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Margaret Ossoli (search for this): chapter 17
we --had known there were any such persons of importance on board, we should have tried to do our best. It was natural for the passengers on the wreck to suppose that the life-boat men were there to do their best in any case. Two only of Margaret Ossoli's treasures reached the land,--the beautiful body of her child, and a trunk holding the letters that had passed between herself and her husband. The body of little Angelo was placed in a seaman's chest, while his rough playmates stood tearfnd brought to Mount Auburn Cemetery by the relatives who had never seen him in life. Among the papers in the trunk was found one memorial which lies before me now, faded and wave-stained. It is a memorandum that was written long before by Margaret Ossoli, during one of her Italian intervals of separation from her child, and folded round a lock of her husband's hair. The paper is as follows:-- 4th February [1849?] I saw this morning a beautiful child beginning to walk. He had only eight
Horace Sumner (search for this): chapter 17
chant vessel that was to sail from Leghorn. This was a new vessel, and Madame Ossoli took the precaution of going with her friend, Mrs. Mozier, to see it; they were much pleased with Captain Hasty and his wife, who came to Florence and spent a few days, as visitors, with Mrs. Mozier. Yet at the very last moment the feeling of foreboding recurred, and it was difficult for Madame Ossoli to force herself on board. Still, she went; they sailed May 17, 1850, the only other passengers being Horace Sumner, of Boston,--a younger brother of Charles Sumner, -and a young Italian girl, Celeste Paolini. Misfortune soon began; Captain Hasty sickened and died of malignant small-pox, and was buried beneath the waves in tie harbor of Gibraltar. There they were detained a week by adverse winds, setting sail again June 9. Two days after, little Angelo was also attacked with smallpox, and was restored with difficulty. At noon of July 18 they were off the coast of New Jersey; the weather was thick,
William W. Story (search for this): chapter 17
Chapter 17: closing scenes. Although Mrs. Story once read the certificate of the marriage of her friends, and had it long in her possession, she did not fix the date of it in her memory, and this will probably remain forever unknown. Their child was born September 5, 1848; and the mother was compelled, in order to disarm suy oppress me — and of yourself. Ever yours, M. O. Ms. I add one more extract from a letter, without date, but of the same period, from Madame Ossoli to Mrs. Story-- You say no secret can be kept in the civilized world, and I suppose not long. But it is very important to me to keep this for the present, if possible, (April 21, 1850):-- It was an odd combination. I had intended, if I went by way of France, to take the packet ship Argo from Havre; I had just written to Mrs. Story that I should not do so; and at the same time requested her to find Miss Fitton, who had my muff, etc.; having closed the letter, I took up Galignani, and my e
William Henry Channing (search for this): chapter 17
Hasty's account, the sailors had just persuaded her [Madame Ossoli] to trust herself to a plank, when the final wave broke over the vessel. At Home and Abroad, Appendix, p. 451. Two of the four sailors reached land alive; and the still warm bodies of the child and steward came ashore. This shows that, even at the last, rescue would not have been impossible, had the life-boat been launched. The whole case is probably summed up in the remark made by one of the life-boat men to the Rev. W. H. Channing,from whom I have it in writing,--Oh! if we --had known there were any such persons of importance on board, we should have tried to do our best. It was natural for the passengers on the wreck to suppose that the life-boat men were there to do their best in any case. Two only of Margaret Ossoli's treasures reached the land,--the beautiful body of her child, and a trunk holding the letters that had passed between herself and her husband. The body of little Angelo was placed in a
W. H. Greenough (search for this): chapter 17
cry to see the kind of fearful rapture with which he regarded them,--legs and arms extended, fingers and toes quivering, mouth made up to a little round O, eyes dilated; for a long time he did not even wish to touch them; after he began to, he was different with all the three, loving the bird, very wild and shouting with the horse; with the cat, putting her face close to his, staring in her eyes, and then throwing her away. Afterwards I drew him in a lottery, at a child's party given by Mrs. Greenough, a toy of a child asleep on the neck of a tiger; the tiger is stretching up to look at the child. This he likes best of any of his toys. It is sweet to see him when he gets used to them, and plays by himself, whispering to them, seeming to contrive stories. You would laugh to know how much remorse I feel that I never gave children more toys in the course of my life. I regret all the money I ever spent on myself or in little presents for grown people, hardened sinners. I did not know
Jesus Christ (search for this): chapter 17
he tiger is stretching up to look at the child. This he likes best of any of his toys. It is sweet to see him when he gets used to them, and plays by himself, whispering to them, seeming to contrive stories. You would laugh to know how much remorse I feel that I never gave children more toys in the course of my life. I regret all the money I ever spent on myself or in little presents for grown people, hardened sinners. I did not know what pure delight could be bestowed. I am sure if Jesus Christ had given, it would not have been little crosses. There is snow all over Florence, in our most beautiful piazza. Santa Maria Novella, with its fair loggia and bridal church, is a carpet of snow, and the full moon looking down. I had forgotten how angelical all that is; how fit to die by. I have only seen snow in mountain patches for so long. Here it is the even holy shroud of a desired power. God bless all good and bad to-night, and save me from despair. Ms. It is evident from
E. Fitton (search for this): chapter 17
ati (April 21, 1850):-- It was an odd combination. I had intended, if I went by way of France, to take the packet ship Argo from Havre; I had just written to Mrs. Story that I should not do so; and at the same time requested her to find Miss Fitton, who had my muff, etc.; having closed the letter, I took up Galignani, and my eye fell on these words,-- Died, 4th April, at No. 10 Rue Ville laEveque, Miss E. Fitton. Turning the leaf, I read of the wreck of the Argo returning from America Miss E. Fitton. Turning the leaf, I read of the wreck of the Argo returning from America to France. There were also notices of the wreck of the Royal Adelaide, a fine English steamer, and of the John Skiddy, one of the fine American packets. Thus, as it seems, safety is not to be found in the wisest calculation. I shall embark more composedly in my merchant ship; praying, indeed, fervently, that it may not be my lot to lose my babe at sea, either by unsolaced sickness, or amid the howling waves. Or, that if I should, it may be brief anguish, and Ossoli, he and I go together. Pr
Adelaide (search for this): chapter 17
tended, if I went by way of France, to take the packet ship Argo from Havre; I had just written to Mrs. Story that I should not do so; and at the same time requested her to find Miss Fitton, who had my muff, etc.; having closed the letter, I took up Galignani, and my eye fell on these words,-- Died, 4th April, at No. 10 Rue Ville laEveque, Miss E. Fitton. Turning the leaf, I read of the wreck of the Argo returning from America to France. There were also notices of the wreck of the Royal Adelaide, a fine English steamer, and of the John Skiddy, one of the fine American packets. Thus, as it seems, safety is not to be found in the wisest calculation. I shall embark more composedly in my merchant ship; praying, indeed, fervently, that it may not be my lot to lose my babe at sea, either by unsolaced sickness, or amid the howling waves. Or, that if I should, it may be brief anguish, and Ossoli, he and I go together. Pray with me, dear friend, as yours ever, forever, Margaret. Ms
Nino (search for this): chapter 17
mploy myself. When he wakes, we go out to some church, or picture-gallery or museum, almost always taking him. Ms. Compare Memoirs, II. 307. This was written in Florence, where they took up their residence after the entrance of the French army into Rome. She busied herself with her history of the Italian struggle, and he with efforts to rescue his share of his father's estate. Another picture of child-life records their very last Christmas Day:-- Christmas Day I was just up, and Nino all naked on his sofa, when came some beautiful large toys that had been sent him: a bird, a horse, a cat, that could be moved to express different things. It almost made me cry to see the kind of fearful rapture with which he regarded them,--legs and arms extended, fingers and toes quivering, mouth made up to a little round O, eyes dilated; for a long time he did not even wish to touch them; after he began to, he was different with all the three, loving the bird, very wild and shouting with
Marchioness Visconti Arconati (search for this): chapter 17
, or what passed for such. On April 6 Madame Ossoli wrote to her friend, the Marchioness Visconti Arconati :-- I am absurdly fearful about this voyage. Various little omens have combined to give me a dark feeling. Among others, just now we hear of the wreck of the Westmoreland bearing Powers' Eve. Perhaps we shall live to laugh at these. But in case of mishap I should perish with my husband and child, perhaps to be transferred to some happier state. Ms. Again she wrote to Madame Arconati (April 21, 1850):-- It was an odd combination. I had intended, if I went by way of France, to take the packet ship Argo from Havre; I had just written to Mrs. Story that I should not do so; and at the same time requested her to find Miss Fitton, who had my muff, etc.; having closed the letter, I took up Galignani, and my eye fell on these words,-- Died, 4th April, at No. 10 Rue Ville laEveque, Miss E. Fitton. Turning the leaf, I read of the wreck of the Argo returning from Amer
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