« PreviousContinue »
In patience he waited the hour when the com- | ble hand, and thrown by the force of the pany should depart.
blow against the Count" de Mespard, had "Meanwhile the prince and princess, only only, as it always happens, felt the shock and separated by a wall from the man who was not the wound. On recovering himself, he numbering the minutes of their existence, put his hand on the place where he had been were enjoying in their box, without any pre- struck, and it there fell upon the hilt of a sentiment of evil, the pleasures of the perforin- dagger. A horrible light broke in upon
him. ance, and of conversation between the acts. “I am assassinated! I am a dead man!'be The Duke and Duchess of Orleans were pres- cried. 'I feel the dagger : that man has ent that evening in a neighboring box, with killed me!' At this exclamation, the Duchess their children. The two Families, who were de Berry, whose carriage had not yet departed, very intimate, owing to the relationship of uttered a piercing scream. Open the door! the two duchesses, saluted each other with open the door!' she cried to the footman, who smiles of recognition. During an interval be- still had his hand upon it: without waiting tween the performances, the Duke and Duchess for the step to be lowered, she sprang out, and de Berry paid their cousins a visit in their threw her arms round her husband, who had box. The duke embraced the children, and just extracted the poniard, which covered her played with the little Duke de Chartres, who dress with his blood. They seated the faintwas also doomed to a tragical death in the ing prince upon a bench in the outer ball, flower of his age. On passing through the where the servants wait for their masters. lobby to return to their hox, the duchess was They tore open his dress, and the blood flowstruck in the breast by a box-door, which was ing from the wound, indicated the spot where violently thrown open at the moment she was the blow had been struck, upon the right passing. She was then enceinte a few weeks ; breast. • I am killed,' he repeated on recorand fearful that the blow, the fright, and ering his senses ; 'send for a priest: come fatigue might be injurious, she expressed a here, my dear wife, that I may die in your wish to retire before the end of the opera, arms!' and the bal masqué which was to follow it. “ During this momentary pause in the The duke rose to conduct her himself to the vestibule, the sentinel, the footmen, and three carriage, intending to return to his box to en- gendarmes, horror-struck at the deed, ran in joy the remaining pleasures of the night. pursuit of the assassin. He had already
" On the summons of the prince's attend- passed the facade of the opera-house, in the ants, the royal carringe drove up to the door. Rue de Richelieu, and had concealed himself The young duchess, supported on one side by in the shadow of an arcade, which runs from her husband's hand, and on the other by that this street under the broad arches of the Bibof her equerry, Count de Mesnard, entered liotheque. A waiter of a café, named Paulthe carriage; the Countess de Béthisy, her nier, there seized him round the body, strug. lady-in-waiting, following her. • Adieu !! gled with him, and, assisted by the sentinel said her husband smiling to her, we shall and the gendarmes, brought him back to the meet again. The footmen folded up the place where he had committed the murder. steps of the carriage, and the prince turned He had nearly fallen a victim to the fury of round to enter the vestibule from the street. the spectators, who collared and dragged him At this moment, Louvel, who had approached towards the vestibule ; but the officers of the like an inoffensive spectator, or a servant prince, trembling lest they should destroy who was waiting for his master, sprang, with with the criminal the secret of the plot of the all the vigor of his resolution, between the crime, saved him, and had him conducted to sentinel who was presenting arms, and the the opera guard-house. M. de Clermontfootman who was closing the carriage-door, Lodère followed him there to witness his and, seizing the left shoulder of the Duke de first examination. They found upon him the Berry with his left hand, as if to secure his second dagger, and the sheath of the one victim under the knife, he struck him with which he had left in the bosom of the prince. the poniard in the right side, and left the M. de Clermont returned with this weapon, weapon in the wound.
The rapidity of the and these evidences of the crime, to the vestiact, the confusion of the bystanders, the un- bule. certain light afforded by the torches, and the “ The Duke de Berry was no longer there. staggering of the prince under the blow, pre- He had recovered his senses, and had been vented the Count de Choiseul and the Count removed in the arms of his servants to a sinall de Mesnard at the moment from discerning saloon behind his box, where he was surthe murderous act and gesture of the unknown. rounded by medical men, who were probing He fled unpursued towards the Rue de Riche- his wound. • Alas !' said he, on learning the lieu ; and, having turned the corner of the apprehension and name of the criminal, street, walked with a careless pace towards . what a cruel fate, that I should die by the the Boulevard.
hand of a Frenchman !' A ray of hope for a “The Duke de Berry, struck by an invisi- moment inspired the princess and the medi
cal men : he did not, however, partake of it, at day-break. “The clattering of the horses nor wished he to flatter his wife with an illu- of the escort on the pavement of the street sion which must only redouble her affliction. made the dying prince start with joy. • Un
No,' said he, with a cool, firm, and incredu- cle!' he exclaimed, as soon as he saw the lous tone ; • I will not delude myself; the king, ' give me your hand that I may kiss it poniard entered up to the very bilt, I can for the last time!' Louis XVIII. held out his assure you.' His sight was now becoming hand, and grasped that of his nephew. dim from failing strength, occasioned by loss Uncle,' resumed the prince anxiously, I beg of blood, and he felt about for his wife, of you, as my dying prayer, to spare the life stretching his arms in all directions. Are of my assassin !' My dear nephew,' replied you there, Caroline ?' he demanded. • Yes,' the king, you are not in such danger as you the princess tenderly replied ; 'I am here, imagine we will speak of it another time.' and I shall never quit you!' The surgeon of Ah! you do not consent,' replied the duke, his household, the companion of his exile, with an accent of doubt and sorrow. Oh! shocked at the rumor of the crime, had hast- say yes, say yes, that I may die in peace. ened to the side of the dying prince; and the Pardon, pardon for the man?' As the king, blood having ceased to Aow, he sucked the however, was silent, or endeavored to divert wound. • What are you doing, Bougon ?' his nephew's thoughts to other subjects ; ' Ah! eagerly demanded the dying prince; “perhaps the pardon of this man,' murinured the duke, the poniard was poisoned !
with an expression of bitterness upon his lips, “ His first word had been to ask not for a • would at least have consoled me in my last doctor but a priest. Struck in the very moments ! If,' he persisted, 'I could only noontide of youth and of pleasure, there had have the gratification of knowing that this been in his mind no transition between the man's blood would not be shed for me after thoughts of time and the thoughts of eternity. my death!' He had passed in one second from the specta- " A few moments after, he expired, still cle of a fête to the contemplation of his end, articulating in his delirium the ungratified like those men who, by a sudden immersion in wish of his heart. He died in the act of parcold water, are snatched from the burning de doning; a great soul, obscured in life, shining lirium of intoxication. The priest came at forth in death ; a hero of clemency, having length : and members of the royal family at the first effort accomplished the most diffihurried to the place on learning the dreadful cult and most meritorious act of humanity – intelligence. Surgeons, the most celebrated that of dying well. in Paris, also attended ; but the case was be- “ The deep sobs, which had hitherto been yond their aid. Life was fast ebbing. His repressed, gushed forth at his last sigh. llis wife did not quit him for a moment. He wife, in a state of delirium, cut off her hair, put his fingers on her head, as if to exhibit as a last token of affection, and laid it upon one last act of tenderness by caressing her his body ; then wildly cursing the country in beautiful hair. • Caroline,' he said to her, which her husband had been murdered, she
take care of yourself, for the sake of the demanded of the king, in angry accents, perchild you bear.' This was the first revela- mission to retire forever to Sicily. The king tion of the birth of a son who escaped the knelt down beside the bed, and closed with crime, but not the evil fortune of his race. his own hand the lips and eyelids of the last He recommended his servants with tears to living hope of his race.” his father; and expressed a wish to see his While the Parisians were horror-struck assassin, to demand of him the cause of t'3 with this unforeseen crime, and lamented it as batred, to reproach him for his injustice, and an irreparable disaster, the ultra-royalists of pardon him for his death. • Who is this the palace hailed it as an opportunity of ruinman?' he murmured ; 'what have I done to ing Decazes, by accusing him of being an achiin? It is perhaps some person that I have complice of Louvel. With the view of aiding unknowingly offended.' The Count d'Artois the surgeons in their consultations, Decazes assured him that the assassin had no persunal had thought of ascertaining whether the daganimosity against him. It must be some gor was poisoned, and he accordingly, in an maniac, then,' said the duke. Ah! that I under-tone of voice, asked the question of would live until the king arrives, that he may Louvel. This whisper, reported to the courgrant me the pardon of this man ! Promise me, tiers, was held up as á proof of complicity; father promise me, brother - promise me and before any inquiry was made, the minisall of you, to ask the king to spare this man's ter was denounced in the Chamber of Deputies life!'
as being an accomplice in the assassination. They all promised him this, to calm the On the trial, and at the execution of Louvel, ardor of generosity and pardon which preyed the wretched murderer declared that no one upon his mind. His natural goodness dis- had conspired with him, and that the deed played itself at the price of his own blood." was entirely his own. The world at large ac
l'he king apprized of the disaster, arrived knowledged the truth of the declaration; but
not so the court, and, greatly against the will At these words a sudden Alush of light came of Louis XVIII., he was under the necessity across my view of the matter, and the longer I of dismissing by far the best minister of the thought about it the clearer did it become. Restoration. The whole transaction, as faith- These few words contain the whole enigma fully and graphically detailed by Lamartine Raphael makes no mistakes ; his drawing is
the honest indignation of Decazes, the dis- true, his colors well chosen and well treaied, tress of the king, and the meanness of the neither out of keeping with each other nor with Count d'Artois, the Duke and Duchess of An- sidered; he observes the proportion and relation
the subject ; his grouping is thoroughly congoulême, and the Duchess of Berry, in pledge of every part ; in one word, he is a correct ing themselves to a falsehood - forms one of piuter. On this account he is admired by all the most instructive facts in modern history. those who are acquainted with the enormons
difficulties of the technical part of painting ; and
it is therefore that those who are anxious themFrom the Spectator.
selves to overcome these difficulties study hin VON ROCHAU’S WANDERINGS THROUGH with such persevering zeal. Raphael is a master
of the handicraft of painting ; and he must THE CITIES OF ITALY.*
himself understand this craft who would thorLIVELINESS and plenty, with independent oughly appreciate his perfection in this respect. common sense, are the characteristics of this This handicraft, however, is still only the tour in Italy. Von Rochan is more French body of art ; what of the soul thereof? is the or English than German. He has the vivacity question. To make no mistakes is but a negative and felicitous expression of the Gaul, without merit ; and, however hard it may be to accom
plish, can no more constitute an artist than to his flippancy or exaggeration; nature or cos- have no vices will make a man virtuous. mopolitan training has banished the pedantry
The poetic fire must gleam through these and phlegm of the Germans. These charac- colors and these lines, if they are to become teristics, coupled with a large experience and living art. Does Raphael possess this creative the present state of Italy, have given to his power? Is there in him that inspiration, that “ Wanderings”a freshness and interest hardly soaring fancy, that bears us unconsciously to be expected from so thoroughly beaten a heavenward on the mighty wings of genius? Do field.
we read in his pictures the eloquence of an The good qualities of the tourist are accom- ardent soul ; any passionate love, any fervent panied,
almost of necessity, by corresponding piety ; deep, powerful feeling of any kind whatdrawbacks : “maxima pars vatum decipi- erer?No, and forever no ! The composition mur specie recti." The author's vivacity of Raphael is throughout cold, feeble, convensometimes leads him to aim at imparting at-tional, inexpressive ; the composition, however, is traction to subjects of such triling import that which constitutes the work of art. as a criticism on a bad opera to which his ill The law is truly laid down, but is it truly fortune carried him. His independence of applied? Is there no composition, no drajudgment and opposition to humbug occasion. matic expression, in Elymas struck with ally lead him into artistic heresy. The Sistine blindness or the Preaching at Athens ? or Chapel finds no favor with him, and he boldly the Beautiful Gate ? or Paul and Barnabas at records the impressions produced ; in which
Lystra ? numbers who take a slighter and more super
Art may not have been Von Rochau's object ficial view than he avowedly did would prob- in visiting Italy; but art ancient or modern ably agree with him if they told the truth; - painting, sculpture, architecture, or re
for the art of seeing an old painting, especially mains, occupies a considerable share of his • when the colors have faded, is a faculty, as attention. Sometimes his opinions may be
Reynolds intimates, of difficult acquirement. extreme or questionable, but there is always Raphael finds less favor in Von Rochau's eyes a reason given; the judgment is always than Michael Angelo (whose great genius and clever, if not always sound; the criticism is whose services to art are admitted); but the lively and descriptive in a high degree, though, critic gives reasons for the faith that is in like most descriptive criticism, conveying the him.
opinion which the piece suggests to the indi" How, in Heaven's name, does it happen that vidual, rather than what it will universally your artists make so much of Raphael ?” I convey. Here is an example, distinct, strik asked, a short time ago, in a state of semi-ing, in harmony with history; but who can despair, addressing an Italian painter. “The say, reader, whether you or anybody else reason is, that Raphael makes fewer mistakes would see all this if it were not pointed out! than any one else, was the answer I received. There may be more of the tangible in Nero.
* Wanderings through the Cities of Italy in 1850 In the face of Tiberius, on the other hand, ..and 1851. By A. L. Von Rochau. Translated every feature is eloquent. An uncommon by Mrs. Peroy Sinnett. In two volumes. Pub- amount of understanding and strength of will lished by Bentley,
may be read in the broad forehead and firmly
closing mouth ; the whole form of the head The intercourse between the Romans and the speaks of intellectual capacity, and the face is French, however, is not always carried on in the mirror of a rich and cultivated mind ; bat this harmless manner; and even during this the eye is that of a crouching tiger. Nero looks carnival very violent scenes took place. That like a talented gentleman, whose vices have not the French soldiers should make their appearance yet reacted on his originally pleasing counte-in crowds on the Corso was already au occasion nance ; there is a something of primness in it, of bitter annoyance to the people, and the perhaps the effect of the smooth chin and upper occasional military rudeness of their unwelcome lip and the formal whiskers, which I have not guests in handling the Shrove-Tuesday weapons noticed in any other antique head.
was a ground of just complaint. On the other Entertaining and often solid as are the criti- in which, sportive as they were supposed to be,
hand, the soldiers were exposed to many attacks, cisms on art, and lively as are the descriptions a bitter hostile feeling was sufficiently obvious. of Italian nature and manners, the great The French officers came only in plain clothes, interest of this book lies in its view of the and, in general, the moment they are off duty condition of the people and the present state they hasten to get rid of their uniform ; an of opinion. Extensive travel and varied ob- infallible sign of their unfavorable position. servation have shaken Von Rochau's patriotic The relations between the foreign garrison and estimation of Vaterland, but have confirmed the inhabitants of Rome have in part by no his liberal opinions and love of progress. means improved by the lapse of time. There is, Such indications as are visible to a passing indeed, less of actual bloody strife, but these traveller of the tyranny under which Italy is things do happen from time to time, and the groaning, or the feelings of the people toirards murder of single Frenchmen is an incident their tyrants, did not escape him. And his continually recurring. opinion coincides with that of the latest all the sins of the Papal government are laid on
The bitter feeling against them is universal ; travellers, that nearly the whole of Italy is their shoulders ; and in all things, great and a smouldering fire, ready to burst forth on the small, the common sentiment is manifested. first opportunity. Venice seems to be the
When on Sundays there is a grand parade held principal exception; where the easy good on the Spanish Piazza, there cannot, out of the nature of the people, and the extraordinary curious and spectacle-loving populace of Rome, clemency of the governor (for though the be a hundred people got together to listen to the terms of capitulation were favorable, their excellent military music, nor contemplate the spirit might casily have been violated), have fine military spectacle, such ns assuredly neither induced content. We all knew the intense the Pope's soldiers nor those of the Civic Republic hatred of the Milanese towards the Austrians, could have offered anything to approach. even before the late outbreak and its accom
In the first days of my arrival, when I was panying confiscations. The hatred of the looking about for a private lodging, I went into Romans to the priests and the French seems
a house which had a great number of rooms fiercer than that of the Milanese to the empty. But when I had explained my wishes Austrians. Even in Florence there is a feeling daughter, with the question, put in an anxious
to the housewife, she turned suddenly to her against the latter power, whatever there may tone, " But the gentleman is perhaps a Frenchbe of loyalty to the duke.
man?" The influence of English and French manners
The daughter, who, I suppose understood and customs, of which there are no traces beyond national physiognomy and accent too well to the Apennines, is perceptible enough in Florence. mistake me for a Frenchman, laughed, and gave Without noticing such things as may be meant the required assurance to the contrary ; which for the use of travellers — of hotels, English had an immediately tranquillizing effect on the doctors, French cooks, &c., or of the abundance
elder. of foreign faces and foreigu tongues in the streets
** And if I had been a Frenchman ?" I in- it may be boldly asserted that foreign habits quired. and fushions reign in the Florentine homes.
“ Then I would not have let my rooms to you, The many similarities with German customs, sir,” she replied : “I have had enough of the however, which you meet with in the North of
French.'' Italy, disappear almost entirely in Florence ; and
One may hear every day the wish uttered, but for the Austrian possession one would only of the French !" But it would be a great
“ Would that the Germans were here instead be reminded of Germany by the “ Allgemeine Zeitung.'
weakness to place any reliance on such expres.. That the Austrian troops are here in a perfectly sions, however sincerely they may be meant at strange country and stand completely isolated, the time. Were the Germans really here, they may be seen in a multitude of slight circum- would be no greater favorites probably than the stances. They have no connection with the present occupants ; and in Bologna the people Florentine troops, not even that footing of mili- say, “Would that we had the French instead of tary courtesy on which the officers of hostile the Germans !” the Austrians, videlicet. The armies often meet.
rest of Germany may thank Heaven that no such
task has been laid upon her ; a task in which These are examples of the spirit at Rome. there is absolutely nothing to win — nothing in
the world — no credit, no gratitude, and least of | after she had abdicated her crown and reall any agreeable self-approval.
nounced her religion the faith for which As for the French troops, they are far from her father died in battle : being proud of the part they are playing here ; nor is France precisely, as we all know. But I am nevertheless convinced that the French will never leave Rome of their own accord. The
(Io son il Tempo alato, &c.) Ecclesiastical State will never more stand on its “I am Time, winged Time, own legs.
Fate's minister sublime :
The universe shall feel my power,
And in an awful hour not so obvious, and the support of the for- Shall sink into annihilation. eigner is not so visible, though just as real. I will spare naught in wide creation, But for the Swiss troops the Bourbon would Save the abyss the abyss profound ; not long occupy his throne. So much is this And darkness thick to reign around.” the case, that the grave military offence of
“ Ha, Time ! hear thou thy fate : open drunkenness is passed over as a matter
Thou threat'nest to annihilate;
But thou shalt lose thy sway. of course. In Piedmont, Von Rochau found opinion
Soon as this world has passed away, very different, as well as such parts of govern
Thy rule, O Time ! is o'er,
And thou thyself shalt be no more." ment as the traveller comes in contact with
- the police and the custom-house officials. Even the Roman Catholic religion seems to
LIFE WITHOUT AN AIM. We would now speak Aourish under freedom of opinion, although of the aimless existence that strange anomaly the attacks of the press upon the Papacy are in creation, a human being with nothing to do.
Most miserable, worthy of most profound pity, is numerous.
What struck me, however, as more remarkable such a being. The most insignificant object in than anything in the architecture, was the great ble on every spray, in ecstasy of joy ; the tiny
nature becomes a source of envy; the birds warnumber of young men, whom, contrary to the flower, hidden from all eyes, sends furth its frá usual custom of Italian and non-Italian towns, I
grance of full happiness ; the mountain stream found in the churches of Genoa. Can it be, that, in spite of this wicked consti- dashes along with a sparkle and murmur of pure
delight. The object of their creation is accomtution that it possesses, Genoa is rather a religiously-disposed town ; whilst in Rome, under plished, and their life gushes forth in harmonie
work. the happy rule of the successors of St. Peter, the admiration, of worship, to the wretched idler !
0, plant! O, stream !- worthy of employment of all the spiritual and temporal Here are powers ye never dreamed of — faculties means at its command has not enabled the Pope's government to check the tendency to infidelity, divine, eternal; a head to think, but nothing to
concentrate the thoughts ; a heart to love, but or what is, of course, worse, to Protestantism? Ronie is swarming with cowls and frocks and tion; a hand to do, but no work to be done ;
no object to bathe with the living tide of affecshaven crowns. In Genoa, on the contrary, talents unexercised, capacities undeveloped ; a you see few priests, still fewer monks ; ard of
human life thrown away the Jesuits’ scholars, with their clerical-looking poured forth in the desert. O, birds and flow
wasted as water vestments, none at all. Yet the Genoese are, to all appearance, good Catholics; whilst the ers, ye are gods to such a mockery of life! Who Romans scarcely have any other religion than can describe the fearful void of such an existence, that of hatred and revenge ; of which religion of the yearning for an object, the self-reproach for theirs there will, probably, some day be a notable wasted powers, the weariness of daily life, the revelation.
loathing of pleasure, of frivolity, and the fearful cousciousness of deadening life — of a spiritual
paralysis, which hinders all response to human From the Dublin University Magazine. interests when enthusiasm ceases to aronse, THE PINE-APPLE.
and noble deeds no longer call forth the tear of The stately Pine-Apple, fair as it is, with joy ; when the world becomes a blank, humanity
a far-off sound, and no life is left but the heary, its regular diamond-cut surface and elevated benumbing weight of personal helplessness and green crown, is very barren of reminiscences. desolation? 0? happier far is the toiling drudge The Archigallus, or chief priest of Cybele, who coins body and soul into the few poor shil. was represented bearing in one hand a pine- lings that can only keep his family in a long apple in a cup. At Kensington is a picture starvation ; he has a hope unceasingly to light of Charles II. receiving a pine-apple from his him, a duty to perform, a spark of love within gardener, Rose, on his knees. This fruit, that cannot die ; and wretched, weary, unon account of its large and handsome crown human, as his life may be, it is of royal worth of leaves, has been considered the emblem of it is separated by the immeasurable distance of royalty. Wherefore its companion shall be a life and death from the poor, perhaps pampered royal poem, the composition of the eccentric wretch, who is cursed for having no work to do. daughter and successor of the brave Gustavus
- Elizabeth Blackwell. Adolphus of Sweden, and written at Rome
* She died at Rome, 1619.