Margaret Fuller Ossoli - At Home And Abroad

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* * * * *

My sister's last letter from Europe is full of solemnity, and
evidences her clear conviction of the perils of the voyage across the
treacherous ocean. It is a leave-taking, dearly cherished now by the
mother to whom it was addressed, the kindred of whom she speaks, and
by those other kindred,--those who in spirit felt near to and loved
her. It is as follows:--

Florence, May 14, 1850.

"Dear Mother,--I will believe I shall be welcome with my
treasures,--my husband and child. For me, I long so much to see you!
Should anything hinder our meeting upon earth, think of your daughter,
as one who always wished, at least, to do her duty, and who always
cherished you, according as her mind opened to discover excellence.

"Give dear love, too, to my brothers; and first to my eldest, faithful
friend, Eugene; a sister's love to Ellen; love to my kind good aunts,
and to my dear cousin E. God bless them!

"I hope we shall be able to pass some time together yet, in this
world. But if God decrees otherwise,--here and HEREAFTER, my dearest
mother,

"Your loving child,

"MARGARET."

PART IV.

HOMEWARD VOYAGE, AND MEMORIALS.

It seems proper that some account of the sad close of Madame Ossoli's
earthly journeyings should be embodied in this volume recording her
travels. But a brother's hand trembles even now and _cannot_ write it.
Noble, heroic, unselfish, _Christian_ was that death, even as had been
her life; but its outward circumstances were too painful for my pen
to describe. Nor needs it,--for a scene like that must have impressed
itself indelibly on those who witnessed it, and accurate and vivid
have been their narratives. The Memoirs of my sister contain a most
faithful description; but as they are accessible to all, and I trust
will be read by all who have read this volume, I have chosen rather
to give the accounts somewhat condensed which appeared in the New
York Tribune at the time of the calamity. The first is from the pen of
Bayard Taylor, who visited the scene on the day succeeding the wreck,
and describes the appearance of the shore and the remains of the
vessel. This is followed by the narrative of Mrs. Hasty, wife of the
captain, herself a participant in the scene, and so overwhelmed by
grief at her husband's loss, and that of friends she had learned so
much to value, that she has since faded from this life. A true and
noble woman, her account deserves to be remembered. The third article
is from the pen of Horace Greeley, my sister's ever-valued friend.
Several poems, suggested by this scene, written by those in the Old
World and New who loved and honored Madame Ossoli, are also inserted
here. The respect they testify for the departed is soothing to the
hearts of kindred, and to the many who love and cherish the memory of
Margaret Fuller.--ED.

LETTER OF BAYARD TAYLOR

Fire Island, Tuesday, July 23.

To the Editors of the Tribune:--

I reached the house of Mr. Smith Oakes, about one mile from the spot
where the Elizabeth was wrecked, at three o'clock this morning. The
boat in which I set out last night from Babylon, to cross the bay, was
seven hours making the passage. On landing among the sand-hills, Mr.
Oakes admitted me into his house, and gave me a place of rest for the
remaining two or three hours of the night.

This morning I visited the wreck, traversed the beach for some extent
on both sides, and collected all the particulars that are now likely
to be obtained, relative to the closing scenes of this terrible
disaster. The sand is strewn for a distance of three or four miles
with fragments of planks, spars, boxes, and the merchandise with which
the vessel was laden. With the exception of a piece of her broadside,
which floated to the shore intact, all the timbers have been so
chopped and broken by the sea, that scarcely a stick of ten feet in
length can be found. In front of the wreck these fragments are piled
up along high-water mark to the height of several feet, while farther
in among the sand-hills are scattered casks of almonds stove in,
and their contents mixed with the sand, sacks of juniper-berries,
oil-flasks, &c. About half the hull remains under water, not more than
fifty yards from the shore. The spars and rigging belonging to the
foremast, with part of the mast itself, are still attached to the
ruins, surging over them at every swell. Mr. Jonathan Smith, the agent
of the underwriters, intended to have the surf-boat launched this
morning, for the purpose of cutting away the rigging and ascertaining
how the wreck lies; but the sea is still too high.

From what I can learn, the loss of the Elizabeth is mainly to be
attributed to the inexperience of the mate, Mr. H.P. Bangs, who acted
as captain after leaving Gibraltar. By his own statement, he supposed
he was somewhere between Cape May and Barnegat, on Thursday evening.
The vessel was consequently running northward, and struck head on.
At the second thump, a hole was broken in her side, the seas poured
through and over her, and she began going to pieces. This happened at
ten minutes before four o'clock. The passengers were roused from
their sleep by the shock, and hurried out of the cabin in their
night-clothes, to take refuge on the forecastle, which was the least
exposed part of the vessel. They succeeded with great difficulty; Mrs.
Hasty, the widow of the late captain, fell into a hatchway, from which
she was dragged by a sailor who seized her by the hair.

The swells increased continually, and the danger of the vessel giving
way induced several of the sailors to commit themselves to the waves.
Previous to this they divested themselves of their clothes, which they
tied to pieces of plank and sent ashore. These were immediately
seized upon by the beach pirates, and never afterward recovered.
The carpenter cut loose some planks and spars, and upon one of these
Madame Ossoli was advised to trust herself, the captain promising to
go in advance, with her boy. She refused, saying that she had no wish
to live without the child, and would not, at that hour, give the care
of it to another. Mrs. Hasty then took hold of a plank, in company
with the second mate, Mr. Davis, through whose assistance she landed
safely, though terribly bruised by the floating timber. The captain
clung to a hatch, and was washed ashore insensible, where he was
resuscitated by the efforts of Mr. Oakes and several others, who were
by this time collected on the beach. Most of the men were entirely
destitute of clothing, and some, who were exhausted and ready to let
go their hold, were saved by the islanders, who went into the surf
with lines about their waists, and caught them.

The young Italian girl, Celesta Pardena, who was bound for New York,
where she had already lived in the family of Henry Peters Gray, the
artist, was at first greatly alarmed, and uttered the most piercing
screams. By the exertions of the Ossolis she was quieted, and
apparently resigned to her fate. The passengers reconciled themselves
to the idea of death. At the proposal of the Marquis Ossoli some time
was spent in prayer, after which all sat down calmly to await the
parting of the vessel. The Marchioness Ossoli was entreated by the
sailors to leave the vessel, or at least to trust her child to them,
but she steadily refused.

Early in the morning some men had been sent to the lighthouse for the
life-boat which is kept there. Although this is but two miles distant,
the boat did not arrive till about one o'clock, by which time the gale
had so increased, and the swells were so high and terrific, that it
was impossible to make any use of it. A mortar was also brought for
the purpose of firing a line over the vessel, to stretch a hawser
between it and the shore. The mortar was stationed on the lee of
a hillock, about a hundred and fifty rods from the wreck, that the
powder might be kept dry. It was fired five times, but failed to
carry a line more than half the necessary distance. Just before the
forecastle sunk, the remaining sailors determined to leave.

The steward, with whom the child had always been a great favorite,
took it, almost by main force, and plunged with it into the sea;
neither reached the shore alive. The Marquis Ossoli was soon
afterwards washed away, but his wife remained in ignorance of his
fate. The cook, who was the last person that reached the shore alive,
said that the last words he heard her speak were: "I see nothing but
death before me,--I shall never reach the shore." It was between two
and three o'clock in the afternoon, and after lingering for about ten
hours, exposed to the mountainous surf that swept over the vessel,
with the contemplation of death constantly forced upon her mind, she
was finally overwhelmed as the foremast fell. It is supposed that her
body and that of her husband are still buried under the ruins of the
vessel. Mr. Horace Sumner, who jumped overboard early in the morning,
was never seen afterwards.

The dead bodies that were washed on shore were terribly bruised and
mangled. That of the young Italian girl was enclosed in a rough box,
and buried in the sand, together with those of the sailors. Mrs. Hasty
had by this time found a place of shelter at Mr. Oakes's house, and
at her request the body of the boy, Angelo Eugene Ossoli, was carried
thither, and kept for a day previous to interment. The sailors, who
had all formed a strong attachment to him during the voyage, wept like
children when they saw him. There was some difficulty in finding a
coffin when the time of burial came, whereupon they took one of their
chests, knocked out the tills, laid the body carefully inside, locked
and nailed down the lid. He was buried in a little nook between two of
the sand-hills, some distance from the sea.

The same afternoon a trunk belonging to the Marchioness Ossoli came
to shore, and was fortunately secured before the pirates had an
opportunity of purloining it. Mrs. Hasty informs me that it contained
several large packages of manuscripts, which she dried carefully by
the fire. I have therefore a strong hope that the work on Italy will
be entirely recovered. In a pile of soaked papers near the door,
I found files of the _Democratie Pacifique_ and _Il Nazionale_ of
Florence, as well as several of Mazzini's pamphlets, which I have
preserved.

An attempt will probably be made to-morrow to reach the wreck with the
surf-boat. Judging from its position and the known depth of the water,
I should think the recovery, not only of the bodies, if they are still
remaining there, but also of Powers's statue and the blocks of rough
Carrara, quite practicable, if there should be a sufficiency of still
weather. There are about a hundred and fifty tons of marble under the
ruins. The paintings, belonging to Mr. Aspinwall, which were washed
ashore in boxes, and might have been saved had any one been on the
spot to care for them, are for the most part utterly destroyed. Those
which were least injured by the sea-water were cut from the frames
and carried off by the pirates; the frames were broken in pieces,
and scattered along the beach. This morning I found several shreds of
canvas, evidently more than a century old, half buried in the sand.
All the silk, Leghorn braid, hats, wool, oil, almonds, and other
articles contained in the vessel, were carried off as soon as they
came to land. On Sunday there were nearly a thousand persons here,
from all parts of the coast between Rockaway and Montauk, and
more than half of them were engaged in secreting and carrying off
everything that seemed to be of value.

The two bodies found yesterday were those of sailors. All have now
come to land but those of the Ossolis and Horace Sumner. If not found
in the wreck, they will be cast ashore to the westward of this, as the
current has set in that direction since the gale.

Yours, &c.

* * * * *

THE WRECK OF THE ELIZABETH.

From a conversation with Mrs. Hasty, widow of the captain of the
ill-fated Elizabeth, we gather the following particulars of her voyage
and its melancholy termination.

We have already stated that Captain Hasty was prostrated, eight days
after leaving Leghorn, by a disease which was regarded and treated as
fever, but which ultimately exhibited itself as small-pox of the most
malignant type. He died of it just as the vessel reached Gibraltar,
and his remains were committed to the deep. After a short detention
in quarantine, the Elizabeth resumed her voyage on the 8th ultimo,
and was long baffled by adverse winds. Two days from Gibraltar, the
terrible disease which had proved fatal to the captain attacked the
child of the Ossolis, a beautiful boy of two years, and for many days
his recovery was regarded as hopeless. His eyes were completely closed
for five days, his head deprived of all shape, and his whole person
covered with pustules; yet, through the devoted attention of his
parents and their friends, he survived, and at length gradually
recovered. Only a few scars and red spots remained on his face and
body, and these were disappearing, to the great joy of his mother, who
felt solicitous that his rare beauty should not be marred at his first
meeting with those she loved, and especially her mother.

At length, after a month of slow progress, the wind shifted, and blew
strongly from the southwest for several days, sweeping them rapidly
on their course, until, on Thursday evening last, they knew that they
were near the end of their voyage. Their trunks were brought up and
repacked, in anticipation of a speedy arrival in port. Meantime, the
breeze gradually swelled to a gale, which became decided about nine
o'clock on that evening. But their ship was new and strong, and
all retired to rest as usual. They were running west, and supposed
themselves about sixty miles farther south than they actually were.
By their reckoning, they would be just off the harbor of New York next
morning. About half past two o'clock, Mr. Bangs, the mate in command,
took soundings, and reported twenty-one fathoms. He said that depth
insured their safety till daylight, and turned in again. Of course,
all was thick around the vessel, and the storm howling fiercely. One
hour afterward, the ship struck with great violence, and in a moment
was fast aground. She was a stout brig of 531 tons, five years old,
heavily laden with marble, &c., and drawing seventeen feet water. Had
she been light, she might have floated over the bar into twenty feet
water, and all on board could have been saved. She struck rather
sidewise than bows on, canted on her side and stuck fast, the mad
waves making a clear sweep over her, pouring down into the cabin
through the skylight, which was destroyed. One side of the cabin
was immediately and permanently under water, the other frequently
drenched. The passengers, who were all up in a moment, chose the most
sheltered positions, and there remained, calm, earnest, and resigned
to any fate, for a long three hours. No land was yet visible; they
knew not where they were, but they knew that their chance of surviving
was small indeed. When the coast was first visible through the driving
storm in the gray light of morning, the sand-hills were mistaken for
rocks, which made the prospect still more dismal. The young Ossoli
cried a little with discomfort and fright, but was soon hushed to
sleep. Our friend Margaret had two life-preservers, but one of them
proved unfit for use. All the boats had been smashed in pieces or torn
away soon after the vessel struck; and it would have been madness to
launch them in the dark, if it had been possible to launch them at
all, with the waves charging over the wreck every moment. A sailor,
soon after light, took Madame Ossoli's serviceable life-preserver
and swam ashore with it, in quest of aid for those left on board, and
arrived safe, but of course could not return his means of deliverance.

By 7 A.M. it became evident that the cabin must soon go to pieces, and
indeed it was scarcely tenantable then. The crew were collected in
the forecastle, which was stronger and less exposed, the vessel having
settled by the stem, and the sailors had been repeatedly ordered to go
aft and help the passengers forward, but the peril was so great that
none obeyed. At length the second mate, Davis, went himself,
and accompanied the Italian girl, Celesta Pardena, safely to the
forecastle, though with great difficulty. Madame Ossoli went next, and
had a narrow escape from being washed away, but got over. Her child
was placed in a bag tied around a sailor's neck, and thus carried
safely. Marquis Ossoli and the rest followed, each convoyed by the
mate or one of the sailors.

All being collected in the forecastle, it was evident that their
position was still most perilous, and that the ship could not much
longer hold together. The women were urged to try first the experiment
of taking each a plank and committing themselves to the waves. Madame
Ossoli refused thus to be separated from her husband and child. She
had from the first expressed a willingness to live or die with them,
but not to live without them. Mrs. Hasty was the first to try the
plank, and, though the struggle was for some time a doubtful one, did
finally reach the shore, utterly exhausted. There was a strong current
setting to the westward, so that, though the wreck lay but a quarter
of a mile from the shore, she landed three fourths of a mile distant.
No other woman, and no passenger, survives, though several of the
crew came ashore after she did, in a similar manner. The last who came
reports that the child had been washed away from the man who held it
before the ship broke up, that Ossoli had in like manner been washed
from the foremast, to which he was clinging; but, in the horror of the
moment, Margaret never learned that those she so clung to had preceded
her to the spirit land. Those who remained of the crew had just
persuaded her to trust herself to a plank, in the belief that Ossoli
and their child had already started for the shore, when just as she
was stepping down, a great wave broke over the vessel and swept her
into the boiling deep. She never rose again. The ship broke up soon
after (about 10 A.M. Mrs. Hasty says, instead of the later hour
previously reported); but both mates and most of the crew got on
one fragment or another. It was supposed that those of them who were
drowned were struck by floating spars or planks, and thus stunned or
disabled so as to preclude all chance of their rescue.

We do not know at the time of this writing whether the manuscript of
our friend's work on Italy and her late struggles has been saved. We
fear it has not been. One of her trunks is known to have been saved;
but, though it contained a good many papers, Mrs. Hasty believes that
this was not among them. The author had thrown her whole soul into
this work, had enjoyed the fullest opportunities for observation, was
herself a partaker in the gallant though unsuccessful struggle which
has redeemed the name of Rome from the long rust of sloth, servility,
and cowardice, was the intimate friend and compatriot of the
Republican leaders, and better fitted than any one else to refute the
calumnies and falsehoods with which their names have been blackened by
the champions of aristocratic "order" throughout the civilized world.
We cannot forego the hope that her work on Italy has been saved, or
will yet be recovered.

* * * * *

The following is a complete list of the persons lost by the wreck of
the ship Elizabeth:--

Giovanni, Marquis Ossoli.
Margaret Fuller Ossoli.
Their child, Eugene Angelo Ossoli.
Celesta Pardena, of Rome.
Horace Sumner, of Boston.
George Sanford, seaman (Swede).
Henry Westervelt, seaman (Swede).
George Bates, steward.

* * * * *

DEATH OF MARGARET FULLER.

A great soul has passed from this mortal stage of being by the death
of MARGARET FULLER, by marriage Marchioness Ossoli, who, with her
husband and child, Mr. Horace Sumner of Boston,[A] and others, was
drowned in the wreck of the brig Elizabeth from Leghorn for this
port, on the south shore of Long Island, near Fire Island, on Friday
afternoon last. No passenger survives to tell the story of that night
of horrors, whose fury appalled many of our snugly sheltered citizens
reposing securely in their beds. We can adequately realize what it
must have been to voyagers approaching our coast from the Old World,
on vessels helplessly exposed to the rage of that wild southwestern
gale, and seeing in the long and anxiously expected land of their
youth and their love only an aggravation of their perils, a death-blow
to their hopes, an assurance of their temporal doom!

[Footnote A: Horace Sumner, one of the victims of the lamentable wreck
of the Elizabeth, was the youngest son of the late Hon. Charles P.
Sumner, of Boston, for many years Sheriff of Suffolk County, and the
brother of George Sumner, Esq., the distinguished American writer, now
resident at Paris, and of Hon. Charles Sumner of Boston, who is well
known for his legal and literary eminence throughout the country. He
was about twenty-four years of age, and had been abroad for nearly a
year, travelling in the South of Europe for the benefit of his health.
The past winter was spent by him chiefly in Florence, where he was on
terms of familiar intimacy with the Marquis and Marchioness Ossoli,
and was induced to take passage in the same vessel with them for his
return to his native land. He was a young man of singular modesty of
deportment, of an original turn of mind, and greatly endeared to his
friends by the sweetness of his disposition and the purity of his
character.]

Margaret Fuller was the daughter of Hon. Timothy Fuller, a lawyer
of Boston, but nearly all his life a resident of Cambridge, and a
Representative of the Middlessex District in Congress from 1817 to
1825. Mr. Fuller, upon his retirement from Congress, purchased a farm
at some distance from Boston, and abandoned law for agriculture, soon
after which he died. His widow and six children still survive.

Margaret, if we mistake not, was the first-born, and from a very early
age evinced the possession of remarkable intellectual powers. Her
father regarded her with a proud admiration, and was from childhood
her chief instructor, guide, companion, and friend. He committed the
too common error of stimulating her intellect to an assiduity and
persistency of effort which severely taxed and ultimately injured her
physical powers.[A] At eight years of age he was accustomed to require
of her the composition of a number of Latin verses per day, while
her studies in philosophy, history, general science, and current
literature were in after years extensive and profound. After her
father's death, she applied herself to teaching as a vocation, first
in Boston, then in Providence, and afterward in Boston again, where
her "Conversations" were for several seasons attended by classes of
women, some of them married, and including many from the best families
of the "American Athens."

[Footnote A: I think this opinion somewhat erroneous, for reasons
which I have already given in the edition recently published of Woman
in the Nineteenth Century. The reader is referred to page 352 of
that work, and also to page 38, where I believe my sister personified
herself under the name of Miranda, and stated clearly and justly the
relation which, existed between her father and herself.--ED.]

In the autumn of 1844, she accepted an invitation to take part in the
conduct of the Tribune, with especial reference to the department
of Reviews and Criticism on current Literature, Art, Music, &c.; a
position which she filled for nearly two years,--how eminently,
our readers well know. Her reviews of Longfellow's Poems, Wesley's
Memoirs, Poe's Poems, Bailey's "Festus," Douglas's Life, &c. must yet
be remembered by many. She had previously found "fit audience, though
few," for a series of remarkable papers on "The Great Musicians,"
"Lord Herbert of Cherbury," "Woman," &c., &c., in "The Dial," a
quarterly of remarkable breadth and vigor, of which she was at first
co-editor with Ralph Waldo Emerson, but which was afterward edited by
him only, though she continued a contributor to its pages. In 1843,
she accompanied some friends on a tour via Niagara, Detroit, and
Mackinac to Chicago, and across the prairies of Illinois, and her
resulting volume, entitled "Summer on the Lakes," is one of the best
works in this department ever issued from the American press. It
was too good to be widely and instantly popular. Her "Woman in the
Nineteenth Century"--an extension of her essay in the Dial--was
published by us early in 1845, and a moderate edition sold. The next
year, a selection from her "Papers on Literature and Art" was issued
by Wiley and Putnam, in two fair volumes of their "Library of American
Books." We believe the original edition was nearly or quite exhausted,
but a second has not been called for, while books nowise comparable
to it for strength or worth have run through half a dozen editions.[A]
These "Papers" embody some of her best contributions to the Dial, the
Tribune, and perhaps one or two which had not appeared in either.

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