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diff --git a/33273-h/33273-h.htm b/33273-h/33273-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9109282 --- /dev/null +++ b/33273-h/33273-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,11962 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> +<title>Lives of Celebrated Women, by S. G. Goodrich, a Project Gutenberg eBook</title> + +<style type="text/css"> + @media screen { + hr.pb {margin:30px 0; width:100%; border:none;border-top:thin dashed silver;} + .pagenum {display: inline; font-size: x-small; text-align: right; text-indent: 0; position: absolute; right: 2%; padding: 1px 3px; font-style: normal; font-variant:normal; font-weight:normal; text-decoration: none; background-color: inherit; border:1px solid #eee;} + .pncolor {color: silver;} + } + @media print { + hr.pb {border:none;page-break-after: always;} + .pagenum { display:none; } + } + body {margin-left: 11%; margin-right: 10%;} + p {margin-top: 0.5em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: 0.5em;} + + .center, .center p {text-align: center;} + .dotwide {letter-spacing: 0.25em;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: 0.25em; text-decoration: none; background-color: #DDD; font-size: .9em;} + .larger {font-size: large;} + .padtop {margin-top: 2em;} + .poem h3 {text-align: left; font-size: 1.1em;} + .sig1 {display: block; padding-right: 8em; text-align: right;} + .sig2 {display: block; padding-right: 5em; text-align: right;} + .smaller {font-size: small;} + .trnote {background-color: #EEE; color: inherit; margin: 2em 5% 1em 5%; font-size: small; padding: 0.5em 1em 0.5em 1em; border: dotted 1px gray;} + blockquote {display: block; margin: .75em 5%; font-size: 90%;} + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {text-align: center;} + ins {text-decoration: none; border-bottom: thin dotted gray;} + pre {font-size: 0.7em; clear: both;} + + .caption {font-size: 90%; text-align:center;} + .chsp {margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em;} + .figcenter {margin: 2em auto 2em auto; text-align: center; width: auto;} + .figtag {height: 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .smcaplc {text-transform: lowercase; font-variant: small-caps;} + div.poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: left;} + div.poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em;} + div.poem p {margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + div.poem p.indent2 {padding-left:3.8em;} + hr.fn {width:3em; text-align:left; margin-left: 0; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; height:1px; border: none; border-bottom: 1px solid black;} + hr.toprule {width: 65%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; clear:both;} + p.center {text-align: center !important;} + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; clear: both;} +</style> + +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's Lives of Celebrated Women, by Samuel Griswold Goodrich + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Lives of Celebrated Women + +Author: Samuel Griswold Goodrich + +Release Date: July 27, 2010 [EBook #33273] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIVES OF CELEBRATED WOMEN *** + + + + +Produced by Katherine Ward and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This book was +produced from scanned images of public domain material +from the Google Print project.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class='figcenter'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_1' id='linki_1'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/illo-001.png' alt='' title='' width='388' height='550' /> +<br /> +<p class='caption'> +FERDINAND AND ISABELLA.<br /> +</p> +</div> +<div class='center'> +<hr class='pb' /> +<h1>LIVES<br /> +<span class='smcaplc'>OF</span><br /> +CELEBRATED WOMEN:</h1> +<p class='larger'><span class='smcaplc'>BY THE AUTHOR OF</span><br /> +PETER PARLEY’S TALES.</p> +<div class='figcenter'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_2' id='linki_2'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/frontis.jpg' alt='' title='' width='428' height='550' /> +<br /> +</div> +<p>BOSTON:<br /> +BRADBURY, SODEN & CO.<br /> +MDCCCXLIV.</p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<p>Entered according to Act of Congress,<br /> +in the year 1844,</p> +<p>By S. G. GOODRICH,</p> +<p>In the Clerk’s Office of the District +Court of Massachusetts.</p> +<p class='padtop smaller'>STEREOTYPED AT THE<br /> +BOSTON TYPE AND STEREOTYPE FOUNDRY.</p> +<p class='smaller'>WM. A. HALL & CO., <span class='smcaplc'>PRINTERS</span>,<br /> +12 Water Street.</p> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div class='chsp' style='padding-top:0'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_5' name='page_5'></a>5</span> +<a name='PREFACE' id='PREFACE'></a> +<h2>PREFACE.</h2> +</div> +<p>It is an oft-quoted proposition of Rousseau, that “the glory of woman +lies in being unknown.” If this be true, we shall deserve little credit for +placing before the world these brief sketches of a few of the sex who have +acquired celebrity among mankind. We are disposed to think, however, +that the oracular words of the Genevan philosopher—though they may +coincide with the despotism of the lords of creation, who would arrogate, +not merely the sceptre of power, but the trump of fame, entirely to themselves—like +most other oracles, are liable to many exceptions.</p> +<p>It may indeed be true that the <i>happiness</i> of women is generally to be +found in the quiet of the domestic circle; but that all, without distinction, +should be confined to it, and that whenever one of the sex departs from it, +she departs from her allotted sphere, is no more true than a similar proposition +would be of men. Elizabeth of England, though little to be +esteemed as a woman, did as much credit to her sex as her father did to +his; and while he enjoys the renown of having achieved the reformation in +England, she is entitled to the credit of having been not only his superior +as a sovereign, but one of the greatest sovereigns that ever occupied a +throne. Joan of Arc performed achievements for her country scarcely less +than miraculous; and Hannah More afforded, by her pen, more efficient +protection to the three kingdoms against the volcanic shock of the French +revolution than the entire army and navy of Great Britain.</p> +<p>Will any one pretend that these persons would have better fulfilled +their destiny, if confined to the quiet precincts of the fireside? If woman +is only to be a housewife, why are gifts bestowed upon her, that make +her often the rival, and sometimes the <i>master</i>, of the other sex, even in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_6' name='page_6'></a>6</span> +the higher walks of ambition? Was Sappho’s harp, the mere echo of +which has thrilled upon the ear of nearly thirty centuries, given only to be +touched in the secluded harem of some Lesbian lord? Why had Sévigné +such a magic pen, Roland so noble and dauntless a soul, the maid of Saragossa +a patriotism so inspired and inspiring, if they were designed by +their Creator only to preside over the nursery, the dairy, and the kitchen? +If women are created but to attend to the comforts of the other sex at +home, why are such spirits as those of the lovely and lamented Davidsons +ever formed—spirits bursting with music and poetry, like the +Eolian string, that gives forth its unbidden melody, only because God +made it so? Was Mrs. Hemans designed but to serve her surly and unappreciating +lord? Are Lady Montagu, Mrs. Barbauld, Madame de Stael, +Miss Edgeworth, Miss Sedgwick, Hannah More, Mrs. Sigourney,—who +must be regarded as among the most efficient civilizers of modern times,—to +be set down as violators of a great law which should govern woman’s +destiny? In short, shall we, in Christian countries, who make it our +boast that we have elevated woman to free companionship with man, still +look backward, return to the selfish philosophy of the Turk, shut woman +up in the harem, and gloss over our despotism by quotations from the +Swiss Diogenes?</p> +<p>While we repeat that, in general, women consult their true dignity and +happiness by seeking a quiet domestic career, we still maintain that such +among them as have endowments suited to exert a happy influence upon +mankind at large, are as truly fulfilling their duty and their destiny, by +giving them scope, as are the other sex in doing the same under the like +circumstances. It is believed that the following pages, although they +notice only a few of those women who have acquired a deserved celebrity, +will furnish ample argument to sustain the ground we assume.</p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div class='chsp' style='padding-top:0'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_7' name='page_7'></a>7</span> +<a name='CONTENTS' id='CONTENTS'></a> +<h2>CONTENTS.</h2> +</div> +<table border='0' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='Contents' style='margin:1em auto;'> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='right'><span class="smaller">PAGE</span></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Lucretia and Margaret Davidson</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#LUCRETIA_AND_MARGARET_DAVIDSON'>9</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Mrs. Adams</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#MRS_ADAMS'>49</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Mrs. Washington</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#MRS_WASHINGTON'>79</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Madame de Stael</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#MADAME_DE_STAEL'>90</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Lady Hester Stanhope</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#LADY_HESTER_STANHOPE'>121</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Hannah More</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#HANNAH_MORE'>131</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Mrs. Barbauld</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#MRS_BARBAULD'>167</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Madame de Genlis</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#MADAME_DE_GENLIS'>182</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Josephine</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#JOSEPHINE'>219</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Marie Antoinette</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#MARIE_ANTOINETTE'>261</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Madame Roland</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#MADAME_ROLAND'>267</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Madame de Sévigné</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#MADAME_DE_SVIGN'>286</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Mary, Queen of Scots</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#MARY_QUEEN_OF_SCOTS'>307</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Elizabeth, Queen of England</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#ELIZABETH_QUEEN_OF_ENGLAND'>335</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Isabella of Spain</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#ISABELLA_OF_SPAIN'>339</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Joan of Arc</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#JOAN_OF_ARC'>349</a></td> +</tr> +</table> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_8' name='page_8'></a>8</span></div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_3' id='linki_3'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/illo-004.png' alt='' title='' width='328' height='400' /> +<br /> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div class='chsp' style='padding-top:0'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_9' name='page_9'></a>9</span> +<a name='LUCRETIA_AND_MARGARET_DAVIDSON' id='LUCRETIA_AND_MARGARET_DAVIDSON'></a> +<h2>LUCRETIA AND MARGARET DAVIDSON.</h2> +</div> +<p>“There stood on the banks of the Saranac a small, +neat cottage, which peeped forth from the surrounding +foliage—the image of rural quiet and contentment. +An old-fashioned piazza extended along the front, +shaded with vines and honeysuckles; the turf on the +bank of the river was of the richest and brightest +emerald; and the wild rose and sweetbrier, which +twined over the neat enclosure, seemed to bloom with +more delicate freshness and perfume within the bounds +of this earthly paradise. The scenery around was +wildly yet beautifully romantic; the clear blue river, +glancing and sparkling at its feet, seemed only as a +preparation for another and more magnificent view, +when the stream, gliding on to the west, was buried in +the broad, white bosom of Champlain, which stretched +back, wave after wave, in the distance, until lost in +faint blue mists that veiled the sides of its guardian +mountains, seeming more lovely from their indistinctness.”</p> +<p>Such is the description which the younger subject +of these memoirs gives us of the home of her parents, +Dr. Oliver and Margaret Davidson, in the village of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_10' name='page_10'></a>10</span> +Plattsburg, Vermont. Amidst scenery so well calculated +to call forth and foster poetical talent, Lucretia +Maria Davidson was born on the 27th September, 1808. +Of her earliest childhood there is nothing recorded, +except that she was physically feeble, and manifested +extreme sensibility of disposition. She was sent to +school when she was four years old, and there was +taught to read and to imitate, in sand, the printed +characters. Books now possessed for her a greater +charm than childish sports. The writing paper began +to disappear mysteriously from the table, and Lucretia +was often observed with pen and ink, to the surprise +of her parents, who knew that she had never been +taught to write. The mystery remained unexplained +until she was six years old, when her mother, in searching +a closet rarely visited, found, behind piles of linen, +a parcel of little books filled with hieroglyphics. +These were at length deciphered by her parents, and +proved to be metrical explanations of rudely-sketched +pictures on the opposite page; the explanations being +made in Roman letters, most unartistically formed and +disposed. Not long after, Lucretia came running to +her mother in great agitation, the tears trickling down +her cheeks, and said, “O mamma! mamma! how +could you treat me so? My little books—you have +shown them to papa,—Anne,—Eliza! I know you +have. O, what shall I do?” Her mother tried to +soothe the child, and promised never to do so again. +“O mamma,” replied she, a gleam of sunshine +illumining the drops, “I am not afraid of that, for I +have burned them all.” “This reserve,” says one +whose kindred spirit could sympathize with that of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_11' name='page_11'></a>11</span> +Lucretia, “proceeded from nothing cold or exclusive in +her character; never was there a more loving or sympathetic +creature. It would be difficult to say which +was most rare, her modesty, or the genius it sanctified.”</p> +<p>It does not surprise us to learn that, under the +guidance of pious parents, religion took a deep and +enduring hold, at a very early period, upon so susceptible +a child. From her earliest years, she evinced +a fear of doing any thing displeasing in the sight of +God; and if, in her gayest sallies, she caught a look of +disapprobation from her mother, she would ask, with +the most artless simplicity, “O mother, was that +wicked?” Her extreme conscientiousness exhibited +itself in a manner quite remarkable in a child. Some +of the friends of the family thought their mode of education +not the most judicious, and that her devoting so +much time to study was not consistent with the pecuniary +circumstances and the physical condition of the +mother, who, being a confirmed invalid, was able to +take little part in the ordinary family labors. Lucretia’s +parents, however, did not concur in this opinion, +and carefully concealed it from her; but she in some +manner became aware of its existence, and voluntarily +acted in accordance with it. The real feeling +which prompted this conduct was artlessly made +apparent by the incident which led her to return to her +favorite occupation. When she was about twelve, she +attended her father to a “birth-night” ball. The next +day, an elder sister found her absorbed in composition. +“She had sketched an urn, and written two stanzas +under it. She was persuaded to show them to her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_12' name='page_12'></a>12</span> +mother. She brought them blushing and trembling. +Her mother was ill, in bed; but she expressed her +delight with such unequivocal animation, that the +child’s face changed from doubt to rapture, and she +seized the paper, ran away, and immediately added +the concluding stanzas. When they were finished, her +mother pressed her to her bosom, wept with delight, +and promised her all the aid and encouragement she +could give her. The sensitive child burst into tears. +‘And do you wish me to write, mamma? and will +papa approve? and will it be right that I should do +so?’” The following are the verses:—</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“And does a hero’s dust lie here?</p> +<p>Columbia, gaze, and drop a tear:</p> +<p>His country’s and the orphan’s friend,</p> +<p>See thousands o’er his ashes bend.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>Among the heroes of the age,</p> +<p>He was the warrior and the sage;</p> +<p>He left a train of glory bright,</p> +<p>Which never will be hid in night.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>The toils of war and danger past,</p> +<p>He reaps a rich reward at last;</p> +<p>His pure soul mounts on cherub’s wings,</p> +<p>And now with saints and angels sings.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>The brightest on the list of Fame,</p> +<p>In golden letters shines his name;</p> +<p>Her trump shall sound it through the world,</p> +<p>And the striped banner ne’er be furled.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>And every sex, and every age,</p> +<p>From lisping boy to learned sage,</p> +<p>The widow, and her orphan son,</p> +<p>Revere the name of Washington!”</p> +</div></div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_13' name='page_13'></a>13</span></div> +<p>A literary friend, to whom these verses were shown, +felt some doubts as to Lucretia’s being the real author +of the stanzas, and suffered them to appear. The feeling +that her rectitude was impeached made the sensitive +girl actually ill; but a poetic remonstrance, which +she prepared on the occasion, removed every doubt.</p> +<p>From what has been before said, it must not be supposed +that Lucretia was suffered to abandon herself to +literary avocations. She had her prescribed tasks in +sewing, and other customary employments, which she +generally performed with fidelity and with wonderful +celerity; sometimes, however, the voice of her muse +struck her in the midst, and “enchanted she dropped +each earthly care.” One day, she had promised to do +a certain piece of sewing, and had eagerly run for her +basket; she was absent long, and on her return found +that the work was done. “Where have you been, +Lucretia?” said her mother, justly displeased. “O +mamma,” she replied, “I did forget; I am grieved. +As I passed the window, I saw a solitary sweet pea. +I thought they were all gone. This was alone. I ran +to smell it, but, before I could reach it, a gust of wind +broke the stem. I turned away disappointed, and was +coming back to you; but as I passed the table, there stood +the inkstand, and I forgot you.” The following beautiful +verses insured the forgiveness of her mother:—</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“The last flower of the garden was blooming alone,</p> +<p>The last rays of the sun on its blushing leaves shone;</p> +<p>Still a glittering drop on its bosom reclined,</p> +<p>And a few half-blown buds ’midst its leaves were entwined.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>Say, lovely one, say, why lingerest thou here?</p> +<p>And why on thy bosom reclines the bright tear?</p> +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_14' name='page_14'></a>14</span></p> +<p>’Tis the tear of the zephyr—for summer ’twas shed,</p> +<p>And for all thy companions now withered and dead.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>Why lingerest thou here, when around thee are strown</p> +<p>The flowers once so lovely, by autumn blasts blown?</p> +<p>Say, why, sweetest floweret, the last of thy race,</p> +<p>Why lingerest thou here the lone garden to grace?</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>As I spoke, a rough blast, sent by winter’s own hand,</p> +<p>Whistled by me, and bent its sweet head to the sand;</p> +<p>I hastened to raise it—the dew-drop had fled,</p> +<p>And the once lovely flower was withered and dead.”</p> +</div></div> +<p>All her short pieces were composed with equal +rapidity; and sometimes she wished that she had two +pair of hands to record as fast as her muse dictated. +These she composed wherever she chanced to be +when the spirit of poesy came over her. In the midst +of her family, blind and deaf to all around her, she +held sweet communion with her muse. But when composing +her longer poems, as “Amie Khan,” or “Chicomicos,” +she required complete seclusion. She retired +to her own room, closed the blinds, and placed her +Æolian harp in the window. Her mother gives this +graphic description: “I entered her room,—she was +sitting with scarcely light enough to discern the characters +she was tracing; her harp was in the window, +touched by a breeze just sufficient to rouse the spirit +of harmony; her comb had fallen on the floor, and +her long, dark ringlets hung in rich profusion over her +neck and shoulders; her cheek glowed with animation; +her lips were half unclosed; her full, dark eye was +radiant with the light of genius, and beaming with sensibility; +her head rested on her left hand, while she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_15' name='page_15'></a>15</span> +held her pen in her right. She looked like the inhabitant +of another sphere. She was so wholly absorbed +that she did not observe my entrance. I looked over +her shoulder, and read the following lines:—</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>‘What heavenly music strikes my ravished ear,</p> +<p>So soft, so melancholy, and so clear?</p> +<p>And do the tuneful nine then touch the lyre,</p> +<p>To fill each bosom with poetic fire?</p> +<p>Or does some angel strike the sounding strings,</p> +<p>Who caught from echo the wild note he sings?</p> +<p>But, ah! another strain! how sweet! how wild!</p> +<p>Now, rushing low, ’tis soothing, soft, and mild.’”</p> +</div></div> +<p>The noise made by her mother roused Lucretia, who +soon afterwards brought her the preceding verses, +with the following added to them, being an address to +her Æolian harp:—</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“And tell me now, ye spirits of the wind,</p> +<p>O, tell me where those artless notes to find—</p> +<p>So lofty now, so loud, so sweet, so clear,</p> +<p>That even angels might delighted hear.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>But hark! those notes again majestic rise,</p> +<p>As though some spirit, banished from the skies,</p> +<p>Had hither fled to charm Æolus wild,</p> +<p>And teach him other music, sweet and mild.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>Then hither fly, sweet mourner of the air,</p> +<p>Then hither fly, and to my harp repair;</p> +<p>At twilight chant the melancholy lay,</p> +<p>And charm the sorrows of thy soul away.”</p> +</div></div> +<p>Her parents indulged her in the utmost latitude in +her reading. History, profane and sacred, novels, +poetry, and other works of imagination, by turns occupied +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_16' name='page_16'></a>16</span> +her. Before she was twelve, she had read the +English poets. Dramatic works possessed a great +charm for her, and her devotion to Shakspeare is expressed +in the following verses, written in her fifteenth +year:—</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“Shakspeare, with all thy faults, (and few have more,)</p> +<p>I love thee still, and still will con thee o’er.</p> +<p>Heaven, in compassion to man’s erring heart,</p> +<p>Gave thee of virtue, then of vice, a part,</p> +<p>Lest we, in wonder here, should bow before thee,</p> +<p>Break God’s commandment, worship, and adore thee;</p> +<p>But admiration, now, and sorrow join;</p> +<p>His works we reverence, while we pity thine.”</p> +</div></div> +<p>But above all other books she valued the Bible. +The more poetical parts of the Old Testament she +almost committed to memory; and the New Testament, +especially those parts which relate the life of our Savior, +was studied by her, and excited in her the deepest +emotions. As an evidence of this we give the +following verses, written in her thirteenth year:—</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<h3>“THE GOOD SHEPHERD.</h3> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>“The shepherd feeds his fleecy flock with care,</p> +<p class='indent2'>And mourns to find one little lamb has strayed;</p> +<p>He, unfatigued, roams through the midnight air,</p> +<p class='indent2'>O’er hills, o’er rocks, and through the mossy glade.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>But when that lamb is found, what joy is seen</p> +<p class='indent2'>Depicted on the careful shepherd’s face,</p> +<p>When, sporting o’er the smooth and level green,</p> +<p class='indent2'>He sees his favorite charge is in its place!</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>Thus the great Shepherd of his flock doth mourn,</p> +<p class='indent2'>When from his fold a wayward lamb has strayed,</p> +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_17' name='page_17'></a>17</span></p> +<p>And thus with mercy he receives him home,</p> +<p class='indent2'>When the poor soul his Lord has disobeyed.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>There is great joy among the saints in heaven,</p> +<p class='indent2'>When one repentant soul has found its God;</p> +<p>For Christ, his Shepherd, hath his ransom given,</p> +<p class='indent2'>And sealed it with his own redeeming blood.”</p> +</div></div> +<p>We have now arrived at a period which most girls +look forward to as an epoch in their life—the first +ball! Lucretia had been to dancing-school, and took +great delight in that exercise. In the hope of overcoming +her painful timidity, her mother had consented +to her attending the public assemblies of Plattsburg. +She was fourteen. The day arrived, and the important +subject of dress was the matter of consultation +between Mrs. Davidson and her eldest daughter, Lucretia +sitting by, absorbed in one of the Waverley +novels. “What shall Lucy wear?” asked the sister. +“Come, Lucretia; what color will you wear to-night?” +“Where?” “Where? why, to the assembly, to be +sure.” “Is it to-night? so it is!” and she tossed +aside her book, and danced delighted about the room. +The question of dress was now settled, and Lucretia +was soon again absorbed in her book. At the hour +for dressing, the delights of the ball again filled her +imagination, and she set about the offices of the toilet +with interest. Her sister was to dress her hair; but, +when the time came, she was missing. She was called +in vain, and was at length found in the parlor, in the +dusky twilight, writing poetry. “She returned from +the assembly,” says her mother, “wild with delight.” +“O mamma,” said she, “I wish you had been there. +When I first entered, the glare of light dazzled my +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_18' name='page_18'></a>18</span> +eyes; my head whirled, and I felt as if I were treading +on air; all was so gay, so brilliant! But I grew tired +at last, and was glad to hear sister say it was time to +go home.”</p> +<p>About the same period, life received for her a new +object of interest. Her little sister Margaret, the +frequent subject of her verses, was born. The following +are among the earliest stanzas addressed to +her:—</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“Sweet babe, I cannot hope that thou’lt be freed</p> +<p>From woes, to all since earliest time decreed;</p> +<p>But may’st thou be with resignation blessed,</p> +<p>To bear each evil, howsoe’er distressed.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>May Hope her anchor lend amid the storm,</p> +<p>And o’er the tempest rear her angel form;</p> +<p>May sweet Benevolence, whose words are peace,</p> +<p>To the rude whirlwind softly whisper, Cease!</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>And may Religion, Heaven’s own darling child,</p> +<p>Teach thee at human cares and griefs to smile;</p> +<p>Teach thee to look beyond that world of woe,</p> +<p>To heaven’s high font, whence mercies ever flow.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>And when this vale of years is safely passed,</p> +<p>When death’s dark curtain shuts the scene at last,</p> +<p>May thy freed spirit leave this earthly sod,</p> +<p>And fly to seek the bosom of thy God.”</p> +</div></div> +<p>Lucretia was now placed in trying circumstances. +Her mother, after the birth of Margaret, was very ill; +the infant, too, was ill; and, to add to their misfortunes, +the nurse was taken sick. Lucretia’s eldest sister had +recently been married, and had removed to Canada; +so that upon her devolved great and manifold duties.</p> +<p>The manner in which she discharged these shall be +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_19' name='page_19'></a>19</span> +related in her mother’s own words. “Lucretia astonished +us all. She took her station in my sick-room, +and devoted herself wholly to the mother and the +child; and when my recovery became doubtful, instead +of resigning herself to grief, her exertions were +redoubled, not only for the comfort of the sick, but +she was an angel of consolation to her afflicted father. +We were amazed at the exertions she made, and the +fatigue she endured; for with nerves so weak, a +constitution so delicate, and a sensibility so exquisite, +we trembled lest she should sink with anxiety and +fatigue. Until it ceased to be necessary, she performed +not only the duties of a nurse, but acted as +superintendent of the household.” Neither did she +relinquish her domestic avocations when her mother +became better; “she did not so much yield to her +ruling passion as to look into a book, or take up a pen, +lest she should again become so absorbed in them as +to neglect to perform those little offices which a feeble, +affectionate mother had a right to claim at her <ins title='Assuming end of quote here'>hands.”</ins> +As was to be expected, her mental and physical health +suffered; her cheek became pale, and her spirits +dejected. Her mother became alarmed, and expressed +her apprehensions. “I am not ill, mamma,” said +she, “only out of spirits.” An explanation ensued, +and the mother convinced the child that her duty did +not require a total abandonment of the pursuits she +longed for, but a judicious intermingling of literary +with domestic labors. The good consequences of the +change were soon manifest in the restored health and +cheerfulness of Lucretia.</p> +<p>It was about this period (1823-4) that she composed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_20' name='page_20'></a>20</span> +the longest of her published poems, “Amie Khan,” +an Oriental tale, which would do credit to much older +and more practised writers.</p> +<p>In 1824, an old friend of her mother’s, Moss Kent, +Esq., visited Plattsburg. He had never seen Lucretia, +but had formed a high opinion of her genius from +some of her productions, which had been shown to +him by his sister. Her appearance at this time was +well calculated to confirm his prepossessions in her +favor. She is thus described by her biographer: +“Miss Davidson was just sixteen. Her complexion +was the most beautiful brunette, clear and brilliant, +of that warm tint that seems to belong to lands of the +sun, rather than to our chilled regions; indeed, her +whole organization, mental as well as physical, her +deep and quick sensibility, her early development, +were characteristics of a warmer clime than ours: +her stature was of the middle height; her form slight +and symmetrical; her hair profuse, dark, and curling; +her mouth and nose regular, and as beautiful as if +they had been chiselled by an inspired artist; and +through this fitting medium beamed her angelic spirit.”</p> +<p>Charmed by all he saw and read, Mr. Kent at once +made the proposal to her parents to adopt Lucretia as +his own child. The proposal was in part accepted, +and, in accordance with his wishes, it was determined +to send her to the Troy Seminary. Her feelings on +this occasion are thus made known by letter to her +sister: “What think you? Ere another moon shall +fill, ‘round as my shield,’ I shall be at Mrs. Willard’s +Seminary. In a fortnight I shall probably have left +Plattsburg, not to return at least until the expiration of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_21' name='page_21'></a>21</span> +six months. O, I am so delighted, so happy! I shall +scarcely eat, drink, or sleep, for a month to come. +You must write to me often, and you must not laugh +when you think of poor Lucy in the far-famed city of +Troy, dropping handkerchiefs, keys, gloves, &c.; in +short, something of every thing I have. It is well if +you can read what I have written, for papa and +mamma are talking, and my head whirls like a top. +O, how my poor head aches! Such a surprise as I +have had!”</p> +<p>She left home November 24, 1824, to appearance +full of health and of delight at the opportunities of acquiring +knowledge which were to be open to her. At +parting she left the following verses:—</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<h3>“TO MY MOTHER.</h3> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>“O Thou whose care sustained my infant years,</p> +<p class='indent2'>And taught my prattling lip each note of love,</p> +<p>Whose soothing voice breathed comfort to my fears,</p> +<p class='indent2'>And round my brow hope’s brightest garland wove,—</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>To thee my lay is due, the simple song,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Which nature gave me at life’s opening day;</p> +<p>To thee these rude, these untaught strains belong,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Whose heart indulgent will not spurn my lay.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>O, say, amid this wilderness of life,</p> +<p class='indent2'>What bosom would have throbbed like thine for me?</p> +<p>Who would have smiled responsive? Who, in grief,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Would e’er have felt and, feeling, grieved like thee?</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>Who would have guarded, with a falcon eye,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Each trembling footstep, or each sport of fear?</p> +<p>Who would have marked my bosom bounding high,</p> +<p class='indent2'>And clasped me to her heart with love’s bright tear?</p> +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_22' name='page_22'></a>22</span></p> +<p>Who would have hung around my sleepless couch,</p> +<p class='indent2'>And fanned, with anxious hand, my burning brow?</p> +<p>Who would have fondly pressed my fevered lip,</p> +<p class='indent2'>In all the agony of love and woe?</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>None but a mother—none but one like thee,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Whose bloom has faded in the midnight watch,</p> +<p>Whose eye, for me, has lost its witchery,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Whose form has felt disease’s mildew touch.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>Yes, thou hast lighted me to health and life,</p> +<p class='indent2'>By the bright lustre of thy youthful bloom;</p> +<p>Yes, thou hast wept so oft o’er every grief,</p> +<p class='indent2'>That woe hath traced thy brow with marks of gloom.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>O, then, to thee this rude and simple song,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Which breathes of thankfulness and love for thee,</p> +<p>To thee, my mother, shall this lay belong,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Whose life is spent in toil and care for me.”</p> +</div></div> +<p>The following extracts from a letter to her mother +tell us of the state of her feelings when established at +the Seminary.</p> +<p>“December 24, 1824. Here I am at last; and +what a naughty girl I was, when I was at aunt Schuyler’s, +that I did not write you every thing! But to tell +the truth, I was topsy-turvy, and so I am now. But +in despite of calls from the young ladies, and of a +hundred new faces, and new names which are constantly +ringing in my ears, I have set myself down, +and will not rise until I have written an account of +every thing to my dear mother. I am contented; yet, +notwithstanding, I have once or twice turned a wistful +glance towards my dear-loved home. Amidst all the +parade of wealth, in the splendid apartments of luxury, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_23' name='page_23'></a>23</span> +I can assure you, my dearest mother, that I had rather +be with you, in our own lowly home, than in the midst +of all this ceremony.” “O mamma, I like Mrs. W. +‘And so this is my little girl,’ said she, and took me +affectionately by the hand. O, I want to see you so +much! But I must not think of it now; I must learn +as fast as I can, and think only of my studies. Dear, +dear little Margaret! Kiss her and the little boys for +me. How is dear father getting on in this rattling +world?”</p> +<p>The transplanting a flower of so delicate a constitution +from the clear air of Lake Champlain to the close +atmosphere of a city boarding-school, was followed +by consequences which might have been expected. +Almost from her arrival, Lucretia’s letters speak of +ill-health and unhappiness, aggravated by the fear that +her progress in studies, thus frequently interrupted, +would disappoint the expectations of her kind benefactor, +for whom she seems to have cherished the +most affectionate and grateful feelings. Neither do +the excitements of a large public seminary seem well +adapted to one of so sensitive a nature. In the course +of time, the public examination approached, and for the +two months preceding it, she was kept in a state of +constant agitation and dread, which is thus spoken of +in a half-serious, half-jesting letter to her mother: +“We are all engaged, heart and hand, preparing for +this awful examination. O, how I dread it! But +there is no retreat. I must stand firm to my post, or +experience the anger, vengeance, and punishments, +which will, in case of delinquency or flight, be exercised +with the most unforgiving acrimony. We are +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_24' name='page_24'></a>24</span> +in such cases excommunicated, henceforth and forever, +under the awful ban of holy Seminary; and the +evil eye of false report is upon us. O mamma, I +do, though, jesting apart, dread this examination; but +nothing short of real and absolute sickness can excuse +a scholar in the eyes of Mrs. W. Even that will not +do in the Trojan world around us; for if a young lady +is ill at examination, they say with a sneer, ‘O, she +is ill of an examination fever!’ Thus you see, +mamma, we have no mercy either from friends or +foes. We must ‘do or die.’ Tell Morris he must +write to me. Kiss dear, dear little Margaret for me, +and don’t let her forget poor sister Luly; and tell all +who inquire for me that I am well, but in awful dread +of a great examination.”</p> +<p>She was interrupted, in her course of preparation +for the examination, by an illness so serious as to +require the attendance of a physician. But no sooner +was she convalescent than she was suffered to renew +her suicidal course. “I shall rise between two and +four now every morning, till the dreaded day is past. I +rose the other night at twelve, but was ordered back to +bed again. You see, mamma, I shall have a chance +to become an early riser here.” “Had I not written +you that I was coming home, I think I should not have +seen you this winter. All my friends think I had +better remain here, as the journey will be long and +cold; but O, there is at that journey’s end, which +would tempt me through the wilds of Siberia—father, +mother, brothers, sisters, <i>home</i>. Yes, I shall come.” +“The dreaded examination is now going on, my dear +mother. To-morrow evening, which will be the last, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_25' name='page_25'></a>25</span> +is always the most crowded, and is the time fixed upon +for my <i>entrée</i> upon the field of action. O, I hope I +shall not disgrace myself. It is the rule here to +reserve the best classes till the last; so I suppose I +may take it as a compliment that we are delayed.” +“The examination is over. E. did herself and her +native village honor; but as for your poor Luly, she +acquitted herself, I trust, decently. O mamma, I +was so frightened! But although my face glowed +and my voice trembled, I did make out to get through, +for I knew my lessons. The room was crowded to +suffocation. All was still; the fall of a pin could +have been heard; and I tremble when I think of it +even now.”</p> +<p>The expected visit to her home was relinquished, +and she passed the vacation with her friends in the +vicinity of Troy. An incident which occurred as she +was crossing the Hudson on her return to Troy, is +thus described: “Uncle went to the ferry with me, +where we met Mr. P. Uncle placed me under his +care, and, snugly seated by his side, I expected a very +pleasant ride, with a very pleasant gentleman. All +was pleasant, except that we expected every instant +that all the ice in the Hudson would come drifting +against us, and shut in scow, stage and all, or sink us +to the bottom, which, in either case, you know, mother, +would not have been quite so agreeable. We had just +pushed off from the shore, I watching the ice with +anxious eyes, when, lo! the two leaders made a +tremendous plunge, and tumbled headlong into the +river. I felt the carriage following fast after; the +other two horses pulled back with all their power, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_26' name='page_26'></a>26</span> +but the leaders were dragging them down, dashing, +and plunging, and flouncing, in the water. ‘Mr. P., +in mercy let us get out!’ said I. But as he did not +see the horses, he felt no alarm. The moment I +informed him they were overboard, he opened the +door, and cried, ‘Get out and save yourself, if possible; +I am old and stiff, but I will follow you in an +instant.’ ‘Out with the lady! let the lady out!’ +shouted several voices at once; ‘the other horses are +about to plunge, and then all will be over.’ I made a +lighter spring than many a lady does in a cotillon, +and jumped upon a cake of ice. Mr. P. followed, +and we stood (I trembling like a leaf) expecting +every moment that the next plunge of the drowning +horses would detach the piece of ice upon which we +were standing, and send us adrift; but, thank Heaven, +after working for ten or fifteen minutes, by dint of +ropes, and cutting them away from the other horses, +they dragged the poor creatures out more dead than +alive. Mother, don’t you think I displayed some +courage? I jumped into the stage again, and shut +the door, while Mr. P. remained outside, watching the +movement of affairs. We at length reached here, and +I am alive, as you see, to tell the story of my woes.”</p> +<p>At the spring vacation, Lucretia returned to her +loved home; but the joy of her parents at once more +embracing their darling daughter, was damped by +observing that the fell destroyer had set its well-known +mark upon her cheek. Her father called in another +physician to consult with him, and, strange to say, it +was decided that she should return to school in Albany, +where she arrived May, 1825, and where her reception, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_27' name='page_27'></a>27</span> +her accommodations and prospects, seem to have given +her much delight, and where she entered upon her +career of study with her wonted ardor. But her +physical strength could not sustain the demands upon it. +She thus writes to her mother: “I am very wretched: +am I never to hear from you again? I am homesick. +I know I am foolish, but I cannot help it. To tell the +truth, I am half sick, I am so weak, so languid. I cannot +eat. I am nervous; I know I am. I weep most of +the time. I have blotted the paper so that I cannot +write. I cannot study much longer if I do not hear +from you.” Her disease appears now to have +assumed a fixed character, and in her next letter, +she expresses a fear that it is beyond the reach of +human art. Her mother, herself ill, set off at once for +Albany, and was received by her child with rapture. +“O mamma, I thought I should never have seen you +again! But, now I have you here, I can lay my +aching head upon your bosom. I shall soon be better.”</p> +<p>The journey homeward, though made in the heats of +July, was attended with less suffering than was anticipated. +“Her joy,” says her mother, “upon finding +herself at home, operated for a time like magic.” +The progress of disease seemed to be suspended. +Those around her received new hope; but she herself +was not deceived, and she calmly waited for that great +change which for her possessed no terrors, for her +hopes as to the future rested upon a sure foundation.</p> +<p>But one fear disturbed her, to which she refers in +the following, the last piece she ever composed, and +which is left unfinished:—</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_28' name='page_28'></a>28</span></div> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“There is a something which I dread;</p> +<p class='indent2'>It is a dark and fearful thing;</p> +<p>It steals along with withering tread,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Or sweeps on wild destruction’s wing.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>That thought comes o’er me in the hour</p> +<p class='indent2'>Of grief, of sickness, or of sadness;</p> +<p>’Tis not the dread of death; ’tis more,—</p> +<p class='indent2'>It is the dread of madness.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>O, may these throbbing pulses pause,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Forgetful of their feverish course;</p> +<p>May this hot brain, which, burning, glows</p> +<p class='indent2'>With all a fiery whirlpool’s force,—</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>Be cold, and motionless, and still,</p> +<p class='indent2'>A tenant of its lowly bed;</p> +<p>But let not dark delirium steal——”</p> +</div></div> +<p>She died on the 27th August, 1825. Her literary +labors will surprise all who remember that she had not +yet reached her seventeenth birthday. They consist of +two hundred and seventy-eight poetical pieces, of which +there are five regular poems, of several cantos each; +three unfinished romances; a complete tragedy, written +at thirteen years of age; and twenty-four school exercises; +besides letters, of which forty are preserved, +written in the course of a few months, to her mother +alone. Indeed, we cannot but look upon Lucretia +Davidson as one of the wonders of humanity. Her +early productions excited even the admiration of +Byron; and the delicacy, dutifulness, and exaltation, of +her character seemed almost to have realized angelic +purity and beauty of soul, in a tenement of clay.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_29' name='page_29'></a>29</span></div> +<p>The little Margaret, as we have seen, was the object +of Lucretia’s fondest affection. She used to gaze upon +her little sister with delight, and, remarking the brightness +and beauty of her eyes, would exclaim, “She +must, she will be a poet!” She did not live to see +her prediction verified, but to use her mother’s fond +expressions, “On ascending to the skies, it seemed as +if her poetic mantle fell, like a robe of light, on her +infant sister.”</p> +<p>Though Margaret was but two years and a half old, +the death of her sister made a strong impression on +her, and an incident which occurred a few months +afterwards showed that she appreciated her character. +As Mrs. Davidson was seated, at twilight, conversing +with a female friend, Margaret entered the room with +a light, elastic step, for which she was remarked. +“That child never walks,” said the lady; then turning +to her, she said, “Margaret, where are you flying +now?” “To heaven!” replied Margaret, pointing up +with her fingers, “to meet my sister Lucretia, when I +get my new wings.” “Your new wings! When will +you get them?” “O, soon, very soon; and then I +shall fly!” “She loved,” says her mother, “to sit, +hour after hour, on a cushion at my feet, her little arms +resting upon my lap, and her full, dark eyes fixed upon +mine, listening to anecdotes of her sister’s life, and +details of the events which preceded her death, often +exclaiming, while her face beamed with mingled emotions, +‘O mamma, I will try to fill her place! Teach +me to be like her!’”</p> +<p>Warned by their dreadful experience in the former +instance, the parents endeavored to repress the intellectual +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_30' name='page_30'></a>30</span> +activity of Margaret. She was not taught to +read till she was four years old; but so rapid was her +progress after that period, under her mother’s instructions, +that at six she read not only well, but elegantly, +and was wont to solace her mother’s hours of protracted +illness, by reading to her the works of Thomson, +Campbell, Cowper, Milton, Byron, Scott, &c., in +which she took enthusiastic delight, and in discriminating +their beauties and defects, she showed wonderful +taste and intelligence. The Scriptures were her +daily study; not hurried over as a task, but she would +spend an hour or two in commenting with her mother +upon the chapter she had read.</p> +<p>“Her religious impressions,” says her mother, +“seemed to be interwoven with her existence. From +the very first exercise of reason, she evinced strong +devotional feelings, and, although she loved play, she +would at any time prefer seating herself beside me, +and, with every faculty absorbed in the subject, listen +while I attempted to recount the wonders of Providence, +and point out the wisdom and benevolence of God, as +manifested in the works of creation.”</p> +<p>About the age of six years, she began to exhibit a +talent for rhyming. One of her earliest pieces, if not +remarkable for poetical merit, is worthy of transcription, +from the incident which gave occasion to its composition; +it also exhibits in a striking manner that +conscientiousness for which her sister was so distinguished, +and a power of self-examination of rare existence +in one so young.</p> +<p>Her mother reproved her for some trifling act of +disobedience upon which she attempted to justify herself, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_31' name='page_31'></a>31</span> +and for this aggravation of the fault was banished +to her chamber until she should become sensible of her +error. Two hours elapsed, and she continued obstinate; +vindicating herself, and accusing her mother of +injustice. Mrs. D. reasoned with her, exhorting her to +pray to God to assist her in gaining that meekness and +humility which had characterized our Savior, and +reminding her of the example he had set of obedience +to parents. An hour or two afterwards, Margaret came +running in, threw her arms around her mother’s neck, +and, sobbing, put into her hands these verses:—</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“Forgiven by my Savior dear</p> +<p class='indent2'>For all the wrongs I’ve done,</p> +<p>What other wish could I have here?</p> +<p class='indent2'>Alas! there yet is one.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>I know my God has pardoned me;</p> +<p class='indent2'>I know he loves me still;</p> +<p>I wish I may forgiven be</p> +<p class='indent2'>By her I’ve used so ill.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>Good resolutions I have made,</p> +<p class='indent2'>And thought I loved my Lord;</p> +<p>But, ah! I trusted in myself,</p> +<p class='indent2'>And broke my foolish word.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>But give me strength, O Lord, to trust</p> +<p class='indent2'>For help alone in thee;</p> +<p>Thou know’st my inmost feelings best;</p> +<p class='indent2'>O, teach me to obey.”</p> +</div></div> +<p>She took little pleasure in the common sports of +children; her amusements were almost entirely intellectual. +If she played with a doll, or a kitten, she +invested it with some historical or dramatic character, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_32' name='page_32'></a>32</span> +and whether Mary, queen of Scots, or Elizabeth, the +character was always well sustained.</p> +<p>In her seventh year, her health became visibly delicate, +and she was taken to Saratoga springs and to +New York, from which excursions she derived much +physical advantage, and great intellectual pleasure; +but she returned to her native village with feelings of +admiration and enthusiasm for its natural beauties, +heightened by contrast. As her health began again to +fail in the autumn, and the vicinity to the lake seemed +unfavorable to the health of Mrs. Davidson, the family +went to Canada to pass the winter with the eldest +daughter.</p> +<p>Margaret grew stronger, but her mother derived no +benefit from the change, and for eighteen months remained +a helpless invalid, during which time her little +daughter was her constant companion and attendant. +“Her tender solicitude,” says Mrs. D., “endeared her +to me beyond any other earthly thing. Although under +the roof of a beloved and affectionate daughter, and +having constantly with me an experienced and judicious +nurse, yet the soft and gentle voice of my little darling +was more than medicine to my worn-out frame. If +her delicate hand smoothed my pillow, it was soft to +my aching temples, and her sweet smile would cheer +me in the lowest depths of despondency. She would +draw for me—read to me—and often, when writing +at her little table, would surprise me by some tribute of +love, which never failed to operate as a cordial to my +heart. At a time when my life was <ins title='Was depaired'>despaired</ins> of, she +wrote the following verses while sitting at my bed:—</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_33' name='page_33'></a>33</span></div> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>‘I’ll to thy arms in rapture fly,</p> +<p>And wipe the tear that dims thine eye;</p> +<p>Thy pleasure will be my delight,</p> +<p>Till thy pure spirit takes its flight.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>When left alone, when thou art gone,</p> +<p>Yet still I will not feel alone;</p> +<p>Thy spirit still will hover near,</p> +<p>And guard thy orphan daughter here.’”</p> +</div></div> +<p>Margaret continued to increase in strength until +January, 1833, when she was attacked by scarlet +fever, under which she lingered many weeks. In the +month of May, she had, however, so far recovered as +to accompany her mother, now convalescent, on a +visit to New York. Here she was the delight of the +relatives with whom she resided, and the suggester of +many new sources of amusement to her youthful companions. +One of her projects was to get up a dramatic +entertainment, for which she was to write the play. +Indeed, she directed the whole arrangements, although +she had never but once been to a theatre, and that on +her former visit to New York. The preparations occupied +several days, and, being nearly completed, Margaret +was called upon to produce the play. “O,” +she replied, “I have not written it yet.” “How is +this? Do you make the dresses first, and then write the +play to suit them?” “O,” replied she, “the writing +of the play is the easiest part of the preparation; it +will be ready before the dresses.” In two days she +produced her drama; “which,” says Mr. Irving, “is a +curious specimen of the prompt talent of this most +ingenious child, and by no means more incongruous in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_34' name='page_34'></a>34</span> +its incidents than many current dramas by veteran and +experienced playwrights.”</p> +<p>Though it was the study of her relatives to make her +residence in New York as agreeable to her as possible, +the heart of Margaret yearned for her home: her feelings +are expressed in the following lines:—</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“I would fly from the city, would fly from its care,</p> +<p>To my own native plants and my flowerets so fair;</p> +<p>To the cool grassy shade and the rivulet bright,</p> +<p>Which reflects the pale moon on its bosom of light.</p> +<p>Again would I view the old mansion so dear,</p> +<p>Where I sported a babe, without sorrow or fear;</p> +<p>I would leave this great city, so brilliant and gay,</p> +<p>For a peep at my home on this fine summer day.</p> +<p>I have friends whom I love, and would leave with regret,</p> +<p>But the love of my home, O, ’tis tenderer yet!</p> +<p>There a sister reposes unconscious in death;</p> +<p>’Twas there she first drew, and there yielded, her breath:</p> +<p>A father I love is away from me now—</p> +<p>O, could I but print a sweet kiss on his brow,</p> +<p>Or smooth the gray locks, to my fond heart so dear,</p> +<p>How quickly would vanish each trace of a tear!</p> +<p>Attentive I listen to pleasure’s gay call,</p> +<p>But my own darling home, it is dearer than all.”</p> +</div></div> +<p>In the autumn the travellers turned their faces homewards, +but it was not to the home of Margaret’s tender +longings. The wintry winds of Lake Champlain were +deemed too severe for the invalids, and the family took +up its residence at Ballston. Margaret’s feelings upon +this disappointment are thus recorded:—</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<h3>“MY NATIVE LAKE.</h3> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>“Thy verdant banks, thy lucid stream,</p> +<p>Lit by the sun’s resplendent beam,</p> +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_35' name='page_35'></a>35</span></p> +<p>Reflect each bending tree so light</p> +<p>Upon thy bounding bosom bright!</p> +<p>Could I but see thee once again,</p> +<p>My own, my beautiful Champlain!</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>The little isles that deck thy breast,</p> +<p>And calmly on thy bottom rest,</p> +<p>How often, in my childish glee,</p> +<p>I’ve sported round them, bright and free!</p> +<p>Could I but see thee once again,</p> +<p>My own, my beautiful Champlain!</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>How oft I’ve watched the freshening shower</p> +<p>Bending the summer tree and flower,</p> +<p>And felt my little heart beat high</p> +<p>As the bright rainbow graced the sky!</p> +<p>Could I but see thee once again,</p> +<p>My own, my beautiful Champlain!</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>And shall I never see thee more,</p> +<p>My native lake, my much-loved shore?</p> +<p>And must I bid a long adieu,</p> +<p>My dear, my infant home, to you?</p> +<p>Shall I not see thee once again,</p> +<p>My own, my beautiful Champlain?”</p> +</div></div> +<p>But Margaret was happy; the family were reunited, +and she had health sufficient to allow her to pursue +her studies, still under her mother’s direction. She +was fond, too, of devising little plans for intellectual +improvement and amusement: among others, a +weekly newspaper was issued in manuscript, called +the “Juvenile Aspirant.” But this happiness was +soon clouded. Her own severe illness excited alarming +fears; and hardly was she convalescent, when, in +the spring of 1834, intelligence was received from +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_36' name='page_36'></a>36</span> +Canada of the death of her eldest sister. This was a +severe shock, for she had always looked up to this +only surviving sister as to one who would supply the +place of her seemingly dying mother. But she forgot +her own grief in trying to solace that of her mother. +Her feelings, as usual, were expressed in verses, +which are as remarkable for their strain of sober +piety as for poetical merit. The following are portions +of an address—</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<h3>“TO MY MOTHER, OPPRESSED WITH SORROW.</h3> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>“Weep, O my mother! I will bid thee weep,</p> +<p>For grief like thine requires the aid of tears;</p> +<p>But O, I would not see thy bosom thus</p> +<p>Bowed down to earth, with anguish so severe;</p> +<p>I would not see thine ardent feelings crushed,</p> +<p>Deadened to all save sorrow’s thrilling tone,</p> +<p>Like the pale flower, which hangs its drooping head</p> +<p>Beneath the chilling blasts of Eolus!</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p class='indent2 dotwide'>. . . . . . . . . .</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>When love would seek to lead thy heart from grief,</p> +<p>And fondly pleads one cheering look to view,</p> +<p>A sad, a faint, sad smile one instant gleams</p> +<p>Athwart the brow where sorrow sits enshrined,</p> +<p>Brooding o’er ruins of what once was fair;</p> +<p>But like departing sunset, as it throws</p> +<p>One farewell shadow o’er the sleeping earth,</p> +<p>Thus, thus it fades! and sorrow more profound</p> +<p>Dwells on each feature where a smile, so cold,</p> +<p>It scarcely might be called the mockery</p> +<p>Of cheerful peace, but just before had been.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p class='indent2 dotwide'>. . . . . . . . . .</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>But, O my mother, weep not thus for <i>her</i>,</p> +<p>The rose, just blown, transported to its home;</p> +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_37' name='page_37'></a>37</span></p> +<p>Nor weep that her angelic soul has found</p> +<p>A resting-place with God.</p> +<p>O, let the eye of heaven-born Faith disperse</p> +<p>The darkening mists of earthly grief, and pierce</p> +<p>The clouds which shadow dull mortality!</p> +<p>Gaze on the heaven of glory crowned with light,</p> +<p>Where rests thine own sweet child with radiant brow,</p> +<p>In the same voice which charmed her father’s halls,</p> +<p>Chanting sweet anthems to her Maker’s praise,</p> +<p>And watching with delight the gentle buds</p> +<p>Which she had lived to mourn; watching thine own,</p> +<p>My mother! the soft, unfolding blossoms,</p> +<p>Which, ere the breath of earthly sin could taint,</p> +<p>Departed to their Savior, there to wait</p> +<p>For thy fond spirit in the home of bliss!</p> +<p>The angel babes have found a sister mother;</p> +<p>But when thy soul shall pass from earth away,</p> +<p>The little cherubs then shall cling to thee,</p> +<p>And then, sweet guardian, welcome thee with joy,</p> +<p>Protector of their helpless infancy,</p> +<p>Who taught them how to reach that happy home.”</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p class='indent2 dotwide'>. . . . . . . . . .</p> +</div></div> +<p>So strong and healthful did she seem during the +ensuing summer, that her mother began to indulge +hopes of raising the tender plant to maturity. But +winter brought with it a new attack of sickness, and +from December to March the little sufferer languished +on her bed. During this period, her mind remained +inactive; but with returning health it broke forth in a +manner that excited alarm. “In conversation,” says +her mother, “her sallies of wit were dazzling; she +composed and wrote incessantly, or rather would have +done so, had I not interposed my authority to prevent +this unceasing tax upon both her mental and physical +strength. She seemed to exist only in the regions of +poetry.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_38' name='page_38'></a>38</span></div> +<p>There was a faint return of health, followed by a +new attack of disease; indeed, the remainder of her +brief sojourn in this world presents the usual vicissitudes +attendant upon her disease—short intervals of health, +which she devoted to study, amid long and dreary +periods of illness, which she bore with exemplary +patience. It would be painful to follow her through +these vicissitudes. We need only note those events +and changes which produced a marked effect upon +her feelings, and which she has recorded in verse.</p> +<p>In the autumn of 1835, the family removed to +“Ruremont,” an old-fashioned country house near New +York, on the banks of Long Island Sound. The character +and situation of this place seized powerfully on +Margaret’s imagination. “The curious structure of +this old-fashioned house,” says her mother, “its picturesque +appearance, the varied and beautiful grounds +around it, called up a thousand poetic images and +romantic ideas. A long gallery, a winding staircase, +a dark, narrow passage, a trap-door, large apartments +with massive doors and heavy iron bolts and bars,—all +set her mind teeming with recollections of what she +had read, and imagination of old castles, &c.” Perhaps +it was under the influence of feelings thus suggested +that she composed the following</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<h3>“STANZAS.</h3> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>“O for the pinions of a bird,</p> +<p class='indent2'>To bear me far away,</p> +<p>Where songs of other lands are heard,</p> +<p class='indent2'>And other waters play!—</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>For some aërial car, to fly</p> +<p class='indent2'>On, through the realms of light,</p> +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_39' name='page_39'></a>39</span></p> +<p>To regions rife with poesy,</p> +<p class='indent2'>And teeming with delight.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>O’er many a wild and classic stream</p> +<p class='indent2'>In ecstasy I’d bend,</p> +<p>And hail each ivy-covered tower</p> +<p class='indent2'>As though it were a friend;</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>Through many a shadowy grove, and round</p> +<p class='indent2'>Full many a cloistered hall,</p> +<p>And corridors, where every step</p> +<p class='indent2'>With echoing peal doth fall.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p class='indent2 dotwide'>. . . . . . . . . .</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>O, what unmingled pleasure then</p> +<p class='indent2'>My youthful heart would feel,</p> +<p>And o’er its thrilling chords each thought</p> +<p class='indent2'>Of former days would steal!</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p class='indent2 dotwide'>. . . . . . . . . .</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>Amid the scenes of past delight,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Or misery, I’d roam,</p> +<p>Where ruthless tyrants swayed in might,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Where princes found a home.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p class='indent2 dotwide'>. . . . . . . . . .</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>I’d stand where proudest kings have stood,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Or kneel where slaves have knelt,</p> +<p>Till, rapt in magic solitude,</p> +<p class='indent2'>I feel what they have felt.”</p> +</div></div> +<p>Margaret now felt comparatively well, and was +eager to resume her studies. She was indulged so +far as to be permitted to accompany her father three +times to the city, where she took lessons in French, +music, and dancing. To the Christmas holidays she +looked forward as a season of delight; she had prepared +a drama of six acts for the domestic entertainment, +and the back parlor was to be fitted up for a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_40' name='page_40'></a>40</span> +theatre, her little brothers being her fellow-laborers. +But her anticipations were disappointed. Two of her +brothers were taken ill; and one of them, a beautiful +boy of nine, never recovered. “This,” says her +mother, “was Margaret’s first acquaintance with +death. She saw her sweet little play-fellow reclining +upon my bosom during his last agonies; she witnessed +the bright glow which flashed upon his long-faded +cheek; she beheld the unearthly light of his beautiful +eye, as he pressed his dying lips to mine, and exclaimed, +‘Mother, dear mother, the last hour has +come!’ It was indeed an hour of anguish. Its +effect upon her youthful mind was as lasting as her +life. The sudden change from life and animation to +the still unconsciousness of death, for a time almost +paralyzed her. The first thing that aroused her to a +sense of what was going on about her, was the thought +of my bereavement, and a conviction that it was her +province to console me.” But Mrs. Davidson soon +presents a sadder picture: “My own weak frame was +unable longer to sustain the effects of long watching +and deep grief. I had not only lost my lovely boy, +but I felt a strong conviction that I must soon resign +my Margaret. Although she still persisted in the +belief that she was well, the irritating cough, the +hectic flush, the hurried beating of the heart, and the +drenching night perspirations, confirmed me in this +belief, and I sank under this accumulated weight of +affliction. For three weeks I hovered on the borders +of the grave, and, when I arose from this bed of pain, +it was to witness the rupture of a blood-vessel in her +lungs, caused by exertions to suppress a cough. I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_41' name='page_41'></a>41</span> +was compelled to conceal every appearance of alarm, +lest agitation of her mind should produce fatal consequences. +As I seated myself by her, she raised her +speaking eyes to mine with a mournful, inquiring gaze, +and, as she read the anguish which I could not conceal, +she turned away with a look of despair.” There no +longer remained room for hope, and all that remained +to be done was to smooth the pathway to the grave.</p> +<p>Although Margaret endeavored to persuade herself +that she was well, yet, from the change that took place +in her habits in the autumn of 1836, it is evident that +she knew her real situation. In compliance with +her mother’s oft-repeated advice, she gave up her +studies, and sought by light reading and trivial employments +to “kill time.” Of the struggles which it cost +her thus to pass six months, the following incident, as +related by her mother, will inform us: “She was seated +one day by my side, weary and restless, scarcely +knowing what to do with herself, when, marking, the +traces of grief upon my face, she threw her arms +about my neck, and, kissing me, exclaimed, ‘My dear, +dear mother!’ ‘What is it affects you now, my +child?’ ‘O, I know you are longing for something +from my pen.’ I saw the secret craving of the spirit +that gave rise to the suggestion. ‘I do indeed, my +dear, delight in the effusions of your pen, but the +exertion will injure you.’ ‘Mamma, I <i>must</i> write! I +can hold out no longer! I will return to my pen, my +pencil, and my books, and shall again be happy.’” +The following verses, written soon after, show the +state of her feelings:—</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_42' name='page_42'></a>42</span></div> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“Earth, thou hast but nought to satisfy</p> +<p class='indent2'>The cravings of immortal mind;</p> +<p>Earth, thou hast nothing pure and high,</p> +<p class='indent2'>The soaring, struggling soul to bind.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>Impatient of its long delay,</p> +<p class='indent2'>The pinioned spirit fain would roam,</p> +<p>And leave this crumbling house of clay,</p> +<p class='indent2'>To seek, above, its own bright home!</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p class='indent2 dotwide'>. . . . . . . . . .</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>O, how mysterious is the bond</p> +<p class='indent2'>Which blends the earthly with the pure,</p> +<p>And mingles that which death may blight</p> +<p class='indent2'>With that which ever must endure!</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>Arise, my soul, from all below,</p> +<p class='indent2'>And gaze upon thy destined home—</p> +<p>The heaven of heavens, the throne of God,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Where sin and care can never come.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p class='indent2 dotwide'>. . . . . . . . . .</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>Compound of weakness and of strength;</p> +<p class='indent2'>Mighty, yet ignorant of thy power;</p> +<p>Loftier than earth, or air, or sea,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Yet meaner than the lowliest flower!—</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>Soaring towards heaven, yet clinging still</p> +<p class='indent2'>To earth, by many a purer tie!</p> +<p>Longing to breathe a tender air,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Yet fearing, trembling thus to die!”</p> +</div></div> +<p>Some verses written about the same period show the +feelings she held towards her sister Lucretia.</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“My sister! with that thrilling word</p> +<p class='indent2'>What thoughts unnumbered wildly spring!</p> +<p>What echoes in my heart are stirred,</p> +<p class='indent2'>While thus I touch the trembling string!</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_43' name='page_43'></a>43</span></p> +<p>My sister! ere this youthful mind</p> +<p class='indent2'>Could feel the value of thine own;</p> +<p>Ere this infantine heart could bind,</p> +<p class='indent2'>In its deep cell, one look, one tone,</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>To glide along on memory’s stream,</p> +<p class='indent2'>And bring back thrilling thoughts of thee;</p> +<p>Ere I knew aught but childhood’s dream,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Thy soul had struggled, and was free.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p class='indent2 dotwide'>. . . . . . . . . .</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>I cannot weep that thou art fled;</p> +<p class='indent2'>Forever blends my soul with thine;</p> +<p>Each thought, by purer impulse led,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Is soaring on to realms divine.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p class='indent2 dotwide'>. . . . . . . . . .</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>I hear thee in the summer breeze,</p> +<p class='indent2'>See thee in all that’s pure or fair,</p> +<p>Thy whisper in the murmuring trees,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Thy breath, thy spirit, every where.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>Thine eyes, which watch when mortals sleep,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Cast o’er my dreams a radiant hue;</p> +<p>Thy tears, “such tears as angels weep,”</p> +<p class='indent2'>Fall nightly with the glistening dew.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>Thy fingers wake my youthful lyre,</p> +<p class='indent2'>And teach its softer strains to flow;</p> +<p>Thy spirit checks each vain desire,</p> +<p class='indent2'>And gilds the lowering brow of woe.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p class='indent2 dotwide'>. . . . . . . . . .</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>Thou gem of light! my leading star!</p> +<p class='indent2'>What thou hast been I strive to be;</p> +<p>When from the path I wander far,</p> +<p class='indent2'>O, turn thy guiding beam on me.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>Teach me to fill thy place below,</p> +<p class='indent2'>That I may dwell with thee above;</p> +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_44' name='page_44'></a>44</span></p> +<p>To soothe, like thee, a mother’s woe,</p> +<p class='indent2'>And prove, like thine, a sister’s love.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p class='indent2 dotwide'>. . . . . . . . . .</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>When all is still, and fancy’s realm</p> +<p class='indent2'>Is opening to the eager view,</p> +<p>Mine eye full oft, in search of thee,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Roams o’er that vast expanse of blue.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>I know that here thy harp is mute,</p> +<p class='indent2'>And quenched the bright, poetic fire;</p> +<p>Yet still I bend my ear, to catch</p> +<p class='indent2'>The hymnings of thy seraph lyre.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>O, if this partial converse now</p> +<p class='indent2'>So joyous to my heart can be,</p> +<p>How must the streams of rapture flow,</p> +<p class='indent2'>When both are chainless, both are free!—</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>When, borne from earth for evermore,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Our souls in sacred joy unite,</p> +<p>At God’s almighty throne adore,</p> +<p class='indent2'>And bathe in beams of endless light!”</p> +</div></div> +<p>Although the extracts from the works of this gifted +being have been so extensive, we cannot forbear giving +some portions of a piece written about the same period, +and entitled—</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<h3>“AN APPEAL FOR THE BLIND.</h3> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p class='indent2 dotwide'>. . . . . . . . . .</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>“Launched forth on life’s uncertain path,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Its best and brightest gift denied,</p> +<p>No power to pluck its fragrant flowers,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Or turn its poisonous thorns aside;—</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>No ray to pierce the gloom within,</p> +<p class='indent2'>And chase the darkness with its light;</p> +<p>No radiant morning dawn to win</p> +<p class='indent2'>His spirit from the shades of night;—</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_45' name='page_45'></a>45</span></p> +<p>Nature, whose smile, so pure and fair,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Casts a bright glow on life’s dark stream,—</p> +<p>Nature, sweet soother of our care,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Has not a single smile for him.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>When pale disease, with blighting hand,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Crushes each budding hope awhile,</p> +<p>Our eyes can rest in sweet delight</p> +<p class='indent2'>On love’s fond gaze, or friendship’s smile.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>Not so with <i>him</i>; his soul chained down</p> +<p class='indent2'>By doubt, and loneliness, and care,</p> +<p>Feels but misfortune’s chilling frown,</p> +<p class='indent2'>And broods in darkness and despair.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>Favored by Heaven, O, haste thee on;</p> +<p class='indent2'>Thy blest Redeemer points the way;</p> +<p>Haste o’er the spirit’s gloom to pour</p> +<p class='indent2'>The light of intellectual day.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>Thou canst not raise their drooping lids,</p> +<p class='indent2'>And wake them to the noonday sun;</p> +<p>Thou canst not ope, what God hath closed,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Or cancel aught his hands have done.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>But, O, there is a world within,</p> +<p class='indent2'>More bright, more beautiful than ours;</p> +<p>A world which, nursed by culturing hands,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Will blush with fairest, sweetest flowers.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>And thou canst make that desert mind</p> +<p class='indent2'>Bloom sweetly as the blushing rose;</p> +<p>Thou canst illume that rayless void</p> +<p class='indent2'>Till darkness like the day-gleam glows.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p class='indent2 dotwide'>. . . . . . . . . .</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>Thus shalt thou shed a purer ray</p> +<p class='indent2'>O’er each beclouded mind within,</p> +<p>Than pours the glorious orb of day</p> +<p class='indent2'>On this dark world of care and sin.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p class='indent2 dotwide'>. . . . . . . . . .</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_46' name='page_46'></a>46</span></p> +<p>And when the last dread day has come,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Which seals thine endless doom,—</p> +<p>When the freed soul shall seek its home,</p> +<p class='indent2'>And triumph o’er the tomb,—</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>When lowly bends each reverend knee,</p> +<p class='indent2'>And bows each heart in prayer,—</p> +<p>A band of spirits, saved by thee,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Shall plead thy virtues there.”</p> +</div></div> +<p>Hitherto Margaret had sedulously avoided all conversations +about her health, and seemed unwilling to +let the feeling that disease had marked her for its +victim take possession of her mind. But in the summer +of 1838, she one day surprised her mother by +asking her to tell her, without reserve, her opinion of +her state. “I was,” says her mother, “wholly unprepared +for this question; and it was put in so solemn +a manner, that I could not evade it, were I disposed to +do so. I knew with what strong affection she clung to +life, and the objects and friends which endeared it to +her; I knew how bright the world upon which she was +just entering appeared to her young fancy—what glowing +pictures she had drawn of future usefulness and +happiness. I was now called upon at one blow to +crush these hopes, to destroy the delightful visions; +it would be cruel and wrong to deceive her. In vain +I attempted a reply to her direct and solemn appeal; +several times I essayed to speak, but the words died +away on my lips; I could only fold her to my heart in +silence; imprint a kiss upon her forehead, and leave the +room, to avoid agitating her with feelings I had no +power to repress.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_47' name='page_47'></a>47</span></div> +<p>But this silence was to Margaret as expressive as +words. Religion had always been present with her, +but from this period it engrossed a large portion of her +thoughts. She regretted that so much of her time had +been spent in light reading, and that her writings had +not been of a more decidedly religious character. +“Mamma,” said she one day, “should God spare my +life, my time and talents shall, for the future, be devoted +to a higher and holier end.” “O mother, how sadly +have I trifled with the gifts of Heaven! What have I +done which can benefit one human being?” The +New Testament was now her daily study, and a portion +of each day was devoted to private prayer and self-examination.</p> +<p>The closing scene of her life, which occurred on the +25th November, 1838, would lose much of its interest +in the description, if given in other than the beautiful +and touching language of her mother. It was night, +and, at the entreaty of her husband, Mrs. Davidson +had laid herself on the bed in a room adjoining +that of her daughter. “Between three and four +o’clock, the friend who watched came again, and said, +‘Margaret has asked for her mother.’ I flew. She +held a bottle of ether in her hand, and pointed to her +breast. I poured it on her head and chest. She +revived. ‘I am better now,’ said she. ‘Mother, you +tremble; you are cold; put on your clothes.’ I stepped +to the fire, and put on a wrapper, when she stretched +out both her arms, and exclaimed, ‘Mother, take me in +your arms.’ I raised her, and, seating myself on the +bed, passed both my arms around her waist; her head +dropped on my bosom, and her expressive eyes were +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_48' name='page_48'></a>48</span> +raised to mine. That look I never shall forget; it +said, ‘Tell me, mother, is this death?’ I answered the +appeal as if she had spoken. I laid my hand upon her +white brow; a cold dew had gathered there. I spoke—‘Yes, +my beloved, it is almost finished; you will soon +be with Jesus.’ She gave one more look, two or three +short, fluttering breaths, and all was over; her spirit was +with its God: not a struggle or a groan preceded her +departure.”</p> +<p>Thus perished Margaret Davidson, at the early age +of fifteen years and eight months. Her sister Lucretia +had found in Miss Sedgwick a fitting biographer, +and the memory of Margaret has been rendered more +dear by the touching manner in which Irving has told +her brief but wondrous story. We cannot better close +our imperfect sketch, than to use the words of her +biographer: “We shall not pretend to comment on +these records; they need no comment, and they +admit no heightening. Indeed, the farther we have +proceeded with our subject, the more has the intellectual +beauty and the seraphic purity of the little being +we have endeavored to commemorate, broken upon us. +To use one of her own exquisite expressions, she was +‘a spirit of heaven fettered by the strong affections of +earth,’ and the whole of her brief sojourn here seems +to have been a struggle to regain her native skies.”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_49' name='page_49'></a>49</span> +<a name='MRS_ADAMS' id='MRS_ADAMS'></a> +<h2>MRS. ADAMS.</h2> +</div> +<p>The materials for preparing the memoirs of those +American ladies whose virtues were conspicuous, and +whose position in society imposed upon them great +duties, and gave them an extensive influence in their +day, are, in general, exceedingly scanty. Happily, the +piety of a descendant has, in the present case, supplied +the deficiency; and in a mode the most satisfactory. +We are here not only made acquainted with the everyday +life and actions as they were exhibited to the +world around, but are admitted to the inmost recesses +of the heart, and all its hopes and feelings are laid +open to us. There are few who could bear such an +exposure; but in respect to the subject of our present +sketch, a nearer acquaintance and more rigid scrutiny +serve only to increase our veneration, and to confirm +the verdict which her contemporaries had passed +upon her.</p> +<p>Abigail Smith, afterwards Mrs. Adams, was born on +the 11th of November, 1744. She was the daughter +of the Rev. William Smith, the minister of a small +Congregational church in Weymouth, Massachusetts, +and was descended on both sides from the genuine +stock of the Pilgrims.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_50' name='page_50'></a>50</span></div> +<p>The cultivation of the female mind was neglected in +the last century, not merely as a matter of indifference, +but of positive principle; female learning was a subject +of ridicule, and “female education,” as Mrs. Adams +tells us, “in the best families, went no further than +writing and arithmetic; in some, and rare instances, +music and dancing.” But Mrs. Adams did not have +an opportunity of receiving even the ordinary instruction. +She was never sent to school, the delicate state +of her health forbidding it. But this is hardly to be +considered matter of regret, for constant intercourse +with her pious and talented relations had an influence +upon her character of even greater value than the +learning of the schools. The lessons which made the +deepest impression upon her mind were imbibed from +her maternal grandmother, the wife of Colonel John +Quincy. “I have not forgotten,” says Mrs. Adams, +to her daughter, in 1795, “the excellent lessons +which I received from my grandmother, at a very +early period of life. I frequently think they made a +more durable impression upon my mind than those +which I received from my own parents. Whether it +was owing to the happy method of mixing instruction +and amusement together, or from an inflexible adherence +to certain principles, the utility of which I +could not but see and approve when a child, I know +not; but maturer years have rendered them oracles of +wisdom to me. I love and revere her memory; her +lively, cheerful disposition animated all around her, +while she edified all by her unaffected piety. This +tribute is due to the memory of those virtues, the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_51' name='page_51'></a>51</span> +sweet remembrance of which will flourish, though she +has long slept with her ancestors.”</p> +<p>But though the list of accomplishments thought +essential for a young lady’s education was so scanty, it +must not be supposed that the mind was left wholly +uncultivated. On the contrary, few women of the +present day are so well acquainted with the standard +English authors, as those of the period of which we +are now speaking. The influence which they had +on the mind of the subject of this memoir, is apparent +throughout her published correspondence, not only +in the style, in the fondness for quotation, but in the +love of fictitious signatures, of which the “Spectator” +had set the example. The social disposition +of youth renders an interchange of thoughts and +feelings between those of the same age essential to +their happiness. The sparse population, and comparatively +small facilities for locomotion in the last century, +rendered personal intercourse difficult, and a frequent +interchange of letters was adopted as a substitute. +This, as an exercise for the mind, is of great value, as +it induces habits of reflection, and leads to precision and +facility in expressing ideas.</p> +<p>A few of Mrs. Adams’s letters, written at an early +period of her life, have been preserved, and from one +of these—addressed to a married lady, several years +older than herself, which will account for a gravity +which is beyond her years and ordinary disposition—the +following extracts are made. It is dated at Weymouth, +October 5th, 1761.</p> +<p>“Your letter I received, and, believe me, it has not +been through forgetfulness that I have not before this +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_52' name='page_52'></a>52</span> +time returned you my sincere thanks for the kind +assurance you then gave me of continued friendship. +You have, I hope, pardoned my suspicions; they arose +from love. What persons in their right senses would +calmly, and without repining, or even inquiring into +the cause, submit to lose their greatest temporal good +and happiness? for thus the divine, Dr. Young, looks +upon a friend, when he says,—</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>‘A friend is worth all hazards we can run;</p> +<p>Poor is the friendless master of a world;</p> +<p>A world in purchase for a friend is gain.’</p> +</div></div> +<p>* * * You have, like King Ahasuerus, held forth, +though not a golden sceptre, yet one more valuable,—the +sceptre of friendship, if I may so call it. +Like Esther, I would draw nigh and touch it. Will +you proceed and say, ‘What wilt thou?’ and ‘What +is thy request? it shall be given thee to the half of my’ +heart. Why, no, I think I will not have so dangerous +a present, lest your good man should find it out and +challenge me. * * * And now let me ask you, +whether you do not think that many of our disappointments, +and much of our unhappiness, arise from +our forming false notions of things and persons. We +strangely impose on ourselves; we create a fairy land +of happiness. Fancy is fruitful, and promises fair, +but, like the dog in the fable, we catch at a shadow, +and, when we find the disappointment, we are vexed, +not with ourselves, who are really the impostors, but +with the poor, innocent thing or person of whom we +have formed such strange ideas. * * * You bid me +tell <i>one</i> of my sparks—I think that was the word—to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_53' name='page_53'></a>53</span> +bring me to see you. Why, I believe you think they +are as plenty as herrings, when, alas! there is as great +a scarcity of them as there is of justice, honesty, prudence, +and many other virtues. I’ve no pretensions to +one. Wealth, wealth is the only thing that is looked +after now. ’Tis said Plato thought, if Virtue would +appear to the world, all mankind would be enamored +of her; but now interest governs the world, and men +neglect the golden mean.”</p> +<p>At the age of twenty, Miss Smith became the wife +of John Adams, afterwards president of the United +States. Connected with this event, an anecdote is related, +which, as an indication of the fashion of the day, +and of the disposition of the bride’s father, is too good +to be passed over. Mary, the eldest daughter of Mr. +Smith, was married to Richard Cranch, an English +emigrant, and, as it would appear, with the approbation +of all parties; for, upon the Sabbath following, he +preached to his people from the text, “And Mary hath +chosen that good part, which shall not be taken from +her.” But Abigail was not so fortunate; for her match, +it would seem, met the disapprobation of some of her +father’s parishioners, either on account of the profession +of Mr. Adams,—that of the law,—which was then an +obnoxious one to many people, who deemed it dishonest; +or because they did not consider Mr. Adams—the +son of a small farmer—a sufficiently good match for +the daughter of one of the shining lights of the colony. +Mr. Smith, having become aware of the feeling which +existed, took notice of it in a sermon from the following +text: “For John came neither eating bread nor drinking +wine, and ye say, He hath a devil.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_54' name='page_54'></a>54</span></div> +<p>The first ten years of Mrs. Adams’s married life +were passed in a quiet and happy manner; her enjoyment +suffering no interruptions except those occasioned +by the short absences of her husband, when he attended +the courts. In this period she became the +mother of a daughter and three sons, of whom John +Quincy Adams was the eldest.</p> +<p>All are familiar with the distinguished part performed +by Mr. Adams in the scenes which immediately +preceded our revolution. In all his feelings and +actions he had the sympathy and support of his wife, +who had thus in some measure become prepared for +the stormy period which was at hand.</p> +<p>Mr. Adams, having been appointed one of the delegates +to the congress to be held at Philadelphia, left +home in August, 1774; and on the 19th of that month, +we find the following letter addressed to him by his +wife:—</p> +<p>“The great distance between us makes the time +appear very long to me. It seems already a month +since you left me. The great anxiety I feel for my +country, for you, and for our family, renders the day +tedious, and the night unpleasant. The rocks and the +quicksands appear on every side. What course you +can and will take is all wrapped in the bosom of +futurity. Uncertainty and expectation leave the mind +great scope. Did ever any kingdom or state regain +its liberty, when once it was invaded, without bloodshed? +I cannot think of it without horror. Yet we +are told, that all the misfortunes of Sparta were +occasioned by their too great solicitude for present +tranquillity; and from an excessive love of peace, they +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_55' name='page_55'></a>55</span> +neglected the means of making it sure and lasting. +* * * I have taken a very great fondness for reading +Rollin’s Ancient History. I am determined to go +through it, if possible, in these my days of solitude. +I find great pleasure and entertainment from it, and +I have persuaded Johnny to read me a page or two +every day, and hope he will, from his desire to oblige +me, entertain a fondness for it. I want much to hear +from you. I long impatiently to have you upon the +stage of action. The 1st of September may, perhaps, +be of as much importance to Great Britain, as the ides +of March to Cæsar. I wish you every public and private +blessing, and that wisdom which is profitable for +instruction and edification, to conduct you in this difficult +day.”</p> +<p>She perceived, at a very early period, that the conflict +would not be speedily settled, and of the personal +consequences to herself she speaks in the following +affecting terms: “Far from thinking the scene closed, +it looks as though the curtain was but just drawn, and +only the first scene of the infernal plot disclosed: +whether the end will be tragical, Heaven alone knows. +You cannot be, I know, nor do I wish to see you, an +inactive spectator; but, if the sword be drawn, I bid +adieu to all domestic felicity, and look forward to that +country where there are neither wars nor rumors of +wars, in a firm belief that, through the mercy of its +King, we shall both rejoice there together.”</p> +<p>Indeed, from this period till she joined her husband +in Europe, in 1784, she enjoyed very little of his +society. Had the state of the times rendered it safe +or agreeable for her to have accompanied her husband +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_56' name='page_56'></a>56</span> +in his journeys and voyages, the circumstances of the +family would not have allowed it. Without hereditary +fortune, with no opportunity of practising in his profession, +and now serving the public for a price which +would not defray his actual and necessary expenses,—Mr. +Adams would have been, in his old age, in +the lamentable condition of many of the most active +patriots of the revolution, who, devoting their years of +vigorous manhood to the service of their country, were +left, in their declining days, in a state of penury,—had +he not possessed in his wife a helper suited to the +exigency. She husbanded their small property, the +savings of years of professional prosperity; she managed +the farm with skill; and in all matters of business +she displayed a degree of judgment and sagacity not to +be exceeded. All the powers of her mind were now +called into activity, and her character displayed itself +in the most favorable colors. The official rank of her +husband imposed high duties upon her; her timid +neighbors looked to her for support and comfort, and +she was never found wanting.</p> +<p>The absence of Mr. Adams relieved his wife from +one source of anxiety—that for his personal safety. +As the conflict in the early periods of the revolution +was confined to the vicinity of Boston, and as the +feelings of parties were more exasperated here than +elsewhere, he would have been in the greatest danger +at home. It was a comfort to her that her husband +should “be absent a little while from the scenes of perturbation, +anxiety, and distress,” which surrounded her.</p> +<p>As from her residence she could be an eye-witness +of few of the events, the details of which she relates, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_57' name='page_57'></a>57</span> +her letters are of most value as furnishing a lively +exhibition of her own and of the public feeling. One +event, which passed under her own observation, she +thus describes: “In consequence of the powder +being taken from Charlestown, a general alarm spread +through many towns, and was pretty soon caught +here. On Sunday, a soldier was seen lurking about, +supposed to be a spy, but most likely a deserter. +However, intelligence of it was communicated to the +other parishes, and about eight o’clock, Sunday evening, +there passed by here about two hundred men, +preceded by a horse-cart, and marched down to the +powder-house, from whence they took the powder, and +carried it into the other parish, and there secreted it. +I opened the window upon their return. They passed +without any noise,—not a word among them,—till they +came against the house, when some of them, perceiving +me, asked me if I wanted any powder. I replied, +No, since it was in so good hands. The reason they +gave for taking it was, that we had so many tories +here, they dared not trust it; they had taken the sheriff +in their train, and upon their return they stopped +between Cleverly’s and Eltee’s, and called upon him +to deliver two warrants.<a name='FNanchor_0001' id='FNanchor_0001'></a><a href='#Footnote_0001' class='fnanchor'>[1]</a> Upon his producing them, +they put it to vote whether they should burn them, and +it passed in the affirmative. They then made a circle +and burnt them. They then called a vote whether +they should huzza, but, it being Sunday evening, it +passed in the negative. * * * This town appears as +high as you can well imagine, and, if necessary, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_58' name='page_58'></a>58</span> +would soon be in arms. Not a tory but hides his +head. The church parson thought they were coming +after him, and ran up garret; they say another jumped +out of his window, and hid among the corn; while a +third crept under his board fence, and told his beads.”</p> +<p>In the midst of her public cares and anxieties, she +did not neglect her sacred duties as a mother. The +care of the education of her four children devolved +entirely upon her, and “Johnny” was at an age to +require much attention. This subject occupied much +of her thoughts; and, indeed, the greatest value of her +published correspondence consists in the hints which it +gives us of the course of culture pursued in producing +those glorious fruits of which other generations have +had the enjoyment. She carefully guarded against +the contagion of vice at that period when the mind +and heart are most susceptible to impressions. “I +have always thought it,” she says to her husband, “of +very great importance that children should, in the +early part of life, be unaccustomed to such examples +as would tend to corrupt the purity of their words and +actions, that they may chill with horror at the sound +of an oath, and blush with indignation at an obscene +expression. These first principles, which grow with +their growth and strengthen with their strength, +neither time nor custom can totally eradicate.” By +precept, and much more by example, she sought to +instil principles, and to form habits, which should lead +to the practice of every virtue. Can we be surprised +at the abhorrence which her “illustrious son of an +illustrious mother” has ever exhibited to oppression, +when we find her thus expressing her sentiments in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_59' name='page_59'></a>59</span> +behalf of the oppressed, at a time when the subject of +which she speaks had not excited any attention either +in Europe or America?—“I wish sincerely there was +not a slave in the province; it always appeared to me +a most iniquitous scheme to fight ourselves for what +we are daily robbing and plundering from those who +have as good a right to freedom as we have.”</p> +<p>During the recess of Congress, Mr. Adams was at +home, but left it again for Philadelphia on the 14th +April, 1775. Four days afterwards the expedition to +Lexington and Concord took place. The news of this +event reached Mr. A. at Hartford; he, did not, however, +yield to his anxieties and return, but contented himself +by sending home encouragement and advice. After +saying that he never feels any personal fear, he adds, +“I am often concerned for you and our dear babes, surrounded +as you are by people who are too timorous, +and too much susceptible of alarm. Many fears and +imaginary evils will be suggested to you, but I hope +you will not be impressed by them. In case of real +danger, fly to the woods with my children.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Adams might be excused for entertaining +fears; her residence was near the sea-coast, and the +enemy sent out foraging expeditions: the point of +destination was perhaps some island in the harbor; +but of this there could be no certainty. Of one of +the alarms thus occasioned, Mrs. Adams writes to +her husband as follows: “I suppose you have had a +formidable account of the alarm we had last Sunday +morning. When I rose, about six o’clock, I was told +that the drums had been some time beating, and that +three alarm guns were fired; that Weymouth bell had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_60' name='page_60'></a>60</span> +been ringing, and Mr. Weld’s was then ringing. I +sent off an express to learn the cause, and found the +whole town in confusion. Three sloops and a cutter +had dropped anchor just below Great Hill. It was +difficult to tell their designs: some supposed they +were coming to Germantown, others to Weymouth: +people, women, children, came flocking down this +way; every woman and child driven off below my +father’s; my father’s family flying. The alarm flew +like lightning, and men from all parts came flocking +down, till two thousand were collected. But it seems +their expedition was to Grape Island, for Levett’s hay.” +“They delight,” says she, on another occasion, “in +molesting us upon the Sabbath. Two Sabbaths we +have been in such alarm that we have had no meeting; +this day we have sat under our own vine in quietness; +have heard Mr. Taft. The good man was earnest +and pathetic. I could forgive his weakness for the +sake of his sincerity; but I long for a Cooper and an +Elliot. I want a person who has feeling and sensibility; +who can take one up with him,</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>And ‘in his duty prompt at every call,’</p> +<p>Can ‘watch, and weep, and pray, and feel for all.’”</p> +</div></div> +<p>The battle of Bunker’s Hill followed soon, and, from +the top of the highest house in Braintree, Mrs. Adams +beheld the conflagration of Charlestown. But she does +not lose her courage. In writing to her husband, she +seeks to lessen his anxieties. “I would not,” says she, +“have you be distressed about me. I have been distressed, +but not dismayed. I have felt for my country +and her sons, and have bled with them and for them.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_61' name='page_61'></a>61</span></div> +<p>The appointment of General Washington to the +command of the army, then stationed at Cambridge, +inspired new confidence. Mrs. Adams thus speaks +of the impression made by her first interview with +him and General Lee: “I was struck with General +Washington. You had prepared me to entertain a +favorable opinion of him; but I thought the half was +not told me. Dignity with ease and complacency, +the gentleman and soldier, look agreeably blended in +him. Modesty marks every line and feature of his +face. Those lines of Dryden instantly occurred to +me—</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>‘Mark his majestic fabric! he’s a temple</p> +<p>Sacred by birth, and built by hands divine;</p> +<p>His soul’s the deity that lodges there;</p> +<p>Nor is the pile unworthy of the god.’</p> +</div></div> +<p>General Lee looks like a careless, hardy veteran, +and, by his appearance, brought to my mind his namesake, +Charles XII. of Sweden. The elegance of his +pen far exceeds that of his person.”</p> +<p>The horrors of war were now aggravated by those +of pestilence. From the British army in Boston, the +dysentery had spread into the surrounding country. +Mrs. Adams and her whole family were attacked. +“Our house,” she writes to her husband, September +8, 1775, “is a hospital in every part, and, what with +my own weakness and distress of mind for my family, +I have been unhappy enough. And such is the distress +of the neighborhood, that I can scarcely find a +well person to assist me in looking after the sick.” +Again on the 25th she writes, “I sit with a heavy +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_62' name='page_62'></a>62</span> +heart to write to you. Woe follows woe, and one +affliction treads upon the heels of another. My distress +in my own family having in some measure +abated, it is excited anew upon that of my dear +mother. She has taken the disorder, and lies so bad, +that we have little hope of her recovery.” On the +29th, “It is allotted me to go from the sick and almost +dying bed of one of the best of parents, to my own +habitation, where again I behold the same scene, only +varied by a remoter connection—</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>‘A bitter change, severer for severe.’</p> +</div></div> +<p>You can more easily conceive than I can describe +what are the sensations of my heart when absent from +either, continually expecting a messenger with the +fatal tidings.” “The desolation of war is not so +distressing as the havoc made by pestilence. Some +poor parents are mourning the loss of three, four, and +five children; and some families are wholly stripped +of every member.”</p> +<p>But the hand of the pestilence was stayed, and her +country again engrosses her thoughts. She very +early declares herself for independence, and wonders +how any honest heart can hesitate at adopting +the same sentiment. An attempt to drive the enemy +from Boston is meditated, and she tells us that she has +been kept in a state of anxiety and expectation. “It +has been said ‘to-morrow’ and ‘to-morrow’ for this +month; but when this dreadful to-morrow will be, I +know not. But hark! The house this instant shakes +with the roar of cannon. I have been to the door, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_63' name='page_63'></a>63</span> +find it a cannonade from our army.” The militia are +all ordered to repair to the lines. The result was +thus related: “I have just returned from Penn’s Hill, +where I have been sitting to hear the amazing roar of +cannon, and from whence I could see every shell +which was thrown. The sound, I think, is one of the +grandest in nature, and is of the true species of the +sublime. * * * I could no more sleep than if I +had been in the engagement: the rattling of the windows, +the jar of the house, the continual roar of +twenty-four pounders, and the bursting of shells, give +us such ideas, and realize a scene to us of which we +could form scarcely any conception. * * * All my +distress and anxiety is at present at an end. I feel +disappointed. This day our militia are all returning +without effecting any thing more than taking possession +of Dorchester Hill. I hope it is wise and just, +but, from all the muster and stir, I hoped and expected +more important and decisive scenes. I would not +have suffered all I have for two such hills.” The +British soon afterwards evacuated Boston, and Massachusetts +never again became the theatre of war.</p> +<p>In 1778, the fortitude of Mrs. Adams received a +new trial. Her husband was appointed one of the +commissioners at the court of France. The sea was +covered with the enemy’s ships; and, should he escape +these and all the natural dangers of the seas, and +arrive at the place of his destination in safety, rumor +said that he would there be exposed to one of a more +terrific character, “to the dark assassin, to the secret +murderer, and the bloody emissary of as cruel a +tyrant as God, in his righteous judgments, ever suffered +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_64' name='page_64'></a>64</span> +to disgrace the throne of Britain. I have,” continues +Mrs. Adams, writing soon after her husband’s +departure, “travelled with you across the Atlantic, +and could have landed you safe, with humble confidence, +at your desired haven, and then have set +myself down to enjoy a negative kind of happiness, +in the painful part which it has pleased Heaven to +allot me; but the intelligence with regard to that +great philosopher, able statesman, and unshaken +friend of his country,”—alluding to a report of Dr. +Franklin’s assassination in Paris,—<ins title='Guessing at start of quote'>“has</ins> planted a dagger +in my breast, and I feel with a double edge the +weapon that pierced his bosom. * * * To my dear +son remember me in the most affectionate terms. +Enjoin it upon him never to disgrace his mother, and +to behave worthily of his father. I console myself +with the hopes of his reaping advantages under the +careful eye of a tender parent, which it was not in my +power to bestow.” Mr. Adams was accompanied by +his eldest son, John Quincy Adams, and, after incurring +various hazards from lightning, storm, and the +enemy, arrived in France. The maternal solicitude +of Mrs. Adams relieved itself in part by writing letters +to her son filled with the warmest affection and the +most wise counsel. She urges it upon him “to +adhere to those religious sentiments and principles +which were early instilled into your mind, and remember +that you are accountable to your Maker for all +your words and actions. Great learning and superior +abilities, should you ever possess them, will be of +little value and small estimation, unless virtue, honor, +truth, and integrity, are added to them. Dear as you +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_65' name='page_65'></a>65</span> +are to me, I would much rather you should have found +a grave in the ocean you have crossed, than see you +an immoral, profligate, or graceless child.”</p> +<p>As has already been said, Mrs. Adams managed +her husband’s money affairs at home. A short extract +from one of her business letters to him may be interesting, +and will show how a matter always troublesome +was in such times doubly so: “The safest way, +you tell me, of supplying my wants, is by drafts; but +I cannot get hard money for bills. You had as good +tell me to procure diamonds for them; and when bills +will fetch but five for one, hard money will exchange +ten, which I think is very provoking; and I must give +at the rate of ten, and sometimes twenty, for one, for +every article I purchase. I blush whilst I give you a +price current; all meat from a dollar to eight shillings +a pound; corn twenty-five dollars, rye thirty, +per bushel; flour two hundred dollars per hundred +pounds; potatoes ten dollars per bushel, &c. I have +studied, and do study, every method of economy; +otherwise a mint of money would not support a family. +I could not board our sons under forty dollars a week +at school. * * * We have been greatly distressed for +grain. I scarcely know the looks or taste of biscuit +or flour for this four months; yet thousands have been +much worse off, having no grain of any sort.” Nor +were things then at the worst; for in October, 1780, +we find “meat eight dollars, and butter twelve, per +pound; corn one hundred and twenty dollars, and rye +one hundred and eight, per bushel; tea ninety dollars, +and cotton wool thirty, per pound.” But our readers +must not suppose that this was entirely owing to a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_66' name='page_66'></a>66</span> +scarcity of products; these prices are in “continental +money,” seventy dollars of which would hardly command +one of “hard money.”</p> +<p>Hitherto Mr. Adams’s residence had seemed too unsettled +to render it worth while for his wife to undertake +a long and dangerous voyage to meet him. But +after the acknowledgment of our independence by +Great Britain, a commission was sent to Mr. Adams +as first minister to that court; and it was probable +that his residence there would be sufficiently long to +justify him in a request to Mrs. Adams to join him. +The feelings of the latter on the subject were thus expressed +before the appointment was actually made: +“I have not a wish to join in a scene of life so different +from that in which I have been educated, and +in which my early, and, I must suppose, happier days +have been spent. Well-ordered home is my chief +delight, and the affectionate, domestic wife, with the +relative duties which accompany that character, my +highest ambition. It was the disinterested wish of +sacrificing my personal feelings to the public utility, +which first led me to think of unprotectedly hazarding +a voyage. This objection could only be surmounted +by the earnest wish I had to soften those toils which +were not to be dispensed with; and if the public welfare +required your labors and exertions abroad, I +flattered myself that, if I could be with you, it might +be in my power to contribute to your happiness and +pleasure.” “I think, if you were abroad in a private +character, I should not hesitate so much at coming to +you; but a mere American, as I am, unacquainted +with the etiquette of courts, taught to say the thing I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_67' name='page_67'></a>67</span> +mean, and to wear my heart in my countenance,—I +am sure I should make an awkward figure; and then +it would mortify my pride, if I should be thought to +disgrace you.”</p> +<p>In spite, however, of this reluctance, she embarked +on board the <i>Active</i>, a merchant ship, for London. +Of this voyage Mrs. Adams has given a most graphic +and not very agreeable picture; and nothing can present +a greater contrast than her dirty, close, narrow +quarters, on board a vessel deeply loaded with oil and +potash,—the oil leaking, and the potash smoking and +fermenting,—with the floating palaces in which the +voyage is now made. The culinary department was +in keeping with the rest of the ship. “The cook was +a great, dirty, lazy negro, with no more knowledge of +cookery than a savage; nor any kind of order in the +distribution of his dishes; but on they come, higgledy-piggledy, +with a leg of pork all bristly; a quarter of +an hour afterwards, a pudding; or, perhaps, a pair of +roast fowls first of all, and then will follow, one by one, +a piece of beef, and, when dinner is nearly completed, +a plate of potatoes. Such a fellow is a real imposition +upon the passengers. But gentlemen know but little +about the matter, and if they can get enough to eat five +times a day, all goes well.” Yet the passengers, of +whom there were a number, were agreeable, and, as the +wind and weather were favorable, the voyage did not +last more than thirty days.</p> +<p>She hoped to have found Mr. Adams in London, +but he was at the Hague; and “Master John,” after +waiting a month for her in London, had returned to the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_68' name='page_68'></a>68</span> +latter place. She received, however, every attention +from the numerous Americans then in London, refugees +as well as others, many of whom had been her personal +friends at home. Ten days were spent in sight-seeing, +on the last of which a servant comes running in, exclaiming, +“Young Mr. Adams has come!” “Where, +where is he?” cried out all. “In the other house, +madam; he stopped to get his hair dressed.” “Impatient +enough I was,” continues Mrs. A.; “yet, when +he entered, we had so many strangers, that I drew +back, not really believing my eyes, till he cried out, +‘O my mamma, and my dear sister!’ Nothing but +the eyes, at first sight, appeared what he once was. +His appearance is that of a man, and on his countenance +the most perfect good-humor; his conversation +by no means denies his stature.”</p> +<p>Her first year in Europe was spent at Auteuil, near +Paris, and she seems to have enjoyed herself, in spite +of her ignorance of the language; though she sometimes +expresses her longing for home and the enjoyment +of social intercourse with her friends in America. +Her letters, during this period, present us with a lively +picture of the state of society and of manners. We have +space only for her account of her first visit to madame +de la Fayette. “The marquise met me at the door, +and with the freedom of an old acquaintance, and the +rapture peculiar to the ladies of this nation, caught me +by the hand, and gave me a salute upon each cheek. +She presented me to her mother and sister, who were +present with her, all sitting in her bedroom, quite +<i>en famille</i>. One of the ladies was knitting. The +marquise herself was in a chintz gown. She is a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_69' name='page_69'></a>69</span> +middle-sized lady, sprightly and agreeable, and professes +herself strongly attached to Americans. She is +fond of her children, and very attentive to them, which +is not the general character of ladies of high rank in +Europe. In a few days, she returned my visit, upon +which I sent her a card of invitation to dine. She +came. We had a large company. There is not a lady +in our country who would have gone abroad to dine so +little dressed; and one of our fine American ladies, +who sat by me, whispered to me, ‘Good heavens! how +awfully she is dressed!’ I could not forbear returning +the whisper, which I most sincerely despised, by +replying that the lady’s rank sets her above the little +formalities of dress. The rouge, ’tis true, was not so +artfully laid on, as upon the faces of the American +ladies who were present. Whilst they were glittering +with diamonds, buckles, watch-chains, girdle-buckles, +&c., the marquise was nowise ruffled by her own +different appearance. A really well-bred Frenchwoman +has the most ease in her manners that you +can possibly conceive of.”</p> +<p>In June, 1784, Mr. Adams took up his residence in +London. His situation and that of his wife was far +from being a pleasant one. The hostile feelings towards +Americans, engendered by so many years of +warfare, and exasperated by the mortification of ill-success, +had not subsided. The loss of his North American +colonies was severely felt by the king, who had +too much good sense, however, to suffer his feelings to +appear in his intercourse with the new minister; but +the queen, who, though exemplary in the discharge of +domestic duties, was weak-minded, proud, and petulant, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_70' name='page_70'></a>70</span> +could not conceal her bitterness, and her conduct +towards Mrs. Adams was hardly civil. Perhaps, however, +the account of it given by the latter is colored +by her own prejudices against the royal family, which, +throughout her life were expressed in the strongest +language, and which, towards the king, at least, were +entirely unjust. Her presentation at court could not +but be somewhat embarrassing and awkward to all +parties. The manner in which it passed shall be related +in her own words. “The ceremony of presentation is +considered as indispensable. One is obliged to attend +the circles of the queen, which are held in summer +once a fortnight, but once a week the rest of the year; +and what renders it very expensive, is, that you cannot +go twice the same season in the same dress, and a +court dress cannot be used any where else. I directed +my mantua-maker to let my dress be elegant, but as +plain as it could be, with decency; accordingly it is +white lutestring, covered and full trimmed with white +crape, festooned with lilac ribbon and mock point lace, +over a hoop of enormous extent; a narrow train of +three yards, which is put into a ribbon on the left side, +the queen only having a train-bearer. Ruffle cuffs, +treble lace ruffles, a very dress cap, with long lace +lappets, two white plumes, and a blond lace handkerchief—this +is my rigging. I should have mentioned +two pearl pins in my hair, ear-rings and necklace of +the same kind. * * * ‘Well,’ methinks I hear you +say, ‘what is your daughter’s dress?’ White, my +dear girls, like her mother’s, only differently trimmed; +her train being wholly of white crape, and trimmed +with white ribbon; the petticoat, which is the most +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_71' name='page_71'></a>71</span> +showy part of the dress, covered and drawn up in what +are called festoons, with light wreaths of beautiful +flowers; sleeves white crape, drawn over the silk, with +a row of lace round the sleeve, near the shoulder, +another half way down the arm, and a third upon the +top of the ruffle, a little flower stuck between; a kind +of hat cap, with three large feathers, and a bunch of +flowers; a wreath of flowers upon the hair. * * * +We were placed in a circle round the drawing-room, +which was very full, I believe two hundred persons +present. The royal family have to go to every person, +and find small talk enough to speak to all, though they +very prudently speak in a whisper. The king enters, +and goes round to the right; the queen and princesses +to the left. The king is a personable man, but with a +red face and white eyebrows. The queen has a similar +face, and the numerous royal family resemble +them. When the king came to me, Lord Onslaw +said, ‘Mrs. Adams;’ upon which I drew off my right +hand glove, and his majesty saluted my left cheek, +then asked me if I had taken a walk to-day. I could +have told his majesty that I had been all the morning +preparing to wait upon him; but I replied, ‘No, sire.’ +‘Why, don’t you love walking?’ says he. I answered +that I was rather indolent in that respect. He +then bowed and passed on. It was more than two +hours after this, before it came my turn to be presented +to the queen. She was evidently embarrassed when I +was presented to her. I had disagreeable feelings too. +She, however, said, ‘Mrs. Adams, have you got into +your house? Pray, how do you like the situation of +it?’ whilst the royal princess looked compassionate, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_72' name='page_72'></a>72</span> +and asked me if I was not much fatigued. Her sister, +Princess Augusta, after having asked your niece if she +was ever in England before, and her answering, ‘Yes,’ +inquired of me how long ago, and supposed it was +when she was very young. And all this with much +affability, and the ease and freedom of old acquaintance. +* * * As to the ladies of the court, rank and +title may compensate for want of personal charms; but +they are, in general, very plain, ill-shaped, and ugly; +but don’t you tell any body that I say so; the observation +did not hold good, that fine feathers make fine +birds.” Referring to this same occasion in a subsequent +letter, she says, “I own that I never felt myself +in a more contemptible situation than when I stood +four hours together for a gracious smile from majesty, +a witness to the anxious solicitude of those around me +for the same mighty <i>boon</i>. I, however, had a more +dignified honor, as his majesty <i>deigned to salute me</i>.”</p> +<p>Of other sources of annoyance Mrs. Adams thus +speaks: “Some years hence, it may be a pleasure to +reside here in the character of American minister; +but, with the present salary, and the present temper +of the English, no one need envy the embassy. There +would soon be fine work, if any notice was taken of +their billingsgate and abuse; but all their arrows +rebound, and fall harmless to the ground. Amidst +all their falsehoods, they have never insinuated a lisp +against the private character of the American minister, +nor in his public line charged him with either want +of abilities, honor, or integrity. The whole venom is +levelled against poor America, and every effort to +make her appear ridiculous in the eyes of the nation.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_73' name='page_73'></a>73</span></div> +<p>It would have been difficult to find a person better +adapted than Mrs. Adams for the trying situation in +which she found herself. In other times, a woman of +more yielding temper, who could adapt herself more +readily to those about her, would, perhaps, answer +better. Love of country was engrained in her; for +her “the birds of Europe had not half the melody of +those at home; the fruit was not half so sweet, nor +the flowers half so fragrant, nor the manners half so +pure, nor the people half so virtuous.” Three years’ +residence in England produced no change of feeling. +In anticipation of a return to her home, we find her +writing thus: “I shall quit Europe with more pleasure +than I came to it, uncontaminated, I hope, with its +manners and vices. I have learned to know the +world and its value; I have seen high life; I have +witnessed the luxury and pomp of state, the power of +riches, and the influence of titles, and have beheld all +ranks bow before them, as the only shrine worthy of +worship. Notwithstanding this, I feel that I can return +to my little cottage, and be happier than here; and, if +we have not wealth, we have what is better—integrity.”</p> +<p>Soon after Mr. Adams’s return, he was elected vice-president +of the United States, and took up his residence, +at least during the sessions of Congress, first +at New York, and afterwards at Philadelphia. The +“court” of General Washington was much more to +the taste of Mrs. Adams than that of George III.; the +circle at the first “drawing-room,” she tells us, was +very brilliant; that “the dazzling Mrs. Bingham and +her charming sisters were there; in short, a constellation +of beauties.”</p> +<p>The next eight years of her life, during which her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_74' name='page_74'></a>74</span> +husband held the office of vice-president, were passed +with few incidents to disturb her happiness. Another +generation, the children of her daughter, who was +married to Colonel Smith, were receiving the benefits +of her instruction and experience.</p> +<p>A residence at Philadelphia was not favorable to +her health, which, never having been very firm, about +this period began decidedly to fail. The bracing air +of Quincy was found to be more congenial. For this +reason, she was not with her husband at the time when +his official duty required him to announce himself as +the successor to General Washington; and to this circumstance +we are indebted for the following letter,—written +on the day on which the votes were counted +by the Senate,—in which, says her biographer, “the +exalted feeling of the moment shines out with all the +lustre of ancient patriotism, chastened by a sentiment +of Christian humility of which ancient history furnishes +no example:”—</p> +<blockquote> +<p class='sig2'>“<span class='smcap'>Quincy</span>, <i>February 8th, 1797</i>.</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“‘The sun is dressed in brightest beams,</p> +<p>To give thy honors to the day.’</p> +</div></div> +<p>And may it prove an auspicious prelude to each +ensuing season. You have this day to declare yourself +head of a nation. ‘And now, O Lord, thou hast +made thy servant ruler over the people. Give unto +him an understanding heart, that he may know how to +go out and come in before this great people; that he +may discern between good and bad. For who is able +to judge this thy so great a people?’ were the words +of a royal sovereign, and not less applicable to him +who is invested with the chief magistracy of a nation, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_75' name='page_75'></a>75</span> +though he wear not a crown, nor the robes of royalty. +My thoughts and my meditations are with you, though +personally absent; and my petitions to Heaven are, +that the ‘things which make for peace may not be +hidden from your eyes.’ My feelings are not those +of pride or ostentation. They are solemnized by a +sense of the obligations, the important trusts, and +numerous duties, connected with it. That you may +be enabled to discharge them with honor to yourself, +with justice and impartiality to your country, and with +satisfaction to this great people, shall be the daily +prayer of your</p> +<p class='sig1'>A. A.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Never has this country witnessed such scenes as +characterized the struggle between the two great +political parties which divided the people during Mr. +Adams’s administration. As the representative of one +of these, he was assailed with an asperity and malignity +to which, happily, succeeding electioneering +furnishes no parallel. Accustomed to take a warm +interest in political events, it could not be expected that +Mrs. Adams should cease to do so when her husband +was the chief actor; nor is it surprising that she +should have felt what she deemed the ingratitude of +his countrymen in casting aside so long-tried and +faithful a servant. Retirement to private life was to +her a source of rejoicing rather than of regret. At +her age, and with her infirmities, she was far happier +at Quincy, overseeing the operations of her dairy, +whilst her husband, like Cincinnatus, assumed the +plough. She has left a record of one day’s life; and +from this we suppose other days varied but little. +It is in a letter to her granddaughter, dated November +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_76' name='page_76'></a>76</span> +19th, 1812. “Six o’clock. Rose, and, in +imitation of his Britannic majesty, kindled my own +fire. Went to the stairs, as usual, to summon George +and Charles. Returned to my chamber, dressed myself. +No one stirred. Called a second time, with a +voice a little raised. Seven o’clock. Blockheads not +out of bed. Girls in motion. Mean, when I hire +another man-servant, that he shall come for one call. +Eight o’clock. Fires made. Breakfast prepared. +Mr. A. at the tea-board. Forgot the sausages. Susan’s +recollection brought them upon the table. <i>Enter +Ann.</i> ‘Ma’am, the man is come with coal.’ ‘Go +call George to assist him.’ <i>Exit Ann.</i> <i>Enter Charles.</i> +‘Mr. B. is come with cheese, turnips, &c. Where +are they to be put?’ ‘I will attend to him myself.’ +<i>Exit Charles.</i> Just seated at the table again. <i>Enter +George</i>, with, ‘Ma’am, here is a man with a drove of +pigs.’ A consultation is held upon this important +subject, the result of which is the purchase of two +spotted swine. Nine o’clock. <i>Enter Nathaniel</i> from +the upper house, with a message for sundries; and +black Thomas’s daughter for sundries. Attended to +all these concerns. A little out of sorts that I could +not finish my breakfast. Note; never to be incommoded +with trifles. <i>Enter George Adams</i> from the +post-office—a large packet from Russia, (to which +court her son J. Q. Adams was then minister.) +Avaunt, all cares! I put you all aside, and thus I find +good news from a far country. Children, grandchildren +all well. For this blessing I give thanks. At twelve +o’clock, by previous engagement, I was to call for +cousin B. Smith, to accompany me to the bridge at +Quincy Port, being the first day of passing it. Passed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_77' name='page_77'></a>77</span> +both bridges, and entered Hingham. Returned before +three. Dined, and, at five, went to Mr. T. G. Smith, +with your grandfather—the third visit he has made +with us in the week; and let me whisper to you, he +played at whist. Returned. At nine, sat down and +wrote a letter. At eleven, retired to bed. By all this +you will learn that grandmother has got rid of her +croaking, and that grandfather is in good health, and +that both of us are as tranquil as that bold old fellow, +Time, will let us be. Here I was interrupted in my +narrative. I reassume my pen upon the 22d of November, +being this day sixty-eight years old.”<a name='FNanchor_0002' id='FNanchor_0002'></a><a href='#Footnote_0002' class='fnanchor'>[2]</a></p> +<p>From 1801 until her death, in 1818, Mrs. Adams +resided at Quincy. Cheerful and retaining the possession +of her faculties to the last, she enlivened the +social circle about her, and solaced the solitary hours +of her husband. She lived long enough to see the +seeds of virtue and knowledge which she had planted +in the minds of her children, spring up and ripen into +maturity; to receive a recompense, in addition to the +consciousness of duty performed, for her anxiety and +labors, in the respect and honors which her eldest son +received from his countrymen.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_79' name='page_79'></a>79</span> +<a name='MRS_WASHINGTON' id='MRS_WASHINGTON'></a> +<h2>MRS. WASHINGTON.</h2> +</div> +<p>Martha Dandridge was born in the county of New +Kent, Virginia, in May, 1732. Her education was entirely +of a domestic character, there being no schools +in the region where she dwelt. As she grew up, she +was distinguished for personal beauty, pleasing manners, +and general amiability of demeanor. She frequently +appeared at the court of Williamsburg, then +held by the royal governors of Virginia, and became a +general favorite.</p> +<p>At the age of seventeen, she was married to Daniel +Park Custis, of her native county, and the new-married +couple were settled at the White House, on the +banks of the Pamunkey River. Mr. Custis devoted +himself to agricultural pursuits, and became an eminently +successful planter. They had four children, +two of whom died at an early period. Martha arrived +at womanhood, and died at Mount Vernon, in 1770, and +John perished at the age of twenty-seven, while in the +service of his country, at the siege of Yorktown, in +1781. Mr. Custis died at about middle age, leaving +his widow, still young, yet possessed of an ample +fortune. Beside extensive landed estates, she had +£30,000 sterling in money.</p> +<div class='figcenter'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_4' id='linki_4'></a> +</div> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_80' name='page_80'></a>80</span> +<img src='images/illo-078.png' alt='' title='' width='396' height='550' /> +<br /> +<p class='caption'> +MRS. WASHINGTON.<br /> +</p> +</div> +<p>Mrs. Custis was sole executor of her husband’s will, +and she appears to have been well qualified to discharge +the duties which devolved upon her. She +conducted her affairs with surprising ability, and the +concerns of her extensive fortune seemed to thrive +under her management. In 1758, Colonel Washington, +then twenty-six years of age, became accidentally +acquainted with the fair widow, and, after a brief +courtship, they were married. This occurred in 1759. +Soon after, they removed to Mount Vernon, which +henceforward became their permanent residence.</p> +<p>Mrs. Washington had no children by this second +marriage. Martha and John Custis were, however, +fully adopted into the affections of her present husband. +In discharging her various domestic duties, +and rearing her children, time flowed smoothly on +for almost twenty years. In 1775, Washington, being +appointed commander-in-chief of the American army, +proceeded to Cambridge, and did not return to Mount +Vernon till after the peace of 1783, except in a single +instance. In December, she proceeded to Cambridge, +and joined her husband. Here she remained till +spring, having witnessed the siege and evacuation of +Boston. She then returned to Virginia.</p> +<p>During the war, it was the custom for the general +to despatch an aid-de-camp to Mount Vernon, at the +close of each campaign, to escort his wife to head-quarters. +The arrival of Lady Washington, as she +was now called, at the camp, was an event always +anticipated with pleasure, and was the signal for the +ladies of the general officers to join their husbands. +The appearance of the aid-de-camp, escorting the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_81' name='page_81'></a>81</span> +plain family chariot, with the neat postilions in their +scarlet and white liveries, was deemed an epoch in +the army, and served to diffuse a cheering influence +even amid the gloom which hung over our destinies, +at Valley Forge, Morristown, and West Point. She +always remained at head-quarters till the opening of +the campaign, and she often remarked, in after life, +that it had been her fortune to hear the first cannon +at the opening, and the last at the closing, of the several +campaigns of the war.</p> +<p>During the whole period of the revolutionary +struggle, she preserved her equanimity, together with +a degree of cheerfulness which inspired all around her +with the brightest hopes of final success. The glorious +results of the campaign of 1781 were, however, +associated with an event most afflictive to her. John +Custis, now her only child, had accompanied Washington +to the siege of Boston, and had witnessed the +most important events of the contest. At Yorktown, +he was one of the aids of Washington, and lived to +see the surrender of the British army on the 19th of +October; but he died soon after of camp fever, which +was then raging to a frightful extent within the enemy’s +intrenchments.</p> +<p>The war being closed, Washington returned to Mount +Vernon. His time was now occupied in the peaceful +pursuits of private life. He cultivated his lands, and +improved his residence at Mount Vernon by additional +buildings, and the laying out of his gardens and +grounds. He occasionally diversified his employments +by the pleasures of the chase. Much of his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_82' name='page_82'></a>82</span> +time, however, was occupied in discharging the grateful +duties of hospitality. His fame was spread far and +wide, and his home was crowded with guests, among +whom were often seen illustrious strangers from +foreign lands. During this happy period, Mrs. Washington +performed the duties of a Virginia housewife, +and presided at her well-spread board, with an ease +and elegance of manner suited to her character and +station.</p> +<p>The period at length arrived when Washington was +again to leave his home, and enter upon public duties. +Being elected president of the United States, he set +out, in the spring of 1789, to join Congress at New +York, then the seat of the general government. Accompanied +by his lady, he proceeded to that city, +every where received by crowds of people, showering +upon him their most grateful homage. At Trenton, +New Jersey, he was received in a manner which is said +to have affected him even to tears. In addition to the +usual military compliments, the bridge over the creek +running through the town was covered with a triumphal +arch, supported by thirteen pillars, entwined and +ornamented with flowers and laurel, and bearing on +the front, in large gilt letters, this inscription:—</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p class='center'>“THE DEFENDER OF THE MOTHERS</p> +<p class='center'>WILL BE THE</p> +<p class='center'>PROTECTOR OF THE DAUGHTERS.”</p> +</div></div> +<p>Here were assembled the mothers and daughters +dressed in white, each bearing a basket of flowers, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_83' name='page_83'></a>83</span> +which were strewn before the chief, while they sang +it chorus,</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“Welcome, mighty chief, once more,</p> +<p>Welcome to this grateful shore;</p> +<p class='indent2'>Now no mercenary foe</p> +<p class='indent2'>Aims again the fatal blow,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Aims at thee the fatal blow.</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>Virgins fair and matrons grave,</p> +<p>Those thy conquering arms did save,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Build for thee triumphal bowers;</p> +<p class='indent2'>Strew, ye fair, his way with flowers,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Strew your hero’s way with flowers.”</p> +</div></div> +<p>Arrived at New York, the president’s establishment +was formed upon a scale partaking at once of simplicity +and dignity. “The house was handsomely +furnished; the equipages neat, with horses of the first +order; the servants wore the family liveries; and, +with the exception of a steward and housekeeper, the +whole establishment differed very little from that of a +private gentleman. On Tuesdays, from three to four +o’clock, the president received the foreign ambassadors +and strangers who wished to be introduced to +him. On these occasions, and when opening the +session of Congress, he wore a dress sword. His +personal apparel was always remarkable for being +old-fashioned, and exceedingly plain and neat.</p> +<p>“On Thursdays were the congressional dinners, +and on Friday night, Mrs. Washington’s drawing-room. +The company usually assembled about seven, +and rarely staid exceeding ten o’clock. The ladies +were seated, and the president passed round the circle, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_84' name='page_84'></a>84</span> +paying his compliments to each. At the drawing-rooms, +Mrs. Morris always sat at the right of the lady +president, and at all dinners, public or private, at +which Robert Morris was a guest, that venerable man +was placed at the right of Mrs. Washington. When +ladies called at the president’s mansion, the habit was +for the secretaries and gentlemen of the president’s +household to hand them to and from their carriages; +but when the honored relicts of Greene and Montgomery +came, the president himself performed these +complimentary duties.</p> +<p>“On the great national festivals of the fourth of +July and twenty-second of February, the sages of the +revolutionary Congress and the officers of the revolutionary +army renewed their acquaintance with Mrs. +Washington. Many and kindly greetings took place, +with many a recollection of the days of trial. The +members of the Society of Cincinnatus, after paying +their respects to the chief, were seen to file off towards +the parlor, where Lady Washington was in waiting to +receive them, and where Wayne, and Mifflin, and +Dickenson, and Stewart, and Moylan, and Hartley, +and a host of veterans, were cordially welcomed as +old friends, and where many an interesting reminiscence +was called up, of the head-quarters and the +‘times of the revolution.’</p> +<p>“On Sundays, unless the weather was uncommonly +severe, the president and Mrs. Washington attended +divine service at Christ Church; and in the evenings, +the president read to Mrs. Washington, in her chamber, +a sermon, or some portion of the sacred writings. No +visitors, with the exception of Mr. Trumbull, of Connecticut,—who +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_85' name='page_85'></a>85</span> +was then speaker of the house, and +afterwards governor of Connecticut,—were admitted +on Sunday.</p> +<p>“There was one description of visitors, however, to +be found about the first president’s mansion, on all days. +The old soldiers repaired, as they said, to head-quarters, +just to inquire after the health of his excellency +and Lady Washington. They knew his excellency +was, of course, much engaged; but they would +like to see the good lady. One had been a soldier of +the life-guard; another had been on duty, when the +British threatened to surprise the head-quarters; a third +had witnessed that terrible fellow, Cornwallis, surrender +his sword; each one had some touching appeal, with +which to introduce himself at the peaceful head-quarters +of the president. All were ‘kindly bid to stay,’ +were conducted to the steward’s apartments, and refreshments +set before them; and, after receiving some +little token from the lady, with her best wishes for the +health and happiness of an old soldier, they went their +ways, while blessings upon their revered commander +and the good Lady Washington were uttered by many +a war-worn veteran of the revolution.”<a name='FNanchor_0003' id='FNanchor_0003'></a><a href='#Footnote_0003' class='fnanchor'>[3]</a></p> +<p>In the autumn of 1789, General Washington made a +tour to the Eastern States. Soon after his return, Mrs. +Washington addressed a letter to Mrs. Warren, of +Boston, giving an account of her views and feelings at +that period, which, as it is interesting for the information +it contains, and alike creditable to the head and +heart of the writer, we present to the reader. It is +dated December 26th, 1789.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_86' name='page_86'></a>86</span></div> +<p>“Your very friendly letter of last month has afforded +much more satisfaction than all the formal compliments +and empty ceremonies of mere etiquette could +possibly have done. I am not apt to forget the feelings +which have been inspired by my former society with +good acquaintances, nor to be insensible to their expressions +of gratitude to the president; for you know +me well enough to do me the justice to believe that I +am fond only of what comes from the heart. Under a +conviction that the demonstrations of respect and +affection to him originate in that source, I cannot deny +that I have taken some interest and pleasure in them. +The difficulties which first presented themselves to +view on his first entering upon the presidency, seem +thus to be in some measure surmounted. It is owing +to the kindness of our numerous friends in all quarters +that my new and unwished-for situation is not indeed a +burden to me. When I was much younger, I should +probably have enjoyed the innocent gayeties of life as +much as most persons of my age; but I had long +since placed all the prospects of my future happiness +in the still enjoyments of the fireside at Mount Vernon.</p> +<p>“I little thought, when the war was finished, that any +circumstances could possibly happen, which would call +the general into public life again. I had anticipated +that, from that moment, we should be suffered to grow +old together in solitude and tranquillity. That was the +first and dearest wish of my heart. I will not, however, +contemplate with too much regret, disappointments +that were inevitable, though his feelings and +my own were in perfect unison with respect to our +predilection for private life. Yet I cannot blame him +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_87' name='page_87'></a>87</span> +for having acted according to his ideas of duty in obeying +the voice of his country. The consciousness of +having attempted to do all the good in his power, and +the pleasure of finding his fellow-citizens so well satisfied +with the disinterestedness of his conduct, will, +doubtless, be some compensation for the great sacrifices +which I know he has made. Indeed, on his journey +from Mount Vernon to this place in his late tour through +the Eastern States, by every public and every private +information which has come to him, I am persuaded he +has experienced nothing to make him repent his having +acted from what he conceived to be a sense of indispensable +duty. On the contrary, all his sensibility has +been awakened in receiving such repeated and unequivocal +proofs of sincere regard from his countrymen.</p> +<p>“With respect to myself, I sometimes think the +arrangement is not quite as it ought to have been,—that +I, who had much rather be at home, should occupy a +place with which a great many younger and gayer +women would be extremely pleased. As my grandchildren +and domestic connections make up a great +portion of the felicity which I looked for in this world, +I shall hardly be able to find any substitute that will +indemnify me for the loss of a part of such endearing +society. I do not say this because I feel dissatisfied +with my present station; for every body and every +thing conspire to make me as contented as possible in +it; yet I have learned too much of the vanity of human +affairs to expect felicity from the scenes of public life. +I am still determined to be cheerful and happy in whatever +situation I may be; for I have also learned from +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_88' name='page_88'></a>88</span> +experience that the greater part of our happiness or +misery depends on our dispositions, and not on our circumstances. +We carry the seeds of the one or the +other about with us in our minds wherever we go.</p> +<p>“I have two of my grandchildren with me, who +enjoy advantages in point of education, and who, I +trust, by the goodness of Providence, will be a great +blessing to me. My other two grandchildren are with +their mother in Virginia.”</p> +<p>In the spring of 1797, bidding adieu to public life, +Washington took leave of the seat of government, and +returned to Mount Vernon, prepared in good earnest to +spend the remainder of his days in retirement. He +accepted, indeed, the command of the army of the +United States, soon after; but this did not draw him +from his home. In 1799, he died, after a brief illness. +His affectionate partner was at the bedside when his +spirit departed. “It is all over now,” said she. “I +shall soon follow him. I have no more trials to pass +through.” About two years after, she was seized with +bilious fever. Being perfectly aware that her end was +at hand, she assembled her grandchildren at her bedside, +discoursed with them of their duties in life, of the +happy influences of religion, of the consolations it had +afforded her in hours of affliction, and the hopes it +offered of a blessed immortality; and then, surrounded +by weeping relatives, friends, and domestics, the venerable +relict of Washington resigned her life into the +hands of her Creator, in the seventy-first year of +her age.</p> +<p>Few women have figured in the great drama of life, +amid scenes so varied and imposing, with so few faults, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_89' name='page_89'></a>89</span> +and so many virtues, as Martha Washington. Identified +with the Father of his country in the great +events which led to our national independence, she +partook much of his thoughts, views, and counsels. In +the dark hours of trial, her cheerfulness soothed his +anxieties, and her devotional piety aided him in drawing +hope and confidence from Heaven. She was +indeed the fit partner of Washington, and, in her +sphere, appears to have discharged her duties with a +dignity, devotion, and consistency, worthy of her +exalted destinies.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_90' name='page_90'></a>90</span> +<a name='MADAME_DE_STAEL' id='MADAME_DE_STAEL'></a> +<h2>MADAME DE STAEL.</h2> +</div> +<p>Jacques Necker, born of Protestant parents at +Geneva, was sent, at the age of fifteen, to seek his +fortune at Paris. After serving as a clerk in the banking-house +of Vernet, he passed into that of the eminent +banker Thelusson, where he displayed such a capacity +for business, as to lead to his admission into the house +as a partner. In a few years he acquired a large fortune, +and withdrew from active business, but remained +at Paris as minister of the republic of Geneva to the +French court. His “Eloge de Colbert,” which gained +the prize in the French Academy in 1773, and his +essay on the corn laws, first drew towards him the +attention of the public, which finally settled upon him +as the only person capable of preserving the country +from that bankruptcy upon the verge of which it was +standing; and Louis XVI., notwithstanding his religious +bigotry, was compelled to appoint Necker to the office +of director-general of the finances, in 1785, being +the first Protestant who had held office since the revocation +of the edict of Nantes.</p> +<p>There resided with Madame Thelusson, as companion, +a Swiss lady, named Curchod, the same who +had the fortune to excite in the bosom of the historian +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_91' name='page_91'></a>91</span> +Gibbon, for the first and last time, the passion of love. +There is, however, no undue praise in the following +description which he has given of her: “The personal +attractions of Mdlle. Curchod were embellished by the +virtues and talents of her mind. Her fortune was humble, +but her family was respectable. Her mother, a native +of France, had preferred her religion to her country. +Her father, with the moderation of a philosopher, was +content with a small salary and laborious duty in the +obscure lot of minister of Cressy, a small village in +the mountains of Switzerland. He bestowed a liberal +and even learned education on his only daughter. She +surpassed his hopes by her proficiency in the sciences +and languages; and in her short visits to Lausanne, the +wit, the beauty, and the learning, of Mademoiselle +Curchod were the theme of universal applause. The +report of such a prodigy awakened my curiosity; I +saw and loved. I found her learned without pedantry, +witty in conversation, pure in sentiment, and elegant in +manners.” After the death of her father, she supported +herself and her mother by teaching young ladies at +Geneva; from whence she removed to Paris.</p> +<p>The character of Necker gained her admiration, her +respect, and her love. She married him; and, from +that time, the great business of her life was to make +him happy. To divert him after the cares of business, +she sought to make her house agreeable. She had not +the light and gay manners of a Parisian lady, but she +had a native grace and sweetness, and a solidity of +talent, which caused her society to be sought for by the +learned and intelligent, and her drawing-rooms to be +filled with the <i>beaux esprits</i> of Paris.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_92' name='page_92'></a>92</span></div> +<p>Her only daughter, Anne Louisa Germaine, born in +1766, became her next object of solicitude. She +wished that her education should be perfect; she +wished her to know every thing, and thought that her +mind could not be stored with too many words and +facts; she introduced her, even in infancy, to the brilliant +circle of her own friends, and learned men were +almost her only companions. It was therefore with a +transport of delight that the child received, at the age +of eleven, a young girl, whom her mother wished her +to make her companion, and who afterwards described +her thus: “She spoke with a warmth and facility +which were already eloquent, and which made a great +impression on me. We did not play like children. +She at once asked me what my lessons were, if I knew +any foreign languages, and if I went often to the play. +When I said, I had only been three or four times, she +exclaimed, and promised that we should often go together, +and, when we came home, write down an account +of the piece. It was her habit, she said; and, +in short, we were to write to each other every day. +We entered the drawing-room. Near the arm-chair +of Madame Necker was the stool of her daughter, +who was obliged to sit very upright. As soon as she +had taken her accustomed place, three or four old +gentlemen came up, and spoke to her with the utmost +kindness. One of them, in a little round wig, took her +hands in his, held them a long time, and entered into +conversation with her, as if she had been twenty. This +was the Abbé Raynal; the others were Messrs. Marmontel, +Thomas, the Marquis de Pesay, and Baron de +Grimm. We sat down at table. It was a picture to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_93' name='page_93'></a>93</span> +see how Mademoiselle Necker listened. She did not +speak herself; but so animated was her face, that she +appeared to converse with all. Her eyes followed the +looks and movements of those who talked; it seemed +as if she grasped their ideas before they were expressed. +She entered into every subject, even politics, +which at this epoch was one of the most engrossing +topics. After dinner, a good deal of company arrived. +Each guest, as he approached Madame Necker, addressed +her daughter with some compliment or pleasantry; +she replied to all with ease and grace. They +delighted to attack and embarrass her, and to excite +her childish imagination, which was already brilliant. +The cleverest men were those who took the greatest +pleasure in making her talk.” When she was not in +society, she was kept constantly at her books. She +wrote a great deal, and her writings were read in public +and applauded. This system of education had its +natural results. Praise, and reputation, and success in +society, became as necessary to her as her daily food: +her understanding, brilliant, but not profound, gathered +knowledge by cursory reading and from conversation—not +by hard study; hence it was superficial.</p> +<p>Her physical strength could not endure this constant +straining and excitement of the mind. At fourteen, +her physicians ordered that she should be removed to +the country, and should give up all study. Madame +Necker was deeply disappointed: unable to carry her +system of education to the fullest extent, she abandoned +it altogether; henceforth she took little interest +in the talents of her daughter, and, when she heard her +praised, would say, “O, it is nothing, absolutely nothing, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_94' name='page_94'></a>94</span> +in comparison to what I intended to make her.” This +carelessness on the part of her mother, developed in +the young girl an ardent affection for her father, +which she dwells upon in her writings with so much +fervor. There existed between them the most unreserved +and open communication of thought. He delighted +in her talents, which she exerted for his entertainment, +and to amuse his hours of leisure. Her +superior success in this last particular even excited +the jealousy of her mother, who sought by reproof to +check the outpouring of her wit and imagination. +Mademoiselle listened with respect to the reproof, but +took the first opportunity to escape from her mother’s +side, and shelter herself behind her father’s chair, +where she soon collected the cleverest men in the room +to listen to her sallies, and to be charmed by her +eloquence.</p> +<p>As has already been said, her career of authorship +began at a very early age. When a little older, she +composed tales and plays, which were received with +rapturous applause by the company to which, in accordance +with French custom, they were read; but +which in print appear flat enough. At the age of +fifteen, she made her appearance before the great +public as the author of an anonymous political +pamphlet in defence of an act of her father’s, which +had excited a great clamor on the part of the ultra-royalists, +and was the cause of his resignation of office.</p> +<p>The position which her father held in France, during +her early years, exercised a very important influence +on the character and feelings of Mademoiselle Necker. +Despised as a plebeian and detested as a reformer by +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_95' name='page_95'></a>95</span> +the queen and the court, he was regarded, by the +moderate of all parties, as the only man who could +save France, and was worshipped as an idol by the +people at large. No sooner was it known that he had +resigned, than “all France,” as she says,—that is, +all who were eminent for wealth, for talent, or for +rank, excepting the few attached to the court,—came +to visit him, and to express to him their regrets, +their fears, and the hope that he would soon return to +office. She heard that consternation pervaded Paris; +all fearing ruin for that country which Necker had +abandoned. It is not surprising that she should conceive +for him a passionate admiration; should regard +him as superior to all in modern times, and as answering +the <i>beau ideal</i> of Grecian or of Roman patriotism. +Nor is it wonderful that his persecution by the court +should have excited feelings of resentment and disgust +towards a form of government under which such +things could take place.</p> +<p>Necker remained a short time in France, and then +returned to Coppet, an estate which he purchased on +the banks of the Lake of Geneva, from whence he +watched the course of events, feeling certain that he +should at last be recalled to the helm. An occasional +visit to Paris, or the publication of a political pamphlet, +served to keep him in the public remembrance.</p> +<p>At the age of twenty-two; Mademoiselle Necker was +married. To her, marriage was merely a convenience. +It was necessary to give her a position in society—admittance +at court. She did not look for a lover, not +even for a friend or companion, in her husband. He +must be of noble birth, and a Protestant. The Baron +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_96' name='page_96'></a>96</span> +de Stael, the Swedish ambassador, had both these +requisites; he was, moreover, an amiable and honorable +man. He had received positive assurances from +his sovereign, that he should be continued for many +years at the court of France, and she, having made a +distinct contract that she should never be obliged to go +to Sweden, except with her own consent, accepted his +proposals of marriage.</p> +<p>We have a portrait of her as she appeared at this +period, written in a style then much in fashion: +“Zalma advances; her large dark eyes sparkle with +genius; her hair, black as ebony, falls on her shoulders +in waving ringlets; her features are more marked +than delicate, yet they express something superior to +her sex. ‘There she is!’ every one cried, when she +appeared, and all became breathless. When she +sang, she extemporized the words of her song; the +celestial brightness of composition animated her face, +and held the audience in serious attention; at once +astonished and delighted, we know not which most to +admire, her facility or perfection. When her music +ceased, she talked of the great truths of nature, the +immortality of the soul, the love of liberty, of the +fascination and danger of the passions: her features +meanwhile have an expression superior to beauty; her +physiognomy is full of play and variety; the accents +of her voice have a thousand modulations; and there is +perfect harmony between her thoughts and their expression. +Without hearing her words, the inflection +of her tones, her gestures, her look, cause her meaning +to be understood. When she ceased, a murmur +of approbation ran round the room; she looked down +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_97' name='page_97'></a>97</span> +modestly; her long eyelashes covered her flashing +eyes, and the sun was clouded over.”</p> +<p>Meantime affairs in France were rapidly approaching +to a crisis. Minister succeeded minister, but each +left the ship more inextricably involved than his predecessor. +The failure of the crops, and consequent +distress of the poorer classes, increased the turbulence +of the people and the distress of the court. At length, +in 1788, seven years after his resignation, the queen +and the court were compelled to confess that the only +hope of safety was in recalling Necker, and to join in +the general solicitation that he would take the helm.</p> +<p>His name revived the public credit; the pressing +wants of the treasury were supplied; by importing +grain, he removed the fears of famine. His position +at this period was one to gratify his highest ambition; +his return had been a triumph over the court; and the +people were eager to prostrate themselves at his feet. +But his talents were those of the financier only; as a +statesman, he was sadly wanting. The example of +the Americans had excited in the minds of a portion +of the nobility an indefinable and romantic longing +for something called <i>liberty</i>; the middle classes, who +possessed the most intelligence, education, and wealth, +were indignant at being excluded from most places of +honor, and at being obliged to bear the whole burden +of the taxes, from which the nobles and the clergy +were exempt; the great body of the people, who were +in the condition of slaves, had the wrongs and outrages +of many centuries of oppression to avenge: all +these classes, though agreeing in nothing else, were +united in demanding a change. On the other side, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_98' name='page_98'></a>98</span> +the queen, supported by her royal brothers-in-law and +a portion of the nobles, resolutely set themselves +against any innovations.</p> +<p>Necker did not agree entirely with either party; he +was in favor of a limited monarchy; the British constitution +appeared to him, as it did to his daughter, +the perfection of government. But he had not the +decision and energy requisite for insuring the success +of his own opinions. The well-disposed but weak +monarch yielded to the more daring counsels of the +court, and prepared to crush at once their opponents +by force. But these measures were concerted without +the knowledge of Necker, and before they could be +executed, he must quietly be got rid of. Accordingly, +on the 11th of July, 1789, as he was about to sit down +to dinner, he received an order to quit France within +four and twenty hours, and without exciting observation. +Necker obeyed to the very letter. He and his +wife, without changing their dress, stepped into the +carriage, as if to take the usual evening airing, and +travelled night and day till they reached Brussels.</p> +<p>Madame de Stael was informed of this event on the +morning of the 12th, and on the 15th, having been +advised of their route, she set off to join her parents. +“When I reached them,” says she, “three days after, +they still wore the full dress which they had on, when, +after a large dinner party, and while no one suspected +the agitating position in which they were placed, they +silently quitted France, their friends, their home, and +the power which they enjoyed. This dress, covered +with dust, the name assumed by my father for the +sake of avoiding recognition in France, and so detention +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_99' name='page_99'></a>99</span> +through the favor in which he was still held,—all +these filled me with feelings of reverence, that +caused me to throw myself at his feet, as I entered +the room of the inn where I found him.”</p> +<p>While thus exhibiting his respect for the king, +Necker, by another act, displayed his love for the +people. To purchase a supply of corn for the starving +population of Paris, Necker had negotiated a loan +of two millions of livres, for which his own personal +security was to be given. The transaction was not +completed at the period of his exile, and, lest this +should occasion any delay, he wrote at once to confirm +his guaranty.</p> +<p>No sooner was Necker’s dismissal known, than Paris +rose in insurrection. An army of one hundred thousand +men was arrayed in a night; on the 14th of July, +the Bastile was destroyed, and the king was forced to +attend in person at the Hotel de Ville, and to express +his approbation of the acts of the revolutionists. A +courier, bearing an order of recall, overtook Necker at +Frankfort. He hesitated, but at last determined to +comply. “What a moment of happiness,” says +Madame de Stael, “was our journey to Paris! I do +not think that the like ever happened to any man who +was not sovereign of the country. * * * The liveliest +acclamations accompanied every step; the +women threw themselves on their knees afar off in +the fields when they saw his carriage pass; the first +citizens of the different places acted as postilions; +and, in the towns, the inhabitants took off the horses +to drag the carriage themselves. It was I that enjoyed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_100' name='page_100'></a>100</span> +for him; I was carried away by delight, and +must not feel ungrateful for those happy days, however +sad were the ones that followed.” “O, nothing +can equal the emotion that a woman feels when she +has the happiness of hearing the name of one beloved +repeated by a whole people. All those faces, which +appear for the time animated by the same sentiment +as one’s self; those innumerable voices, which echo +to the heart the name that rises in the air, and which +appear to return from heaven after having received +the homage of earth; the inconceivable electricity +which men communicate to each other when they +share the same emotions; all those mysteries of nature +and social feeling are added to the greatest mystery +of all—love—filial or maternal—but still love; and +the soul sinks under emotions stronger than itself. +When I came to myself, I felt that I had reached the +extreme boundary of happiness.”</p> +<p>The triumph was of short duration: striving to act +a middle part, Necker incurred the distrust of both +parties. His want of capacity, also, to rule the tempest, +was most evident; his propositions were weak +and inconsistent; but his daughter saw not this: the +loss of the confidence of the king and of the favor of +the people, was attributed by her to their ingratitude +and perversity; in her eyes, her father was still the +greatest of men. His resignation and departure from +France was to her a subject of mortification, however. +As he passed on his way to Switzerland, the same +people who, the year before, had swelled the acclamations +of triumph and joy, now met him with reproaches +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_101' name='page_101'></a>101</span> +and revilings. At one place he was detained as a +prisoner, and only released in pursuance of a decree +of the National Assembly.</p> +<p>His daughter remained at Paris. Although excluded +theoretically from the exercise of any political power, +there is no country where the women take so active a +part in politics as in France. Madame de Stael was +not a woman to forego the exercise of rights which +custom had given her sex: accordingly we find her +deeply involved in all the political intrigues of the +day, and her drawing-room the scene of the most important +political discussions.</p> +<p>During the dreadful days of August, 1792, she +exerted herself to the utmost to save the lives of her +friends; fearlessly traversing the streets filled with the +lowest wretches of both sexes; visiting the victims in +the obscure houses in which they were concealed, and +taking them into her own house, which, from the protection +which the law of nations throws over an ambassador, +she trusted would be to them a sanctuary. +But those now in power heeded little the law of nations: +the police demanded to search her house; +she met them at the door, talked to them of the rights +of ambassadors, and of the vengeance which Sweden +would take if they persisted in their demand; she +rallied them upon their want of courtesy, and finally, +by argument and gayety, induced them to abandon +their intention.</p> +<p>Although it was apparent that her personal safety +was endangered, she could not bear to leave Paris, the +theatre in which so exciting a drama was being acted. +With her passports ready, she yet lingered until the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_102' name='page_102'></a>102</span> +2d of September, when the news of the advance of +the foreign troops into France excited the Parisians to +madness, and led to the commission of those horrible excesses +which have left an indelible stain on the French +name. She then set out for Switzerland; but even now +her love of effect and of display was exhibited. She +left her house in a coach drawn by six horses, with the +servants in full livery, trusting for safety to her title as +wife of an ambassador. But she had hardly left her +own door, when the carriage was surrounded by a +host of furious women, who compelled the postilions +to drive to the office of the section of the city to which +she belonged, from whence she was ordered to the +Hotel de Ville. This was at the opposite side of the +city, and she was three hours in making her way +thither through crowds of ferocious wretches thirsting +for her blood. She was detained at the Hotel de +Ville during the remainder of the day, and in the +evening was conducted by Manuel to his own house. +On the next day, she was suffered to leave the city +attended by her maid alone, and accompanied by a +gendarme.</p> +<p>At Coppet she found personal safety; but not even +the society of her father could render its quiet agreeable +to her. Her activity found some exercise for +itself in affording protection to those who were so +fortunate as to escape from the fangs of the Revolutionary +Tribunal. She also wrote an eloquent appeal +in behalf of the queen, and “Reflections on the Peace,” +which was quoted by Fox, as full of sound political +views and just argument.</p> +<p>No sooner had the fall of Robespierre rendered +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_103' name='page_103'></a>103</span> +Paris a comparatively safe place of residence, than +she hastened thither, eager to bear a part in the busy +scenes which were taking place. Her return formed +an epoch in society; it was the signal of the revival +of refinement. She became the centre of a brilliant +circle, composed of the most distinguished foreigners, +and of the most eminent men of France. In the society +of women she took no pleasure; she loved to be surrounded +by those who could appreciate her talents, and +could discuss those questions which are foreign to the +general tastes of women. But it could hardly be +called discussion: her own opinions were delivered +like oracles, and if she ever asked a question, it was +in such an indeterminate way that no one felt called +upon to reply. In this connection one little peculiarity +may be mentioned: in public she always held in her +hand, which, by the by, was well-formed, some plaything, +which she twirled between her fingers; in +summer, it was a twig of poplar with two or three +leaves at the end; in winter, it was a rolled paper; and +it was usual, on her entrance at a party, to present a +number of these, from which she made a selection.</p> +<p>The influence which she had acquired excited the +alarm of the revolutionists; she was denounced in the +Convention and attacked in the newspapers. But this +moved her not, so long as by her eloquence she could +make converts to her own opinions—opinions adopted +hastily, and without reflection, which were, therefore, +often changing, and frequently contradictory.</p> +<p>At length Bonaparte appeared upon the stage; and +at their first interview, Madame de Stael felt that he +was a man not to be dazzled or won. He had just +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_104' name='page_104'></a>104</span> +returned from the conquest of Italy. She thus speaks +of the impression he made on her: “I could not reply +to him, when he told me that he had visited Coppet, +and felt much regret at passing through Switzerland +without seeing my father. To a feeling of admiration +succeeded one of fear—a feeling that was experienced +by all who approached him, and which resulted solely +from his personal attributes; for at this time he held no +political power, but had himself fallen under the suspicions +of the Directory. I soon learned that his character +was not to be defined by the words in ordinary +use; that he was neither gentle nor violent, mild nor +cruel, according to the fashion of other men. The +feeling of fear was only increased by subsequent intercourse +with him. I had a confused feeling that no +emotion of the heart ever influenced him.”</p> +<p>In all that Madame de Stael says of Napoleon, there +is an evident feeling of pique, and of mortified vanity. +Hitherto triumphant in society, she now met with one +upon whom all her powers were tried in vain. An +opportunity of testing this occurred at an early period. +Bonaparte proposed to the Directory the invasion of +Switzerland; upon which she sought a conference with +him, in the hope of turning him from his purpose. He +viewed the interference as impertinent, and the matter +entirely out of a woman’s province: from deference to +her reputation, however, he entered into a discussion +of the matter, and, having said as much as he thought +ought to convince her, turned the conversation to other +subjects, much to Madame de Stael’s mortification, who +could not bear to be treated like a mere woman.</p> +<p>When Bonaparte became first consul, Madame de +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_105' name='page_105'></a>105</span> +Stael did not hesitate to express openly her dissatisfaction +at his rising power. Joseph Bonaparte, of whom +she was fond, remonstrated with her. “My brother,” +said he, “complains of you. ‘Why,’ said he, yesterday, +‘does not Madame de Stael attach herself to my +government? What does she want? The payment +of the money due her father? She shall have it. To +remain in Paris? I will permit it. In short, what +does she want?’” “The question is not what I +want,” replied Madame de Stael, “but what I think.”</p> +<p>There was one thing which operated as a check on +her, and that was, the fear of being obliged to leave +Paris. The possibility of such a catastrophe filled her +with wretchedness. Away from the society and the +excitements of that capital, she was the victim of +<i>ennui</i>: her own brilliant powers of mind furnished her +with no protection; she had no internal resources for +happiness. Hear her own confession: “In this point +was I vulnerable. The phantom of <i>ennui</i> forever +pursues me; fear of it would have made me bow +before tyranny, if the example of my father, and the +blood which flowed in my veins, had not raised me +above such weakness.”</p> +<p>The “dispensation of <i>ennui</i>” she viewed as the +most terrible exercise of Bonaparte’s power. But even +her fear of it would not control the ruling passion: she +continued to discourse on politics, though to a constantly +diminishing audience, and to excite those with +whom she possessed influence to oppose the measures +of government, until the forbearance of that government +was exhausted, and she received advice from the +minister of police to retire for a short time into the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_106' name='page_106'></a>106</span> +country. This she terms the commencement of a series +of persecutions by Bonaparte—a reproach which +is not deserved; for it could not be expected that any +government, much less one whose power was not yet +established, would submit to a constant opposition, +which exhibited itself not only in epigrams, always a +most powerful weapon in France, but, as she herself +confesses, in direct political intrigues; the interference, +too, being by one who had small claims to be called a +Frenchwoman. She was the daughter of a Swiss, and +the wife of a Swede, of which latter character she +more than once made use to secure her own personal +safety and that of her friends. What course +could the government have adopted of a milder character? +There was no personal violence, nor threat of +any: she was banished from the theatre of her hostile +influence, and forbidden to circulate her works +there.</p> +<p>Not long after the banishment of Madame de Stael +from Paris, Bonaparte passed through Switzerland, on +his way to Italy. Having expressed a wish to see +Necker, the latter waited on him. After a two hours’ +conversation, the aged minister left Napoleon, fascinated, +like all who approached him, by his powers of pleasing, +and gratified, as well by this mark of respect, as by +the permission which he obtained for his daughter to +reside at Paris.</p> +<p>The publication of her work on “Literature” restored +Madame de Stael to popularity. Her <i>salons</i> +were again crowded, but chiefly with foreigners, for +she still remained upon bad terms with the first consul. +“She pretends,” said he, “to speak neither of politics +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_107' name='page_107'></a>107</span> +nor of me; yet it happens that every one leaves her +house less attached to me than when they went in. +She gives them fanciful notions, and of the opposite +kind to mine.” Wounded vanity had no doubt a large +share in producing her state of feeling. Upon him, +as we have before seen, all her powers of fascination +were exerted in vain. Indeed, he seems, in his treatment +of her, to have been wanting in his usual tact. +She was one day asked to dine in company with him. +As she had heard that he sometimes spoke sarcastically +of her, she thought he might perhaps address to +her some of these speeches, which were the terror of +the courtiers. She prepared herself, therefore, with +various repartees. But Bonaparte hardly appeared +conscious of her presence, and her consolation for +the neglect was the conjecture that fear had been the +cause of his forbearance.</p> +<p>The early attempts of Madame de Stael in novel-writing +gave no promise of superiority in that department +of literature. Four tales, published in 1795, were +as weak in plan and in execution as they were deficient +in moral taste. It is a sad illustration of the state of +moral feeling in the community, that a mind, naturally +so well-intentioned and powerful, could be so debased, +especially of one who had, at all times, a deep sense of +religion, and who had been educated in the strict principles +of Calvin. “Delphine,” which appeared in +1802, is marked by the same faults of a moral character, +and its tendency was so marked, as to incur +the censure even of French critics, “who dared,” as +Madame de Stael indignantly exclaims, “to blame a +book approved by Necker.” That the censure was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_108' name='page_108'></a>108</span> +merited, no right-minded person can deny. The defence +which Madame de Stael felt called upon to put +forth is weak, inconclusive, and abounding in sophistries. +The misfortunes of the heroine are, indeed, +the consequences of her actions, but these results are +made to appear her misfortune, and not her fault. Fascinated +by the eloquence of the author, our hearts are +enlisted on the side of the sufferer, whatever may be +the decision of our judgment.</p> +<p>Though deficient in some of the requisites for a novelist, +especially in dramatic talent, Madame de Stael +was eminently endowed with one essential faculty—that +of delineating character. In Delphine, it was said +the character of the author herself was exhibited, and +that Madame de Vernon, in whom we have a perfect +picture of social Machiavelism, was drawn from Talleyrand. +“I am told,” said he to her, “that you have put +us both in your novel in the character of women.” +Even if this had been the occasion of offence to the +wily courtier, he was too sagacious to disclose it.</p> +<p>Madame de Stael was at Coppet, passing the summer, +when her father published a work called “Last +View of Politics and Finance.” In this he points out the +progress which Bonaparte was making towards despotic +power. Irritated at this attack, the first consul forbade +the return of the daughter to Paris, from whence +she had conveyed such false impressions to her father.</p> +<p>But, much as she loved her father, she could not +content herself away from Paris. Genevese society +contrasted sadly, in her estimation, with the brilliant +circle of her Parisian friends. Hoping, amidst the excitements +which attend the commencement of a war, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_109' name='page_109'></a>109</span> +to be overlooked, she ventured, after the rupture of the +peace of Amiens, to establish herself at the distance +of thirty miles from her beloved capital. The first +consul was informed that the road to her residence was +crowded with her visitants. She heard that she was to +receive an order to depart, and she sought to evade it +by wandering from the house of one friend to that of +another. It was at length received, and the intercession +of Joseph Bonaparte, and other friends of the first consul, +was of no avail.</p> +<p>Loath to appear in disgrace among the Genevese, +and hoping, amid new scenes, to forget her griefs, +she resolved to visit Germany. “Every step of the +horses,” she tells us, as she left Paris, “was a pang; +and, when the postilions boasted that they had driven +fast, I could not help smiling at the sad service they +did me.”</p> +<p>The enjoyment which she derived from the attention +and kindness with which she was every where +received, and from the vast field of knowledge which +opened itself to her, was interrupted by the sad news +of the illness of her father, followed quickly by intelligence +of his death. She at once set off for Coppet. +Her feelings, during the melancholy journey, are beautifully +and naturally recorded in the “Ten Years of +Exile.” This work, which was not published until +after her death, is the most interesting of her writings, +and the best as it respects style. It was commenced +at Coppet, and feigned names and false dates were +substituted for the real, for the purpose of misleading +the government, whose perfect system of <i>espionage</i> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_110' name='page_110'></a>110</span> +would otherwise have rendered fruitless her most +careful endeavors at concealment.</p> +<p>Her fears for the consequences of a discovery were +natural; for she expresses most freely her opinions of +the character and conduct of the great ruler of France, +which take their coloring from her feelings, highly excited +by the persecution of which she conceived herself +to be the victim. Here are also recorded her observations +on the various countries which this persecution +compelled her to visit. But the work is far more +valuable and interesting from the traits which it unconsciously +discloses of the character of the author herself; +and any diminution of our preconceived ideas of +the absolute dignity of her nature, is more than compensated +by the abundant proofs of the kindness and +honesty of her disposition.</p> +<p>Her first occupation, after the death of her father, +was to publish his writings, accompanied by a biographical +memoir. Her passion for him took a new +turn. Every old man recalled his image; and she +watched over their comforts, and wept over their +sufferings. It mingled with her devotions. She believed +that her soul communed with his in prayer, and +that it was to his intercession that she owed all the +good that befell her. Whenever she met with any +piece of good fortune, she would say, “It is my father +who has obtained this for me.”</p> +<p>In happier days, this passion sometimes was the +occasion of scenes not a little amusing to the bystanders. +Her cousin and biographer, Madame de Necker +Saussure relates the following anecdote: She had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_111' name='page_111'></a>111</span> +come to Coppet from Geneva in Necker’s carriage, +and had been overturned on the way, but received no +injury. On relating the incident to Madame de Stael, +she inquired, with great vehemence, who had driven; +and, on being told that it was Richel, her father’s +coachman, she exclaimed, in an agony, “Mon Dieu! +he may one day overturn my father!” and ordered him +into her presence. While waiting his coming, she +paced the room, crying out, “My father, my poor +father, <i>he</i> might have been overturned;” and, turning +to her cousin, “At your age, and with your slight +person, the danger is nothing; but with his bulk and +age—I cannot bear to think of it!” The coachman +now came in; and the lady, usually so mild and indulgent +with her servants, in a sort of frenzy, and in +a voice of solemnity, but choked with emotion, said, +“Richel, do you know that I am a woman of genius?” +The poor man stared at her in astonishment, and +she went on, yet louder, “Have you not heard, I say, +that I am a woman of genius?” The man was still +mute. “Well, then, I tell you that I <i>am</i> a woman of +genius—of great genius—of prodigious genius! and +I tell you more—that all the genius I have shall be +exerted to secure your rotting out your days in a dungeon, +if ever you overturn my father!”</p> +<p>To recruit her health, which was wasting with grief, +she next undertook a journey into Italy. Hitherto +she had appeared totally insensible to the beauties of +nature, and when her guests at Coppet were in ecstasies +with the Lake of Geneva, and the enchanting +scenery about it, she would exclaim, “Give me a +garret in Paris, with a hundred Louis a year.” But +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_112' name='page_112'></a>112</span> +in Italy she seems to have had a glimpse of the glories +of the universe, for which enjoyment she always said +she was indebted to her father’s intercession.</p> +<p>The delights which she experienced in that enchanting +country are imbodied in the novel of “Corinne.” +Her representation of its society evinces a want of intimate +acquaintance with it, but it is a lively and true +picture of the surface. In this work her peculiar talent +as a novelist is richly displayed. In the characters of +Comte d’Erfeuil, Corinne, and Oswald, we have not +only examples of the most true and delicate discrimination, +but vivid portraits of individuals, in whom +are imbodied the most pleasing peculiarities of their +respective nations. A purer morality displays itself +in Corinne; the result, rather than the object, of the +book. She does not seek, by logical demonstration, to +enforce a moral axiom, but the influence of the spirit +which emanates from the whole is purifying and elevating.</p> +<p>Madame de Stael was forbidden to approach within +forty leagues of Paris; but, after hovering about the +confines of the magical circle, she at last established +herself within it, at a distance of only twelve leagues +from the city. So long as she was contented to remain +in obscurity, in the society of a small circle of friends, +and to maintain a strict silence on the subject of politics, +her violation of the imperial mandate was overlooked. +But the publication of Corinne put an end to +the indulgence, and she was ordered to quit France.</p> +<p>The tedium of her life at Coppet was somewhat +relieved by the visits of her friends, and of distinguished +foreigners. She was occupied, too, by her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_113' name='page_113'></a>113</span> +work on Germany, which was completed in 1810. +To superintend its publication, she took up her abode +at the permitted distance from Paris, at the old chateau +of Chaumont-sur-Loire, already notable as the residence +of Diane de Poitiers, Catherine de Medicis, and +Nostradamus.</p> +<p>She submitted her book to the censor, and expunged +such passages as were objected to. She now deemed +herself safe in publishing it. Ten thousand copies +were already printed, when an order was issued by +Savary, minister of police, for the suppression of the +work. The impressions were seized, and, the ink +being obliterated by a chemical process, the paper +was returned to the publisher. The manuscript was +demanded, and the author ordered to quit France in +twenty-four hours; but, upon her remonstrance, the +time was extended to eight days. “Your exile,” +says Savary, “is the natural consequence of the +course of conduct you have constantly pursued for +many years. It is evident that the air of France does +not agree with you.” The true reasons for the suppression +of her work were not assigned, but were +turned off with the remark that “It is not French; +and that the French are not yet reduced to seek for +models in the countries which she admired.”</p> +<p>In 1810, M. de Rocca, a French officer, who was +yet suffering from dangerous wounds, received in +Spain, arrived at Geneva. His personal condition +and his reputation for brilliant courage heightened +the interest excited by his youth and noble physiognomy. +He first saw Madame de Stael at a public +assembly. She entered the ball-room, dressed in a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_114' name='page_114'></a>114</span> +costly but unbecoming style, and followed by a train +of admirers. “Is this the far-famed woman?” said +Rocca; “she is very ugly, and I detest such straining +for effect.” A few words of sympathy, set off by the +music of her voice, effected a complete revolution in +his feelings. Wishes and hopes apparently the most +extravagant took possession of his heart—for she +was now a widow. “I will love her so much that +she will marry me,” said he, and his words were soon +fulfilled; but the event was carefully concealed until +the death of Madame de Stael; for she was peculiarly +sensitive to public opinion, and refused to acknowledge +a marriage which might have excited ridicule—so +great was the disparity of age and of condition between +the parties. She was unwilling likewise to +change her name. “Mon nom est a l’Europe,” said +she to M. Rocca, when, on a subsequent occasion, he +jestingly asked her to marry him.</p> +<p>For this marriage, as well as for her former one, +Madame de Stael has been severely censured. Many +apologies, if any be really necessary, may be found +for her. Since the death of her father, she had felt, +more than before, the want of an essential accessory +to her happiness. Speaking of the asylum which she +hoped to find in England, she said, “I feel the want +of love, of cherishing, of some one to lean upon; if I +can find in that country a man possessing real nobleness +of character, I will gladly yield up my liberty.” +Heartbroken and disappointed, both as a woman and +an author, she had returned to Coppet, to find her +residence there more irksome and unhappy than ever. +She was advised not to go farther than ten leagues +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_115' name='page_115'></a>115</span> +from home; and fear lest she should involve her +friends, induced her to forbid their coming to her. +Her fears were not altogether without reason. Regardless +of the advice she had received, she made the +tour of Switzerland with M. de Montmorency, and the +consequence to him was exile from France. Another +friend, the beautiful and celebrated Madame de Recamier, +paid for a few hours’ intercourse by exile to +Lyons.</p> +<p>Imagination conjured up new terrors. The fear of +imprisonment seized her, and she resolved to escape. +The choice of a route perplexed her. She passed her +life, she says, in studying the map of Europe, to find +how she could escape beyond the wide-spread poison-tree +of Napoleon’s power. She at length departed. +England was the point of destination.</p> +<p>Passing through Germany, she was received at St. +Petersburg with great distinction by the emperor, and, +thence passing on her way, spent eight months at +Stockholm with her old friend Bernadotte, crown +prince of Sweden; with whom at Paris, in the early +days of Bonaparte’s career, she had been discovered +concerting measures to stop his progress towards absolute +power—a discovery which furnished an apology +for the treatment she received.</p> +<p>The “Ten Years of Exile,” which, after an intermission +of several years, had been resumed, closes at +Stockholm. In England, she met with a most cordial +reception. Fashionable society courted her as a <i>lion</i>; +the more intelligent and highly educated sought her for +her genius.</p> +<p>Her work on Germany was published in London, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_116' name='page_116'></a>116</span> +raised her reputation as a critic to the highest point. +She was among the founders of the philosophical +school of critics; who, not wasting their attention on +the conventional forms of composition, look to the intrinsic +qualities which constitute literary excellence. +But she was not sufficiently dispassionate always to +form a correct judgment. Her enthusiasm and susceptibility +made her too indulgent. As she would +often be thrown into ecstasies by a wretched hand-organ +in the street, so she would be in raptures with +verses, the melody of which pleased her ear. She +would repeat them with great pomp and emphasis, +and say, “That is what I call poetry! it is delicious! +and all the more that it does not convey a single idea +to me.”</p> +<p>“Germany” was a gift of the greatest price to +France. Her standards in literature had been fixed +a century before, and to alter or advance them was +deemed a work of impiety. A natural result was a +want of vigor and of originality. She had imposed +her fetters, too, on foreign nations. The cold, artificial +spirit of the age of Louis XIV. long pressed, like an +incubus, upon the literary spirit of Germany. But +about the middle of the last century, the spell was +broken. A literary revolution took place in that country, +and, from being destitute of all national literature, +Germany became possessed of one the most characteristic. +To furnish a literary and mental portraiture +of this emancipated nation, was a work requiring a +rare combination of talents, and one which was executed +by Madame de Stael with singular ability.</p> +<p>She hailed with delight the overthrow of Napoleon, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_117' name='page_117'></a>117</span> +which opened to her the way to Paris. But she never +joined in the senseless cry which was raised, that he had +neither talents nor courage. “It would be too humiliating +for France, and for all Europe,” she said, “that, +for fifteen years, it had been beaten and outwitted by a +coward and a blockhead.” Her joy was, however, +tempered by grief and indignation, that the soil of +France, “cette belle France,” should be desecrated +by the feet of foreign invaders. To avoid witnessing +the humiliating spectacle of Paris in the possession +of barbarians, she retired to Coppet, where, +in 1816, she renewed her acquaintance with Lord +Byron, whose genius fascinated her, and who had been +chief favorite while she was in England. She now +gave him much advice as to his conduct, which he +met by quoting the motto to “Delphine,”—“Man +must learn to brave opinion,—woman to submit to it.” +But she no longer defended the truth of this epigraph. +Always religious, the principles of Christianity now +mingled more intimately in her sentiments.</p> +<p>Time, too, had wrought a change in her character: +she was much softened, and appreciated more justly +the real blessings and misfortunes of life. In her own +family she found sources of happiness. Her children +were dutiful and affectionate, and the marriage of her +daughter to the Duke de Broglie gave her pleasure. +Her chief cause of disquietude was the ill health of her +husband, in anticipation of whose death she composed a +book, with the title, “The only Misfortune of Life, the +Loss of a Person beloved.” But she was not destined to +be the sufferer now. She had ever despised the accommodation +of the body, and gave herself no trouble about +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_118' name='page_118'></a>118</span> +health. She affected to triumph over infirmity, and +was wont to say, “I might have been sickly, like any +body else, had I not resolved to vanquish physical +weakness.” But nature was not to be thus defied. +Her health failed, and the use of opium aided the +progress of disease. But sickness threw no cloud over +her intellect; “I am now,” she said, “what I have ever +been—sad, yet vivacious;” but it displayed the moral +beauties of her character in a more striking light. She +was kind, patient, and devout. Her sleepless nights +were spent in prayer. Existence no longer appeared +to her in its gayest colors. “Life,” she said, “resembles +Gobelin tapestry; you do not see the canvass on the +right side; but when you turn it, the threads are visible. +The mystery of existence is the connection between +our faults and our misfortunes. I never committed an +error that was not the cause of a disaster.” Yet she +left life with regret, though death possessed for her no +terrors. “I shall meet my father on the other side,” +she said, “and my daughter will ere long rejoin me.” +“I think,” said she, one day, as if waking from a +dream, “I think I know what the passage from life to +death is; and I am convinced that the goodness of +God makes it easy; our thoughts become confused, +and the pain is not great.” She died with the utmost +composure, at Paris, July, 1817.</p> +<p>Her husband survived her but a few months. +“Grief put a period to his already precarious existence. +He withdrew from Paris, to die beneath the +beautiful sky of Provence, and there breathed his last +sighs in the arms of his brother.”</p> +<p>The chief works of Madame de Stael, and her +peculiarities as an author, have already been spoken +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_119' name='page_119'></a>119</span> +of. One work, published after her death, and the +most powerful of all, remains to be mentioned. In the +“Considerations on the French Revolution,” she sought +to blend the memoir with the philosophical history. +The faults are what might have been expected. The +details, too minute for the one, are too scanty for the +other. In the selection of these she was biased by +her personal feelings, but to a degree far less than was +to be anticipated. Her feelings were warm and excitable; +she had lived in the midst of the events of which +she speaks; she had herself been an actor, and her +father had borne a conspicuous part, in them; indeed, +one grand purpose of the work is to exculpate him. That +she should, under these disqualifying circumstances, +have produced a work so temperate, and on the whole +so impartial—one that exhibits such philosophical depth +and comprehensiveness of vision—excites in us wonder +and admiration. But it is not as a history that the +work is interesting and valuable. It is that it exhibits +to us the impressions made by the great events of +which she speaks, and the scenes which she witnessed, +upon a powerful and original mind. It abounds with +profound reflections and brilliant remarks. The style, +eloquent and impassioned, is in a high degree conversational, +and, as we read it, we almost expect to hear +the sound of the voice. The remarkable talent for discrimination +and delineation of character, which distinguish +her as a novelist, lead us to regret that it did not +come within the design of the work to furnish us with +historical portraitures of the distinguished personages of +the period. The few which she has given us, increase +our regret, and mark her as a mistress in the art.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_121' name='page_121'></a>121</span> +<a name='LADY_HESTER_STANHOPE' id='LADY_HESTER_STANHOPE'></a> +<h2>LADY HESTER STANHOPE.</h2> +</div> +<p>The third Earl of Stanhope, father of the subject of +our present sketch, possessed abilities which qualified +him for any station; yet he devoted his ample fortune, +his time, and his thoughts, to mechanics and to experiments +in science and philosophy; with what success, +the Stanhope printing press, many improvements in +the process of stereotype printing, and his various +papers on the electric fluid, are evidence. He married +a daughter of the great Earl of Chatham; and of this +marriage, Lady Hester Stanhope was the earliest +fruit. She was born in 1776.</p> +<div class='figcenter'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_5' id='linki_5'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/illo-120.png' alt='' title='' width='384' height='550' /> +<br /> +<p class='caption'> +LADY HESTER STANHOPE.<br /> +</p> +</div> +<p>Genius was the only inheritance she received from +her father. Upon the death of her mother, which happened +when she was young, she was received into the +house of her uncle, William Pitt, the younger, and was +there brought up. Between this minister and his +brother-in-law there was little sympathy of opinion. +Stanhope was an enthusiast for the improvement of +social institutions, and hailed the French revolution +as the beginning of the change which he hoped for. +So confident was he in those views, as to urge upon +his children the necessity of qualifying themselves to +earn a living by some honest calling. He could not +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_122' name='page_122'></a>122</span> +approve the measures which the minister now adopted; +and, as his children adhered in principle to their uncle, +he renounced them, saying, “that, as they had chosen +to be saddled on the public purse, they must take the +consequences.”</p> +<p>The genius and originality of Lady Hester made her +an especial favorite with her uncle. She presided at +his table, and he evinced his respect for her abilities, +by employing her, after his retirement from office, as +his secretary. Though to the multitude this great +statesman appeared cold and unbending, with his +intimates, and those whom he received into his private +friendship, he was cheerful and affable; to women he +was polite in the extreme, and, in the midst of his +gravest avocations, would rise to pick up his secretary’s +fallen handkerchief. Devoted to the affairs of state, +Pitt paid no attention to his own pecuniary concerns, +so that the only provision he could make for his niece +at his death, was to recommend her to the favor of his +king and country, who acknowledged their obligation +to him by bestowing upon her a pension of twelve +hundred pounds, annually.</p> +<p>Soon after the death of her uncle, she left England, +and spent some years in visiting the chief cities of +continental Europe. Her rank, her beauty, and her +fortune, were alone sufficient to attract crowds of +suitors; but they were all rejected. After satisfying +her curiosity in Europe, she embarked, with a numerous +retinue, for Constantinople, with the determination +of making a long sojourn in the East, and taking +with her a large amount of property. A storm overtook +the vessel on the coast of Caramania, fronting +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_123' name='page_123'></a>123</span> +the Island of Rhodes; the vessel struck against a +rock, and soon went to pieces, burying Lady Hester’s +jewels and other property, to a large amount, in the +waves. Her own escape was almost miraculous. +The piece of the wreck on which she had taken +refuge was cast on the shore of a small, desert island, +where she remained twenty-four hours, without help +or food of any kind. At last, some fishermen of Marmoriga, +who were in search of the remains of the +wreck, found her out, and brought her to Rhodes.</p> +<p>Her resolution was not daunted by this disaster. +She returned to England, collected the remains of her +fortune, and, after investing a portion of it in the +English funds, embarked once more for the East, +taking with her articles for presents, and whatever else +might be of service in the countries she designed to +visit. Her voyage was prosperous, and she landed at +the site of the ancient Laodicea, now called Latakia, +between Tripoli and Alexandretta, on the coast of +Syria.</p> +<p>In the neighborhood of this place she fixed her residence, +and entered upon a course of preparation for +her intended journeys into the most inaccessible parts +of Arabia, Mesopotamia, and the desert. She strengthened +her body by diet and exercise, and, from being +weak and debilitated, became strong and vigorous +as an Amazon. She studied the Arab language, and +sought for intercourse with the various classes of +Arabs, Druses, and Maronites of the country.</p> +<p>After having become perfectly familiar with the +language, manners, and usages, of the country, she +organized a large caravan, and, loading her camels +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_124' name='page_124'></a>124</span> +with rich presents for the Arabs, set out on her travels. +She visited every place worthy of notice in Syria. At +Palmyra numerous hordes of wandering Arabs assembled +round her tent, to the number of forty or fifty +thousand, and, charmed by her beauty, her grace, and +her splendor, proclaimed her queen of that once +imperial city, and delivered firmans into her hand, by +which it was agreed that every European who should +receive her protection might proceed in perfect safety +through the desert, paying to them a certain fixed +tribute.</p> +<p>The newly-proclaimed queen herself ran great +hazard, on her return from Palmyra, and narrowly +escaped being carried off by a tribe hostile to those +of that region. She, however, received notice of her +danger in season—by the swiftness of her horses, and +a twenty-four hours’ journey of almost incredible +extent—to place herself and her caravan out of the +reach of the enemy. The next few months she +passed at Damascus, protected by the Turkish pacha, +to whom the Porte had highly recommended her.</p> +<p>Satisfied, at length, with a life of wandering, Lady +Hester settled herself on one of the mountains of +Lebanon, near the ancient Sidon. Quitting this place, +the traveller enters upon a wild and barren country. +Hill succeeds to hill, and all are divested of vegetation +or soil. At last, from the top of one of these rocks, +his eye rests upon a valley deeper and broader than +the rest, bordered on all sides by more majestic but +equally barren mountains. In the midst of this valley +the mountain of Djoun rises, with a flat summit covered +with a beautiful green vegetation. A white wall +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_125' name='page_125'></a>125</span> +surrounds this mass of verdure, and marks the habitation +of the “Sittee Inglis,” or “English lady.” It is +a confused assemblage of small cottages, each containing +one or two rooms, without windows, and separated +from one another by small gardens. All the +verdure was the result of her own labor; she created +what to Eastern eyes might seem a paradise—gardens +containing bowers of fragrant vines, kiosks embellished +with sculpture and paintings, with fountains of +marble; and arches formed of orange, fig, and lemon-trees.</p> +<p>Here she resided for many years in a style of +Eastern magnificence, surrounded by a concourse of +household officers, and a numerous retinue of young +females,—upon whose education she employed herself,—and +a host of servants, black and white. She held +friendly intercourse with the Sublime Porte, with the +various pachas, and with the chiefs of the numerous +tribes of Arabs and others about her. Such was the +state in which she lived, and the influence which she +exerted, that she might well imagine herself “Queen +of the Desert.”</p> +<p>But the splendor of her reign was soon dimmed. +Her treasures were not large enough to bear the unlimited +draughts upon them. Her Arab friends, +whose affections were only to be preserved by constant +gifts, cooled towards her when these became less +rich and less frequent; those who had accompanied +her from Europe, died or deserted her; and she was +at length left in a state of absolute retirement.</p> +<p>Some sources of influence still remained to her; +one of these was in that power which the strong-minded +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_126' name='page_126'></a>126</span> +and educated always exercise over the weak +and ignorant. Astrology—a science long banished +from Europe—still holds its sway in the East. The +opinion went abroad that Lady Hester could read the +stars, and procured for her that respect among the +common people, and, to a certain extent, that personal +security, which had formerly been purchased with the +shawls of Cashmere, and the rich silver-mounted +pistols of England.</p> +<p>But whilst practising these arts upon others, she +became herself the victim of strange delusions. She +came by degrees to believe that the history of all was +written in the stars, and that she had there read the +history of the world. The Messiah was soon to appear +upon the earth, and by his side, mounted upon a milk-white +mare of matchless beauty, which was then in +her stable, she was to witness the conquest of Jerusalem, +and the establishment of his kingdom. She had, +too, in her stable the mare upon which her companion +was to ride. This animal, in all other respects of beautiful +proportions, had behind the shoulders a cavity so +large and deep, and imitating so completely a Turkish +saddle, that one might say with truth she was foaled saddled. +The appearance of an animal with this peculiarity, +in itself a deformity, served as an incitement to credulity, +and to keep up the delusion. The animal was watched +with the greatest care by two grooms, one of whom +was never to lose sight of her. No one had ever +mounted her, and from her bearing one might have +fancied that the creature was conscious of the admiration +and respect which were entertained for her by all +around, and felt the dignity of her future mission.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_127' name='page_127'></a>127</span></div> +<p>The talent which Lady Hester was supposed to +possess was put in constant requisition by her credulous +neighbors; nor was her power ever exercised for +bad purposes. She used it to calm the passions of the +violent; to induce the unjust and the oppressor to +make reparation for their wrong-doings; and put it +to other good uses, of which the following anecdote, +related by herself, will furnish an example: “An Arab +suspected his wife of talking too much with strangers +in his absence, and one of his neighbors confirmed his +suspicions. He went home, proceeded to strangle the +unfortunate woman, and, when she became insensible, +he dragged her to some distance, and commenced +interring her: the first heap of sand which he threw +upon her recalled sensation; she manifested symptoms +of life, and he repented of his vengeance; he brought +her to me half dead; told the story of her supposed +guilt, but owned he was premature in strangling her, +as he should have first got me to consult her star, to +ascertain if she really deserved to die or not. I sent +the woman to the <i>harem</i>, had her bled, and taken care +of till she recovered, and then I summoned the man +before me. ‘My good friend,’ said I, ‘your wife’s +star has been consulted; take her back in peace, and +thank God you have her; for it is written in the stars, +“On vain surmises thou shalt not strangle thy wife, +neither shalt thou hearken to the slanderers of her +honor.”’ The man immediately held out his hand to +his gentle rib; she kissed it, and forth he walked, desiring +her to follow him, with the most perfect indifference. +I asked the woman if she were afraid of +another act of violence. She calmly replied, ‘Is he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_128' name='page_128'></a>128</span> +not my husband? Has he not a right to kill me, if he +suspects me of doing wrong?’”</p> +<p>Lady Hester believed in the science of astrology +to the fullest extent. She believed that we are all +children of some one of the celestial fires which presided +at our birth, and of which the happy or malignant +influence is written in our eyes, on our foreheads, +in our fortunes, in the lines of our hands, in the form +of our feet, in our gesture, in our walk. She believed +that, from these various elements, she could read the +character and destiny of any individual who was but for +a few moments in her presence. In accordance with +her belief, she thought that skilful astrologers should +be appointed to every district, to consult the heavenly +bodies at the birth of every child; the nature of each +natal star to be registered by them, and kept secret till +the period of education, which is to be adapted to that +particular calling which the star of every human being +indicates.</p> +<p>The following somewhat poetical description of the +personal appearance of Lady Hester is given by a +traveller, who, in 1832, was suffered to visit her—a +favor rarely granted to Europeans: “I was introduced +into her cabinet by a little negro child. It was so extremely +dark, that it was with difficulty I could distinguish +her noble, grave, yet mild and majestic features, +clad in an Oriental costume. She rose from the divan, +advanced, and offered me her hand. She appeared to +be about fifty years of age; but she possessed those +personal traits which years cannot alter. Freshness, +color, and grace, depart with youth; but when beauty +resides in the form itself, in purity of expression, in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_129' name='page_129'></a>129</span> +dignity, in majesty, and a thoughtful countenance, +whether in man or woman, this beauty may change +with the different periods of life, but it does not pass +away—it eminently characterized the person of Lady +Hester Stanhope.</p> +<p>“She wore a white turban, and on her forehead was +a purple-colored woollen fillet, which fell on each side +of her head as low as her shoulders. A long, yellow +Cashmere shawl, and an immense Turkish robe of +white silk, with flowing sleeves, enveloped all her +person in simple and majestic folds, while an opening +of these folds upon the bosom displayed a tunic of rich +Persian stuff, covered with flowers, which was attached +round the neck by a clasp of pearls. Turkish yellow +morocco boots, embroidered with silk, completed this +beautiful Oriental costume, which she wore with that +freedom and grace, as if she had never used any other +from her youth.”</p> +<p>Though Lady Hester retained her power over the +lower classes by means of their superstitious fears, the +neighboring chiefs were not to be thus restrained, and +some of them sought by robbery to indemnify themselves +for the loss of the accustomed presents. Hoping +to coerce her into a renewal of them, they harassed +her by petty vexations; her camels were seized; her +servants were beaten; and at length, when she retaliated, +a firman was procured, forbidding any Mussulman, +on pain of death, to remain in her service, or to +carry water to her house. The severity of the last prohibition +may be judged from the fact that the water +for the use of her house and garden had to be brought +from a river three or four miles distant. Her appeal, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_130' name='page_130'></a>130</span> +however, to the Porte procured the withdrawal of the +firman, and saved her gardens from the destruction +which a want of irrigation would soon have produced.</p> +<p>In 1837, a new source of vexation to Lady Hester +arose. The British government, having received information +that some of her English creditors were in a +state of destitution, appropriated the pension which +Lady Hester had so long received to their relief. +This met with a spirited remonstrance on the part of +her ladyship, who called to her aid the Duke of Wellington +and other opponents of the whig administration. +Failing in these efforts, she appealed to the queen +herself, but with no better success. She did not long +survive this new source of mortification. On hearing +of her illness, the British consul at Beyroot, accompanied +by Mr. Thomson, an American missionary, +hastened to her assistance; but, on their arrival, nothing +was left for them to do but to pay the last sad offices to +her remains. She died on the 23d of June, 1839.</p> +<p>Various and opposing motives have been assigned +for the unusual conduct of Lady Hester: we think, +however, its explanation is to be found in an eccentric +imagination, a turn for adventure, and that love of +power which is inherent in the human breast. We can +hardly consider it more extraordinary that one English +lady should be found willing to accept a government +under the sunny skies of Syria, than that so many +English officers should seek for sway on the burning +shores of Africa and the East Indies.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_131' name='page_131'></a>131</span> +<a name='HANNAH_MORE' id='HANNAH_MORE'></a> +<h2>HANNAH MORE.</h2> +</div> +<p>Hannah More was the youngest but one of the +five daughters of Jacob More, who, after receiving an +education for the church, bounded his wishes by the +possession of a school at Stapleton, England, upon obtaining +which, he married the daughter of a respectable +farmer; and to the soundness of her judgment in the +culture and regulation of her children, the credit and +success which attended them are, in a great degree, to +be attributed.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_132' name='page_132'></a>132</span></div> +<p>Like other intelligent children, Hannah More displayed +at an early age a desire for knowledge and a +love of books. To supply the want of the latter, her +father was accustomed to relate to his children, from +memory, the most striking events of Grecian and +Roman history, dwelling much on the parallels and +wise sayings of Plutarch. He would also recite to +them the speeches of his favorite heroes in the original +languages, and then translate them into English. +Hannah thus acquired a taste for the Latin classics, +an acquaintance with which she carefully cultivated, +in defiance of her father’s horror of <i>blue stockingism</i>, +which was extreme, and which probably prevented his +instructing her in Greek.</p> +<p>The bent of her mind displayed itself at an early +age. Every scrap of paper, of which she could possess +herself, was scribbled over with essays and poems, +having some well-directed moral. Her little sister, +with whom she slept, was the depositary of her nightly +effusions; and, in her zeal lest they should be lost, she +would sometimes steal down to procure a light, and +commit them to paper. The greatest wish her imagination +could frame, was that she might some day be +rich enough to have a whole quire of paper; and, when +this wish was gratified, she soon filled it with letters +to depraved characters, of her own invention, urging +them to abandon their errors, and letters in return, +expressive of contrition and resolutions of amendment.</p> +<div class='figcenter'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_6' id='linki_6'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/illo-131.png' alt='' title='' width='337' height='400' /> +<br /> +<p class='caption'> +HANNAH MORE.<br /> +</p> +</div> +<p>Her elder sisters, having been educated with that +view, opened a boarding-school for young ladies at +Bristol; and under their care the school education +of Hannah was completed. While yet a pupil, she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_133' name='page_133'></a>133</span> +attracted the notice and enjoyed the friendship of +many eminent men. She delighted to study the +sciences with Ferguson, the astronomer; and such was +his opinion of her taste and genius, that he submitted +his compositions to her for the correction of errors in +style. Of her conversational powers at this period an +anecdote is related. A dangerous illness brought her +under the care of Dr. Woodward, an eminent physician. +On one of his visits, being led into conversation +with his patient on literary subjects, he forgot the +purpose of his coming; till, recollecting himself when +half way down stairs, he cried out, “Bless me! I +forgot to ask the girl how she was;” and returned to +the room, exclaiming, “How are you to-day, my poor +child?”</p> +<p>In her seventeenth year, she appeared before the +public as an author. The class of books, now so +common, called “Readers,” and “Speakers,” was +then unknown. Young persons were in the habit of +committing to memory the popular plays of the day, +which were not always pure in their sentiments, or +moral in their tendency. “To furnish a substitute,” +as the youthful moralist tells us in her preface, “for +the very improper custom of allowing plays, and those +not of the purest kind, to be acted by young ladies in +boarding-schools, and to afford them an innocent, and +perhaps not altogether unuseful amusement, in the +exercise of recitation,” she composed a drama, called +the “Search after Happiness.” Her object was to +convey instruction in a pleasing form, and the intention +was well executed. The plot is of the simplest +kind, and one not calculated to kindle the fervors of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_134' name='page_134'></a>134</span> +poetry. Four young ladies betake themselves to the +retreat of a virtuous lady, who, with her two daughters, +has renounced the world and fixed herself in a secluded +spot—to receive from her, as from an oracle, +instructions which shall guide them in the way which +leads to peace and contentment.</p> +<p>Among the pupils of the Misses More were two +Misses Turner, who were in the habit of passing the +vacations at the house of a bachelor cousin of the +same name. They were permitted to bring some of +their young friends with them, and took the two +youngest of their governesses, Hannah and Patty +More. “The consequence was natural. Hannah +was clever and fascinating; Mr. T. was generous +and sensible: he became attached, and made his +offer, which was accepted. She gave up her interest +in the school, and was at much expense in fitting +herself out to be the wife of a man of fortune.” The +day was fixed more than once for the wedding, and +Mr. Turner each time postponed it. Her sisters and +friends interfered, and broke off the engagement, and +would not suffer her to listen to any of his subsequent +proposals. To compensate her, as he said, for the +robbery he had committed on her time, and to enable +her to devote herself to literary pursuits, Mr. Turner +settled upon her an annuity; and at his death, to show +that he still retained his esteem, he left her a legacy. +The distress and disturbance which this event occasioned +her, led to a resolution, on her part, never again +to incur a similar hazard—a resolution the strength of +which was tested by actual trial.</p> +<p>Among the favorite sports of Hannah’s childhood +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_135' name='page_135'></a>135</span> +was the making a carriage of a chair, and playing at +riding to London to visit bishops and booksellers—a +day-dream which became a reality in 1784. Of the +circumstances which led to the journey we have no +record. A few days after her arrival in London, she +was, by a fortunate accident, brought to the notice of +Garrick. A letter written by her to a mutual friend, +describing the effect produced upon her mind by his +representation of Lear, was shown to him, and excited +in him a curiosity to see and converse with her. +The desire was gratified; they were reciprocally +pleased, and Miss More was soon domesticated with +Mr. Garrick and his affectionate wife; and, for the +next twenty years, she spent six months of each year +under their hospitable roof. Through them she was +at once received on terms of cordial kindness into +their wide and splendid circle. She was welcomed as +a sister spirit by the <i>coterie</i> which she has so elaborately +eulogized in the “Bas Bleu.” She has often +been heard to describe, very humorously, her raptures +on her first introduction to a “live author,” and her +sisters long remembered her strong desire to get a +sight, from some hiding-place, of Dr. Johnson. She +was now to meet him face to face. The first interview +was at Sir Joshua Reynolds’s. She had been +prepared by Sir Joshua for finding him in one of his +sombre moods, but was surprised and delighted at his +coming to meet her, as she entered the room, with +good-humor on his countenance, and a macaw of Sir +Joshua’s on his hand; and still more at his accosting +her with a verse from a morning hymn, which she had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_136' name='page_136'></a>136</span> +written at the desire of her early and firm friend, Dr. +Stonehouse.</p> +<p>A few extracts from the sprightly letters of a sister +who accompanied her, will furnish the best picture of +the scenes in which Miss More now bore a part. +“Hannah has been introduced to Burke—the Sublime +and Beautiful Burke! From a large party of literary +persons assembled at Sir Joshua’s she received the +most encouraging compliments; and the spirit with +which she returned them was acknowledged by all +present.” “The most amiable and obliging of women—Miss +Reynolds—has taken us to Dr. Johnson’s <i>very +own</i> house! Can you picture to yourselves the palpitation +of our hearts as we approached his mansion? +Miss Reynolds told the doctor of all our rapturous exclamations +on the road. He shook his scientific head +at Hannah, and said, ‘she was a silly thing.’ When +our visit was ended, he called for his hat to attend us +down a very long entry to our coach, and not Rasselas +could have acquitted himself more <i>en cavalier</i>. I +forgot to mention, that, not finding Johnson in his parlor +when we came in, Hannah seated herself in a great +chair, hoping to catch a little ray of his genius: when +he heard of it, he laughed heartily, and told her it was +a chair on which he never sat. He said it reminded +him of Boswell and himself, when they stopped a +night at the spot—as they imagined—where the weird +sisters appeared to Macbeth; the idea so worked upon +their enthusiasm that it deprived them of rest; however, +they learned, the next morning, to their mortification, +that they had been deceived, and were quite in +another part of the country.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_137' name='page_137'></a>137</span></div> +<p>Johnson was not always, however, in the humor to +swallow the flattery which she lavished upon him; +Mrs. Thrale records a surly enough rebuke which the +doctor administered to her: “Consider, madam, what +your flattery is worth before you choke me with it.” +As he was complaining, upon another occasion, that he +had been obliged to ask Miss Reynolds to give her a +hint on the subject, somebody observed that she flattered +Garrick also; “Ay,” said the doctor, “and she +is right there; first, she has the world with her; and, +secondly, Garrick rewards her. I can do nothing for +her. Let her carry her praise to a better market.” +But in this flattery there was no want of sincerity and +no disingenuousness. At the age of thirty-one she had +brought to London the fresh, ecstatic enthusiasm of a +country girl of seventeen; when, instead of having +Johnson pointed out to her as he rolled along the +pavement of Fleet Street, and gazing at Garrick from +the side boxes, she found herself at once admitted to +the inmost circle of the literary magnets—it is not +wonderful that her feelings should overflow in language +and gesture rather too warm for the acclimated inhabitants +of the temperate zone.</p> +<p>The same hyperbolical style is to be found in the +letters intended only for the eyes of her sisters. “Mrs. +Montagu is not only the finest genius, but the finest +lady, I ever saw; she lives in the highest style of magnificence; +her apartments and tables are in the most +splendid taste; but what baubles are these when speaking +of a Montagu! Her form—for she has no body—is +delicate to fragility; her countenance the most +animated in the world; she has the sprightly vivacity of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_138' name='page_138'></a>138</span> +sixteen, with the judgment and experience of a Nestor. +Mrs. Carter has in her person a great deal of what the +gentlemen mean when they speak of a ‘poetical lady:’ +independently of her great talents and learning, I +like her much: she has affability, kindness, and goodness; +and I honor her heart more than her talents; +but I do not like one of them better than Mrs. Boscawen; +she is at once learned, polite, judicious, and +humble.” At a party at which all these and other +luminaries were collected, Dr. Johnson asked Miss +More her opinion of the new tragedy of “Braganza.” +“I was afraid,” says she, “to speak before them all, +as I knew there was a diversity of opinion: however, +as I thought it a less evil to dissent from a fellow-creature +than to tell a falsity, I ventured to give my +sentiments, and was satisfied with Johnson’s answering, +‘You are right, madam.’”</p> +<p>Stimulated by the approbation of such judges, Miss +More turned to literature with redoubled energy; and +from this period, the important part of her personal history +may be read in that of a succession of works, all in +their season popular; all commendable for moral tone; +considerably above mediocrity in literary execution; +and some of them worthy to survive their age.</p> +<p>After her return home, she one day laughingly said +to her sisters, “I have been so fed with praise, that I +think I will try what is my real value, by writing a slight +poem, and offering it to Cadell.” Accordingly she +wrote and sent him “Sir Eldred of the Bower,” a ballad +in the style which Dr. Percy had rendered popular. +Cadell offered her a price far exceeding her idea of its +worth; adding that, if she would ascertain what Goldsmith +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_139' name='page_139'></a>139</span> +received for the “Deserted Village,” he would +make it up to the same sum. With the public the +poem met with a success which its merits by no means +justify. At a tea-visit in her own lodgings, where she +had Johnson all to herself,—and as she tells us he +ought always to be had, for he did not care to speak in +mixed companies,—the new poem was discussed. The +leviathan of letters, instead of expressing his contempt +for compositions of this class, and treating her to a new +stanza,—like</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“I put my hat upon my head,</p> +<p class='indent2'>And walked into the Strand,</p> +<p>And there I met another man</p> +<p class='indent2'>With his hat in his hand,”—</p> +</div></div> +<p>indited the following, which she proudly engrafted on +the original in the second edition, no doubt receiving +the compliment as paid to the author, rather than to +the heroine:—</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“My scorn has oft the dart repelled</p> +<p class='indent2'>Which guileful beauty threw;</p> +<p>But goodness heard, and grace beheld,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Must every heart subdue.”</p> +</div></div> +<p>In her early life, Miss More was subject to frequent +attacks of illness, which she was wont to say were a +great blessing to her, for they induced a habit of industry +not natural to her, and taught her to make the most +of her <i>well</i> days. She laughingly added, it had +taught her to contrive employment for her sick ones; +that from habit she had learned to suit her occupations +to every gradation of the capacity she possessed. “I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_140' name='page_140'></a>140</span> +never,” said she, “afford a moment of a healthy day +to cross a <i>t</i> or dot an <i>i</i>; so that I find the lowest +stage of my understanding may be turned to some +account, and save better days for better things. I have +learned also to avoid procrastination, and that idleness +which often attends unbroken health.” These habits +of order and industry gave her much time for intellectual +pursuits, even amidst the dissipations of the city.</p> +<p>At her first introduction to its brilliant society, +Patty More seemed to have some apprehensions that +her sister “Hannah’s head might not stand proof +against all the adulation and kindness of the great +folks.” But these effected no change in her deportment; +her simplicity remained unsullied; home and +the society of her sisters had lost for her none of +its charms. Her good sense and firmness of character +were subjected to a yet more severe trial upon the production +of the tragedy of “Percy.” Nothing could +exceed the zeal which Garrick displayed to insure +its success. Miss More thus speaks of it in a letter to +her sister: “It is impossible to tell you of all the +kindness of the Garricks; he thinks of nothing, talks +of nothing, writes of nothing, but ‘Percy.’ When he +had finished his prologue and epilogue, he desired I +would pay him. Dryden, he said, used to have five +guineas apiece, but, as he was a richer man, he would +be content if I would treat him with a handsome supper +and a bottle of claret. We haggled sadly about +the price; I insisting that I could only afford to give +him a beef-steak and a pot of porter; and at about +twelve, we sat down to some toast and honey, with +which the temperate bard contented himself.” She +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_141' name='page_141'></a>141</span> +adds in the same letter, “What dreadful news from +America!—Burgoyne’s surrender.—We are a disgraced, +undone nation. What a sad time to bring out +a play in! when, if the country had the least spark of +virtue remaining, not a creature would think of going +to it.”</p> +<p>The success of “Percy” was prodigious; greater +than that of any tragedy for years. She received for +it about six hundred pounds, which, she tells us, “her +friend Mr. Garrick invested for her on the best security, +and at five per cent., and so it made a decent +little addition to her small income.” Cadell paid one +hundred and fifty pounds for the copy-right, and it +proved a very successful speculation. The first edition, +of four thousand copies,—a very large one for +those days,—was sold off in a fortnight.</p> +<p>Though the patronage of Garrick and the popularity +of the author contributed in no small degree to +its success, yet the tragedy itself possesses intrinsic +merits. The plot is simple. Bertha, the daughter of +Lord Raby, is betrothed, in early youth, to Earl Percy. +His family incur the displeasure of Lord Raby, and, +during the young earl’s absence in the Holy Land, he +compels his daughter to marry Earl Douglas, the +hereditary enemy of the Percys. The proud spirit +of Douglas is chafed to find that his own ardent love +is met only with cold and respectful obedience. He +suspects the preëngagement of her affections, and his +jealousy rouses him to fury, when Percy is found in +the neighborhood of his castle. In the catastrophe, +all the principal personages are involved in a common +destruction. In the development of the plot the author +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_142' name='page_142'></a>142</span> +displays considerable imagination, and much dramatic +skill. The interest is well sustained; the didactic +spirit sometimes breaks forth, as in the conclusion of +the following extract, in which Lord Raby laments the +sombre and melancholy spirit with which the jealousy +of Douglas has infected his whole household:—</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“——Am I in Raby castle?</p> +<p>Impossible! That was the seat of smiles;</p> +<p>There cheerfulness and joy were household gods.</p> +<p>But now suspicion and distrust preside,</p> +<p>And discontent maintains a sullen sway.</p> +<p>Where is the smile unfeigned, the jovial welcome,</p> +<p>Which cheered the sad, beguiled the pilgrim’s pain,</p> +<p>And made dependency forget its bonds?</p> +<p>Where is the ancient, hospitable hall,</p> +<p>Whose vaulted roof once rung with harmless mirth;</p> +<p>Where every passing stranger was a guest,</p> +<p>And every guest a friend? I fear me much,</p> +<p>If once our nobles scorn their rural seats,</p> +<p>Their rural greatness, and their vassals’ love,</p> +<p>Freedom and English grandeur are no more.”</p> +</div></div> +<p>The following passage, in which Bertha seeks to +exculpate herself for the breach of faith with which +Percy, whom she meets by accident after his return, +charges her, is full of pathos:—</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“I could withstand his fury; but his tears—</p> +<p>Ah, they undid me! Percy, dost thou know</p> +<p>The cruel tyranny of tenderness?</p> +<p>Hast thou e’er felt a father’s warm embrace?</p> +<p>Hast thou e’er seen a father’s flowing tears,</p> +<p>And known that thou couldst wipe those tears away?</p> +<p>If thou hast felt, and hast resisted these,</p> +<p>Then thou may’st curse my weakness; but if not,</p> +<p>Thou canst not pity, for thou canst not judge.”</p> +</div></div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_143' name='page_143'></a>143</span></div> +<p>Encouraged by the success of “Percy,” and urged +by Garrick, Miss More composed a second tragedy, +called the “Fatal Falsehood.” The whole was completed, +and four acts had been revised by Garrick, +when death deprived her of that warm and disinterested +friend. Miss More pays the following tribute to +his memory: “I never can cease to remember with +affection and gratitude so warm, steady, and disinterested +a friend; I can most truly bear this testimony to +his memory, that I never witnessed, in any family, +more decorum, propriety, and regularity, than in his; +where I never saw a card, or ever met—except in one +instance—a person of his own profession at his table. +All his pursuits and tastes were so decidedly intellectual, +that it made the society and the conversation +which was always to be found in his circle, interesting +and delightful.”</p> +<p>The success of the “Fatal Falsehood” was great, +but not equal to that of “Percy.” We must content +ourselves with making one extract, in which she characterizes +“Honor,” as it is technically called:—</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“Honor! O yes, I know him. ’Tis a phantom,</p> +<p>A shadowy figure, wanting bulk and life,</p> +<p>Who, having nothing solid in himself,</p> +<p>Wraps his thin form in Virtue’s plundered robe,</p> +<p>And steals her title. Honor! ’tis the fiend</p> +<p>Who feeds on orphans’ tears and widows’ groans,</p> +<p>And slakes his impious thirst in brothers’ blood.</p> +<p>Honor! why, ’tis the primal law of hell!</p> +<p>The grand device to people the dark realms</p> +<p>With noble spirits, who, but for this cursed honor,</p> +<p>Had been at peace on earth, or blessed in heaven.</p> +<p>With this <i>false</i> honor Christians have no commerce;</p> +<p>Religion disavows, and truth disowns it.”</p> +</div></div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_144' name='page_144'></a>144</span></div> +<p>One more tragedy, the “Inflexible Captive,” completes +Miss More’s labors in this department of literature. +She arrived at the conclusion that, by contributing +plays, however pure, to the existing stage, she +should be using her powers to heighten its <i>general</i> +attraction as a place of amusement; and, considering +the English theatre as, on the whole, the most profligate +in the world, she resolved to abjure it and all its concerns +forever—an instance of self-love sacrificed to +principle hardly to be paralleled. When her works +were collected, the tragedies were allowed to take +their place, in order, as the author tells us in a preface +written in her happiest manner, that she might ground +on such publication her sentiments upon the general +tendency of the drama, and, by including in her view +her own compositions, might involve herself in the +general object of her own animadversions.</p> +<p>She makes no apology for the republication of her +“Sacred Dramas,” though they may, perhaps, be regarded +as falling within the range of some of her criticisms +on the old Mysteries and Moralities—pieces “in +which events too solemn for exhibition, and subjects too +awful for detail, are brought before the audience with +a formal gravity more offensive than levity itself.”</p> +<p>As a general poet, Miss More was, at this period, +the very height of the fashion. Horace Walpole +thought himself honored in being permitted to print +some of her pieces in the most lavish style of expense, +at the press of Strawberry Hill. But fashions in literature +are scarcely more lasting than those in dress. +Her poems are now immersed in Lethe, except a +few terse couplets, which have floated down to the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_145' name='page_145'></a>145</span> +present generation on the stream of oral citation, and +are now often in the mouths of people who fancy that +they belong to Swift or Gay. Many of her poems are, +however, worthy of a better fate. They are distinguished +by purity and elevation of sentiment, ease and +strength of diction, and harmony of versification. In +the last particular she received great praise from +Johnson, who pronounced her to be “the best versificatrix +in the English language.”</p> +<p>We will give a few extracts. The first is from +“Sensibility,” a poem in which she claims for that +quality the place which Mrs. Grenville, in a then well-known +ode, arrogated for “Indifference.”</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“Sweet sensibility! thou keen delight!</p> +<p>Unprompted moral! sudden sense of right!</p> +<p>Perception exquisite! fair virtue’s seed!</p> +<p>Thou quick precursor of the liberal deed!</p> +<p>Thou hasty conscience! reason’s blushing morn!</p> +<p>Instinctive kindness e’er reflection’s born!</p> +<p>Prompt sense of equity! to thee belongs</p> +<p>The swift redress of unexamined wrongs;</p> +<p>Eager to serve, the cause perhaps untried,</p> +<p>But always apt to choose the suffering side;</p> +<p>To those who know thee not no words can paint,</p> +<p>And those who know thee know all words are faint.</p> +<p>She does not feel thy power who boasts thy flame,</p> +<p>And rounds her every period with thy name.</p> +<p>As words are but th’ external marks to tell</p> +<p>The fair ideas in the mind that dwell,</p> +<p>And only are of things the outward sign,</p> +<p>And not the things themselves they but define,</p> +<p>So exclamations, tender tones, fond tears,</p> +<p>And all the graceful drapery feeling wears,—</p> +<p>These are her garb, not her; they but express</p> +<p>Her form, her semblance, her appropriate dress;</p> +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_146' name='page_146'></a>146</span></p> +<p>And these fair marks,—reluctant I relate,—</p> +<p>These lovely symbols, may be counterfeit.</p> +<p>There are who fill with brilliant plaints the page,</p> +<p>If a poor linnet meet the gunner’s rage;</p> +<p>There are who for a dying fawn deplore,</p> +<p>As if friend, parent, country, were no more;</p> +<p>Who boast, quick rapture trembling in their eye,</p> +<p>If from a spider’s snare they snatch a fly;</p> +<p>There are whose well-sung plaints each breast inflame,</p> +<p>And break all hearts—but his from whence they came.”</p> +</div></div> +<p>The “Bas Bleu” is a sprightly portraiture of what +she considered to be the right constitution and character +of social conversation. It is a vivacious image of +that circle of gay and graceful conversers from whose +appellation it takes its name. It was first circulated in +manuscript, and we find Miss More apologizing to her +sister for the shortness of a letter, on the ground that +she had not a moment to spare, as she was copying the +“Bas Bleu,” for the king, at his request. Dr. Johnson +pronounced it to be “a very great performance.” +To the author herself he expressed himself in yet +stronger terms. She writes to her sister, “As to the +‘Bas Bleu,’ all the flattery I ever received from every +body together would not make up his sum. He said—but +I seriously insist you do not tell any body, for I +am ashamed of writing it even to you—he said, +‘there was no name in poetry that might not be glad +to own it.’ You cannot imagine how I stared; all this +from Johnson, that parsimonious praiser! I told him I +was delighted at his approbation; he answered quite +characteristically, ‘And so you may, for I give you +the opinion of a man who does not rate his judgment +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_147' name='page_147'></a>147</span> +in these things very low, I can tell you.’” The following +extract will give some idea of its merits:—</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“What lively pleasure to divine</p> +<p>The thought implied, the printed line!</p> +<p>To feel allusion’s artful force,</p> +<p>And trace the image to its source!</p> +<p>Quick Memory blends her scattered rays,</p> +<p>Till Fancy kindles at the blaze;</p> +<p>The works of ages start to view,</p> +<p>And ancient wit elicits new.</p> +<p>But wit and parts if thus we praise,</p> +<p>What nobler altars shall we raise?</p> +<p>Those sacrifices could we see</p> +<p>Which wit, O virtue! makes to thee,</p> +<p>At once the rising thought to dash,</p> +<p>To quench at once the bursting flash!</p> +<p>The shining mischief to subdue,</p> +<p>And lose the praise and pleasure too!</p> +<p>Though Venus’ self could you detect her</p> +<p>Imbuing with her richest nectar</p> +<p>The thought unchaste, to check that thought,</p> +<p>To spurn a fame so dearly bought,—</p> +<p>This is high principle’s control,</p> +<p>This is true continence of soul.</p> +<p>Blush, heroes, at your cheap renown,</p> +<p>A vanquished realm, a plundered town</p> +<p>Your conquests were to gain a name—</p> +<p>This conquest triumphs over fame.”</p> +</div></div> +<p>“Florio” is a metrical tale of a young man of good +principles and right feelings, who, from deference to +fashion, has indulged in vanities and follies bordering +on depravity, which he lays aside in disgust when +virtue and good sense, in alliance with female loveliness, +have made apparent to him the absurdity and +danger of his aberrations. In the following extract the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_148' name='page_148'></a>148</span> +reader will recognize some of the oft-quoted couplets +of which we have spoken:—</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“Exhausted Florio, at the age</p> +<p>When youth should rush on glory’s stage,</p> +<p>When life should open fresh and new,</p> +<p>And ardent Hope her schemes pursue,</p> +<p>Of youthful gayety bereft,</p> +<p>Had scarce an unbroached pleasure left;</p> +<p>He found already, to his cost,</p> +<p>The shining gloss of life was lost,</p> +<p>And Pleasure was so coy a prude,</p> +<p>She fled the more, the more pursued;</p> +<p>Or, if o’ertaken and caressed,</p> +<p>He loathed and left her when possessed.</p> +<p>But Florio knew the world; that science</p> +<p>Sets sense and learning at defiance;</p> +<p>He thought the world to him was known,</p> +<p>Whereas he only knew the <i>town</i>.</p> +<p>In men this blunder still you find:</p> +<p>All think their little set—mankind.</p> +<p>Though high renown the youth had gained,</p> +<p>No flagrant crimes his life had stained;</p> +<p>Though known among <i>a certain set</i>,</p> +<p>He did not like to be in debt;</p> +<p>He shuddered at the dicer’s box,</p> +<p>Nor thought it very heterodox</p> +<p>That tradesmen should be sometimes paid,</p> +<p>And bargains kept as well as made.</p> +<p>His growing credit, as a sinner,</p> +<p>Was, that he liked to spoil a dinner,</p> +<p>Made pleasure and made business wait,</p> +<p>And still by system came too late;</p> +<p>Yet ’twas a hopeful indication</p> +<p>On which to found a reputation:</p> +<p>Small habits, well pursued, betimes</p> +<p>May reach the dignity of crimes;</p> +<p>And who a juster claim preferred</p> +<p>Than one who always broke his word?”</p> +</div></div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_149' name='page_149'></a>149</span></div> +<p>The death of Garrick may be considered an era in +the life of Miss More. His wit, his gayety, his intelligence, +added to his admiration of her genius, and the +warmth of his friendship for her, formed the strongest +spell that held her in subjection to the fascinations of +brilliant society and town life. The early feeling +which prompted the infant wish for “a cottage too +low for a clock” was still fresh in her bosom. The +country, with its green pastures and still waters, still +retained its charms for her. “I have naturally,” she +writes, “but a small appetite for grandeur, which is +always satisfied, even to indigestion, before I leave +town; and I require a long abstinence to get any relish +for it again.” After the death of her friend, she +carried into execution the resolution she had long +cherished, of passing a portion of her time in retirement +in the country. With this view, she possessed +herself of a little secluded spot, which had acquired +the name of “Cowslip Green,” near Bristol.</p> +<p>Still, however, her sensibility to kindness would not +let her withhold herself entirely from her London +friends; her annual visits to Mrs. Garrick brought her +back into contact with the world and its crowded +resorts.</p> +<p>From her earliest acquaintance with society, she had +seen with sorrow the levity of manners, the indifference +to religion, and the total disregard of the Sabbath, +which prevailed in its higher circles. Not content +with holding herself uncontaminated, she felt it to be +her duty to make an effort for a reformation, and with +this end she published “Thoughts on the Importance +of the Manners of the Great to General Society.” To +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_150' name='page_150'></a>150</span> +appreciate the value of the effort, we must remember +that these “Thoughts” were not the animadversions of +a recluse, but of one who was flattered, admired, and +courted, by the very people whom she was about to +reprove; that the step might probably exclude her +from those circles in which she had hitherto been so +caressed. But the happiness of her friends was dearer +to her than their favor. That the probable consequences +did not ensue, does not diminish her merit. +This work and the one which speedily followed it, +“An Essay on the Religion of the Fashionable World,” +were popular beyond hope, and the wish of Bishop +Porteus, “that it might be placed in the hands of +every person of condition,” was almost realized. It +is unnecessary to dwell on these works; they are too +well known; they established her reputation as a great +moral writer, possessing a masterly command of language, +and devoting a keen wit and a lively fancy to +the best and noblest of purposes.—After giving one extract +from the most vigorous of her poems, “Slavery,” +written to aid the efforts which Clarkson and Wilberforce +were making in behalf of the African slave, and +in which she heartily sympathized, we will pass on to +new scenes, in which Miss More’s benevolent spirit +exhibits itself in a yet more active manner.</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“O thou sad spirit, whose preposterous yoke</p> +<p>The great deliverer, death, at length has broke!</p> +<p>Released from misery, and escaped from care,</p> +<p>Go, meet that mercy man denies thee here.</p> +<p>And if some notions, vague and undefined,</p> +<p>Of future terrors, have assailed thy mind;</p> +<p>If such thy masters have presumed to teach—</p> +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_151' name='page_151'></a>151</span></p> +<p>As terrors only they are prone to preach;</p> +<p>For, should they paint eternal mercy’s reign,</p> +<p>Where were the oppressor’s rod, the captive’s chain?—</p> +<p>If, then, thy troubled soul has learned to dread</p> +<p>The dark unknown thy trembling footsteps tread,</p> +<p>On Him who made thee what thou art depend;</p> +<p>He who withholds the means accepts the end.</p> +<p>Thy mental night thy Savior will not blame;</p> +<p>He died for those who never heard his name.</p> +<p>Nor thine the reckoning dire of light abused,</p> +<p>Knowledge disgraced, and liberty misused:</p> +<p>On thee no awful judge incensed shall sit,</p> +<p>For parts perverted or dishonored wit.</p> +<p>When ignorance will be found the safest plea,</p> +<p>How many learned and wise shall envy thee!”</p> +</div></div> +<p>In withdrawing herself from general society, Miss +More had cherished the hope of devoting herself to +meditation and literary leisure. But there was no rest +for her but in the consciousness of being useful. In +the course of her rambles in the neighborhood of her +residence, she was shocked to find the same vices, +against which she had lifted up her voice in high +places, existing in the peasant’s cottage, in a different +form, but heightened by ignorance, both mental and +spiritual. Though in a feeble state of health, she +could not withhold herself from the attempt to effect +a reformation.</p> +<p>In this she had no coadjutors but her sisters, who, +having acquired a competency, had retired from school-keeping, +and had, with her, a common home. Provision +was made by law for the support of clergymen; +but the vicar of Cheddar received his fifty pounds a +year, and resided at Oxford; and the rector of Axbridge +“was intoxicated about six times a week, and was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_152' name='page_152'></a>152</span> +very frequently prevented from preaching by two +black eyes, honestly acquired by fighting.”</p> +<p>She commenced operations by seeking to establish +a school at Cheddar. Some of the obstacles she +encountered may be best related in her own words. +“I was told we should meet with great opposition, if I +did not try to propitiate the chief despot of the village, +who is very rich and very brutal; so I ventured to the +den of this monster, in a country as savage as himself. +He begged I would not think of bringing any religion +into the country; it made the poor lazy and useless. +In vain I represented to him that they would be more +industrious, as they were better principled; and that I +had no selfish views in what I was doing. He gave +me to understand that he knew the world too well to +believe either the one or the other. I was almost +discouraged from more visits; but I found that friends +must be secured at all events; for, if these rich savages +set their faces against us, I saw that nothing but hostilities +would ensue: so I made eleven more of these +agreeable visits; and, as I improved in the art of canvassing, +had better success. Miss W. would have +been shocked, had she seen the petty tyrants whose +insolence I stroked and tamed, the ugly children I +praised, the pointers and spaniels I caressed, the cider +I commended, and the wine I swallowed. After these +irresistible flatteries, I inquired of each if he could +recommend me to a house, and said that I had a +little plan which I hoped would secure their orchards +from being robbed, their rabbits from being shot, their +game from being stolen, and which might lower the +poor rates. If effect be the best proof of eloquence, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_153' name='page_153'></a>153</span> +then mine was good speech, for I gained in time the +hearty concurrence of the whole people, and their +promise to discourage or favor the poor as they were +attentive or negligent in sending their children. Perhaps +the hearts of some of these rich brutes may be +touched; they are as ignorant as the beasts that +perish, intoxicated every day before dinner, and +plunged in such vices as make me begin to think +London a virtuous place.” The vicarage house, +which had not been occupied for a hundred years, +was hired for a school-house; “the vicar,” she says, +“who lives a long way off, is repairing the house for +me; and, as he is but ninety-four years old, he insists +on my taking a lease, and is as rigorous about the rent +as if I were taking it for an assembly-room.”</p> +<p>The prejudices of the poor were more difficult to +be overcome than those of the rich. Some thought +that her design was to make money, by sending of +their children for slaves; others, that, if she instructed +them for seven years, she would acquire such a control +as to be able to send them beyond seas. But she +persisted, and her success was great beyond expectation. +In a short time, she had at Cheddar near three +hundred children, under the charge of a discreet matron, +whom she hired for the purpose.</p> +<p>Encouraged by this success, she extended her field +of operations, and established schools at several other +villages. The nearest of these was six miles from +her home; the labor and fatigue of superintending the +whole was therefore very great. But she declined an +assistant for reasons stated in a letter to Mr. Wilberforce, +who had offered to seek for one. “An ordinary +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_154' name='page_154'></a>154</span> +person would be of no use; one of a superior cast, +who might be able to enter into my views, and further +them, would occasion an expense equal to the support +of one or two more schools. It will be time enough +to think of your scheme when I am quite laid by. +This hot weather makes me suffer terribly; yet I have +now and then a good day, and on Sunday was enabled +to open the school. It was an affecting sight. +Several of the grown-up lads had been tried at the +last assizes; three were children of a person lately +condemned to be hanged; many thieves; all ignorant, +profane, and vicious, beyond belief. Of this +banditti I have enlisted one hundred and seventy; and +when the clergyman, a hard man, who is also a magistrate, +saw these creatures kneeling round us, whom he +had seldom seen but to commit or to punish in some +way, he burst into tears.”</p> +<p>Her plan was not limited to intellectual and spiritual +instruction. The children were taught to sew, to spin, +and to knit. Nor were her labors confined to the +advancement of the well-being of the young; she +sought to introduce branches of manufacture, suitable +to the strength and sex of the women, and she arranged +with master manufacturers to buy the products of their +labor. She sought to establish habits of economy by +getting up associations, in which each contributed a +portion of her earnings, on condition of receiving a +support in case she should be disabled from labor. +This was a work of difficulty. Though the subscription +was only three half-pence per week, yet many +could not raise even this: such were privately assisted. +Other inducements, besides considerations of providence, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_155' name='page_155'></a>155</span> +must be held out to the improvident. “An +anniversary feast of tea was held, at which some of +the clergy and better sort of people were present. +The patronesses waited on the women, who sat and +enjoyed their dignity. The journal and state of affairs +was read. A collateral advantage resulted from this. +The women, who used to plead that they could not go +to church because they had no clothes, now went. +The necessity of going to church in procession on the +anniversary, raised an honest ambition to get something +decent to wear, and the churches on Sunday +were filled with very clean-looking women.”</p> +<p>Similar machinery was brought into exercise to +advance the cause of her schools. Two years after +the first attempt, we find this apology for not sooner +writing to a friend: “I have been too busy in preparing +for a grand celebration, distinguished by the +pompous name of <i>Mendip Feast</i>; the range of hills +you remember in this country, on the top of which +we yesterday gave a dinner of beef, and plum pudding, +and cider, to our schools. There were not six +hundred children, for I would not admit the <i>new</i> +schools, telling them they must be good for a year or +two, to be entitled to so great a thing as a dinner. +Curiosity had drawn a great multitude, for a country +so thinly peopled; one wondered whence five thousand +people—for that was the calculation—could come. +We all parted with the most perfect peace, having fed +about nine hundred people for less than a <i>fine</i> dinner +for twenty, costs.”</p> +<p>It would require a large volume to speak of all Miss +More’s labors in behalf of erring and suffering humanity. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_156' name='page_156'></a>156</span> +At one time, we find her engaged, in the most +harassing and embarrassing situations, spending days +and nights with armed Bow Street officers in searching +the vilest haunts for a young heiress, who had been +trepanned away from school at the age of fourteen. +The details of another of her attempts to alleviate +suffering, exhibit so strikingly the genuine liberality of +her heart and conduct, as to be worth relating. She +was one day informed that a woman, who called every +day for stuff to feed a pig, was, with her husband and +children, perishing with hunger. She lost no time in +endeavoring to rescue this miserable family, and soon +discovered that the woman was possessed of more +than ordinary talent. She produced several scraps of +poetry, which evinced much genius. It occurred to +Miss More that this talent might be made the means +of exciting a general interest in her behalf, and raising +a fund to set her up in some creditable way of earning +a subsistence. She accordingly took a great deal of +pains in instructing her in writing, spelling, and composition; +and, while the object of her charity was +preparing, under her inspection, a small collection of +poems, she was employed in writing to all her friends +of rank and fortune, bespeaking subscriptions. Mrs. +Montagu cautioned her not to let her own generous +nature deceive her as to the character and temper of +her beneficiary. “It has sometimes happened to me,” +she writes, “that, by an endeavor to encourage talents +and cherish virtue, by driving from them the terrifying +spectre of pale poverty, I have introduced a legion of +little demons: vanity, luxury, idleness, and pride, have +entered the cottage the moment poverty vanished. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_157' name='page_157'></a>157</span> +However, I am sure despair is never a good counsellor.”</p> +<p>For thirteen months, Miss More’s time was largely +occupied in the woman’s service, and the result of +her efforts was the realization of a sum exceeding +three thousand dollars, which was invested for the +woman’s benefit under the trusteeship of Mrs. Montagu +and Miss More. The result is made known in a +letter from the latter to the former. “I am come to +the postscript, without having found courage to tell you, +what I am sure you will hear with pain; at least it +gives <i>me</i> infinite pain to write it. I mean the open +and notorious ingratitude of our milk-woman. There +is hardly a species of slander the poor, unhappy creature +does not propagate against me, because I have +called her a <i>milk-woman</i>, and because I have placed +the money in the funds, instead of letting her spend it. +I confess my weakness; it goes to my heart, not for +my own sake, but for the sake of our common nature. +So much for my <i>inward</i> feelings; as to my <i>active</i> resentment, +I am trying to get a place for her husband, +and am endeavoring to increase the sum I have raised +for her. Do not let this harden <i>your</i> heart or mine +against any future object. ‘Do good for its own sake’ +is a beautiful maxim.” The milk-woman presently put +her slanders into a printed shape; and Mrs. Montagu, +on reading the libel, found one thing Miss More’s letter +had not prepared her for. Here is her comment: +“Mrs. Yeardsley’s conceit that <i>you can envy her talents</i> +gives me comfort, for, as it convinces me she is mad, +I build upon it a hope that she is not guilty in the +All-seeing Eye.” The last allusion which Miss More +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_158' name='page_158'></a>158</span> +herself makes to the behavior of “Lactilla” is on the +occasion of a second publication of hers, in which the +generous patroness was again, after a lapse of two +years, maligned and insulted with a cool bitterness +that may well be called diabolical, and is in these +words, addressing Horace Walpole: “Do, dear sir, +join me in sincere compassion, without one atom +of resentment. If I wanted to punish an enemy, it +should be by fastening on him the trouble of constantly +hating somebody.” Mrs. Montagu and Miss More +resisted with exemplary patience the woman’s violent +importunities to be put in possession of the principal, +as well as interest, of her little fortune, fearing that it +would be consumed in those vices to which it was +apparent she was addicted. At length, they gave over +the trust to a respectable lawyer, who transferred it to +a merchant of Bristol; and he was soon harassed into +the relinquishment of the whole concern.</p> +<p>In the year 1792, affairs wore a very gloomy and +threatening aspect in England. French revolutionary +and atheistical principles seemed to be spreading wide +their destructive influence. Indefatigable pains were +taken, not only to agitate and mislead, but to corrupt +and poison, the minds of the populace. At this crisis, +letters poured in upon Miss More, from persons of +eminence, earnestly calling upon her to produce some +little tract which might serve to counteract these pernicious +efforts. The intimate knowledge she had shown +of human nature, and the lively and clear style of her +writings, which made them attractive, pointed her out +as the proper person for such an effort. Though she +declined an open attempt to stem the mighty torrent, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_159' name='page_159'></a>159</span> +which she thought a work beyond her powers, she +yet felt it to be her duty to try them in secret, and, +in a few hours, composed the dialogue of “Village +Politics, by Will Chip.” The more completely to +keep the author unknown, it was sent to a new publisher. +In a few days, every post from London brought +her a present of this admirable little tract, with urgent +entreaties that she would use every possible means of +disseminating it, as the strongest antidote that could be +administered to the prevailing poison. It flew with a +rapidity almost incredible into the remotest parts of +the kingdom. Government distributed many thousands. +Numerous patriotic associations printed large +editions; and in London only, many hundred thousands +were distributed.</p> +<p>Internal evidence betrayed the secret of the authorship; +and, when the truth came out, innumerable +were the thanks and congratulations which bore cordial +testimony to the merit of a performance, by +which the tact and intelligence of a single female +had turned the tide of misguided opinion. Many +affirmed that it contributed essentially to prevent a +revolution; so true was the touch, and so masterly the +delineation, which brought out, in all its relief, the +ludicrous and monstrous cheat, whereby appetite, selfishness, +and animal force, were attempted to be imposed +under the form of liberty, equality, and imprescriptible +right.</p> +<p>The success of “Village Politics” encouraged Miss +More to venture on a more extensive undertaking. +The institution of Sunday schools, which had enabled +multitudes to read, threatened to be a curse instead of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_160' name='page_160'></a>160</span> +a blessing; for, while no healthy food was furnished for +their minds, the friends of infidelity and vice carried +their exertions so far as to load asses with their pernicious +pamphlets, and to get them dropped, not only +in cottages and in the highways, but into mines and +coal-pits. Sermons and catechisms were already furnished +in abundance; but the enemy made use of the +alluring vehicles of novels, tales, and songs, and she +thought it right to meet them with their own weapons.</p> +<p>She therefore determined to produce three tracts +every month, written in a lively manner, under the +name of the “Cheap Repository.” The success surpassed +her most sanguine expectations. Two millions +were sold in the first year—a circumstance, perhaps, +new in the annals of printing. But this very success, +she tells us, threatened to be her ruin; for, in order +to supplant the trash, it was necessary to undersell it, +thus incurring a certain loss. This, however, was met +by a subscription on the part of the friends of good +order and morals.</p> +<p>The exertion which it required to produce these +tracts, to organize her plan, and to conduct a correspondence +with the committees formed in various +parts of the kingdom, materially undermined her +health. She continued them, however, for three years. +“It has been,” she writes, “no small support to me, +that my plan met with the warm protection of so many +excellent persons. They would have me believe that +a very formidable riot among the colliers was prevented +by my ballad of ‘The Riot.’ The plan was +settled; they were resolved to work no more; to +attack the mills first, and afterwards the gentry. A +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_161' name='page_161'></a>161</span> +gentleman gained their confidence, and a few hundreds +were distributed, and sung with the effect, they say, +mentioned above—a fresh proof by what weak instruments +evils are now and then prevented. The +leading tract for the next month is the bad economy of +the poor. You, my dear madam, will smile to see +your friend figuring away in the new character of a +cook furnishing receipts for cheap dishes. It is not, +indeed; a very brilliant career; but I feel that the value +of a thing lies so much more in its usefulness than its +splendor, that I think I should derive more gratification +from being able to lower the price of bread, than from +having written the Iliad.”</p> +<p>That Miss More’s efforts in behalf of virtue should +be opposed by those against whom they were aimed, +will not surprise us. But she was attacked from a +quarter whence she had a right to expect sympathy +and support. The nature of the attack will be learned +from a letter written some years afterwards: “I will +say, in a few words, that two Jacobin and infidel +curates, poor and ambitious, formed the design of +attracting notice and getting preferment by attacking +some charity schools—which, with no small labor, I +have carried on in this country for near twenty years—as +seminaries of vice, sedition, and disaffection. At +this distance of time,—for it is now ended in their +disgrace and shame,—it will make you smile when I +tell you a few of the charges brought against me, viz., +that I hired two men to assassinate one of these clergymen; +that I was actually taken up for seditious practices; +that I was with Hadfield in his attack on the +king’s life. At the same time they declared—mark +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_162' name='page_162'></a>162</span> +the consistency—that I was in the pay of the government, +and the grand instigator of the war, by my mischievous +pamphlets. That wicked men should invent +this, is not so strange as that they should have found +magazines, reviews, and pamphleteers, to support +them. My declared resolution never to defend myself +certainly encouraged them to go on. How thankful +am I that I kept that resolution! though the grief and +astonishment excited by the combination against me +nearly cost me my life.”</p> +<p>There is not space to go at large into an account +of this persecution, which was continued for several +years. The most inveterate of her enemies was the +curate of her own parish, who was named Bere, and the +most distressing result to herself was being obliged to +discontinue the school at that place. But, whilst laboring +so earnestly for the poor and the humble, Miss +More was still mindful of the wants of the higher +classes, and, in the midst of her anxiety and distress, +which very seriously affected her health, she found +time to compose the “Strictures on Female Education,” +for their benefit. All her practical admonitions, +and all her delineations of female excellence, were +afterwards brought together in the character of Lucilla, +in the novel of “Cœlebs in Search of a Wife,” who +is a true representative of feminine excellence within +the legitimate range of allotted duties. She did not +venture on publishing this work without much anxious +hesitation. “I wrote it,” she says, “to amuse the +languor of disease. I thought there were already good +books enough in the world for good people, but that +there was a large class of readers, whose wants had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_163' name='page_163'></a>163</span> +not been attended to—the subscribers to the circulating +library. A little to raise the tone of that mart +of mischief, and to counteract its corruptions, I thought +an object worth attempting.” It was published without +her name, and though many at once recognized the +style, she herself did not acknowledge it till it had +passed through many editions. It excited such immediate +and universal attention, that, in a few days after +its first appearance, she received notice to prepare for +a second edition; and shortly afterwards she was followed +to Dawlish, whither she had gone to try the +effect of repose and the sea air, in restoring her +health, by the eleventh edition.</p> +<p>Her works at an early period were duly estimated +in the United States, and of the “Cœlebs” thirty editions +had been issued before the author’s death. It is not a +little creditable to the public taste, that a work so full +of plain and practical truth should be so well received. +In “Cœlebs,” as well as in some of her smaller productions, +Miss More evinces her power of invention, and +gives proof that, had she chosen to employ fiction as +the vehicle of instruction, her imagination would have +afforded her abundant resources; but habit and the +bias of her mind led her in another course: a certain +substantiality of purpose, a serious devotion to decided +and direct beneficence, an active and almost restless +principle of philanthropy, were the great distinctions +of her character.</p> +<p>When the education of the Princess Charlotte became +a subject of serious attention and inquiry, the advice +and assistance of Miss More were requested by the +queen. Bishop Porteus strenuously advised that the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_164' name='page_164'></a>164</span> +education should be intrusted to her; but, when the +latter required that the <i>entire</i> direction should be given +to her charge, this was thought, by those in power, to +be too great a confidence. They were willing to +engage her in a subordinate capacity; but this she +declined, and so the negotiation ended. Her ideas on +the subject were given to the world under the title of +“Hints for forming the Character of a Young Princess”—a +book which subsequently was a great favorite +with her for whose benefit it was intended, and +doubtless contributed to the formation of those virtues +and principles which made her death so much +lamented.</p> +<p>In the country Miss More had hoped to find retirement. +But Barley Wood—a place to which she had +removed, about one mile from Cowslip Green—was +any thing but a hermitage. “Though,” she says, “I +neither return visits nor give invitations, except when +quite confined by sickness, I think I never saw more +people, known and unknown, in my gayest days. I +never had so many cares and duties imposed upon me +as now in sickness and old age. I know not how to +help it. If my guests are old, I see them out of +respect, and in the hope of receiving some good; if +young, I hope I may do them a little good; if they +come from a distance, I feel as if I ought to see them +on that account; if near home, my neighbors would +be jealous of my seeing strangers, and excluding +them.” Her epistolary labors were enormous. She +laid it down as a rule never to refuse or delay answering +any application for epistolary advice, enduring the +incessant interruptions with indefatigable kindness.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_165' name='page_165'></a>165</span></div> +<p>In spite, however, of all the interruptions of company +and of sickness; for, as she tells us, “From early +infancy to late old age, her life was a successive scene +of visitation and restoration,” she found time and +strength to compose a series of works on “Morals,”—the +last of the three being produced in the seventy-fifth +year of her age.</p> +<p>In 1828, Miss More was subjected to the severest +trial, perhaps, of her life. After the death of her +sister Martha, who had been the manager of the +domestic economy of the sisterhood, affairs at Barley +Wood got into sad confusion. Dishonest and dissolute +servants wasted her substance. After trying in vain to +correct the evil by mild remonstrance, she sank quietly +under what seemed inevitable, and determined to take +the infliction as a chastisement to which it was her duty +to submit. At length, however, her friends interposed, +and represented to her the danger of her appearing as +the patroness of vice, and thereby lessening the influence +of her writings. It was determined that her establishment +should be broken up. At a bleak season +of the year, on a cold and inclement day, after a long +confinement to her chamber, she removed to Clifton. +From her apartment she was attended by several of +the principal gentlemen of the neighborhood, who had +come to protect her from the approach of any thing +that might discompose her. She descended the stairs +with a placid countenance, and walked silently for a +few minutes round the lower room, the walls of which +were covered with the portraits of her old and dear +friends, who had successively gone before her. As she +was helped into the carriage, she cast one pensive, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_166' name='page_166'></a>166</span> +parting look upon her bowers, saying, “I am driven, +like Eve, out of paradise; but not, like Eve, by +angels.” From the shock of the discovery of the misconduct +of her servants, Miss More never recovered. +After her removal to Clifton, her health was in a very +precarious state. To her friends and admirers it was +painful to see her great and brilliant talents descending +to the level of mere ordinary persons; but the +good, the kind, the beneficent qualities of her mind +suffered no diminution or abatement. So long as +her intellectual faculties remained but moderately impaired, +her wonted cheerfulness and playfulness of +disposition did not forsake her; and no impatient or +querulous expressions escaped her lips, even in moments +of painful suffering. Thus free from the infirmities +of temper, which often render old age +unamiable and unhappy, she was also spared many +of the bodily infirmities which often accompany +length of years. To the very last her eye was not +dim; she could read with ease, and without spectacles, +the smallest print. Her bearing was almost unimpaired, +and, until very near the close of her life, her +features were not wrinkled or uncomely. Her death-bed +was attended with few of the pains and infirmities +which are almost inseparable from sinking nature. +She looked serene, and her breathing was as gentle as +that of an infant in sleep. Her pulse waxed fainter +and fainter, and her spirit passed quietly away on the +7th of September, 1833.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_167' name='page_167'></a>167</span> +<a name='MRS_BARBAULD' id='MRS_BARBAULD'></a> +<h2>MRS. BARBAULD.</h2> +</div> +<p>Anna Letitia Barbauld, a name long dear to the +admirers of genius and the lovers of virtue, was born +at the village of Kibworth Harcourt, in Leicestershire, +on June 20th, 1743. She was the eldest child and +only daughter of John Aikin, D.D., and Jane, his wife, +daughter of the Rev. John Jennings, of Kibworth, and +descended by her mother from the ancient family of +Wingate, of Harlington, in Bedfordshire.</p> +<p>That quickness of apprehension by which she was +eminently distinguished, manifested itself from early +infancy. Her mother writes thus respecting her in +a letter which is still preserved: “I once, indeed, +knew a little girl who was as eager to learn as her +instructors could be to teach her; and who, at two +years old, could read sentences and little stories in her +wise book, roundly, without spelling, and, in half a +year more, could read as well as most women; but I +never knew such another, and, I believe, never shall.”</p> +<p>Her education was entirely domestic, and principally +conducted by her excellent mother, a lady whose +manners were polished by the early introduction to +good company which her family connections had procured +her; whilst her mind had been cultivated, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_168' name='page_168'></a>168</span> +her principles formed, partly by the instructions of +religious and enlightened parents, and partly by the +society of the Rev. Dr. Doddridge, who was for some +years domesticated under the parental roof.</p> +<p>In the middle of the last century, a strong prejudice +still existed in England against imparting to females +any degree of classical learning; and the father of +Miss Aikin, proud as he justly was of her uncommon +capacity, long refused to gratify her earnest desire of +being initiated in this kind of knowledge. At length, +however, she in some degree overcame his scruples; +and, with his assistance, she enabled herself to read the +Latin authors with pleasure and advantage; nor did +she rest satisfied without gaining some acquaintance +with the Greek.</p> +<p>The obscure village of Kibworth was unable to +afford her a suitable companion of her own sex: her +brother, the late Dr. Aikin, was more than three years +her junior; and as her father was, at this period, the +master of a school for boys, it might have been apprehended +that conformity of pursuits, as well as age, +would tend too nearly to assimilate her with the youth +of the ruder sex, by whom she was surrounded. But +the vigilance of her mother effectually obviated this +danger, by instilling into her a double portion of bashfulness +and maidenly reserve; and she was accustomed +to ascribe an uneasy sense of constraint in +mixed society, which she could never entirely shake +off, to the strictness and seclusion in which it had thus +become her fate to be educated.</p> +<p>Her recollections of childhood and early youth were, +in fact, not associated with much of the pleasure and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_169' name='page_169'></a>169</span> +gayety usually attendant upon that period of life; but +it must be regarded as a circumstance favorable, rather +than otherwise, to the unfolding of her genius, to be +left thus to find, or make, in solitude, her own objects +of interest or pursuit. The love of rural nature sank +deep in her heart. Her vivid fancy excited itself to +color, animate, and diversify, all the objects which surrounded +her; the few but choice authors of her father’s +library, which she read and re-read, had leisure to +make their full impression,—to mould her sentiments, +and to form her taste. The spirit of devotion, early inculcated +upon her as a duty, opened to her, by degrees, +an exhaustless source of tender and sublime delight; +and while yet a child, she was surprised to find herself +a poet.</p> +<p>Just at the period when longer seclusion might have +proved seriously injurious to her spirits, an invitation +given to her learned and exemplary father to undertake +the office of classical tutor to a highly respectable +academy at Warrington, in Lancashire, was the fortunate +means of transplanting her to a more varied and +animating scene. This removal took place in 1758, +when Miss Aikin had just attained the age of fifteen; +and the fifteen succeeding years, passed by her at +Warrington, comprehended probably the happiest, as +well as the most brilliant, portion of her existence. +She was at this time possessed of great beauty, distinct +traces of which she retained to the latest period of her +life. Her person was slender, her complexion fair, +with the bloom of perfect health: her features were +regular and elegant; and her light blue eyes beamed +with the light of wit and fancy.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_170' name='page_170'></a>170</span></div> +<p>A solitary education had not produced on her its +most frequent ill effects, pride and self-importance; +the reserve of her manners proceeded solely from +bashfulness, for her temper inclined her strongly to +friendship, and to social pleasures; and her active imagination, +which represented all objects tinged with +hues “unborrowed of the sun,” served as a charm +against that disgust with common characters and daily +incidents, which so frequently renders the conscious +possessor of superior talents at once unamiable and +unhappy.</p> +<p>Nor was she now in want of congenial associates. +Warrington academy included among its tutors names +eminent both in science and literature; with several +of these, and especially with Dr. Priestley and Dr. +Canfield and their families, she formed sincere and +lasting friendships. The elder and more accomplished +among the students composed an agreeable part of the +same society; and its animation was increased by a +mixture of young ladies, either residents in the town, +or occasional visitors, several of whom were equally +distinguished for personal charms, for amiable manners, +and cultivated minds. The rising institution, +which flourished for several years in high reputation, +diffused a classic air over all connected with it. Miss +Aikin, as was natural, took a warm interest in its success; +and no academic has ever celebrated his <i>alma +mater</i> in nobler strains, or with a more filial affection, +than she has manifested in that portion of her early +and beautiful poem, “The Invitation,” where her +theme is this “nursery of men for future years.”</p> +<p>About the close of the year 1771, her brother, after +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_171' name='page_171'></a>171</span> +several years of absence, returned to establish himself +in his profession at Warrington—an event equally +welcome to her feelings and propitious to her literary +progress. In him she possessed a friend with discernment +to recognize the stamp of genius in her productions, +and anticipate their fame, combined with zeal +and courage sufficient to vanquish her reluctance +to appear before the public in the character of an +author. By his persuasion and assistance, her poems +were selected, revised, and arranged for publication; +and when all these preparations were completed, finding +that she still hesitated and lingered,—like the +parent bird, who pushes off its young to their first +flight, he procured the paper, and set the press to +work on his own authority. The result more than +justified his confidence of her success; four editions +of the work were called for within the year of publication, +1773; compliments and congratulations poured +in from all quarters; and even the periodical critics +greeted her muse with nearly unmixed applause.</p> +<p>She was not permitted to repose upon her laurels. +Her brother, who possessed all the activity and spirit +of literary enterprise, in which she was deficient, now +urged her to collect her prose pieces, and to join him +in forming a small volume, which appeared also in the +year 1773, under the title of “Miscellaneous Pieces in +Prose, by J. and A. L. Aikin.” These likewise met +with much notice and admiration, and have been +several times reprinted. The authors did not think +proper to distinguish their respective contributions, and +several of the pieces have, in consequence, been generally +misappropriated. The fragment of “Sir Bertrand,” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_172' name='page_172'></a>172</span> +in particular, though alien from the character +of that brilliant and airy imagination which was never +conversant with terror, and rarely with pity, has been +repeatedly ascribed to Mrs. Barbauld, even in print.</p> +<p>Having thus laid the foundation of a lasting reputation +in literature, Miss Aikin might have been expected +to proceed with vigor in rearing the superstructure; +and the world awaited with impatience the +result of her further efforts. But an event, the most +important of her life, was about to subject her to new +influences, new duties, to alter her station, her course +of life, and to modify even the bent of her mind. +This event was her marriage, which took place in +May, 1774.</p> +<p>Her husband, the Rev. Rochemont Barbauld, was +a dissenting minister, descended from a family of +French Protestants, who had taken refuge in England +in the reign of Louis XIV. Mr. Barbauld was educated +in the academy at Warrington, and, at the time +of his marriage, had been recently appointed to the +charge of a dissenting congregation at Palgrave, in +Suffolk, near Diss, in Norfolk, where he had announced +his intention of opening a boarding-school +for boys. This undertaking proved speedily successful—a +result which must in great part be attributed, +first to the reputation, and afterwards to the active +exertions, of Mrs. Barbauld. She particularly superintended +the departments of geography and English +composition, which latter she taught by a method +then unusual, but which has since been brought much +into practice. Her plan, according to the statement +of Mr. William Taylor, of Norwich, one of her first +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_173' name='page_173'></a>173</span> +pupils, was, to read a fable, a short story, or a moral +essay, aloud, and then to send them back into the +school-room to write it out on slates in their own +words. Each exercise was separately examined by +her: the faults of grammar were obliterated, the vulgarisms +were chastised, the idle epithets were cancelled, +and a distinct reason was always assigned for +every correction, so that the arts of inditing and criticising +were in some degree learnt together. Mrs. +Barbauld also instructed the pupils in the art of declamation; +and the pleasing accomplishments of good +reading and graceful speaking have probably never +been taught with more assiduity or with better success +than by herself. After a few years thus devoted, Mrs. +Barbauld was solicited to receive several little boys as +her own peculiar pupils; and among this number may +be mentioned Lord Denman, the present Chief Justice +of England, and the celebrated Sir William Gell. It +was for the use of these, her almost infant scholars, +that she composed her “Hymns in Prose for Children.”</p> +<p>In 1775, Mrs. Barbauld published a small volume +entitled “Devotional Pieces, compiled from the Psalms +of David, with Thoughts on the Devotional Taste, and +on Sects and Establishments.” About the same time, +she wrote that admirable little volume, “Early Lessons,” +a publication which has ever since been a +standard work, and, though frequently imitated, yet +remains unrivalled amidst all its competitors.</p> +<p>This little volume was written for the use of one of +her nephews, who had been adopted by Mr. Barbauld +and herself, in consequence of their having no child of +their own. In the present day, when parents are in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_174' name='page_174'></a>174</span> +possession of the labors of many clever persons for +aiding the task of early instruction, it is difficult to +form a correct estimate of the value of Mrs. Barbauld’s +“Early Lessons.” At the time of its first appearance, +as at present, there was a multitude of books +professedly written for children, but few adapted to +the comprehension of a child of very tender age, that +were not at the same time injurious from their folly +or puerility.</p> +<p>It would seem that the value of a book which was +not only free from these objections, but calculated to +impress upon the mind of the child just ideas and +noble principles, could not fail to be appreciated by +every parent and teacher; but there are those who +maintain that the reformation begun by Mrs. Barbauld +is an evil. It would seem that, in putting “Mother +Goose’s Melodies,” “Jack the Giant-Killer,” and other +works of the kind, into the hands of children, as soon +as they begin to read, we are likely to distort their +minds by grotesque representations, which may exert +a lasting and pernicious influence on their understandings; +that we set about teaching what is false, and +what we must immediately seek to unteach; that we +inculcate the idea upon the young mind that books +are vehicles of fiction and incongruity, and not of +truth and reason.</p> +<p>If the works alluded to produce any effects, they +must be of this nature; and on some minds they have +probably had a fatal influence. Yet such is the prejudice +engendered by early associations, that many grave +persons, whose first reading was of the kind we have +mentioned, lament the repudiation of “Mother Goose” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_175' name='page_175'></a>175</span> +and her kindred train, and deem it a mistake to use +books in their place founded on the idea of Mrs. Barbauld’s +works—that truth is the proper aliment of +the infant mind, as well calculated to stimulate the +faculties as fiction, and that its exhibition is the only +safe and honest mode of dealing with those whose +education is intrusted to our care.</p> +<p>The success of the school at Palgrave remained +unimpaired; but the unceasing call for mental exertion, +on the part of the conductors, which its duties +required, so much injured their health, that, after +eleven years of unremitting labor, an interval of +complete relaxation became necessary; and Mrs. +Barbauld accompanied her husband, in the autumn +of 1785, to Switzerland, and afterwards to the south +of France. In the following year they returned to +England, and, early in 1787, took up their residence +in Hampstead, where, for several years, Mr. Barbauld +received a few pupils.</p> +<p>In 1790, Mrs. Barbauld published an eloquent and +indignant address to the successful opposers of the +repeal of the corporation and test acts. In the following +year was written her poetical epistle to Mr. +Wilberforce, on the rejection of the bill for abolishing +the slave trade. In 1792, she published “Remarks on +Mr. Gilbert Wakefield’s Inquiry into the Expediency +and Propriety of Public or Social Worship;” and in +1793, she produced a work of a kind very unusual +for a female—a sermon, entitled “The Sins of Government +Sins of the Nation.” In all these works Mrs. +Barbauld showed those powers of mind, that ardent +love for civil and religious liberty, and that genuine +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_176' name='page_176'></a>176</span> +and practical piety, by which her life was distinguished, +and for which her memory will long be held in reverence. +In particular, her “Remarks on Mr. Wakefield’s +Inquiry” may be noticed as being one of the best +and most eloquent, and yet sober, appeals in favor of +public worship that has ever appeared.</p> +<p>Our youthful readers will be pleased to learn that +Mrs. Barbauld wrote some of the articles in that entertaining +work by her brother, Dr. Aikin, entitled +“Evenings at Home.” These contributions were fourteen +in number. It would be useless to distinguish +them here, or to say more concerning them than that +they are equal in merit to the other parts of the volumes. +These papers, trifling in amount, but not in +value, comprise all that Mrs. Barbauld published from +1793 to 1795, when she superintended an edition of +Akenside’s “Pleasures of Imagination,” to which she +prefixed a critical essay. In 1797, she brought out an +edition of Collins’s “Odes,” with a similar introduction. +These essays are written with elegance, and display +much taste and critical acuteness.</p> +<p>Mr. Barbauld became, in 1802, pastor of a Unitarian +congregation at Newington Green, and at this time +he changed his residence to Stoke Newington. The +chief inducement to this removal was the desire felt +by Mrs. Barbauld and her brother to pass the remainder +of their lives in each other’s society. This wish +was gratified during twenty years, and was interrupted +only by death. In 1804, she published a selection of +the papers contained in the Spectator, Guardian, Tatler +and Freeholder, with a preliminary essay, in which +is given an instructive account of the state of society +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_177' name='page_177'></a>177</span> +at the time the papers originally appeared, and of the +objects at which they aimed. This essay has been +much admired for its elegance and acuteness. In +the same year, Mrs. Barbauld prepared for publication +a selection from the correspondence of Richardson, +the novelist, prefixing a biographical notice of him, +and a critical examination of his works.</p> +<p>About this time, Mrs. Barbauld’s husband, to whom +she had been united for more than thirty years, fell into +a state of nervous weakness, and at last died, in November, +1808. From the dejection occasioned by this +loss, Mrs. Barbauld sought relief in literary occupation, +and undertook the task of editing a collection of the +British novelists, which was published in 1810. To +these volumes she contributed an introductory essay, +and furnished biographical and critical notices of the life +and writings of each author; these were written with +her usual taste and judgment. In the next year, she +composed and published the longest and most highly-finished +of her poems, entitled “Eighteen Hundred and +Eleven.” The time at which this poem appeared was +by many persons looked upon with gloomy forebodings, +and the matters of which it treats were considered as +indicative of the waning fortunes of Great Britain. It +was perhaps owing to the spirit of melancholy prediction +by which it is pervaded, that the poem was not +received by the public as it deserved. It is written +throughout with great power and in harmonious language; +its descriptions are characterized by deep +feeling and truth, and its warnings are conveyed with +an earnestness which is the best evidence of the sincerity +of the author.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_178' name='page_178'></a>178</span></div> +<p>The unfair construction applied to her motives in +writing this poem probably prevented Mrs. Barbauld +from appearing again as an author. Her efforts were +confined to the humble task of administering to the +gratification of a circle of private friends. Although +arrived at years which are assigned as the natural +limit of human life, her fancy was still bright, and she +continued to give evidence by occasional compositions +of the unimpaired energy of her mind. Her spirits +were greatly tried, during the latter years of her life, +by the loss of her brother, who died in 1822, and of +several cherished companions of her early days, who +quickly followed. Her constitution, naturally excellent, +slowly gave way under an asthmatic complaint, and on +the 9th of March, 1825, after only a few days of serious +illness, she died, in the eighty-second year of her age.</p> +<p>In domestic and social life, Mrs. Barbauld was characterized +by strong sense, deep feeling, high moral +principle, and a rational but ardent piety. She passed +through a lengthened term of years, free from the +annoyance of personal enmities, and rich in the +esteem and affection of all with whom she was connected. +The cause of rational education is more indebted +to her than to any individual of modern times, +inasmuch as she was the leader in that reformation +which has resulted in substituting the use of truth and +reason for folly and fiction, in books for the nursery. +She has also shown that a talent for writing for youth +is not incompatible with powers of the highest order. +Her epistle to Mr. Wilberforce is full of lofty sentiment, +and, at the same time, is most felicitously executed. +We give a specimen of her writing in a lighter +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_179' name='page_179'></a>179</span> +vein, which has been justly celebrated for its truth +and humor.</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<h3>“WASHING-DAY.</h3> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>“The muses are turned gossips; they have lost</p> +<p>The buskined step, and clear, high-sounding phrase,—</p> +<p>Language of gods. Come, then, domestic muse,</p> +<p>In slip-shod measure, loosely prattling on</p> +<p>Of farm, or orchard, pleasant curds and cream,</p> +<p>Or drowning flies, or shoes lost in the mire,</p> +<p>By little whimpering boy, with rueful face;</p> +<p>Come, muse, and sing the dreaded washing-day.</p> +<p>Ye who beneath the yoke of wedlock bend</p> +<p>With bowed soul, full well ye ken the day</p> +<p>Which week, smooth gliding after week, brings on</p> +<p>Too soon; for to that day nor peace belongs,</p> +<p>Nor comfort. Ere the first gray streak of dawn,</p> +<p>The red-armed washers come and chase repose;</p> +<p>Nor pleasant smile, nor quaint device of mirth,</p> +<p>E’er visited that day: the very cat,</p> +<p>From the wet kitchen scared, and reeking hearth,</p> +<p>Visits the parlor—an unwonted guest.</p> +<p>The silent breakfast meal is soon despatched,</p> +<p>Uninterrupted save by anxious looks</p> +<p>Cast at the lowering sky, if sky should lower.</p> +<p>From that last evil, O, preserve us, heavens!</p> +<p>For, should the skies pour down, adieu to all</p> +<p>Remains of quiet: then expect to hear</p> +<p>Of sad disasters—dirt and gravel stains</p> +<p>Hard to efface, and loaded lines at once</p> +<p>Snapped short, and linen-horse by dog thrown down,</p> +<p>And all the petty miseries of life.</p> +<p>Saints have been calm while stretched upon the rack,</p> +<p>And Guatimozin smiled on burning coals;</p> +<p>But never yet did housewife notable</p> +<p>Greet with a smile a rainy washing-day.</p> +<p>But grant the welkin fair; require not, thou</p> +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_180' name='page_180'></a>180</span></p> +<p>Who call’st thyself perchance the master there,</p> +<p>Or study swept, or nicely-dusted coat,</p> +<p>Or usual ’tendance; ask not, indiscreet,</p> +<p>Thy stockings mended, though the yawning rents</p> +<p>Gape wide as Erebus; nor hope to find</p> +<p>Some snug recess impervious! should’st thou try</p> +<p>Th’ accustomed garden walks, thine eye shall rue</p> +<p>The budding fragrance of thy tender shrubs,</p> +<p>Myrtle or rose, all crushed beneath the weight</p> +<p>Of coarse checked apron, with impatient hand</p> +<p>Twitched off when showers impend; or crossing lines</p> +<p>Shall mar thy musings, as the cold, wet sheet</p> +<p>Flaps in thy face abrupt. Woe to the friend</p> +<p>Whose evil stars have urged him forth to claim,</p> +<p>On such a day, the hospitable rites!</p> +<p>Looks blank at best, and stinted courtesy,</p> +<p>Shall he receive. Vainly he feeds his hopes</p> +<p>With dinner of roast chickens, savory pie,</p> +<p>Or tart, or pudding: pudding he nor tart</p> +<p>That day shall eat; nor, though the husband try,</p> +<p>Mending what can’t be helped, to kindle mirth</p> +<p>From cheer deficient, shall his consort’s brow,</p> +<p>Clear up propitious;—the unlucky guest</p> +<p>In silence dines, and early shrinks away.</p> +<p>I well remember, when a child, the awe</p> +<p>This day struck into me; for then the maids—</p> +<p>I scarce knew why—looked cross, and drove me from them;</p> +<p>Nor soft caress could I obtain, nor hope</p> +<p>Usual indulgences—jelly or creams,</p> +<p>Relic of costly suppers, and set by</p> +<p>For me, their petted one; or buttered toast,</p> +<p>When butter was forbid; or thrilling tale</p> +<p>Of ghost, or witch, or murder: so I went</p> +<p>And sheltered me beside the parlor fire:</p> +<p>There my dear grandmother, eldest of forms,</p> +<p>Tended the little ones, and watched from harm,</p> +<p>Anxiously fond, though oft her spectacles</p> +<p>With elfin cunning hid, and oft the pins</p> +<p>Drawn from her ravelled stockings, might have soured</p> +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_181' name='page_181'></a>181</span></p> +<p>One less indulgent.</p> +<p>At intervals my mother’s voice was heard,</p> +<p>Urging despatch: briskly the work went on,</p> +<p>All hands employed to wash, to rinse, to wring,</p> +<p>To fold, and starch, and clap, and iron, and plait.</p> +<p>Then would I sit me down, and ponder much</p> +<p>Why washings were. Sometimes through hollow bowl</p> +<p>Of pipe amused we blew, and sent aloft</p> +<p>The floating bubbles; little dreaming then</p> +<p>To see, Montgolfier, thy silken ball</p> +<p>Ride buoyant through the clouds—so near approach</p> +<p>The sports of children and the toils of men.</p> +<p>Earth, air, and sky, and ocean, hath its bubbles,</p> +<p>And verse is one of them—this most of all.”</p> +</div></div> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_182' name='page_182'></a>182</span> +<a name='MADAME_DE_GENLIS' id='MADAME_DE_GENLIS'></a> +<h2>MADAME DE GENLIS.</h2> +</div> +<p>This celebrated writer, whose maiden name was +Stephanie Felicité Ducrest de St. Aubin, has left a +voluminous memoir of her life and times, written at +the age of eighty, which is interesting for the portraits +of celebrated characters, in which it abounds, as well +as the delineations it affords of her education, her feelings, +and her experience. Of this we have made the +following abstract, generally in her own words, which +will present the leading incidents of her eventful +career:—</p> +<p>“I was born,” says she, “on the 25th of January, +1746, on a little estate in Burgundy, near Autun, +called Champcéri. I was born so small and so weakly +that they would not venture to put me in clothes; and, +a few moments after my birth, I was on the point of +losing my life. I had been placed in a down pillow, +of which, to keep me warm, the two sides were folded +over me and fastened with a pin; and, thus wrapped +up, I was laid upon an arm-chair in the room. The +judge of the district, who was almost blind, came to +pay his visit of compliment to my father; and as, in +his country fashion, he separated his huge flaps to sit +down, some one saw that he was going to place himself +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_183' name='page_183'></a>183</span> +in the arm-chair where I was. Luckily, he was +prevented from sitting down, and I escaped being +crushed to death.</p> +<p>“I experienced in my childhood a series of unfortunate +accidents. At eighteen months old, I fell into +a pond, out of which I was extricated with great difficulty: +at the age of five, I had a fall, and received a +severe wound on the head: as a great deal of blood +flowed from it, it was thought unnecessary to bleed +me; but a deposit, formed in the head, burst at the +ear after forty days, and, contrary to expectation, I was +saved. A short time afterwards, I fell into the kitchen +fire: this accident did not injure my face, but there +are to this day two marks of it on my body. Thus +often was endangered, in its earliest years, that life +which was afterwards to prove so checkered.</p> +<p>“My father sold the estate of Champcéri when I +was two years old. He had a house at Cosne, to +which he removed, and passed three years there. +The recollection of that house, of its superb garden, +and beautiful terrace, upon the Loire, and of the +chateau of Mienne, a league from Cosne, where we +went so often, remains indelibly engraved on my +memory. Passing by that road, thirty-five years +after, I instantly recognized the chateau, though I +was but five years old when we quitted Cosne. My +father purchased the marquisate of St. Aubin, an estate +most desirable from its situation, its extent, and its +titular and seigniorial rights. I have never thought, +without a feeling of tenderness, of this spot, once so +dear to me, in which six years of innocence and happiness +glided away.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_184' name='page_184'></a>184</span></div> +<p>“When we were once fixed at St. Aubin, my education +began to be attended to. Mademoiselle Urgon, +the village schoolmistress, taught me to read. Having +an excellent memory, I learnt with great facility; and +at the end of six or seven months, I read with ease. +I was brought up with a brother fifteen months younger +than myself, of whom I was exceedingly fond; with +the exception of the hour set apart for reading, we +were allowed to play together all day long. We +passed part of the day in the court-yard, or in the +garden; and in the evening we played in the drawing-room.</p> +<p>“I was six years old when my brother was sent to +Paris, to the famous academy of M. Bertrand, the +most virtuous and best instructor of his time. It was +he who invented the method of learning to spell in six +weeks, by means of boxes full of counters. Two or +three months after the departure of my brother, my +mother made a journey to Paris, and took me with +her.</p> +<p>“I was not much pleased with Paris, and, for the first +few days of my stay there, I regretted St. Aubin bitterly. +I had two teeth pulled out; my clothes pinched +me terribly; my feet were imprisoned in tight shoes, +with which it was impossible for me to walk; I had a +multitude of curl papers put on my head; and I wore +a hoop, for the first time in my life. In order to get +rid of my country attitudes, I had an iron collar put +on my neck, and, as I squinted a little at times, I was +obliged to put on goggles as soon as I woke in the +morning; and these I wore four hours. I was, moreover, +not a little surprised when they talked of giving +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_185' name='page_185'></a>185</span> +me a master to teach me what I thought I knew well +enough already—to <i>walk</i>. Beside all this, I was +forbidden to run, to leap, or ask questions.</p> +<p>“All these painful constraints made such an impression +on me, that I have never forgotten them. +I have since faithfully depicted them in a little comedy +called ‘The Dove.’ But a great ceremony, and the +fine entertainments which followed it, soon made me +forget my little griefs. I had only been privately +christened; I was now baptized in public; my aunt, +Madame de Bellevau, was my godmother, and M. +Bouret, the farmer-general, my godfather. I received +some splendid presents; and I had, besides, plenty of +sweetmeats and playthings, and I soon recovered my +good-humor. I was taken also to the opera, which +delighted me beyond measure.</p> +<p>“My father had the utmost affection for me, but he +did not interfere with my education in any point but +one; he wished to make me a woman of firm mind, +and I was born with numberless little antipathies. I +had a horror of all insects, particularly of spiders and +toads. I was also afraid of mice, and he made me feed +and bring up one. I loved my father to excess, and +he had such an influence over me, that I never dared +to disobey him. He would frequently oblige me to +catch spiders with my fingers, and to hold toads in my +hands, and, at such times, though I felt as if the blood +had forsaken my veins, I was forced to obey. These +trials proved clearly to me that toads are not venomous; +but they powerfully contributed to weaken my +nerves, and have only augmented the antipathies which +they were intended to remove. They have, however, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_186' name='page_186'></a>186</span> +served to give me a habit of self-command, which of +itself is a great benefit.</p> +<p>“So passed several years. Mademoiselle de Mars, +a young woman from Brittany, had now the sole direction +of my studies, and she gave me also lessons in +singing, and on the harpsichord. I became attached to +her from the first, and passed nearly all my time with +her. I made great progress in my music, and we +rehearsed a great many little plays for our amusement. +Much applause was bestowed upon my performances, +except by Mademoiselle de Mars, who generally only +praised me for what belonged to my heart or character. +I led a charming life: in the morning I played on the +harpsichord; afterwards I studied my parts; then I +took my lesson in dancing and fencing, and then read +till dinner. After dinner, we read pious books, and +afterwards spent our time in amusements and walking.</p> +<p>“I will here give the history of what a woman never +forgets—the first passion she inspires. I was but a +child of eleven years and nine months, and very small +of my age; besides, I had a face and features so delicate, +that those who saw me for the first time never +supposed me older than eight or nine, at furthest; yet +a young man of eighteen became desperately in love +with me—the son of Dr. Pinot, one of the first physicians +at the baths of Bourbon-Lancey. He had performed +parts in our plays for two years.</p> +<p>“None of us suspected his folly, and certainly I had +not the slightest idea of it; when, one morning, after +a rehearsal, the young man came up to me, and, seizing +the moment when I was standing separate from the +other actors in the side scene, and with an air of wildness +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_187' name='page_187'></a>187</span> +in his looks, gave me a note, begging me, in a low +tone, to read it, and let no one see it. I took the note, +though much surprised, and he left me. Mademoiselle +de Mars soon after joined me. I put the note in my +pocket, and we went up stairs to our room. I hesitated +about showing her my note, as I had been +charged so strongly to show it to no one; but to keep +a secret with the friend I loved so dearly weighed +heavily upon my conscience; at the same time, my +curiosity was extreme.</p> +<p>“At last, Mademoiselle de Mars left me. I ran into +my cabinet, locked the door, and read the note, which +contained a serious declaration of love. My first +movement was to be excessively shocked that the son +of a physician—a person of no rank—should presume +to talk of love to me. I went immediately and +showed the note to my friend, who desired me to +carry it to my mother, which I did. The young man +was reprimanded by his father, as he deserved to be; +and he felt so much chagrin on the occasion, that he +enlisted in the army, and left the place. I afterwards +heard of him as having obtained his discharge, and +that he was married and happy, and an excellent +young man.</p> +<p>“Two months after this romantic flight, we went to +Paris. I confess, to my shame, that I quitted Burgundy +without regret; for childhood loves and requires +change. At Paris we found my aunt, the Countess de +Bellevau, and after a short time we took up our abode +with her. At her house I saw the celebrated author M. +Marmontel. He came to read her his ‘Tales.’ I was +present at the reading of one, called, I think, ‘The +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_188' name='page_188'></a>188</span> +Self-styled Philosopher,’ in which a fat president’s +wife, begrimmed with snuff, leads about in triumph this +pretended sage, with a rose-colored ribbon. Though +but twelve years old, I thought this story dull and +absurd, and I thought rightly. The author was far +from supposing that the little girl then before him +would one day write a critique on these tales, which +should throw him into transports of rage.</p> +<p>“At the close of the winter, we went to a country-house +of my aunt’s, which had a delightful garden +close to the forest of Vincennes. My brother, my +two cousins, and myself, performed little pieces, and +we had many little <i>fêtes</i> at which my brother and +myself sung duets. He was by no means as remarkable +a child as I was: he was shy, awkward, and of +an inconceivable simplicity: he had requested my +father in vain to let him use a gun; he was always +told that he must first acquire a knowledge of fencing, +for which he had not the slightest taste: he therefore +adopted the following expedient: he loaded a gun, +shut himself up in his room, and, in order to fire without +making a noise, he bethought him of thrusting the +barrel of the gun under the mattress of the bed. He +then fired in this prudent manner, set fire to the bed, +and was himself knocked down by the rebound. The +family hastily assembled, and discovered with surprise +this singular invention. The next summer we +spent at Passy, and in October returned to Paris.</p> +<p>“When I was fourteen years old, my father left us for +St. Domingo. On his return, he was taken prisoner by +the English, with all he possessed. He was conducted +to Lanceston, a seaport town in England, where he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_189' name='page_189'></a>189</span> +found many French prisoners of war, and, among +others, a young man, whose handsome face, talents, +and accomplishments, inspired him with the most lively +interest: this was the Comte de Genlis, who, in returning +from Pondicherry, where he had commanded +a regiment during five years, had been carried to +Canton, in China. Here he passed five months, and +was thence taken to Lanceston.</p> +<p>“The Comte de Genlis had served in the navy from +the age of fourteen; he had covered himself with +glory in the famous action of M. d’Aché; he was then +a lieutenant, and scarcely twenty. Out of twenty-two +officers, he was the only one who survived: all the +others were killed. M. de Genlis was covered with +wounds, of which one remained open for eight years +and a half. This combat gained him the rank of captain, +and the cross of St. Louis. M. d’Aché took off +his own to give it to him, on board of the vessel, the +very day of the action, saying that he was sure the court +would not disavow what he had done. The Comte de +Genlis conducted himself with equal valor at Pondicherry. +As soon as he returned to France, his uncle, +M. de Puisieux, made him quit the navy, and enter into +the land service, with the rank of colonel of grenadiers.</p> +<p>“While he was at Lanceston, he became very intimate +with my father, who always carried a box, on +which was my portrait in the act of playing the harp: +this picture struck M. de Genlis, who made many inquiries +about me, and believed all that was said by my +father, who thought me faultless.</p> +<p>“The English had left my father my portrait, my +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_190' name='page_190'></a>190</span> +letters, and those of my mother, which spoke of nothing +but my successes and my talents. The count read +these, and they made a profound impression upon him. +His uncle, who was then minister for foreign affairs, +soon obtained his liberty, and he promised to do all in +his power to obtain that of my father. As soon as he +arrived in Paris, he waited on my mother, to deliver +some letters from my father; at the same time, he +earnestly solicited his exchange, and in three weeks +my father arrived in Paris. Not long after, being +seized with a malignant fever, he died in the flower +of his age. I experienced at his loss the most profound +grief I had ever felt.</p> +<p>“I will now speak of an old friend of my father’s—the +Baron d’Andlau. He came often to visit us; he was +more than sixty, generous and kind. He discovered +the greatest friendship for me, and I was so much the +more touched with these marks of his affection, that I +attributed them to the remembrance he had preserved +of my father. But, at last, he made me understand his +real sentiments by the most singular declaration of love +that was ever made. He sent me, by his valet, a huge +packet, containing his genealogy at full length, which +he entreated me to examine with attention; but all my +application in this way rendered me by no means +favorable to his hopes. The same day, he came +solemnly to demand my heart and hand, and was extremely +surprised to find that his superb parchments +had produced so little effect upon my mind. My +mother, however, desired me to reflect upon his proposal, +stating that he was rich and of high birth; but I +firmly persisted in my refusal, and there was no more +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_191' name='page_191'></a>191</span> +said upon the subject. He did not discontinue his +visits, but paid attention only to my mother, and to +such good purpose, that, eighteen months after, he +married her; and I was much better pleased to have +him for a father-in-law than a husband.</p> +<p>“Not long after this event, my destiny was fixed +for life. I was secretly married to M. de Genlis. +He was then twenty-seven, and, having neither father +nor mother, could dispose of himself as he pleased. +Eight days after my marriage, we went to live with +my aunt, Madame de Sercey, who lived in the Rue de +Rohan. Here our marriage was published, and it +formed the subject of public conversation for several +days. We then took up our residence at the chateau +of Genlis, belonging to my brother-in-law, the Marquis +de Genlis, where our time passed in a succession of +<i>fêtes</i> and entertainments.</p> +<p>“My brother passed six weeks with us at this time. +He had just been received into the engineers, and had +undergone his examination in Bezout, with the utmost +credit to himself: in fact, he showed a decided genius +for mathematics. I was transported with joy at seeing +him again: he was handsome and ingenuous, and he +had a sort of childish gayety, which suited me exactly. +M. de Genlis made him a present of every thing which +could be useful to him in a garrison in which he was +to remain a long time. He went to Mézières: we +promised to write regularly to each other, and we kept +our word.</p> +<p>“On the 4th of September, when I was nineteen +years of age, my little Caroline was born, beautiful as +an angel. How many sentiments, till then unknown, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_192' name='page_192'></a>192</span> +sprung up in my breast with the blessing of being a +mother! Six weeks after, I was presented at court by +Madame Puisieux. She obliged me to wear a great +deal of rouge and powder, two things which I detested; +I wore a high ruff, and a large hoop and train. My +presentation went off well, and the day was well +chosen, as there were a great many ladies at this levee. +Louis XV. spoke a good deal to Madame de Puisieux, +and said many flattering things about me. Though no +longer young, he appeared to me to be very handsome: +his eyes were of a deep blue, ‘royal blue eyes,’ as +the Prince of Conti said; and his look was the most +imposing that can be imagined.</p> +<p>“In speaking he had a laconic manner, and a particular +brevity of expression, in which, however, there +was nothing harsh or disobliging; in short, there was +about his whole person something majestic and royal, +which completely distinguished him from all other +men. A handsome exterior in a king is by no means +a matter of indifference; the people and the great +bulk of the nation can see but by stealth, as it were, the +great potentates of the earth; they regard them with +eager curiosity; the impression they receive from that +examination is indelible, and exercises the greatest influence +over all their sentiments. A noble air, a frank +expression of countenance, a serene aspect, an agreeable +smile, mild and polished manners, are precious +gifts to princes, which education may confer but to a +certain degree.</p> +<p>“About this time, I wrote a little novel, called the +‘Dangers of Celebrity,’ the manuscript of which I +afterwards lost. We soon returned to Genlis, and I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_193' name='page_193'></a>193</span> +recommenced my pursuits with fresh ardor. I was +very happy at Genlis, especially after my brother-in-law’s +marriage to a most charming woman. The +only property which M. de Genlis then had was +the estate of Sissy, five leagues from Genlis: it was +worth ten thousand francs a year, which was equal +to twenty thousand now: we did not spend five thousand +out of this, so that we were completely at our +ease: and M. de Genlis, who was full of goodness and +humanity, did a vast deal of good in the village: my +brother-in-law and his wife were also extremely generous, +and were, in return, adored by the peasants.</p> +<p>“We passed the next winter at Paris. I was then +twenty. I went once a week to dine with my aunt, +Madame de Montesson, or with my grandmother, the +Marchioness de la Haie. I saw this year, 1766, the +Abbé Delille, who had just published his beautiful +translation of Virgil’s ‘Georgies.’ He was at that time +twenty-seven years of age. He visited me several +times; he was then engaged with his translation of the +‘Æneid.’ I thought him ingenuous and amiable; he +had a face of certain intelligent ugliness, which it was +amusing to examine. At this time, he recited verses +in a manner that was quite charming, and which belonged +exclusively to himself.</p> +<p>“I went, in the spring, to the Isle Adam, in the Seine, +where the Prince of Conti resided. He was the only +one of the princes of the blood who had a taste for +literature and the sciences, or who could speak in +public. He was the most magnificent of our princes. +Each lady that visited him had a carriage and horses +at her command, and was at liberty to ask parties to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_194' name='page_194'></a>194</span> +dine daily in her own apartments. Ceremony was +reserved for the evening, but during the day you +enjoyed perfect liberty. We remained here, in the +midst of the most charming society, six weeks.</p> +<p>“I passed the next winter at Paris, in a round of +dissipation; private balls, dinners, suppers, occupied +most of my time. I amused myself also at home by +performing with my friends little operas and comedies, +which were always terminated by a concert, which +was led by the famous Cramer. It was at this time +that I wrote my first historical novel, founded on an +anecdote in the life of Tamerlane. I read also, with +inexpressible delight, some of the works of Pascal, +Bossuet, and Massillon. The latter entirely entranced +me. The majestic flow of his eloquence, and the +sweetness and harmony of his language, have something +about them which is truly divine. I also read +with admiration the ‘Natural History’ of M. de Buffon: +the perfection of his style enchanted me, and I +studied it intensely.</p> +<p>“J. J. Rousseau being now in Paris, I had a great +desire to see so celebrated a man. I must confess +that nothing ever appeared to me so odd and fantastical +as his figure and appearance, which I merely +considered as a masquerade. His coat, his <i>marron</i>-colored +stockings, his little round wig, his whole costume, +his manners and deportment, were to me perfectly +ludicrous. Yet I never knew a literary character +more agreeable, or with less affectation. His eyes +were small, and, though deep set, were very piercing. +He had a most agreeable smile, full of mildness and +finesse. He talked admirably of music. I found +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_195' name='page_195'></a>195</span> +afterwards that he was filled with caprice and morbid +sensibility. He never accepted favors, and was +offended by any offers of pecuniary aid.</p> +<p>“I must mention an extraordinary individual whom +I constantly saw at M. de Puisieux’s—the Abbé +Raynal. Never did there exist a man of talent so +insupportably obstinate, so disputatious, or so unamiable +in society. I likewise saw the young prince of +Sweden, Gustavus III. He was agreeable and accomplished.</p> +<p>“For her own private interest, my aunt, Madame +de Montesson, was extremely desirous that I should +enter the Palais Royal, as lady of honor. M. de +Genlis cared little about it, and declared that he would +not consent to let me have the place, unless he was +attached to the court himself. He therefore asked +and obtained the post of captain of the guards of the +Duke of Chartres, a station worth six thousand francs, +while mine, was worth four. The society of the +Palais Royal was then the most brilliant and witty in +Paris. There was also no want of books, and I made +constant additions to my knowledge of French literature +and history. I served also as the secretary of +the Duchess of Chartres. I continued to write comedies, +and cultivated music with the same ardor as +before. I was constantly in the habit of making +extracts, in small paper books, of conversations with +persons that were entertaining and instructive. I had +made, when I left the Palais Royal, a selection of +poetry, of one thousand verses, of various authors, +some being of very ancient date.</p> +<p>“One day, when I was in the Garden of Plants, I had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_196' name='page_196'></a>196</span> +the good fortune to meet M. de Buffon, who received +me with great cordiality and simplicity. I afterwards +met him frequently, and we spoke of nothing but +literature.</p> +<p>“In 1774, Louis XV. died, and the unfortunate Louis +XVI. mounted the throne. In the course of a journey +which I took on account of ill health the next year, I +went to Ferney to visit M. de Voltaire. All the busts +and portraits I have seen of him are exceedingly like +him; but no artist has fully expressed the eyes. +They were the liveliest I ever saw; but they also had +something indescribably soft and tender in their expression. +His laugh and bitter smile greatly altered +the expression of his face. When neither religion +nor his enemies were spoken of, his conversation was +simple and pleasing; but when he was opposed in the +least, his manner became warm and bitter.</p> +<p>“About this time, I wrote many little comedies for +my daughters to perform, which were very successful. +I received complimentary letters from M. d’Alembert +and M. de Marmontel. Some time afterwards, I had +rather an intimate acquaintance with M. Gibbon, author +of the ‘Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.’ +M. de Voltaire came to Paris soon after this period. I +went to see him, but found him quite broken down and +dejected. He died in 1778.</p> +<p>“The time I passed at the Palais Royal was at once +the most brilliant and unhappy part of my life; I was +in the zenith of my talents, and at the age when a +woman joins to the freshness and graces of youth all +the accomplishments which habits of intercourse with +the world can bestow. I was admired, praised, flattered, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_197' name='page_197'></a>197</span> +and courted. Every Saturday, I had a concert; +every Tuesday, a pleasant circle of acquaintances met +at my house, and another day was set apart for conversation +parties; in short, I was constantly occupied +either in society, reading, or forming plans of works, +since completed. I was generally beloved in the great +world. So much for the brilliant side of my situation. +But the malignity and hypocrisy of several persons +belonging to the Palais Royal; the constantly renewed +vexations; the unlooked-for calumnies, and the pretended +reconciliations of which I have been so frequently +the dupe; the injustice and the slanders;—all +caused me the bitterest grief, which I was forced to +conceal, for my situation obliged me to appear continually +in society.</p> +<p>“The Duke of Chartres was very desirous to succeed +to the place of grand admiral, then held by his father-in-law, +the Duke of Penthièvre: to promote this object +he proposed making a cruise at sea. He was to embark +at Toulon, and persuaded the Duchess of Chartres +to accompany him so far; and I even inspired her with +a desire to see Italy. In going there, the duchess only +took with her the young Countess of Rully, M. de +Genlis, an esquire, and myself, two waiting maids, a +valet, and three footmen. We passed through all the +southern provinces, only stopping to attend the charming +<i>fêtes</i>, which were every where given to the prince +and princess. Our journey passed off gayly and without +accident, and we had some curious personal adventures. +The duchess met with the utmost admiration +throughout Italy for the dignity and sweetness of +her manners.</p> +<p>“At Venice we saw the famous entertainment of the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_198' name='page_198'></a>198</span> +Bucentaur, or wedding the Adriatic; but the city that I +saw with the most enthusiasm was Rome. My emotion +was so great on entering it that I embraced all in the +carriage. I made many excursions, visited the Coliseum, +and went daily to wonder and pray at St. Peter’s. +At Naples we were presented at court, and splendid +<i>fêtes</i> were given to the Duchess of Chartres.</p> +<p>“After our return, I recommenced my little plays with +the same success as before. Indeed, I was prevailed +upon to publish them for the benefit of the Chevalier de +Quiessat, who had been fined and imprisoned. M. de +Genlis undertook the editorship of the works, which +made a large octavo volume. The Duke and Duchess +of Chartres gave a hundred Louis for two copies. +The Prince of Conde paid fifty Louis for one copy, and +the Count de Jardini, with whom I was unacquainted, +paid three thousand francs for one. The net profits +of the work were forty thousand francs, which effected +the liberation of M. Quiessat.</p> +<p>“When I published my first volume of the ‘<i>Théâtre +d’ Education</i>,’ there was every where felt for me a sort +of enthusiasm; many persons sought my acquaintance, +and among others M. de la Harpe. It was immediately +translated into all the European languages. +All the journalists praised my work excessively; in +short, no one ever entered on a literary career with +more honor and glory.</p> +<p>“The Duchess of Chartres having become the +mother of two infant princesses, I cultivated my talents +with new ardor, in the prospect of benefiting them. +I had determined to educate them within a convent. +Accordingly a pavilion, called ‘Belle Chasse,’ was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_199' name='page_199'></a>199</span> +erected in Paris for our residence, communicating with +the convent by a long arbor covered with vines. My +establishment was really charming. The furniture was +extremely simple: it was to be mine after the education +of the children was completed. The usual salary +of the governess was six thousand francs; the duke +offered me twelve thousand; which, however, I refused. +I conducted the mansion of ‘Belle Chasse’ and the +education of the princes and princesses with great +ceremony, and gained the reputation of being a <i>good +housewife</i>—a kind of praise so reluctantly accorded to +those women who love reading and cultivate literature +and the fine arts.</p> +<p>“During the first eighteen months of my residence +at ‘Belle Chasse,’ I published successively the other +volumes of my ‘Theatre of Education.’ I led a delicious +life at ‘Belle Chasse,’ and received every +Saturday my acquaintances from six to half past nine, +and my intimate friends from eight till ten in the +evening. I had obtained permission to have my +mother and children with me; and the inexpressible +satisfaction of attending to my mother’s comforts was +my sweetest occupation.</p> +<p>“The extreme beauty of my eldest daughter, her talents, +her charming disposition, and my place as lady +of honor, which remained vacant for her, caused her +hand to be sought by a great number of persons. She +was a good musician; she drew figures in a fine style; +she painted admirably in all styles; and I never knew +any one who danced so well as she did. She was +only fourteen. I at last determined upon marrying +her. The choice of M. de Genlis fell upon a Belgian, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_200' name='page_200'></a>200</span> +the Marquis of Becelaer de Lawoestine: he was +an only son, and of high birth, and would eventually +inherit the title of grandee. M. de Genlis gave him +his place of captain of the guards, and my furnished +apartments at the Palais Royal, all of which formed a +very comfortable establishment for the young couple. +A week before the marriage, the Duke and Duchess of +Chartres sent me magnificent bracelets and a superb +aigrette of diamonds for my daughter.</p> +<p>“I was the first governess of princes, in France, who +adopted the custom of teaching children the living +languages by talking with them. I gave my young +princesses an English maid-servant, and another who +understood Italian thoroughly, so that, at the age of +five, they understood three languages, and spoke +English and French perfectly well. I bethought myself +of placing a young English girl of their own age +with them. Accordingly the Duke of Chartres wrote to +London to beg a person of the name of Forth to send +him one. He succeeded in accomplishing my wish: +the little girl was sent, and was remarkable for her +graceful manners, her mildness, and her beauty. Her +name was Nancy Syms; I called her Pamela; and, as +she did not know a word of French, she contributed +greatly to familiarize the little princesses with the +English language.</p> +<p>“My tranquillity was now disturbed by a melancholy +event—the illness and death of the eldest of the +princesses, Mademoiselle d’Orleans. The princess who +remained took the name of Orleans; she was then five +years old. No words can describe her grief at the +death of her sister; her affliction lasted more than +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_201' name='page_201'></a>201</span> +two years. Often, when in my room, and appearing +to play, she turned her back to me and wept.</p> +<p>“The duke was sedulously engaged in endeavoring +to find a tutor for his sons. The eldest, the Duke of +Valois,<a name='FNanchor_0004' id='FNanchor_0004'></a><a href='#Footnote_0004' class='fnanchor'>[4]</a> was then eight years old. He consulted me +on the selection of a fit person. I proposed several, +among others M. de Schomberg; but, none of them +meeting his favor, I said, with a laugh, ‘Well, then, +what do you think of me?’ ‘Why not?’ replied he, +seriously: ‘the thing is decided; you must be their +tutor.’ I confess that the manner of the duke impressed +me deeply with the thought of doing something +so glorious to myself, and so unprecedented in +the history of education. The arrangement was accordingly +made, and it was agreed that I should be +the absolute mistress of their education. The Duke +of Chartres offered me twenty thousand francs, which +I refused; and that I <i>gratuitously</i> educated three +princes is an undisputed fact. The Duchess of Chartres +was delighted with the plan; and I may truly say +it was generally approved of.</p> +<p>“About this time, I published ‘<i>Adèle et Théodore</i>.’ +This work at once insured the suffrages of the public, +and the irreconcilable hatred of all the so-called philosophers +and their partisans.</p> +<p>“Having chosen M. Lebrun as under-governor for +the young princes, I gave him private instructions relative +to their education. He kept a daily journal of +their studies and behavior, which I commented upon +in the evening. I thought this journal would be interesting +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_202' name='page_202'></a>202</span> +to the duke and duchess; but they always +refused to read it, saying that they confided entirely in +me. I found some very bad habits in my pupils. +When I read history to them, the Duke of Valois +yawned and stretched himself, sometimes lying down +on the sofa, and putting his feet upon the table. I reproved +him for this in such a manner that he felt no +resentment. As soon as the sense of the thing was +clearly presented to him, he listened with attention.</p> +<p>“Every Saturday we received company at ‘Belle +Chasse.’ I established this rule to form the princes in +politeness, and to accustom them to the habit of listening +to conversation. When Mademoiselle Orleans +was seven years old, she played on the harp in a surprising +manner. I can truly say, that I never knew a +single defect in this princess. She possessed all the +virtues. The Duke of Montpensier, the second son, +had a feeling and generous heart, a natural elegance +of person, and something romantic about his face, disposition, +and manners. The youngest of the three +princes, the Count of Beaujolais, was equally charming +in face, talent, and disposition. Even his faults +were amiable. We thought that he resembled Henry +IV. To continue the portraits of ‘Belle Chasse,’ I +must speak of Pamela. She had a beautiful face; +she never told a single falsehood; she ran like +Atalanta, but her mind was lazy to a degree; she had +no memory, and was very volatile.</p> +<p>“The Duke of Orleans purchased St. Leu, a charming +residence, where we passed eight months of the +year. There was a fine garden, in which my pupils +dug with their own hands. The gardener was a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_203' name='page_203'></a>203</span> +German, and only spoke to them in German; in our +walks we spoke English, and we supped in Italian. I +invented little games, and dramatic pieces for representation, +and we performed historic pictures. In the +winter, at Paris, I continued to make every moment +useful. I had a turning machine put in my chamber, +and all the children learned to turn. We also made +morocco portfolios, baskets, artificial flowers, and the +Duke of Valois and the Duke of Montpensier made a +table with drawers for a poor woman of St. Leu.</p> +<p>“Upon the death of his father, the old Duke of Orleans, +the Duke of Chartres took the title of Orleans, +and my eldest pupil that of Chartres.</p> +<p>“Amidst all my engagements, I continued my private +studies with ardor, and soon published my ‘<i>Veilléss +du Chateau</i>.’ I also wrote my ‘Palace of Truth,’ and +the ‘Two Reputations,’ at this time. The former work +was translated, in the course of a year, into all the +European languages. My first work upon religion, +which I wrote for my pupils, completed the degree of +horror in which I was held by the philosophers. It +was entitled ‘Religion considered as the only Basis of +Happiness and true Philosophy.’ While writing this +work, I experienced the greatest misfortune of my life. +My eldest daughter died, at the age of twenty-one. +She expired with the calmness and piety of an angel. +Being unable to find any relief from my affliction, I +set about finishing my work on religion; and, on looking +at the place where I left off, I found it was the +chapter ‘On Christian Resignation.’</p> +<p>“Grief had so great an effect upon me, that my +physicians directed me to go to Spa. Thither the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_204' name='page_204'></a>204</span> +duke and duchess and my pupils accompanied me. +This took place in July, 1787.</p> +<p>“It was now becoming the fashion to ridicule the +monarchy, and preparations were making for the +revolution. I was of no party but that of religion. I +desired to see the reformation of certain abuses, and I +saw with joy the demolition of the Bastile. It is +impossible to give an idea of the sight; this redoubtable +fortress was covered with men, women, and children, +all working with unequalled ardor.</p> +<p>“As soon as the Duke of Chartres had attained his +seventeenth year, the Duke of Orleans informed me +that his education was at an end; but the Duke of +Chartres was so attached to me that he said he would +come daily till he was eighteen, to take his lessons as +usual. He never failed to do this, which was admirable +in a young prince who had now become his own +master.</p> +<p>“During my residence at ‘Belle Chasse,’ my second +daughter, Pulchérie, married the Viscount de Valence. +She was seventeen years old, beautiful and accomplished. +Soon after this event, M. de Genlis came into +possession of the property of the Maréchale d’Etrée. +On finding himself suddenly possessed of one hundred +thousand francs a year, he urged me to quit ‘Belle +Chasse,’ and reside with him. But I could not support +the idea that any one else should finish the education +of my pupils, and carry from me all the honors. I +have since bitterly repented this failure in my duty. +M. de Genlis now took the name of Marquis de Sillery.</p> +<p>“Having always felt an extreme desire of travelling +in England, I separated from my pupils for the first +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_205' name='page_205'></a>205</span> +time. My journey was marked by many distinctions. +I received proofs of esteem from many distinguished +persons—Fox, Sheridan, Burke, Miss Burney, &c. +The Prince of Wales invited me to an entertainment, +and was full of attention to me. I passed three days +at the country-house of the celebrated Mr. Burke; +here I met Sir Joshua Reynolds. I dined with the +queen at Windsor. Lord Mansfield, the celebrated +English judge, came to see me, and gave me a beautiful +moss-rose tree. Horace Walpole invited me to breakfast +in his Gothic priory. After having visited Wales, +I returned at length to France. I arrived at St. Leu, +after an absence of six weeks, to the great joy of my +pupils, as well as my own.</p> +<p>“A short time after, the marriage of Mademoiselle +d’Orleans with the Duke of Angoulême was resolved +on. An interview took place between them at Versailles, +and the marriage was publicly talked of. The +revolution, which suddenly burst upon us at this time, +overthrew all our plans and projects.</p> +<p>“I was soon called upon to feel the most heart-rending +sorrow at the death of my mother, whom I +tended during three whole days and nights, without +ever going to bed, or leaving her for a moment. My +pupils wished, of their own accord, to be present at the +funeral, for they truly loved her, and joined most sincerely +and affectionately in grief for her loss.</p> +<p>“It now became obvious that a melancholy change +had taken place in the conduct of the Duchess of +Orleans to me, after twenty years of the warmest +and closest intimacy. In consequence of this, I determined +on retiring from her household altogether. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_206' name='page_206'></a>206</span> +My feelings were still more aggravated by the want of +any specific charge, or any explanation on the part of +the duchess. I wrote a letter to the duke, asking leave +to resign my place; but this he would not grant, +promising to arrange affairs in a few days. In the +interval, Mademoiselle, seeing me sorrowful and dejected, +perceived the plan I had in view. One day, +she swooned away in the garden, and the consequence +was, a promise from me, ‘that I would not leave her +of my own free will.’ I then wrote a long explanatory +letter to the duchess, using all possible arguments to +induce her to restore me to her confidence. This she +did not do, but consented to meet me as usual, and to +allow her family to suppose the ‘difference’ between +us adjusted: at the same time, she desired that not a +word should pass between us relative to our misunderstanding.</p> +<p>“I was meditating, one morning, upon this painful +position of affairs, when the door opened, and the +duchess appeared. She rushed in, bid me be quiet, +drew a paper from her pocket, which she read in a +loud voice and with great rapidity. The purport of +this was, that I must withdraw immediately, and that +in a private manner, to prevent unnecessary affliction +to Mademoiselle; if I did not do so, there was no +public exposure I might not dread, and she would +never see me again in the course of her life. After +some expostulations with the duchess, who, I saw, was +influenced by my enemies, I promised to do as she +required. Before I left, I wrote three letters to Mademoiselle +d’Orleans, to be given to her at different +periods of the day. The duke felt the most profound +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_207' name='page_207'></a>207</span> +chagrin, and, attributing all these troubles to the +counsels of Madame de Chastelleux, desired her to +seek some other abode. The consequence was, the +duchess made a demand to be separated from her +husband.</p> +<p>“After my departure, I received letters from the +duke, begging me to return to his daughter, as he felt +assured that her death would be the consequence of my +continued absence. I accordingly returned, and found +my dear pupil in a state that pierced me to the heart. +My solicitude soon restored her to health, but my tranquillity +was forever lost. The cause of the sudden +dislike of the duchess was evidently the difference of +our political opinions. I never in my life interfered in +political affairs, but I have at all times been monarchical, +as all my works demonstrate. It is also true that +I have always detested despotism, <i>lettres de cachets</i>, +and arbitrary imprisonment.</p> +<p>“After the flight of the king to Varennes, and his +forced return to Paris, I was burning with a desire to +leave France, and the duke at last gave me leave. The +physicians ordered Mademoiselle to go to England, +to take the Bath waters. We accordingly went there, +and staid at that place two months. We then travelled +through the English counties, visited the caverns of +Derbyshire and the Isle of Wight.</p> +<p>“The close of my stay in England was imbittered +by the most mournful anticipations, for party spirit +gave me every reason to fear the efforts and enemies +of the house of Orleans, and I received anonymous +letters of the most alarming nature. Among others +was one which threatened to set fire to our house at +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_208' name='page_208'></a>208</span> +night. In September, 1792, while we were at Bury, +in Suffolk, I learned by the French papers that a powerful +party were desirous of bringing the king and queen +to judgment. Immediately after the massacres in the +prisons in the same month, I received a singular letter +from the Duke of Orleans, telling me to return to +France immediately with his daughter. I answered +him that I would not do so, as it was absurd to choose +such a period for her return.</p> +<p>“My well-founded fears increasing daily, I met with +several alarming adventures, which proved that I was +an object of suspicion in France. In November, the +Duke of Orleans again sent for his daughter. Upon +this, I determined to take Mademoiselle back to France, +deliver her up into her father’s hands, give up my +place as governess, and return immediately to London. +We set out on our return, in November, for Dover. +We had a stormy passage across the channel, landed, +and proceeded rapidly to our residence in Paris. +Here I found the Duke of Orleans, M. de Sillery, +and some others. I delivered up Mademoiselle to her +father, and told him my plan. The duke took me apart, +and said, in a dejected manner, that, in consequence +of my not returning when he sent the first time, his +daughter, now fifteen, came under the new law, which +placed her among the emigrants; that the matter was +not entirely arranged, but that his daughter must go to +Tournay, in Belgium, for a short time. He urged me +so vehemently to go with her, that I consented.</p> +<p>“The same evening, M. Sillery took us to the +theatre to dispel our melancholy ideas. At the play +was Lord Edward Fitzgerald, who became violently in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_209' name='page_209'></a>209</span> +love with Pamela, from her resemblance to a former +object of his affection. The next day, finding myself +alone with the duke, whose manner struck me as very +alarming, I spoke some words to him, upon which he +said, surlily, <i>that he had declared in favor of the Jacobins</i>. +I remonstrated with him in vain. In the evening, +I had a long conversation with M. de Sillery, and +entreated him, with tears in my eyes, to leave France. +But all my arguments were unavailing, and I left the +next morning for Tournay, with the most mournful +presages.</p> +<p>“At the first post-house we found Lord Edward +Fitzgerald, whose love for Pamela made him follow +us to Tournay. We had scarcely reached the place, +when he asked the hand of Pamela in marriage. I +showed him the papers proving her to be the daughter +of a man of high birth, of the name of Seymour. +After having obtained the consent of his mother, the +Duchess of Leinster, to the marriage, it was concluded; +and in two days the new-married couple set out for +England. I felt great joy in seeing the fortunes of this +beloved child so honorably secured.</p> +<p>“Meanwhile, three weeks had elapsed without +hearing from the duke. At last news came of the +horrible catastrophe of the king’s death. The Duke +of Chartres, who joined us at Tournay, showed me a +letter from his father, which began thus: ‘My heart is +oppressed with sorrow; but, for the interests of France +and of liberty, I have thought it my duty...!’ &c. +My unfortunate husband wrote at the same time, and +sent me copies of his opinion at the king’s trial. This +was thus expressed: ‘I do not vote for death, first +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_210' name='page_210'></a>210</span> +because the king does not merit it; secondly, because +we have no right to sit as his judges; and, lastly, because +I consider his condemnation as the greatest +political fault that can be committed.’ The letter +concluded thus: ‘I am perfectly sure, then, in pronouncing +this opinion, I have signed my death-warrant.’</p> +<p>“Seeing that Belgium was about to fall into the +hands of the Austrians, and that it would be impossible +for us to fly either to France or to foreign countries, +I had the most anxious desire to be recalled to my +country. Hence I strongly solicited my return; and +I was informed, in March, 1793, that the Duke of +Orleans was to obtain the recall of Mademoiselle, but +that mine would be delayed. Whilst one day sitting +in my room, M. Crépin, an army commissary, whom I +had previously known, entered the room, and told me +that the Austrians would be in Tournay the next day. +Seeing my distress at this intelligence, he offered me +an asylum at a farm of his near Valenciennes, so +secluded that I might stay there for months in safety. +I joyfully accepted his proposal, and we left Tournay +in a few days. Circumstances, however, did not allow +us to take advantage of this kind offer. We were surrounded +by danger; troops marching in disorder, soldiers +making a tumultuous noise, filled us with terror. +We stopped a short time at St. Amand, where arrests +were constantly made, and all proved to me that the +system of proscription was established.</p> +<p>“Having providentially escaped from St. Amand, I +immediately set off for Switzerland. After travelling +seven days, we reached Schafhausen. My satisfaction +on reaching a neutral territory was great. The +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_211' name='page_211'></a>211</span> +Duke of Chartres joined us here. We soon after +went to Zug, and took a small house, in a secluded situation, +on the banks of the lake, not far from the town. +Here I wrote to the Duchess of Orleans,—for the duke +was in prison,—and entreated her to send me orders +respecting Mademoiselle d’Orleans as soon as possible; +but I received no answer.</p> +<p>“We should have remained longer at Zug, but we +became known, and the magistrates were reproached +for having given us refuge; we were therefore obliged +to consult as to our future destination. We formed a +thousand romantic projects, and abandoned them as +fast as made. The Duke of Chartres insisted upon +continuing with us, which made it impossible for us to +remain unknown. I finally determined to write to +M. de Montesquiou, who lived at Bremgarten, who was +himself a refugee, and possessed great influence in +Switzerland. I described to him the condition of my +unfortunate pupils, and begged him to allow them an +asylum in the convent, near the town. M. de Montesquiou +wrote me a most polite and obliging answer, +and took upon himself to get Mademoiselle d’Orleans +and myself into this convent, called St. Claire. The +Duke of Chartres resolved to make a pedestrian tour +through Switzerland, where he was taken for a German. +How often, since my misfortunes, have I congratulated +myself on the education I had given him,—on +the languages I had taught him,—on having accustomed +him to despise effeminacy, and habituate himself +to fatigue! All that he was indebted for to the +chance of birth and fortune he had lost; and nothing +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_212' name='page_212'></a>212</span> +now remained to him but what he held from nature +and from me.<a name='FNanchor_0005' id='FNanchor_0005'></a><a href='#Footnote_0005' class='fnanchor'>[5]</a></p> +<p>“We entered the convent under feigned names. +Mine was Madame Lenox, aunt of Mademoiselle +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_213' name='page_213'></a>213</span> +Stuart, my sister’s daughter. The duke then left us, +and, after his journey through Switzerland, he entered +the college of the Grisons incognito, as professor of +mathematics. In this quiet of the convent, the health of +Mademoiselle was nearly restored. While here came +news of a horrid catastrophe, on November 9th, 1793, +and I became ill.... I concealed from Mademoiselle +the death of her unfortunate father, but dressed +her in mourning, as if for the queen of France.<a name='FNanchor_0006' id='FNanchor_0006'></a><a href='#Footnote_0006' class='fnanchor'>[6]</a></p> +<p>“About this time, a violent dispute arose between the +inhabitants of Bremgarten: two parties were formed, +and an order was obtained, by people hostile to M. de +Montesquiou, that all the French should leave the +place. Hearing that the Princess of Conti, the aunt +of Mademoiselle d’Orleans, was residing in Switzerland, +Mademoiselle, at my urgent request, wrote to her to +ask permission to join her. She received a very kind +letter, saying that the princess would receive her niece. +On the day before the carriage was sent to take her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_214' name='page_214'></a>214</span> +from me, my emotion was excessive. I determined +to spare both of us the pain of this cruel separation. +I accordingly shut myself in my room, at the arrival +of the Countess de Pont, who was to take away my +interesting charge, telling the servant to say that I had +gone to some distance.</p> +<p>“As the moment arrived for the departure, Mademoiselle +d’Orleans came along my passage, and stopped +before the door. I heard her sighs and lamentations.... +I heard the carriage roll away; and one must feel +a mother’s love, to conceive the emotions that overpowered +me. I heard from her the next day, and I +also wrote her my last letter of advice. Her departure +rendered the spot she had left completely hateful +to me, and I most anxiously wished to leave the place. +I had, besides, been cruelly persecuted since my residence +there. I was often attacked in the most absurd +manner in the newspapers. One of them stated that +I, loaded with favors by the court of France, had +been concerned in all the intrigues of the revolution. +Not knowing how to get passports I at last thought of +writing to Dr. Hoze, a skilful physician, who lived at +Bremgarten. He kindly sent me both passports and a +servant to accompany me. I departed, promising the +nuns to return and spend the remainder of my life +with them. We travelled night and day, till we +arrived at Utrecht. From this place, I got into a +wretched post-wagon, with a man who was going to +Hamburg. We reached that place July 23d, 1794. +Hearing of an inn kept by a person of the name of +Plock, I went there, and had the fortune not to meet +with any emigrants. Here I staid nine months, in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_215' name='page_215'></a>215</span> +complete incognito, and in very agreeable society. +It was here that I enjoyed the first consolation I +received since my misfortunes—here that I learned +several most important events—the fall of Robespierre, +and the peace concluded with Russia.</p> +<p>“I now went to board with M. de Valence at his +country-house, five leagues from Hamburg. At this +place I wrote my ‘<i>Précis de Conduite</i>,’ which produced +such a powerful effect in my favor. I soon left for +Berlin, in Prussia. I took lodgings with Mademoiselle +Bocquet, who kept a boarding-school. Here I made +several charming acquaintances; but my cruel fortunes +still triumphed. I was informed that great exertions +were making to get me out of the kingdom. It had +been rumored that the Abbé Sièyes, whom I had never +even seen, had made me a visit. The king said he +‘would not banish me from his library, but that he +would not allow me to remain in his territories.’ Accordingly +a police officer came with an order for me +to leave the kingdom in two hours. This was a real +thunderbolt. Leaving all my effects behind me, I got +into a carriage and drove away. We were obliged to +travel to the frontiers without stopping, except for +meals. Three weeks after I reached Hamburg, I +received my baggage and manuscripts from Berlin. +During my stay here, I saw Pamela and her husband. +I soon perceived that Lord Edward had imbibed +opinions dangerous to his own government, and feared +that he was about to engage in some desperate enterprise.</p> +<p>“I now went to Holstein, and took up my abode +with M. Peterson, in a delightful thatched cottage. The +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_216' name='page_216'></a>216</span> +family was charming, and the rural style of living +just what I liked. I assisted in churning the butter, +and fed on the most delicious red partridges. I here +performed a literary labor that greatly fatigued me. +In the morning, I wrote the ‘<i>Petits Emigrés</i>,’ and in +the evening, I occupied myself with the ‘<i>Vœux Téméraires</i>.’ +Beside this, I wrote all the fables of +‘<i>Herbier Moral</i>.’</p> +<p>“I learned by the newspapers that Lord Edward +Fitzgerald was arrested in consequence of intrigues in +Ireland.<a name='FNanchor_0007' id='FNanchor_0007'></a><a href='#Footnote_0007' class='fnanchor'>[7]</a> I found also that my brother had perished +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_217' name='page_217'></a>217</span> +at sea. I became now seriously ill, was attacked with +fever, and recovered only as by a miracle. The +king of Prussia, Frederic William II., having died in +1797, his son, the prince royal, authorized me to return +to Berlin, where ‘I should always find peace and +repose.’ Though still weak, I set out, arrived there in +safety, and was received with delight by Mademoiselle +Bocquet. She had prepared for me a charming +apartment, fitted up with all the attention of kind +friendship.”</p> +<p>We have thus far presented an abridgment of +Madame de Genlis’s own narrative: we must now +hasten to the conclusion. Under the consulship of +Bonaparte, who had a favorable opinion of her talents, +she returned to Paris, and became one of his admirers +and panegyrists. After the restoration of the Bourbons, +she wrote in defence of monarchy and religion.</p> +<p>Her pen seemed inexhaustible, and she continued at +intervals to pour forth its productions upon the public. +She had passed her eightieth year when her “Memoirs” +were written. She lived to witness the astonishing +events of July, 1830, and to see her former pupil raised +to the throne under the title of Louis Philippe. She +died December 31st, 1830, aged 84 years.</p> +<p>The character of Madame de Genlis is not without +marks of weakness, and she has been charged even +with gross departures from the path of rectitude. On +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_218' name='page_218'></a>218</span> +this point, however, the proof is not clear. Her +“Memoirs” display a degree of vanity only to be palliated +by the customs of her sex in France; and her +opinions on public affairs appear to have fluctuated +with her fortunes. Yet, as a writer, particularly of +works of fiction, which blend instruction with amusement, +and have especially in view the inculcation of just +sentiments, she has had few equals. Her “Palace of +Truth,” and “Tales of the Castle,” are among the +most captivating, yet useful books of the kind, that +were ever penned. Some of her works are exceptionable +in respect to their tendency; yet, on the whole, +we are bound to assign to her the credit of an excellent +heart, and a high order of genius. Her works have +been published in eighty-four volumes, duodecimo.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_219' name='page_219'></a>219</span> +<a name='JOSEPHINE' id='JOSEPHINE'></a> +<h2>JOSEPHINE.</h2> +</div> +<p>M. Tascher, a native of France, having resigned his +commission in the cavalry, retired to an estate in the +Island of St. Domingo. In the year 1763, he, together +with his wife, made a visit to a sister in Martinico, and +there, on the 23d of June, a daughter, Josephine, was +born. On the return of her parents to St. Domingo, +she was left with her aunt, and there are no traces +of future intercourse with them. Often, in after years, +did Josephine revert to the unmingled happiness and +peaceful enjoyments of her childhood. The advantages +for education enjoyed by Mademoiselle Tascher were +superior to what would be supposed by those who have +only known the French colonies at a subsequent period. +The proprietors were many of them highly accomplished +gentlemen, born and educated in France, who +had retired to their estates in the New World, as a +retreat from which to watch the progress of those +events which were beginning to disturb the quiet of +the Old.</p> +<div class='figcenter'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_7' id='linki_7'></a> +</div> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_220' name='page_220'></a>220</span> +<img src='images/illo-220.png' alt='' title='' width='397' height='550' /> +<br /> +<p class='caption'> +JOSEPHINE.<br /> +</p> +</div> +<p>Josephine, naturally amiable and gentle in disposition, +with manners which combined ease and elegance +with dignity, possessed a natural aptitude for +acquiring feminine accomplishments. She played, +especially on the harp, and sung with exquisite feeling. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_221' name='page_221'></a>221</span> +Her dancing is said to have been perfect. An eye-witness +describes her light form, rising scarcely above +the middle size, as seeming in its faultless symmetry +to float rather than to move—the very personation of +Grace. She was mistress of the pencil and of the +needle. Flowers were her passion; she early cultivated +a knowledge of botany. To the <i>empress</i> +Josephine Europe is indebted for a knowledge of the +Camelia. She read delightfully; the tones of her +voice fascinated. “The first applause of the French +people,” said Napoleon, “sounded to my ear sweet as +the voice of Josephine.”</p> +<p>The companion of her infancy was a mulatto girl, +some years older than herself,—her foster-sister, Euphemia,—who +never afterwards quitted her patroness, +shared in her amusements, and was the companion of +her rambles. In one of these an incident occurred, +which exercised a lasting influence over her imagination. +The particulars were, long afterwards, thus +related by herself:—</p> +<p>“One day, some time before my first marriage, +while taking my usual walk, I observed a number of +negro girls assembled round an old woman, who was +telling their fortune. I stopped to listen to her. The +sorceress, on seeing me, uttered a loud shriek, and +grasped my hand. I laughed at her grimaces, and +allowed her to proceed, saying, ‘So you discover +something extraordinary in my destiny?’ ‘I do.’ +‘Do you discover traces of happiness, or misfortune?’ +‘Of misfortune, certainly; but of happiness also.’ +‘You take care not to commit yourself, my worthy +sibyl; your oracles are not the most clear.’ ‘I am +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_222' name='page_222'></a>222</span> +not permitted to make them more so,’ said the woman, +raising her eyes in a mysterious manner towards +heaven. My curiosity was now awakened, and I +said to her, ‘But tell me, what read you in futurity +concerning me?’ ‘What do I read? You will not +believe me if I tell you.’ ‘Yes, indeed, I assure you. +Come, good woman, what am I to hope or fear?’ +‘You insist; listen then. You will soon be married; +the union will not be happy; you will become a +widow, and then—you will become queen of France! +You will enjoy many years of happiness, but you will +be killed in a popular commotion.’ The old woman +then burst from the crowd, and hurried away as fast +as her limbs, enfeebled by age, would permit. I forbade +the bystanders to laugh at the prophetess for her +ridiculous prediction, and took the occasion to caution +the young negro women against giving credit to such +pretenders. Henceforth, I thought of the affair only +to laugh at it. But afterwards, when my husband had +perished on the scaffold, in spite of my better judgment, +this prediction forcibly recurred to my mind; +and, though I was myself then in prison, the transaction +daily assumed a less improbable character, and I +ended by regarding the fulfilment as almost a matter +of course.”</p> +<p>Nothing at the time seemed less likely than the +fulfilment of the prediction. Miss Tascher seemed +destined to become the wife of some creole youth, and +to pass a tranquil and indolent life on some neighboring +plantation. It so chanced, however, that the +young Vicompte Alexander de Beauharnais, “who,” +in Josephine’s words, “had embraced the new ideas +with all the ardor of a very lively imagination,” after +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_223' name='page_223'></a>223</span> +serving with distinction in the war of the American +revolution, came to Martinico to prove his title to +some estates which had fallen by inheritance to himself +and his brother. These estates were held on +lease by Josephine’s uncle, and an acquaintance between +the young people naturally followed. They +became mutually attached; but his relatives, who were +opposed to the match, interposed obstacles which Josephine +surmounted with a gentleness and address +hardly to be expected in a girl of sixteen. In 1794, +writing to her children, Josephine says, “If to my +union with your father I have been indebted for all +my happiness, I dare to think and say, that to my own +character I owe our union, so many were the obstacles +which opposed us. Yet, without any effort of talents, +I effected their removal. I found in my own heart +the means of gaining the affection of my husband’s +relations; patience and goodness will ever in the end +conciliate the good-will of others.”</p> +<p>On their arrival in France, in 1779, the youthful +pair are said to have created a sensation in society. +The manners and accomplishments of Josephine excited +admiration in the most polished court in Europe; +and the attentions of Marie Antoinette made an impression +on her grateful heart which endured through a +life, the incidents of which were in such seeming opposition +to the interests of the Bourbons. Much of their +time, however, was spent on the vicompte’s estates in +Brittany; and here were born Eugene, afterwards +viceroy of Italy, and Hortense, afterwards queen of +Holland.</p> +<p>Every thing gave promise of enduring happiness. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_224' name='page_224'></a>224</span> +But the misconduct of the vicompte destroyed it. +Josephine at first complained with gentleness, and +sought by increased fondness to win back the waning +affections of her husband. Finding this unavailing, +she infused into her reproaches a degree of bitterness +which alienated completely the affections she was so +anxious to gain. A separation was the consequence, +and Josephine returned with her children to Martinico.</p> +<p>After an absence of several years, she once again +sailed for France, and in circumstances far from +affluent. An incident which occurred on the voyage +was thus related to the ladies of her court. She had +indulged a wish they had expressed to see her jewels. +They were spread upon a spacious table, which was +covered with them. The brilliancy, the size, and the +quantity, of the jewels composing the different sets, +were dazzling to the eye. Here were collected the +choicest gems of Europe, for all its nations had been +eager to heap presents upon the wife of Napoleon. +After she had permitted the ladies to examine at +leisure these treasures, which almost realized the +tales of the “Arabian Nights,” Josephine said to them, +“During the first dawn of my elevation, I delighted +in these trifles. I grew by degrees so tired of them, +that I no longer wear any, except when I am compelled +to do so by my station in the world. Trust to +me, ladies, and do not envy a splendor which does not +constitute happiness. You will be surprised when I +tell you that I felt more pleasure at receiving a pair +of old shoes, than at being presented with all the +diamonds now spread before you.” The ladies smiled +at what they considered a mere pleasantry; but Josephine +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_225' name='page_225'></a>225</span> +repeated the remark with such earnestness as +to induce them to ask for the story. “Accompanied +by Hortense, I embarked at Martinico for France. +Being separated from my husband, my pecuniary +resources were not very flourishing; the expense of +my return to France, which the state of my affairs +rendered necessary, had nearly drained my purse, +and I found great difficulty in providing the indispensable +requisites for the voyage. Hortense, who was a +smart, lively girl, became a great favorite with the +sailors; she entertained them by imitating the songs +and dances of the negroes. No sooner did she observe +me engaged, than she slipped upon deck, and repeated +her little exercises to the renewed delight of all. An +old quarter-master was particularly attentive to her, +and, whenever he found a moment’s leisure, he devoted +it to his <i>little friend</i>, who became much attached to +him. This constant dancing and skipping soon destroyed +my daughter’s slight shoes. Knowing that +she had no other pair, and fearing that I should forbid +her going upon deck, if I should discover this defect in +her attire, she concealed it. Her bleeding feet one +day attracted my notice. I asked, in alarm, if she had +hurt herself. ‘No, mamma.’ ‘But your feet are +bleeding.’ ‘It really is nothing.’ I insisted upon +seeing what was the matter, and found that the shoes +were in tatters, and her foot dreadfully torn by a nail. +The voyage was not half performed, and there seemed +no possibility of procuring a new pair before reaching +France. I was quite overcome at the idea of Hortense’s +sorrow at being compelled to remain shut up +in my little cabin, and to the injury to her health. My +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_226' name='page_226'></a>226</span> +tears found a free vent. At this moment our friend +the quarter-master appeared. With honest bluntness +he asked the cause of our grief. Hortense, sobbing +all the while, told him that she could no longer go on +deck, because she had no shoes. ‘Is that all?’ said +he; ‘I have an old pair somewhere in my chest; I +will bring them; you, madam, can cut them to shape, +and I will sew them as well as I can. On board ship, +you must put up with many things. It is not the place +to be too nice and particular.’ He did not wait for my +reply, but went in quest of his shoes, which he brought +to us with an air of exultation, and offered them to +Hortense, who received them with eager delight. We +set to work with zeal, and Hortense enjoyed the delight +of furnishing the evening’s diversion to the crew. +I repeat that no present was ever received by me with +more pleasure than this pair of old, coarse, leather +shoes.”</p> +<p>The motive of Josephine in returning to France +was to be near her husband, who was a prominent +actor in the scenes of the French revolution. Knowing +the warmth of his political feelings, she trembled +for his safety; her past resentment vanished. She +sought a reconciliation, which he most cordially desired.</p> +<p>Passing onward in our story, we find Madame de +Beauharnais a widow and a prisoner. Her husband, +after filling the offices of president of the Convention, +and general-in-chief of the army of the Rhine, had, +during the reign of terror, perished on the scaffold. +On the same day on which this event was communicated +to her, she received an intimation to prepare +herself for death. But she had found a new source +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_227' name='page_227'></a>227</span> +of strength. Her mind, in reverting to past scenes +dwelt upon the almost forgotten prophecy of the negress. +Her imagination was excited; it began to +appear less and less absurd to her, and finally terminated +in her almost certain belief. The following +relation was made by herself at Navarre:—</p> +<p>“The jailer came one morning to the room occupied +by the Duchess d’Aiguillon, two other ladies, and myself, +and said that he came to remove my bed, which +was to be given to another prisoner. ‘Why give it +away?’ said the duchess eagerly: ‘is, then, Madame +de Beauharnais to have a better?’ ‘No, no; she +will not need one at all,’ said the wretch, with an atrocious +smile; <ins title='Guessed at quote start'>‘she</ins> is to be taken to a new lodging, and +thence to the guillotine.’ On hearing this, my companions +shrieked aloud. I endeavored to console +them. At length, wearied with their continued lamentations, +I told them their grief was quite unreasonable; +that not only I should not die, but that I should be +queen of France. ‘Why do you not at once name +the persons of your household?’ said Madame d’Aiguillon, +with an air of resentment. ‘Very true; I had +quite forgotten it. Well, my dear, you shall be lady +of honor; you may rely upon my promise.’ The +tears of the ladies now flowed afresh, for my composure +made them think that my reason was affected. +I assure you, however, that there was no affectation +of courage on my part; I felt a conviction that the +oracle would be fulfilled. Madame d’Aiguillon grew +faint, and I led her towards the window, which I threw +open, that she might breathe the fresh air; I suddenly +caught sight of a poor woman who was making signs +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_228' name='page_228'></a>228</span> +to us. She was laying hold of her gown at every moment—a +sign which we were at a loss to understand. +At length I cried out to her,’ <i>Robe</i>.’ She nodded in assent, +and then, picking up a stone, held it up with her +other hand. ‘<i>Pierre</i>,’ I cried out. Her joy was unbounded +when we understood her; and, bringing the +gown close to the stone, she made quick and repeated +signs of cutting her throat, and began to dance and clap +her hands. This strange pantomime excited an emotion +in our minds which it is impossible to describe, as we +ventured to hope that it gave us the announcement of +<i>Robespierre’s</i> death.</p> +<p>“Whilst we were in this state of suspense, we heard +a great noise in the passage, and the formidable voice +of the keeper, who, giving a kick to his dog, said to +the animal, ‘Get out of the way, you d—d brute of a +Robespierre.’ This energetic phraseology proved to +us that France was rid of her tyrant. In fact, our +companions in misfortune came in soon afterwards, +and gave us the details of the important event. My +hammock was brought back to me, and I never enjoyed +a quieter night. I fell asleep, after saying to my +friends, ‘You see that I am not guillotined; I shall yet +be queen of France!’”</p> +<p>Notwithstanding this confidence, Josephine had devoted +a portion of her last day to writing a last farewell +to her children. Here are extracts from it: +“My children, your father is dead, and your mother is +about to follow him; but as, before that final stroke, +the assassins leave me a few moments to myself, I wish +to employ them in writing to you. Socrates, when +condemned, philosophized with his disciples; a mother, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_229' name='page_229'></a>229</span> +on the point of undergoing a similar fate, may discourse +with her children. My last sigh will be for +you, and I wish to make my last words a lasting lesson. +Time was, when I gave you lessons in a more pleasing +way; but the present will not be the less useful, that it +is given at so serious a moment. I have the weakness +to water it with my tears; I shall soon have the courage +to seal it with my blood. * * * I am about to die as your +father died, a victim of the fury he always opposed, but +to which he fell a sacrifice. I leave life without hatred +of France and its assassins; but I am penetrated with +sorrow for the misfortunes of my country. Honor my +memory in sharing my sentiments. I leave for your +inheritance the glory of your father, and the name of +your mother, whom some who have been unfortunate +will bear in remembrance.” In more prosperous days, +the poor and the distressed had ever found Josephine’s +heart and hand open for their relief. She was now +herself obliged to rely upon the benevolence of others +for her own subsistence, and of the services she then +received, she ever retained a grateful recollection. +She had been most affected by the attentions of +Madame Dumoulin, and felt great delight, in after +years, in adverting to the subject. At this period of +general scarcity, this benevolent lady every day entertained +at her table a party of those whose means were +more limited. Madame de Beauharnais was a regular +guest. Bread was at this time so scarce as to be a +subject of legal enactment, restricting the quantity +allowed to each person to two ounces. Guests at the +houses of the most opulent, even, were expected to +bring their own bread. Aware that Madame de Beauharnais +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_230' name='page_230'></a>230</span> +was in more distressed circumstances than +the rest, Madame Dumoulin dispensed with this practice +in her favor, thereby justifying the expression of +the latter, that she received <i>her daily bread</i> from her.</p> +<p>Tallien, Barras, and those who succeeded to power, +on the fall of the terrorists, being themselves not destitute +of refinement, were desirous that society should +emerge from the state of barbarism into which it had +fallen. Madame Tallien, distinguished for grace, +beauty, and brilliancy of wit, exerted all her charms +to diffuse a taste for the courtesies and amenities of +civilized life, and thus to soften the sanguinary spirit +which had led to so many atrocities. Calling to her +assistance her intimate friend, Madame de Beauharnais, +the task was soon, to some extent, accomplished. +Private individuals did not yet dare to make any show +of wealth by receiving company habitually at their +own houses. Public balls, and public concerts at the +Hotels Thelusson and Richelieu, were the fashion. +Here persons of all opinions, of all castes, intermingled, +and laughed and danced together in the +utmost harmony. The influence of Madame Tallien +was at this time very great, and under her protection +many an <i>emigré</i> returned, and many a royalist +emerged from the hiding-place to figure in these gay +scenes. Most of them submitted with a good grace to +the new order of things. It sometimes chanced, however, +that curiosity or ennui would lead thither some +who could not so readily lay aside feelings and habits +acquired under the old <i>régime</i>, and scenes would +occur not a little amusing to the philosophic observer, +who, had he possessed the gift of second sight, would +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_231' name='page_231'></a>231</span> +have been doubly amused. One of these is thus +related by a contemporary. Madame de D. was one +evening persuaded, by the old Marquis d’Hautefort, so +far to lay aside her prejudices as to accompany him, +with her daughter, to a ball at Thelusson’s. The party +arrived late. The room was crowded. By dint of +elbowing and entreaties, they reached the centre. To +find two seats together was impossible, and Madame +de D., who was not of a timid nature, looked about on +all sides to find at least one. Her eyes encountered +a young and charming face, surrounded by a profusion +of light hair, looking slyly forth from a pair of +large, dark-blue eyes, and exhibiting altogether the +image of the most graceful of sylphs. This young +lady was conducted back to her seat by M. de T., +which proved that she danced well; for none other +were invited to be his partners. The graceful creature, +after courtesying, with a blush, to the Vestris of +the ball-rooms, sat down by the side of a female, who +appeared to be her elder sister, and whose elegant +dress excited the notice and envy of all the women at +the ball. “Who are those persons?” said Madame de +D. “What, is it possible that you do not know the +Viscountess Beauharnais?” said the marquis. “It is +she and her daughter. There is a vacant place by +her; come and sit down; you may renew your acquaintance +with her.” Madame de D., without making +any reply, gave such a tug at the arm of the marquis +as to draw him, whether he would or not, into one of +the little saloons. “Are you mad?” said she to him. +“A pretty place, truly, by the side of Madame Beauharnais! +Ernestine would of course have been obliged +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_232' name='page_232'></a>232</span> +to make acquaintance with her daughter. Marquis, +you must have lost your wits.”</p> +<p>In the month of May, 1795, Napoleon Bonaparte +came to Paris. His energies and talents had already +attracted the notice of some of the leading men, especially +of Barras, who had witnessed his conduct at +Toulon. Upon the establishment of the Directory, he +was appointed general-in-chief of the army of the +interior, and commandant of Paris. In this latter +capacity he had his first particular interview with +Josephine. It had been his duty to disarm the citizens, +and he had thus become possessed of the sword +of Viscount Beauharnais. Eugene, who had a reverential +admiration of his father, wished to obtain so +precious a relic. Though not yet fourteen, he presented +himself at the levee of the commander-in-chief, +and solicited the restoration of his father’s sword. +His frank and gallant bearing pleased the general, +who immediately granted the request.</p> +<p>The next day, Madame Beauharnais called at the +head-quarters, to thank the general for his condescension +to her son. They had before met at the table of +Barras; but a disappointed, and, in some degree, disgraced +officer was not likely to attract the regards of one +already looked upon as among the most distinguished +ladies in France. But the circumstances of their +present interview served to infuse a particular interest +into their previous acquaintance. Bonaparte returned +the visit. He became a suitor in his turn. Josephine, +besides her intimacy with Madame Tallien, herself +exerted great influence over those in power, and could +do much to secure the position of the young soldier. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_233' name='page_233'></a>233</span> +Ambition, as well as love, being his prompters, Bonaparte +was not the man to fail, gifted, as he appears to +have been, from Josephine’s own confession, with unequalled +powers of persuasion. The nuptials were +celebrated March 9th, 1796, and twelve days after, +Bonaparte left Paris to take the command of the army +of Italy—an appointment which Barras had promised, +as it were, as a dowry for Josephine.</p> +<p>Amidst the exciting, and, one would think, all-absorbing +events of that wonderful campaign, Josephine was +always in the thoughts of the youthful conqueror. +His constant letters breathe the most romantic passion, +couched in the most ardent language. By some +accident, the glass of a miniature of his bride, which +he constantly wore about his person, was broken; how +he knew not. This simple occurrence he conceived +to be a prognostication of the death of the original, +and enjoyed no peace of mind, until a courier, despatched +express, returned with tidings of her safety.</p> +<p>The campaign finished, Josephine joined her husband +at the head-quarters at Montebello, where a +crowd of princes, nobles, and ambassadors, had assembled +to settle with the conqueror the terms of +peace. Add to these a crowd of young and gallant +Frenchmen, the officers of the army, flushed with +victory, and we have a picture of a court as brilliant +as can well be conceived. All vied in assiduous attention +to her who was beloved and honored by the general. +All was joy and festivity. The most magnificent +entertainments were varied by excursions among +the enchanting scenery around. For all this Josephine +was indebted to her husband, and it was all enjoyed in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_234' name='page_234'></a>234</span> +his company. In after life, she often reverted to +this as the happiest period of her existence. Of her +conduct in this new position, Bonaparte himself +remarked, “I conquer provinces, Josephine gains +hearts.”</p> +<p>When the expedition to Egypt was determined upon, +a new armament was to be organized, and great difficulties +to be overcome. While her husband passed +the day, and frequently great part of the night, in his +cabinet, or at the Luxemburg, in wringing from the +Directory reluctant consent to his measures, Josephine, +in the saloon, was equally active in attaching new or +confirming old adherents. Never were those conciliating +manners for which she was so celebrated more +successfully employed, than in the dawn of her husband’s +fortunes. Not a few were thus won to a standard +which they were destined to display over so many +prostrate capitals of Europe. Under her auspices, too, +were formed some unions, more in consonance with +her own gentle nature. “Habit,” said the empress, +long afterwards, “has rendered the practice familiar; +but there is only one occasion on which I should voluntarily +say, <i>I will</i>; namely, when I would say, <i>I will</i> +that all around me be happy.”</p> +<p>The greater portion of the time of her husband’s +absence in the East was passed by her at Malmaison, +an estate which she purchased, about twelve miles +from Paris. Here she occupied herself in the education +of her daughter, in the improvement of the +grounds, and in watching over and securing the interests +of her husband. To this end it was necessary +that she should see much company; but she received +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_235' name='page_235'></a>235</span> +none to her intimacy, except a few of her ancient +female friends.</p> +<p>Leading a life above reproach, there were about +her concealed enemies, who watched in order to misrepresent +every action; of these the most active were +her own brothers and sisters-in-law, who, needy and +rapacious, and totally dependent on their brother, +viewed with jealous alarm any influence which threatened +the exclusive dominion they wished to maintain +over his mind. In the Syrian camp there were found +creatures base enough to be the instruments of conveying +their slanders to their destination. A repetition +of these produced at length some effect on the +jealous temper of the husband, as was obvious from +the altered tone of his letters, which had hitherto been +full of the most tender and confiding affection. On +his return, however, an explanation took place, which +left not a shade of suspicion on his mind; nor was the +union ever afterwards disturbed from the same cause.</p> +<p>The crisis which Bonaparte had foreseen at length +arrived; the people demanded the overthrow of the +weak and tyrannical government. During the 19th of +Brumaire, Josephine remained at home, in the most +anxious inquietude, relieved, indeed, from time to time, +by her husband’s attention in despatching notes of what +was passing at St. Cloud. When night, however, and +at last morning, came, without sight, or even tidings, +of him, she was in a condition bordering on distraction. +In this state, she had retired to bed, when, at length, +about four in the morning, the <i>Consul</i> entered the +apartment. A lively conversation ensued, and Bonaparte +gayly announced that the fate of thirty millions +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_236' name='page_236'></a>236</span> +of people bad passed into his hands, by the remark, +“Good night—to-morrow we sleep in the Luxemburg.”</p> +<p>The palace of the Luxemburg was soon found “<i>trop +étroit</i>,”—too confined,—and the consuls removed +their residence to the Tuileries, the ancient palace of +the kings, now disguised by the title of the “governmental +palace.” To the wife of the “first consul” +a portion of the former royal apartments was assigned, +and here, soon after the installation, she made her first +essay in the grand observances of empire. On the +evening of her first levee, the drawing-rooms were +crowded, at an early hour, by a most brilliant assembly, +and so numerous, that the doors of her private +apartments were thrown open. Madame Bonaparte +was announced, and entered, conducted by M. de Talleyrand, +then minister for foreign affairs. A momentary +feeling of disappointment may have crossed the +minds of those who had looked for magnificence and +state. Josephine was attired with the utmost simplicity, +in a robe of white muslin: her hair, without decoration +of any kind, and merely retained by a plain comb, fell +in tresses upon her neck, in the most becoming negligence; +a collar of pearls harmonized with and completed +this unpretending costume. A spontaneous +murmur of admiration followed her entrance: such +were the grace and dignity of her deportment, that, in +the absence of all the external attributes of rank, a +stranger would have fixed upon the principal personage +in the circle, as readily as if radiant with diamonds and +stars of every order. Making the tour of the apartments, +the ambassadors from foreign powers were first +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_237' name='page_237'></a>237</span> +introduced to her. When these were nearly completed, +the first consul entered, but without being announced, +dressed in a plain uniform, with a sash of +tri-colored silk. In this simplicity there were both good +taste and sound policy. The occasion was not a royal +levee; it was merely the first magistrate and his wife +receiving the congratulations of their fellow-citizens.</p> +<p>Josephine was at this time thirty-six years old; but +she yet retained those personal advantages which +usually belong only to more youthful years. The +surpassing elegance and taste displayed in the mysteries +of the toilet were doubtless not without their influence +in prolonging the empire of beauty; but nature +had been originally bountiful. Her stature was exactly +that perfection which is neither too tall for female +delicacy, nor so diminutive as to detract from dignity. +Her person was faultlessly symmetrical, and the lightness +and elasticity of its action gave an aërial character +to her graceful carriage. Her features were small +and finely modelled, of a Grecian cast. The habitual +character of her countenance was a placid sweetness. +“Never,” says a very honest admirer, “did any woman +better justify the saying, ‘The eyes are the mirror of +the soul.’” Josephine’s were of a deep blue, clear +and brilliant, usually lying half concealed under their +long and silky eyelashes. The winning tenderness of +her mild, subdued glance had a power which could tranquillize +Napoleon in his darkest moods. Her hair was +“glossy chestnut brown,” harmonizing delightfully with +a clear and transparent complexion, and neck of almost +dazzling whiteness. Her voice has already been mentioned; +it constituted one of her most pleasing attractions, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_238' name='page_238'></a>238</span> +and rendered her conversation the most captivating +that can easily be conceived.</p> +<p>On the 7th of May, 1800, the first consul took leave +of his wife, on his departure for Italy. “Courage,” +said he, “my good Josephine! I shall not forget thee, +nor will my absence be long.” To both promises he +was faithful. On the 2d of July, less than two months +after he left Paris, he again slept at the Tuileries, having, +in that brief space, broken the strength of the +mighty armies which opposed him, wrested Italy, which +the Austrians had reconquered during his absence in +the East, again from their power, and thus laid deep +the foundations of his future empire. During this brilliant +campaign, Josephine’s absorbing enjoyment was +to read the letters from Italy. These, in the handwriting +of the consul, or dictated to his secretary, arrived +almost daily at Malmaison, where she had resided, +superintending the improvements. At this +period, too, she began a collection of rare animals; +to which the power or conquests of her husband, or +a grateful remembrance of her own kindness, brought +her accessions from all quarters of the globe.</p> +<p>The first consul now had leisure to enjoy the tranquillity +which he had restored. The <i>jours de congé</i>, +or <i>holydays</i>, on which, retiring to Malmaison, he threw +off the cares of state, now came round more frequently. +His visitors, on these occasions, were, besides the chief +officers of state and of the army, the persons most +distinguished for talent and for birth, the historic names +of the olden time mingling with the new men of the +revolution. Josephine received her visitors with elegance +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_239' name='page_239'></a>239</span> +and grace, and with a simplicity which placed +every one perfectly at his ease. The amusements +were of the simplest kind. The favorite was the familiar, +schoolboy game of “prison-bars.” Bonaparte, +in the selection of partisans, always chose Josephine, +never suffering her to be in any camp but his own. +When by chance she was taken prisoner, he seemed +uneasy till she was released, making all exertions for +that purpose, though a bad runner himself, often coming +down, in mid career, plump upon the grass. Up +again, however, he started, but usually so convulsed +with laughter that he could not move, and the affair +generally ended in his own captivity.</p> +<p>But Josephine did not neglect the higher duties of +her station. From the moment she had the power, her +endeavors were used to alleviate the misfortunes of +those whom the revolution had driven into exile, and +a considerable portion of her income was devoted to +their support. To the general act of amnesty, which +the consul had issued on his access to power, there +were many exceptions. To smooth the difficulties +which lay in the way of the return of such, Josephine’s +influence and exertions were seldom denied, +and rarely unsuccessful. “Josephine,” as her husband +remarked, “will not take a refusal; but, it must +be confessed, she rarely undertakes a cause that has +not propriety, at least, on its side.”</p> +<p>In May, 1804, destiny was fulfilled in the prediction +of which Josephine had professed so long to believe. +On the 18th of that month, the Senate, headed by the +ex-second consul, proceeded in state to her apartments, +and saluted her as Empress of the French. She received +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_240' name='page_240'></a>240</span> +their congratulations with emotion, but with her +accustomed benignity and grace. The succeeding +night was passed by her in tears. “To be the wife +of the <i>first consul</i>, fulfilled her utmost ambition.” +Presentiments of evil now filled her bosom. The ambition +of founding a new dynasty had found a place in +the breast of the <i>consul</i>: would not this increase in +strength in that of the <i>emperor</i>? The hopes of establishing +it in his own line were now little likely to be +realized, and the enemies of Josephine had already +hinted at a divorce. What impression these might +have made had been effaced for the time by the grant +of power to Bonaparte to name his successor in the +consulship, and by the birth of a son to Louis, who had +married Hortense, but especially by his undiminished +affection for his wife. He now had the inducement +of seeking, by new family ties, to secure the stability +of his throne. But such thoughts did not permanently +disturb the repose of Josephine. Impressions +were readily made, and as quickly effaced; and +she possessed the true secret of happiness—the art +of postponing imaginary evil, and of enjoying the +real good of the moment.</p> +<p>In her new situation Josephine found another source +of sorrow. The state and ceremony of the consulship +had sadly marred the pleasures of domestic intercourse. +But now she found herself alone, above the kindly +glow of equal affections—a wretched condition for +one “whose first desire was to be loved.” She sought, +however, by increased kindness, to lessen the distance +between herself and her old friends and companions. +Nothing could be more amiable than the reception +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_241' name='page_241'></a>241</span> +which she gave to those who came to take the oaths +of fidelity on receiving appointments in her household. +She took care to remove all ostentatious ceremony, +talked to them on familiar topics, and sought to make +the whole pass as an agreement between two friends +to love each other. This condescension extended +even to her humble domestics, yet never degenerated +into undignified familiarity or absence of self-possession, +as the following little incident will show. On the +first occasion of her leaving St. Cloud for a distant +excursion as empress, she traversed a whole suit of +apartments to give directions to a very subaltern person +of the household. The grand steward ventured to +remonstrate on her thus compromising her dignity. +The empress gayly replied, “You are quite right, my +good sir; such neglect of etiquette would be altogether +inexcusable in a princess trained from birth +to the restraints of a throne; but have the goodness +to recollect that I have enjoyed the felicity of living +so many years as a private individual, and do not take +it amiss if I sometimes venture to speak kindly to my +servants without an interpreter.”</p> +<p>The frequent excursions made by the court formed +a principal class of events in Josephine’s life as empress; +they constituted those alternations which gave +her most pleasure. When such journeys were in contemplation, +none knew the hour of departure, or even +the route—a secrecy adopted to guard against conspiracies. +“We set out at such an hour,” generally an +early one, Napoleon would carelessly say, as he retired +for the night. By the appointed hour every preparation +was made, and the imperial travellers departed.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_242' name='page_242'></a>242</span></div> +<p>Sometimes Josephine travelled alone; and, on such +occasions, every thing was arranged beforehand, including +the replies she was to make to the addresses +made to her, and the presents she was to bestow. +Even the most minute thing was set down in a huge +manuscript volume, which Josephine diligently conned +previous to every ceremony. But if any thing chanced +to escape her memory in this multiplicity of details, +her unpremeditated answers or arrangements were +always delivered with so much eloquence and propriety, +or marked with such perfect kindness, that all +parties were satisfied. Sometimes, however, a little +mistake occurred, as, for example, on departing from +Rheims, Josephine presented the mayoress with a +medalion of malakite, set with diamonds, using the +expression, “It is the emblem of hope.” Some days +after, on seeing this absurdity in one of the journals, she +could not believe that she had used it, and despatched +a courier instantly to Napoleon, fearing his displeasure +above all things. This occasioned the famous order +that no journalist should report any speech of the +emperor or empress, unless the same had previously +appeared in the “<i>Moniteur</i>.” But Josephine usually +adhered with scrupulous exactness to her written instructions. +“He has said it, and it must be right,” was +the constant remark with which she silenced all suggestions +of change. On these excursions, every thing +like vain etiquette was laid aside: every thing passed +as if among a party of equals, on an excursion of +pleasure, each being bound to supply a modicum to the +common fund of enjoyment; the empress studying +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_243' name='page_243'></a>243</span> +opportunities of showing those attentions which cost so +little, and yet go so far in winning a way to the heart.</p> +<p>Charlemagne had received the holy unction from +the hands of the head of the Catholic church. Napoleon +aspired to the same distinction, but with this +difference,—instead of going to Rome to receive it, the +pope was brought to Paris to administer it. He suffered +much from the climate of France, which was too +severe for his delicate health. The solicitude of the +empress to provide for his comfort was extreme. The +orders of the emperor had provided every thing that +could be deemed necessary; but the observant delicacy +of the empress supplied many wants which +might else have been overlooked. Every day she +sent to inquire after his welfare, frequently visited, and +sometimes corresponded with him. The following +letter, addressed to him, does equal credit to her +head and to her heart:—</p> +<blockquote> +<h3>“<span class='smcap'>The Empress to his Holiness Pius VII.</span></h3> +<p>“Whatever experience of human change the knowledge +of our religion may have taught, your holiness +will view, doubtless, not without astonishment, an obscure +woman ready to receive from your hands the +first among the crowns of Europe. In an event so far +beyond the ordinary course, she recognizes and blesses +the work of the Almighty, without daring to inquire into +his purposes. But, holy father, I should be ungrateful, +even while I magnified the power of God, if I poured +not out my soul into the paternal bosom of him who +has been chosen to represent his providence—if I +confided not to you my secret thoughts. The first and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_244' name='page_244'></a>244</span> +chief of these is the conviction of my own weakness +and incapacity. Of myself I can do nothing, or, to +speak more correctly, the little I can do is derived from +that extraordinary man with whom my lot is cast. * * * +How many are the difficulties which surround the station +to which he has raised me! I do not speak of +the corruption, which, in the midst of greatness, has +tainted the purest minds; I can rely upon my own, so +far as, in this respect, not to fear elevation. But from +a height whence all other dignities appear mean, how +shall I distinguish real poverty? Ah, truly do I feel +that, in becoming empress of the French, I ought also +to become to them as a mother. But of what avail +are intentions? Deeds are what the people have a +right to demand of me, and your holiness, who so +well replies to the respectful love of your subjects +by continual acts of justice and benevolence, more +than any other sovereign, is qualified to instruct me. +O, then, holy father, may you, with the sacred unctions +poured upon my head, not only awaken me to the +truth of these precepts which my heart acknowledges, +but also confirm the resolution of applying them to +practice!”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>On the 2d of December, 1804, Napoleon placed the +imperial crown upon the head of Josephine, as she +knelt before him on the platform of the throne in the +cathedral of Notre Dame. Her appearance at this +moment was most touching; tears of deep emotion fell +from her eyes; she remained for a space kneeling, +with hands crossed upon her bosom, then, slowly and +gracefully rising, fixed upon her husband a look of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_245' name='page_245'></a>245</span> +gratitude and tenderness. Napoleon returned the +glance. It was a silent but conscious interchange of +the hopes, the promises, and the memories, of years.</p> +<p>In the spring of the following year, at Milan, Josephine +received from her husband the crown of the +ancient Lombard sovereigns. The festivities which +followed were interrupted by a summons to put down +a new combination against France. She resolved to +accompany the emperor on his return to Paris, though +suffering most severely from the rapidity of the journey. +At each change of horses, it was necessary to throw +water on the smoking wheels; yet Napoleon kept calling +from the carriage, “On, on! We do not move!”</p> +<p>On his departure for the splendid campaign of Austerlitz, +Josephine was appointed regent of the empire. +The victory, decisive of the fate of Austria, was +productive of renewed pleasure to the empress, by the +marriage of her Eugene with the princess royal of +Bavaria. Joyfully obeying the mandate which was +to restore her for a time to the society of those she +loved, the empress left Paris for Munich, where the +marriage was celebrated. This union proved a most +happy one; and the domestic felicity of her son—now +made viceroy of Italy—constituted, both in her prosperous +and adverse fortunes, a cause of rejoicing to Josephine. +Her daughter, Hortense, soon after became +queen of Holland. Could grandeur command or insure +happiness, Josephine had subsequently never +known misfortune. Every wish, save one, was gratified. +She found herself on the most splendid of European +thrones, beloved by the wonderful man who +had placed her there, adored by the French nation, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_246' name='page_246'></a>246</span> +and respected even by enemies. Her children occupied +stations second only to herself, with the prospect, +either directly or in their issue, of succeeding to empire +when death should relax the giant grasp which +now swayed the sceptre.</p> +<p>All these brilliant prospects were closed to her by +the death, in 1807, of her grandson, the prince royal +of Holland. This boy had gained, in an astonishing +manner, upon the affections and hopes of his uncle, and +there seems to be no reason for discrediting the belief +of the emperor’s intention to adopt him as his successor. +Napoleon was strongly affected by the loss +of his little favorite, and was often heard to exclaim, +amidst the labors of his cabinet, “To whom shall I +leave all this?”</p> +<p>To Josephine this loss was irremediable: hers was +a grief not less acute, yet greater, than a mother’s +sorrow; for, while she grieved for a beloved child, she +trembled to think of the consequences to herself.</p> +<p>But for two years longer she enjoyed such happiness +as Damocles may be supposed to have felt with the +sword suspended over his head. The final blow was not +struck till 1809. On the 26th of October of that year, +Napoleon, having once more reduced Austria to sue +for peace, arrived most unexpectedly at Fontainbleau. +The court was at St. Cloud, and there were none to receive +him. A courier was despatched to inform Josephine, +who instantly obeyed the summons. During +the succeeding night, it is supposed that Napoleon first +opened to her the subject of a separation; for from the +morning of the 27th, it was evident that they lived in a +state of constant restraint and mutual observation; Napoleon +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_247' name='page_247'></a>247</span> +scarcely venturing to look upon Josephine, save +when he was not observed; while she hung upon every +glance, and trembled at every word, at the same time +that both endeavored to be composed and natural in +their demeanor before the courtiers. But these are +quicksighted to detect any change of condition in their +superiors; nor was it one of the least of Josephine’s +troubles to be exposed to their ingratitude. “In what +self-restraint,” said she, “did I pass the period during +which, though no longer his wife, I was obliged to +appear so to all eyes! Ah, what looks are those +which courtiers suffer to fall upon a repudiated wife!” +The circumstance which, more than others, excited +suspicion, was the shutting up, by the emperor’s commands, +of the private access between their apartments. +Formerly, their intercourse had thus been free, even +amid the restraints of a court. Napoleon would surprise +Josephine in her <i>boudoir</i>, and she would steal +upon his moments of relaxation in his cabinet. But +now all was reversed; the former never entered, but +knocked when he would speak to the latter, who hardly +dared to obey the signal, the sound of which caused +such violent palpitations of the heart, that she had to +support herself against the wall as she tottered towards +the little door, on the other side of which Napoleon +waited her approach. At these conferences he sought +to persuade her of the political necessity and advantages +of a separation—a measure which he at first +rather hinted at than disclosed as a matter determined +upon.</p> +<p>But it was not the less fixed, and on the 30th of +November, after dinner, the emperor ordered his attendants +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_248' name='page_248'></a>248</span> +to withdraw. Of what passed at this interview +Josephine has been the chronicler. “I watched,” +says she, “in the changing expression of his countenance +that struggle which was in his soul. At length +his features settled into stern resolve. I saw that my +hour was come. His whole frame trembled; he approached, +and I felt a shuddering horror come over +me. He took my hand, placed it upon his heart, +gazed upon me for a moment, then pronounced these +fearful words: ‘Josephine! my excellent Josephine! +thou knowest if I have loved thee! To thee, to +thee alone, do I owe the only moments of happiness +which I have enjoyed in this world. Josephine! my +destiny overmasters my will. My dearest affections +must be silent before the interests of France. Say +no more.’ I had still strength sufficient to reply, ‘I +was prepared for this, but the blow is not the less +mortal.’ More I could not utter. I became unconscious +of every thing, and, on returning to my senses, +found I had been carried to my chamber.”</p> +<p>During the interval between the private announcement +of the divorce and the 16th of December, the +most splendid public rejoicings took place on the anniversary +of the coronation, and in commemoration of +the victories of the German campaign. At all these, +Josephine appeared in the pomp and circumstance of +station, and even with a smiling countenance, while +her heart was breaking.</p> +<p>On the 15th of December, the council of state were +first officially informed of the intended separation. +On the 16th, the whole imperial family assembled in +the grand saloon at the Tuileries. Napoleon’s was the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_249' name='page_249'></a>249</span> +only countenance which betrayed emotion. He stood +motionless as a statue, his arms crossed upon his +breast, without uttering a single word. The members +of his family were seated around, showing in their +expression a satisfaction that one was to be removed +who had so long held influence, gently exerted as it +had been, over their brother. In the centre of the +apartment was an arm-chair, and before it a little +table, with a writing apparatus of gold. A door +opened, and Josephine, pale, but calm, appeared, +leaning on the arm of her daughter. Both were +dressed in the simplest manner. All rose on her +entrance. She moved slowly, and with wonted grace, +to the seat prepared for her, and, her head supported +on her hand, listened to the reading of the act of separation. +Behind her chair stood Hortense, whose sobs +were audible; and a little farther on, towards Napoleon, +Eugene, trembling, as if incapable of supporting +himself. It had required all a mother’s influence to +prevent him, on the first announcement of that mother’s +wrongs, from abandoning the service of the wrong-doer; +that influence had done more; it had persuaded +him not only to witness her own renouncement of the +crown, but to be present at the coronation of her successor.</p> +<p>Josephine heard with composure—the tears coursing +each other down her cheeks—the words which +placed an eternal barrier between affection and its object. +This painful duty over, pressing for an instant +the handkerchief to her eyes, she rose, and, in a voice +but slightly tremulous, pronounced the oath of acceptance; +then, sitting down, she took the pen and signed. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_250' name='page_250'></a>250</span> +The mother and daughter now retired, followed by +Eugene, who appears to have suffered the most severely +of the three; for he had no sooner reached the +ante-chamber, than he fell lifeless on the floor.</p> +<p>The emperor returned to his cabinet, silent and sad. +He threw himself on a sofa in a state of complete +prostration. Thus he remained for some minutes, his +head resting on his hand; and, when he rose, his features +were distorted. Orders had previously been given to +proceed to Trianon. When the carriages were announced, +he took his hat, and proceeded by the private +staircase to the apartment of Josephine. She was +alone. At the noise caused by the entrance of the +emperor, she rose quickly, and threw herself, sobbing, +on his neck: he held her to his breast, and embraced +her several times; but, overcome by her emotions, she +fainted. As soon as she exhibited signs of returning +sensation, the emperor, wishing to avoid the renewal +of a scene of grief which he could not calm, placing +her in the arms of an officer who had attended him, +and who relates the occurrence, he withdrew rapidly +to his carriage. Josephine immediately perceived +his absence, and her sobs and moans increased. Her +female attendants, who had come in, placed her on a +couch. In her agony, she seized the hands of the +officer, and besought him to tell the emperor not to +forget her, and to assure him that her attachment +would survive all contingencies. It was with difficulty +that she suffered him to leave her, as if his absence +severed the last link by which she still held to the +emperor.</p> +<p>Henceforward, the life of Josephine, passed either +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_251' name='page_251'></a>251</span> +at Malmaison or Navarre, offers but few incidents. +The emperor would not suffer any change to be +made in the regal state to which she had been accustomed +at the Tuileries. Her household was on a scale +of imperial magnificence. She continued to receive +the visits, almost the homage, of the members of the +court of Napoleon and Maria Louisa; for it was +quickly discovered, that, however unpleasant to her +new rival, such visits were recommendations to the +emperor’s favor. The apartments in which the empress +received her guests were elegant, the furniture +being covered with needle-work, wrought by the empress +and her ladies; but the residence altogether was +small—an inconvenience increased through Josephine’s +veneration of every thing that had been Napoleon’s. +The apartment he had occupied remained exactly as +he had left it; she would not suffer a chair to be +moved, and, indeed, very rarely permitted any person +to enter, keeping the key herself, and dusting the +articles with her own hands. On the table was a +volume of history, with the page doubled down where +he had finished reading; beside it lay a pen, with the +ink dried upon the point, and a map of the world, on +which he was accustomed to point out his plans to +those in his confidence, and which still showed on its +surface many marks of his impatience. These Josephine +would allow to be touched on no account. +By the wall stood his camp-bed, without curtains; +above hung his arms; on different pieces of furniture +lay different articles of apparel, just as Napoleon had +flung them from him.</p> +<p>It was long before the harassed feelings of Josephine +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_252' name='page_252'></a>252</span> +were sufficiently calmed to take any interest in common +affairs. So severe had been her sufferings, that +it was six months before her sight recovered from the +effects of inflammation and swelling of the eyes. The +first circumstance which produced something like a +change for the better, was her removal to Navarre, the +repairing of which became at once a source of amusement +and a means of benevolence. This once royal +residence had suffered from the revolution, and was +nearly in a state of dilapidation. The restoration of +the buildings and grounds furnished employment to +great numbers of people; and Josephine, in addition to +the pleasures of planting and agriculture, enjoyed the +delight—to her more dear—of spreading comfort and +fertility over a region where before reigned extreme +misery.</p> +<p>Her life at Navarre was now more agreeable to her, +because free from the restraints of etiquette. Though +constantly surrounded by the pomp of a court, her +courtiers were for the most part old and valued friends, +with whom she lived rather in society, than as mistress +and dependants. She exhausted every means to render +their retreat agreeable to them—a retreat, however, +recompensed by salaries equal to those of the +imperial court, and which conciliated Napoleon’s approval. +Benevolence and kindliness of feeling were +the leading traits of Josephine’s character; besides distributing, +by the hands of competent and pious persons, +a large portion of her limited revenues in relieving +distress wherever it occurred, she kept constantly +about her a number of young ladies, orphans of +ancient houses, now fallen into decay, to whom she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_253' name='page_253'></a>253</span> +not only gave an accomplished education, but watched +over their establishment in life with parental solicitude.</p> +<p>The first event of importance which broke in upon +the tranquillity of Josephine’s life, was the birth of the +king of Rome. It happened that the whole household +were at Evreux, at a grand entertainment, when the +news reached that place. The party returned immediately +to the palace, where Josephine had remained. +“I confess,” says a youthful member of +the party, “that my boundless affection for Josephine +caused me violent sorrow, when I thought that she +who occupied her place was now completely happy. +Knowing but imperfectly the grandeur of soul which +characterized the empress, her absolute devotion to +the happiness of the emperor, I imagined there must +still remain in her so much of the woman as would +excite bitter regret at not having been the mother of a +son so ardently desired. I judged like a frivolous +person, who had never known cares beyond those of +a ball. On arriving at the palace, I learned how to +appreciate one who had been so long the cherished +companion, and always the true friend, of Napoleon. +I beheld every face beaming with joy, and Josephine’s +more radiant than any. No sooner had the party +entered than she eagerly asked for details. ‘How +happy,’ said she, ‘the emperor must be! I rejoice +that my painful sacrifice has proved so useful for +France. One thing only makes me sad; not having +been informed of his happiness by the emperor himself; +but then he had so many orders to give, so many +congratulations to receive. Yes, ladies, there must be +a <i>fête</i> to celebrate this event; the whole city of +Evreux must come to rejoice with us; I can never +have too many people on this occasion.’”</p> +<div class='figcenter'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_8' id='linki_8'></a> +</div> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_254' name='page_254'></a>254</span> +<img src='images/illo-254.png' alt='' title='' width='379' height='550' /> +<br /> +<p class='caption'> +MARIA LOUISA.<br /> +</p> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_255' name='page_255'></a>255</span></div> +<p>The emperor’s omission seems to have greatly +pained Josephine; for the same night she wrote him +a delicate and touching letter, from which these are +extracts:—</p> +<p>“Sire,—Amid the numerous felicitations which +you receive from every corner of Europe, can the +feeble voice of a woman reach your ear, and will you +deign to listen to her who has so often consoled your +sorrows, and sweetened your pains, now that she +speaks to you only of that happiness in which all your +wishes are fulfilled? Having ceased to be your wife, +dare I felicitate you on becoming a father? Yes, sire, +without hesitation; for my soul renders justice to yours, +as you know mine. Though separated, we are united +by a sympathy which survives all events. I should +have desired to learn the birth of the king of Rome +from yourself, and not from the cannons of Evreux; +but I know that your first attentions are due to the +public authorities, to your own family, and especially +to the fortunate princess who has realized your dearest +hopes. She cannot be more devoted to you than I; +but she has been enabled to contribute more towards +your happiness, by securing that of France. Not till +you have ceased to watch by her bed, not till you are +weary of embracing your son, will you take the pen +to converse with your best friend. I wait.”</p> +<p>The next day, Eugene arrived, charged with a message +from the emperor: “Tell your mother,” said he, +“that I am certain she will rejoice more than any one +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_256' name='page_256'></a>256</span> +at my good fortune. I would have written to her already, +had I not been completely absorbed in looking +at my son. I tear myself from him only to attend to +the most indispensable duties. This evening I will +discharge the sweetest of all—I will write to Josephine.” +Accordingly, about eleven o’clock the same +evening, the folding-doors were opened in great form, +and the announcement, “From the emperor,” ushered +in one of his own pages, bearer of a letter from Napoleon. +The empress retired to read this ardently-desired +epistle; and on her return it was easy to see that +she had been weeping. The curiosity of her court +was gratified by hearing various portions of the letter, +which concluded in these words: “This infant, in concert +with <i>our Eugene</i>, will constitute my happiness, +and that of France.” “Is it possible,” said Josephine, +“to be more amiable? or could any thing be better +calculated to soothe whatever might be painful in my +thoughts at this moment, did I not so ardently love +the emperor? This uniting of my son with his own +is worthy of him, who, when he wills, is the most +delightful man in the world.”</p> +<p>From their separation, the correspondence between +Napoleon and Josephine continued undiminished in +respect and affection. Notes from the emperor arrived +weekly, and he never returned from any journey +or long absence without seeing the “illustrious +solitary.” No sooner had he alighted, than a messenger, +usually his own confidential attendant, was +despatched to Malmaison: “Tell the empress I am +well, and desire to hear that she is happy.” In every +thing Napoleon continued to evince for her the most +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_257' name='page_257'></a>257</span> +confiding tenderness. All the private griefs in which +Josephine had shared, and the sorrows to which she +had ministered, were still disclosed to her. He gave +a further proof of it by allowing her frequently to see +his son—a communication which the jealous temper of +Maria Louisa would have sought to prevent, had it not +been secretly managed. Josephine had so far complied +with the wishes of the emperor as to attempt an +intercourse with her successor. “But the latter,” to +use Josephine’s own words, “rejected the proposal in a +manner which prevented me from renewing it. I am +sorry for it; her presence would have given me no +uneasiness, and I might have bestowed good counsel +as to the best means of pleasing the emperor.”</p> +<p>The personal intercourse between Napoleon and +Josephine was conducted with the most decorous attention +to appearances. It ended in one hurried and +distressful interview after the return of Napoleon +from his disastrous Russian campaign. But in the +midst of the tremendous struggle that followed, Napoleon +found leisure to think of her. His letters to +her were more frequent and more affectionate than +ever, while hers, written by every opportunity, were +perused, under all circumstances, with a promptitude +which showed clearly the pleasure or the consolation +that was expected: in fact, it was observed that letters +from Malmaison or Navarre were always torn rather +than broken open, and read, whatever else might be +retarded.</p> +<p>On the approach of the allies to Paris, Josephine retired +from Malmaison to Navarre. Her only pleasure, +during the period of painful uncertainty which followed, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_258' name='page_258'></a>258</span> +was to shut herself up alone, and read the letters she +had last received from the emperor. A letter from +him at last put an end to all uncertainty; it announced +his fall and his retirement to Elba. The perusal of it +overwhelmed her with grief and consternation; but, recovering +herself, she exclaimed, with impassioned energy, +“I must not remain here: my presence is necessary +to the emperor. The duty is, indeed, more Maria +Louisa’s than mine; but the emperor is alone, forsaken. +I, at least, will not abandon him.” Tears came to her +relief. She became more composed, and added, “I +may, however, interfere with his arrangements. I will +remain here till I hear from the allied sovereigns. +They will respect her who was the wife of Napoleon.” +Nor was she deceived. The Emperor Alexander +sent assurances of his friendship, and the other allies +united in a request that she would return to Malmaison. +Here every thing was maintained on its former +footing. Her court, elegant as ever, was frequented +by the most distinguished personages of Europe. +Among the earliest visitors was Alexander. Josephine +received him with her wonted grace, and expressed +how much she felt on the occasion. “Madam,” +replied Alexander, “I burned with the desire +of beholding you. Since I entered France, I have +never heard your name pronounced but with benedictions. +In the cottage and in the palace I have collected +accounts of your goodness; and I do myself a +pleasure in thus presenting to your majesty the universal +homage of which I am the bearer.” The +king of Prussia also visited her, and she received +attentions even from the Bourbons. Her children +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_259' name='page_259'></a>259</span> +were protected, and Eugene was offered his rank as +marshal of France; but he declined it.</p> +<p>The health of Josephine, which had been undermined +by previous sufferings, sunk entirely under +these new and agitating emotions. On the 4th of May, +1814, she became, for the first time, decidedly ill. +The Emperor Alexander was unremitting in his attentions +to her, and to him her last words were addressed. +“I shall die regretted. I have always desired +the happiness of France; I did all in my power +to contribute to it; I can say with truth, that the first +wife of Napoleon never caused a single tear to flow.” +She then sunk into a gentle slumber, from which she +never awoke.</p> +<p>The funeral procession, which was headed by representatives +of the sovereigns of Russia and Prussia, and +was composed of princes, marshals, and generals, the +most celebrated in Europe, was closed by two thousand +<i>poor</i>, who had voluntarily come to pay their last +tribute to the memory of their benefactor and friend. +The spot where her remains are buried is marked by +a monument of white marble, bearing this simple, yet +touching inscription:—</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p class='center'>“<span class='smcap'>Eugene and Hortense to Josephine.</span>”</p> +</div></div> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_261' name='page_261'></a>261</span> +<a name='MARIE_ANTOINETTE' id='MARIE_ANTOINETTE'></a> +<h2>MARIE ANTOINETTE.</h2> +</div> +<p>Jeanne Josephe Marie Antoinette, of Lorraine, +archduchess of Austria, the unfortunate queen of +Louis XVI. of France, was the daughter of Francis I. +and Maria Theresa, and was born at Vienna, in 1755. +She was educated with the utmost care, and nature +had bestowed upon her the highest beauty of person. +Her accomplishments, talents, grace, virtue, and uncommon +loveliness, fitted her for the queen of a gallant +nation; and as such she would have been honored +in France, had she lived before oppression had roused +the people to madness. Her mother, in a letter to +her future husband, after alluding to the care with +which she had formed her mind, says, “Your bride, +dear dauphin, is separated from me. As she has ever +been my delight, so she will be your happiness. For +this purpose, I have enjoined upon her, as among her +highest duties, the most tender attachment to your +person, the greatest attention to every thing that can +please or make you happy. Above all things, I have +recommended to her humility towards God, because +I am convinced that it is impossible for us to secure +the happiness of the subjects confided to us without +love to Him who destroys the sceptres and the thrones +of kings according to his will.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_262' name='page_262'></a>262</span></div> +<p>The marriage took place at Versailles, May 16th, +1770, and was celebrated with uncommon splendor; +but, immediately after the ceremony, a thunder-storm +of unparalleled violence broke over the palace of +Versailles, darkened the surrounding scenery, and +struck terror into the hearts of the people for miles +around. On May 30th, the festivities at Paris were +saddened by a most terrible accident; a number of +citizens being crushed to death in the Rue Royale, by +some mismanagement on the part of the proper authorities. +Fifty-three persons were found dead, and three +hundred more were dangerously injured.</p> +<div class='figcenter'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_9' id='linki_9'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/illo-260.png' alt='' title='' width='385' height='550' /> +<br /> +<p class='caption'> +MARIE ANTOINETTE AT THE SCAFFOLD.<br /> +</p> +</div> +<p>The magnanimity of Marie Antoinette displayed +itself soon after her elevation to the throne, on the +death of Louis XV. An officer of the body-guard, +who had given her offence on some former occasion, +expressed his intention of resigning his commission; +but the queen forbade him. “Remain,” said she; +“forget the past. Far be it from the queen of France +to revenge the injuries of the dauphiness.” She +devoted herself to the interests of her people with an +assiduity unparalleled in a sovereign of her age; yet, +becoming obnoxious to the court party, her character +was assailed in every shape and quarter; she was +accused of setting on foot conspiracies which never +existed, and of entertaining views which never entered +her mind. She was termed the <i>Austrian</i>, and it was +openly asserted, as well as privately insinuated, that +her heart was estranged from the country of her husband, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_263' name='page_263'></a>263</span> +and her mind solely occupied with the interests +of her native land.</p> +<p>In her conduct, there was matter for gentle reproof, +but none for malevolent accusation. A gayety which +sometimes degenerated into levity, a passion for fashionable +novelties, and an undisguised contempt for +court formalities, instead of being regarded as the +foibles and imprudences of a young and innocent +mind, were construed into evidences of the existence +of loose principles, unbridled extravagance, and hatred +for the nation. She was likewise charged with pettishness +under reproof; and we can readily conceive how +a female of so high a rank, conscious of the purity of +her intentions, and perpetually assailed by reckless +cavillers, assumed, in reply to the unworthy insinuations +of her enemies, the tone which her virtue and her +birth appeared to warrant. The affair of the diamond +necklace created an extraordinary sensation. A jeweller +at Paris demanded payment for a necklace so +costly that the finances of a queen would hardly warrant +its purchase. The result of an examination was +the proof of the queen’s integrity.</p> +<p>On the 6th October, 1789, the mob broke into the +palace of Versailles, murdered some of the bodyguards, +and threatened the queen in the most frightful +language. At midnight, she received a letter from a +friendly clergyman, advising her to seek safety in +flight, as her life would be sacrificed early the next +morning. She resolved to remain, and destroyed the +warning letter. She heard the footsteps of the ruffian +rabble; she thought her time had come, but her life +was saved. The progress of the ruffians was arrested +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_264' name='page_264'></a>264</span> +at the very door of her chamber, where her faithful +guardsmen laid down their lives to secure for their +queen a retreat to the chamber of the king. The +king and queen showed themselves, with their children, +in the balcony. The mass of heads beneath for +a moment ceased to be agitated; but it was only for +a moment. Silence was broken by a thousand tongues—“No +children—no children! The queen! the +queen alone!”</p> +<p>This was a trying moment; but Antoinette had +firmness for the crisis. Putting her son and daughter +into her husband’s arms, she advanced alone into the +balcony. A spectacle like this filled the fierce people +with admiration, and thundering sounds of “<i>Vive la +Reine!</i>” succeeded to the imprecations of the preceding +moment. Such is the fickleness of a mob! The +march to Paris was a succession of terrors! The +heads of the two faithful guardsmen, elevated on pikes, +met the eyes of the poor queen as she looked from +her carriage windows.</p> +<p>The fate of Antoinette darkened rapidly. With the +king, she fled to Varennes—with him was brought +back to Paris. Her courage did not fail in the scene +of the Legislative Assembly, before which body she +was present with her husband, heard his deposition +pronounced, and then went into the Temple, where +he was imprisoned. Here, where the light of heaven +faintly fell through grated windows, surrounded by +her family, she appeared to feel entire resignation to +the will of Him on whom the happiness of the humblest +individual depends. When she heard the condemnation +of the king from the lips of the royal +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_265' name='page_265'></a>265</span> +victim, she had the firmness to congratulate him on +the speedy delivery from trouble that awaited him. +Her eternal separation from her son did not shake +her firmness, and, with a heart apparently unbroken, +she was consigned to the loathsome depths of a dungeon, +August 5th, 1793.</p> +<p>The accusations brought against the unhappy queen, +on her trial, were all unfounded, and merely advanced +because her enemies had still respect enough for justice +to mimic its forms in their guilty court. She was +charged with having squandered the public money, +and with leaguing in secret with the common enemies +of France. The clearness of her innocence, the falsehood +and frivolity of the witnesses, the eloquence of the +defenders, and her own noble bearing, were of no +avail: Marie Antoinette was doomed to die upon the +scaffold.</p> +<p>The expression of her countenance, as she passed to +the place of execution, awed the bloodthirsty populace; +but the once matchless beauty of that noble countenance +was gone forever. One unacquainted with the ravages +of grief could not believe that the haggard and +forsaken being whom they led to sacrifice, was the +same young queen, who, a short time before, held in +thrall the chivalry of France, by her exquisite loveliness, +her winning grace, and sportive gayety. Antoinette +cast back a long, last look at the Tuileries—a +look which told of sorrowful remembrance and of +agonizing emotion; then, with an air of dignified +resignation, she ascended the scaffold. “My God,” +cried she, as she kneeled on that fatal platform, “enlighten +and affect my executioner! Adieu, my children, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_266' name='page_266'></a>266</span> +my beloved ones: I am going to your father!” +Thus she perished, in her thirty-eighth year, October +16th, 1793.</p> +<p>In the gayety of youth and the sunshine of prosperity, +Marie Antoinette had exhibited some foibles +amid many virtues. In the beginning of her trials, she +displayed, as well as those around her, serious mistakes +of judgment; but in the dark hour of adversity, she +exhibited a spectacle of truth, firmness, and dignity, +hardly less than sublime. When confined with her +family in the prison of the Temple, with only a glimmering +ray of light stealing through the iron bars, +she displayed the utmost calmness, cheered all around +with her counsel and example, and taught them to +disregard privation, sickness, and suffering.</p> +<p>When her husband told her that he was condemned +to the scaffold, she congratulated him upon the speedy +termination of an existence so painful, and the unperishing +reward that should crown it. Before the Revolutionary +Tribunal she was unabashed, and, when +accused of a horrid crime, she put her traducers to +shame by exclaiming, “I appeal to every mother here +whether such an act be possible!” In solitude, and in +the depths of a damp and loathsome dungeon, where +she was confined for weeks, she was still serene and +uncomplaining. In parting with her son; in taking +a last adieu of the palace which had witnessed her +triumphs; in facing the scaffold, and the wretches +around it; and in bidding a final farewell to life,—Marie +Antoinette evinced that patient, deep, and touching +heroism which a woman and a Christian alone can +display.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_267' name='page_267'></a>267</span> +<a name='MADAME_ROLAND' id='MADAME_ROLAND'></a> +<h2>MADAME ROLAND.</h2> +</div> +<p>When, in May, 1793, Robespierre and the Mountain +effected the final overthrow of the Girondists—the +moderate party of the French revolutionists—M. Roland, +who had recently resigned his office in the ministry, +was forced to flee, and his wife was thrown into +prison. To solace the sad hours of her captivity, she +began to write her own Memoirs. “I propose to myself,” +she says, “to employ the leisure hours of my +captivity in relating the history of my life, from my infancy +to the present time. Thus to retrace the steps of +one’s career is to live a second time; and what better can +a prisoner do than, by a happy fiction, or by interesting +recollections, to transport herself from her prison?”</p> +<p>Her Memoirs are dated at the “Prison of St. Pelagie, +August 9th, 1793,” and she thus commences: “Daughter +of an artist, wife of a philosopher, who, when a +minister of state, remained a man of virtue; now a +prisoner, destined, perhaps, to a violent and unexpected +death,—I have known happiness and adversity; I +have learned what glory is, and have suffered injustice. +Born in an humble condition, but of respectable parents, +I passed my youth in the bosom of the arts, and +amidst the delights of study; knowing no superiority +but that of merit, no grandeur but that of virtue.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_268' name='page_268'></a>268</span></div> +<p>Her father, Gratien Philipon, was an engraver. +During the early years of Manon’s life, he was well +off, employing many workmen under him. His wife +possessed little of what is called knowledge, but she +had a discerning judgment and a gentle and affectionate +disposition. By her example, as well as by the +course of education which her disposition led her to +pursue, she formed in her daughter the same gentle, +feminine spirit which she herself possessed.</p> +<p>“The wisdom and kindness of my mother,” says +Madame Roland, “quickly acquired over my gentle +and tender character an ascendency which was used +only for my good. It was so great that, in those slight, +inevitable differences between reason which governs +and childhood which resists, she had need to resort to +no other punishment than to call me, coldly, <i>Mademoiselle</i>, +and to regard me with a severe countenance. +I feel, even now, the impression made on me by her +look, which at other times was so tender and caressing. +I hear, almost with shivering, the word <i>mademoiselle</i> +substituted for the sweet name of <i>daughter</i>, +or the tender appellation of <i>Manon</i>. Yes, Manon; it +was thus they called me: I am sorry for the lovers +of romances, the name is not noble; it suits not a +dignified heroine; but, nevertheless, it was mine, and +it is a history that I am writing. But the most fastidious +would have been reconciled to the name, +had they heard my mother pronounce it, or had +they seen her who bore it. No expression wanted +grace, when accompanied by the affectionate tone +of my mother; when her touching voice penetrated +my soul, did it teach me to resemble her? Lively +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_269' name='page_269'></a>269</span> +without being ever rompish, and naturally retiring, I +asked only to be occupied, and seized with quickness +the ideas which were presented to me. This disposition +was so well taken advantage of, that I do not remember +learning to read: I have heard that I did so +before I was four years old, and that, after that time, +nothing more was required than to supply me with +books.”</p> +<p>Her passion for these was subjected to little guidance +or control; she read whatever chance threw in +her way; they were, for the most part, of a serious +character—Locke, Pascal, Burlamaque, Montesquieu; +relieved, however, by works on history, the poems of +Voltaire, Don Quixote, and some of the popular romances; +but, as these were few in number, she was +compelled to read them often, and thus acquired a +habit of thought. When she was nine years old, Plutarch’s +Lives fell in her way, and more delighted her +than any romance or fairy tale. The book became +her bosom companion; and from that moment, she +says, “she dated the ideas and impressions which +made her a republican without her knowing that she +was becoming one.”</p> +<p>“But this child, who was accustomed to read serious +books, could explain the circles of the celestial sphere, +could use the pencil and the graver, and at eight years +old was the best dancer in a party of girls older than +herself, assembled for a family festival. The same +child was often called to the kitchen to prepare an +omelette, wash herbs, or to skim the pot. This mixture +of grave studies, agreeable exercise, and domestic +cares, ordered and regulated by the wisdom of my +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_270' name='page_270'></a>270</span> +mother, rendered me fit for all circumstances, seemed +to anticipate the vicissitudes of my fortune, and has +aided me in bearing them. I feel nowhere out of +place; I can prepare my soup with as much ease as +Philopemon cut wood, though no one seeing me +would deem that such a task was fitted for me.”</p> +<p>The study of Plutarch and the ancient historians +was not, perhaps, favorable to the happiness of +Mademoiselle Philipon. She regretted that her lot +had not been cast in a free state, which she had persuaded +herself was the only nursery of virtue, generosity, +and wisdom. She contrasted the state of +society, as she saw it around her, with the ideal state +of its existence in ancient Greece and Rome. She +had once paid a visit of eight days to Versailles, and +witnessed the routine of the court. How different +were the weak and dissolute actors upon that tinsel +and tawdry stage from the heroes and philosophers +with whom she was wont, in imagination, to associate! +She “sorrowfully compared the Asiatic luxury, the +insolent pomp, with the abject misery of the degraded +people, who ran after the idols of their own creating, +and stupidly applauded the brilliant shows for which +they paid out of their own absolute necessaries.” +Sometimes she was taken to visit certain ladies who +called themselves noble, and who, looking upon her as +an inferior, sent her to dine with the servants. But +their airs of condescending kindness were even yet +more offensive, and made her bosom swell with indignant +emotion. She acknowledges that this feeling +made her hail the revolution with greater transport.</p> +<p>The daughter of a prosperous tradesman, she had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_271' name='page_271'></a>271</span> +many suitors of her own rank; but she had formed to +herself a <i>beau ideal</i> of wedded life which none but +a man of education could satisfy; they were all rejected. +A physician proposed; more refinement and +knowledge was to be expected in the learned professions; +she hesitated, but he also was rejected. In +the mean time, her father’s habits began to change; +he became a speculator, fond of pleasure and careless +of his business. His speculations failed, and his customers +left him. Her mother witnessed the approach +of poverty with anxiety; she feared for her daughter +alone, for her own health was so feeble, that she could +look only for a short term of life. She wished to see +her daughter’s happiness made as secure as possible, +and tried to persuade her to accept the addresses of a +young jeweller who had health and a good character +to recommend him; but Manon wished to find in her +husband a companion and a guide.</p> +<p>Her mother died; and intense grief overwhelmed +the daughter, both body and mind. It was long before +she could be roused to any exertion from that melancholy +“which made her a burden to herself and +others.” At this moment, the “Nouvelle Heloise” +was placed in her hands; it excited her attention, and +called her thoughts from her loss. “I was twenty-one,” +she says, “and Rousseau made the same impression +on me as Plutarch had done when I was eight. +Plutarch had disposed me to republicanism; he had +awakened the energy and pride which are its characteristics; +he inspired me with a true enthusiasm for +public virtue and freedom. Rousseau showed me domestic +happiness, and the ineffable felicity I was capable +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_272' name='page_272'></a>272</span> +of tasting.” She now returned to her studies. +Her friends, among whom she numbered some literary +men, finding that she committed her reflections +to writing, predicted that she would become an author. +But she was not ambitious of public distinction; +she had adopted the sentiment of Rousseau, +that the “dignity of woman is in being unknown; her +glory, in the esteem of her husband; her pleasures, +in the happiness of her family.” “I saw,” says +Madame Roland, “that an authoress loses more than +she gains. My chief object was my own happiness, +and I never knew the public interfere with that for +any one without spoiling it; there is nothing more +delightful than to be appreciated by those with whom +one lives, and nothing so empty as the admiration of +those whom we are never to meet.”</p> +<p>In her school-girl days, Manon had formed a friendship +with a girl of her own age, named Sophia, and the +intercourse was still kept up by letters. Sophia felt +the highest admiration for her friend, and often spoke +of it. Among those who, through her, became acquainted +with Manon’s character was M. Roland, a man whose +great simplicity of character and strict integrity had +gained for him universal esteem and confidence. His +family was not of the ancient nobles, but of official dignity. +He was fond of study, and laborious in the pursuit +of knowledge. He had long sought for an introduction +to Mademoiselle Philipon, and Sophia at length gave +him a letter of introduction. “This letter,” she writes, +“will be given you by the philosopher I have often +mentioned, M. Roland, an enlightened and excellent +man, who can only be reproached for his great admiration +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_273' name='page_273'></a>273</span> +of the ancients at the expense of the moderns, +whom he despises, and his weakness in liking to talk +too much about himself.”</p> +<p>M. Roland’s appearance was not calculated to make +a favorable impression upon a young woman; his +manners were cold and stiff; he was careless in his +dress, and he had passed the meridian of life. But +Mademoiselle Philipon discerned and appreciated his +excellence, and received him to her friendship and +confidence. For five years, this intercourse between +them continued, before he disclosed to her the sentiments +of love which had been making a slow, but +deeply-rooted, growth in his heart. His proposal of +marriage was not distasteful to her; but she was +proud, and did not like to encounter the opposition +which the match with a girl of humble birth would +meet with from his family. Roland persisted in his +addresses, and she at length referred him to her father. +Philipon did not like the terms of his letter, and returned +a rude answer, rejecting the proffered alliance.</p> +<p>The result, though anticipated by Manon, was a +great disappointment to her, and the manner in which +her father had conducted, shocked her feelings. She +had a great cause for anxiety in his general management; +his affairs were fast approaching utter ruin; +extreme poverty was before her; she resolved to secure +her own independence, and purchased an annuity +of about one hundred and twenty dollars. With this +she hired a room in a convent, and lived upon the +simplest food, which she prepared for herself: her +wants were strictly limited by her means.</p> +<p>Six months elapsed, and M. Roland once more presented +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_274' name='page_274'></a>274</span> +himself to her at the convent. He renewed +his offer, and it was accepted. “I reflected deeply,” +says Madame Roland, “on what I ought to do. I could +not conceal from myself that a younger man would +not have delayed, for several months, entreating me +to change my resolution, and I confess this circumstance +had deprived my feelings of every illusion. I +considered, on the other hand, that this deliberation +was an assurance that I was appreciated; and that, if +he had overcome his pride, which shrunk from the +disagreeable circumstances that accompanied his marrying +me, I was the more secure of an esteem I +could not fail to preserve. In short, if marriage was, +as I thought, an austere union, an association in which +the woman usually burdens herself with the happiness +of two individuals, it were better that I should exert +my abilities and my courage in so honorable a task, +than in the solitude in which I lived.”</p> +<p>Such were the feelings with which she married. +She was then twenty-six years old. She discharged +with fidelity the duties she assumed. She was her +husband’s friend and companion, and soon became +absolutely necessary to him. With him she visited +England and Switzerland, and finally they took up +their abode at the family mansion near Lyons. She +had one child, a daughter; and to educate her, and +make her husband and those about her happy, was apparently +to be the whole scope of her life. At this period, +she writes to a friend, “Seated in my chimney corner, +at eleven before noon, after a peaceful night and my +morning tasks,—my husband at his desk, and my little +girl knitting,—I am conversing with the former, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_275' name='page_275'></a>275</span> +overlooking the work of the letter; enjoying the happiness +of being warmly sheltered in the bosom of my +dear little family, and writing to a friend, while the +snow is falling on so many poor wretches overwhelmed +by sorrow and penury. I grieve over their fate. I +repose on my own, and make no account of those +family annoyances, which appeared formerly to tarnish +my felicity.”</p> +<p>The revolution came to disturb this peaceful existence. +At first she hailed it with joy; but fears soon +arose. “Is the question,” she says, “to be whether +we have one tyrant or a hundred?” She attached +herself zealously to that party which advocated liberty +without anarchy. The confusion of the times +proved destructive to the manufacturing interests of +Lyons; twenty thousand workmen were thrown out +of employment, and were without means of support. +M. Roland was selected to proceed to Paris to make +known the distresses to the National Assembly, and to +solicit relief.</p> +<p>The Girondists held opinions most in consonance +with her own; her house at Paris soon became the +rendezvous of that party; and her talents, beauty, and +enthusiasm, insensibly procured for her a great influence +in their councils. A late historian thus speaks +of her: “Roland was known for his clever writings +on manufactures and mechanics. This man, of austere +life, inflexible principles, and cold, repulsive manners, +yielded, without being aware, to the superior ascendency +of his wife. She was young and beautiful. +Nourished in seclusion by philosophical and republican +sentiments, she had conceived ideas superior to her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_276' name='page_276'></a>276</span> +sex, and had erected a strict religion from the then +reigning opinions. Living in intimate friendship with +her husband, she wrote for him, communicated her +vivacity and ardor, not only to him, but to all the +Girondists, who, enthusiastic in the cause of liberty and +philosophy, adored beauty and talent, and their own +opinions in her.” But she carefully guarded against +appearing to exert influence. Present at the councils +held at her own house, she sat apart, and, apparently +engaged in needle-work or in writing, took no part in +the public deliberations; but her opinions were freely +expressed in private to the leaders of the party, who +eagerly engaged with her in discussion.</p> +<p>The flight of the king filled her with alarm; his +arrest and return to Paris excited new hopes; she +looked for safety only in his dethronement, and in the +establishment of a republican form of government; +but for this she hardly dared hope. “It would be a +folly, an absurdity, almost a horror,” she writes to a +friend at this time, “to replace the king on the throne. +To bring Louis XVI. to trial, would doubtless be the +greatest and most just of measures; but we are incapable +of adopting it.”</p> +<p>At the end of seven months, Roland’s mission terminated, +and he returned to Lyons. But Madame +Roland could no longer be happy in the quiet, domestic +circle; her discontent thus expresses itself in a +letter to a friend, but, unwittingly perhaps, does not +assign it to the true cause: “I see with regret that +my husband is cast back on silence and obscurity. +He is habituated to public life; his energy and activity +injure his health when not exercised according to his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_277' name='page_277'></a>277</span> +inclinations; in addition, I had hoped for great advantages +for my child in a residence at Paris. Occupied +there by her education, I should have excited +and developed some sort of talent. The recluse life +I lead here makes me tremble for her. From the +moment that my husband has no occupation but his +desks, I must remain near to amuse him, according to +a duty and a habit which may not be eluded. This +existence is exactly opposite to that suitable for a +child of ten. My heart is saddened by this opposition +of duties. I find myself fallen into the nullity of a +provincial life, where no exterior circumstances supply +that which I cannot do myself. If I believed my husband +were satisfied, hope would embellish the prospect. +However, our destiny is fixed, and I must try +to render it as happy as I can.”</p> +<p>But the truth was, that her life at Paris had opened +a new prospect to Madame Roland, and excited new +desires in her bosom. Her activity and enthusiasm +longed to employ themselves upon a grand theatre, +and she panted to become great, as Plutarch’s heroes +were great, and to go down to posterity as one of +the founders of her country’s freedom.</p> +<p>She was soon restored to the wished-for scene of +action. In December, 1792, her husband was appointed +minister of the interior. She relates with +great good-humor the surprise which her husband’s +plain, citizen-like costume excited at court. The master +of ceremonies pointed him out to Dumoriez with +an angry and agitated mien, exclaiming, “Ah, sir, no +buckles to his shoes!” “Ah, sir,” replied Dumoriez, +with mock gravity, “all is lost!”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_278' name='page_278'></a>278</span></div> +<p>Two measures, which the liberal party deemed +essential, were presented to the king by the ministry, +but were rejected by him. The party urged the ministers, +as a body, to remonstrate; but a majority declined. +Madame Roland insisted that her husband +should individually present a remonstrance, which she +prepared for him; it was couched in bold and menacing +language, and rather calculated to irritate than to +persuade the king. Roland read it to the king in full +council; he listened patiently to his minister’s rebuke, +but the next day dismissed him from his office.</p> +<p>Satisfied with having discharged their duty to liberty, +Roland and his wife felt no regret at the loss of office. +They ceased to meddle with politics, and led a retired +life, with the fearful anticipation that the intervention +of foreign troops would soon put an end to all their +hopes of constitutional freedom. Her appearance and +manners at this period of her life are thus described +by one who visited her: “Her eyes, her figure, and +hair, were of remarkable beauty; her delicate complexion +had a freshness and color, which, joined to her +reserved yet ingenuous appearance, imparted a singular +air of youth. She spoke well, and without affectation; +wit, good sense, propriety of expression, keen reasoning, +natural grace, all flowing without effort from her +rosy lips. Her husband resembled a Quaker, and she +looked like his daughter. Her child flitted about her +with ringlets down to her waist. She spoke of public +affairs only, and I perceived that my moderation inspired +pity. Her mind was excited, but her heart +remained gentle. Although the monarchy was not +yet overturned, she did not conceal that symptoms of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_279' name='page_279'></a>279</span> +anarchy began to appear, and she declared herself +ready to resist them to death. I remember the calm +and resolute tone in which she declared that she was +ready, if need were, to place her head on the block. +I confess that the image of that charming head delivered +over to the axe of the executioner made an +ineffaceable impression; for party excesses had not +yet accustomed us to such frightful ideas.”</p> +<p>The fomenters of disturbance and the friends of +anarchy were the party of the <i>Mountain</i>, at the head +of which were Robespierre, Danton, Marat, &c. To +this party the known moderation of Madame Roland +made her peculiarly obnoxious. When, after the suspension +of the royal authority, consequent on the +events of the 10th of August, it was proposed in the +National Convention to recall Roland to the ministry, +one of the party exclaimed, “We had better invite +madame; she is the real minister.” He was reinstated +in his office, and maintained for a short time an +unflinching struggle with the anarchists; but his efforts +were not supported by others; and, wearied out, he +tendered his resignation. The Mountain urged its acceptance, +but the only charges against him were complaints +of his feebleness, and of his being governed by +his wife. The Girondists yet held the ascendency in +the Convention, and his resignation was not accepted. +At the entreaty of his friends, he consented to remain, +and wrote thus to the Convention: “Since I am calumniated, +since I am threatened by dangers, and since +the Convention appear to desire it, I remain. It is too +glorious that my alliance with courage and virtue is the +only reproach made against me.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_280' name='page_280'></a>280</span></div> +<p>Madame Roland has herself offered an apology for +her interference in the business of her husband. In +the early days of their marriage, she had acted as his +amanuensis, and had faithfully copied what he wrote. +But the dryness of his style did not suit her taste, and +she began to amend his writings. At length, having a +perfect agreement in views and opinions with her husband, +he entirely yielded up to her the pen. “I could +not express any thing,” she says, “that regarded reason +or justice, which he was not capable of realizing or +maintaining with his conduct; while I expressed better +than he could whatever he had done or promised to do. +Without my intervention, Roland had been an equally +good agent; his activity and knowledge, as well as his +probity, were all his own; but he produced a greater +sensation through me, since I put into his writings that +mixture of energy and gentleness, of authority and +persuasion, which is peculiar to a woman of a warm +heart and a clear head. I wrote with delight such +pieces as I thought would be useful, and I took greater +pleasure in them than I should have done had I been +their acknowledged <ins title='Assuming end of quote'>author.”</ins></p> +<p>Roland continued his struggle against the Mountain, +who were daily gaining strength. Although in a minority +in the Convention, they were all powerful with +the mob; and the knowledge of this, together with their +menaces, induced some of the more timid Girondists to +vote for their savage measures. Of the frightful state of +affairs at Paris, Madame Roland thus writes to a friend: +“We are under the knife of Robespierre and Marat. +These men agitate the people, and endeavor to turn +them against the Assembly and Council; they have a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_281' name='page_281'></a>281</span> +little army, which they pay with money stolen from +the Tuileries.” Again she writes, “Danton leads all; +Robespierre is his puppet; Marat holds his torch +and dagger; this ferocious tribune reigns, and we are +his slaves until the moment when we shall become his +victims. You are aware of my enthusiasm for the +revolution; well, I am ashamed of it; it is deformed +by monsters, and become hideous. It is degrading to +remain, but we are not allowed to quit Paris; they +shut us up to murder us when occasion serves.”</p> +<p>At length, disheartened by his unavailing efforts to +stem the tide of anarchy, Roland again resigned his +office; and, satisfied that remaining at Paris could be +of no advantage to their country, he and his wife +began their preparations for retiring to the country. +Her illness caused a delay, and they were yet in Paris +when the final overthrow of the Girondists left them +no hope for safety but in flight. An order was issued +by the Convention for the arrest of Roland: his wife +resolved to appeal in person to the Assembly in his +behalf. Veiled and alone, she hurried to the place of +meeting. She was not admitted: she sent in a letter, +soliciting to be heard; but it received no attention. +Sadly she left the national palace, sought out her husband, +related to him her want of success, and then +returned to make another effort to be heard. The +Convention was no longer sitting. She returned +home: her husband was in a place of security; and, +indifferent to her own fate, she resolved to await whatever +might happen.</p> +<p>At a late hour of the night she retired to rest, but +was soon roused by her servant, who announced to her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_282' name='page_282'></a>282</span> +that a party of soldiers had come to arrest her. The +sanguinary shouts of the mob saluted her as she passed +through the streets. “Shall I close the windows?” +said an officer who rode with her in the carriage. +“No,” replied she; “innocence, however oppressed, +will never assume the appearance of guilt. I fear the +eyes of no one, and will not hide myself.” “You have +more firmness than most men,” said the officer.</p> +<p>Her plans for prison life were at once arranged: +she asked and obtained a few books, Plutarch being +of the number. The situation of the poorer class of +prisoners exciting her pity, she restricted herself to +the most abstemious diet, and distributed the money +which she thus saved among them.</p> +<p>At the end of about three weeks, a most cruel deception +was practised upon her. She was told that she +was free, and left the prison; but, on reaching home, +she was again arrested, and carried to a new prison, +in which the lowest and most infamous criminals of +both sexes were confined. A few hours’ reflection +restored the equanimity which this outrage had disturbed. +“Had I not my books?” she says; “was I +no longer myself? I was almost angry at having felt +disturbed, and thought only of making use of my life, +and employing my faculties with that independence +which a strong mind preserves even in chains, and +which disappoints one’s most cruel enemies.”</p> +<p>At first, she was confined in the midst of the most +abandoned of her sex; but, after a time, the wife of the +jailer took compassion on her, and removed her to a +more retired apartment. Nor did this humane woman +stop here; she sought in every way to soften the rigors +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_283' name='page_283'></a>283</span> +of imprisonment. Jasmine was twined round the bars +of her window; a piano-forte was provided, with every +comfort which her narrow quarters would allow. A +few friends were allowed to visit her: she learned +that her husband and child were in safety; she became +almost happy. But her quiet was soon disturbed. +The visitor of the prison was angry at the +comforts which she enjoyed; equality must be preserved, +and he ordered her to be removed to a common +cell.</p> +<p>At one period she meditated suicide. There was no +accusation against her, and she saw herself left behind +in the daily drafts for the guillotine. “Two months +ago,” she writes, “I aspired to the honor of ascending +the scaffold. Victims were still allowed to speak, and +the energy of great courage might have been of service +to truth. Now all is lost; to live is basely to +submit to a ferocious rule.” But her purpose was +changed when she found herself included in the act +of accusation against the chief Girondists. She expected +to be examined before the Revolutionary Tribunal, +and hoped to do some good by courageously +speaking the truth.</p> +<p>On the 31st of October, 1792, she was transferred +to the prison of the Conciergerie, a yet more squalid +place of confinement. Her examination commenced +the next day, and was continued for several days. +The charge against her was holding intercourse with +the Girondists. Her defence, which was written out, +but not spoken, is eloquent and full of feeling. She +was, of course, declared guilty, and sentenced to be +executed within twenty-four hours.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_284' name='page_284'></a>284</span></div> +<p>Even during these few eventful days, she was not +occupied entirely with self. Many of her hours were +devoted to the consolation of her fellow-victims. She +who was a prisoner with her thus speaks of her: +“Perfectly aware of the fate that awaited her, her tranquillity +was not disturbed. Though past the bloom of +life, she was yet full of attractions: tall, and of an elegant +figure, her physiognomy was animated; but sorrow +and long imprisonment had left traces of melancholy +in her face that tempered her natural vivacity. Something +more than is usually found in the eyes of woman +beamed in her large, dark eyes, full of sweetness and +expression. She often spoke to me at the grate with +the freedom and courage of a great man. This republican +language, falling from the lips of a pretty woman, +for whom the scaffold was prepared, was a miracle of +the revolution. We gathered attentively around her +in a species of admiration and stupor. Her conversation +was serious, without being cold. She spoke with +a purity, a melody, and a measure, which rendered +her language a sort of music, of which the ear was +never tired. Sometimes her sex had the mastery, and +we perceived that she had wept over the recollections +of her husband and daughter. The woman who +attended her said to me one day, ‘Before you she +calls up all her courage; but in her room she sometimes +remains for hours leaning on the window, +weeping.’”</p> +<p>She was led to execution on the 10th of November. +On the way she exerted herself to restore the failing +fortitude of a fellow-sufferer, and won from him, it is +said, two smiles. On arriving at the place of execution, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_285' name='page_285'></a>285</span> +she bowed to the statue of Liberty, saying, “O +Liberty, how many crimes are committed in thy +name!” She bade her companion ascend the scaffold +first, that he might escape the pain of seeing her die. +To the last, she preserved her courage and dignity of +manner.</p> +<p>The news of her death reached her husband at +Rouen. He resolved not to outlive her. He doubted +whether to surrender himself to the Revolutionary +Tribunal, or to commit suicide. He decided on the +latter course, in order to save for his child his property, +which by law would be confiscated if he died by the +judgment of a court. On the 15th of November, he +was found dead on the road to Paris, four miles from +Rouen. In his pocket was found a paper, setting forth +the reasons for his death—“The blood that flows in +torrents in my country dictates my resolve; indignation +caused me to quit my retreat. As soon as I heard +of the murder of my wife, I determined no longer to +remain on the earth tainted by crime.”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_286' name='page_286'></a>286</span> +<a name='MADAME_DE_SVIGN' id='MADAME_DE_SVIGN'></a> +<h2>MADAME DE SÉVIGNÉ.</h2> +</div> +<p>The subject of this memoir, as celebrated in her +own particular department of literature as Shakspere +or Molière were in theirs, would have been very much +surprised to find herself occupying a conspicuous place +in the “Lives of Celebrated Women.” She made no +pretensions to authorship, and her “Letters,” which +have been esteemed models of epistolary composition, +are the unpremeditated and unrevised outpourings +of a mind rich in wit and good sense, and a +heart filled with the warmest affections, and were +written without the slightest idea that they would ever +be read by any other persons than those to whom they +were addressed.</p> +<p>Maria de Robertin-Chantal, Baroness de Chantal +and Bombilly, was born on the 5th of February, 1626. +Her father was the head of a distinguished and noble +family of Burgundy. Of his rough wit and independence +his daughter has preserved a specimen. When +Schomberg was transformed, by Louis XIII., from a +minister of finance to a field-marshal, Chantal wrote +to him the following letter:—</p> +<blockquote> +<p>“My Lord,</p> +<p>“Rank—black beard—intimacy.</p> +<p>“<span class='smcap'>Chantal.</span>”—</p> +</blockquote> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_287' name='page_287'></a>287</span></div> +<p>meaning that he owed his advancement, not to his +military exploits, but to his rank, his having a black +beard, like his master, and to his intimacy with that +master.</p> +<p>When Maria was about a year and a half old, the +English made a descent upon the Island of Rhé; and +her father placed himself at the head of a party of +gentlemen who volunteered to assist in repelling them, +in which honorable service he lost his life. His widow +survived him five years. She was the daughter of a +secretary of state, and her family, that of De Coulanges, +belonged to the class of nobility who owed that +distinction to civil services, and who were known as +“nobles of the robe,” to distinguish them from those +who could trace their descent from the heroes of the +crusades and the days of chivalry.</p> +<p>It seems to have been expected that the paternal +grandmother would have taken charge of the education +of the little orphan. But she was too much occupied +with the affairs of the other world, and with +founding religious houses,—of which eighty-seven +owed their existence to her,—and Maria was left in +the hands of her maternal relations. The pious labors +of the “Blessed Mother of Chantal” were acknowledged +by the head of the church, and her name now +fills a place in the calendar, among the saints. The +guardianship of the young baroness devolved on her +uncle, Christophe de Coulanges, abbé de Livry.</p> +<p>Most men would have shrunk from the task of personally +superintending the education of a young girl, +and would, in conformity to the customs of the times, +have consigned her to a convent, where she would +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_288' name='page_288'></a>288</span> +have been taught to read, to write, to dance, and to +embroider; and then her education would have been +deemed complete. It is no slight evidence of the good +sense of her uncle that he retained her in his own +house. The decision was a fortunate one for posterity; +for her faculties, which the formal training of the +convent would have cramped, were called into exercise +and expanded by an unusual indulgence in the +range of reading, and probably by a familiar intercourse +with the men of letters who sought her uncle’s society. +Under his instructions she doubtless acquired a knowledge +of the Latin and Italian languages, and something +of the Spanish. All this, however, is to some extent +matter of inference, for we have no record of her early +life. She tells us in her “Letters” that she was brought +up at court, and there she formed her manners and her +tastes—fortunately without the corruption of her morals.</p> +<p>From the accounts given by her witty and profligate +cousin Bussy-Robertin, we can obtain a tolerably correct +idea of her appearance when she entered as an +actor upon the scene of life. She was somewhat tall +for a woman; had a good shape, a pleasing voice, +a fine complexion, brilliant eyes, and a profusion of +light hair; but her eyes, though brilliant, were small, +and, together with the eyelashes, were of different tints: +her lips, though well colored, were too flat, and the +end of her nose too square. De Bussy tells us that she +had more shape than grace, yet danced well; she had +also a taste for singing. He makes to her the objection +that she was too playful “for a woman of quality.”</p> +<p>Not beautiful, but highly attractive, of cordial manners, +and with a lively sensibility, at one moment dissolved +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_289' name='page_289'></a>289</span> +in tears, and at another almost dying with +laughter,—Mademoiselle de Robertin, then eighteen +years old, was married to the Marquis de Sévigné, of +an ancient family of Brittany. Her letters written +during the first years of her marriage are full of gayety; +there is no trace of misfortune or sorrow. But her husband +was fond of pleasure, extravagant in his expenses, +heedless, and gay—a character not likely to escape +the contagion of that universal depravity of manners +which prevailed at the French court. His conduct +threw a cloud over their happiness. Madame de Sévigné +bore her misfortunes with dignity and patience. +In spite of his misconduct, she loved him deeply; and +his death, not long afterwards, in a duel, caused her +the most profound sorrow.</p> +<p>Her uncle, the abbé, resumed his former office of +protector and counsellor. He withdrew her from the +contemplation of her grief, and drew her attention to +her duties, the chief and dearest of which was the +education of her two children, a son and a daughter. +To this object, and to rendering the life of her uncle +happy, she resolved to devote herself. Of her obligations +to her uncle she thus speaks in a letter written +many years afterwards, on the occasion of his death: +“I am plunged in sorrow: ten days ago I saw my +dear uncle die; and you know what he was to his dear +niece. He has conferred on me every benefit in the +world, either by giving me property of his own, or +preserving and augmenting that of my children. He +drew me from the abyss into which M. de Sévigné’s +death plunged me; he gained lawsuits; he put my +affairs in good order; he paid our debts; he has made +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_290' name='page_290'></a>290</span> +the estate on which my son lives the prettiest and most +agreeable in the world.”</p> +<p>Time restored to the young widow her lost gayety, +and she was the delight of the circles in which she +was intimate. The Hôtel de Rambouillet, at Paris, +where she resided, was the resort of all who were +celebrated for wit or talent, and her presence was +always hailed with joy. <i>Euphuism</i> was the fashion of +the day, and in this <i>coterie</i> it had reached the highest +degree of perfection. Common appellations were +discarded; water became “<i>l’humeur celeste</i>,” and a +chaplet “<i>une chaine spirituelle</i>.” The use of names +was banished, and each was addressed as “ma chere” +or “ma precieuse.” “<i>Les Precieuses Ridicules</i>” of +Molière at length put an end to the affectation. Many +of the <i>coterie</i> were present at its first representation, +and were obliged to swallow the vexation which the +delight evinced by the public at seeing them held up to +ridicule, could not fail to excite.</p> +<p>The early education of her children being completed, +their establishment in life became a source +of anxiety. Her son, when nineteen, joined the +expedition to Candia; concerning which Madame de +Sévigné writes to her cousin De Bussy, “I suppose +you know that my son is gone to Candia. He mentioned +it to M. de Turenne, to Cardinal de Retz, and +to M. de la Rochefoucauld. These gentlemen so approved +his design that it was resolved on and made +public before I knew any thing of it. He is gone. I +wept his departure bitterly, and am deeply afflicted. +I shall not have a moment’s repose during the expedition. +I see all the dangers, and they destroy me; +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_291' name='page_291'></a>291</span> +but I am not the mistress. On such occasions mothers +have no voice.” She had reason for anxiety. Few of +the officers returned, but one of these was the Baron +de Sévigné. A commission was purchased for him +in the army, and he served with distinction during +several campaigns; but his family had taken part +against the court during the wars of the Fronde, and +were Jansenists, so that he received no promotion, and +at length left the army, and settled into a quiet, well-behaved, +country gentleman. Rejecting many nice +matches which his mother sought to make for him, he +chose a wife for himself, and his choice fortunately +met her approbation.</p> +<p>Her daughter was presented at court, in 1663, and +took part in the brilliant <i>fêtes</i> of the following year. +The mother’s heart was, no doubt, gladdened by the +declaration of the Count de Treville, a sort of oracle +in the great world, “<i>That</i> beauty will set the world on +fire.” Her marriage became a subject of the deepest +anxiety, and it was long before her mother was satisfied +with any of those who pretended to the hand +of “<i>la plus jolie fille de France</i>.” She at length accepted +the proposals of the twice-widowed Count de +Grignan, and the event is thus announced to her +cousin: “I must tell you a piece of news which will +doubtless delight you. At length the prettiest woman +in France is about to marry, not the handsomest youth, +but the most excellent man in the kingdom. You have +long known M. de Grignan. All his wives are dead, to +make room for your cousin, as well as, through wonderful +luck, his father and his son; so that, being +richer than he ever was, and being, through his birth, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_292' name='page_292'></a>292</span> +his position, and his good qualities, such as we desire, +we conclude at once. The public appears satisfied, +and that is much, for one is silly enough to be greatly +influenced by it.”</p> +<p>By marrying her daughter to a courtier, Madame de +Sévigné hoped to secure her daughter’s permanent +residence near herself at Paris. The count, however, +was deputy-governor of Provence, and received orders, +soon after his marriage, to proceed to that distant +province, where he continued to reside, with the exception +of occasional visits to Paris, during the remainder +of his mother-in-law’s life. The mother and +daughter contrived to pass about half the time with +each other, and, in the intervals, to keep up a conversation +by means of constant epistolary correspondence, +in which the former relates all the amusing +gossip which would have been subject of discourse had +they been together. To the mother’s share of these +conversations we are delighted listeners. She speaks +of events which in themselves are trifling, and of persons +of whom we never before heard; yet she is never +tedious. The vivacity of her intellect and the charms +of her style give an interest to every thought and act. +The task of selecting specimens is a difficult one; all +is worthy of transcription; we will take those which +throw the most light upon her character and mode +of life. The following was written at an estate of +her husband’s, called “The Rocks,” situated on the +sea-coast of Brittany, where she delighted to pass her +time: she had a love of the country, of nature, and of +simple pleasures—a rare taste for a Frenchwoman of +that age. Nothing pleased her more than the song of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_293' name='page_293'></a>293</span> +the nightingale, the cuckoo, and the thrush, during +the early spring; her writings are filled with her passion +for the birds and avenues of “Les Rochers.” +The letter is addressed, not to her daughter, but to her +cousin, De Coulanges.</p> +<p>“I write, my dear cousin, over and above the stipulated +fortnight communications, to advertise you that +you will soon have the honor of seeing Picard; and, +as he is brother to the lackey of Madame de Coulanges, +I must tell you the reason why. You know +that Madame the Duchess de Chaulnes is at Vitré; +she expects the duke there, in ten or twelve days, +with the states of Brittany. Well, and what then? +say you. I say that the duchess is expecting the duke +with all the states, and that meanwhile she is at Vitré +all alone, dying with ennui. And what, return you, +has this to do with Picard? Why, look; she is dying +with ennui, and I am her only consolation; and so you +may readily conceive that I carry it with a high hand. +A pretty roundabout way of telling my story, I must +confess; but it will bring us to the point. Well, then, +as I am her only consolation, it follows that, after I +have been to see her, she will come to see me, when, +of course, I shall wish her to find my garden in good +order—those fine walks of which you are so fond. +Still you are at a loss to conceive whither they are +leading you now. Attend, then, if you please, to a +little suggestion by the way. You are aware that +haymaking is going forward? Well, I have no haymakers; +I send into the neighboring fields to press +them into my service; there are none to be found; +and so all my own people are summoned to make hay +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_294' name='page_294'></a>294</span> +instead. But do you know what haymaking is? I +will tell you. Haymaking is the prettiest thing in the +world. You play at turning the grass over in a +meadow; and as soon as you know how to do that, +you know how to make hay. The whole house went +merrily to the task, all but Picard: he said he would +not go; that he was not engaged for such work; that +it was none of his business; and that he would sooner +betake himself to Paris. Faith! didn’t I get angry? +It was the hundredth disservice the silly fellow had +done me. I saw he had neither heart nor zeal; in +short, the measure of his offence was full. I took +him at his word; was deaf as a rock to all entreaties +in his behalf; and he has set off. It is fit that people +should be treated as they deserve. If you see him, +don’t welcome him; don’t protect him; and don’t +blame me. Only look upon him as, of all servants +in the world, the one least addicted to haymaking, and +therefore the most unworthy of good treatment. This +is the sum total of the affair. As for me, I am fond +of straightforward histories, that contain not a word +too much; that never go wandering about, and beginning +again from remote points; and, accordingly, I +think I may say, without vanity, that I hereby present +you with a model of an agreeable narration.”</p> +<p>We will now go with her to Paris, and listen to a +little of her gossip with her daughter.</p> +<blockquote> +<p class='sig2'>“<span class='smcap'>Paris</span>, <i>March 13th</i>.</p> +<p>“Behold me, to the delight of my heart, all alone +in my chamber, writing to you in tranquillity. Nothing +gives me comfort like being seated thus. I dined +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_295' name='page_295'></a>295</span> +to-day at Madame de Lavardin’s, after having been to +hear Bourdaloue, where I saw the mothers of the +church; for so I call the Princesses de Conti and +Longueville. All the world was at the sermon, and +the sermon was worthy of all that heard it. I thought +of you twenty times, and wished you as often beside +me. You would have been enchanted to be a listener, +and I should have been tenfold enchanted to see you +listen. * * *</p> +<p>“We have been to the fair, to see a great fright of a +woman, bigger than Riberpré by a whole head. * * * +And now, if you fancy all the maids of honor run mad, +you will not fancy amiss. Eight days ago, Madame +de Ludre, Coëtlogon, and little De Rouvroi were bitten +by a puppy belonging to Théobon, and the puppy has +died mad; so Ludre, Coëtlogon, and De Rouvroi set +off this morning for the coast, to be dipped three times +in the sea. ’Tis a dismal journey. Benserade is in +despair about it. Théobon does not choose to go, +though she had a little bite too. The queen, however, +objects to her being in waiting till the issue of the +adventure is known. Don’t you think Ludre resembles +Andromeda? For my part, I see her fastened +to the rock, and Tréville coming, on a winged horse, +to deliver her from the monster. * * * Ah, Bourdaloue! +what divine truths you told us to-day about +death! Madame de la Fayette heard him for the first +time in her life, and was transported with admiration. +She is enchanted with your remembrances. * * * A +scene took place yesterday at Mademoiselle’s, which I +enjoyed extremely. In comes Madame de Gevres, +full of her airs and graces. She looked as if she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_296' name='page_296'></a>296</span> +expected I should give her my poet; but, ’faith, I +owed her an affront for her behavior the other day, +so I didn’t budge. Mademoiselle was in bed; Madame +de Gevres was therefore obliged to go lower down; +no very pleasant thing that! Mademoiselle calls for +drink; somebody must present the napkin; Madame +de Gevres begins to draw off the glove from her skinny +hand; I gave a nudge to Madame d’Arpajou, who was +above me; she understands me, draws off her glove, +and, advancing a step with a very good grace, cuts +short the duchess, and takes and presents the napkin. +The duchess was quite confounded; she had made +her way up, and got off her gloves, and all to see the +napkin presented before her by Madame d’Arpajou! +My dear, I am a wicked creature; I was in a state of +delight; and indeed what could have been better +done? Would any one but Madame de Gevres have +thought of depriving Madame d’Arpajou of an honor +which fell so naturally to her share, standing as she +did by the bedside? It was as good as a cordial to +Madame de Puisieux. Mademoiselle did not dare to +lift up her eyes; and, as for myself, I had the most +good-for-nothing face!”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Who this Mademoiselle was, Madame de Sévigné +shall herself tell. The following, one of the most +curious of her letters, is addressed to her cousin, De +Coulanges: “I am going to tell you a thing, which, +of all things in the world, is the most astonishing, the +most surprising, the most marvellous, the most miraculous, +the most triumphant, the most bewildering, the +most unheard-of, the most singular, the most extraordinary, +the most incredible, the most unexpected, the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_297' name='page_297'></a>297</span> +most exalting, the most humbling, the most rare, the +most common, the most public, the most private,—till +this moment,—the most brilliant, the most enviable, +in short, a thing of which no example is to be found +in past times; at least, nothing quite like it;—a thing +which we do not know how to believe in Paris; how, +then, are you to believe it at Lyons? a thing which +makes all the world cry out, ‘Lord, have mercy on us!’ +a thing which has transported Madame de Rohan and +Madame d’Hauterive; a thing which is to be done on +Sunday, and yet perhaps will not be completed till +Monday. I cannot expect you to guess it at once. I +give you a trial of three times; do you give it up? +Well, then, I must tell you. M. de Lauzun is to +marry, next Sunday, at the Louvre; guess whom. I +give you four times to guess it; I give you six; I give +you a hundred. ‘Truly,’ cries Madame de Coulanges, +‘it must be a very difficult thing to guess; ’tis Madame +de la Vallière.’ ‘No, it isn’t, madame.’ ‘’Tis +Mademoiselle de Retz, then.’ ‘No, it isn’t, madame; +you are terribly provincial.’ ‘O, we are very stupid, +no doubt,’ say you; ‘’tis Mademoiselle Colbert.’ +Farther off than ever. ‘Well, then, it must be Mademoiselle +de Crequi?’ You are not a bit nearer. +Come, I see I must tell you at last. Well, M. de +Lauzun marries, next Sunday, at the Louvre, with +the king’s permission, Mademoiselle—Mademoiselle +de—Mademoiselle de—guess the name!—he marries +‘<span class='smcap'>Mademoiselle</span>,’—the <i>great</i> Mademoiselle; +Mademoiselle, the daughter of the late Monsieur; +Mademoiselle, granddaughter of Henry the Fourth; +Mademoiselle d’Eu, Mademoiselle de Dombes, Mademoiselle +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_298' name='page_298'></a>298</span> +de Montpensier, Mademoiselle d’Orleans, +Mademoiselle, cousin of the king, Mademoiselle, destined +to the throne, Mademoiselle, the only woman in +France fit to marry Monsieur! Here’s pretty news +for your <i>coteries</i>! Exclaim about it as much as you +will; let it turn your heads; say, we ‘lie,’ if you +please; that it’s a pretty joke; that it’s ‘tiresome;’ +that we are a ‘parcel of ninnies;’ we give you leave; +we have done just the same to others. Adieu! The +letters that come by the post will show whether we +have been speaking truth or not.”</p> +<p>Once more with her to Paris, and listen to the +graphic description which she gives her daughter of +the French court:—</p> +<blockquote> +<p class='sig2'>“<span class='smcap'>Paris</span>, Wednesday, <i>July 24th, 1676</i>.</p> +<p>“We have a change of the scene here, which will +gratify you as much as it does all the world. I was +at Versailles last Saturday with the Villarses. You +know the queen’s toilet, the mass, and the dinner? +Well, there is no longer any need of suffocating ourselves +in a crowd to get a glimpse of their majesties +at table. At three, the king, the queen, monsieur, +madame, mademoiselle, and every thing else which +is royal, together with De Montespan and train, and all +the courtiers, and all the ladies, all, in short, which +constitutes the court of France, is assembled in that +beautiful apartment of the king’s which you remember. +All is furnished divinely; all is magnificent. Such a +thing as heat is unknown; you pass from one place to +another without the slightest pressure. A game at +<i>reversis</i> gives the company a form and a settlement. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_299' name='page_299'></a>299</span> +The king and Madame de Montespan keep a bank +together; different tables are kept by monsieur, the +queen, Dangeau and party, &c.; every where you see +heaps of <i>Louis d’ors</i>; they have no counters. I saw +Dangeau play, and thought what fools we were beside +him. He dreams of nothing but what concerns the +game; he wins where others lose; he neglects nothing, +and profits by every thing; never has his attention +diverted; in short, his science bids defiance to chance. +Two hundred thousand francs in ten days—a pretty +memorandum to put down in his pocket-book! He +was kind enough to say that I was partner with him, +so that I got an excellent seat. I made my obeisance +to the king, as you told me; and he returned it as if I +had been young and handsome. The queen talked to +me about my illness; the duke said a thousand pretty +things, without minding a word he uttered. Maréchal +de Lorges attacked me in the name of the Chevalier +de Grignan; in short, all the company. You know +what it is to get a word from every body you meet. +Madame de Montespan talked to me of Bourbon, and +asked me how I liked Vichi, and whether the place did +me good. She said that Bourbon, instead of curing +the pain in one of her knees, did mischief to both. +Her size is reduced one half, and yet her complexion, +her eyes, and her lips, are as fine as ever. She was +dressed all in French point, her hair in a thousand +ringlets, the two side ones hanging low on her cheeks, +black ribbons on her head, pearls,—the same that belonged +to Madame de l’Hopital,—the loveliest diamond +ear-rings, three or four bodkins, nothing else on +the head; in short, a triumphant beauty, worthy the admiration +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_300' name='page_300'></a>300</span> +of all foreign ambassadors. She was accused +of preventing the whole French nation from seeing the +king; she has restored him, you see, to their eyes; and +you cannot conceive the joy it has given all the world, +and the splendor it has thrown upon the court. This +charming confusion, without confusion, of all which is +the most select, continues from three to six. If couriers +arrive, the king retires a moment to read the +despatches, and returns. There is always some music +going on, to which he listens, and which has an excellent +effect. He talks with such of the ladies as are +accustomed to enjoy that honor. In short, they leave +play at six; there is no trouble of counting, for there +is no sort of counters; the pools consist of five or six +Louis; the bigger one, of a thousand or twelve hundred. +Talking is incessantly going on, and there is no end of +<i>hearts</i>. ‘How many hearts have you?’ ‘I have two;’ +‘I have three;’ and Dangeau is delighted with all this +chatter; he sees through the game; he draws his conclusions; +he discovers which is the person he wants: +truly he is your man for holding the cards. At six the +carriages are at the door. The king is in one of them, +with Madame de Montespan, Monsieur and Madame de +Thianges, and honest D’Heudicourt, in a fool’s paradise +on the stool. You know how those open carriages +are made; they do not sit face to face, but all looking +the same way. The queen occupies another, with the +princess; and the rest come flocking after, as it may +happen. There are then gondolas on the canal; and +music; and at ten they come back, and then there is a +play; and twelve strikes, and they go to supper; and +thus rolls round the Saturday.”</p> +</blockquote> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_301' name='page_301'></a>301</span></div> +<p>And thus rolled round every day; and to support +this wanton and profligate expenditure of money, the +people were ground to the dust with taxes. Nothing +can more strongly mark the general debasement of +sentiment, than that Madame de Sévigné, a woman +whose character the breath of slander had never ventured +to asperse, should describe this scene without +one word of reprobation, but, on the contrary, should +conclude with a wish that this season of happiness at +the court may endure.</p> +<p>The following extract seems to show that she +had a yearning for something better in the midst of +this idle dissipation—though the terms in which she +expresses herself are far from commendable: “I +wish I could be religious. I plague La Moresse—the +abbé—about it every day. I belong at present +neither to God nor devil; and I find this condition +very uncomfortable; though, between you and me, +I think it the most natural in the world. One does +not belong to the devil, because one fears God, and +has at bottom a principle of religion; but then, on +the other hand, one does not belong to God, because +his laws appear hard, and self-denial is not +pleasant. Hence the great number of the lukewarm, +which does not surprise me at all; I enter perfectly +into their reasons; only God, you know, hates +them, and that must not be. But there lies the difficulty. +Why must I torment you with these rhapsodies? +My dear child, <i>I ask your pardon</i>, as they +say in these parts. I rattle on in your company, and +forget every thing else in the pleasure of it. Don’t +make me any answer. Send me only news of your +health, with a spice of what you feel at Grignan, that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_302' name='page_302'></a>302</span> +I may know you are happy; that is all. Love me. +We have turned the phrase into ridicule; but it is natural; +it is good.”</p> +<p>Perhaps she was led into these reflections by her +admiration for the beautiful Duchess de Longueville, +who, from having been “the greatest of sinners, became +the greatest of saints:” a princess of the blood royal,—a +leader in all the dissolute scenes which characterized +the wars of the Fronde,—she voluntarily retired to a +convent, where she practised all those austerities, by +which the pious Catholic believed he might atone for +past transgressions. Of the sincerity of her conversion +she gave repeated testimonies, and Madame de +Sévigné ever speaks of her with the greatest veneration +and respect. That she had too much good practical +sense to be deceived by those who sought by the +excitement of religious rites to make up for the loss of +the excitements of pleasure, or who assumed the garb +of religion in mere compliance with the fashion which +prevailed at court, under the rule of Madame de +Maintenon, is apparent from the light tone of the following +passage: “Madame de T. wears no rouge, +and hides her person, instead of displaying it. Under +this disguise it is difficult to know her again. I was +sitting next her at dinner the other day, and a servant +brought her a glass of <i>vin de liqueur</i>; she turned to +me, and said, ‘This man does not know that I am +<i>dévote</i>.’ This made us all laugh, and she spoke very +naturally of her changes, and of her good intentions. +She now minds what she says of her neighbors, and +stops short in her recitals, with a scream at her bad +habits. There are bets made that Madame d’H. will +not be <i>dévote</i> within a year, and that she will resume +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_303' name='page_303'></a>303</span> +her rouge. This rouge is the law and the prophets, +and on this rouge turns the whole of the Christian +religion.”</p> +<p>Tested by the morality of our day, Madame de +Sévigné could not claim a very exalted character: +yet we are bound to mention one trait, which honorably +distinguishes her from her contemporaries. +Louis XIV., for the purpose of reducing the power of +his nobles, systematically encouraged them in the most +boundless extravagance, of which he himself set them +the example. The natural consequence followed; +they became inextricably involved in debts, with so +little idea of ever paying them, that the conduct of the +Cardinal de Retz, who sought to atone for early excesses +by retiring to the country, and husbanding his +resources for this purpose, excited universal wonder, +and was too extraordinary to be generally credited. +Madame de Sévigné fully appreciated the propriety of +this conduct of De Retz, and bestows upon it many +commendations. When such were the sentiments of +her mother, it is not a little surprising to hear of a poor +milliner, whose necessities compelled her to undertake +a journey of five hundred miles, from Paris to Provence, +to collect a debt from Madame de Grignan, being +dismissed without her money, and being told in substance, +if not in words, that she might thank her good +fortune that she did not make her exit through the +window—a summary mode of cancelling debts, often +threatened, if not executed, when creditors were importunate. +Nor were Madame de Sévigné’s mere professions. +The occasion arose which tried her principles. +The extravagance of her husband left her with estates +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_304' name='page_304'></a>304</span> +encumbered with debts; the education and maintenance +of her children were expensive; her son’s +commission in the army was purchased at a high +price; her rents were not paid with punctuality, and +she was obliged to remit large debts to her tenants. +From all these causes, she found herself, at the age of +fifty-eight, involved in debts, which nothing but a retirement +from Paris, and the practice of a rigid economy, +would enable her to pay. She did not hesitate to +withdraw herself from her beloved society in Paris, +and to retire to “The Rocks.” The sacrifice was rendered +more complete by the fact that her daughter +was at that time residing at Paris. Her absence was +felt bitterly by her friends, and she was at once mortified +and gratified by the offer of a loan of money to +facilitate her return. Madame de la Fayette wrote to +make her the proposition: “You must not, my dear, +at any price whatever, pass the winter in Brittany. +You are old; ‘The Rocks’ are thickly wooded; colds +will destroy you; you will get weary; your mind will +become sad, and lose its tone: this is certain; and all +the business in the world is nothing in comparison. +Do not speak of money nor of debts;” and then follows +the proposal. Madame de Sévigné declined the +offer, being unwilling to incur the obligation. Conceived +with all possible kindness, there was a sting in +the letter which Madame de Sévigné confesses to her +daughter, that she felt. “You were, then, struck +by Madame de la Fayette’s expression mingled with so +much kindness. Although I never allow myself to forget +this truth, I confess I was quite surprised; for as yet +I feel no decay to remind me of it. However, I often +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_305' name='page_305'></a>305</span> +reflect and calculate, and find the conditions on which +we enjoy life very hard. It seems to me that I was +dragged, in spite of myself, to the fatal term when one +must suffer old age. I see it—am there. I should +at least like to go no farther in the road of decrepitude, +pain, loss of memory, and disfigurement, which +are at hand to injure me. I hear a voice that says, +‘Even against your will you must go on; or, if you, +refuse, you must die;’ which is another necessity from +which nature shrinks. Such is the fate of those who +go a little too far. What is their resource? To think +of the will of God, and the universal law; and so +restore reason to its place, and be patient. Be you, +then, patient, my dear child, and let not your affection +soften into such tears as reason must condemn.”</p> +<p>As Madame de Sévigné would not return to Paris, +her friends heard with pleasure that she had resolved +to go to Grignan, the residence of her daughter in +Provence. Here the greater part of her remaining +life was spent, and the correspondence with her daughter +entirely ceases from this time. Madame de Sévigné +died, after a sudden and short illness, in April, +1696, at the age of seventy.</p> +<p>It may gratify some to know that the letters of +Madame de Sévigné were apparently written in haste, +beginning the writing on the second page of the paper, +continuing to the third and fourth, and returning to the +first: she used neither sand nor blotting-paper. Speaking +to her daughter, Madame de S. says, “The princess +is always saying that she is going to write to you; she +mends her pens; for her writing is a great affair, and +her letters a sort of embroidery; not done in a moment. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_306' name='page_306'></a>306</span> +<i>We</i> should never finish, were we to make fine +twists and twirls to our <i>D’s</i> and <i>L’s</i>;” in allusion to +the German and Italian fashion of the day of making +ornaments with their pens, called <i>lacs d’amour</i>. The +letters were sealed on both sides, and a piece of white +floss silk fastened it entirely round.</p> +<p>Of the English admirers of Madame de Sévigné, +the most distinguished and the most warm in the expression +of their admiration are Horace Walpole and +Sir James Mackintosh, men of totally opposite turns +of mind; the former a professed wit, and himself a +letter-writer, the latter a grave lawyer and statesman. +We conclude this memoir by giving the character of +Madame de Sévigné as drawn by the latter. “The +great charm of her character seems to me a <i>natural</i> +virtue. In what she does, as well as in what she says, +she is unforced and unstudied; nobody, I think, had so +much morality without constraint, and played so much +with amiable feelings without falling into vice. Her +ingenious, lively, social disposition gave the direction +to her mental power. She has so filled my heart with +affectionate interest in her as a living friend, that I can +scarcely bring myself to think of her as a writer, or as +having a style; but she has become a celebrated, +perhaps an immortal writer, without expecting it: she +is the only classical writer who never conceived the +possibility of acquiring fame. Without a great force +of style, she could not have communicated those feelings. +In what does that talent consist? It seems +mainly to consist in the power of working bold metaphors, +and unexpected turns of expression, out of the +most familiar part of conversational language.”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_307' name='page_307'></a>307</span> +<a name='MARY_QUEEN_OF_SCOTS' id='MARY_QUEEN_OF_SCOTS'></a> +<h2>MARY, QUEEN OF SCOTS.</h2> +</div> +<p>In December, 1542, Mary Stuart, daughter of James +V. of Scotland, then seven days old, succeeded to the +throne of a kingdom rent by religious and political factions, +and suffering from the consequences of a disastrous +war with England.</p> +<p>The union of Scotland to England had ever been a +favorite project with English sovereigns, and the present +seemed to Henry VIII. a favorable opportunity for +peaceably effecting it. He lost no time, therefore, in +proposing a match between the infant queen and his +own son, Edward. His proposal found little favor; +the haughty nobles could not endure to see their +country become a mere province of England; and +the queen mother and her religious advisers feared for +the security of the Catholic religion. Henry might, +however, have ultimately succeeded, had he acted with +prudence. But he sought to terrify the Scots into submission; +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_308' name='page_308'></a>308</span> +and those who succeeded to the government +of England upon his death, which happened soon after, +persisted in the same policy. An army was sent into +Scotland, to ravage the country and pillage the towns +and villages. This mode of wooing did not suit the +temper of the Scots; and an end was soon put to all +hopes by the negotiation of a marriage treaty between +the queen and Francis, the infant dauphin of France. +In pursuance of this treaty, Mary, then in her sixth +year, was sent to France to be educated. She was at +first placed in a convent with the king’s daughters, +where she made a rapid progress in all the accomplishments +they attempted to teach her. Here her enthusiastic +disposition was so strongly impressed with religious +feelings, and she evinced such a fondness for a cloistered +life, that it was thought proper to remove her to +the gayer scenes of the court—a change which cost her +torrents of tears. The fashion for learning prevailed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_309' name='page_309'></a>309</span> +at this time, and Mary profited by it. Her instructors +were the most eminent men of the time; Buchanan +taught her Latin; Pasquier instructed her in history; +Ronsard, the most famous of the early French poets, +cultivated her taste for poetry: they found her not only +a willing but an able pupil. Other accomplishments +were not neglected; she sung, and played on the lute +and the virginals; she rode on horseback fearlessly, +yet with feminine grace; her dancing was always admired; +and we are assured that in the Spanish minuet +she was equalled only by her aunt, the beautiful Anne +of Este, and no lady of the court could eclipse her in +a galliarde. Her beauty and the charming expression +of her countenance were such, that, as a contemporary +asserts, “no one could look upon her without loving +her.” When her mother came over to visit her in +1550, she burst into tears of joy, and congratulated +herself on her daughter’s capacity and loveliness. +Soon after Mary’s marriage to Francis, in 1558, Elizabeth +ascended the English throne; the pope, and the +French and Spanish courts, refused to acknowledge +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_310' name='page_310'></a>310</span> +her; and Mary, undisputably the next heir, was compelled +by the commands of her father-in-law to assume +the title and arms of queen of England—a measure +of unforeseen but fatal consequences to her, as it +added fresh fuel to the fires of envy, jealousy, and +hatred, which the personal advantages of Mary had +already excited in the bosom of her vain and vindictive +rival.</p> +<div class='figcenter'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_10' id='linki_10'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/illo-308.png' alt='' title='' width='396' height='550' /> +<br /> +<p class='caption'> +MARY, QUEEN OF SCOTS, AT WINFIELD CASTLE.<br /> +</p> +</div> +<p>In 1558, Francis and Mary were crowned king and +queen of France. Francis survived this event but a +few months. He was far inferior to his wife, both in +personal and mental accomplishments; he was of +sickly constitution, and very reserved; but he had an +affectionate and kind disposition. He was not a man +to call forth the deepest and most passionate feelings +of such a heart as Mary’s; but she ever treated him +with tenderness and most respectful attention. She is +described by an eye-witness as a “sorrowful widow,” +and lamented her husband sincerely.</p> +<p>The happiness of Mary’s life was now at an end. +She was a stranger in the land of which she had so +recently been crowned queen. In the queen mother, +the ambitious Catherine de Medicis, who now ruled +France in the name of her son Charles IX., Mary had +an inveterate foe. In the reign of Francis they had +been rivals for power, when the charms of the wife +had triumphed over the authority of the mother. +There was another wound which had long rankled in +the vindictive bosom of Catherine. In the artlessness +of youth, Mary had once boasted of her own descent +from a “hundred kings,” which was supposed to +reflect on the mercantile lineage of the daughter of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_311' name='page_311'></a>311</span> +the Medicis. She now took her revenge. By the most +studied slights she sought to mortify Mary, who first +retired to Rheims. Here she was waited on by a +deputation from her own nobles, who invited her, in +terms which amounted to a command, to return to +her native country.</p> +<p>A new cause of difficulty now occurred between +Mary and Elizabeth. The heads of the reformed +religious party in Scotland, called the “Lords of the +Congregation,” had negotiated a treaty with Elizabeth, +one of the terms of which was a renunciation, on the +part of Mary, of all claims to the crown of England +forever. This Mary refused to ratify, and replied to +the crafty ministers of her rival with a spirit, intelligence, +and firmness, extraordinary in a girl of eighteen. +At the same time, she was courteous and gentle, and +apologized for the assumption of the title and arms of +queen of England, which, at the death of her husband, +she had renounced. Attempts had been made to excite +the fears of her Protestant subjects, which she +thus set at rest: “I will be plain with you; the religion +I profess I take to be the most acceptable to God; +and indeed I neither know nor desire any other. I +have been brought up in this religion, and who might +credit me in any thing if I should show myself light +in this case? I am none of those who change their +religion every year; but I mean to constrain none of +my subjects, though I could wish they were all as I +am; and I trust they shall have no support to constrain +me.”</p> +<p>Having at length resolved to return home, Mary +sent to demand of Elizabeth a free passage; it was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_312' name='page_312'></a>312</span> +a mere point of courtesy and etiquette, but it was refused. +The English ambassador sought in vain to justify +his mistress’s conduct; it arose from exasperated +jealousy, and was inexcusable and mean, as well as +discourteous.</p> +<p>It was with grief almost amounting to despair that +Mary left the scenes of her early attachments, and +of all her pleasures. Accustomed to the refinement +of the court of France, she reflected with a degree of +horror on the barbarism of her own country, and the +turbulence of the people. She stood upon the deck +of the vessel which bore her, gazing through her +tears on the receding shores. “Farewell, France!” +she would exclaim from time to time; “farewell, beloved +country, which I shall never more behold!” +When night came on, she caused a bed to be spread +on the deck, and wept herself to sleep.</p> +<p>By the favor of a thick fog, Mary escaped the fleet +which Elizabeth had sent out to intercept her, and +landed at Leith. With sensations of terror and sadness +she entered her capital; and they may well be +excused. The poverty of the country formed a striking +contrast with the fertile plains of France. The +weather was wet and “dolorous;” and a serenade of +bagpipes, with which the populace hailed her, seems +to have greatly disconcerted her polished attendants. +But Mary herself took every thing in good part, and, +after a while, she so far recovered her gayety, that +the masques and dancing, the “fiddling” and “uncomely +skipping,” gave great offence to John Knox +and the rest of the grave reformers, who inveighed +against such practices from the pulpit; and the former, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_313' name='page_313'></a>313</span> +with a violence and rudeness altogether unmanly, personally +upbraided her, so as to make her weep. In +one brought up in “joyousness,” such austerity could +not fail to excite disgust, and a stronger clinging to +the more kind and genial doctrines of her own faith. +But she made no retaliation; she sought, on the contrary, +to win the affection of all her subjects, and to +introduce happiness and prosperity, as well as a more +refined civilization, into her country. Her life for a +few years was tranquil. She gave four or five hours +every day to state affairs; she was wont to have her +embroidery frame placed in the room where the council +met, and while she plied the needle, she joined in the +discussions, displaying in her own opinions and suggestions +a vigor of mind and quickness which astonished +the statesmen around her. At other times she +applied to study. She brought a great many books +with her to Scotland, and the first artificial globes that +had ever been seen there. She was fond of music, and +maintained a band of minstrels. Her other amusements +were hawking, hunting, dancing, and walking in +the open air. She was fond of gardening; she had +brought from France a little sycamore plant, which +she planted in the gardens of Holyrood, and tended +with care; and from this parent stem arose the beautiful +groves which are now met with in Scotland. She +excelled at the game of chess, and delighted in the +allegorical representations, so much in fashion in her +day, by the name of “masques.”</p> +<p>Though Mary could not but feel some resentment +at the injurious treatment which she received from +Elizabeth, yet she sought to conciliate her, and there +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_314' name='page_314'></a>314</span> +was a great exhibition of courtesy and compliment, +and “sisterly” affection, between them. Mary even +consulted Elizabeth about her marriage. But that +sovereign, with a littleness almost inconceivable, could +not bear that others should enjoy any happiness of +which she herself was debarred, and her own subjects +could in no way more surely incur her displeasure +than by marriage. She now sought to delay that of +Mary. She proposed to her a most unworthy match, +and, when this, as it was intended it should be, was +rejected, offered objections to all which were proposed +by Mary.</p> +<p>At length, the suggestions of a powerful party +seconding his own ambitious wishes, Henry Darnley +entered the lists to obtain her favor. He was possessed +of every external accomplishment, being remarkably +tall, handsome, agreeable, and “well instructed +in all comely exercises.” His mother, “a very wise +and discreet matron,” Rizzio, and others, familiar +with the queen’s tastes, instructed him in the best +methods of being agreeable to her. He affected a +great degree of refinement, and a fondness for music +and poetry. The queen, deceived and captivated, +made choice of him for her husband—a choice which +at the time seemed most proper and eligible; for he +was a Protestant, and next heir, after herself, to the +English throne. They were married in 1565. For a +short time Mary thought herself happy. In the first +effusions of her passion, she lavished upon her husband +every mark of love, and of distinction, even to conferring +upon him the title of king of Scotland. But her +tenderness and attentions were all thrown away, and, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_315' name='page_315'></a>315</span> +instead of respect and gratitude, she met with brutality +and insolence. Violent, fickle, insolent, ungrateful, +and addicted to the lowest pleasures, he was incapable +of all true sentiments of love and tenderness. Love, +for a time, blinded Mary’s reason, and she made excuses +for his faults; but, as his true temper and character +became more known to her, she treated him with more +reserve, and refused some of his unreasonable demands. +Irritated, Darnley sought for some one in +the confidence of the queen upon whom he might +wreak his vengeance.</p> +<p>There was at the court a young Italian, named +Rizzio, who has already been mentioned as forwarding +Darnley’s suit. He had come to Scotland in the +train of the ambassador of Savoy: the three pages, or +songsters, who used to sing trios before Mary, wanted +a bass, and Rizzio was appointed. Being not only a +scientific musician, but a good penman, well acquainted +with French and Italian, supple and intelligent, Rizzio +contrived to make himself generally useful, and was, +in 1564, appointed French secretary to the queen. +Some designing nobles, jealous of the favor enjoyed +by this foreigner, and likewise desirous of effecting a +permanent breach between Darnley and the queen, +persuaded him that Rizzio was the author of the +queen’s displeasure, and engaged him in a plot to +murder him, which was thus carried into execution. +As Mary was sitting at supper, attended by Rizzio, +and a few other of the officials of her court, Darnley +entered by a private passage which communicated +directly with his own apartments, and, casting his +arms fondly round her waist, seated himself by her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_316' name='page_316'></a>316</span> +side. A minute had scarcely elapsed, when Ruthven, +in complete armor, rushed in. He had just risen from +a sick bed; his features were sunken, his voice hollow, +and his whole appearance haggard and terrible. Mary +started up in affright, and bade him begone; but ere +the words were uttered, torches gleamed in the outer +room, a confused noise of voices and weapons was +heard, and the other conspirators rushed in. Ruthven +now drew his dagger, and calling out that their business +was with Rizzio, endeavored to seize him; while +this miserable victim, springing behind the queen, +clung by her gown, and besought her protection. All +was now uproar and confusion; the tables and lights +were thrown down. Mary earnestly entreated them to +have mercy, but in vain. Whilst one of the band held +a pistol to her breast, the victim, already wounded and +bleeding, was torn from her knees, and dragged through +her bed-chamber to the door of the presence chamber, +where he was finally despatched. Fifty-six wounds +were found in the body, and the king’s dagger was +left sticking in it, to show, as was afterwards alleged, +that he had sanctioned the murder. Ruthven, faint +from sickness, and reeking from the scene of blood, +staggered into the queen’s cabinet, where Mary still +stood distracted, and in terror of her life. Here he +threw himself upon a seat, called for a cup of wine, +and plunged a new dagger into the heart of the queen, +by declaring that her husband had advised the whole. +Mary was kept the whole night locked up, alone, in +the room in which this terrible scene had been enacted. +The next day Darnley visited her, and she, ignorant +of the extent of his guilt, employed all her eloquence +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_317' name='page_317'></a>317</span> +to induce him to desert the desperate men with whom +he was leagued. He consented, and they fled together +to Dunbar.</p> +<p>A new actor must now be brought upon the stage—the +ambitious, dissolute, and daring Bothwell. He +was the head of one of the most ancient and powerful +families in the kingdom, and, in all the plots and intrigues, +he had ever remained faithful to the interests +of the queen; it was natural, therefore, that he should +stand high in her favor. It was chiefly through his +active exertions that she now effected her escape; and +she soon found herself at the head of a body of men, +chiefly his clansmen, sufficiently powerful to bring the +murderers of Rizzio to punishment. It is a striking +instance of her clemency, that only two persons were +executed for this crime.</p> +<p>Three months after the murder, she gave birth to a +son, afterwards James I. of England; at whose christening +Elizabeth stood godmother, notwithstanding her +envious and repining exclamation, that “the queen of +Scots should be mother of a fair son, while she was +only a barren stock.” Even this joyous event could +not dispel the melancholy of Mary, who now suffered +so much from the conduct of Darnley as often to be +seen in tears, and was frequently heard to wish herself +dead. The lords of her council urged a divorce, but +she would not listen to this. “I will that you do +nothing,” said she, “by which any spot may be laid +on my honor or conscience; but wait till God, of his +goodness, shall put a remedy to it.” Finding the +queen immovable on this point, Bothwell, who had +now conceived the ambitious project of succeeding +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_318' name='page_318'></a>318</span> +to his place, resolved to murder Darnley, who was +just recovering from the smallpox, and was lodged, +for the benefit of fresh air, at a house called the Kirk-of-field, +near Edinburgh. His illness and lonely situation +touched the tender heart of Mary. She visited +him constantly, and bestowed on him the kindest attentions. +She brought her band of musicians to amuse +him. She seldom left him during the day, and usually +passed the night in the house. But on Sunday, the +9th of February, on taking leave of him for the night, +she went to the palace of Holyrood, to be present at +the marriage of two of her servants. While engaged +in these festivities, the house in which her husband +slept was blown up, and his lifeless body was found in +a garden at some distance. Every thing pointed to +Bothwell as the author of this crime; but he, after a +trial had before a jury composed of the first noblemen +of the kingdom, was acquitted.</p> +<p>Bothwell’s next object was to marry the queen; and +the steps he took for this purpose were too extraordinary, +and apparently unnecessary, to have had her +connivance. We are told that, as she was returning +to Edinburgh, she was met by Bothwell at the head of +a large body of retainers, who forcibly dispersed her +small retinue, and carried her to Dunbar Castle. He +then procured the signatures of a large number of the +most distinguished of the nobles and ecclesiastics to a +bond recommending him to the queen as a most fit +and proper husband, and binding themselves to consider +as a common enemy whoever should oppose the +marriage. Armed with this document, strengthened +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_319' name='page_319'></a>319</span> +by a vote of the council, Bothwell brought the queen +to Edinburgh, and there the marriage was solemnized.</p> +<p>The month which Mary passed with Bothwell after +the marriage, was the most miserable of her miserable +life. He treated her with such indignity, that a day +did not pass in which “he did not cause her to shed +abundance of salt tears.” Those very lords, who had +recommended the marriage, now made it a pretext +for rebellion. Both parties took up arms, and met at +Carberry Hill. Mary here adopted an unexpected and +decisive step. She offered to the rebels to dismiss +Bothwell, and place herself in their hands, if they +would be answerable for her safety, and return to +their allegiance. Her terms were accepted; Bothwell +was persuaded by her to leave the field. They +never met again; and thus in less than a month this +union was virtually ended.</p> +<p>Mary was soon committed as a prisoner to Lochleven +Castle, a fortress in the midst of a lake, to the +immediate custody of Lady Margaret Douglas, a woman +of harsh and unfeeling temper, and who had +personal motives for irritation against her. Cut off +from all intercourse with those in whom she had confidence, +and harassed by daily ill usage, her enemies +trusted that her spirit would at length be broken, and +that she would submit to any terms which should +promise relief. Accordingly, after some weeks, she +was visited by a deputation of the rebels, who demanded +her signature to a paper declaring her own +incapacity to govern, and abdicating the throne in favor +of her son. Upon her refusal to make this humiliating +declaration, Lindsay, the fiercest of the confederates, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_320' name='page_320'></a>320</span> +rudely seized her hand with his own gauntleted +palm, and, with threats of instant death in case +of non-compliance, compelled her to set her signature +to the deed; she, in a paroxysm of tears, calling on +all present to witness that she did so through her fear +for her life, and therefore that the act was not valid.</p> +<p>Bothwell, meanwhile, after wandering from place to +place, now lurking among his vassals, now seeking +refuge with his friends, at length fled, with a single +ship, towards Norway. Falling in with a vessel of +that country, richly laden, he attacked it, but was himself +taken, and carried to Norway, where for ten years +he languished in captivity; till, by melancholy and +despair deprived of reason, unpitied and unassisted, he +ended his wretched life in a dungeon. A declaration +addressed to the king of Denmark, in which he gives a +succinct account of all the transactions in which he was +engaged in Scotland, is yet preserved in the library of +the king of Sweden. In it he completely exonerates +Mary from having the slightest concern in the murder +of Darnley; and again, before his death, when confessing +his own share in it, he solemnly acquits her +of all pre-knowledge of the crime.</p> +<p>Mary now, in her distress, found assistance from an +unexpected quarter. Her misfortunes, and gentle resignation +under them, excited the pity and sympathy +of the <i>little William Douglas</i>, a boy of fifteen, a son of +her jailer; and he resolved to undertake her deliverance. +The first attempt failed. The queen had succeeded +in leaving the castle in the disguise of a laundress, +and was already seated in the boat, to cross the +lake, when she betrayed herself by raising her hand. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_321' name='page_321'></a>321</span> +The beauty and extreme whiteness of that hand discovered +her at once, and she was carried back to her +chamber in tears and bitterness of heart. The next +attempt was more successful, and she reached Hamilton +in safety. Many nobles of the highest distinction +hastened to offer their support, and, in three days +after leaving Lochleven, she was at the head of six +thousand men, devoted to her cause.</p> +<p>The other party made haste to assemble their forces. +At their head was Murray, a half-brother of the queen—a +man whom she had loaded with benefits and honors, +and to whom she had twice granted life, when +condemned for treason. He now acted as regent, in +the minority of the infant prince, whom the confederates +assumed to be king. The hostile bands met at +Langside. From a neighboring hill, Mary viewed a +conflict on which her fate depended. She beheld—with +what anguish of heart may be imagined—the +fortune of the day turn against her; she saw her +faithful friends cut to pieces, taken prisoners, or flying +before the victorious Murray. When all was lost, +her general, Lord Herries, came up to her, seized her +bridle, and turned her horse’s head from the dismal +scene. With a few adherents she fled southwards; +nor did she repose till she reached Dundrennan, sixty +miles from the field of battle. There Mary, trusting +in Elizabeth’s recent professions of friendship, took the +fatal resolution of throwing herself upon the compassion +and protection of the English queen. As she +approached the boundary, her resolution faltered; the +coming evils seemed to cast their shadows before; but +those which awaited her, if she remained, were certain, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_322' name='page_322'></a>322</span> +and she crossed the small stream which formed the +parting line.</p> +<p>Mary was at this time in her twenty-sixth year; in +the very prime of existence, in the full bloom of beauty +and health, when a dark pall was spread over her life. +Thenceforward her history presents one painful picture +of monotonous suffering on the one hand, and of +meanness, treachery, and cruelty, on the other. With +relentless cruelty, her rival kept her in perpetual +bonds; the only changes were from prison to prison, +and from one harsh keeper to another; from the gleam +of delusive hope to the blackness of succeeding disappointment.</p> +<p>As soon as she entered England, Mary addressed a +letter to Elizabeth, in which she painted in glowing +colors the wrongs she had endured, and implored the +sympathy and assistance of her “good sister.” A +generous and magnanimous sovereign would not have +hesitated as to the answer to be made to such an +appeal. But Elizabeth deliberated; she consulted her +counsel; the object of long years of hatred was in her +power; one whose very existence was an outrage +upon her personal vanity; her malicious feelings of +envy and jealousy got the mastery, and Mary’s detention +as a prisoner was resolved on. Still, however, a +show of decency was to be preserved. Noblemen of +suitable rank were sent to receive her, carrying with +them letters from their sovereign filled with prostituted +expressions of condolence and sympathy. At the +same time, orders were given that Mary should not be +allowed to leave the kingdom. To Mary’s demand of +a formal interview, Elizabeth replied, that the honor +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_323' name='page_323'></a>323</span> +must, with whatever reluctance, be denied to her, lest +the imputation under which she labored of being accessory +to the murder of Darnley should bring a stain +upon her own reputation; but that, whenever she +should clear herself of this, she should receive assistance +commensurate with her distress, and a reception +suitable to her dignity. By this pretence was Mary +entangled in a treacherous snare. Confiding in her +professions of friendship, she agreed to submit her +cause to Elizabeth, and to produce to her such proofs +as would convince her of her innocence, and of the +malice and falsehood of her enemies. Elizabeth had +now accomplished her end: she became the umpire +between Mary and her rebellious subjects, and had it +wholly in her power to protract and to involve the +proceedings in endless mazes; having, at the same time, +a pretext for keeping Mary at a distance from her court, +and for withholding from her all assistance.</p> +<p>To save appearances, a conference was appointed to +be held at York, at which, in presence of her representatives, +the several parties should make known their +causes of complaint. Murray appeared in person, and +accused Mary of participating in the murder of her +husband, and of other monstrous crimes; of all which +were offered as testimony certain letters purporting to +have been written by her to Bothwell. By her command, +her commissioners repelled the accusation with +horror, and pronounced the letters to be base forgeries, +and, at the same time, accused Murray and his confederates +of treason and scandal against their sovereign. +As was predetermined, the conference ended without +coming to any decision; and, as Murray was permitted +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_324' name='page_324'></a>324</span> +to return to Scotland, Mary required that she should be +set at liberty. In answer, it was intimated that if she +would confirm the forced abdication, and would renounce +her throne and country, she should be permitted +to reside in quiet and privacy in England. “The +eyes of Europe,” replied Mary, “are upon me; and, +were I thus tamely to yield to my adversaries, I should +be pronouncing my own condemnation. A thousand +times rather would I submit to death than inflict this +stain upon my honor. The last words I speak shall +be those of the queen of Scotland.” Refusing her +liberty upon these disgraceful terms, she remained a +captive.</p> +<p>Great fears were entertained of the power of Mary’s +charms over those who were suffered to approach her. +“If I might give advice,” writes one of Elizabeth’s +statesmen, when on a visit to her, “there should +very few subjects of this land have access to a conference +with this lady; for, besides that she is a +goodly personage,—and yet, in truth, not comparable +to our sovereign,—she hath withal an alluring +grace, a pretty Scotch speech, and a searching wit, +clouded with mildness.” The advice contained in this +letter was too acceptable not to be followed, and every +succeeding year found Mary reduced in society, in +comforts, and health. The latter, which had heretofore +caused her no anxiety, gradually gave way before +want of exercise and the dampness of the prisons in +which she was confined; and she came to suffer from +constant pain in her side, rheumatism, and weakness +of limbs—a state of suffering and disease which was +aggravated by the penuriousness of Elizabeth, which +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_325' name='page_325'></a>325</span> +would not permit to her even the accommodation +which that comparatively rude age afforded.</p> +<p>Her principal occupation was needle-work, and her +amusement reading and composition; she retained her +early love of literature, and it was now, next to her +religious feelings and hopes, her best resource. The +unvarying mildness and saint-like patience with which +Mary endured her captivity are the more remarkable, +if we remember that she was disinclined to sedentary +amusements, and by nature and habit fond of walking, +riding, gardening, and all exercises in the open air. +Her gentleness, therefore, under a restraint so heart-wearing, +is a proof of singular sweetness of temper +and strength of mind, if not of a clear and tranquil +conscience.</p> +<p>But, if the situation of Mary was melancholy, that +of her persecutor was not to be envied. Plot succeeded +plot, having for ostensible object the relief of +Mary. In fact, while she existed, Elizabeth was +stretched on the rack of fear and suspicion. In vain +did she seek to implicate Mary in these traitorous +projects; Mary freely acknowledged that she should +seize with eagerness any means of deliverance from +a hateful captivity; but, as to being privy to any plot +against the life or throne of the queen, this she constantly +and strenuously denied. At last, a subservient +Parliament were induced to pass a most infamous law, +which declared that not only the conspirators themselves, +but those in whose cause they conspired, however +innocent, or ignorant of their purpose, should +equally suffer the penalties of treason.</p> +<p>Occasion was soon made for bringing Mary to trial +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_326' name='page_326'></a>326</span> +under this law. The arrival of the commissioners +charged with the duty was a surprise to her; a public +trial was an indignity wholly unexpected, and she +protested against it. “I came,” said she, “into the +kingdom an independent sovereign, to ask the queen’s +assistance, not to subject myself to her authority. +Nor is my spirit so broken by past misfortunes, or +intimidated by present dangers, as to stoop to any thing +unbecoming the dignity of a crowned head, or that +will disgrace the ancestors from whom I am descended, +and the son to whom I shall leave the +throne. If I must be tried, princes only can be my +peers. Since my arrival in this country, I have been +uniformly confined as a prisoner. Its laws never afforded +me any protection. Let them not be perverted, +in order to take away my life.” But a second time +was she entrapped by the plausible argument that, by +avoiding a trial, she was an enemy to her own reputation. +Solicitous for the vindication of her honor, +she submitted to an inquiry, the result of which had +been predetermined; for those who had made the law +for an express purpose, would not scruple to apply +it. Notwithstanding a defence which was characterized +by the same vigor and dignity of mind, and +the acuteness of intellect which she had displayed +when in possession of youth, health, and power, a +sentence universally acknowledged to be unjust and +iniquitous was pronounced against her.</p> +<p>The news of this outrage excited horror and indignation +throughout Europe, and at length roused James +to attempt something in behalf of his mother. He +sent ambassadors to the various sovereigns of Europe, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_327' name='page_327'></a>327</span> +calling upon them to join with him in this the common +cause of princes. He wrote to Elizabeth, threatening +her with the vengeance which, as a sovereign and as +a son, he was bound in honor and in duty to inflict. +But Elizabeth was deaf to the reproaches and menaces +by which she was from all sides assailed. It is +true that, when a servile Parliament besought her to +have the sentence executed, she, with an affectation +of clemency, besought them to spare her the pain +of imbruing her hands in the blood of a queen and +near kinswoman, and to consider if the public safety +might not otherwise be provided for. But her real +meaning was well understood, and the lords and commons +repeated the request, without fear of offending +by their importunity.</p> +<p>By her own command, Davison, the secretary, +brought to her the death-warrant, and she subscribed +it with no relenting symptoms. She was still, however, +solicitous to preserve appearances, and let fall +intimations which might stimulate some of her officers +to extricate her from her dilemma. It was an honor +to the nation that no assassin could be found. Paulet, +though harsh in temper, and brutal, at times, in the +discharge of what he conceived to be his duty, rejected +with disdain a proposal of this nature; declaring +that, though the queen might dispose of his +life at her pleasure, he would not stain his honor, or +cover his memory with infamy. Upon which Elizabeth +called him a <i>dainty</i> and <i>precise</i> fellow, who +promised much, but performed nothing.</p> +<p>At length the privy council determined to take upon +themselves the responsibility of sending off the warrant +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_328' name='page_328'></a>328</span> +for the execution. On the 7th of February, 1587, the +Earls of Kent and Shrewsbury, being admitted to Mary’s +presence, informed her that their mistress, Elizabeth, +being overcome by the importunity of her subjects, had +given orders for her execution. She listened unmoved +to the reading of the warrant, and on its conclusion +she bowed her head, and, making the sign of the cross, +thanked her gracious God that this welcome news had +at last come; declaring how happy she should be to +leave a world where she could be of no use, and had +suffered such continued affliction. After expressing +her delight and her gratitude to God for the privilege +of sealing, by her death, the testimony she had so +often borne in behalf of her church, she went on to +speak of her past suffering. Born a queen, the +daughter of a king, the cousin of the queen of England, +the granddaughter of Henry VII., once queen +of France, and now queen-dowager of that kingdom,—and +yet what had all this availed her? She then +spoke of her love for England; of the desire she had +ever felt to obtain the friendship of its queen; of the +ignominy and injustice with which she had, notwithstanding, +been treated; imprisoned contrary to all +faith and treaties; kept a captive for nineteen years; +and “at last,” said she, laying her hand on the New +Testament, “condemned by a tribunal which had no +power over me, for a crime of which I here solemnly +declare I am innocent. I have neither invented, nor +consented to, nor pursued, any conspiracy for the +death of the queen of England.” The Earl of Kent +here hastily interrupted her, declaring that the Scriptures +on which she had sworn were false, and the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_329' name='page_329'></a>329</span> +Roman Catholic version. “It is the translation which +I believe,” answered Mary. “Does your lordship +think my oath would be better, if I swore on your +translation, which I disbelieve?” She then requested +to be allowed the services of her chaplain, whom she +had not for some time been permitted to see. But +the request was denied; the Earl of Kent, however, +an intolerant bigot, after a long theological discourse, +offered her the services of his own Protestant chaplain. +Mary bore this stroke of cruelty with meekness, but +declined the proffered services. She inquired at +what time she was to die. “To-morrow, at eight,” +was the reply; and the earls then left the room. On +their departure, Mary called her women, and bade +them hasten supper, that she might have time to +arrange her affairs. “Come, come, Jane Kennedy,” +said she, “cease your weeping, and be busy. Did I +not warn you, my children, that it would come to +this? and now, blessed be God, it has come, and fear +and sorrow are at an end. Weep not, but rejoice +rather that your poor mistress is so near the end of +her troubles. Dry your tears, then, and let us pray +together.” Some time was spent in her devotions; +she then supped with cheerfulness. She next distributed +various articles from her wardrobe among her +attendants, with a kind expression for each. She then +wrote her last will, which is still extant, and consists +of four pages, closely written, in a neat, firm hand. +Not one person was forgotten who had any claims on +her gratitude or her remembrance. She also wrote +several letters; but these, it is said, are blotted with her +tears. It was her custom to have her women read to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_330' name='page_330'></a>330</span> +her, at night, a portion of the “Lives of the Saints;” +and this last night she would not omit it, but made +Jane Kennedy select a portion. She chose the life +entitled the “Good Thief,” which treats of that beautiful +and affecting example of dying faith and divine +compassion. “Alas!” said Mary, “he was indeed a +very great sinner, but not so great as I am. May my +Savior, in memory of His passion, have mercy on me, +as he had on him!”</p> +<p>At the hour appointed, the sheriff entered her room, +and proceeding to the altar, where the queen was +kneeling, informed her that all was ready. She rose, +and saying simply, “Let us go,” proceeded towards +the door, on reaching which, her attendants were informed +that they were not to accompany her. A +scene of the most distressing character now took place; +but they were at last torn from her, and locked up +in the apartment. Mary proceeded alone down the +great staircase, at the foot of which she was received +by the two earls, who were struck with the perfect +tranquillity and unaffected grace with which she met +them. She was dressed in black satin, matronly but +richly, and with more studied care than she was commonly +accustomed to bestow. At the bottom of the +staircase she was also met by her old servant, Sir Andrew +Melvil, waiting to take his last farewell. Flinging +himself on his knees, he bitterly lamented it should +have fallen to him to carry this heart-rending news to +Scotland. “Weep not,” said she, “but rather rejoice, +my good Melvil. Carry this news with thee, that I +die firm in my religion, true to Scotland, true to +France. May God, who can alone judge the thoughts +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_331' name='page_331'></a>331</span> +and actions of men, forgive those who have thirsted +for my blood. Remember me to my son; tell him I +have done nothing that may prejudice his kingdom.” +She then earnestly entreated that her women might be +permitted to be with her at her death; but the Earl of +Kent refused it, saying that they might be guilty of +something scandalous and superstitious, even to dipping +their handkerchiefs in her blood. But Mary +plighted her word they should not offend in any wise: +“Surely, surely you will not deny me this last little +request; my poor girls wish only to see me die.” As +she said this, a few tears were observed to fall, for the +first time; and, after some consultation, she was permitted +to have two ladies and four gentlemen beside +her. Followed by these, she entered the great hall, +and seated herself on the raised platform, prepared for +a scaffold, with the same easy grace and dignity with +which she would have occupied her throne. The +death-warrant was then read; but those who were +near could see, by the sweet and absent expression +of her countenance, that her thoughts were afar off.</p> +<p>The Earl of Kent next solicited her to join with him +and the Protestant chaplain in their devotions. But +she declined, and, kneeling apart, repeated a part of +the penitential Psalms, and afterwards continued her +prayers aloud in English. By this time, the chaplain +had concluded; there was a deep silence, so that every +word was heard. It was impossible for any one to +behold her at this moment without being deeply affected—on +her knees, her hands clasped and raised +to heaven, an expression of adoration and divine serenity +lighting up her features, and upon her lips the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_332' name='page_332'></a>332</span> +words of forgiveness to her persecutors. Having finished, +she cheerfully suffered herself to be undressed +by her women, gently admonishing them not to distress +her by their lamentations; putting her finger on +her lips, and bidding them remember that she had +promised for them. On seeing the executioner approach +to offer his assistance, she smiled, and playfully +said, “that she had neither been used to such grooms +of the chamber, nor to undress before so many people.” +When all was ready, she kissed her women, and, +giving them her last blessing, she knelt down and +groped her way to the block,—for her eyes were +bound,—and laid her neck upon it without the slightest +mark of trembling or hesitation. Her last words +were, “Into thy hands I commend my spirit, for thou +hast redeemed me, O Lord God of truth.” At two +strokes, her head was severed from her body, and the +executioner, holding it up, called aloud, “God save +the queen!” “So let all Queen Elizabeth’s enemies +perish!” was the prayer of the chaplain; but the +spectators were dissolved in tears, and one deep voice +alone answered, “Amen!” It came from the Earl +of Kent. On removing the body, and the clothes and +mantle which lay beside it, Mary’s favorite little dog, +which had followed its mistress unperceived, was found +nestling under them. No entreaty could prevail on +it to quit the spot; and it remained lying beside the +corpse, and stained in the blood, till forcibly carried +away by the attendants.</p> +<p>Elizabeth affected to receive the news of the death +of her rival with surprise and grief; she even carried +her artifice to so barbarous a length, as to render Davison, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_333' name='page_333'></a>333</span> +the secretary, and the innocent instrument of +her cruelty and dissimulation, the victim of her perfidy. +Under pretence that he had orders not to let the +warrant go out of his office, he was degraded, fined, +imprisoned, and utterly ruined. By this sacrifice, she +hoped to appease the king of Scots, whom the death +of his mother had filled with grief and resentment, +which yielded, however, at length, to the necessities +of his situation. Having affected to admit the excuses +of Elizabeth, and to be satisfied with the sacrifice of +Davison, he stifled his indignation, and continued the +semblance of amity with the English court. Thus the +death and sufferings of Mary remained unavenged, +while Elizabeth was suffered to reap the advantages +of her malignity.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_335' name='page_335'></a>335</span> +<a name='ELIZABETH_QUEEN_OF_ENGLAND' id='ELIZABETH_QUEEN_OF_ENGLAND'></a> +<h2>ELIZABETH, QUEEN OF ENGLAND.</h2> +</div> +<p>This extraordinary woman, the daughter of Henry VIII. and +Anne Boleyn, was born in 1533. Being educated a Protestant, +and having adopted the principles of the reformation, she was +looked upon with suspicion and treated with harshness during +the reign of her sister Mary. She devoted herself, however, +to study, and is thus described at this period: “She was of +admirable beauty, and well deserving a crown; of a modest +gravity, excellent wit, royal soul, happy memory, and indefatigably +given to the study of learning, insomuch as, before she +was seventeen years of age, she understood well the Latin, +French, and Italian tongues, and had an indifferent knowledge +of the Greek. Neither did she neglect music, so far as it became +a princess, being able to sing sweetly, and play handsomely +on the lute.”</p> +<p>On the death of Mary, in 1558, she was immediately proclaimed +queen, and was received in the metropolis with the +loudest acclamations. She consigned to oblivion all the affronts +she had received during the late reign, and prudently +assumed the gracious demeanor of the common sovereign of +all her subjects. Philip of Spain soon made her proposals of +marriage; but she knew the aversion borne him by the nation +too well to think of accepting him.</p> +<div class='figcenter'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_11' id='linki_11'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/illo-334.png' alt='' title='' width='392' height='550' /> +<br /> +<p class='caption'> +QUEEN ELIZABETH ON A TOUR THROUGH HER REALM.<br /> +</p> +</div> +<p>She now proceeded to the arduous task of settling the religion +of the state. In comparison with the harsh and cruel measures +of her predecessor, her conduct was marked with moderation. +Yet the Catholics were made to feel the severest restraints +upon their liberty of thought and action. It was not +long before she began that interference in the affairs of Scotland +which produced the most singular and painful events in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_336' name='page_336'></a>336</span> +her reign. These we have sufficiently detailed in the life of +the unhappy Queen Mary.</p> +<p>The political history of Elizabeth would fill a volume. She +soon acquired great reputation for vigor and sagacity, and was +regarded as the head of the Protestant party in Europe. She +took the part of the revolted provinces of Holland against +Spain in 1585, and three years after, when threatened by what +was called the “Invincible Armada,” she displayed a degree +of energy and personal courage which would have done credit +to a sovereign of the other sex. She mingled largely in the +political affairs of the continent, and, in 1601, held a conference +with the celebrated Sully, with a view to the adjustment +of a new balance of European power. While thus directing +her attention to general politics, she did not neglect the internal +affairs of her kingdom. These were indeed conducted with +great sagacity and wisdom, and such was the state of prosperity +among the people, that the “good old days of Queen Bess” +is still a proverb in England. Although thus attentive to the +concerns of government, Elizabeth devoted much time and +expense to dress, of which she was excessively fond; and she +even affected a love of literature and learning. The age in +which she lived is remarkable for the great men it produced—Shakspere, +Bacon, Sidney, Hooker, and Raleigh, whose +works contributed so much to give vigor, strength, and elegance, +to the English tongue. Literature owes, however, little +to her; she was much more fond of displaying her own acquirements +than encouraging the learned. Whatever countenance +Shakspere received from royalty, he owed to his friends +Essex and Southampton; and Spenser, who has sung the praises +of the queen in “strains divine,” died in neglect and poverty.</p> +<p>Elizabeth was fond of multiplying pictures of herself, and so +far encouraged painting. One of her most characteristic ordinances +is a proclamation forbidding all manner of persons +from drawing, painting, graving, &c., her majesty’s person and +visage, till some perfect pattern should be prepared by a skilful +limner, “for the consolation of her majesty’s loving subjects, +who were grieved, and took great offence, at the errors +and deformities committed by sundry persons in this respect.” +She was so little capable of judging of works of art, that she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_337' name='page_337'></a>337</span> +would not allow a painter to put any shadows upon the face, “because,” +as she said, “shade is an accident, and not in nature.”</p> +<p>During her whole reign, Elizabeth was subjected to the influence +of favorites. The most celebrated of these are the +Earls of Leicester and of Essex. The first was a most weak +and worthless man, contemned and feared by the nobles, and +odious to the people; yet, in spite of all his vices and incapacity, +he maintained his influence for nearly thirty years. +Her partiality for Essex seems to have been the dotage of a +vain old woman. She could not appreciate his fine qualities; +she would not make allowance for his faults; and he was too +frank and spirited to cringe at her footstool. “I owe her +majesty,” said he upon an occasion when she had repaid +some want of obsequiousness by a blow, “the duty of an earl, +but I will never serve her as a villain and a slave!” Essex +was too rash and unsuspecting to be a match for the cool and +wily ministers, whose interest it was to have him out of their +way, not only as the favorite of the present sovereign, but as +likely to be all powerful with her successor; and partly by +their arts, and partly by his own fiery temper, he was brought +to the block in the thirty-fourth year of his age. In the exasperation +of offended power and jealous self-will, the queen +signed the warrant for his execution, and pined away the +remainder of her life in unavailing remorse. This grief, with +which she long struggled in secret, at length broke forth +superior to control. The occasion was as follows:—</p> +<p>The Countess of Nottingham, a near relation, but no friend, +of Essex, being on her death-bed, entreated to see the queen, +declaring that she had something to confess to her before she +could die in peace. On her majesty’s arrival, the countess +produced a ring, which she said the Earl of Essex had sent to +her, after his condemnation, with an earnest request that she +would deliver it to the queen, as a token by which he implored +her mercy; but that, in obedience to her husband, she withheld +it. Elizabeth at once recognized the ring as one which +she had herself presented to her favorite, with the tender +promise, that of whatsoever crimes his enemies might have +accused him, or whatever offences he might actually have +committed against her, on his returning to her that pledge, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_338' name='page_338'></a>338</span> +she would either pardon him, or admit him, at least, to justify +himself in her presence. It was in a moment of pique at his +supposed pride and obstinacy in refusing to ask her forgiveness, +that she had signed the death-warrant. She now learned +that he had been the victim, and herself the dupe, of the most +barbarous treachery. Transported with grief and rage, she +shook the dying countess in her bed; and, vehemently exclaiming, +“God may forgive, but I never will,” she flung herself +out of the chamber.</p> +<p>Returning to the palace, she surrendered herself without +resistance to the despair which had seized her heart on this +fatal disclosure. She refused medicine, and almost the means +of sustenance; days and nights she sat upon the floor, sleepless, +her eyes fixed, and her finger pressed upon her mouth, +the silence only broken by her sighs, groans, and ejaculations +of anguish. Her sufferings were at length relieved by her +death, on the 24th of March, 1603. Her last words were +strongly characteristic. During her whole life, she had shown +a perverse dread of naming her successor; but it was necessary +that the question should be put to her in her last moments. +She replied, “My seat has been the seat of kings, and I will +have no rascal to succeed me.” Cecil, whom the weakness +of the dying lioness rendered bold, inquired what she meant +by the words, “that <i>no rascal</i> should succeed her;” to which +she answered, “I will have a king to succeed me, and who +should that be but the king of Scots?”</p> +<p>The personal character of Elizabeth presents little that +excites our sympathy or respect. She was vain, jealous, and +selfish, in the extreme. She was capable of the deepest hypocrisy, +and often practised it. She sacrificed every thing to her +despotic love of sway, her pride, and her vanity, except the +interests of her kingdom. These she guarded with care, and, +though a tyrannical and selfish monarch, she must be ranked +as among the best sovereigns of her time.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_339' name='page_339'></a>339</span> +<a name='ISABELLA_OF_SPAIN' id='ISABELLA_OF_SPAIN'></a> +<h2>ISABELLA OF SPAIN.</h2> +</div> +<p>Isabella, queen of Castile, was born at Madrigal, in that +kingdom, on the 22d of April, 1451. Her father, John II., after +an inglorious reign of forty-eight years, died in 1454, lamenting +that he had not been born the son of a mechanic, instead +of king of Castile. Isabella had but a slender prospect of +obtaining the crown during the early part of her life. She +had two brothers, Henry and Alfonso, the former of whom +acceded to the throne at the death of John. Isabella retired, +with her mother, to the little town of Arevalo, where she +lived many years in obscurity. Her mother, who appears to +have been a woman of a strong, religious turn of mind, bestowed +great care on her education, and inculcated the strictest +lessons of piety upon her daughter, which did not fail to exercise +an important influence upon her future career. On the +birth of a daughter to her brother, Isabella was removed from +her retirement to the royal palace, by Henry, who, being disliked +by his subjects, feared the formation of a party adverse +to his interests. At the royal court, surrounded by all the +pleasures and seductions most dazzling to youth, she did not +forget the early lessons imbibed in her seclusion, and the +blameless purity of her conduct shone with additional lustre +amid the scenes of levity and licentiousness by which she was +surrounded.</p> +<p>Before this event, she had been solicited in marriage by +various suitors, among whom was Ferdinand of Arragon, who +afterward became her husband. His first application, however, +was unsuccessful. She was next betrothed to his elder +brother Carlos, while yet a mere child. That prince dying +before the marriage could be completed, she was promised by +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_340' name='page_340'></a>340</span> +her brother to Alfonso, king of Portugal. Isabella was but +thirteen at this time, and the disparity of their ages was such +that neither threats nor entreaties could induce her to consent +to the union. The selfish and unprincipled Henry, who +looked upon his sister only as an object of trade, next made +an attempt to dispose of her for the purpose of gaining over a +powerful family in Castile, which gave him great trouble by +their opposition. He offered her in marriage to Don Pedro +Giron, grand master of the order of Calatrava. This man +was well known to be a most detestable character. He was +a fierce and turbulent leader of a faction, and his private life +was stained with almost every vice. Such a person, vastly +inferior in birth, was selected as the husband of the young +and virtuous Isabella. The pope granted a dispensation from +the vow of celibacy, which the grand master, as the companion +of a religions order, had been obliged to utter, and +splendid preparations were immediately made for the nuptials.</p> +<p>Isabella was at this time in her sixteenth year. When she +understood in what manner she was now to be sacrificed to +the selfish policy of her brother, and that, in case she proved +reluctant, compulsory measures were to be adopted, she +was filled with the liveliest grief and indignation. She confined +herself in her apartment, abstaining from all food and +sleep for a day and a night, imploring Heaven, in the most +piteous manner, to save her from this dishonor, even at the +cost of her life. As she was bewailing her hard fate to her +faithful friend, Beatriz de Bobadilla, that high-spirited lady +exclaimed, “God will not permit it; neither will I;” and, +drawing forth a dagger from her bosom, she solemnly vowed +to plunge it into the heart of the master of Calatrava as soon +as he appeared. The affair, happily, did not come to so +tragical a catastrophe. Her dreaded suitor was suddenly carried +off by sickness in the midst of his magnificent preparations.</p> +<p>Troubles now began to thicken around the weak and vicious +Henry. His subjects, disgusted with his administration, rose +in arms against him. Castile was afflicted with all the horrors +of anarchy and civil war. Isabella retired for shelter to a monastery +at Avila. The confederated nobles, who were in arms +against the king, offered her the crown of Castile, which she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_341' name='page_341'></a>341</span> +had the prudence and magnanimity to refuse. This led to a +negotiation with the king, and the civil war was closed by a +treaty between the parties, in which it was stipulated that +Isabella should be immediately recognized heir to the crown +of Castile and Leon. Her brother Alfonso had recently died, +and Joanna, the daughter of Henry, was believed by the people +to be a supposititious offspring. Isabella’s prospects of a throne, +having now assumed a certain character, drew the attention of +neighboring princes, who contended with each other for the +honor of her hand. She gave the preference to Ferdinand of +Arragon, and they were married in 1469. On the death of +Henry, in 1474, they were conjointly declared king and queen +of Castile. A party, however, existed in favor of Joanna, and +Alfonso IV., king of Portugal, entered Castile at the head of +an army, publicly espoused her, and assumed the regal title. +His defeat at the battle of Toro, in 1475, was fatal to his pretensions, +and, by a peace concluded in 1479, the right of Isabella +and her husband was fully acknowledged. In that year +Ferdinand succeeded to the crown of Arragon; and from that +time the kingdoms of Castile and Arragon were inseparably +united, comprising the whole of Spain not possessed by the +Moors.</p> +<p>Isabella, who was high spirited and jealous of her authority, +governed Castile as the real sovereign, and her husband had +the policy to concur, with apparent cordiality, in her measures. +In 1481, hostilities were commenced against the Moors of +Grenada; and, after a war of ten years, that kingdom was +subdued by the arms of Ferdinand and Isabella. By this +event the whole of Spain was restored to the Christian dominion; +and, in honor of an achievement so auspicious, the +two sovereigns received the distinguishing title of “the Catholic.” +In this war Isabella engaged with all the ardor of +religions zeal; and though Ferdinand joined in her plans with +perfect harmony, yet he seems to have acted in a secondary +capacity. Soon after this, the Jews were expelled from +Spain—an act of bigotry and injustice certainly countenanced +by Isabella, but owing chiefly to the frantic religious zeal of +the inquisitor-general, Torquemada, her confessor, who, while +the king and queen were deliberating on the acceptance of an +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_342' name='page_342'></a>342</span> +offer of thirty thousand ducats made by the Jews to avert the +threatened edict of expulsion, suddenly burst into their presence, +and, drawing forth a crucifix from beneath his mantle, +held it up, exclaiming, “Judas Iscariot sold his Master for +thirty pieces of silver. Your highnesses would sell him +anew for thirty thousand. Here he is; take him, and barter +him away.” So saying, he threw the crucifix on the table, +and left the apartment. This bold stroke of priestly impudence +was completely successful. The sovereigns were overawed, +and the edict was signed.</p> +<p>A deed more glorious to the memory of Isabella was the +generous patronage she bestowed upon Columbus, and which +was the sole means that enabled that heroic adventurer to +accomplish his great undertaking of the discovery of the western +world. After he had failed in all his attempts in other +quarters, he at length found a friend in the queen, who, rejecting +the advice of her narrow-minded and timid counsellors, +exclaimed, “I will assume the undertaking for my own +crown of Castile, and am ready to pawn my jewels to defray +the expenses of it, if the funds in the treasury shall be found +inadequate.” Under her auspices Columbus achieved his +great discovery; and Isabella may be called the mother of the +western world. She continued a constant friend and protector +of Columbus during her life; and her death proved an +overwhelming disaster to him.</p> +<p>During the war against the Moors, Isabella shared in most +of the campaigns, animating her husband and generals by her +courage and undaunted perseverance; providing for the support +of the armies by her forethought and economy; comforting +them under their reverses by her sweet and gracious +speeches, and pious confidence in Heaven; and, by her active +humanity and her benevolent sympathy, extended to friend +and foe, softening, as far as possible, the miseries of war. +She was the first who appointed regular military surgeons to +attend the movements of the army, and be at hand on the +field of battle. These surgeons were paid out of her own +revenues; and she also provided six spacious tents, furnished +with beds and all things requisite for the sick and wounded, +which were called the “Queen’s Hospital.” Thus to the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_343' name='page_343'></a>343</span> +compassionate heart of a woman, directed by energy and judgment, +the civilized world was first indebted for an expedient +which has since saved so many lives, and accomplished so +much towards alleviating the frightful evils of war.</p> +<p>Isabella’s confessor, the Dominican Torquemada, had, from +the beginning, earnestly labored to infuse into her young mind, +to which his situation gave him such ready access, the same +spirit of fanaticism that glowed in his own. Fortunately, this +was in a great degree counteracted by her sound understanding +and natural kindness of heart. But he is said to have +extorted a promise that, “should she ever come to the throne, +she would devote herself to the extirpation of heresy, for the +glory of God and the extension of the Catholic faith.” The +fulfilment of this promise being afterwards insisted on, led to +the establishment of the Inquisition in her dominions, the darkest +spot that exists upon her character. It was not till she had +endured the repeated importunities of the clergy, particularly +of those revered persons in whom she most confided, that she +consented to this measure.</p> +<p>It was under the auspices of Isabella that Cardinal Ximenes +introduced his famous reforms into the religious orders of +Spain, and began the work of correcting the horrible abuses +which had crept into the government of the convents. This +attempt was strongly resisted, and occasioned a general outcry +of the clergy. The general of the Franciscans waited on the +queen, and remonstrated in high terms against this interference +with the privileges of his order; at the same time reflecting +severely on Cardinal Ximenes, and his influence over her +mind. Isabella listened to this turbulent friar with some impatience; +but, little accustomed to be dictated to in this style, +she at length rose from her seat, and desired him to remember +who he was, and to whom he spoke. “Madam,” replied the +monk, undauntedly, “I remember that I am but ashes and +dust, and that I speak to Queen Isabella, who is but dust and +ashes, like myself.” She immediately turned from him with a +look of cool disdain. The next day he was ordered to quit +the kingdom; and Ximenes, supported by the royal power, +pursued his system of reformation.</p> +<p>Isabella was a patron of literature. The first printing press +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_344' name='page_344'></a>344</span> +set up in Spain was established at Burgos under her auspices; +and all printed books, and foreign and classical works, were +imported free of duty. Through her zeal and patronage, the +University of Salamanca rose to that eminence which it assumed +among the learned institutions of that period, and rivalled +those of Pisa and Padua. She prepared the way for that golden +age of Spanish literature which immediately succeeded her. +Her own love of study is evinced by the fact, that, after she +was firmly seated on the throne, she applied herself to the task +of remedying the defects of her early education, by a diligent +application to books, amid all the cares of state. She mastered +the Latin language in less than a year’s study.</p> +<p>Notwithstanding that Isabella adored her husband, she would +never suffer him to interfere with her authority as an independent +sovereign, and she was as jealous of her prerogative as +Elizabeth of England; except, indeed, where priestly intimidation +was applied. Her extreme deference for the ecclesiastics +around her was a misfortune for her people, but, consistently +with the best points in her character, it could not +have been otherwise. She was humane, just, and reasonable +in all matters not influenced by the religious bigotry of the age. +She declared the American Indians free, and ordered the instant +return of several cargoes of them which had been sent to +Spain for slaves.</p> +<p>After a successful and glorious reign of thirty years, Isabella +the Catholic died, on the 26th of November, 1504, in the fifty-fourth +year of her age. Her last years were clouded with the +deepest melancholy. The insanity and misfortunes of her +daughter Joanna, and the domestic afflictions of her daughter +Catherine of Arragon, lacerated her heart with sorrow. She +pined away in her lonely grandeur, till the deep and long-protracted +melancholy invaded her constitution, and settled into a +rapid and fatal decline.</p> +<p>The chief traits of Isabella’s character may be gathered from +the preceding narrative, to which we subjoin the parallel drawn +between her and Elizabeth of England, by Mr. Prescott, whose +“History” so ably and satisfactorily unfolds the events of +her reign.</p> +<p>“It is in these more amiable qualities of her sex, that Isabella’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_345' name='page_345'></a>345</span> +superiority becomes most apparent over her illustrious +namesake, Elizabeth of England, whose history presents some +features parallel to her own. Both were disciplined in early +life by the teachings of that stern nurse of wisdom, adversity. +Both were made to experience the deepest humiliation at the +hands of their nearest relative, who should have cherished and +protected them. Both succeeded in establishing themselves on +the throne, after the most precarious vicissitudes. Each conducted +her kingdom, through a long and triumphant reign, to a +height of glory which it never before reached. Both lived to +see the vanity of all earthly grandeur, and to fall the victims +of an inconsolable melancholy; and both left behind an illustrious +name, unrivalled in the annals of their country.</p> +<p>“But with these few circumstances of their history, the resemblance +ceases. Their characters afford scarcely a point of +contact. Elizabeth, inheriting a large share of the bold and +bluff King Harry’s temperament, was haughty, arrogant, +coarse, and irascible, while with these fiercer qualities she +mingled deep dissimulation and strange irresolution. Isabella, +on the other hand, tempered the dignity of royal station with +the most bland and courteous manners. Once resolved, she +was constant in her purposes; and her conduct in public +and private life was characterized by candor and integrity. +Both may be said to have shown that magnanimity which is +implied by the accomplishment of great objects in the face of +great obstacles. But Elizabeth was desperately selfish; she +was incapable of forgiving, not merely a real injury, but the +slightest affront to her vanity; and she was merciless in exacting +retribution. Isabella, on the other hand, lived only for +others; was ready at all times to sacrifice self to considerations +of public duty; and, far from personal resentment, showed the +greatest condescension and kindness to those who had most +sensibly injured her; while her benevolent heart sought every +means to mitigate the authorized severities of the law, even +towards the guilty.</p> +<p>“Both possessed rare fortitude. Isabella, indeed, was placed +in situations which demanded more frequent and higher displays +of it than her rival; but no one will doubt a full measure +of this quality in the daughter of Henry VIII. Elizabeth +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_346' name='page_346'></a>346</span> +was better educated, and every way more highly accomplished, +than Isabella. But the latter knew enough to maintain +her station with dignity, and she encouraged learning by a +munificent patronage. The masculine powers and passions of +Elizabeth seemed to divorce her, in a great measure, from the +peculiar attributes of her sex; at least from those which constitute +its peculiar charm; for she had abundance of foibles; +a coquetry and a love of admiration which age could not +chill; a levity most careless, if not criminal; and a fondness +for dress and tawdry magnificence of ornament which was +ridiculous or disgusting, according to the different periods of +life in which it was indulged. Isabella, on the other hand, +distinguished through life for decorum of manners, and purity +beyond the breath of calumny, was content with the legitimate +affection which she could inspire within the range of her domestic +circle. Far from a frivolous affectation of ornament or +dress, she was most simple in her own attire, and seemed to +set no value on her jewels, but as they could serve the necessities +of the state; when they could be no longer useful in this +way, she gave them away to her friends.</p> +<p>“Both were uncommonly sagacious in the selection of their +ministers, though Elizabeth was drawn into some errors, in +this particular, by her levity, as was Isabella by her religious +feeling. It was this, combined with her excessive humility, +which led to the only grave errors in the administration of the +latter. Her rival fell into no such errors; and she was a +stranger to the amiable qualities which led to them. Her +conduct was certainly not controlled by religious principle; +and, though the bulwark of the Protestant faith, it might be +difficult to say whether she were at heart most a Protestant or +a Catholic. She viewed religion in its connection with the +state,—in other words, with herself; and she took measures +for enforcing conformity to her own views, not a whit less +despotic, and scarcely less sanguinary, than those countenanced +for conscience’ sake by her more bigoted rival.</p> +<p>“This feature of bigotry, which has thrown a shade over +Isabella’s otherwise beautiful character, might lead to a disparagement +of her intellectual power, compared with that of +the English queen. To estimate this aright, we must contemplate +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_347' name='page_347'></a>347</span> +the results of their respective reigns. Elizabeth +found all the materials of prosperity at hand, and availed +herself of them most ably to build up a solid fabric of national +grandeur. Isabella created these materials. She saw the +faculties of her people locked up in a death-like lethargy, and +she breathed into them the breath of life, for those great and +heroic enterprises which terminated in such glorious consequences +to the monarchy. It is when viewed from the depressed +position of her early days, that the achievements of +her reign seem scarcely leas than miraculous. The masculine +genius of the English queen stands out relieved beyond its +natural dimensions by its separation from the softer qualities +of her sex; while her rival, like some vast and symmetrical +edifice, loses, in appearance, somewhat of its actual grandeur, +from the perfect harmony of its proportions.</p> +<p>“The circumstances of their deaths, which were somewhat +similar, displayed the great dissimilarity of their characters. +Both pined amidst their royal state, a prey to incurable despondency, +rather than any marked bodily distemper. In +Elizabeth it sprang from wounded vanity; a sullen conviction +that she had outlived the admiration on which she had +so long fed, and even the solace of friendship, and the +attachment of her subjects. Nor did she seek consolation +where alone it was to be found, in that sad hour. Isabella, on +the other hand, sank under a too acute sensibility to the sufferings +of others. But, amidst the gloom which gathered +around her, she looked, with the eye of faith, to the brighter +prospects which unfolded of the future. And, when she +resigned her last breath, it was with the tears and universal +lamentations of her people. It is in this undying, unabated +attachment of the nation, indeed, that we see the most unequivocal +testimony to the virtues of Isabella. Her own subjects +extol her as ‘the most brilliant exemplar of every virtue,’ +and mourn over the day of her death as ‘the last of the prosperity +and happiness of the country;’ while those who had +nearer access to her person are unbounded in their admiration +of those amiable qualities whose full power is revealed only in +the unrestrained intimacies of domestic life.”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_349' name='page_349'></a>349</span> +<a name='JOAN_OF_ARC' id='JOAN_OF_ARC'></a> +<h2>JOAN OF ARC.</h2> +</div> +<p>This interesting and extraordinary girl, surnamed the +“Maid of Orleans,” from her heroic defence of that city, +was born about the year 1410, or ’11, in the little hamlet of +Domremy, near the Meuse, and about three leagues south of +Vaucouleurs, on the borders of Champagne. Her parents were +humble and honest peasants. The district was remarkable for +the devout simplicity of its inhabitants, as well as for those +romantic superstitions, which, in a rude age, are so often allied +with religion. It appears from the copious depositions of witnesses +from Domremy, examined at Joan’s trial, that she was +unremitting in her prayers and other religious exercises, and +was strongly imbued, at a very early age, with the prevailing +superstitions of her native place.</p> +<p>During that period of anarchy in France, when the supreme +power, which had fallen from the hands of a monarch deprived +of his reason, was contended for by the rival houses of Orleans +and Burgundy, the conflicting parties carried on war more by +murder and massacre than by regular battles. When an +army was wanted, both had recourse to the English; and +these conquering strangers made the unfortunate French feel +still deeper the horrors and ravages of war. At first, the +popular feeling was undecided; but when, on the death of +Charles VI., the crown fell to a young prince, who adopted +the Armagnac side, whilst the house of Burgundy had sworn +allegiance to a foreigner, Henry V., as king of France,—then, +indeed, the wishes and interests of all the French were in +favor of the Armagnacs, or the truly patriotic party. Remote +as was the village of Domremy, it was still interested in the +issue of the struggle. It was decidedly Armagnac, and was +strengthened in this sentiment by the rivalry of a neighboring +village, which adopted Burgundian colors.</p> +<div class='figcenter'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_12' id='linki_12'></a> +</div> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_350' name='page_350'></a>350</span> +<img src='images/illo-348.png' alt='' title='' width='312' height='550' /> +<br /> +<p class='caption'> +MAID OF ORLEANS. FROM A STATUE BY THE PRINCESS MARIA, OF FRANCE.<br /> +</p> +</div> +<p>Political and party interests were thus forced upon the +enthusiastic mind of Joan, and mingled with the pious legends +she had caught from the traditions of the virgin. A prophecy +was current that a virgin should rid France of her enemies, +and this prophecy seems to have been realized by its effect upon +the mind of Joan. The girl, by her own account, was about +thirteen, when a supernatural vision first appeared to her. +She describes it as a great light, accompanied by a voice, +telling her to be devout and good, and promising her the +protection of Heaven. Joan responded by a vow of eternal +chastity. From that time, the voice or voices continued to +haunt Joan, and to echo the enthusiastic and restless wishes +of her own heart. Her own simple account was, that “voices” +were her visitors and advisers, and that they prompted her to +quit her native place, take up arms, drive the foe before her, +and procure for the young king his coronation at Rheims. +These voices, however, had not influence enough to induce +her to set out upon the hazardous mission, until a band of +Burgundians, traversing and plundering the country, had +compelled Joan, together with her parents, to take refuge in a +neighboring town: when they returned to their village, after +the departure of the marauders, they found the church of +Domremy in ashes.</p> +<p>Such incidents were well calculated to arouse the indignation +and excite the enthusiasm of Joan. Her “voices” returned, +and incessantly directed her to set out for Orleans, but +to commence by making application to De Baudricourt, commander +at Vaucouleurs. Her parents, who were acquainted +with Joan’s martial propensities, attempted to force her into a +marriage; but she contrived to avoid this by paying a visit to +an uncle, in whose company she made her appearance before +the governor of Vaucouleurs, in May, 1428. De Baudricourt +at first refused to see her, and, upon granting an interview, +treated her pretensions with contempt. She then returned to +her uncle’s abode, where she continued to announce her +project, and to insist that the prophecy that “France, lost by a +woman,—Isabel of Bavaria,—should be saved by a virgin from +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_351' name='page_351'></a>351</span> +the frontiers of Lorraine,” alluded to her. She it was, she +asserted, who could save France, and not “either kings, or +dukes, nor yet the king of Scotland’s daughter”—an expression +which proves how well-informed she was as to the political +events and rumors of the day.</p> +<p>The fortunes of the dauphin Charles, at this time, had sunk +to the lowest ebb. Orleans, almost his last bulwark, was +besieged and closely pressed, and the loss of the battle of +“Herrings” seemed to take away all hope of saving the city +from the English. In this crisis, when all human support +seemed unavailing, Baudricourt no longer despised the supernatural +aid promised by the damsel of Domremy, and gave +permission to John of Metz and Bertram of Poulengy, two +gentlemen who had become converts to the truth of her divine +mission, to conduct Joan of Arc to the dauphin. They purchased +a horse for her, and, at her own desire, furnished her +with male habits, and other necessary equipments. Thus provided, +and accompanied by a respectable escort, Joan set out +for Vaucouleurs on the 13th February, 1429. Her progress +through regions attached to the Burgundian interest was +perilous, but she safely arrived at Fierbois, a place within five +or six leagues of Chinon, where the dauphin then held his +court. At Fierbois was a celebrated church dedicated to +St. Catherine; and here she spent her time in devotion, whilst +a messenger was despatched to the dauphin to announce her +approach. She was commanded to proceed, and reached +Chinon on the eleventh day after her departure from Vaucouleurs.</p> +<p>Charles, though he desired, still feared, the proffered aid. +After due consultation, however, it was concluded to grant +Joan’s request, and she received the rank of a military commander. +A suit of armor was made for her, and she sent to +Fierbois for a sword which, she said, would be found buried +in a certain spot in the church. It was found there, and conveyed +to her. The circumstance became afterwards one of the +alleged proofs of her sorcery or imposture. Her having passed +some time at Fierbois among the ecclesiastics of the place, must +have led, in some way or other, to her knowledge of the deposit. +Strong in the conviction of her mission, it was Joan’s desire to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_352' name='page_352'></a>352</span> +enter Orleans from the north, and through all the fortifications +of the English. Dunois, however, and the other leaders at +length overruled her, and induced her to abandon the little +company of pious companions which she had raised, and to +enter the beleaguered city by water, as the least perilous path. +She succeeded in carrying with her a convoy of provisions to +the besieged.</p> +<p>The entry of Joan of Arc into Orleans, at the end of April, +was itself a triumph. The hearts of the besieged were raised +from despair to a fanatical confidence of success; and the +English, who in every encounter had defeated the French, felt +their courage paralyzed by the coming of this simple girl. We +cannot give the details of the wonderful events that followed; +it must suffice to say, that the French were inspired with the +utmost courage, and after a series of great achievements, in +which the wonderful maiden took the lead, the siege was raised. +Thus, in one week after her arrival, the beleaguered city was relieved. +The most incredible of her promises was now fulfilled, +and she henceforth received the title of “Maid of Orleans.”</p> +<p>The French now carried all before them, under the guidance +of this maiden leader; and, in three months after she came to +the relief of Charles, he was crowned at Rheims, which had +surrendered to his arms. After a series of successes, she was +in one instance defeated, and finally was captured in a sally +against the enemy, May, 1430. She was now handed over to +the English partisans in France, brought to trial on the charge +of sorcery, and condemned to death. A pile of wood was prepared +in the market-place at Rouen, and, encircled by a body +of judges and ecclesiastics, she was then burned to death, +and her ashes thrown into the Seine. This took place in May, +1431. Thus perished one of the most pure, lovely, and exalted +beings that ever lived. In 1454, a revision of her sentence +took place, and a monument was erected to her honor, on the +spot where she had been inhumanly put to death.</p> +<hr class='fn' /> +<div class='footnote'><a name='Footnote_0001' id='Footnote_0001'></a><a href='#FNanchor_0001'><span class='label'>[1]</span></a> +<p>For summoning juries.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote'><a name='Footnote_0002' id='Footnote_0002'></a><a href='#FNanchor_0002'><span class='label'>[2]</span></a> +<p>President Adams survived his excellent lady several years, +and died on the 4th of July, 1826, aged ninety-one. On the +morning of the jubilee, he was roused by the ringing of bells +and the firing of cannon. Being asked if he knew what day +it was, he replied, “O yes, it is the glorious 4th of July—God +bless it! God bless you all!” Just before he expired, he +said, “Jefferson survives;” but at one o’clock that very day, +Jefferson rendered up his spirit to his Maker. The family +residence of John Adams at Quincy is the residence of his +distinguished son, John Quincy Adams.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote'><a name='Footnote_0003' id='Footnote_0003'></a><a href='#FNanchor_0003'><span class='label'>[3]</span></a> +<p>American Portrait Gallery.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote'><a name='Footnote_0004' id='Footnote_0004'></a><a href='#FNanchor_0004'><span class='label'>[4]</span></a> +<p>Now Louis Philippe, king of France. See <a href='#Footnote_0005'>note, p. 212</a>.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote'><a name='Footnote_0005' id='Footnote_0005'></a><a href='#FNanchor_0005'><span class='label'>[5]</span></a> +<p>The Duke of Chartres, afterwards Duke of Orleans, and +now Louis Philippe, king of the French, was born at Paris, +October 6th, 1773. His education has been described in the +preceding pages. In 1791, he served in the army, and subsequently +held various military stations, in which he displayed +great gallantry. In 1793, having expressed his horror at the +excesses of the revolution, a decree of arrest was levelled +against him. To escape this, he went to Switzerland, where +he met his sister and Madame de Genlis, as related. During +his wanderings over this country, he had to contend with +fatigue, poverty, and persecution. He travelled from place +to place, often alone, and destitute of money.</p> +<p>After the death of his father, Switzerland no longer became +a safe place for him, and he went to Hamburg, to escape to +America. But here his funds failed him, and he spent some +time in travelling in Norway and Lapland, proceeding even +to the North Cape. In September, 1796, he embarked for +America, where he was joined by his brothers, the Duke of +Montpensier and Count Beaujolais. They travelled through +the country, though often distressed for the want of money. +After various wanderings, they reached England. The Duke +of Montpensier died in 1807; and the Count Beaujolais soon +after. In November, 1809, Louis Philippe was married, at +Palermo, to the Princess Amelia, daughter of the king of +Sicily. On the restoration of the Bourbons in 1815, he returned +to Paris, and inherited a large part of the immense +wealth of his father. In 1830, he was elevated to the throne. +His family presents a model of union, good morals, and domestic +virtue, and he is himself one of the ablest of living +sovereigns. If his character is in any considerable degree +owing to his education,—and we cannot doubt that it is,—it +furnishes an imperishable monument to the honor of Madame +de Genlis.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote'><a name='Footnote_0006' id='Footnote_0006'></a><a href='#FNanchor_0006'><span class='label'>[6]</span></a> +<p>The position of Madame de Genlis does not permit her to +do justice to the character of the Duke of Orleans, which is +one of the most infamous in history. He was born in 1747, +and was descended from the Duke of Orleans, only brother of +Louis XIV. In his youth he was distinguished for his licentiousness, +and during the revolution he acquired an unfortunate +notoriety. He joined the Jacobins, and coöperated with +Robespierre, Marat, and Danton. He renounced his royal +titles, and assumed that of M. Egalité. He voted for the +death of his relative, Louis XVI., and was present at his execution. +But the storm he had assisted to raise was now +directed against him. He was included in the general proscription +of the Bourbons, and was guillotined November 6th, +1793. His wife, who sustained an excellent character, returned +to Paris after the restoration, and died in 1821.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote'><a name='Footnote_0007' id='Footnote_0007'></a><a href='#FNanchor_0007'><span class='label'>[7]</span></a> +<p>Lord Edward Fitzgerald was the son of the Duke of Leinster, +and born in Ireland, October 15th, 1763. He was educated +for the military profession, and served in the American war +with credit. He was an ardent lover of liberty, and deeply +felt the wrongs done to his native country by the British government. +He hailed the French revolution as the dawn of +universal freedom: in 1792 he went to Paris, and participated +in the intoxication of that eventful era. After his marriage to +Pamela, he went to Ireland, and became one of the leaders in +the rebellion of 1798. He became obnoxious to the government, +and was arrested while concealed in a house in Dublin. He was +at the time in bed: he resisted fiercely, and wounded two of the +officers, one of them mortally. He received a pistol ball in his +shoulder, and, being confined in Newgate, died June 4th, 1798.</p> +<p>He was a man of remarkable elevation and singleness of +mind, and was greatly endeared to his friends. The letters +written by different members of his family, at the time of his +arrest and during his confinement in prison, published by his +biographer, Moore, are among the most touching that were +ever penned. Their attachment to their unfortunate relation +amounted almost to idolatry.</p> +<p>His wife, who had three children at the time of his death, +seems to have been a fit partner for so noble a spirit. The +letters above alluded to depict her character as one of extraordinary +elevation and loveliness. Some doubt about her parentage +has existed; but, as we have given the statement of +Madame de Genlis upon the subject, it does not seem necessary +to say more. She returned to France, and her remains +are deposited in the cemetery of Mont Martre, at Paris.</p> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div class="trnote"> +<p><b>Transcriber’s Notes</b></p> +<p>The author’s original spelling preserved, e.g. medalion, Shakspeare and Shakspere.</p> +</div> + +<!-- generated by ppg.rb version: 3.21k3 --> +<!-- timestamp: 2010-07-26 16:24:45 -0500 --> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Lives of Celebrated Women, by +Samuel Griswold Goodrich + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIVES OF CELEBRATED WOMEN *** + +***** This file should be named 33273-h.htm or 33273-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/3/2/7/33273/ + +Produced by Katherine Ward and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This book was +produced from scanned images of public domain material +from the Google Print project.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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