptable, with the possible exception of O’Casey’s Joxer Daly, who was depicted with a bottle of Guinness.
With all of Harry’s mounting medical bills, payment for the commission was anxiously awaited at Davos. Harry’s wife, Margaret, had visited Davos in late 1930 and brought back a charming letter to their three children. The family had a lovely Tudor style house with wooden balconies, on the North Circular Road. Harry had strained his finances greatly to secure as healthy a spot as possible, beside Dublin’s green lung in the Phoenix Park. 
Harry had exhausted himself in all the work he had tried to complete and had continued to work on from Davos, with drawings and designs for the mounting backlog of work on hand in the North Frederick Street Dublin Studios. His wife was assisting Harry’s sister Dolly in keeping the Studios running in his absence. Now a big decision had to be taken to appoint a Mr Simmonds from England, a talented stained glass artist, as general manager to run the Studios. A large order for 40 windows had come from New Jersey and Harry had managed to complete 9 of these in 1929 before returning to Davos in October 1930.

Journey To Davos
Harry’s friend Lennox Robinson, future director of the Abbey Theatre, had accompanied him on the tortuous journey by sea and train across Europe to Davos .En route they had spent a night in Paris. Harry had met a fascinating lady there, had a few glasses of wine and cigarettes that he should not have had in his condition. Lennox made no effort to intervene as he realised at that stage that Harry’s time might not afford any more such happy interludes. The year of 1930 that was ending had been very sad for the whole Clarke family as Harry’s elder brother, Walter, had died of pneumonia. In May that year, Lennox, as Harry’s advisor, had split up the family business between the two brothers with Walter taking the church decorating side and keeping the name of the Joshua Clarke Studios. Harry Clarke would from then on manage the Harry Clarke Studios. This arrangement was all in disarray now to add to the family’s troubles.

Christmas 1930
Harry had not enjoyed Christmas that year in 1930 as he was very ill and homesick.  He had been very popular with the Irish and English patients in Davos and had been elected president of their society. His knowledge, Dublin wit and Irish charm had always attracted a large group around him. However he had a premonition and hence a fear of dying in a foreign country and so he wanted above all else to get back home to Dublin.

Journey to Coire
As it happened, Harry’s friend, John Duncan, had come visiting and Harry resolved to return to Dublin with him on January 5th 1931.  It was deepest winter and there was an initial long journey to get a train connection to Paris. They got to a village called Coire and as Harry was in no condition to travel further they had to secure accommodation for the night. However Harry had strained himself too much from the journey and died in his sleep. He was 41 years old. Harry’s last journey had proved to be a short one.

News of the Death
The news of Harry’s death travelled fast. Lennox Robinson had phoned Harry’s wife to break the news. At the same time a telegram boy arrived at 48 North Circular Road with the dreadful news. Harry’s eldest son, Michael, had opened the door for the message just before leaving home for a school pantomime rehearsal in Belvedere College, where Harry himself had been a pupil. Michael went off on the tram in an effort to fulfil his engagement but was sent home in distress. He returned to a sad but crowded house and realised that his worse nightmare had really happened and he would never see his father alive again.

Funeral at Coire
Margaret and Lennox set off immediately for Coire to attend a very small funeral consisting of only a few of the doctors and patients from Davos. Harry was buried in the churchyard there. A simple headstone was later placed over the grave by his wife.
At home the country was shocked by the news as many had not known of Harry’s illness at all.  Lavish tributes were paid to Ireland’s greatest ‘symbolist’ artist, as he had been styled, and one of the world’s greatest stained glass artists and book illustration specialists.

Fate of ‘The Geneva window’
In the wake of all the mourning the government paid over the money due for the “Geneva” window to Harry’s widow, but they did not allow it to be displayed at Government Buildings, where it was stored in an ante chamber under lock and key. A sad sequel is that the grave in Coire was destroyed, as it was practice there to reuse graves not regularly attended. Luckily a photograph still exists of the original headstone and grave taken after the interment. The site of the grave is now lost and the great man’s remains cannot now be honoured as they should be by later generations. 
In 1932 Mr deValera’s government of the Irish Free State agreed to sell back the “Geneva” window to Margaret his widow for the same price of £450 paid to her in 1931.  Margaret kept the window at the Studios as a memory of Harry until she died on 31st October 1961 after playing a leading role in the Harry Clarke Studios during all the years since her husband’s death. Margaret was also a talented painter and had been William Orpen’s star pupil at the Dublin Metropolitan School of Art, when Harry was also a pupil before their marriage in 1914. Like Harry, she was also awarded an RHA for her work.
Margaret’s sons, Michael and David, exhibited the Geneva window at the Hugh Lane Gallery in Parnell Square in Dublin for many years. The window was also loaned for exhibition at the Fine Art Society in London. In 1988 despite Margaret’s wishes to keep the window in Ireland, it was sold to the Wolfsonian Museum in Miami’s art deco district. So ended the story of Ireland’s greatest stained glass artist who failed to return from Switzerland to his home in Dublin in spite of his greatest efforts to do so, and his most famous window that in spite of his greatest efforts never got to Switzerland. Another great friend of Harry’s was later given the commission to paint scenes of Irish workers that now occupies the place in Geneva that Harry so much coveted. That other great pupil of Orpen’s was Sean Keating.