Letter from Willie to Fannies mother (black border)
Paris, March 4, 1864
My Ever Dear Mother,
Had I consulted my own inclination, I would probably have remained somewhat longer at Pau which is endeared to me by so many fond yet painful ties. But the Doctors advised and my friends urged that it was absolutely necessary I should seek to restore by change of scene, my health , which during the last few months has become seriously affected. The constant watching at the bedside of my poor little sufferer, the anxiety of mind and want of exercise, and latterly the grief that literally overwhelmed me, have produced a state of nervousness and sleeplessness , the only relief from which is to be found in sheer physical exhaustion. However great my reluctance to leaving my poor heart broken father (who is now over 60 years of age and has recently become a great invalid) yet , such is my anxiety for active employment , as a cure for the morbid state of my mind, that I am much tempted to resign my office , return home and enter the army. Before doing so however, I will take care to confide to some trustworthy person for conveyance to New Orleans, two large trunks full of valuable articles of clothing, the majority of which, such as the laces and silks, were never worn by my Sainted Fannie. A separate box, containing all her jewelry, and little trinkets and curiosities collected during our travels and destined by her for her beloved brothers & sisters, will also be forwarded as soon as a perfectly safe opportunity presents itself. I desire to incur no risk, as all these things will be of great value hereafter, particularly to Nuna and Lalla. I, of course, shall only send the articles of clothing that could advantageously bear keeping, and which were careful selected and packed up under the direction of kind Mrs. Bradford.
As I know not how many of my letters to you may have miscarried, I will for the purpose of supplying perhaps some connecting links, affording you and myself the melancholy satisfaction of rehearsing rapidly some of the incidents connected with our trip to Europe and with the cruel disease which was so soon destined to make a victim of the loveliest being the earth has ever known.
You may perhaps remember my anxiety on firste (sic) hearing that deep, hollow cough at the bay in 1858. That anxiety was perhaps the first indication of my love and it never abandoned me while she lived. One of my chief objects in visiting Europe, thus acting on the suggestion of Dr. Choppiex (sp) was that she might experience the benefit of travel and of change of clime and that she might return to you in the autumn with her constitution firmly established and perhaps renovated. During the first year of our sojourn abroad my prayers for this dear ones health appeared to be in process of realization. Finding the climate of London too chilly and gloomy, we proceeded the 11th July 1861 to Paris, and thence to Switzerland, where the ____ mountain air, and constant exercise soon performed wonders. Her appetite increased the outline of her form become rounded, The rosy hue of her cheek and her physical strength all indicated apparently glowing health. On the 25th Oct. we crossed into Italy, and spent the winter at Florence, Rome and Naples where her general health still contrived excellent altho the dreadful cough occasionally made itself heard. You are aware that, I had declined the honorable office of Secretary to the Commissioner, one of my motives being to be able to travel freely with my darling. When however in March 1862 my father was appointed Commissioner to Spain Belgium etc. I was selected as his Secretary, I no longer had a reasonable excuse to decline serving the country in the diplomatic capacity for which my past experience had best qualified me. At my darling wife’s earnest solicitation we proceeded in the latter part of March to Brussels, one of the most pleasant capitals of Europe.. The climate is on the whole, nearly as mild as that of Paris, and the winter of 62 – which alas! Proved so fatal in its consequences – was less severe than its predecessor or successor. In fact, I may say without exaggeration that we did not feel the slightest cold during the winter, the apartments we inhabited being an exceedingly warm and comfortable one. I scarcely ever permitted her to go out of evenings, and then only in a close carriage. I need not tell you that we desired no other society than that of each other, altho’ we frequently were visited by our kind Southern friends. – My only absence from her was in Oct. 62 when I was suddenly summoned to Copenhagen for about 10 days, leaving her in Brussels as I was fearful of exposing her to a Northern clime and to the fatigue of rapid traveling.
It was in the latter part of December that the first slight and almost imperceptible symptoms of the treacherous disease must, if I recollect right, have first manifested themselves. A slight hacking cough began to be heard as (of) evenings sometimes accompanied by that sepulchral hollow sound, which had always caused me so much anguish. An occasional slight flush, as well as a great disinclination to sit in a room where there was fire and to the use of warm apparel next became apparent. I immediately called in a physician, highly recommended to us, who was employed by nearly all our friends. He positively and repeatedly assured me after much examination of her lungs, that they were sound as mine. My fears were however only partially allayed altho she seemed to have entirely recovered on the approach of Spring. _ ____ on the 3rd of May 1863 I was appalled more than words can tell by a hemorrhage of the lungs, I immediately called in another physician, the most eminent of the city who again pronounced that her lungs were perfectly sound and treated the hemorrhage very lightly; considered it a ‘case’ or pleura pneumonia and recommended bleeding. My poor darling whose cough still continued accompanied with expectoration now, seemed, with her _____ constitution, to recover, after she had been twice bled. We went to Spa where she took her ____ exercise and enjoyed her usual appetite, tho’ no doubt the fatal malady was still lurking in her system. On her return to Brussels in July, the physician again recommended bleeding and gymnastic exercise, for she still retained her bodily strength. At last in the latter part of August, the Dr. was compelled to admit in answer to my searching questions, the existence, for the first time of slight tubercles. _ I did not yet despair, for who can do so in presence of al the usual accompaniments of health, but decided at once to consult the celebrated Dr. Louis, in Paris, and spend the winter in a more Southern clime. _
The rest of the harrowing tale you know horribly too well. The successive hemorrhages, the gradual weakening and emaciation, the exhausting cough and expectoration, all leading to that inevitable fatal result, in which my mind, up to the last refused to believe. Even now it seems as a hideous dream, which returning day may dispel.
My last letter gave you an account of her last moments, and of the soul harrowing incidents with which they were accompanied. What has so often been said of her by those who best knew her and appreciated her, that “she was too pure for earth” has been verified. God, at an early period of her life, had marked her for his own, He, with infinite wisdom permitted her to pass a few too short years on the earth, to gladden it by her sweet presence. He gave her all the happiness that earthly love can bestow, He caused her to suffer in order that she might be a martyr, and only condition now is that she is enjoying, in the uppermost mansion, and in the bosom of her loving Lord, that blessed rest of which our poor human mind can form no adequate conception.
How often it had she repeated to me in the course of our too! Too happy love – which was ____ contained honeymoon & when roaming over the classical remains of antiquities or the grand scenery of the Alps, “Oh Willie! We are too happy to continue so long. God will not permit that we shall make a Paradise upon earth.”
The evening before she died I received your last letter accompanied by one from Nuna. Altho’ she was conscious at the time, the Doctor cautioned me against the too sudden effect the reading of your letter might occasion. Your name, up to the last, was upon her lips, even when her mind wandered.
Among her souvenirs which she had collected for each of the family, you will find, for yourself the most valuable of all – her diary written out carefully day by day and contained almost up to the last, intended for the sole eye of her darling mother who was never for a moment absent from her thoughts. How often have I heard her speak with rapture of the day, when she might relate in detail all the thousand incidents of foreign travel that it would so much delight them to hear. _
I can pursue this subject no further at present. – Gloomy as the future may be to you you are yet blessed with the smiles of your sweet little ones clustering around your knee, of your noble boys battling for their country. Dear Nuna promises in a great measure to take the place of her departed sister. – But for me the present and the future presents but one dreary blank only relieved by the hope of meeting with my departed angel in that blissful abode in which she taught me to place all my hopes. –
God bless you all! Is the fervent prayer of your disconsolate Son,
William. -
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Letter May 20 1864 Ambrose Dudley Mann to Francis Nicholson Ogden
LETTER (From Ambrose Dudley Mann to Fannie’s mother Francis Nicholson Ogden)
Brussels, May 20 , 1864.
Dear Mrs. Ogden:
All unwillingness to intrude upon the sanctity of your sorrow, has hitherto ver____d me from offering you my heartfelt condolences on the recent agonizing event. I even now hesitate to write lest I shall afresh the wounds of anguish, from which you have probably suffered as much as mortal can well bear.
I cannot adequately describe to you how much she endeared herself to me: but you may imagine the extent of my affection when I assure you that I could not have loved her more had she been my own daughter. If poor humanity ever attained perfection on earth it was exemplified in majestic simplicity in her beautiful character. She was indeed. “one in whoever there was no guile.” Too pure for earth Heaven claimed her as its own and called her away.- perhaps to enter ____ the performance of some of its subliment ministries. I really believe so and as(?) this belief I am corralled and encouraged to ______ myself for as _____ bode with her “on that house not made with hands” “those whom the God’s love die young.” So too, thought the ancients, and accordingly, the funeral rites of such were always performed at morning twilight. Aurora it was believed had lent them to earth for a purpose and that purpose having been accomplished had called them back to herself.
I was a delighted witness of the ardent and unalloyed bliss of Fannie and Willie. In their nature it may be truthfully said that two souls inhabited one heart. They had not a thought on which there was not ____ ,undying devotion.
Willie has written you detailed accounts. I need not add anything to them.; His own health I fear is very precarious. I never saw him looking so badly. He is the mere wreck of what he was a year ago.
Permit me to assure you that I shall always take the loveliest interest in each of your children, and shall be prepared to render them at all time, any service that you or they will consider useful. They are dear to me by the ties of memory and the consecrations of regret. Such a link of connecting attachment as was Angelic Fannie can never be severed. - Do tell me what I can do to increase the happiness of you all!
The war I now think, is almost ended. But I may not speculate upon the subject
here.
Devotedly your Friend -
Brussels, May 20 , 1864.
Dear Mrs. Ogden:
All unwillingness to intrude upon the sanctity of your sorrow, has hitherto ver____d me from offering you my heartfelt condolences on the recent agonizing event. I even now hesitate to write lest I shall afresh the wounds of anguish, from which you have probably suffered as much as mortal can well bear.
I cannot adequately describe to you how much she endeared herself to me: but you may imagine the extent of my affection when I assure you that I could not have loved her more had she been my own daughter. If poor humanity ever attained perfection on earth it was exemplified in majestic simplicity in her beautiful character. She was indeed. “one in whoever there was no guile.” Too pure for earth Heaven claimed her as its own and called her away.- perhaps to enter ____ the performance of some of its subliment ministries. I really believe so and as(?) this belief I am corralled and encouraged to ______ myself for as _____ bode with her “on that house not made with hands” “those whom the God’s love die young.” So too, thought the ancients, and accordingly, the funeral rites of such were always performed at morning twilight. Aurora it was believed had lent them to earth for a purpose and that purpose having been accomplished had called them back to herself.
I was a delighted witness of the ardent and unalloyed bliss of Fannie and Willie. In their nature it may be truthfully said that two souls inhabited one heart. They had not a thought on which there was not ____ ,undying devotion.
Willie has written you detailed accounts. I need not add anything to them.; His own health I fear is very precarious. I never saw him looking so badly. He is the mere wreck of what he was a year ago.
Permit me to assure you that I shall always take the loveliest interest in each of your children, and shall be prepared to render them at all time, any service that you or they will consider useful. They are dear to me by the ties of memory and the consecrations of regret. Such a link of connecting attachment as was Angelic Fannie can never be severed. - Do tell me what I can do to increase the happiness of you all!
The war I now think, is almost ended. But I may not speculate upon the subject
here.
Devotedly your Friend -
Letter March 6 1939 Florence Ogden to Alys Ogden Fergusson
Letter from Great-great-great Aunt Florence N. Ogden giving her sister Fannie’s picture to her great niece (my great aunt) Alys Ogden Fergusson
Envelope
AFTER 5 DAYS RETURN TO Postmarked 3 Cent Thomas Jefferson
403 Hillary
NEW ORLEANS LA.
MAR 6 130PM
1939
Mrs Bruce Fergusson
Chester
VA –
Letter
MISS FLORENCE N. OGDEN
508 HILLARY STREET
NEW ORLEANS
March 14 - 1928
My dear Alys -
I am sending you the picture of
My sainted sister as you asked me to do - I
prize it very highly as she was not only
my sister but my Godmother. I never
saw her after she left – for Europe since I
was a baby – but every one said she was a
great – beauty – You are the only one I would
trust my beautiful picture with – for I know
it will be safe with you and Bruce – sister
Fannie was married when she was just – 17 years
old , & died at 21 years old of T.B. in Pau
France, she was presented at court in England
& said to have been the prettiest lady ____ - Your
Aunt Edith visited her Tomb in Pau on one of
Her visits- to Europe- & placed flowers on the tomb
And said a little prayer – with love
Affectionately
Aunt- Florence-
Envelope
AFTER 5 DAYS RETURN TO Postmarked 3 Cent Thomas Jefferson
403 Hillary
NEW ORLEANS LA.
MAR 6 130PM
1939
Mrs Bruce Fergusson
Chester
VA –
Letter
MISS FLORENCE N. OGDEN
508 HILLARY STREET
NEW ORLEANS
March 14 - 1928
My dear Alys -
I am sending you the picture of
My sainted sister as you asked me to do - I
prize it very highly as she was not only
my sister but my Godmother. I never
saw her after she left – for Europe since I
was a baby – but every one said she was a
great – beauty – You are the only one I would
trust my beautiful picture with – for I know
it will be safe with you and Bruce – sister
Fannie was married when she was just – 17 years
old , & died at 21 years old of T.B. in Pau
France, she was presented at court in England
& said to have been the prettiest lady ____ - Your
Aunt Edith visited her Tomb in Pau on one of
Her visits- to Europe- & placed flowers on the tomb
And said a little prayer – with love
Affectionately
Aunt- Florence-
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Mount de Po Chantilly May 1865 - Willie writes to Fannie's Mother
Mount de Po Chantilly
May 1865
My Ever Dear Mother;
The preceding pages, written by your darling daughter, contain a short record of our travels in Europe, commenced soon after we landed in Liverpool and continued until our arrival in Pau, her last resting place on earth. During that happy period of her life, when her mind was in constant contact with all that was most beautiful and absorbing in art and nature, nothing could prove more fully that her dear mother was ever present to her memory than the care and regularity with which she daily recorded for your perusal, the impressions she derived from the many wonders she had seen. This day is but the frame work upon which she was to build, on her return to her happy home, a more complete and detailed record of all that she had seen deserving of notice in foreign lands. How often I have heard her expatiate, with childish delight upon the prospect of our speedy return, and rehearse the accurate account which her retentive memory enabled her to give you of the thousand wonders of London and Paris, the sublime scenery of the Alps, and the treasures of art of classic Italy.
As these beautiful pages, exhibiting so fully the development of her mind, the maturity of her judgement and the advantages she derived from travel, were destined exclusively for your eye, I had never perused them until after her death, and I need not tell you how deeply I was impressed by the sweet and touching evidences contained in them of the almost perfect happiness she enjoyed and of the undying love she entertained for me. As I have since frequently, in deep anguish of mind, pored over these pages, how vividly they have brought to mind every hallowed incident connected with that blissful period of our lives, when we were both too blessed in each others love to believe it possible that such happiness was too perfect for earth. You will thus understand, my dear Mother, why, day by day, I have become more attached to these pages, and would faire (?) have retained them in my possession, had I not remembered that your heart, like mine, stands in need of such bitter consolation as they may afford.
Although my numerous letters have conveyed to you an account of the chief incidents connected with the last illness of our lost darling, yet I had long ago resolved in compliance with your wish, to prepare for your perusal, a more connected narrative of the last years of her life, and of all the heartrending symptoms of that fatal disease to which she succumbed. I delayed the performance of this too painful task, as long as I was sustained by the hope that my own lips might communicate to you all that you most longed to know. But the possibility of our meeting has now become more remote than ever, and in my dreary exile my mind is more than ever absorbed by the image of the idolized being whom we mourn. These lines will I know be but a faint and imperfect echo of the mournful past. But even this sad! Sad narrative, though it will cause you to shed many bitter tears of anguish will afford you the melancholy consolation of knowing that no human effort was left untried to prolong the life of one whom God, in his tender love, had, at an early period singled out for the enjoyment of celestial bliss.
You know that from the moment of my marriage, the happiness of this adored being became my chief object in life, my chief anxiety the preservation and strenghtening(sic) of her delicate health. My principal inducement to visit Europe was the hope of fortifying her constitution by foreign travel. The only words she ever heard from my lips, approaching the accent of reproof, were those relating to her occasional imprudence in exposing herself thoughtlessly to the night air or to humidity and in not being warmly enough clad. When we separated from you in New Orleans, and she was deprived of your watchful experience, I felt more than ever the deep responsibility imposed upon me to preserve, by constant vigilance, an existence so precious to us all. During the year Succeeding my arrival in Europe, my endeavors seemed eminently successful. A portion of the Summer and autumn of 1861 were oh! How happily spent in the pure mountain air of Switzerland, where she delighted me by the increased elasticity of her step, her power of enduring fatigue, the rounded contour of her form, her excellent appetite and her evident enjoyment of life. In order to complete the work of fully establishing her constitution and fearing the effect of a Northern winter, we proceeded in Oct. first to Florence and subsequently to Rome and Naples, thus spending the entire winter in Italy. During the whole of this period she had never, at my earnest solicitation ceased to wear flannels, winter and summer. The deep hollow cough which had always so alarmed me at the Bay had almost entirely ceased, and I cannot recollect her having missed a single meal from the time she left home until long after our return from Italy.
As my father required my presence in Brussels, and as the winter was already far spent, we proceeded thither, at the latter part of March 1862, where, surrounded by a circle of devoted friends our darling joyfully passed the summer, shedding the radiance of her happiness on all around her. As winter approached I again thought of removing to a milder climate, but my apprehensions had been so completely silenced by her long improvement that I acquiesced in her and my father’s desire to spend the winter in Brussels, taking the precaution however of removing to a smaller suite of apartments, remarkable for their healthy exposure and freedom from cold and damp.
On my return from Copenhagen after ten days absence in Oct. 1862, I noticed that she was slightly thinner and paler than when I left; this she attributed to a severe cold, caught during my absence. I redoubled my ordinary precautions, insisted upon her wearing thicker clothing and furs notwithstanding the sumsual(?) mildness of the season, and made it a rule,- which we were always too happy in each others company to wish to infringe – to spend all our evenings in our well warmed and comfortable home, where we were engaged in useful reading and in music or else received a few intimate friends.
It was during the latter part of December or the beginning of January that I first noticed the gradual, periodical return of that deep, hollow cough which before our marriage had so often alarmed me, but now filled me with a vague, indefinable dread, as if betokening some impending disaster. Why! Oh why! Did I not hearken to those auscious foreboding and hasten off with my darling to a milder climate, where , even then, her life might have been preserved? This is a reproach which, as long as I live, I can never cease to address myself, though perhaps undeservedly. I permitted myself to be lulled into a false security by her representations, accompanied by those of my father and friends and this security was strengthened by the occasional disappearance of the cough. Ignorant as I then was of the premonitory symptoms of the frightful disease, I did not sufficiently notice that she frequently complained, particuclarily after dinner of the heat in our dining-room and that she would retire to her own parlor or bed-room where she never permitted a fire to be made. At such moments, I now to well recollect that her hands were slightly heated and that her cheek was suffused with a scarcely perceptible flush, These were doubtless the insidious approaches of that burning, consuming fever which came upon her as a thief in the night, defying the watchfulness of those whose sole thought was the preservation of her health.
About the middle of January she first began to com[plain of a slight pain near her left shoulder: I immediately called in a highly recommended physician, Dr. Geens, who had successfully treated several of our Southern friends. He made very light of the pain, pronounced it a slight attack of neuralgia, very prevalent at that season, and prescribed dome slight remedy, such as gentle friction with ointment. I nevertheless communicated to him my apprehensions, and insisted upon his returning frequently and sounding her lungs, which he repeatedly and carefully did pronouncing them again and again perfectly sound. Tho’ my alarm was not quieted, yet the disappearance of the pain contributed to confirm the doctor’s opinion. On a recurrence of the pain a few weeks afterwards the physician, again called in applied the same remedy with the same apparent success; he reiterated his opinion as to the soundness of her lungs and even expressed some astonishment at my apparent distrust of his judgement. I called his attention again to the delicacy of her constitution, to her occasional cough, and asked whether an immediate removal to the South of France or Italy would not be advisable. He repeated that there was no necessity for such a step and that she would certainly recover from her attack of cold and neuralgia as soon as dry weather set in. – Up to this period no marked outward change had occurred in our darling’s health; her appetite continued excellent, her color good and her spirits cheerful. Weather permitting, we daily took our walks in the Park or visited some of our friends. – We had rented a large furnished house and she took especial delight in superintending the household arrangements which were on the most comfortable scale. –
Towards the latter part of April the old familiar symptoms re-appeared in an aggravated form. The physician, again ausciously consulted repeated his confident assertions and prescriptions. But the cough accompanied by slight expectoration, continued to increase in violence and her nights rest was disturbed by the regular recurrence of fever. Early on the morning of the 6th of May she complained of more than usual pain and oppression near her left lung but seemed otherwise in her usual health and spirits. She was talking gaily with the beautiful little daughter of one of our neighbors, when she was seized with a more than usually violent coughing spell; on rushing to her side, I was horrified on perceiving that her expectoration was tinged with blood, which in a few moments began violently to gush from from (sic) her lips in thick, clotted masses. Rendered frantic by this horrible sight, the recollection of which willever continue to haunt me, I nevertheless, succeeded in controlling my emotions, and hastily summoned her physician and several of her kind friends who for weeks now constantly and faithfully assisted me in watching by her bed-side.
Her physician, actuated probably by that strange professional rule always to conceal the worst, affirmed most positively that the hemorrhage was in itself nothing serious, and that I had no cause to feel the slightest alarm. I told him I could no longer feel satisfied with his attendance alone, and asked for a consultation between himself and Dr. Graux, a celebrated physician of Brussels, partially retired from practice, but who at the urgent request of a mutual friend, now consented to give his advice. The consultation took place next morning after another violent hemorrhage, both physicians apparently concurring in the opinion that her lungs were not in the least affected, and that I was wrong in manifesting the slightest apprehensions as to the result. A fly-blister was applied over the left lung, but without accomplishing any permanent benefit, our dear patient continuing very weak and not being permitted to speak above a whisper. After a few days as the flush, indicating fever, continued to increase with the cough, I called on Dr. Graux, and begged him to again visit our darling; he did so, and to my surprise and horror advised that she should be bled. I informed Dr, Geens (her regular attendant) of this decision from which he utterly dissented. I then requested them again to meet in consultation, the result of which was that the advice of Dr. Graux was assented to notwithstanding my earnest opposition.
When I now look back, as I constantly do, at this agonizing period of existence, I can scarcely comprehend how I permitted myself to be so readily duped by the positive assertions even of two eminent medical men that her recovery was only a matter of time, and that her disease was not of the character to cause me the slightest alarm. So long and so fondly had I worshipped this idol of my heart, that I had invested her as it were with immortality and could not bring myself to contemplate the possibility of her loss. I continued up to the last, to listen, only too soundly to the deceptions of her physicians, and to the sanguine hopes of all who surrounded me. At the very time these confident statements were made by Dr. Graux, he informed , as I subsequently ascertained, several of my friends, under the veal (?) of secrecy that it was an improbability to save her life, while Dr Geens stated that from the narrowness of her chest and general delicacy of constitution it was only a wonder that she had lived so long. When I, after her death, reproached Dr. Graux, with having concealed the truth he replied: “ Would I have not been rather to “blame had I embittered her last moments” and perhaps hastened her death by communicating “to you the knowledge which at every “hour she would have read in your anxious “countenance?” Perhaps he was right; for with that facility she had acquired for reading my every thought, it would have been beyond my power so to have mastered my feelings as at all times to have concealed from her the dreadful truth.-
Even at the period of her first hemorrhage which I have just related, I was forced to leave her room for an hour or so in order that she might not witness my painful emotion. When I returned to her room, partly calmed by the assurances of the Doctor, She beckoned me to her side, and whispered in my ear: “You have been crying Willie:” she then looked at your portrait, hanging at the foot of her bed and murmuring “Dear Mama”: turned aside her head and wept. This and many other similar touching incidents which I have since connected together, lead me to believe that at that early period she feared she would never live to see you again, altho’ she never expressed such a thought to myself, for fear of giving me pain.
My own worst apprehensions were soon allayed by her apparent speedy recovery; such was the natural buoyancy of her constitution that her usual appetite and strength rapidly returned and early in June she even began gymnastic lessons at the urgent advice of Dr. Graux who insisted upon vigorous bodily exercise as necessary to the full restoration of her health. All dismal forebodings had vanished, and but for the daily recurrence of the flush, followed by slight coughing and expectoration, nothing indicated the gradual approaches of that fell disease, the symptoms of which are so baffling even to the most experienced observers. – In order to complete our darlings convalescence we were advised to spend a month at Spa, perhaps the most lovely watering place in Europe, where in the delightful environs of that charming spot we passed a most happy month, and I remember – such was my overwhelming confidence – having written to my father just before our return to Brussels that I considered my darlings health as completely re-established;-
On our return to Brussels July 11 her gymnastic lessons were resumed, her strength daily increasing, but the unmistakable daily hectic flush and other well-known symptoms of consumption still manifested themselves, altho she continued to enjoy her meals and to exhibit her usual flow of spirits. In the latter part of August, the flush and fever again became so alarming that I again called in Dr. Graux, who, to my horror again advised that she should immediately be bled. To this I at first positively objected, but was forced to yield, in consideration of his eminent experience and of the deep interest he manifested in the preservation of my darlings health. Altho’ a temporary relief was experienced, I then determined that I would not subject her to what I considered dangerous treatment and would consult some physician in Paris who had made diseases of the lungs a specialty, and being fully resolved not to spend another winter in the treacherous climate of Brussels, we left that city on the 15th of Sept. for Capri and the South of France.
And now, My Dear Mother, commenced the most painful part of this harrowing narrative, to retrace which required all the resolution that I can summon to my aid. Up to this period my perfect confidence in her speedy recovery had never been effectually shaken. In my utter ignorance of the ordinary symptoms of consumption, I permitted myself to be too readily deceived, by her physicians and by my friends, the majority of whom already anticipated the worst. But I was still at times haunted by a lurking suspicion that the truth had been concealed from me, and I determined to the undeceived, even if the knowledge cost me my peace of mind. I thought that I possessed sufficient self-control to conceal the dreadful truth even from one who had accustomed herself to read my every thought. –
Immediately on our arrival in Paris, we called on Dr. Louis, perhaps the first authority in Europe in cases of consumption,- to my darling’s repeated anxious inquiries, after a thorough examination, he answered in a seemingly confident manner, tho’ the expression of his face gave a different response. After returning with my darling to the hotel I left her, again visiting Dr. Louis and begging of him not to let me remain in ignorance of what it was so necessary that I should know. – I shall never forget that solemn compassionate expression of his face as he turned towards me: and said to me: “Ah! My poor young friend, she is very very sick.” At this announcement and the manner in which it was conveyed, I swooned away and fell to the earth. When I recovered my self-possession he seemed to regret what he had disclosed and said soothingly: But she is so young, she may yet recover: I have known “such instances.- But my all means conceal from her your apprehensions.”
In my anguish, It was long before I could return to the hotel, but when I did so, it was with a smile which never left my countenance,-except during the dread hours of the night, or when I happened to be absent from her for a short time- until the hour of her death. I now sought to laugh away her gloomy forebodings and I succeeded I then thought, in dispelling her anxiety. But I have now reason to believe that, even then she knew that she could not live, but would not, in her love, seek to dispel the illusion under which she imagined I was laboring. Thus it was, for the first and last time in our lives, that we both labored, unsuccessfully , to deceive each other.
Shortly after our arrival in Pau, the disease, I think, entered upon its second, or incurable stage. Hemorrhage succeeded hemorrhage in quick succession, her emaciation gradually and perceptively increased, the fever and cough became more violent. But even then (so prone are we to hope for the best) her physicians confident assertions that she might yet recover, the cheerful company of our kind friends, who providentially were present with me in that hour of trial, and the occasional pauses in the progress of he malady, during which she was apparently all life and animation again, combined to give me a certain amount of confidence up to within a few weeks of her death. Even as late as the month of January she continued her walks in the picturesque Park adjoining our beautiful little cottage, or else took drives together through the environs of Pau. Her pure and perfect love for me seemed at such moments to have overcome the fell destroyer, and I would encourage her to indulge in visions of the happiness we would enjoy when once more united to our loved ones at home. – But such visions were of short duration. – By the middle of January even the Dr. no longer sought to conceal from me that she must soon pass away. She had already suffered from swollen feet, one of the last and most fatal symptoms.- Several consultations of eminent physicians were held, but without beneficial effect. I would still carry her in my arms to enjoy the soft sunshine, on a little terrace overhanging our garden but she was now to frightfully weak and emaciated that I was forced even to discontinue this.- About the middle of February a sudden and alarming change came over her, characterized by an apathy, resembling a swoon, she ceased to take an interest in the conversation of her friends, and it was only when we were alone and she was sitting on my lap, her favorite seat, that her mind would rally and she would be cheerful and bright as of old.- I cannot refrain from relating a touching incident which occurred on the Wednesday preceding her death. She was lying in the parlor on the sofa, for the last time, and I was reading to her a hymn, when I perceived that her eyes began to wander, as if in search of something, I asked her if she wanted anything but she answered nothing and at first seemed to fail to recognize me. I was so overcome that I fell upon my knees beside her couch and sobbed aloud: she turned her eyes towards me and putting her arm around me, her features became illuminated with an angelic smile of triumphant joy that lasted but for a moment and then again gave way to the dull, lusterless expression characteristic of approaching dissolution. This was her last fully conscious moment on earth, and in it she seemed to invite me to the realms of bliss above. Alas! That her wish has not been fulfilled and that I am still amoung the living.
I have already written to you, at length of the painful scenes that ensued; of the lethargy, succeeded by delirium which commenced on Thursday and lasted until Saturday night, and of the almost miraculous state of semi-consciousness which preceded her death about 24 hours. I have not the courage to dwell again at length upon those agonizing moments.
May 1865
My Ever Dear Mother;
The preceding pages, written by your darling daughter, contain a short record of our travels in Europe, commenced soon after we landed in Liverpool and continued until our arrival in Pau, her last resting place on earth. During that happy period of her life, when her mind was in constant contact with all that was most beautiful and absorbing in art and nature, nothing could prove more fully that her dear mother was ever present to her memory than the care and regularity with which she daily recorded for your perusal, the impressions she derived from the many wonders she had seen. This day is but the frame work upon which she was to build, on her return to her happy home, a more complete and detailed record of all that she had seen deserving of notice in foreign lands. How often I have heard her expatiate, with childish delight upon the prospect of our speedy return, and rehearse the accurate account which her retentive memory enabled her to give you of the thousand wonders of London and Paris, the sublime scenery of the Alps, and the treasures of art of classic Italy.
As these beautiful pages, exhibiting so fully the development of her mind, the maturity of her judgement and the advantages she derived from travel, were destined exclusively for your eye, I had never perused them until after her death, and I need not tell you how deeply I was impressed by the sweet and touching evidences contained in them of the almost perfect happiness she enjoyed and of the undying love she entertained for me. As I have since frequently, in deep anguish of mind, pored over these pages, how vividly they have brought to mind every hallowed incident connected with that blissful period of our lives, when we were both too blessed in each others love to believe it possible that such happiness was too perfect for earth. You will thus understand, my dear Mother, why, day by day, I have become more attached to these pages, and would faire (?) have retained them in my possession, had I not remembered that your heart, like mine, stands in need of such bitter consolation as they may afford.
Although my numerous letters have conveyed to you an account of the chief incidents connected with the last illness of our lost darling, yet I had long ago resolved in compliance with your wish, to prepare for your perusal, a more connected narrative of the last years of her life, and of all the heartrending symptoms of that fatal disease to which she succumbed. I delayed the performance of this too painful task, as long as I was sustained by the hope that my own lips might communicate to you all that you most longed to know. But the possibility of our meeting has now become more remote than ever, and in my dreary exile my mind is more than ever absorbed by the image of the idolized being whom we mourn. These lines will I know be but a faint and imperfect echo of the mournful past. But even this sad! Sad narrative, though it will cause you to shed many bitter tears of anguish will afford you the melancholy consolation of knowing that no human effort was left untried to prolong the life of one whom God, in his tender love, had, at an early period singled out for the enjoyment of celestial bliss.
You know that from the moment of my marriage, the happiness of this adored being became my chief object in life, my chief anxiety the preservation and strenghtening(sic) of her delicate health. My principal inducement to visit Europe was the hope of fortifying her constitution by foreign travel. The only words she ever heard from my lips, approaching the accent of reproof, were those relating to her occasional imprudence in exposing herself thoughtlessly to the night air or to humidity and in not being warmly enough clad. When we separated from you in New Orleans, and she was deprived of your watchful experience, I felt more than ever the deep responsibility imposed upon me to preserve, by constant vigilance, an existence so precious to us all. During the year Succeeding my arrival in Europe, my endeavors seemed eminently successful. A portion of the Summer and autumn of 1861 were oh! How happily spent in the pure mountain air of Switzerland, where she delighted me by the increased elasticity of her step, her power of enduring fatigue, the rounded contour of her form, her excellent appetite and her evident enjoyment of life. In order to complete the work of fully establishing her constitution and fearing the effect of a Northern winter, we proceeded in Oct. first to Florence and subsequently to Rome and Naples, thus spending the entire winter in Italy. During the whole of this period she had never, at my earnest solicitation ceased to wear flannels, winter and summer. The deep hollow cough which had always so alarmed me at the Bay had almost entirely ceased, and I cannot recollect her having missed a single meal from the time she left home until long after our return from Italy.
As my father required my presence in Brussels, and as the winter was already far spent, we proceeded thither, at the latter part of March 1862, where, surrounded by a circle of devoted friends our darling joyfully passed the summer, shedding the radiance of her happiness on all around her. As winter approached I again thought of removing to a milder climate, but my apprehensions had been so completely silenced by her long improvement that I acquiesced in her and my father’s desire to spend the winter in Brussels, taking the precaution however of removing to a smaller suite of apartments, remarkable for their healthy exposure and freedom from cold and damp.
On my return from Copenhagen after ten days absence in Oct. 1862, I noticed that she was slightly thinner and paler than when I left; this she attributed to a severe cold, caught during my absence. I redoubled my ordinary precautions, insisted upon her wearing thicker clothing and furs notwithstanding the sumsual(?) mildness of the season, and made it a rule,- which we were always too happy in each others company to wish to infringe – to spend all our evenings in our well warmed and comfortable home, where we were engaged in useful reading and in music or else received a few intimate friends.
It was during the latter part of December or the beginning of January that I first noticed the gradual, periodical return of that deep, hollow cough which before our marriage had so often alarmed me, but now filled me with a vague, indefinable dread, as if betokening some impending disaster. Why! Oh why! Did I not hearken to those auscious foreboding and hasten off with my darling to a milder climate, where , even then, her life might have been preserved? This is a reproach which, as long as I live, I can never cease to address myself, though perhaps undeservedly. I permitted myself to be lulled into a false security by her representations, accompanied by those of my father and friends and this security was strengthened by the occasional disappearance of the cough. Ignorant as I then was of the premonitory symptoms of the frightful disease, I did not sufficiently notice that she frequently complained, particuclarily after dinner of the heat in our dining-room and that she would retire to her own parlor or bed-room where she never permitted a fire to be made. At such moments, I now to well recollect that her hands were slightly heated and that her cheek was suffused with a scarcely perceptible flush, These were doubtless the insidious approaches of that burning, consuming fever which came upon her as a thief in the night, defying the watchfulness of those whose sole thought was the preservation of her health.
About the middle of January she first began to com[plain of a slight pain near her left shoulder: I immediately called in a highly recommended physician, Dr. Geens, who had successfully treated several of our Southern friends. He made very light of the pain, pronounced it a slight attack of neuralgia, very prevalent at that season, and prescribed dome slight remedy, such as gentle friction with ointment. I nevertheless communicated to him my apprehensions, and insisted upon his returning frequently and sounding her lungs, which he repeatedly and carefully did pronouncing them again and again perfectly sound. Tho’ my alarm was not quieted, yet the disappearance of the pain contributed to confirm the doctor’s opinion. On a recurrence of the pain a few weeks afterwards the physician, again called in applied the same remedy with the same apparent success; he reiterated his opinion as to the soundness of her lungs and even expressed some astonishment at my apparent distrust of his judgement. I called his attention again to the delicacy of her constitution, to her occasional cough, and asked whether an immediate removal to the South of France or Italy would not be advisable. He repeated that there was no necessity for such a step and that she would certainly recover from her attack of cold and neuralgia as soon as dry weather set in. – Up to this period no marked outward change had occurred in our darling’s health; her appetite continued excellent, her color good and her spirits cheerful. Weather permitting, we daily took our walks in the Park or visited some of our friends. – We had rented a large furnished house and she took especial delight in superintending the household arrangements which were on the most comfortable scale. –
Towards the latter part of April the old familiar symptoms re-appeared in an aggravated form. The physician, again ausciously consulted repeated his confident assertions and prescriptions. But the cough accompanied by slight expectoration, continued to increase in violence and her nights rest was disturbed by the regular recurrence of fever. Early on the morning of the 6th of May she complained of more than usual pain and oppression near her left lung but seemed otherwise in her usual health and spirits. She was talking gaily with the beautiful little daughter of one of our neighbors, when she was seized with a more than usually violent coughing spell; on rushing to her side, I was horrified on perceiving that her expectoration was tinged with blood, which in a few moments began violently to gush from from (sic) her lips in thick, clotted masses. Rendered frantic by this horrible sight, the recollection of which willever continue to haunt me, I nevertheless, succeeded in controlling my emotions, and hastily summoned her physician and several of her kind friends who for weeks now constantly and faithfully assisted me in watching by her bed-side.
Her physician, actuated probably by that strange professional rule always to conceal the worst, affirmed most positively that the hemorrhage was in itself nothing serious, and that I had no cause to feel the slightest alarm. I told him I could no longer feel satisfied with his attendance alone, and asked for a consultation between himself and Dr. Graux, a celebrated physician of Brussels, partially retired from practice, but who at the urgent request of a mutual friend, now consented to give his advice. The consultation took place next morning after another violent hemorrhage, both physicians apparently concurring in the opinion that her lungs were not in the least affected, and that I was wrong in manifesting the slightest apprehensions as to the result. A fly-blister was applied over the left lung, but without accomplishing any permanent benefit, our dear patient continuing very weak and not being permitted to speak above a whisper. After a few days as the flush, indicating fever, continued to increase with the cough, I called on Dr. Graux, and begged him to again visit our darling; he did so, and to my surprise and horror advised that she should be bled. I informed Dr, Geens (her regular attendant) of this decision from which he utterly dissented. I then requested them again to meet in consultation, the result of which was that the advice of Dr. Graux was assented to notwithstanding my earnest opposition.
When I now look back, as I constantly do, at this agonizing period of existence, I can scarcely comprehend how I permitted myself to be so readily duped by the positive assertions even of two eminent medical men that her recovery was only a matter of time, and that her disease was not of the character to cause me the slightest alarm. So long and so fondly had I worshipped this idol of my heart, that I had invested her as it were with immortality and could not bring myself to contemplate the possibility of her loss. I continued up to the last, to listen, only too soundly to the deceptions of her physicians, and to the sanguine hopes of all who surrounded me. At the very time these confident statements were made by Dr. Graux, he informed , as I subsequently ascertained, several of my friends, under the veal (?) of secrecy that it was an improbability to save her life, while Dr Geens stated that from the narrowness of her chest and general delicacy of constitution it was only a wonder that she had lived so long. When I, after her death, reproached Dr. Graux, with having concealed the truth he replied: “ Would I have not been rather to “blame had I embittered her last moments” and perhaps hastened her death by communicating “to you the knowledge which at every “hour she would have read in your anxious “countenance?” Perhaps he was right; for with that facility she had acquired for reading my every thought, it would have been beyond my power so to have mastered my feelings as at all times to have concealed from her the dreadful truth.-
Even at the period of her first hemorrhage which I have just related, I was forced to leave her room for an hour or so in order that she might not witness my painful emotion. When I returned to her room, partly calmed by the assurances of the Doctor, She beckoned me to her side, and whispered in my ear: “You have been crying Willie:” she then looked at your portrait, hanging at the foot of her bed and murmuring “Dear Mama”: turned aside her head and wept. This and many other similar touching incidents which I have since connected together, lead me to believe that at that early period she feared she would never live to see you again, altho’ she never expressed such a thought to myself, for fear of giving me pain.
My own worst apprehensions were soon allayed by her apparent speedy recovery; such was the natural buoyancy of her constitution that her usual appetite and strength rapidly returned and early in June she even began gymnastic lessons at the urgent advice of Dr. Graux who insisted upon vigorous bodily exercise as necessary to the full restoration of her health. All dismal forebodings had vanished, and but for the daily recurrence of the flush, followed by slight coughing and expectoration, nothing indicated the gradual approaches of that fell disease, the symptoms of which are so baffling even to the most experienced observers. – In order to complete our darlings convalescence we were advised to spend a month at Spa, perhaps the most lovely watering place in Europe, where in the delightful environs of that charming spot we passed a most happy month, and I remember – such was my overwhelming confidence – having written to my father just before our return to Brussels that I considered my darlings health as completely re-established;-
On our return to Brussels July 11 her gymnastic lessons were resumed, her strength daily increasing, but the unmistakable daily hectic flush and other well-known symptoms of consumption still manifested themselves, altho she continued to enjoy her meals and to exhibit her usual flow of spirits. In the latter part of August, the flush and fever again became so alarming that I again called in Dr. Graux, who, to my horror again advised that she should immediately be bled. To this I at first positively objected, but was forced to yield, in consideration of his eminent experience and of the deep interest he manifested in the preservation of my darlings health. Altho’ a temporary relief was experienced, I then determined that I would not subject her to what I considered dangerous treatment and would consult some physician in Paris who had made diseases of the lungs a specialty, and being fully resolved not to spend another winter in the treacherous climate of Brussels, we left that city on the 15th of Sept. for Capri and the South of France.
And now, My Dear Mother, commenced the most painful part of this harrowing narrative, to retrace which required all the resolution that I can summon to my aid. Up to this period my perfect confidence in her speedy recovery had never been effectually shaken. In my utter ignorance of the ordinary symptoms of consumption, I permitted myself to be too readily deceived, by her physicians and by my friends, the majority of whom already anticipated the worst. But I was still at times haunted by a lurking suspicion that the truth had been concealed from me, and I determined to the undeceived, even if the knowledge cost me my peace of mind. I thought that I possessed sufficient self-control to conceal the dreadful truth even from one who had accustomed herself to read my every thought. –
Immediately on our arrival in Paris, we called on Dr. Louis, perhaps the first authority in Europe in cases of consumption,- to my darling’s repeated anxious inquiries, after a thorough examination, he answered in a seemingly confident manner, tho’ the expression of his face gave a different response. After returning with my darling to the hotel I left her, again visiting Dr. Louis and begging of him not to let me remain in ignorance of what it was so necessary that I should know. – I shall never forget that solemn compassionate expression of his face as he turned towards me: and said to me: “Ah! My poor young friend, she is very very sick.” At this announcement and the manner in which it was conveyed, I swooned away and fell to the earth. When I recovered my self-possession he seemed to regret what he had disclosed and said soothingly: But she is so young, she may yet recover: I have known “such instances.- But my all means conceal from her your apprehensions.”
In my anguish, It was long before I could return to the hotel, but when I did so, it was with a smile which never left my countenance,-except during the dread hours of the night, or when I happened to be absent from her for a short time- until the hour of her death. I now sought to laugh away her gloomy forebodings and I succeeded I then thought, in dispelling her anxiety. But I have now reason to believe that, even then she knew that she could not live, but would not, in her love, seek to dispel the illusion under which she imagined I was laboring. Thus it was, for the first and last time in our lives, that we both labored, unsuccessfully , to deceive each other.
Shortly after our arrival in Pau, the disease, I think, entered upon its second, or incurable stage. Hemorrhage succeeded hemorrhage in quick succession, her emaciation gradually and perceptively increased, the fever and cough became more violent. But even then (so prone are we to hope for the best) her physicians confident assertions that she might yet recover, the cheerful company of our kind friends, who providentially were present with me in that hour of trial, and the occasional pauses in the progress of he malady, during which she was apparently all life and animation again, combined to give me a certain amount of confidence up to within a few weeks of her death. Even as late as the month of January she continued her walks in the picturesque Park adjoining our beautiful little cottage, or else took drives together through the environs of Pau. Her pure and perfect love for me seemed at such moments to have overcome the fell destroyer, and I would encourage her to indulge in visions of the happiness we would enjoy when once more united to our loved ones at home. – But such visions were of short duration. – By the middle of January even the Dr. no longer sought to conceal from me that she must soon pass away. She had already suffered from swollen feet, one of the last and most fatal symptoms.- Several consultations of eminent physicians were held, but without beneficial effect. I would still carry her in my arms to enjoy the soft sunshine, on a little terrace overhanging our garden but she was now to frightfully weak and emaciated that I was forced even to discontinue this.- About the middle of February a sudden and alarming change came over her, characterized by an apathy, resembling a swoon, she ceased to take an interest in the conversation of her friends, and it was only when we were alone and she was sitting on my lap, her favorite seat, that her mind would rally and she would be cheerful and bright as of old.- I cannot refrain from relating a touching incident which occurred on the Wednesday preceding her death. She was lying in the parlor on the sofa, for the last time, and I was reading to her a hymn, when I perceived that her eyes began to wander, as if in search of something, I asked her if she wanted anything but she answered nothing and at first seemed to fail to recognize me. I was so overcome that I fell upon my knees beside her couch and sobbed aloud: she turned her eyes towards me and putting her arm around me, her features became illuminated with an angelic smile of triumphant joy that lasted but for a moment and then again gave way to the dull, lusterless expression characteristic of approaching dissolution. This was her last fully conscious moment on earth, and in it she seemed to invite me to the realms of bliss above. Alas! That her wish has not been fulfilled and that I am still amoung the living.
I have already written to you, at length of the painful scenes that ensued; of the lethargy, succeeded by delirium which commenced on Thursday and lasted until Saturday night, and of the almost miraculous state of semi-consciousness which preceded her death about 24 hours. I have not the courage to dwell again at length upon those agonizing moments.
Pau, Basses Pyrenees, France October 2nd 1863
Pau, Basses Pyrenees, October 2nd 1863
We left Brussels September 15 with feelings of joy and sorrow. We had passed very nearly 18 months in this handsome and remarkably clean capital which for comfort and cheapness stands unrivaled amoungst the large cities of Europe. Were it not for the severity of its climate, which with my disease might have proved fatal to me I would never have asked better, whilst in Europe, than to remain in our comfortable handsome house No 3 Rue d ’Arlon Quartier Lu ‘ opold. We had 3 bed rooms Studies, Pantries, kitchen, eaves, servant rooms and a small garden, the house furnished handsomely throughout, and for all this we gave 300 francs, 60 ? a month. There was not a great deal to interest us on our route to Paris. We again passed Mons & Hal, a town celebrated for a miraculous Virgin who, they say draws votaries from all the climes of Europe, once a year, for the benefit of Hal and the priests. The one who sheds her tears laugh’s or sneezes for her, ought certainly to receive the lions share of the show. Under so enlightened a king one can scarely believe his subjects still grope in such darkness. There is a party in Belgium, calling itself the “Liberal” one, which has made a few steps in advance, and would perhaps, had it the power reform the many unconcealed viles existing in the church. The people are afraid of change, and the leaders themselves have not the boldness to renounce a faith they hold in contempt and never follow. My physician, (one of them for I have had no less than 4 and I thank my stars that the one whose confession I am about to give, Dr. Geens by name, is no longer amongst them) himself told me, “Madame, I believe in God and a pure religion but not in the tricks of the priests. They have often taken away my servant girls, because they confessed I never went to mass.” “Why Dr” I asked “do you not become a protestant.” “Le vou drais bien” he replied, “but what can I do. I was born in this faith, my wife will have the children christened in it, and again, ”chacur a’peur.” So it is they are afraid. He doubtless thinks his patients would dread his poisoning them were he suspected of heresy. The minister trembles for his place, the lawyer for his fees, and so they live on, choosing rather the servise of Mammon, than that of God. Valenciennes is near our route but not on it. The lace that bears its name is made chiefly in Brussels. We passed St. Quentin, and many other towns, amongst them Campiegne where the Emperor spends part of the hunting season. Stopped at the hotel Meurice which we were delighted to leave on Thursday the 17th. The “Grand Hotel” on Paris has thrown all the others in the shade. After consulting Baron Louis, we proceeded under his advice to Pau. Our first stoppage was at Luvidg near where Pa and Willie formerly lived. Orleans, on the Loire, where Joan of Arc immortalized herself, Chatellerault, where an English ambassador said the only good steel in France could be found. Poitiers where the Black Prince defeated Charles 7th, Angoulime which we passed under a tunnel, all came in their turn before we reached Bordeaux. We passed the night here and drove along the Quaz the next morning to the depot. Bordeaux is the second seaport of France; it is situated on the Garconne a very large river.
What a quantity of grapes! They are piled up in heaps! The Landes lie on the road to Pau. It is a large track of uncultivated land where pine trees abound. The men and women walk on stilts tied to their feet in order to find their flocks of sheep.
We saw turkeys on the way; at one of the buffets, Willie bought me a plate of figs, the first I had seen in Europe.
Part of our troubles are over; we are at Pau.
We left Brussels September 15 with feelings of joy and sorrow. We had passed very nearly 18 months in this handsome and remarkably clean capital which for comfort and cheapness stands unrivaled amoungst the large cities of Europe. Were it not for the severity of its climate, which with my disease might have proved fatal to me I would never have asked better, whilst in Europe, than to remain in our comfortable handsome house No 3 Rue d ’Arlon Quartier Lu ‘ opold. We had 3 bed rooms Studies, Pantries, kitchen, eaves, servant rooms and a small garden, the house furnished handsomely throughout, and for all this we gave 300 francs, 60 ? a month. There was not a great deal to interest us on our route to Paris. We again passed Mons & Hal, a town celebrated for a miraculous Virgin who, they say draws votaries from all the climes of Europe, once a year, for the benefit of Hal and the priests. The one who sheds her tears laugh’s or sneezes for her, ought certainly to receive the lions share of the show. Under so enlightened a king one can scarely believe his subjects still grope in such darkness. There is a party in Belgium, calling itself the “Liberal” one, which has made a few steps in advance, and would perhaps, had it the power reform the many unconcealed viles existing in the church. The people are afraid of change, and the leaders themselves have not the boldness to renounce a faith they hold in contempt and never follow. My physician, (one of them for I have had no less than 4 and I thank my stars that the one whose confession I am about to give, Dr. Geens by name, is no longer amongst them) himself told me, “Madame, I believe in God and a pure religion but not in the tricks of the priests. They have often taken away my servant girls, because they confessed I never went to mass.” “Why Dr” I asked “do you not become a protestant.” “Le vou drais bien” he replied, “but what can I do. I was born in this faith, my wife will have the children christened in it, and again, ”chacur a’peur.” So it is they are afraid. He doubtless thinks his patients would dread his poisoning them were he suspected of heresy. The minister trembles for his place, the lawyer for his fees, and so they live on, choosing rather the servise of Mammon, than that of God. Valenciennes is near our route but not on it. The lace that bears its name is made chiefly in Brussels. We passed St. Quentin, and many other towns, amongst them Campiegne where the Emperor spends part of the hunting season. Stopped at the hotel Meurice which we were delighted to leave on Thursday the 17th. The “Grand Hotel” on Paris has thrown all the others in the shade. After consulting Baron Louis, we proceeded under his advice to Pau. Our first stoppage was at Luvidg near where Pa and Willie formerly lived. Orleans, on the Loire, where Joan of Arc immortalized herself, Chatellerault, where an English ambassador said the only good steel in France could be found. Poitiers where the Black Prince defeated Charles 7th, Angoulime which we passed under a tunnel, all came in their turn before we reached Bordeaux. We passed the night here and drove along the Quaz the next morning to the depot. Bordeaux is the second seaport of France; it is situated on the Garconne a very large river.
What a quantity of grapes! They are piled up in heaps! The Landes lie on the road to Pau. It is a large track of uncultivated land where pine trees abound. The men and women walk on stilts tied to their feet in order to find their flocks of sheep.
We saw turkeys on the way; at one of the buffets, Willie bought me a plate of figs, the first I had seen in Europe.
Part of our troubles are over; we are at Pau.
Brussels July August 1863
Brussels July 15.
We left Spa on the 11, returning by the rich coal districts around Namur and Liege. The banks of the Meuse charmed me as I suppose they do all travelers. We were glad enough to reach home which seemed more comfortable than ever. Spa was becoming rather crowded, and more gamblers arriving every day I am sure. “Poor race of men, How dearly ye pay for your primal fall”.
Brussels July 23.
We are in the midst of the Hermesse of Brussels. The Hermesse is an old fashioned festival, which each city in Belgium still celebrates, at different periods of the year. The 21st was the anniversary of the King’s inauguration, as we have once seen the ceremony in St. Gudule, I did not care to go a second time.
We visited yesterday the “atelier” of the distinguished sculptor.
The monuments on the “Place de la Collone” and the “Place des Martyrs” are by him. The funeral of Bourgemude(?) took place yesterday, and was immense. The La bafsecourriens(?) seemed to regard the day as a “fete”, so little solemnity is there in their obseguies(?).
We are enjoying the fruit season which is quite long. We have had strawberries since May. Cherries are at 30 centimes 6 cents a lb. I hope to preserve some.
Monday August 10 1863
Saturday we feasted on a watermelon, the only one I have seen in Europe. It was large , red and delicious. “La Fruitiere” said it came from Spain. I have seldom enjoyed the fruit season, even at home, more than I now do in Brussels. Willie often takes me to the market, which is indeed a treat.
After my gymnastic lesson on Saturday, (an exercise Dr. Greux has ordered since my hemorrhage) we drove to Uccle a village near Brussels. Where Mr Tinegre(?) has taken a house. Our little pet Marie Caldwell was with us. They gave us a nice lunch, including another nice dish I had not seen since we left home: Cream cheese, or rather claughbrugh. There are so many Estaminets, on the way that the seem at a loss what to name them. One has chose this attractive title, “A la vue du Ciemtiere”. I wonder if the think the Belgians have inherited the tastes of the former Kings of Spain.
Saturday Dr. Greux’s wife and daughter called on me and made themselves agreeable. I asked Mademoiselle if it were true he father no longer practiced except as a a consulting physician. She replied “no, but were it even so he would come for you “ si ce n’elait que le bout de votre doigt, tellement vous touve til charmante.” The good old man has taken a deep interest in me, which I hope he will carry so far as to eradicate my disease. She proposed to Willie to export a colony of “ces belles femmes du Sud”. For added he, “les notressint bien laides.”
We left Spa on the 11, returning by the rich coal districts around Namur and Liege. The banks of the Meuse charmed me as I suppose they do all travelers. We were glad enough to reach home which seemed more comfortable than ever. Spa was becoming rather crowded, and more gamblers arriving every day I am sure. “Poor race of men, How dearly ye pay for your primal fall”.
Brussels July 23.
We are in the midst of the Hermesse of Brussels. The Hermesse is an old fashioned festival, which each city in Belgium still celebrates, at different periods of the year. The 21st was the anniversary of the King’s inauguration, as we have once seen the ceremony in St. Gudule, I did not care to go a second time.
We visited yesterday the “atelier” of the distinguished sculptor.
The monuments on the “Place de la Collone” and the “Place des Martyrs” are by him. The funeral of Bourgemude(?) took place yesterday, and was immense. The La bafsecourriens(?) seemed to regard the day as a “fete”, so little solemnity is there in their obseguies(?).
We are enjoying the fruit season which is quite long. We have had strawberries since May. Cherries are at 30 centimes 6 cents a lb. I hope to preserve some.
Monday August 10 1863
Saturday we feasted on a watermelon, the only one I have seen in Europe. It was large , red and delicious. “La Fruitiere” said it came from Spain. I have seldom enjoyed the fruit season, even at home, more than I now do in Brussels. Willie often takes me to the market, which is indeed a treat.
After my gymnastic lesson on Saturday, (an exercise Dr. Greux has ordered since my hemorrhage) we drove to Uccle a village near Brussels. Where Mr Tinegre(?) has taken a house. Our little pet Marie Caldwell was with us. They gave us a nice lunch, including another nice dish I had not seen since we left home: Cream cheese, or rather claughbrugh. There are so many Estaminets, on the way that the seem at a loss what to name them. One has chose this attractive title, “A la vue du Ciemtiere”. I wonder if the think the Belgians have inherited the tastes of the former Kings of Spain.
Saturday Dr. Greux’s wife and daughter called on me and made themselves agreeable. I asked Mademoiselle if it were true he father no longer practiced except as a a consulting physician. She replied “no, but were it even so he would come for you “ si ce n’elait que le bout de votre doigt, tellement vous touve til charmante.” The good old man has taken a deep interest in me, which I hope he will carry so far as to eradicate my disease. She proposed to Willie to export a colony of “ces belles femmes du Sud”. For added he, “les notressint bien laides.”
Spa June & July 1863 - Happy Birthday to Willie!
Spa Monday June 29.
We left Brussels on the 27 to hasten my convalescence by a thorough change of air and scene. We soon determined to leave the Hotel de Flandre, where the extravagant prices, the scornful look of the waiters and many other anoyances(sic) which are common to all hotels, proved too much for my weak nerves. Our apartment is a charming one. Today we visited the different springs which are five in number. The Ponchon where we walk every day before breakfast and drink a glass of its water. The 4 others which are the, Tonnelet, Lauveniere, Geronster, and Barisar, vie with each other in the exquisite situation. We returned to enjoy a very nice dinner for which we give 3 frs and there is more than enough with what remains, for Therese. This is the only cheap thing we have yet seen in Spa. The language amoungst the peasants is a strange gibberish. I would call it a mixture of dog latin and french; even the Brussels Flemish is better; this is graft from the Wallone.
I forgot to mention the garden land through which we passed on our way here. At Louvain I only caught a glimpse of the celebrated cathedral. Liege is so delightfully situated and the country around is so picturesque, that I think a residence there would be preferable to one in Brussels. But all homes claim sweet souvenirs from me, for my darling Willie makes me happy everywhere.
Wednesday July 1st 1863.We took a long drive to the cascade of Coo, which has been artificially made by blasting a rock. We have seen other waterfalls, that excelled this one. Of Course we were imposed upon, and made to pay 8 frs for a dinner, which would have cost us 2 in Spa. The beggars were intolerable, annoying you by their whines, and willful idleness. We passed through Stavelot a scrupulously neat village, almost every house having the windows ornamented with flowers, and a bird hanging over the door of the Rez de Chaussee. We returned by Francorchamps, a lovely drive over hill & dale. Happy Birthday for my Willie.
We left Brussels on the 27 to hasten my convalescence by a thorough change of air and scene. We soon determined to leave the Hotel de Flandre, where the extravagant prices, the scornful look of the waiters and many other anoyances(sic) which are common to all hotels, proved too much for my weak nerves. Our apartment is a charming one. Today we visited the different springs which are five in number. The Ponchon where we walk every day before breakfast and drink a glass of its water. The 4 others which are the, Tonnelet, Lauveniere, Geronster, and Barisar, vie with each other in the exquisite situation. We returned to enjoy a very nice dinner for which we give 3 frs and there is more than enough with what remains, for Therese. This is the only cheap thing we have yet seen in Spa. The language amoungst the peasants is a strange gibberish. I would call it a mixture of dog latin and french; even the Brussels Flemish is better; this is graft from the Wallone.
I forgot to mention the garden land through which we passed on our way here. At Louvain I only caught a glimpse of the celebrated cathedral. Liege is so delightfully situated and the country around is so picturesque, that I think a residence there would be preferable to one in Brussels. But all homes claim sweet souvenirs from me, for my darling Willie makes me happy everywhere.
Wednesday July 1st 1863.We took a long drive to the cascade of Coo, which has been artificially made by blasting a rock. We have seen other waterfalls, that excelled this one. Of Course we were imposed upon, and made to pay 8 frs for a dinner, which would have cost us 2 in Spa. The beggars were intolerable, annoying you by their whines, and willful idleness. We passed through Stavelot a scrupulously neat village, almost every house having the windows ornamented with flowers, and a bird hanging over the door of the Rez de Chaussee. We returned by Francorchamps, a lovely drive over hill & dale. Happy Birthday for my Willie.
Brussels March 1863 - Wedding of Princess Alexandra of Denmark & Prince Albert Edward of the United Kingdom
Monday March 2nd 1863
The princess Alexandra with all her suite arrived today. The park and the “place” before the palace, were both crowded with spectators. After waiting for more than an hour the “chaupeurs” came in sight, and we know then the pageant was approaching. In the first carriage rode the fair princess and her mother, on the back seats, in front of the Duchess with the prince of Denmark. The Count of Flandres(sic) with the other less distinguished royal personages followed. The court equifrages were decked out in the gala livery, which is read, the coachmen wearing powdered wigs and cocked hats. The princess leaves Antwerp on Thursday her marriage takes place Tuesday the 10th at Windsor. The Times “Standard” and all the journals of London are already full of advertisements for seats to see the royal procession as it passes through the city. Many of these seats will rent from ten to twenty Stg. The front of a house on the Strand rented for 1000 lb, a fortune in it self.
March 20th.
The great show is over, the princess Alexandra became Princess of Wales on Tuesday the 10th. Owing to the Queens being in such deep affliction, the marriage took place in St. Georges Chapel, Windsor; and in the afternoon the happy pair left for Osborne, Isle of Wight.
King Leopold’s present to the bride was a set of black lace, and the Duchess of Brabant’s, a white set. Rubies and emeralds, pearls and diamonds, were showered upon her, but I wish her, as I would any young bride, a greater blessing than all these baubles, I wish her married life may be even half so happy as mine. She cannot be more blessed than this.
It has been ascertained that many persons were crushed to death on Saturday when the Royal procession passed through London. In one spot seven women were found who had fallen in the crowd, and been trampled under feet.
The princess Alexandra with all her suite arrived today. The park and the “place” before the palace, were both crowded with spectators. After waiting for more than an hour the “chaupeurs” came in sight, and we know then the pageant was approaching. In the first carriage rode the fair princess and her mother, on the back seats, in front of the Duchess with the prince of Denmark. The Count of Flandres(sic) with the other less distinguished royal personages followed. The court equifrages were decked out in the gala livery, which is read, the coachmen wearing powdered wigs and cocked hats. The princess leaves Antwerp on Thursday her marriage takes place Tuesday the 10th at Windsor. The Times “Standard” and all the journals of London are already full of advertisements for seats to see the royal procession as it passes through the city. Many of these seats will rent from ten to twenty Stg. The front of a house on the Strand rented for 1000 lb, a fortune in it self.
March 20th.
The great show is over, the princess Alexandra became Princess of Wales on Tuesday the 10th. Owing to the Queens being in such deep affliction, the marriage took place in St. Georges Chapel, Windsor; and in the afternoon the happy pair left for Osborne, Isle of Wight.
King Leopold’s present to the bride was a set of black lace, and the Duchess of Brabant’s, a white set. Rubies and emeralds, pearls and diamonds, were showered upon her, but I wish her, as I would any young bride, a greater blessing than all these baubles, I wish her married life may be even half so happy as mine. She cannot be more blessed than this.
It has been ascertained that many persons were crushed to death on Saturday when the Royal procession passed through London. In one spot seven women were found who had fallen in the crowd, and been trampled under feet.
Brussels November 1862
Monday November 3rd
Father has just received an important letter from Mr Slidell in which he gives an account of his second emperor of the French. Napoleon showed him an autograph letter from King Leopold in which he urged the recognition of the South. The Kings letter was dated October 15, a few days after Father’s note to M. Rogier, which was doubtless shown to His Majesty. Pa left at 2 yesterday for Paris and London; something important will result from this trip.
Wednesday 4th
Willie went with Eva La Conte & myself to Antwerp. The town is on the Escault (Scheldt), the docks were constructed by Napoleon, and can receive two thousand ships. The women have “lappels” on their capes which hang down their cheeks and over this some wear a shocking(?) straw bonnet which stands on their head like a pyramid The cathedral of Notre Dame has never been finished and although the interior is grand I do not admire its spire as much as that of the Hotel de Ville” in Brussels. Rubens “chef d’oeuvre” The Descent from the Cross” charmed me more than anything I have yet seen of his works. “The elevation of the cross” I did not lik(sic) so much. Fine carved wood, the pulpit especially. In front the cathedral a work in iron by a blacksmith Quentin Matozs. In one of the side chapels is a face of our Saviour on marble, said to be by Leonardo da Venci, it is full of purity and resembles other works of this great master. Rubens is buried in the church of St. Iagnies. There is here a touching picture of the “Saviour Crucified” by Van Dyck. On entering the church of St. Paul there is a strange representation of Mount Calvary, built by a converted Jew. The ordeal of Purgatory is a frightful thing, and I expect most ignorant people willingly throw a few centimes in the box near the scene , to buy relatives out of this place of torment. In the church is a picture the “Scourging of Christ” by Rubens. Teniers, Van Dyck, Sneiders and Jordaens were born in Antwerp.
Father has just received an important letter from Mr Slidell in which he gives an account of his second emperor of the French. Napoleon showed him an autograph letter from King Leopold in which he urged the recognition of the South. The Kings letter was dated October 15, a few days after Father’s note to M. Rogier, which was doubtless shown to His Majesty. Pa left at 2 yesterday for Paris and London; something important will result from this trip.
Wednesday 4th
Willie went with Eva La Conte & myself to Antwerp. The town is on the Escault (Scheldt), the docks were constructed by Napoleon, and can receive two thousand ships. The women have “lappels” on their capes which hang down their cheeks and over this some wear a shocking(?) straw bonnet which stands on their head like a pyramid The cathedral of Notre Dame has never been finished and although the interior is grand I do not admire its spire as much as that of the Hotel de Ville” in Brussels. Rubens “chef d’oeuvre” The Descent from the Cross” charmed me more than anything I have yet seen of his works. “The elevation of the cross” I did not lik(sic) so much. Fine carved wood, the pulpit especially. In front the cathedral a work in iron by a blacksmith Quentin Matozs. In one of the side chapels is a face of our Saviour on marble, said to be by Leonardo da Venci, it is full of purity and resembles other works of this great master. Rubens is buried in the church of St. Iagnies. There is here a touching picture of the “Saviour Crucified” by Van Dyck. On entering the church of St. Paul there is a strange representation of Mount Calvary, built by a converted Jew. The ordeal of Purgatory is a frightful thing, and I expect most ignorant people willingly throw a few centimes in the box near the scene , to buy relatives out of this place of torment. In the church is a picture the “Scourging of Christ” by Rubens. Teniers, Van Dyck, Sneiders and Jordaens were born in Antwerp.
Brussels October 1862
Brussels October Monday 20 / 62
My darling Willie left me today with Pa. The last dispatches from Richmond were for Father, neither Mason or Slidell receiving any. Pa was requested to leave immediately for Copenhagen, and represent to Mr Hall, (minister of foreign affairs) the treachery of which we suspected the Yankees in sending Confederate slaves to the Danish possessions in the West Indies, under the pretense they had been captured on Slavers. Willie acted as Pa’s secretary and they were delighted with their success, Mr Hall, receiving them as if our country had already been recognized.
My darling Willie left me today with Pa. The last dispatches from Richmond were for Father, neither Mason or Slidell receiving any. Pa was requested to leave immediately for Copenhagen, and represent to Mr Hall, (minister of foreign affairs) the treachery of which we suspected the Yankees in sending Confederate slaves to the Danish possessions in the West Indies, under the pretense they had been captured on Slavers. Willie acted as Pa’s secretary and they were delighted with their success, Mr Hall, receiving them as if our country had already been recognized.
Brussels Independence 30th Anniversary 1862
Wednesday Sept 17.
Went to Groenendael in the cars and then walked to Waterloo. Climbed the mount on which stands the proud ion looking defiantly towards France. The battle took place in reality at Mont St. Jean, but as Wellington dated his dispatches from the field, it has always been called that of Waterloo. Visited the slaughter pens of la Haze Sainte and Goumont.
Most historians agree in stating the English were being driven from the field when the Prussian general Blucher came to their assistance. Had it not been for the carelessness of perhaps treachery of Grouchy the French would not now look back with shame to June 18. 1815. We returned by the forest of Soignes.
Wednesday 26
Since the 22nd Brussels has been turned upside down owing to the fetes which celebrate the 30th anniversary of Belgium independence. Mrs Williams and almost all the Southerners we know here, came to our gallery to see the king and his suite pass by. Leopold is now in his 74 year but looks much better than could be expected after his severe illness. The Duchess of Brabant sat next to the King, the Duke on the front seat with the Count of Flanders. The children of the Duke, the Count of Hainault and the princess Louise Marie Amelie followed in the next carriage. The sea of heads in the street kept rolling to and fro and when the King appeared so great was the enthusiasm that his carriage was almost dragged along by the crowd.
Went to Groenendael in the cars and then walked to Waterloo. Climbed the mount on which stands the proud ion looking defiantly towards France. The battle took place in reality at Mont St. Jean, but as Wellington dated his dispatches from the field, it has always been called that of Waterloo. Visited the slaughter pens of la Haze Sainte and Goumont.
Most historians agree in stating the English were being driven from the field when the Prussian general Blucher came to their assistance. Had it not been for the carelessness of perhaps treachery of Grouchy the French would not now look back with shame to June 18. 1815. We returned by the forest of Soignes.
Wednesday 26
Since the 22nd Brussels has been turned upside down owing to the fetes which celebrate the 30th anniversary of Belgium independence. Mrs Williams and almost all the Southerners we know here, came to our gallery to see the king and his suite pass by. Leopold is now in his 74 year but looks much better than could be expected after his severe illness. The Duchess of Brabant sat next to the King, the Duke on the front seat with the Count of Flanders. The children of the Duke, the Count of Hainault and the princess Louise Marie Amelie followed in the next carriage. The sea of heads in the street kept rolling to and fro and when the King appeared so great was the enthusiasm that his carriage was almost dragged along by the crowd.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Brussels July August September 1862
Brussels July 25.
Four months have passed since I last wrote in my diary and few changes have happened. As yet I have seen very little of Brussels. I have seen some lace manufactoire, and wonder at the patience the poor women had to bend for hours over a cushion making white lace. For their days labor they receive 50 centimes (10 cts). The black lace is made in the environs of Brussels. We attended a “Te Deum” at St. Gudules a few days __. The Duke and Duchess were present and many other distinguished personages, among the number Mr. Goodrich, who during the absence of Sanford represents Yankeedom. He succeeded in making himself the laughing stock of the diplomatic corps.
We passed the “place des Martyres” on Wednesday. A handsome monument has been erected where many of the heroes, who fought for the independence of Belgium in 1830 fell.
August 9th
Thursday visited the Museum. One fine landscape by Claude Lorraine. Rubens Madonnas look like fat irish washerwomen. The collections of paintings is on the whole very poor. Our young friend, Eva Lecomte, has comcomced(sic) copying, she shows much talent for her age and will doubtless distinguish herself.
The weather here at present is what we have in November. It is true we have had one or two summer days, which have not prevented my wearing flannel.
Monday September 8th
Read our Presidents message dated Richmond August 15 1862, also a sketch of his life written by Father (note: Judge Robert Nash Ogden b 1804 Hillsboro, N.C. d. “Okeden” Bay St. Louis Mississippi m. Frances Sophia Nicholson).
Saw the Prince of Wales pass in the fine court equifrages. He is on a visit to his uncle King Leopold, and has come to meet his affianced bride, the princess Alexandra of Denemark(sic).
Mr. Gregory M. P. dined with us. He is one of the Confederates best friends and a charming gentleman.
There are now two great questions that interest Europe, the American or(?) Italien(sic). From all the late news we think that our hero Stonewall Jackson, has gained a great victory over that little scamp Pope. If this be true and we then take Washington, Pa (note: Willie’ s father – her father-in-law Ambrose Dudley Mann) thinks the great powers in Europe will immediately recognize us. “ If it had not been the Lord who was on our side, when men rose up against us: then they had swallowed us up quick, when their wrath was kindled. Blessed be the Lord who hath not given us as a prey to their teeth”. Since the arrest of Garibaldi which occurred during the engagement at Aspromonte on the ________ Italy has relapsed in to comparitive silence. Garibaldi is confined at Strezzia (?); he has certainly done too much for Italy to be now in danger of severe treatment by his country men. In wishing to drive the french from Rome he did what every Italien(sic) longs to see accomplished, and therefore the “purity of his motives shoul(sic) justify him”.
Saturday Sept 13 1862.
Walked a few days ago with Mrs Le Comte to Lacken, the kings country seat. Not much to be seen, fine “caserne” near the palace, “estaminents” and “cabarets” abound on the roadside.
Mr. Reuter dined with us yesterday. There is no man whose name is so often mentioned in the papers, as almost all dispatches come by “Reuters Telegraph”.
Monday September 15 1862
Saw the Prince of Wales yesterday and day before. No striking difference between himself and twenty other young Englishmen. The Princess Alexandra of Denmark is quite pretty.
Heard on Sunday of our second great victory at “Bull’s Run”. God be praised for His mercy. Father (note: Ambrose Dudley Mann) knocked at our door this morning and said the most important news had just arrived. I guessed immediately what it was; that he had received news from our good friend Mr. Gregory, stating that our recognition was near at hand. This proved to be true. Mr Gregory was told so by Lord Haftesberry(?), who exercises great influence over Lord Palmerton.
Wednesday Sept 17.
Went to Groenendael in the cars and then walked to Waterloo. Climbed the mount on which stands the proud ion looking defiantly towards France. The battle took place in reality at Mont St. Jean, but as Wellington dated his dispatches from the field, it has always been called that of Waterloo. Visited the slaughter pens of la Haze Sainte and Goumont.
Most historians agree in stating the English were being driven from the field when the Prussian general Blucher came to their assistance. Had it not been for the carelessness of perhaps treachery of Grouchy the French would not now look back with shame to June 18. 1815. We returned by the forest of Soignes.
Four months have passed since I last wrote in my diary and few changes have happened. As yet I have seen very little of Brussels. I have seen some lace manufactoire, and wonder at the patience the poor women had to bend for hours over a cushion making white lace. For their days labor they receive 50 centimes (10 cts). The black lace is made in the environs of Brussels. We attended a “Te Deum” at St. Gudules a few days __. The Duke and Duchess were present and many other distinguished personages, among the number Mr. Goodrich, who during the absence of Sanford represents Yankeedom. He succeeded in making himself the laughing stock of the diplomatic corps.
We passed the “place des Martyres” on Wednesday. A handsome monument has been erected where many of the heroes, who fought for the independence of Belgium in 1830 fell.
August 9th
Thursday visited the Museum. One fine landscape by Claude Lorraine. Rubens Madonnas look like fat irish washerwomen. The collections of paintings is on the whole very poor. Our young friend, Eva Lecomte, has comcomced(sic) copying, she shows much talent for her age and will doubtless distinguish herself.
The weather here at present is what we have in November. It is true we have had one or two summer days, which have not prevented my wearing flannel.
Monday September 8th
Read our Presidents message dated Richmond August 15 1862, also a sketch of his life written by Father (note: Judge Robert Nash Ogden b 1804 Hillsboro, N.C. d. “Okeden” Bay St. Louis Mississippi m. Frances Sophia Nicholson).
Saw the Prince of Wales pass in the fine court equifrages. He is on a visit to his uncle King Leopold, and has come to meet his affianced bride, the princess Alexandra of Denemark(sic).
Mr. Gregory M. P. dined with us. He is one of the Confederates best friends and a charming gentleman.
There are now two great questions that interest Europe, the American or(?) Italien(sic). From all the late news we think that our hero Stonewall Jackson, has gained a great victory over that little scamp Pope. If this be true and we then take Washington, Pa (note: Willie’ s father – her father-in-law Ambrose Dudley Mann) thinks the great powers in Europe will immediately recognize us. “ If it had not been the Lord who was on our side, when men rose up against us: then they had swallowed us up quick, when their wrath was kindled. Blessed be the Lord who hath not given us as a prey to their teeth”. Since the arrest of Garibaldi which occurred during the engagement at Aspromonte on the ________ Italy has relapsed in to comparitive silence. Garibaldi is confined at Strezzia (?); he has certainly done too much for Italy to be now in danger of severe treatment by his country men. In wishing to drive the french from Rome he did what every Italien(sic) longs to see accomplished, and therefore the “purity of his motives shoul(sic) justify him”.
Saturday Sept 13 1862.
Walked a few days ago with Mrs Le Comte to Lacken, the kings country seat. Not much to be seen, fine “caserne” near the palace, “estaminents” and “cabarets” abound on the roadside.
Mr. Reuter dined with us yesterday. There is no man whose name is so often mentioned in the papers, as almost all dispatches come by “Reuters Telegraph”.
Monday September 15 1862
Saw the Prince of Wales yesterday and day before. No striking difference between himself and twenty other young Englishmen. The Princess Alexandra of Denmark is quite pretty.
Heard on Sunday of our second great victory at “Bull’s Run”. God be praised for His mercy. Father (note: Ambrose Dudley Mann) knocked at our door this morning and said the most important news had just arrived. I guessed immediately what it was; that he had received news from our good friend Mr. Gregory, stating that our recognition was near at hand. This proved to be true. Mr Gregory was told so by Lord Haftesberry(?), who exercises great influence over Lord Palmerton.
Wednesday Sept 17.
Went to Groenendael in the cars and then walked to Waterloo. Climbed the mount on which stands the proud ion looking defiantly towards France. The battle took place in reality at Mont St. Jean, but as Wellington dated his dispatches from the field, it has always been called that of Waterloo. Visited the slaughter pens of la Haze Sainte and Goumont.
Most historians agree in stating the English were being driven from the field when the Prussian general Blucher came to their assistance. Had it not been for the carelessness of perhaps treachery of Grouchy the French would not now look back with shame to June 18. 1815. We returned by the forest of Soignes.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Naples March 1862
Wednesday 12th
Left Rome at six; after crossing its muddy Tiber, and dirty streets for the last time, I felt no regrets at leaving the Eternal City. We took breakfast at he Chivita Vecehia (?) and soon left this den of, it seems unkind to say rogues, but I believe the people have become fond of the title, and look on it as we do that of colonel or any other such. Chiveta Vecchia (?) is bad enough, but it is pleasant to think of its honesty when compared with Naples. I believe there is no other place where the people make so “much ado about nothing”. Where the boatmen scream at each other in such a way (in fact every body does) that it is impossible to think it will end without blows or something worse. Where the lazavoni(?) sings a sweet “io ti voglis bene assai”(?) under your window, and where the Women throw up their arms apparently in great anguish, because the fishmonger has perhaps charged a “guano” (?) too much for his fish.
I fear the babylon of Italy is almost a moral city when compared with Naples a second sink of iniquity. God grant the idols and superstitions may soon be destroyed, and that a sane (?) religion where where God will be worshipped in sincerity and truth may reform this degraded race. There are only two good streets in Naples the Chiacia (?) and the vis Toledo(?), all the others are narrow and filthy, We spent several hours at the “Museo Barbonico (?).” The most interesting statues were the Tarnenza (?) bull and Hercules a statue of Jupiter Imiosa (?), of Diana of Ephesisus of Antinous of Cicero Demosthanes Homer, Aristides, and busts of Seneca, Geno, Herodites, Xenaphron, Euripides Pato, and many others, most of the found at the Herculaneaum. Much of the papyrus with ancient writing was found in the same way, great pains is taken to unroll the scrolls in order to decipher the writing. The vases from Pompei Eluria (?) and Greece equal the descriptions we have so often seen of them. The kitchen utensils from Pompei and Herculaneum resemble our own. We saw rice and other grain which had been coverd by lava or ashes and thus preserved. Eggs looking as fresh as if they had been laid yesterday, figs and prunes all as black as coal. Visited the Church of St. January where the blood of the patron saint is kept, which the priests can liquefy at their pleasure.
Friday 14.
Lake Agname (?) on the road to Baine (?) was once occupied by a ___?, remnants of which are now beneath its waters. On its banks are three interesting grottos, first “ del cane” where a dog is held in for a few minutes and when taken out has been almost killed by the vapors. In another a man could not lie down five minutes without dying from the vapors of ammonia. In a third the walls are covered with hot sulphur, and smoke is coming out of the ground. In each grotto my feet were burnt by the heat. The “Lulfatara”.(?) with its dreadful rumbling and smoke looks as if it might well be one of the gates of hell. At Passouli (?) are the ruins of an amphitheatre, and those of a temple dedicated to Jupiter Serapius (?). Lake Avernus ? one? the cave of the Sybil(?) on its banks was more interesting than I can ever describe. Here it was that Enemas plucked the golden bow that gave him the power to visit the infernal regions. Without the magic bow but on the shoulders of strong men and with torches, we passed through the dark caves. The classes shores of Baine, the islands of Itchier, and Proceed, and Capri, cape Misname are all delightful remembrances of the past. Baiae? is now abandonded to beggars and fisherman, and the palaces that once belonged to Caesar, Nero, and Cicero are being washed away by the sea. In the ruined temples of Venus some of the “contadine” danced the “tarantala” which is not as graceful as our negro dances. Returning to Naples we passed again through the dark grotto of Pausilipes (?) which our cecirone said was the work of the devil. We drove through with shepards driving their flocks, with woman children and beggars, with “coricolas”? crowded by fourteen or fifteen persons and drawn by what Dumas calls “un cheval mort”.? Over the grotto is a monument which all strangers rush to see and which they call the tomb of Virgil. This is said to be a great mistake but as no one as found his real tomb, I will believe it to be the very spot on which we stood.
Saturday 15.
This has been our most delightful day in Naples. We drove through the city which is one of the busiest in the world, no one seems too lazy but the “lazaronis”. Arriving at Portici we descended to Herculaneum over which the present town is built. The theater is under ground but late excavations are exposed to the sun as at Pompei. “Torre del Greco” is the town that suffered so much from the late earthquake and eruption of Vesuvius. We proceeded to Pompeii and spent the day amongst its wonderful ruins. Much of the city has been recently excavated and as the ashes are removed form the frescoes they look as they had been painted yesterday. Each house has its garden on which every room opens, they rooms are very small and without windows or fireplaces. One room in the house was heated by pipes in the wall just as we do at the present. A small piece of window glass has been found and which shows that though the ancient did not use it as we do at least they knew what it was. Their kitchens and ovens were like our own, and in them were found bread cake chicken and fish bones, besides the utensils which belonged to them, all of which are kept in the museum. The house of Sallust and Deomede ? are shown. In the latter is an impressions of a womans figure who took refuge in one of the cellars. The Appian way lead to Rome and was on both sides used as a burying ground. These tombs having for so long been buried by the ashes are better preserved than those on the same road near Rome. Before our drive home in the evening I had never realized the magic beauty of Italian scenary. The moon had risen over Vesuvius , Capri, Itchier, Procida, Misname, Baiae, were all veiled in hues the azure sky might envy, hues, the artist has never caught, hues which none can create but “natures own sweet and cunning hand.”
Thursday 20th
We returned yesterday from our delightful trip to Sorrento. Early Monday morning we took a carriage at Naples and after passing the fields of lava, the shattered house of “Torre del Greco”, the fertile valleys, and the town of Castellamare, we soon approached the orange groves of Sorrento. To me who has lived in our delightful climate, and has in January seen gardens full of flowers, Sorrento cannot produce the same as on an Englishman or Russian. One of the chief charms of Sorrento to me was the industry of the people. As we ascended one of rocky hills and saw with what care it was cultivated, we thought the people almost deserved the name of Swiss. The view, from what had once been a monastery, was beautiful as a dream; it would not be otherwise when composed of the bays of Salerno and the Naples of Vesuvius with its terrible crater resting in the clouds, and at its feet the villages who with reason tremble at every groan their great enemy utters. Towards Salerno is Paestum (?) with its admirably preserved ruins , and Amalphi, ages past one of Italy’s greatest cities, and celebrated as the place where the Pondets (?) was found. Tuesday morning we set out in a small boat for Capri. On each promontory along the coast are ruined towers built by the Taracans(?) when Calabria and almost all of this country was held by them. On arriving at the azure grotto a little boat approached us which we entered, and pushing through the low aperture we launched on the blue water of the grotto. As we rowed back to Capri the tinges of the water were as various as they were beautiful. The blue of the grotto contrasted with the dark hues of the Mediterranean, near the shore the water in many spots was entirely green, and in the sand below the moss and pebbles danced in fantastic garbs.
Who can forget the scene on the beach at Capri? Women with saddled donkeys, men with horses, cicevones doing their best to entrap you, children trying to sell black coral, girls clamoring to be paid because you put your foot on their bench on leaving your boat.
We quieted on woman by taking her donkey, with the assistance of her whips which she never spared we reached the ruins which were once the palace of Tiberius, a place is shown called “salto de Tiberio”, but I did not know that he added suicide to his other crimes. We went to the chapel which a lonely hermit guards. His form was emaciated and at his side hung the knotted cord with which I suppose he mortified the flesh. I felt we were talking to one of a different sphere and watched this poor hermit, and I wondered what “Angilina” had caused his doom. He brough(sic) out the strangers book and Willie wrote down our name besides giving him a small pittance which is requested of visiters(sic). The view from the terrace surpassed the one at Sorrento for in addition to the two gulfs we saw the broad ocean and the Sirens islands dreaded by Ulysses and Enemas. The island of Capri is celebrated for its mild climate which in some cases of consumption is very beneficial. The paths are narrow and only to be ascended on foot or on donkeys. The fruit trees are in blossom, the peach is blushing at the whiteness of the pear, and the vines are looped from tree to tree. We get in our boat and there is another clamor for more money. The woman whose donkey we hired jumps in the boat and declares her “buona mano” is not enough, the sailors do not mind her and begin to row home. She soon jumps back to shore, thanks us for paying her more than she expected, and wishes us a good journey!
The baths of queen Jane(?) were built on an ancient temple of Hercules, but they are both in ruins now and all that remains is what may be called a grotto where baths are still taken in summer. At five in the evening we left Sorrento on out way to Naples although the driver and hotel keeper told us the road was not safe at night. I began to be alarmed on reaching Castellamare, and requested Willie to inquire of a guard, who could have no interest in detaining us another night, whether we had anything to apprehend. He assured us the road was unsafe and advised us not to run any risk. We drove to an immense hotel which requires a novelist to fill with frightful forms. We were conducted through mosaic floored halls and rooms until we reached one which was prepared for our use. On our way to Naples the next morning, I was glad that we had not again passed the lonely fields of black lava at night; although we wondered at a government which did not protect travelers from robbers within eight or ten miles of one of the largest cities of Europe.
Saturday 22nd
Left Naples with cheerful hearts unlike most travelers. I could not admire the fading beauties of Vesuvius, Procida or Itchier, clad as they were in their evening shades. Souvinirs(sic) of all kinds were soon lost to me, Naples with its charm, filth, and rogues, nor could I admire the islands of Sardinia , Corsica and Elba that we passed; was there ever philosopher that could endure seasickness, it is worse than toothache. We arrived in Marseilles on the 26th, I believe all travelers feel as we did on arriving once more in a civilized country. Poor Italy, I fear that with such a degraded race it will require years to form a solid government. We had only a few hours to admire the fine port, streets and stores of Marseilles, we left at half past nine on our way to Paris and after passing many interesting cities, such as Avignon, once the Papal See, Lyons, the great manufacturing town where the Rhone and the Savone meet, Dijon, formerly the seat of the great dukes of Burgundy, and a lovely country celebrated for its wines we were again in the great city which for beauty stands unrivaled. We left very soon for Brussels and so tired had I become of sights, that is passing I took little interest in Mons (?) celebrated for its siege. It delights me to be in this charming capital where I think I will let months pass without seeing any sights.
Left Rome at six; after crossing its muddy Tiber, and dirty streets for the last time, I felt no regrets at leaving the Eternal City. We took breakfast at he Chivita Vecehia (?) and soon left this den of, it seems unkind to say rogues, but I believe the people have become fond of the title, and look on it as we do that of colonel or any other such. Chiveta Vecchia (?) is bad enough, but it is pleasant to think of its honesty when compared with Naples. I believe there is no other place where the people make so “much ado about nothing”. Where the boatmen scream at each other in such a way (in fact every body does) that it is impossible to think it will end without blows or something worse. Where the lazavoni(?) sings a sweet “io ti voglis bene assai”(?) under your window, and where the Women throw up their arms apparently in great anguish, because the fishmonger has perhaps charged a “guano” (?) too much for his fish.
I fear the babylon of Italy is almost a moral city when compared with Naples a second sink of iniquity. God grant the idols and superstitions may soon be destroyed, and that a sane (?) religion where where God will be worshipped in sincerity and truth may reform this degraded race. There are only two good streets in Naples the Chiacia (?) and the vis Toledo(?), all the others are narrow and filthy, We spent several hours at the “Museo Barbonico (?).” The most interesting statues were the Tarnenza (?) bull and Hercules a statue of Jupiter Imiosa (?), of Diana of Ephesisus of Antinous of Cicero Demosthanes Homer, Aristides, and busts of Seneca, Geno, Herodites, Xenaphron, Euripides Pato, and many others, most of the found at the Herculaneaum. Much of the papyrus with ancient writing was found in the same way, great pains is taken to unroll the scrolls in order to decipher the writing. The vases from Pompei Eluria (?) and Greece equal the descriptions we have so often seen of them. The kitchen utensils from Pompei and Herculaneum resemble our own. We saw rice and other grain which had been coverd by lava or ashes and thus preserved. Eggs looking as fresh as if they had been laid yesterday, figs and prunes all as black as coal. Visited the Church of St. January where the blood of the patron saint is kept, which the priests can liquefy at their pleasure.
Friday 14.
Lake Agname (?) on the road to Baine (?) was once occupied by a ___?, remnants of which are now beneath its waters. On its banks are three interesting grottos, first “ del cane” where a dog is held in for a few minutes and when taken out has been almost killed by the vapors. In another a man could not lie down five minutes without dying from the vapors of ammonia. In a third the walls are covered with hot sulphur, and smoke is coming out of the ground. In each grotto my feet were burnt by the heat. The “Lulfatara”.(?) with its dreadful rumbling and smoke looks as if it might well be one of the gates of hell. At Passouli (?) are the ruins of an amphitheatre, and those of a temple dedicated to Jupiter Serapius (?). Lake Avernus ? one? the cave of the Sybil(?) on its banks was more interesting than I can ever describe. Here it was that Enemas plucked the golden bow that gave him the power to visit the infernal regions. Without the magic bow but on the shoulders of strong men and with torches, we passed through the dark caves. The classes shores of Baine, the islands of Itchier, and Proceed, and Capri, cape Misname are all delightful remembrances of the past. Baiae? is now abandonded to beggars and fisherman, and the palaces that once belonged to Caesar, Nero, and Cicero are being washed away by the sea. In the ruined temples of Venus some of the “contadine” danced the “tarantala” which is not as graceful as our negro dances. Returning to Naples we passed again through the dark grotto of Pausilipes (?) which our cecirone said was the work of the devil. We drove through with shepards driving their flocks, with woman children and beggars, with “coricolas”? crowded by fourteen or fifteen persons and drawn by what Dumas calls “un cheval mort”.? Over the grotto is a monument which all strangers rush to see and which they call the tomb of Virgil. This is said to be a great mistake but as no one as found his real tomb, I will believe it to be the very spot on which we stood.
Saturday 15.
This has been our most delightful day in Naples. We drove through the city which is one of the busiest in the world, no one seems too lazy but the “lazaronis”. Arriving at Portici we descended to Herculaneum over which the present town is built. The theater is under ground but late excavations are exposed to the sun as at Pompei. “Torre del Greco” is the town that suffered so much from the late earthquake and eruption of Vesuvius. We proceeded to Pompeii and spent the day amongst its wonderful ruins. Much of the city has been recently excavated and as the ashes are removed form the frescoes they look as they had been painted yesterday. Each house has its garden on which every room opens, they rooms are very small and without windows or fireplaces. One room in the house was heated by pipes in the wall just as we do at the present. A small piece of window glass has been found and which shows that though the ancient did not use it as we do at least they knew what it was. Their kitchens and ovens were like our own, and in them were found bread cake chicken and fish bones, besides the utensils which belonged to them, all of which are kept in the museum. The house of Sallust and Deomede ? are shown. In the latter is an impressions of a womans figure who took refuge in one of the cellars. The Appian way lead to Rome and was on both sides used as a burying ground. These tombs having for so long been buried by the ashes are better preserved than those on the same road near Rome. Before our drive home in the evening I had never realized the magic beauty of Italian scenary. The moon had risen over Vesuvius , Capri, Itchier, Procida, Misname, Baiae, were all veiled in hues the azure sky might envy, hues, the artist has never caught, hues which none can create but “natures own sweet and cunning hand.”
Thursday 20th
We returned yesterday from our delightful trip to Sorrento. Early Monday morning we took a carriage at Naples and after passing the fields of lava, the shattered house of “Torre del Greco”, the fertile valleys, and the town of Castellamare, we soon approached the orange groves of Sorrento. To me who has lived in our delightful climate, and has in January seen gardens full of flowers, Sorrento cannot produce the same as on an Englishman or Russian. One of the chief charms of Sorrento to me was the industry of the people. As we ascended one of rocky hills and saw with what care it was cultivated, we thought the people almost deserved the name of Swiss. The view, from what had once been a monastery, was beautiful as a dream; it would not be otherwise when composed of the bays of Salerno and the Naples of Vesuvius with its terrible crater resting in the clouds, and at its feet the villages who with reason tremble at every groan their great enemy utters. Towards Salerno is Paestum (?) with its admirably preserved ruins , and Amalphi, ages past one of Italy’s greatest cities, and celebrated as the place where the Pondets (?) was found. Tuesday morning we set out in a small boat for Capri. On each promontory along the coast are ruined towers built by the Taracans(?) when Calabria and almost all of this country was held by them. On arriving at the azure grotto a little boat approached us which we entered, and pushing through the low aperture we launched on the blue water of the grotto. As we rowed back to Capri the tinges of the water were as various as they were beautiful. The blue of the grotto contrasted with the dark hues of the Mediterranean, near the shore the water in many spots was entirely green, and in the sand below the moss and pebbles danced in fantastic garbs.
Who can forget the scene on the beach at Capri? Women with saddled donkeys, men with horses, cicevones doing their best to entrap you, children trying to sell black coral, girls clamoring to be paid because you put your foot on their bench on leaving your boat.
We quieted on woman by taking her donkey, with the assistance of her whips which she never spared we reached the ruins which were once the palace of Tiberius, a place is shown called “salto de Tiberio”, but I did not know that he added suicide to his other crimes. We went to the chapel which a lonely hermit guards. His form was emaciated and at his side hung the knotted cord with which I suppose he mortified the flesh. I felt we were talking to one of a different sphere and watched this poor hermit, and I wondered what “Angilina” had caused his doom. He brough(sic) out the strangers book and Willie wrote down our name besides giving him a small pittance which is requested of visiters(sic). The view from the terrace surpassed the one at Sorrento for in addition to the two gulfs we saw the broad ocean and the Sirens islands dreaded by Ulysses and Enemas. The island of Capri is celebrated for its mild climate which in some cases of consumption is very beneficial. The paths are narrow and only to be ascended on foot or on donkeys. The fruit trees are in blossom, the peach is blushing at the whiteness of the pear, and the vines are looped from tree to tree. We get in our boat and there is another clamor for more money. The woman whose donkey we hired jumps in the boat and declares her “buona mano” is not enough, the sailors do not mind her and begin to row home. She soon jumps back to shore, thanks us for paying her more than she expected, and wishes us a good journey!
The baths of queen Jane(?) were built on an ancient temple of Hercules, but they are both in ruins now and all that remains is what may be called a grotto where baths are still taken in summer. At five in the evening we left Sorrento on out way to Naples although the driver and hotel keeper told us the road was not safe at night. I began to be alarmed on reaching Castellamare, and requested Willie to inquire of a guard, who could have no interest in detaining us another night, whether we had anything to apprehend. He assured us the road was unsafe and advised us not to run any risk. We drove to an immense hotel which requires a novelist to fill with frightful forms. We were conducted through mosaic floored halls and rooms until we reached one which was prepared for our use. On our way to Naples the next morning, I was glad that we had not again passed the lonely fields of black lava at night; although we wondered at a government which did not protect travelers from robbers within eight or ten miles of one of the largest cities of Europe.
Saturday 22nd
Left Naples with cheerful hearts unlike most travelers. I could not admire the fading beauties of Vesuvius, Procida or Itchier, clad as they were in their evening shades. Souvinirs(sic) of all kinds were soon lost to me, Naples with its charm, filth, and rogues, nor could I admire the islands of Sardinia , Corsica and Elba that we passed; was there ever philosopher that could endure seasickness, it is worse than toothache. We arrived in Marseilles on the 26th, I believe all travelers feel as we did on arriving once more in a civilized country. Poor Italy, I fear that with such a degraded race it will require years to form a solid government. We had only a few hours to admire the fine port, streets and stores of Marseilles, we left at half past nine on our way to Paris and after passing many interesting cities, such as Avignon, once the Papal See, Lyons, the great manufacturing town where the Rhone and the Savone meet, Dijon, formerly the seat of the great dukes of Burgundy, and a lovely country celebrated for its wines we were again in the great city which for beauty stands unrivaled. We left very soon for Brussels and so tired had I become of sights, that is passing I took little interest in Mons (?) celebrated for its siege. It delights me to be in this charming capital where I think I will let months pass without seeing any sights.
Friday, October 2, 2009
Rome March 1862
Sunday March 2nd
This has been our most delightful day in Rome, we have seen the Catacombs. These dark caves in which the eye of heaven never entered is truly sacred ground. The alters at which our persecuted fathers knelt, the tombs in which their bodies were found, the frescoes on the walls representing the miracles of our Savoiur, which the painter had probably witnessed. Himself who can resist their solemn influence? The catacombs occupy a space of 660 miles under ground. St. Callixtus the one we visited is amongst the finest.
The tomb of Caecilia Metella, wife of Crassus one of the triumverent, not withstanding the purposes it has served is still admirably preserved, and may yet serve as a fort when another civil war breaks out in Rome. We rode over part of the Appian Way where St. Paul speaks of the Romans coming to meet him. Much uncertainity exists about all the monuments, one is believed to be that of Seneca, another that of the Horatii. Near here is supposed to be the spot where the fate of Rome was decided. I believe there is no scene more lovely than the Campagna of Rome. The mountains seem to be ? ? in the azure sky, the aqueducts some in broken niches and others still watering Rome, the ruins scattered over the fields, these are what we dream of as a fairyland , and these are the charms of Rome. The Circus of Caravalla as it shows particularily to the antiquities as it shows the exact plan of the ancient ones. The fountain and woods of the nymph Egeria. Some imperious man says they are the ruins of a Villa but we cannot encourage such impiety, and therefore believe them to be the identical spots where Numa came to consult the goddess.
Tuesday 4th
Mardi gras is the last day of Carnival and in order to have a good view we took seats at the “Caffe Greco”. “Confetti” and bouquets were unmercifully thrown, and the race took place as usual but the great attraction was the “Ma?coli” at dark the whole Corso was illuminated by little wax candles and the excitement consisted in relinquishing as many as you could by throwing bouquets or anything else. There was a good natured fat priest next to me, and we took pleasure in putting out each others candles and then crying “ ? maccoli”.
Thursday 6th
Palazzo Colossa; fine room but few good pictures. In the garden are two immense cornices from the temple of the sun which stood on the Quirinal. Ruins of the baths of Constantine. We passed the church of Gesa(?) where Ignatius Loyola is interred, as it was closed we visited the Palazzo Strada(?) remarkable only for a statue of Pompiez(?) said to be the one at whose feet Caesar fell. This like every thing else in Rome is disputed.
Saturday 8th
Rose at six to go to Tivoli. Pass the baths of Discletien(?) built by the persecuted christians. A few miles from Rome is the lake Tartarus, it waters still petrify, but there are no poets now to celebrate it, and the birds regardless of its properties fly over it. The ancient road to Tivoli (then called Tiber) is still in many places preserved.. Hadrians villa, with its theatres, schools , and baths, was the favourite resort of the emperor, and it was here that most of the fine statues were found. Tivoli a summer retreat of the Romans, still preserves the ruins of fine villas. One is shown as that of Mecaenas the _____? Of letters, another as Horaces, a third as that if Quintilius Varus, the Cicerine assures you all this is true and in order to make it more positive quotes whole lines of Latin verses, We will not dispute the authority, but admire other things which require no ancient names to make them interesting. The “Grotto of Neptune” the Sirens cave, the Cascade and “cascatelles” are formed by the Anis now the Tiverone which separated Tivoli from the country of the Sabines. We dined under the temple of the Sybil (?) better preserved than anything in Rome although many centuries older.
This has been our most delightful day in Rome, we have seen the Catacombs. These dark caves in which the eye of heaven never entered is truly sacred ground. The alters at which our persecuted fathers knelt, the tombs in which their bodies were found, the frescoes on the walls representing the miracles of our Savoiur, which the painter had probably witnessed. Himself who can resist their solemn influence? The catacombs occupy a space of 660 miles under ground. St. Callixtus the one we visited is amongst the finest.
The tomb of Caecilia Metella, wife of Crassus one of the triumverent, not withstanding the purposes it has served is still admirably preserved, and may yet serve as a fort when another civil war breaks out in Rome. We rode over part of the Appian Way where St. Paul speaks of the Romans coming to meet him. Much uncertainity exists about all the monuments, one is believed to be that of Seneca, another that of the Horatii. Near here is supposed to be the spot where the fate of Rome was decided. I believe there is no scene more lovely than the Campagna of Rome. The mountains seem to be ? ? in the azure sky, the aqueducts some in broken niches and others still watering Rome, the ruins scattered over the fields, these are what we dream of as a fairyland , and these are the charms of Rome. The Circus of Caravalla as it shows particularily to the antiquities as it shows the exact plan of the ancient ones. The fountain and woods of the nymph Egeria. Some imperious man says they are the ruins of a Villa but we cannot encourage such impiety, and therefore believe them to be the identical spots where Numa came to consult the goddess.
Tuesday 4th
Mardi gras is the last day of Carnival and in order to have a good view we took seats at the “Caffe Greco”. “Confetti” and bouquets were unmercifully thrown, and the race took place as usual but the great attraction was the “Ma?coli” at dark the whole Corso was illuminated by little wax candles and the excitement consisted in relinquishing as many as you could by throwing bouquets or anything else. There was a good natured fat priest next to me, and we took pleasure in putting out each others candles and then crying “ ? maccoli”.
Thursday 6th
Palazzo Colossa; fine room but few good pictures. In the garden are two immense cornices from the temple of the sun which stood on the Quirinal. Ruins of the baths of Constantine. We passed the church of Gesa(?) where Ignatius Loyola is interred, as it was closed we visited the Palazzo Strada(?) remarkable only for a statue of Pompiez(?) said to be the one at whose feet Caesar fell. This like every thing else in Rome is disputed.
Saturday 8th
Rose at six to go to Tivoli. Pass the baths of Discletien(?) built by the persecuted christians. A few miles from Rome is the lake Tartarus, it waters still petrify, but there are no poets now to celebrate it, and the birds regardless of its properties fly over it. The ancient road to Tivoli (then called Tiber) is still in many places preserved.. Hadrians villa, with its theatres, schools , and baths, was the favourite resort of the emperor, and it was here that most of the fine statues were found. Tivoli a summer retreat of the Romans, still preserves the ruins of fine villas. One is shown as that of Mecaenas the _____? Of letters, another as Horaces, a third as that if Quintilius Varus, the Cicerine assures you all this is true and in order to make it more positive quotes whole lines of Latin verses, We will not dispute the authority, but admire other things which require no ancient names to make them interesting. The “Grotto of Neptune” the Sirens cave, the Cascade and “cascatelles” are formed by the Anis now the Tiverone which separated Tivoli from the country of the Sabines. We dined under the temple of the Sybil (?) better preserved than anything in Rome although many centuries older.
Rome February 1862
Diary of a Tour in Europe
Fannie O. Mann
From her loving husband
Rome, February 6, 1862
Rome February 11th/62
Walked to the Milvian Bridge, a celebrated spot in the history of Rome. It was near here that Constantine fought the great battle that made him master of the then known world, and where he saw the words “in hoc signo vinces” (in this sign you will conquer). We returned by the banks of the Tiber, and visited the Villa Doria, which unlike most of Rome, is kept with care and does not seem desolate.
Wednesday 12th
The Quarinal, one of the Seven hills is now mostly know as the “Monte Cavallo” owing to the equestrian statues, are said to be by Phidias, and the other by Praxiteles. They are so black from exposure and other bad treatment, that it is difficult to distinquish their original merits. Nearby is what remains of the temple of Mars that Augustus built to celebrate the battle against Brutus and Cassius at Philippi.
The ruins of the temple of Pallas in the forum of mercia are considered chaste specimens of ancient taste. The small brick tremple is that of Vesta, where the sacred fire - and Palladium were kept. Some consider it an old temple dedicated to Romulus, where mothers took their sick children to pray for their recovery, this customj like many other heathen ones is still observed, and has entwined itself with the catholic religion. One of the most interesting churches in Rome is that of St. maria in Cosmedin, built by on e of the early Popes under the emperor Gallien, after a successful issue of the second council at Antioche. In the vestibule is a large piece of marble with a face cut into it called “bocca della Verita” It was used by the Romans to prove a man’s innocence. If he could put his hands in the mouth without it being caught he was presumed “not guilty”.
The wonderful “cloaca maxima” still serves the Romans as it did their great ancestors. Pliny was amazed to see it in his days, it had been built 700 years, contemplating it eighteen centuries after Pliny, what should we think of it? The arch of “ Janus Quadrifrano” is seen as soon as you leave the Cloaca, We crossed the Ponte Rotto and passed through the Grand T? and the small island that Dacatus says was formed from the grain that fell in the Tiber. In the Piazza della Minerva is the church of Santa Maria Sopra Minerva, from its having been built over a temple dedicated to this goddess by Pomfiez. It is the only church that has something of the Gothic in its architecture. Statue by Michelangelo of our Saviour holding his cross. Monument of Leo X.
Friday 16th
I have never spoken of the Italians themselves or of their climate. In America, one hears so much of the mild air of Italy, that I have often thought to go there is a sure cure for any consumption. But wo to the poor invalid that come to this cold country. We were in Florence more than two months and the weather was mostly rainy and always cold. Snow fell several times, and one of our principal reasons in leaving was, because we had hope of finding it warmer in Rome. A few days since the snow fell here and the neighboring hills are I believe still covered. If during these cold spells the sun shines brightly, the English immediately complain of the “warm weather”.
The poor Italians know so little of solid comfort, that they cannot understand why a foreigner desires so many. Their own rooms are without carpet or fireplaces, and when it is very cold they fill a “veggis” (an earthern vessel) with coals, and place it in the middle of the room. In the street the women carry one under their aprons. We are living in an Italian family and I have never known them to be in anything but a good humour. The sister of our hostess waits on us, for which we pay two dollars a month. She is by no means as neat in her dress as our servant woman at home. But when her rich aunt (who is connected to the nobility having two sons in the “Guardia Nobile”! calls for her in her handsome equifrages(?), I have seen her look as fine as any lady. They have a strange dread of robbers here, the bell never rings without their calling out “shi e.”.
The morals of the upper class are said to be very corrupt, almost every woman in society is known to have her “cavalieri servante”, to which the husbands do not object. I fear the Italians are devoid of many of the higher principals, which I think is owing in a great measure to the corrupt state of their church. The men cannot believe in the superstitions that mostly compose their religion and I do not think they can trust in the relics, particularly such as these, “the milk of the virgin, some of the straw out of the Saviours cradle and the big toe of Mary Magdeleine.
The catholic church in Rome seems to be grafted on the old heathen foundation. In the Pope, we recognize the ancient Pontifex Maximus, a dignity the Emperors coveted and were proud to have it bestowed on them. The Vestal Virgins we see in the nuns. The heathen temples have been converted into churches, and representations of the ancient deities, into Madonna’s and saints. The statue of St. Peter, with one of it’s feet almost ______ away is in an old figure of Jupiter. The miracle working picture in the Pantheon, is said to have been changed from a picture of Venus to that of the Virgin. I have never before been so out and out a protestant surrounded as I am by what is called, all the splendour of the catholic church. In other countries there is a mash thrown over its real features; here it has fallen , and the vile thing stands forth in all its rottenness. When the Eternal City falls into the hands of Victor Emanuel, some reform must take place. He will at least turn half the monks into the army, as he has done in Tuscany, and the immense territories now belonging to the fat Cardinals will restored to its natural owners.
The Italians amuse themselves as most other people do. They are fond of the opera and theatre and are great gamblers. I have often noticed a crowd of workmen in the streets seated in a ring playing cards. Lotteries are very frequent and are open until midnight; the papal government adopts this form of gambling as a source of revenue. Those in Rome who can afford it ride of course in handsome equifrages. Sunday evening is the fashionable hour, they then ride slowly up and down the Corso; my first impression upon seeing this long line of carriages, was that an immense funeral was passing.
Saturday 22nd
The Carnival has commenced, and we have been initiated. Returning from the delightful Villa Borgese, I insisted upon passing through the Corso to see how the Carnival was progressing. Gay colored curtains were hung out of all the windows and crowds were collected at them to field(?) the first worthy object they saw. The mere fact of our being well diefied and of our walking so unsuspectingly through the Corso, was enough to make us ? for all the bon bons in a few moments a shower of them fell beating against our faces cloaks and hats, we made our escape by a cross street into the “Via Ripetta” and got home in time to see the procession of senators ? In gilt coaches attended by a handsome troop of “guardia nobile” This is an indication that the carnival has indeed commenced. Shortly afterwards the banners are carried by, which are given during the eight days to the horse that wins the race. At five in the evening we took seats in the Piazza del Popolo and waited for the race. The Corso was but one sea of heads; presently the way is cleared by soldiers and a troop of horseman gallop down to the Piazza de Venezia in order eventually to get everyone out of the way. The “barberi” now appear these are the men who hold the poor horses infuriated by spurs and other more cruel instruments which are tied about them in order to make them run faster . In an instant they break loose and dash through the Corso, often killing one of the Barberi and sometimes injuring others of the crowd.
Monday 26.
Visited the Palazzo Orsini, very large collection of pictures, a fine “Ecce Slomo” by Guercino, several by Guido, one or two Titiens. Church of St. Maria della Pace, Raphael fresco of the four Sibyls. Church of the St. Augustin, the first object I saw was a statue of the Virgin held in great reverence. She was decked out in ex votos, with a crown in her head, and she was surrounded by her votaries. We could not see Raphael’s picture owing to repairs which were being made in that part of the church.
Thursday 27th
Those Romans who are opposed to the government take no part in the Carnival and instead of going on the Corso they choose some other “rendezvous”. The Forum and Coliseum were chosen today, and the immense crowd there congregated was to oppose the papal authority. We remained until after four but as the crowd was perfectly quiet and seemed to dream of nothing but a walk, we grew tired of the monotony and went to the “rifresca” in the Piazza de Veneiza. The horses are perfect? Rosianantes and although they start of quite well, it is only the winner who exerts himself in the least at the “rifresa”, the others are aware of their defeat and are sensible enough not to t attempt to run, they trot up with perfect composure and allow the “barberi” to catch them.
Fannie O. Mann
From her loving husband
Rome, February 6, 1862
Rome February 11th/62
Walked to the Milvian Bridge, a celebrated spot in the history of Rome. It was near here that Constantine fought the great battle that made him master of the then known world, and where he saw the words “in hoc signo vinces” (in this sign you will conquer). We returned by the banks of the Tiber, and visited the Villa Doria, which unlike most of Rome, is kept with care and does not seem desolate.
Wednesday 12th
The Quarinal, one of the Seven hills is now mostly know as the “Monte Cavallo” owing to the equestrian statues, are said to be by Phidias, and the other by Praxiteles. They are so black from exposure and other bad treatment, that it is difficult to distinquish their original merits. Nearby is what remains of the temple of Mars that Augustus built to celebrate the battle against Brutus and Cassius at Philippi.
The ruins of the temple of Pallas in the forum of mercia are considered chaste specimens of ancient taste. The small brick tremple is that of Vesta, where the sacred fire - and Palladium were kept. Some consider it an old temple dedicated to Romulus, where mothers took their sick children to pray for their recovery, this customj like many other heathen ones is still observed, and has entwined itself with the catholic religion. One of the most interesting churches in Rome is that of St. maria in Cosmedin, built by on e of the early Popes under the emperor Gallien, after a successful issue of the second council at Antioche. In the vestibule is a large piece of marble with a face cut into it called “bocca della Verita” It was used by the Romans to prove a man’s innocence. If he could put his hands in the mouth without it being caught he was presumed “not guilty”.
The wonderful “cloaca maxima” still serves the Romans as it did their great ancestors. Pliny was amazed to see it in his days, it had been built 700 years, contemplating it eighteen centuries after Pliny, what should we think of it? The arch of “ Janus Quadrifrano” is seen as soon as you leave the Cloaca, We crossed the Ponte Rotto and passed through the Grand T? and the small island that Dacatus says was formed from the grain that fell in the Tiber. In the Piazza della Minerva is the church of Santa Maria Sopra Minerva, from its having been built over a temple dedicated to this goddess by Pomfiez. It is the only church that has something of the Gothic in its architecture. Statue by Michelangelo of our Saviour holding his cross. Monument of Leo X.
Friday 16th
I have never spoken of the Italians themselves or of their climate. In America, one hears so much of the mild air of Italy, that I have often thought to go there is a sure cure for any consumption. But wo to the poor invalid that come to this cold country. We were in Florence more than two months and the weather was mostly rainy and always cold. Snow fell several times, and one of our principal reasons in leaving was, because we had hope of finding it warmer in Rome. A few days since the snow fell here and the neighboring hills are I believe still covered. If during these cold spells the sun shines brightly, the English immediately complain of the “warm weather”.
The poor Italians know so little of solid comfort, that they cannot understand why a foreigner desires so many. Their own rooms are without carpet or fireplaces, and when it is very cold they fill a “veggis” (an earthern vessel) with coals, and place it in the middle of the room. In the street the women carry one under their aprons. We are living in an Italian family and I have never known them to be in anything but a good humour. The sister of our hostess waits on us, for which we pay two dollars a month. She is by no means as neat in her dress as our servant woman at home. But when her rich aunt (who is connected to the nobility having two sons in the “Guardia Nobile”! calls for her in her handsome equifrages(?), I have seen her look as fine as any lady. They have a strange dread of robbers here, the bell never rings without their calling out “shi e.”.
The morals of the upper class are said to be very corrupt, almost every woman in society is known to have her “cavalieri servante”, to which the husbands do not object. I fear the Italians are devoid of many of the higher principals, which I think is owing in a great measure to the corrupt state of their church. The men cannot believe in the superstitions that mostly compose their religion and I do not think they can trust in the relics, particularly such as these, “the milk of the virgin, some of the straw out of the Saviours cradle and the big toe of Mary Magdeleine.
The catholic church in Rome seems to be grafted on the old heathen foundation. In the Pope, we recognize the ancient Pontifex Maximus, a dignity the Emperors coveted and were proud to have it bestowed on them. The Vestal Virgins we see in the nuns. The heathen temples have been converted into churches, and representations of the ancient deities, into Madonna’s and saints. The statue of St. Peter, with one of it’s feet almost ______ away is in an old figure of Jupiter. The miracle working picture in the Pantheon, is said to have been changed from a picture of Venus to that of the Virgin. I have never before been so out and out a protestant surrounded as I am by what is called, all the splendour of the catholic church. In other countries there is a mash thrown over its real features; here it has fallen , and the vile thing stands forth in all its rottenness. When the Eternal City falls into the hands of Victor Emanuel, some reform must take place. He will at least turn half the monks into the army, as he has done in Tuscany, and the immense territories now belonging to the fat Cardinals will restored to its natural owners.
The Italians amuse themselves as most other people do. They are fond of the opera and theatre and are great gamblers. I have often noticed a crowd of workmen in the streets seated in a ring playing cards. Lotteries are very frequent and are open until midnight; the papal government adopts this form of gambling as a source of revenue. Those in Rome who can afford it ride of course in handsome equifrages. Sunday evening is the fashionable hour, they then ride slowly up and down the Corso; my first impression upon seeing this long line of carriages, was that an immense funeral was passing.
Saturday 22nd
The Carnival has commenced, and we have been initiated. Returning from the delightful Villa Borgese, I insisted upon passing through the Corso to see how the Carnival was progressing. Gay colored curtains were hung out of all the windows and crowds were collected at them to field(?) the first worthy object they saw. The mere fact of our being well diefied and of our walking so unsuspectingly through the Corso, was enough to make us ? for all the bon bons in a few moments a shower of them fell beating against our faces cloaks and hats, we made our escape by a cross street into the “Via Ripetta” and got home in time to see the procession of senators ? In gilt coaches attended by a handsome troop of “guardia nobile” This is an indication that the carnival has indeed commenced. Shortly afterwards the banners are carried by, which are given during the eight days to the horse that wins the race. At five in the evening we took seats in the Piazza del Popolo and waited for the race. The Corso was but one sea of heads; presently the way is cleared by soldiers and a troop of horseman gallop down to the Piazza de Venezia in order eventually to get everyone out of the way. The “barberi” now appear these are the men who hold the poor horses infuriated by spurs and other more cruel instruments which are tied about them in order to make them run faster . In an instant they break loose and dash through the Corso, often killing one of the Barberi and sometimes injuring others of the crowd.
Monday 26.
Visited the Palazzo Orsini, very large collection of pictures, a fine “Ecce Slomo” by Guercino, several by Guido, one or two Titiens. Church of St. Maria della Pace, Raphael fresco of the four Sibyls. Church of the St. Augustin, the first object I saw was a statue of the Virgin held in great reverence. She was decked out in ex votos, with a crown in her head, and she was surrounded by her votaries. We could not see Raphael’s picture owing to repairs which were being made in that part of the church.
Thursday 27th
Those Romans who are opposed to the government take no part in the Carnival and instead of going on the Corso they choose some other “rendezvous”. The Forum and Coliseum were chosen today, and the immense crowd there congregated was to oppose the papal authority. We remained until after four but as the crowd was perfectly quiet and seemed to dream of nothing but a walk, we grew tired of the monotony and went to the “rifresca” in the Piazza de Veneiza. The horses are perfect? Rosianantes and although they start of quite well, it is only the winner who exerts himself in the least at the “rifresa”, the others are aware of their defeat and are sensible enough not to t attempt to run, they trot up with perfect composure and allow the “barberi” to catch them.
Fannie & Willie - A Love Story
As the story goes, 17 yr old Fannie Ogden of New Orleans, LA, fell in love with 20 yr old, Willie Mann (William Grayson Mann). Willie and his family were going to Europe. Fannie was not going to be left behind. So her family consented and they were married. Willie's father was Ambrose Dudley Mann - he was part of the Mason-Slidell Delegation that went to Europe to raise money for the Confederate Cause. Willie acted as his father's secretary. The diary recounts their honeymoon and starts with entries from Italy then Spain, Brussels and finally the south of France in Pau. A hint: Think of a 19th century version of 'Love Story'.... Now here is Fannie and Willie's story.
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