"WE WON'T GO HOME TILL MORNINGI" OR, Women lose Loves Have Ruled the World.

LIFE SKETCHES OF THE MOST FAMOUS BELLES

OF CUPID'S COURT FOR TWO

CENTURIES,

/ BY JULIE BE MORJEMAR.

SUPERBLY ILLUSTRATED.

FUE&SHED BY RICHARD K. FOX, PROPRIETOR POLICE GAZETTE, 483 WILLIAM STREET, N. Y. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1882, by RICHARD X FOX, Publisher of the Police Gazette, • NEW YOBK, . Inthe Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. CONTENTS.

CHAITEB.

1.-FISH-GIRL AND KING'S MISTRESS.

11.-THE QUEEN OF KINGS AND MOTHER OF REVOLUTIONS.

111.-AN EMPEROR'S AMOUR.

IV.-FROM PALACE TO HOVEL. • V.—THE MISFORTUNES OF A LAWLESS GENIUS.

VI.—A DESTROYER OF MEN.

VII.—THE COST OF AFALSE STEP.

VIIL—A MADGENIUS.

IX.-ASIREN OF OLD NEW YORK.

X.—A QUEEN OF DIAMONDS.

XI.—THE FAVORITE OF A TYRANT.

Xn.—CAPTURING A PRINCE'S HEART.

XIII.—MAJOR YELVERTON'S WIFE.

XIV.—THE AMERICANBELLE WHO SOLD HERSELF FOR A TITLE.

XV.—CRIME HAUNTED.

FOLLY'S QUEENS.

CHAPTEB L

FISE-GIBL AND KING'S MX3TBES9 , Those who have made Satan's character a The moral that their lives teach is all that etudy tellas that his rulingpolicy in winningiconcerns us. Letus glance at that ofone of the world to himself is to select handsome IFolly's fairest sovereigns, merry Nell women with brilliantintellects for his adju- Gwynne. tants. And facts and our own observation This"tThis "archest of hussies" was born in the compel us toadmit, ungallant as itis, that the little towtown of Hereford, England. A mean, assertion is true. There are many reasons in rickety oldc shanty is pointed out as the place extenuation of this fact, not generally consid­ ooffher birth.bii The gossips there little thought ered by moralists who delight insermonizing ithat a clchild so humbly born would be the over "lovely woman's folly." They start out mother of a line of dukes, or that her great withthe proposition that a woman whois en­ grandson should be the bishop ofher native dowed with intellect and beauty, and is of jtown, and occupy for forty years the Episcopal bad morals, must necessarily have been !palace in close proximity to the shaky dwell­ created so, and that she acts solely from im­ ing-place where his grand-mother first saw pulses beyond her control. Their inconsis­ the light. tency becomes apparent at once, when in the Nell was born in 1650, and tradition states face of this belief they condemn the woman that at a very early age she ran away from for that which they claim she'is irresponsible home and went toLondon. Shortly after her People ofliberal ideas lookupon mankind as arrival there she gave evidence of that enter­ the creatures of circumstance, and regard prise and energy which was to carry her to their actions, whither good or bad. as the out­ fame and fortune by engaging in the fish busi­ come of certain conditions of life- The man jness. She roaraod tho streets, sellingflsh by or woman who holds this viewis always chari­ day. and rambled from tavern to tavern at table and forgiving with their fellows. They night entertaining the company after supper may condemn, but their condemnation is sea­ with songs and was an occasional attendant soned withpity. inthe house of a noted courtesan, Madame In contemplating the character of famously Boss. Inthis way she soon became a charac­ infamous women who have reigned as Queens ter ofLondon, and one of tho most popular of inFolly's Court, itis hoped that the reader of her kind. She found plenty of time while these articles describing their career, will crying the merits ofher stock tobanter ribald be among those who are more willingto for­ jokes with the lusty, red-facad yokels who give than condemn. Withbut few exceptions were her neighbors and competitors. Her wit the lives of these women were moulded by made her a dangerous opponent in a verbal adveree circumstances. They strutted their contest with more lofty acquaintances, too. brief hour on life's stage creatures of the as all who engaged her in wordy battle had present, taking no note of time and the sor­ good reason to know. She could flatter a cus­ rows and remorse itmight bring. God and tomer intobuying double his needs and make they alone know what their punishment was. Ione who concluded, after looking over her 7 8 F:OLLY*B QTTJBEtfS. stock, that he "wouldn't buy anything to-day," sneeringly toher antecedents, never ventured feel that he had committed a grievous sin. todo so a second time. Her beauty captivated the hearts ofthe sus­ Among those who came nightly to witness ceptible fish-boys in the market, and made Nell's performances was Lord Buckhurst, a them knights, ready to blacken each other's man, according tothe chronicles of his time, eyes and otherwise bruise their anatomy for "brave, truthful, gay, honest and univer­ the honor of being considered her favorite sally beloved." Added to his other accom­ champion. Ahandsome, athletic young fish­ plishments were intellectual giftsof a high monger after many encounters and many order. His poetry won the highcompliment hard-earned victories was awarded the palm from Pope that he was "the grace of courts,, by the rollickingNell. She became his com­ the muses' pride." panion, retiring from the market alto­ While in the midst of her triumphs, the gether. clever nobleman became enamored of Nell, But her restless spirit soon began tochafe and in obedience to his request she leftthe under her new condition, and she bade adieu stage to preside as mistress of his house at toher firstlove,and again entered upon an Epsom. active life,this time as a barmaid ina famous The transition from a fish-boy's darling to inn a short distance from the Drury Lane that of a lord was enough to turn the head of Theatre, much freauented by the actors of any ordinary woman. But Nellaccepted it as that celebrated temple ofthe drama. a matter of course, and carried herself with a. It was quite natural that her vava,city and grace that won encomiums of admiration beauty should attract the notice ofThespians, from all the noble roysterere who were from noted as they are for their susceptibility to time totime LordBuckhurst's guests. female charms. A famous member of the After a year's absence from the stage, she- Drury Lane company named Lacy offered to returned. Whether her desertion of Buck­ give her dramatic instruction, and then se­ hurst was due to her fickleness or a desire to cure her a chance to make her appearance once more tread the boards, or whether the- before the publicas an actress. nobleman tired of her, is not known. Nell readily accepted his kind offer,and at She'was hailed withapplanse by the general seventeen years of age made her debut at tha public,but treated withcontempt by a num­ " " King's theatre inthe character of Cydaria ber of influential persons who had hitherto- " inthe tragedy ofthe Indian Emperor." been valuable friends to her, and whose jeal­ She made a failure also, and as dead a one as ousy now made them enemies. But she any herring she had ever vended from her found compensation for their scorn and en­ scaly basket mity in the profitable friendship of Lord Tragedy was too serious for her tempera­ Dorset, and finally in the royal homage of ment, and itwas not until she assumed comic Charles' Stuart, the reignfng'king of England,, characters, stamped the smallest foot inEng­ himself. land on the boards, and laughed with that pe­ Night after night he occupied his box, a de­ culiar laugh that, inthe excess ofit,her eyes lighted watcher of her pranks and oddities. almost disappeared, she fairly carried the She became his mistress in 1668, and soon town, and enslaved the hearts ofthe city and after disappeared forever from the stage, and. Charles Second's merry court. She spoke retired to a palatialresidence inLincoln's Inn prologues and epilogues withwonderful effect, Fields, provided for her by her royallover. danced like a fairy, and inher peculiar way Here in1670 her firstson, Charles, was born. invested all she did with such naturalness A second son. James, born the followingyear, that her auditors were enchanted. Dryden, died when twoyears ofage. the poet, gave her the best parts inhis plays. Appreciating, no doubt, the advantages After she tired of Lacy, another actor. Hart, which accrued to her from her relations with became her tutor and soon made a star of her the king, Nell curbed her natural bent, and of the first magnitude. remained loyal to Charles for a number of In the green-room she was so fierce of years. She exerted all the blandishments of repartee that those of her associates who, her nature on the profligate monarch. He jealous of her success, were wont to allude became her slave, and readily complied with. KELL GWYNNE,

THE ACTBEBB, AND MISTBESS OF KIKG CHABIJZS H.

FOLLY'S QUEENS. 9 all of her wishes, no matter how capricious mistress a harlot, whereupon Nell told him and unreasonable they were. "to never risk his" carcass again save inthe The son ofNellGwynne and the king, after­ defence of truth; how, drivingthrough the wards known -as the Duke of St. Albans. was streets of Oxford one- day the crowd, mis­ born before she leftthe stage onMay Bth,1670. taking her for another of the king's lemans, The expedient he adopted to secure for this the Duchess of Portsmouth, hooted her until son same rank Charles she put out at advancement to the her head" the coach window and •conferred on his other natural children was said smiling, Good people, you are mistaken. an amusing one. The kinghappened tobe in Iam the Protestant hussey," and much more her apartments when the youngster was en­ like it. We read, too, that she was the most gaged in somo childish sport, and his mother popular of all the mistresses by whom Charles called to him: left his fifteen children, and that once, when " Come here, you littlebastard." the report got abroad that the kinghad pre­ "Oddsflsh," said Charles, "Thou mightsi sented this same Duchess ofPortsmouth with give the lad a better name, Nelly." a handsome sorvice of plate, a mob gathered "Indead!" she replied, demurely, "and round the goldsmith's shop, loudly hooting what should thatbo ? Sure Ihave no other to the Duchess, wishing the silver was melted give him." and poured down her throat and saying it was A few days afterwards this nameless young a thousand pities his majesty had not bo- gentleman was created Baron of Heddington stowed this bounty onMadame Ellen. and Earl ofBurford. Charles loved her to the last as he deserved Inhis fourteenth year he was made a duke to, forshe is said to have been the only one by an accident ofdeath. Harry Jermyn. Earl of his mistresses who was faithful to him. of St. Albans, died at ninety years of age, His last words were "Let not poor Nelly leavingno successor tohis title. Charles gave starve." the name of St. Albans to NellGwynne's son, Itwouldbe unjust not to make note hero of with the title of duke, making ithereditary. one good work this fair but frail beauty did The present and tenth duke ofSt. Albans is a forthe kingdom whose ruler she ruled. But linoal descendent of King Charles and Nell for her influence on the king the splendid Gwynne. Chelsea Hospital for seamen, to this day a While under Charles' protection Nelllived monument toEnglish gratitude toits defend­ like a princess. She received a pension ofa ers, wouldprobably never have existed. £1,000, and gifts amounting altogether infive The character of this eccentric beauty la years to moro than £60,000. Whenever she such a mixture ot inconsistencies that all of appeared in the parks fora driveher equipage her biographers have been puzzled whether to had no rivals in magnificence. Petitioners condemn or admire her. She was a creature with a case to push at court always found a of humors. She could be cruel and kind powerful friend in her. She spent as she almost in the same moment. She respected gained money, with open hand and liberal neither persons or positions, only so far as charity, and kept up an army of pensioners. suited her schemes and ambitions. Succesu Her home life was one round of pleasure. was accepted as amatter of course, and ad­ Titled roues gathered nightly at her board, versity likewise. Allof her actions, were sea­ and sat far into the morning enchanted by soned with recklessness from her birthup to the witcheries oftheir charming hostess She the day of her doath, which occurred inNo­ loved;nothing better than to tryhor fortune vember. 1687, inher thirty-seventh year. at cards, and lost and won large sums with Notwithstanding the immense wealth that equal indifference. had been given her inone wayand another, Numberless stories are told of her Quick she died poor, leaving a large amount of wit and charitable goodness. We read how, debts. She wan buried inSt. Martin's in the while driving up Ludgate Hill iv a superb field, lamented bya small number only. coach, she came upon some bailiffs who were Will any moralist deny that, if Nell Gwynne's early hurrying a poor clergyman to jail for debt | life had been different from and pawned her diamond rings to release what itwas, she would not have been onorn&» him;how, one day, her coachman fought and ment to womankind ? was beaten by a street loafer who called his 10 FOLLY'S QUEENS.

CHAPTER!>\ H.

THE QUEEN OP KINGS AND MOTHBB OF REVOLUTIONS,

Itis the proud boast ofIrishmen thatIreland the trust, and, to make itmore binding, mar­ has produced more poets, orators, philoso­ ried the young widow six months after Gil­ phers, statesmen, fiddlers, and various other bert's death. geniuses of the male gender than any country When Lola was six years ofage she was sent on the globe, and, glorybe to St. Patrick, the to Captain Cragie's father at Montrose, Scot­ boast isnot an empty one. land. This old gentleman was pleased with Itis strange, when the characteristic gal­ the precocious little beauty and humored every lantryof Irishmen toward the fair sex is taken whim and fancy that entered her head. Inher into consideration, that they so seldom sing thirteenth year, by request of her mother, the praises of their talented countrywomen, Lolawas sent to Paris to beeducated. Her ad­ and this notwithstanding the fact that Erin vancement in the ordinary studies had been has fathered— ormothered— some of the most veryrapid, and she was considered beyond the intellectual and beautiful women the world capabilities of-the school which she had been ever saw. attending. Among the Irish women who did a little She remained but a year in Paris. Shortly more than their share of stirring the worldup after her return to Montrose her mother ar­ the most prominent was Lola Montez. rived from India and began to prepare all She was born in the City of Limerick in the manner of extravagant wearing apparel for year 1824. Her father was a son ofSirEdward her daughter. One day Lo'a made bold to ask " Gilbert, an Irish gentleman of the raal ould what this was all about, and received for an stock." The mother of Lola was an Oliver, of answer that itwas none of her business— that Castle Oliver, and her family was of the noble children shouldn't be inquisitive. But there Spanish stock ofMontalvo, descended from the was a Captain James, of the army in India, Count de Montalvo, who once possessed im­ who came out with her mother, and he in­ mense estates inSpain, all of which were lost formed Miss Lola that all this dressmaking in the wars with the French and other na­ business was for her wedding— her mother tions. having promised her inmarriage to Sir Abram Her father was made an ensign in the Eng­ Lumly,a rich and gouty dotard of sixtyyears, lish army when he was seventeen years old, who was Judge of the Supreme Court in and before he was twenty he was advanced to India. the rank ofcaptain. Soon after his promotion Inher distress Lola sought the counsel of he was married, his wife being onlyfifteen Captain James. He was twenty-seven years of years of age at the time. Inthe second year age and handsome as an Apollo. In tears ofthis marriage a daughter made her debut in and despair she appealed to him to save her the world. She was christened Marie Dolores from this detested marriage. He did itmost Eliza Eoepanna Gilbert. (Lola Montez was the effectuallyby eloping with her the very next name she adopted when she became an day. actress.) The pair went to Ireland to Captain James* Soon after the birth of Lola the Forty-fourth family,where, after considerable difficulty(as Regiment, in which her father was Captain, no clergyman could be found who would marry was ordered to India. The family were in that so young a girlwithouther parents' consent), countrybut a few days when the cholera broke the Captain's sister went toMontrose and ob­ out and Captain Gilbert was among its first tained Mrs. Craigie's permission tothe banns, victims. There was a young and gallant offi­ but she wouldneither be present at the wed­ cer inthe Forty-fourth named Cragie. of whom ding or send her blessing. Captain Gilbert was very fond, and, when Captain James remained withhis child-wife dying and too far gone to speak, he took his eight months in Ireland, and then returned wife's and child's hand and put them into the with her tohis regiment in India. They lo­ hand of this young officer. Cragie accepted cated inCalcutta, and there Lola firstbegan to DESCENDING T3 HER DOOM.

FOLLY'S QUEENS. give evidence of her fondness for the gay side good old gentleman . oflife. When brought intocontrast withmany ofMontrose without In. ofhis brother officers Captain James was not She was leftla London th. so charming a personage as Lola thought him her fate. She had, besides the when she flew tohim for protection from her dollar check givenher by her stepth.. mother's plans. The society of young officers tween five and six thousand dollars wou pleased her, and her husband became jealous jewelry. Possessing extravagant tastes a very of the attentions she showed them. Accord­ considerable portion of this capital disap­ ing to all accounts, however, Captain James peared inside of a year, and she then began to was not one of the sort who "take pizen and take stock of the future. She applied for a die" whenever some hitch occurs in their do­ position inone ofthe theatres, but her defec­ mestic joys. His principle of livingwas to tiveEnglish was abar toher immediate aspi­ make the best of everything, and when Lola rations. Then she resolved to become a dan~ became free and easy inher notions of matri­ seuse. She engaged a Spanish teacher of that mony Captain James followed suit. art, with whom she studied four months, and The pair were boarding witha Mrs. Lomer, a then made her debut at Her Majesty's Theatre. very pretty woman of thirty-three, who had Afterstopping there a few months with great joinedher fortunes tothat of a wealthygentle­ success anumber ofinfluential friend? secured man double her age. Mrs.Lomer made up to un opening for her at the Royal Theatre at Captain James Lola's lack of affection. The Dresden, inSaxony, and here she met and be­ pretty Irish girldid not keep a very strict came acquainted with the celebrated pianist, lookout on the actions of her lord. In the Franz Liszt, who was then creating such a early morning, when he and Mrs. Lomer were furore in that city that when he dropped his off on a social ride on horseback, she was pocket handkerchief itwas seized bythe ladies peacefully sleeping offthe fatigue of a night's and torn intorags, which they divided among frolio in congenial society. Things went on themselves, each being happy to get so much this way until one morning Captain James as a rag that- had belonged to the great ar­ and Mrs. Lomer rode so far that they could tist. not findtheir way ba«k. The Captain and his The excitement created byLola Montez's ap­ inamorata never returned. pearance at the theatre in Dresden was quite Lola- hailed this domestic episode as the as great among the gentlemen as was Liszt's turning point inher life. Summoning up all among the ladies. the courage (a desire to be choice in our lan­ She was invited by the King and Queen to guage prevents us from saying "cheek") sho visit them at their summer palace, and when, possessed she sought her mother, who was in she left her royal patroness, the Queen (who another part of India with her husband, and was a sister to the Kingof Bavaria), gave her asked for sufficient money to take her back to aletter of introduction to the Queen of Prus­ Montrose. Her stepfather sympathized deeply sia, which opened up the way foran immense- withher inher domestic troubles, and signal­ triumph inthe capital of that country. The- ized his affection by placing in the hands of Queen became her enthusiastic patron, and the littlegrass widow a check for a thousand often invited her to the royal palace, and. pounds onhis banker in London. There her finally wound up her attentions byoffering to oldguardian was to meet her and escort her make a match forher and settle her down in. tohis home at Montrose. the stagnation of matrimony at Court; but Among the passengers on the ship in which Lola Montea was a giddy fool, intoxicated witb she sailed from India was an American lady her success as a danseuse, and cared not a fig of fast proclivitiesnamed Stevens. Noticing forall the wealth and position there was in the­ the vivacity and beauty of Lola Mrs. Stevens world. took occasion todescribe in the most glowing Pleasure was the be all and end all of hot terms the pleasures of lifa in London. The ambition— justthen. result was that Lola decided to take up her While Lola was ut thoPrussian Court an in­ residence there. Mr.Crogie, who was a blue cident occurred which caused laughtor all over Scotch Calvinlst, was there on her arrival to the kingdom..Frederick William, the King, take her home, but she refused to go, and the gave a grand reception to the Czar of Russia, FOLLY'S QUEENS.

-,ited todance. During viceory, his master. The audience cheered imevery thirsty,andasked her lustily,and when^ the performance was .- On being told that it was im over an immense crowd escorted her in .her to have any, as itwas a rule of triumph to her hotel. She found herself a otiQuette that no artist should eat or heroine without expecting it. .^nk in the presence ofroyalty, she flew into The hatred the Poles felt toward the govern­ a violent temper and flatlydeclared that she ment and its agents found a convenient op­ would not dance untilshe was given a drink. portunityin this incident for demonstrating Dukp Michael, the brother of the King, in­ itself, and inless than twenty-four hours War­ formed Frederick William ofLola's determina­ saw wasbubbling and raging with the signs of tion. Thereupon the amiable monarch sent an incipient revolution. fora goblet of water, and, after putting it, to £Lola Montez was deemed the whole cause, his lips, presented it to her with his own and an order forher arrest was issued by the hands, which brought Lola's demands within viceroy. When she was apprised of this, she the court rules ofetiquette. barricaded her door, and when the police ar­ From Berlin Lola went to Warsaw, the rived she stood pistol in hand ready to shoot capital of Poland, ' and it was in this city the firstman who should break in.? that she first became involved in politics. "Come in."she cried, "but remember death Prince Paskewich, Viceroy of Poland, a very awaits you." old man, fell most furiously and disgrace­ The officers were cowed by her determina­ fully in love with her. Old men are never tion, and went away to inform their masters very wise when in love, but the vice-king was what a tigress they had to confront, and to especially foolish. consult as to what should be done. The manager ofthe theatre at which Montez Meanwhile the- French consul came for­ was dancing was also a colonel of the Gens- ward and gallantly claimed Lola as a subject d'armes, and was very unpopular among the of France, which saved her from arrest. A people, being suspected as a spy forthe Rus­ peremptory order was then given her to quit sian Government. Warsaw at once. Her trunks were searched One fine morning Lola received a note from under pretence that she was carrying on a the viceroy requesting her to call at the palace. secret correspondence with the enemies of She went, and received from the infatuated the government. Among other documents old stateman a most extraordinary proposi­ was found the letter ofintroduction from the tion. He offered her the gift of a splendid Queen ofPrussia to the Empress of Russia. country estate, and promised to load her Lola snatched it from the hands of the officer, with diamonds besides. The old man was and tearing it into a hundred pieces flung bent and withered; a death's-head making them at his head. This act confirmed their love to a young and beautiful woman ILola suspicions, and every one who took the part declined his offers. The next day the mana­ of the danseuse was suspected of being an ger ofthe theatre called at her hotel for the enemy to the government. Over three hun­ purpose of urging the suit ofthe viceroy. He dred arrests were made and great excitement began by being persuasive and argument­ reigned throughout the city. ative; and when that availed nothing, to Inthe midst ofall the hubbub, Lola slipped threaten. Then ensued a row, which ended offto St. Petersburg, where sho had been in­ inLolaordering him from the room. vitedby the Czar. When she appeared at the theatre that Her reputation as a politician had preceded night she was hissed by two or three parties her, and she was received at court with the who had evidently been instructed to do so by greatest cordiality. the manager. The same thing occurred the After a short stay in St.- Petersburg she next night, and the next. Finally.Lola's went toParis. Her experience at the courts patience was exhausted. Quivering withrage of Saxony, Prussia, Poland and Bussia had she rushed down to the footlights and de­ created inher a love forpolitics. Kindlyas she clared that those hisses had been given her by had been treated at the different courts, she direction of the manager, because she had re­ had inbibed a bitter hatred of monarchial fused an infamous proposition from the governments. On her arrival in Paris she MIDAME'B COBBEBPONDENC&

FOLLY'S QUEENS. 13 cultivated the acquaintance ofthe Kepublican away with this tyranny and injustice. King leaders, among whom was Dajarrier, editor of Louis in his hours of dalliance with the LaPreisc. He was aman ofuncommon genuis prettydancer was importuned toredress these and greatiy loved and respected by allwho outrages byblottingthem out of his code of knew him government. Her influence over him began The pair fell in love with each other, and tomake itself felt withthe nobility,and they agreed to marry. This was in autumn, and became her enemies. The king was remon­ the followingspring the marriage was to take strated withhis association withMontez. He place. It was arranged that Alexander Du­ showed his contempt for their counsel by mas and Merry, the celebrated poet, should making her the Countess of Lansneld and accompany them on their wedding tour giving her an estate of the same name with through Spain. ButDujarrier was killedina certain feudal privileges and rights over two political duel a short time after plighting his thousand souls. She succeeded in having troth toLola. On the morningofthe duel he Louis abolish his ministry, composed wholly wrote her this affectionate note: ofnoblemen, and then made him choose his "MyDeab Lola:—Iam going out to fight a advisers from the ranks ofthe people. duel with Beauvallon. This explains whyI Prince Metternich offered her amillion dol­ didnot come to see you this morning. Ihave lars to quitBavaria, but all to no purpose. need of all mycalmness. At two o'clock, all Then came threats and plots forIdestruction. willbe over. A thousand embraces mydear She was twice shot at, and once poisoned— and Lola, my good littlo wife mhom 1love so it was only the accident of too large a dose much, and'the thoughts of whom willnever that saved her. leave me.' Failingineverything, gold was distributed Immediately on receiving this note Lola among.the rabble, and a riotbroke out that rushed tothe duelingground just in time to threatened Ito upset the kingdom. Armed see her lover falldead on the sword. withguns, cannons and swords a mob sur­ On the morning ofthe duel Dujarrier made rounded Lola's castle, and threatened toburn his will, leaving almost all of his estate, it over her head if she did not quit the amounting to over a hundred thousand dol­ country. Against theentreaties ofher friends lars, to Lola. During the trial of Beauvallon she appeared before the mob and defied them she was a witness, and while giving testi­ todo their worst. Inthe midst ofher harangue mony, told the prisoner that Bt«was willing she was dragged back into her house; and to meet him ina duel at any time or place he soon after, finding that her enemies were might designate. making preparations to burn it down, she After the trial she left Paris for Bavaria. made her escape disguised as a peasant girl, Her beauty and fame had preceded her, and and walked through the snow out into the she was readily admitted into the highest country. She now saw that itwouldbe worth circles. KingLouis soon became one of her her lifeto remain in Bavaria, but before she most ardent admirers. The susceptible mon­ quitted the country forever she went back to arch was so bewitched by her beauty and her the capital disguised in male attire, and at wonderful originality ofmind, that he became twelve o'clock at night obtained a last audi­ her abject worshiper. She attained such a ence with the king. She gained a promise power over him that she was enabled to fromhim that ha^ould abdicate the throne oreate a total revolution in the Bavarian rather than repeal the laws which he had system ofgovernment. made through her influence. This promise When Montez arrived inBavaria the nobility was faithfullykept. had such power that a tradesman could not Under the stars of a midnight sky, Lola collect a debt of one of them by law, as they Montez went out—a poor woman—to look for could only be tried by their peers. And the the last time upon the city which had been poor people, alas !had nochance when they the scene ofher greatest triumphs. came under the ban of the laws, for the She went to London and entered upon nobility were alone their judges. The Re­ another marriage experiment, of which noth­ publican ideas which she had received from ing came but sorrow and mortification. Dur­ Dujarrier were set in motion by her to do ingher residence there she dressed ostenta­ 14 FOLLY'S QUEENS. tiouslyinperfect male attire, with shirt col­ But her lovebegan to 0001, and Follin ex­ lar turned down over a velvet lapelled coat, perienced allthe pangs ofimpotent jealousy. richly worked shirt front, black hat, French He drank deeper and deeper as the voyage unmentionables, and neatly polished spurs. and the conviction ofhis loss of his mistress She carried inher hand a handsome riding progressed together. Finallyas the ship was whip,which on several occasions she used entering the harbor of Honolulu he leaped on impertinent observers withgreat effect. overboard and the sharks of the Society Her next step of any note was her comingto Island enjoyed a feast. America. She was a passenger in the same The son of this faithless husband, grown to ship that brought Kossuth over. She created manhood, became the husband of the actress a furore throughout the country. Everywhere Maude Granger. she appeared she was greeted by large audi­ Finallyshe abandoned the stage for the plat­ ences. form. She became an enthusiastic admirer of One ofher exploits here was the horsewhip­ the doctrines of spiritualism. Many assert ping on Broadway of a person named Judson that she became insane on the subject. She withwhom she had been connected inLondon met with reverses, sickness came, and on the and whohad followed her. But the most curi­ 17th day ofJanuary, 1861, her turbulent career ous amatory feature of her American career was ended by death. Although she had been oonnects her oddly with a prominent actress worth millions during her life, she died in of the present day. great poverty. She was saved from apauper's Amongher New York acauaintances was a burial by some intimate, personal friends, young man about town, clever, handsome and whoprovided this wayward but gifted woman well-to-do, named Follin. He was married witha last resting place inGreenwood Ceme­ and had a young son and daughter. He fell tery ;whether the good she did during her madly inlove with Lola, and abandoning his lifewas balanced by the evil is a question we family fled to California withher. There and leave tothe charitable or uncharitable reader on the road thither he aoted as her agent as toanswer. well as lover and together they left San Fran­ cisco for the Sandwich Islands.

CHAPTER ni.

AN EMPEBOE'S AMOUB. At the commencement of the present cen­ dissipated, handsome rake, impoverished by tury there was a wealthy speculator in Paris, his excesses, and a godson, moreover, of the named De la Plaigne. His wife ran a private father of Mirabeau, the great orator. He fell gaming house, sanctioned by the fashion of in love with the beautiful brunette at sight, tho time, and had more admirers than her gambled himself into her mother's good husband, unless the gossip ofthe day did her graces by losing all the money he could beg, injustice. or steal to her, and became a favorite. They had a daughter, born on January 15th, On January 15th, 1805, he succeeded in per­ 1787, and christened Louise Catherine Elean­ suading Madam Campan, at whose school ore Dennelle De la Plaigne, upon whom they Eleanor, as she was called, was being edu­ wasted little love. Abrunette to perfection, cated, to permit him tomarry her. The wed­ black-eyed, raven tresses, and with a superb ding disenchanted her. She discovered her complexion, this young woman was also a husband to be a worthless scamp, and when, natural wit, clevor, well educated, and of a on March17th, Sorel, the famous restaurateur, passionate nature. had him arrested forforging the draft he had In1804. Louise met at the theatre a lieu­ given him inpayment of the wedding break­ tenant in tho Thirteenth dragoons, named fast, she discarded him. Bavel. Kavel was thirty-three years old, a On August 12th he was sentenced to two LOLA MONTEZ,

THE QUEEN OF KINGS AKD MOTHER OF BEY( IUTIOrRS.

FOLLY'S QUEENS. 15

years' imprisonment at Donrdan, and Elean­ hold. Mme. de la Saußsays accompanied her ore cast him off for good, and, having been husband as far as Bavaria on tho Bussian discarded by her ownpoople, who were proba­ campaign. At the battle of Moskwa he was blyglad tobe ridofher. entered the service of killed. Madame Marat, whohad been a schoolfellow His widow, who was allthe rage at Munich, of hers, as reader. having fascinated every one, fromSing Maxi­ On January 26th, 1806, Napoleon returning milian-Joseph down, married again, her third from the. campaign ofAusterlitz. and thepeace husband being the King's Chamberlain, Count ofPresbourg, laden withcaptured standards, Charles Emile Henri do Luxbourg, a major of entered Paris. On the 28th he breakfasted artillery. This was on the 25th day of May, with his favorite sister Caroline, whose hus­ 1814, when Napoleon was at Elba. band, Murat, was then Governor ofParis. The child Napoleon spoko of in his Me­ His sister had a complaint to make to him. moirs, his correspondence and in his will. Murat had fallen so desperately in love with "It was," says Constant, "his first;itre­ her reader, the fair Eleanore, that his wife sembled him as one drop of water resembles was jealous, and invoked her powerful another; never did he love a woman as ha brother's interference. had Mmo. Eleanore." Just before taking the "Letus see the woman," said Napoleon. field, in1812. he assured Leon's future by set­ She was summoned. Napoleon saw her to tlingan annual income of 30,000 francs upon be fascinating and intelligent, and— as his him, confiding him to the care of the faithful sister doubtless thought he would—took her Baron de Mennevel. In these hands Leon out of Murat's way for his own possession. livedquietlyfor some years. Buthis mother's Duroc conducted Mme. Bevel the same day to firsthusband scented profitin him and made the Elysee, and Madame Murat had her fickle uphis mind to secure itifhe could- lord toherself again tillhe found a new idol Bevel had been in 1800 promoted toa cap­ to render homage to. taincy, and in1812 retired. He was not heard Napoleon never wasted time in his amours. oftill1814, when, having no longer to dread OnJanuary 30th the hotel adjoining the Elysee the anger of the head of the State, and im­ was bought, abonus being paid the occupant agining that the nature of his suit would pro­ to quititwithina week, and Mme. Bevel was vide forhim popular sympathy under the new established there. regime, he instituted an action to set aside On the 18th day ofIrebruary she sued for a the divorce of 1806 and give him the custody divorce because of her husband's infamy. Be­ ofLeon, then eight years old and inthe keep­ vel made no opposition in consideration of a ingofM.de Mauvieres, Baron de Menneval's full pardon, reinstallation in his rank in the father-in-law. army, withan unlimited leave of absence on Ho called for popular sympathy ina foul fullpay, and a round sum in cash. Conse­ pamphlet whichhe had printed and circulated quently, on April20th Mile.Dennelle received wherever he could find a taker for it. This her decree, and on December 13th, 1806, she pamphlet was called "Bonaparte and Murat. gave birthto a son, inscribed two days later The Wrongs of a Toung Wife. Paris: 1815; at the Mairie ofthe Second Arrondissement as Inithe claimed to be the real father ' Quarto." 'Leon, born of Mile. Eleanore Dennelle and of the imperial bastard, and demanded pos­ an unknown father," the said declaration be­ session ofhim. He argued insnbstance : ingsigned by the Steurs Ayme, treasurer of "The divorce was granted April29, and my the Legion of Honor ;Andral, surgion of the wifegave birth to a son on the 13th ofDecem­ Invalides, and Marchais, obstetrician. ber following;therefore, that son may, Isay The Emperor took the childfrom itsmother, may, not must, be mine, and therefore they and in1808, Mme. Bevel married lieutenant- should place him inmy custody, and allow me Colonel Phillippo Angier de la Saussaye, to administer his fortune. Oh. Iknow all you "withthe consent ofhie Majesty," who signed aregoing to say. My absence ;my imprison­ the contract and gavo as a wedding giftan an­ ment ;the rape of my wife by the Emperor. nual pension of 25,000 francs, the nominal Butthe law is formal and inexorable, sir,and giver being M. Aubry,a member of his house- ifIam declared not tobe that child's father. 16 FOLLY'S QUEENS.

then my wife should be punished for adul­ He became a colonel of the National Guard, tery. That is my case and Iam refused a but unsuccessful dabblings in politics, silly hearing." liaisons, reckless incurringof debts and par­ He secured one, finally, on December 15th, ticipation inthe most rascally commercial en­ 1815, but after the publication of his "Bona­ terprises of the epoch forced him to resign. parte and Murat," no decent lawyer would He was repeatedly imprisoned, and finallyran touch it;so Eevel conducted the case himself, through the last penny ofthe estate of 80,000 December 15th, 22d and 29th. Mme. de Lux­ francs a year bequeathed him byhis father. bourg, who had recovered sufficient interest Up to this time he had been on good terms inher son todesire not to see him come to with both his mother and her firsthusband. harm, secured counsel to defend him. The But Madame de Luxbourg and her husband fight kept up, withallsorts of delays, appeals were fast livers, and had onlya couple ofhun­ and the like, until Revel died in1842. dred thousand francs securely invested to Upto that time he stuck to itlike wax- He keep them alive;so they were unable to help published a fresh pamphlet every time the him to the money he demanded from them, trial came up, such as "New Proofs in the when he went broke. Case of Madame Revel; Paris, 1816;" "Disa­ Then at Revel's suggestion, he undertook to vowal ofthe Paternity of Leon, Natural Son extort what they would liot give. He com­ of Napoleon Bonaparte :Paris, 1821;" "Divorce menced suits against them and kept them up, Abetting Adultery; or, Law Under the Em­ until,inJuly, 1842, the Royal Court declared pire: Paris, 1822;" "Proceedings Before the him the illegitimate son, ¦ by an unknown Oour de Cassation: Paris, 1822;" and still father, ofEleanore Dennelle successively di­ others. He haunted the Palais de Justice, vorced wife of Revel (absent at the time of ¦where he became a fixture. legal conception), widow ofGeneral Augier de He was a stout and solidly-builtlittle man of la Saussaye and wife of Count Henri de Lux; gracious manners, neat as a pin, of regular bourg. This threw the support of him upon features, brown face surrounded by close- his mother, and Leon obtained an alimentary cropped whiskers, and surmounted by a luxu­ pension of6,000 francs a year fromher. riant head of jet-black hair, wearing withease This pension, however, was not regularly anddignity the costume affected bythe well- paid, and Leon undertook- to accelerate mat­ to-do bourgeois of the Restoration; a low- ters by denouncing his mother as a crowned, broad-brimmed beaver hat, a high bigamist. He claimed that she had married muslin cravat, of which the embroidered ends the Count de Luxbourg without legal evi­ fellover a pique waistcoat, showing en ample dence of the death of her second husband— shirt frontadorned witha costly diamond pin, whose body was not recovered after the battle cuffs as ample, shoe-buckles of great size, of the Moskwa—and that, having committed a bluish pantaloons, and olive coat ofhighcol­ criminal offense, she was no longer competent lar, from the tail pockets of which, on the to minister or enjoy her estate, which was slightest provocation, he would produce a that whichNapoleon had settled on her when pamphlet. she married Col. Saussaye. The court indig­ He lived meanwhile by extorting money nantly refused to entertain his case, which from his wife, who paid him whatever he came up for the last time in 1847. Maitre asked to keep him quiet, up to the time he Marie represented with electrical eloquence died. Leon also advanced him a little money the destitution of the Luxbourgs in their for a time. old age, and poured out a fiery flood of de­ IfLeon was not Revel's son he should have nunciation on the heartless and greedy son, been, for ho was a companion scamp. His while Maitre Cremieux endeavored to show parentage was well known in Paris, and he the wrongs that Leon had suffered, and his wontin good society. On October 24, 1832, he care for Revel, who, but forhim, would have fought withMr.Hess, an aid-de-camp of the died of hunger. The result was a judgment Duke ofWellington, inthe Bois dvVincennes, for the mother, and the case was never and shot him through the body. This was the revived. brightest page of his career. Leon lived, thenceforth, in the misery ha

SUCH A LARK! FOLLY'S QUEENS. 17 deserved. He had tried to identify himself dence that, in tho same house inwhich she with every political party inthe chaos which began her amour withNapoleon L,Napoleon Bucceeded 1843, but allunited inrepudiating m, whobought itin1848, and re-opened the him. t passage his uncle had made between itand At the inception of the Second Empire he the Elysee palace, quartered his mistress till fondly hoped that his name and birth would 1860, when tho opening of the Rue de l'Elyseo reopen to him hearts and doors his miscon­ swept itaway. Itwas inthis building,by-the­ duct had shut against him. But he reckoned bye, then called tho Hotel Sebastian, that tho host. Neither the Emperor, Duchess de Praslin was murdered by her without his " hus­ whom he called his cousin," northe ex-King band on August 18th, 1874. Jerome, whom he called "uncle," nor his What a completion of the gloomy personal " " other cousin of the left band, De Morney, history of the upstart Emperor and his de­ whose boon companion he had been, nor his scendents this story of the vilest and most half brother, Walewski, who had made for worthless of them complete 1 himself so different a destiny, would enter­ Napoleon I.died at St. Helena ;Napoleon IL tain friendly mention of his name. A few perished in Austria, without even tho namo old friends of the Napoleonic dynasty opened that belonged tohim, since he was called tho their purses to him, till that most zealous Duke ofBeichstadt; the bastard of the em­ servant of the new fortunes of the Bona- pire gave up the ghost like a contemptiblo partes, the due de Persigny, from the funds cur ;Napoleon the HI.ended his life at Chis­ of his department, provided Leon witha pen­ elhurst, dethroned and almost forgotten; sion that enabled him to support the familyhe Napoleon IV. perished In a savage skirmish had created (irregularly);a family to which, inSouth Africa. dying in 1857, he bequeathed nothing but Afterall, the star of the Bonapartes destiny misery. was amore sombre one than that of many a His mother survived him tpn years. She beggar whom they ruled. died in Munich in 1867. Itis an odd coinci-

CHAPTER IT.

FBOM PALACE TO HOVEL.

Josephine Ordz in1848 was young, beautiful quests when Hungary revolted against the and fascinating, a central figure in the bril­ rule of the Austrian Emperor. Her father's liant society of Pesth, the Hungarian capital, house was foremost in the ranks ofthoso most inwhich her father's (Count Ordz's) rank and loyal to Austria, and Josephine, who, withher wealth placed her, and her own exceptional beauty, talents and peculiar abilityin polit­ charms of mind and person made her con­ ical intrigue, was no mean allyin the days spicuous. Ashort time ago her bruised body when women was a power in court politics, was stretched out in the San Francisco would have ranged herself with hor father's morgue, naked, for the lack of some friendly cause except foran influence more potent than or pityinghand to throw over it even the loyaltyto kaiser or to kindred. poorest mantle charity could grant to mis­ Among her suitors was Count Karaly, a fortune. dashing patriot, whose outspoken opposition Born onthe estates ofher father inSouthern to the Austrians hadanything but favored his Hungary in1830, she was sent in earlychild­ suit in the eyes of Josephine's parents. But hood toone of the convents where the daugh­ she loved him. ters ofthe Hungarian nobilityare carefully At the outbreak of the rebellion itwas clear and thoroughly educated. She had entered that Count Karalycould not remain inPesth. the gay society ofPesth and was enjoying the j Inthe choice between the man whom she loved triumphs cf her first ceason's numerous con- !and the cause which her father advocated she 18 FOLLY'S QUEE27S.

obeyed the dictates of her heart, and agreed Grisi opera troupe, which was under engage­ to fly withKaraly to England. While her re­ ment to Max Marotzek foran American tour, solve was yot unknown toher family, she was and early in 1853 made her first appearance made aware ofKaraly's intended arrest by the in New York in the old Academy of Music, Austrians on a following day. She had only burned in 1865. How she was received in time to warn him. He fled from the city that New York can be best told inthe language of night, reached Venice, was apprehended there aresident ofthis city who saw her there and by the Austrians and imprisoned. She follow­ said to a Chronicle reporter: ed him, and exerted her influence with the "Even the great soprano, Grisi. suffered by Austrian authorities at Venice forhis release, comparison. Josephine had youth, beauty, but unsuccessfully. Austria had been guar­ voice, rank and a romantic history. The anteed Russia's aid, and inthe confidence that musicians pronounced her voice and method the rebellion would bo quelled, arrogantly faultless, and her wonderful charm of manner boasted that all high rebels would be pun­ and undeniably good birth carried her into ished. On the nightbefore Karaly was to be society which few professionals have entered. returned to Pesth a prisoner, for trial on a She was the favorite of all favorites. Her charge oftreason, he escaped from the prison audiences went perfectly wildover her. Why, inVenice. sir,Ihave seen infatuated men tear off their Josephine had been unable to secure his dis­ rings, diamond pins, even watches and chains, charge, but his escape was secretly assisted by and throw them at her feet, litteringthe stage an Austrian officer, who dared not openly with jewelry. Wherever she appeared thes& do a favorto the rebel daughter of the Count extravagant successes were repeated." Ordz. Afterher New York successes she departed Josephine and Count Karaly reached Paris for the tropics. Aftera tour of Cuba, Mexico- insafety, wero married, and lived happily to­ and Central America she appeared in San. gothor until his death, in1850. The rebellion Francisco in the Metropolitan Theatre in18G3. was over, but the young widow could not re­ She came here from Costa Bica, Central turn toher father's house, as her marriage America, witha baritone named Fallini, and with a rebel had irrevocably estranged her Iapplied to Signor Bianchi,i, then San Francis­ fromher family. Her husband's estate had co's chief impressario, for an engagement. been confiscated, and she found herself de­ Both she and Fallini were engaged, and soon, pendent upon her own resources for a living. appeared in "Hernani," following in the Of all her accomplishments none had been so "Barber ofSeville" and "Lucrezia Borgia." extravagantly praised as her singing. She Ifthe woman of forty-three had been robbed adopted the name ofD'Orme, which was prob­ even of a tinge of her personal charms, she ably that ofher mother, aFrench woman, and, .had increased her power of fascination. Her as Josephine D'Orme, made a brilliant debut artistic success in this city, however pro­ on the operatic stage inParis in the early part nounced, was excelled by her individual con- of 1851. Quests, and in her society numerous wealthy ThoAustrian authorities in Pesth forgave men are said to have gladly lavished fortunes. the once disloyal woman, who returned to the Aresident ofthe Paris ofthe Pacific, who was capital tho reigning contralto star in all a witness of her debut there and one of her Europe. Her success during the following adorers, observed to a Gazette correspond­ year, inall tho European cities, is said to have ent: been something phenomenal. A magnificent "Iremember her as she looked in 1863, big, voice and figure and a beautiful face gained bright dark eyes, plenty of color in her face, her fame and fortune,but onlyserved towiden and a perfect form, Itwas unfortunate that the breach between herself and her parents, she had already acquired the vice that brought who mighthave condoned her sin ofdisloyalty, her to that place you speak of—the Morgue. but could never forgive the insult inflicted She would drink too much champagne, which Upon tho family namo and pride by the ap­ we were all too willingto supply, perhaps. pearance oftheir only child as a publicsinger. Her successwould have been better establish­ In1852 Josephine joined tho famous Mario­ ed except for that. She appeared several AN ANGRY QUEEN.

FOLLY'S QUEENS, 19 times on the stage evidently too mach ex­ members of thelfraternity she once shone so hilarated withwine. Poor womanI Every one in." likedher though, personally, you know. Ever From the condition her one-time worshipper hear about her being shipwrecked ? That was thus coldlydescribes, poor Josephine travelled a curious affair. She left here for Australia by rapidly succeeding stages to the mire such and was shipwrecked and cast ashore on a lives as hers usually end in. She preserved South Sea island." little ofher old accomplishments save her skill "Josephine lost everything she had in the at the piano. Thanks to that, she obtained worldand foundherself a captive by a tribe of employment at abeer garden where she made savages. Begular cannibals they were, too. music for the vulgar revellers. Well, she sang to them and charmed them Even this was not enough. From the saloon into complete docility. 'Music hath charms,' she descended to the dive, and at last she was etc., you know. She was gone from here a glad to obtain employment from 8 to12 o'clock year, and returned by a ship from the Sand­ at night, hammering the piano ina Jackson wichIslands, where she had managed to make street groggery, frequented by the roughest her way. Her account of her life among the class of hoodlums and sand-lotters. cannibals was one of the funniest things I She lived on Montgomery avenue, in a sin- ever heard. She brought one of the native gle room witha man named Bower, whom she women's costumes withher and used to mas­ supported withthe money she earned playing. querade in it sometimes for her friends' She cooked his meals, chopped wood forhis amusement. There was not much to the cos­ fires, turned her earnings over to him, and in tume, but she had a droll wayofmimicking return wasbrutallybeaten withmuch regular­ init. ity. On Tuesday night she returned toher "She married the late George Evans, the room as usual alittle after midnight,and not musical director, but they didnot live happily findingBower inthe room called for himinan and were divorced after awhile. She got into adjoining room occupied by a man known as a wayof drinkingodious stuffs, ginand such "Pretzel Johnny." Soon afterward the other things, and did not seem to keep herself quite inmates were awakened byher screams, heard as exclusive as formerly. Ilost track of her the scund of brutal blows, a woman's voice for some time,buta few years ago heard ofher crying, "God help mcl God help me!" and in Sacramento, where she met witharunaway then a heavy fallupon the floor. accident which caused the amputation of a 11Halfanhour afterwards Bower woke up one legand thus permanently crippled her. She of the women in the house and said his "wife" came to my room one day, awhile after that, was very sick. He was advised todo what he and Iwas greatly shocked at the change inher could for her, but soon went again to the appearance. She was on crutches, was hag­ woman's door and asked her tocome and see gard and worn,and Ieasily believed her when his wife. The woman and her husband dressed she toldme she was penniless and starving. and went toBower's room and saw Josephine Iwas one ofher oldest friends, she said, and —dead. asked me for assistance. Igave it to her, of The police surgeon, who made the autopsy, course ;but a man in my—situated as Iam, reported the cause of death to be "chronio you know, could not have her coming to my alcoholism." The reporter looked at the body roomto beg, and somehow Ilost track of her and saw three marks, which could only have again. been produced by cruel blows on the head and "The last that Iheard ofher was that she ap­ face. However her death came to her, it peared at the doors of the theatres onthe days was a welcome one, as can readily be be­ the actors werepaid off,and begged from the lieved. 20 FOLLY'S QUEENS.

CHAPTER Y.

THE MI9FOKTTJNES OF A LAWLESS GENIUS. On the 15th day of June, 1835, in a little vil­ ofthe dailies she came across an advertise­ lapo a few miles from New Orleans, a babe of ment foryoung ladies todance in the ballet of the feminine gender was born, who was des­ a spectacular playsoon tobe produced at one tined to justify the opinion of foreign critics, ofthe leading theatres of the city. She forth­ "that for chic,recklessness and goaheaditive­ withrepaired to the theatre, found the mana­ ness the American girl excels her sisters of ger, and applied for a position as a danseuse. every other nation inthe world." Inreplyto his auestion whether she had ever This promising little bundle of femininity had any experience, she frankly answered was christened Adelaide McCord, and longbe­ "No; that made no difference to her. She fore she could lisp a word was voted by the could dance as well as anyiof his troupe." women inthe neighborhood"the most precious Her beauty, vivacious manner and evident minx in Louisiana." As she grew in years intelligence doubtless made the astute mana­ this estimate was fully sustained by the ger less critical than he would have been with sprightly Adah. She astonished her teachers a young lady less fortunate in personal inthe village school by her aptness inlearn­ charms. She was engaged, and on the night ing,and shocked them by her disregard for ofher debut proved that she had not over­ the proprieties of society. She could indulge rated her accomplishments. inall sorts of mischief, play all manner of She rapidly rose inher chosen profession, pranks, and then discount the most studious and was soon counted a favorite among thea­ scholar inschool inhaving an understanding tre-goers ofthe Crescent City. Afterstopping ofher lessons. Punishment acted as fuel for a year in New Orleans, she joined a troupe further violations of the rules governing the and visited Havana. The social atmosphere school, and nt length she was expelled. ofthis livelycity was just suited to the tem­ Shortly after this event she created a great perament ofthe young actress. The suscepti­ sensation inher native village bybecoming a ble Spaniards were fascinated by her beauty convert to the Jewish faith. Several of her and abandon. She flirtedwithapurpose, and neighbors were Hebrews, and she was inthe many aheart fluttered withpride ather atten­ habit, whether froma desire to be eccentric or tions, and many a pocket-book was lightened. out of curiosity, ofaccompanying their daugh­ She was called the "Queen of the Plaza," a ters to the synagogue. The doctrines ofJuda­ title she wonby the magnificence ofher equip­ ism charmed her, and she was finallybaptized age when she appeared- inpublic. into that belief, and assumed, the name of Returning to New Orleans, she rested from Isaacs. Several ofher biographers have fallen her theatrical duties fora fewmonths, during into the error of claimingthat she was a Jew­ which time she turned her attention to litera­ ess bybirth, owing tothe fact that she belong­ ture, and produced a small volume of poems ed to that creed. entitled "Memories," under the non de plume The country village soon became too limited of "Indignia." There was nothingstartlingly a sphere for the daring Menken's ideas and original about these effusions, taken as & aspirations, and accordingly one fine spring whole. Some ol them, however, evinced a morning she took French leave for fresh poetic talent of no mean order. They served, fields and pastures new. however, to enhance the interest the public New Orleans was her first stopping place. had already begun to take in her, and therein She installed herself in a cheap boarding­ Adah no doubt found her recompense. She house, paid all her money fora week's board, had tasted the first sweets offame, and yearn­ and thenbegan to take reckoning ofher future ed feverishly for more. movements and prospects. She had resolved The quiet walks of literature soon became to become an actress, but was entirely irksome to the restless Adah, and she again ignorant of the means to gratify this desire. took to the stage. While playing an engage­ While looking over the list of wants in one ment in Oalveston, in 1856, she married a MADAMEDE LUXBOURG THE MISTRESS OF NAPOLEON I.

<\

FOLLY'S QUEENS. 21

musician named Alexander Menken, and with true, Miss Menken didn't know the lines of him returned to New Orleans. Her first ven­ Mazeppa— for the matter ofthat she never did, ture inmatrimony was not a success. Menken but she dashed through her part withgreat demurred to her capers, and made himself spirit,and best ofallthe plaudits of the audi­ such a stern reality to her that she went to ence and the glare ofthe footlights so wrought the accommodating State of Indiana and ob­ upon the livery hack that when led out he ac­ tained a divorce. tuallyreared and pawed the air inhis terror Freed from matrimony's cares she entered and rushed up the runs with Mazeppa on his the studio of T.D. Jones, in Columbus, Ohio, back, as if Satan was after him. A veritable and began the study of sculpture. This latest Tartar of the Ukraine breed could hardly have freak, for it was nothing else, soon lost its done better, and the triumph ofthe star and novelty. There wasn't excitement enough steed was complete. about itforher. Her nature delighted intur­ Before the week was ended the theatre was moil, and aesthetic occupations that did not crowded, and Menken was the sensation of furnish this element soonlost their charm. the day. Thus, in that dingy coal-hole began Itwas inthe early part of 1863 that she ap­ that career which was to embrace both hemis­ pliedat the Front Street Theatre, Baltimore, pheres in its —conquests, and considering its foran engagement. She needed money badly limited space onlyseven years—probably the and was willingto playinthe stock if neces­ most successful, pecuniary, in the annals of sary, although her earnest desire was to bo the stage. Her engagement lasted four weeks starred inMazeppa. At first the manager put to a succession ofpacked houses, and although her off, but business being frightfullybad, her share amounted to several thousands of concluded togive her a chance. dollars, none of it remained when her last After mature deliberation they decided it week was finished. would be cheaper to play her as a star on She came to New York, and its feverish, shares, as inthat case unless expenses came nervous, bustling life delighted her. She be­ inshe wouldget nothing, whereas ifthey gave gan an engagement as "Mazeppa," (a charac­ her a stock engagement they wouldbe respon­ ter with which she afterward became identi­ sible for her salary whether the houses were fied) at the National Theatre, under the man­ good or bad. agement ofPurdy. Mazeppa being settled upon as the opening At this time John C. Heenan, the Benicia piece, the next thing was to get ahorse, as Boy, was in the hey-day of his glory as a Miss Menken inthose days did not travel with pugilist. He had whipped Tom Sayers, Eng­ such a piece of property. Aftera despairing land's champion heavy-weight, after one of search of forty-eight hours nothing suitable the pluckiest contests in the records of the could be found, and the would-be star was prize ring. He was considered the represen­ obliged to put up with a liveryhack of the tative of American pluck and muscle, and so­ most ordinary description. Her blood was up, ciety, not so rigid then as now inits canons however, and she worked faithfully with the of heroism, made himitshero. beast, remaining withhimon the stage every On one of her midnight revels, at which a afternoon when the rehearsal was over, firing select gathering of choice sporting spirits pistols at his ear, forcing him up the runs at were present, Menken met the American his best speed, and ina general wayomitting gladiator, and took occasion to express her nothing which might assist him in going admiration of him in the most enthusiastic through his part successfully at night. terms. Hard as John could hit, and be hit When the eventful evening came the house without flinching,he was not invulnerable to was small, and no wonder ;nobody had ever the witchery ofa lovely woman's smiles or the heard of Menken ;Mazeppa had been played honied flattery of her tongue. out years before, and to make matters worse He was the champion pugilist of the world, the Front Street Theatre wa3 an old tumble­ and to have attained a first place in any down rookery inan out-of-the-way location. sphere was to Menken a sufficient reason for But although the house was small it turned— bestowing her unqualified admiration. She out to be a tremendously enthusiastic one regarded the uncultured prize-fighter as an 22 FOLLY'S QUEENS.

ideal man, and took nopains to disguise her affinityinOrpheus, and Orpheus reciprocated estimate of him. Like Othello, Heenan felt the feeling. They pledged themselves before that aparson "to love and cherish each other, She loved him for the dangers he had passed, come better or worse, tilldeath do us part." And ho loved her that she didpityhim. Andthey probably meant what they said at Ashort, voryshort, courtship followed, and the time. on the 3d day of June, 1859, they were mar­ Adah— soon again had urgent business in In­ ried at the Rock Cottage on the Bloomingdale diana in fact, wanted tosee some friends who Road, the Eev. J. L. Baldwin performing the had helped her out oftwo (to her) unpleasant marriage ceremony. It has been asserted by alliances. They proved as obliging as for­ many that no marriage ceremony ever took merly, and she was for the third time a single place. "Brown's History of the American woman. Stage" states the above fact, and the many Whether by this time the "land ofthe free" conflicting stories told leads the author to be­ had become too free to suit her, or she was lieve that itis authentic. moved by a desire to try her luck inother The widely different temperaments of the countries where freedom was not so free, is pair soon made "love's young dream" a very not known. chaotic reality. Heenan found that, although She leftforLondon inOctober, 1861, opened he could vanquish scientific and plucky pugil­ at the Drury Lane Theatre shortly after as ists, an impetuous, obstinate and wilful Mazeppa and immediately became all the woman was beyond his power. Adah held rage. The staid, methodical John Bulls were notions of matrimony radically at variance fairlyupset by the pranks and antics of the with the majority*of her sex. The bands of erratic American actress. She held to her wedlock, according toher ideas, were as silken eccentric course, however, never losing sight cords, tobe broken whenever they hampered ofthe main chance. There was too much of her actions in any way. The ideal man be­ the Yankee inher todo that. Money came to came a very commonplace specimen of her as plentifullyas did manna to the Israel­ humanity. They quarrelled, and Menken once ites on their celebrated tramp to the promised more sought Indiana, th&tMecca of allmatri­ land. And she spent it as freely. Her turn­ monially distressed. She told her tale of outs rivaled those of the nobility. Her cos­ wedded love to one of the courts of that State, tumes were as elaborate and costly as those of and departed "single, and fancy free," to find any titled dowager in the land. She was the another ideal man. talk ofthe clubs and the observed of all ob- To n woman ofher giddy and impulsive na­ servers. ture this was a veryeasy task. She came back Having become sated withnotoriety, she re­ toNew York and played an engagement at the turned toNew York. Her escapades inLon­ Bowery Theatre. "While thus employed she don had greatly enhanced the interest her met and became acquainted withRobert New­ countrymen felt in her, and this paved the ell, better known to the world as "Orpheus C. waymore easily to their pocket-books. Her Kerr." This talented humorist was then in first engagement on her return was one ofthe the zenith of his fame. Among the many most successful of her life. brilliantBohemians ofNew York at that time Strange tosay, during her absence she did he ranked among the first. His contributions not marry any one. For this dereliction from tothe press had earned hima high reputation her usual course, she soon made speedy inliterary and other circles. amends. Her next "ideal man" was James Adah, it will be remembered, was afflicted Barclay, a successful merchant, with more withthe scribbling fever, and in addition to money than good sense. Her fourth venture writingoccasional poems forherown personal in wedlock took place on the 21st of August, gratification, contributed now and then 1866, ather residence, Bleak House, NewYork. sketches, romantic and practical, to the press. According to current chronicles this resi­ There is always a sympathy, ifnot an affinity, dence must have been anything but "bleak" between persons of similar tastes and occupa­ when its charming mistress was at home. tions. Menken felt that she had met her Every night found it occupied by as merry WEDDED TO DEATH.

FOLLY'S QUEENS. 23 and reckless a crowd of Bohemians as ever Eugenic, then upon the wane of her beauty, came together under one roof. Under the was very jealous of her. The Emperor had direct supervision of the hostess revels took called her one evening to his lodge and pre­ place that would vie intheir wildhilaritywith sented her with some gifts, at the same time the feast ofSaturnalia. telling her with all his eyes that there was Menken's restless nature was always yearn­ nothing he so much admired as a fine woman ing after rarity, and shortly after her mar­ very much undressed. Mazeppa was then the riage she started for Paris, leaving ncr liege great attraction of Paris. Men wore Mazeppa to mourn, or perhaps rejoice, at her absence. hats, collars, handkerchiefs, and perhaps even Her lifeinthe gay capital ofFrance was but a Mazeppa pantaloons, which was very Queer, repetition of what ithad been inLondon and to say the least, as neither Mazeppa or Men- New York. She understood the French lan­ ken wore scarcely any clothes at all when guage perfectly, and she performed Mazeppa they presented themselves nightly on the In a way that set the volatile Parisians all boards of the Port St. Martin. agog withadmiration, and charmed oldAlex­ It was in the midst of this gaudy glory that ander Dumas tothe extent of bringing him to Menken died—suddenly, as if cut down by a her feet. pistol shot. Inthe midst of her mad career in that city, Inthe little Jewish cemetery of Mont Par­ in1868, she was stricken down. At that time nasse rests the body of Adah Isaacs Menken. she hud just finished playing an extraordina­ Her grave is crowded in among many others, rily brilliant engagement at the Port St. and takes up a very narrow space. It is cov­ Martin Theatre. She had taken Paris by ered witha slab ofgray stone and headed by storm. Her voluptuous beauty had turned the a small gray monument. On the top of this hearts of all men. The splendor of her life, monument is a funeral urn. Upon one side the gorgeous dresses, her showy equipage on are the words "Thou Knowest," the last words the Bois de Boulonge, her throng of lovers, she ever uttered. On the other side is the in­ among whom were some ofthe most illustri­ scription: ous authors and artists of the world, and her Menkeh; theatrical renown had fastened all the Adah Isaacs feminine eyes of the capital upon her, and Born in Louisiana, United States. made her name familiar on every tongue. JDied inParis, Aug.10. 1868.

CHAPTER YL

A DESTEOTEB OF MEN.

Since the downfall ofthe French Empire and less and extravagant phase ofthe demi monde the establishment of the Republic, the flash ac itexisted inParis during Napoleon's reign, glory whichsurrounded "fast"Parisian society was a great favorite among the Cocottes ;her has suffered an eclipse. The court ofNapoleon soiled name was in numberless mouths ;her HL and its peculiar surroundings attracted dress and eccentric performances were the and sustained all sorts of adventurers. The talk ofthe clubs, and many columns weregiven demi monde, embracing all the loose women toher in the newspapers; her photographs from the handsome and elegant mistresses of were displayed in the shop windows on all the noblemen to the unfortunate painted prome­ principal avenues. No woman ever filled so aaders on the boulevards, never had such a large a place in the Parisian public's eye as period of prosperity as during the year pre­ didthis notorious harlot. ceding Napoleon's humiliating defeat at Her exact history no ono knows, but sub­ Sedan. Chief among these destroyers of men stantiallyit isbelieved to be as follows: ranks Cora Pearl. She was born in Connaught, Ireland. Her Cora Pearl, who, for twenty years at least, parentage is very misty. She has represented represented the most selfish, mercenary, reek- herself as the love-child of anEnglish Earl and 24 FOLLY'S QUEENS. aDublinactress; the daughter ofa Frenchman flatten out and become beautifully less in and the wife ofaBelfast merchant withwhom bulk. hehadelopod, and the offspring ofa clergyman Cora, as soon as she found that her golden, and the daughter of arich merchant, and sev­ star was on the wane, transfered her affec­ eral other origins ofa more or less romantic tions to another purse. The Prince chided character. One thing is pretty certain; she her for her heartlessness, but receivod only was born outside of wedlock. Her parents, jeers forhis bruised heart. One day he called whoever they were, put her in charge of an on her at the costly mansion whichhis money old woman residing inTuam, and paid regu­ had bought, and was ordered away from the larlyfor her education and keep up to her doorby a burlyman servant, who was acting sixteenth year. She developed into a spright­ under Cora's orders. Six weeks after she drove ly,accomplished girl. At the age mentioned bythe Prince's residence and heard an auc­ she met an English army offlcerin the street tioneer calling for bids on his effects. Bank­ one day and began a flirtation withhim. Af­ ruptcy had overtaken her noble lover. Alight, ter sundry stolen interviews she eloped with careless laugh, and the interjection, "Poor the gallant red-coat to Paris, just one week fool," showed how much the ruin she had from the day they firstmet. wroughtaffected her. The Englishman was very fond of her and From that time untilthe fallof the Empire, would gladlyhave made her his wife, but she she continued in the same course. She would prefered to livoas his mistress. — At the end have no dealings withmen who were not rich, of a month she deserted him his money and she scattered their funds witha reckless­ was nearly exhausted— for another love, and ness savoring ofmalignancy. She always had inless than a year she had a dozen protectors, a passion for display and the more costly the all of whom she regarded as the creatures of more pleasing toher. Her toilets were pro­ her caprice. Herblandishments were bestow­ nounced ravishing; she set many ofthe modes ed ina monetary ration on the poor dupes of that are followed on both side of the sea; her her wiles. name crept into paragraphs in London. New Aftera two years' residence inParis she went Yorkand San Francisco, and served as bait to upon the stage as aballet girl, and was soon bringmauy rich Americans into her meshes, promoted to speaking parts, but her accent, i her fame became world-wide.and she gloriedin although she had studied French from child­ the shame of being the acknowledged queen hood, interfered withher success, and caused offolly. Every dissipated man of fortune who her toleave the the theatre. went toParis was desirious of becoming ac­ Ateighteen she captured a Eussian Prince. quainted withCora Pearl, and she rarely failed He was possessed of great wealth, and was tomake them pay heavily for the dishonor of anxious to spend it. Had he hunted Paris and her acauaintance. She had a revenue from St. Petersburg over, he could not have found various sources that would delight a dozen anyone more anxious to gratify his desires ambitious money-getters, and she spent it as than was the fascinating Cora. Her only care freelyas itcame. was that the largest portion should be squan­ The eternal law of retribution at last began dered inher behalf. In this selfish wish she tomake itselffelt with the extravagant Cora. was fullygratified. He placed her in luxuri­ War afforded the reckless men about Paris an ous lodgings, furnished her with carriages, opportunity to employ their restless natures jewels, servants, everything in fact that un­ inscenes outside of Cupid's court. Many of numbered coins could buy and her mercenary her old admirers joined their fortunes with and avaricious nature crave. He gave dinners that of Napoleon, and, like him, tumbled to and parties toartists, actors and journalists ruinand obscurity. and soon grew to be the fashion. The Prince The chastening which the French people re­ had a choice assortment of vices. He drank ceived checked their extravagance and licen­ gambled, and did everything he ought not to tious characteristics. They calmly surveyed have done. Under such a highpressure ofex­ the road which had led to their ruin, and travagance his pile of lucre soon began to started withthe Republic resolved that they SNAEED TO BUIN.

FOLLY'S QUEENS. 25

¦would avoid a repetition of the causes which who could charm men -without abilityto dis­ had undermined their prosperity and gloryas cover somewhere the originofher charm." a people. "That ismysecret, monsieur, and Ishould Cora became an infamous "has been," a relic bo unwise to part withit. The truth is, you of an accursed system, and to-day is but a have never beon inlove with me, if you had shadow of what she was. Men of promise and you would know all about it." fortune shun her as they would a pestilence. This woman, in briof,is the incarnation of is at prosont obliged to employ her She " wits the mercenary harlot. She declares that she and preserve a sharp eye for her dear has neither heart nor conscience, and in this friends," as the French call men caught in the sho probably tells the truth. She avers that no nets of incontinence. man ever wronged her, that she deliberately Formerly she held aloof from her frail sis­ entered upon her infamous career, and that ters; she affected to despise the average she has enjoyed itwithouta tingoofregret or courtezans who were less bad and less lucky remorse. than she. She never appeared in public ex­ Persons who have known Cora Pearl for cept ina gilded turn-out, always occupied the many years say that she nevor does any good. most prominent box at the opera, and was al­ She may bestow benefits sometimes, but itis together the most aristocratic personage in by accident Sho admits that sho is selfish the world ofvice. to the core,that itwould be no satisfaction to She has descended anumber ofdegrees from her to render the whole world happy. Her her once gay position. Adversity has made desires, her aims, her aspirations, begin and her philosophical, and she accepts her down­ end with herself. The evil she has wrought fall with a grace not expected by those givesher undisguised pleasure. Sho loves to acquainted withher imperious nature. refer to the men she has ruined, particularly The strangest thing about this notorious those whohave been proudest of her. -woman isthe source of her attraction. She is A year or two ago Cora took warning from not, and never has been, handsome. On the approaching age. andsold her town house out* contrary she is, and always has been, plain. Since thon she has livedin luxurious retire­ Her features are large, not well formed and ment on the hoards of her protracted infamy. inclined to coarseness. Her figure is not bad, An interesting conclusion to this sketch of nor verygood either. She is not noticeable her career is the following account of her for grace. She is not strictly intellectual; Parisian home, given at the time its doors albeit, she has acquired by dintofclose obser­ were thrown open by the auctioneer. vation and retentive memory, a quantity of The house is a perfect nest of luxurious bright ways and speeches that pass for wit. comfort. It is not large— only two stories She is beyond fortynow andlooks older. When high—but there ismore t han room enough in she was twenty-five she did not seem very it,on a veryliberal allowance, for one and a young, indeed, there is nothing in or about friend. Itis tastefully distinguished from its her that can explainher unquestionable power neighbors by the gilded balcony, and its ofallurement. Hundreds of.men who claim open porle enchere gives a view ofarango.of tobe judges of women have expressed wonder solidlybuiltstables that mightnot form abad at her success, not exceeded by that of any lodging for even the most fastidious poor. cocotte inParis. Before we reach them we have to pass the Not a great while ago a New Yorker whohad "waiting-room." Its doorway is to the left of long been acquainted withher. inquired: the arched entrance, and opposite to itis the "What is it,Cora, that so draws men toyou ? door ofthe hall of the houso. Here we are, You are not young, handsome or interesting, litorallyinmarble halls. "We may survey the apparently, and yet you have made dozens of scene onthe vestibulo for a moment from a men, some of them very clever and widelyex­ large Gothic chair, inoldoak, which may once perienced, your abject slaves. Ishould like have formed part ofthe furniture of a con­ to know what itis. My curiosity is greatly vent. Now wo willpass into the billiardroom piqued, fornever before have Iseen a woman ¦we are still on the ground floor. It has 28 FOLLY'S QUEENS.

divans of red morocco, and four spirited oil chased (the winner of the medal of honor in paintings of the horses "Tricolor,""Black" its class at the exhibition of1867),-with groups and "Musty," and ofa lap-dog that has made inmarble, inmetal and in porcelain—Psyche his bed inside aman's white hat. The noble and Love, Hercules and somebody whom we owner adores horses, probably by right of willcall an acquaintance, and—lhave no time birth, for her father let them out to hire. "We to see what else. Here is a Chinese contriv­ may now pass up stairs, across the rugs of ance for burning perfumes, and a flower lion, tiger and bear skin covering the hall. stand in Eoman mosaic, "representing a Hero, on the first floorand at the back ofthe monument in ruins." Multiply these ex­ house, we find ourselves in the dining-room. tracts by a couple of dozen, and you willhave Itisroomy, forpairs ;and, inits rich brown- some idea of the number of objects, rich and oak paneling surmounted bya wall covering rare, in this humble abode. leather arabesqued in black and gold, its The smaller drawing-room shows the like thick carpet, itsheavy curtains of rep and its diversity and profusion. Here the furniture indescribable air ofmassive luxury was very is inthe styleof Louis XVI., the wood-work pleasant to the eye. Plate is on the great oak black and gold, the coverings of sea-green sideboard, chinaware on the dining-table, the satin v;ith flowered ornaments in white. latter faience de Rouen et de Metiers—blue on a There are two books in the room, the only white ground ;faience Italienne and plateaux ones besides the work of devotion already style in the of Louis XIII.and of his illustri­ mentioned to be seen in the house— "Dore's ous successor. On the same table, too, are "Don Quixote," and "The Holy Bible illus­ large cases containing some of the choicest trated by the same hand. One fancies it ofMademoiselle's personal belongings—sun­ wouldbe a graceful thing tobuy all three in shades covered with black or white lace and on the part ofa friend, and send them on to with handles of carved ivory or jasper, fans the new establishment inthe Champs Elysees by the half dozen in English point, tortoise —they wouldnot take upmuch room. shell and mother of pearl. But stay, we were nearly leaving the salon. One object of greater interest must not be without looking at a very fine oil painting of over-looked. Mademoiselle's beautifully il­ modern date, of excellent workmanship and luminated book of devotions inthe French most irreproachable "moral." It illustrates tongue— a praying virginonthe cover, and a Lafontaine's fine fable of "The Ant and the great store of angels on every broadly-mar­ Grasshopper." You know the touching little gined page. Itstands open at the words, "Let story—the thoughtless grasshopper chirped me soon heai the voice of thy mercy, for in through the glorious summer time without thee is my hope. Thy spirit of goodness thinking of the bad season tocome ;the tune­ willlead me in the straight path. Make mo less but prudent ant expended allher energy live after the law of thy justice. Lord, for the inlaying by for a rainy day. Then came the glory of thy name." fallofthe leaf and the biting blast, and the Acertain stuffyness whichseems topervade singer, who had done nothing but see life, the room after the reading ofthe passage will found herself under the necessity oftrying make amove into the freer atmosphere ofthe toborrow a grain or twoto sustain itfromher landing a relief. This place, too, is tastefully friend's store. furnished ;its chairs are incrusted withivory, Significant that such an apologue should itis draped with Oriental tapestry, and it have commended itself to the notice of the has a statue ofthe classical Paris of the size mistress ofthis house. oflife,and dating from the time of Louis XV. Another flight of stairs and we are at the Another step and we are in the larger draw­ door of the boudeir, having just passed through ing-room, crimson and gold—the latter in the an ante-chamber which, from its position on cornices and woodwork, the former in the cur­ the threshold of a lady's bower, contains the tains and coverings of couches and chairs. most extraordinary piece of furniture in the Here are two chandeliers in Algerian onyx place— a huge stand ofdumb-bells of various and gildedbronze; an elegant jardiniere in sizes, the largest of them hardly to be lifted richly decorated ebony, withornaments finely by any one but an athlete. Isit a delicate at­ JOSEPHINE D'ORME, INTBIGCANTE, ACTBESS AXD A HEROINE OK MANY LOVES,

FOLLY'S QUEE2TB. 27

tention onthe part of Omphale to stupidHer­ aspect is enhanced by her Tudor costume, cules, who,ona wet afternoon, may be sup­ and particularly by a ruffwhich forms a sort posed toprefer a turn with these instruments ofsecond frame for the hard, flerco face. It on the landing to the choice literature down is probably a memorial ofthe time when the stairs? The boudoir is tapestried in dark noble owner, thinking there was no limit to gray ;and solid furniture of black wood in the indulgence of the Parisians, tried tocharm laid with ivory. The dressing-room adjoiu­ them on the stage— only to find that she had ing the boudoir has a toilet service in solid for once reckoned without her host by being silver that might serve for the ablutions of a incontinentlyhissed off. giant. There are innumerable knick-knacks There is now nothing left to do but tore- in this and the room beyond— cabinets filled trace our steps. Before le aving, though, we with a store of needle-cases, Daper-knives, may take a glance at the stables and coach- pin-cusnions, ink-stands, boxes that might house, withthe coupe and the three other car­ hold wafers and boxes that certainly could riages, and the horses Dandy, Arnold,Plimico, hold nothing at all—made inboth the prec­ Rainbow and Queen, so well known to every ious metals, with a free use of every device frequenter of the Bois. The hammer-cloths known to Parisian ingenuity for increasing bear the device of a horse's head, inclosed in their cost, beauty, precious four half -moons, each of which also forms the­ ifnot their with " stones. Inone of the many miniature frames letter C, with this beneath them : Parcere we have a photograph of a thoroughly com­ subjectis et debellare superbos." "It is monplace person whose eßsential vulgarity of Madame's motter," grins the stable boy.

CHAPTER YET.

THE COST OP A FALSE STEP.

Inone of the wards of the Insane Asylum chase wasgiven her. She was reared inan on BlackwelPs Island might be seen a few atmosphere of social refinement far above years ago, seated in alow rocking chair, gaz­ that accorded to the average debutante upon ingsteadily at the floor with bowed head, a the stage of life,and as she neared the period woman apparently about thirty-fiveyears of ofmaturityoccupied a shrine at which alarge age. Allthrough the longday she sat there, number of the butter-flies of fashion worship­ never moving, never speaking, evidently ped most devoutly. She grew tobe a beauti­ communing with herself and brooding over ful, voluptuous woman, and being possessed some idea which had taken complete posses­ of an ardent, impulsive nature, she was in­ sion of her. clined to favor those young men whose social Atnight she was led toher room, and in the position gave them the entree to fashionable morning returned to her chair to go over the society, but who were what is termed "fast" same performance as that of the day before. rather than those who were sedate and mat­ The name of this pitifulwreck ofhumanity ter-of-fact. Under proper influenco this was Polly"Walton, at one time the most beauti­ nature might have been moulded into pure fulharlot inNew York. and chaste womanhood. Her history is a peculiar one. Her parents But her parents were too indulgent to place were considered one ofthe wealthiest couples a single obstacle in the way of their daugh­ inSan Francisco. Her father had gone from ter's happiness. They let her choose her own the East duringthe gold fever while a young company, their love blindingtheir eyes to the man, andby one or two lucky speculations true character of the young men with whom amassed a large fortune. His wife was an their daughter associated. heiress, and their possessions combined placed Admiration, the glitter of wealth and the un­ them in position where want could never restrained indulgence in the follies of the come. Polly was the onlychild, and every upper station of fashionable life led her luxurythat one could desire or wealth pur- astray from the path ofvirtue. 28 FOLLY'S QUEENS.

She eloped witha young man by the name on,made her custodians very laxin the watch of Prazer and went to St. Louis, where she they kept over the artful Polly. They were lived fora ehort time as his mistress. He de­ willingshe should escape, but she must not sortod her, just as she began to realize her let them see her do it. At the first opportu­ terrible mistake. Several times she started nityshe obliged them, and started offin the for home, but turned back, ashamed to face night, not knowing whither she was going. the fond father and mother she had disgraced. Meeting an oldnegro inthe road she secured Realizingthat she was an outcast from soci­ himat a small sum to act as her guide. They ety, she resolved to remain so, and according­ traveled allnight and just at daybreak reach­ lycame onto New York and entered one of ed a station on the railroad, twenty miles the most fashionable bagnios inthe city. from the Confederate capital. Before nine Aftera short residence there she became o'clock in the forenoon she was at her desti­ the mistress of a prominent merchant and nation, wearied and sore in body, but still politician. Her splendid form and physical firmin the purpose for which she came. beauty attracted numerous admirers, so that After resting a day and night she began to after a few years she forsook her merchant reconoiter the place where her lover was con­ lover and opened a house which was the re­ fined. The solidly-constructed and gloomy sort of gay and wealthy people. During the old tobacco warehouse, which became famous war among her patrons were many of the as Libby Prison, was surrounded on all sides leading militarymen of the country, as well by soldiers, why were evidently too devoted as statesmen occupying highpositions in the to their cause to be swerved a hair's breadth affairs of the government. from their duty. Indeed, so zealous were The followingstory isrelated as an illustra­ they that they didnot hesitate to perpetrate tionof Polly's spiritand courage : While the acts upon their charges that tarnished the rebellion was at itsheight a well-known New fair fame of Southern chivalry and made it a Yorkgeneral, who occupied first place inher thingof ridicule and contempt. affections, was taken prisoner and conveyed Polly soon came to the conclusion that her to Libby Prison. "Whilereading the war dis­ onlyway toget inside was to resort totrick­ patches in one of the evening papers she ery. She went back to her hotel and before learned of this fact, and without a minute's the day was over began a flirtation with an thought made her preparations to go to his officerhighin command. He became infatu­ rescue. She told no one of her intentions, ated withher, and when he made advances to simply satisfying her associates who were cu­ an acquaintance was metmore than half way rious as to the cause of her going away by Before three days were passed she received a telling them that she had received intelligence pass from him toenter the prison. Itwas re­ that a dear friend was dying in Chicago, and newed from day to day, and General was that she desired tosee herbefore she breathed treated by the fair Polly to food and bever­ her last. ages that would have delighted the palate of That evening found her speeding on her an epicure, letalone a prisoner whose dainti­ " " way to "Washington. Arrived there, she suc­ est food was salt horse and stale bread. ceeded ingettinga pass to the front. By a She managed to do this withsuch secrecy that most daring piece of strategy she made her she was never detected. Her Confederate way through the lines into the enemy's camp. lovernever surmised for amoment the object Here she was arrested as a spy and confined of her visits. He believed her to be as fair for a few days ina guard-house. Her gallant and loyal a rebel as there was in Bichmond. guardians were not so loyal to their duty that She attempted several times to effect the es­ they were proof against the wiles of a beau­ cape of her Northern lover, but found all tifulwoman. She excited their sympathy by schemes to that end impracticable. her protestations of innocence and her as­ Afterthree weeks' stay an exchange ofpris­ severations that she loved the cause they were oners was made, and General was among lightingforas dearly as she loved her life. the number released. He discreetly left the Taffy" of this nature, judiciously spread citywithoutPolly. Had her Confederate lover THE END OF FOLLY'S REIGN.

4

FOLLY'S QUEENS. 29

found out that she had mado him her dupe it ment. When this pointinher downward ca­ reer she became more dissipated would probably have been serious for her waß reached " welfare. than ever. Instead of periodical tears" she One fair night she shook tho dust of Rich­ became a chronic sot. Her mind became im­ mond from her feet and left thegallant South­ paired and she was taken to the asylum on erner to mourn her absence and wonder at her BlackwelPs Island. mysterious disappearance. Here she made several attempts at suicide, Making her way back to New York, she declaring that she was too wicked to live. again assumed charge of her palace of sin. When foiled in her attempts at self-destruc­ Her exploit was published and served tomake tionshe wouldfallupon her knees and pray her a heroine. Prosperity smiled upon her for death to come and relieve her from the more graciously than ever. exquisite tortures of an overburdened con­ Alas, like thousands more she could not science. stand it. She began tohave periodical sprees Finallyshe relapsed into the state described and while indulging inone would fairlythrow at the commencement of this article. She re­ her money away. These debauches soon mained so foreight or nine months, and then marred her beauty and ruined her establish- the Potters' Field claimed her.

CHAPTER VIIL

A MAD GENIUS

Charlotte Charke— originally Charlotte Cib- butby some freak of nature, instead of a boy ber—was the youngest and most petted child she was turned out a girl. of that pompous courtier Colley. A great Afew weeks later she made her triumphal man was Colley Cibber ;one who loved flesh- entry into Twickenham, where Coney's villa pots passing welland adored the aristocracy ;was, astride ona young jackass, surrounded Who held his head high among his fellows by by all the ragamuffins in the neighborhood. reason of his talents, and even came to be Years made her worse instead of better. It admitted within the portals of White's club. was vainto hide her gun or lock the stable Bywhat irony of fate was one so punctilious door. She studied physic;set up as a Lady und respectable cursed with such an olive- Bountiful; ordered in a plentiful supply of branch as Charlotte? Indeed, he was not drugs from the adjacent village, wherewithal luckyinhis children;forhis eldest daughter, to doctor the alms-houso women. When Col­ ifproper, was shrewish and evil-tempered, leyreceived the bill and roared and cursed, and his son Theophilus a grievous thorn ;but and forbade the apothecary to supplyher, she itwas inthe person of Charlotte, the young­ made boluses of snails and brown sugar, oint­ est, that the acme of disgrace was reached. ment of chopped herbs and mutton fat and The first glimpse we have of Charlotte is went onphysicking all who trusted her as be­ odd and whimsical. At the ago of four we find fore. her marching up and down in a dryditch at A certain adventurer of the name ofCharke Twickenham withstep a3solemn as her pon­ came along an d beheld a comely, unsuspect­ derous papa's, tothe admiration of a crowd of inggirl of fifteen, who was overdeveloped for yokels; clad ina flapped waistcoat of his, a her years, and beset by vague and uncon­ periwig whose knotted ends trailed on the scious longings. He was aware that she was ground behind, struggling under the weight the favorite child of the great Colley, who, of a court sword. And hero, at tho outset, amongst other wonderful attributes, was pat­ we come upon therulingpassion whichguided entee of the great theatre inDrury Lane and her crooked life;all her tastes and instincts said to be worth a plum. Charke was a musi­ were masculine, her desires and ambitions; cian who gave concerts, for which patronage 30 FOLLY'S QUEENS.

was needed. The great Colley's influence pushed him out, banged to the door, and might be most useful. He married Charlotte fastened it withchain and bolt. for it. Alas 1if the stable door was shut, the mare The girlhad cause soon to regret her bar­ was stolen ;under cover of the darkness and gain. From morn tilleve she was tracing her of dallying, other youths had crept in upon spouse through the hundreds of Drury,where their bellies and made havoc of her goods. resided many a wench who was frail as well The bright brass weights were gone, so were as fair. Scenes of upbraiding and tears were the takings of the till, and everything els* followed by blows. The menage of the ofvalue upon which the thieves had been abla Charkes became a public scandal. The too tolay hand. seductive musician, wearied by his wife's Charlotte sat down and railed at fate, whilst chiding, wooed and won another blossom and she hugged her baby to her breast; then rose took ship with it for the Indies, leaving his up and wrote penitently to her papa. But better half alone togo through the travail of Colly was adamant to his giddy daughter.— a first confinement. Mere acquaintances— as oltimes is the case Whan ohe rose from her bed Charlotte were more charitablo than blood-relatives. seemed another woman. Mrs. Oldfleld, who Somebody supplied the bankrupt groceress was about retiring from the stage, gave her witha few pounds, which she proceeded toin­ some lessons and spoke highlyof her mental vest inmadcap haste, as her way was, in the parts. first speculation that offered. This chanced The debutante appeared as Mademoiselle to be a puppet-show, up two flights of stairs " " in The Provoked Wife and was pronounced over a tennis-court in St. James street. promising. Then, in company with Quin, She rigged out her dolls innew and gorge­ played Cleopatra, The Distressed Mother, ous raiment, furbished up their noses and tragic characters, being splintered cheeks, had scenery painted and ahost of " without new hissed off;" was appointed chief female un­ regardless ofexpense ;purchased mezzotintos derstudy inColley Cibber's theatre, with the ofeminent persons, and got the portraits imi­ mission of undertaking any part on shortest tated in wood—and then sat down totake the notice incase of any one of the regular com­ townby storm. pany fallingill. Again the jaded interest ofbeaux and belles Charlotte quarreled with some regal domi­ was aroused by the doings of the mad-cap. neering creature, and retired indudgeon to Fashion flocked up the two pairs of stairs; the new house in the Haymarket, then pronounced the entertainment vastly genteel ; specially licensed to Mr.Fielding;which gen­ vowed that CoJley was a brute forneglecting tleman engaged the seceder at a salary of so talented a creature (Charlotte spoke allthe four guineas per week. But ignorant, reck­ parts behind a screen, just as a Punch-and- less Charlotte slidinto debt, became disgusted Judyman does); came again and again, de­ with the stage, threw up her engagement, lighted. pawned her credit and her clothes, and set up Allwas going well;but Charlotte's creditors, as a grocer in Long Acre. whoupon her first failure had been content to For awhile the young tradeswoman was en­ look upon the trifle that she owed them as a chanted, for,by the way offrolic,her father's bad debt, began to open their eyes now that fine friends came to buy. She was a good she bade fair to prosper. They pursued her; horsewoman, she affirmed ;why not then go their emissaries hung about the tennis-court. her own journeys, do her own canvassing with She, as wellas the audience, grew disgusted ; country traders? Of course; an excellent and with Charlotte to be disgusted was to idea. A saddle-horse was purchased instanter, throw up the occupation of the moment, and and a field hired allina hurry as a dwelling take refuge from annoyance in something fortho beast. novel. She sold the show, which was worth One evening in the dusk, a certain grimy five hundred pounds, for twenty, and disap­ youth elected tobe amorous. Laughingly she peared for a time in the unfathomable mazes jdged him tothe street withquip and banter, of low London. or it wouldn't do to offend customers, and For several years we searoh forher in vain; THE BEAUTIFUL BLACKMAILER AT WORK. (tbom "xaw-thaps of new toui.")

FOLLY'S QUEENS. 31 and when at length we do discover traces of her easy-going mind withthe vexations ofthe the prodigal, she is in a worse plighteven future. than before. Inthe interval we find that she But a time comes when a restless devil had contracted a mysterious marriage. The within coads her once moro to action. Char, second husband, like the first,isdead, and has lotte Charke fullymade up her mind to re­ left her saddled with the burden of his debts. turn to the stage. She never assumed her Animportant change, too, has taken place in second huskand's name, though her aliases her wayoflife. were many and various. To return openly to Harried, pursued, hunted by a whole pack in the stage was impossible, as much on account fullcry, she has abandoned the costume ofher ofher angry father's influenco as for fear of sex. andhenceforth willwear the trappings of the army of creditors. a man. So night after night she (orrather he) stole Under the nickname of "Sir Charles" we with trembling limbs and aching heart to the catch a glimpse of the unhappy woman in a self-same familiar tennis-court where the sponging-house, from which she is rescued by belles used to applaud the puppet-show, to a subscription, raised through the compassion ask if a character was wanting inone of the ofthe frail sisterhood of the Piazza. Pursued plays that were constantly being got up there. again as soon as free, she is protected bya Queer things took place inthat theatre. soft-hearted bailiff, who, won by the occult Once, in the concluding act of a tragedy, a fascination as most people were, ohangedhats young hero beheld a mirmidon of the law withher—her own silver-laced one being only awaiting his exitin the slips to march him off too well known—in order that she may take todurance vile. Scarcely knowing what he did, refuge ina deserted mansion in Great Queen he drew a busk from the stays of the heroine street, where she willfindher little daughter. who reposed upon his breast, and plunged it The door had scarcely closed upon "Sir intohis "Heart, putting an end to his own use­ Charles," than, toomuch perturbed bysudden less life,as well as to his stage rant. frenzy anylongerto dread her tormentors, she About the purlieus ofthis peculiar abiding- rushes bareheaded into the road with flying place ofthe Muses Chuilotte elected to hang, hair and piteous cries for help. inexpectation of something turningup. One "What signify bailiffs now? The child is nightthere was tribulation there, since the dying—dead perhaps— will no one fetch a Captain Plume of the evening had justarrived leech? inhis sedan, speechlessly and hopelessly in­ The spectacle of this youthful gentleman, a toxicated. Captain Plume is the chief part in boy almost, in such dire distress over the loss the favorite play of "The Eecruiting Officer." of a little child, moves the sympathies of the No more could "The Recruiting Officer" be mob. They sway to and fro with words of enacted withoutPlume than could "Hamlet" pity,and are hesitating how to act, when one, without the Prince ofDenmark. Where, at the venerable and kindlyvisaged, breaks through last moment was a Plume to be found? their ranks and leads the youth indoors. Amodest youth, slipshod and down at heel, He communes with the friendless boy, de­ stepped in from the miry courtyard. ''Ifit plores his plight,takes him home to his own should please your honors," he said, with a house along with the child (who was not dead graceful bow, "Iwould play Plume. Iknow as itturned out), and nurses the twain into that part as well as most other parts in the convalescence. Good-natured Mrs. Wofflng­ accepted repertory, and have withme, bygood ton comes to the assistance of "SirCharles," fortune, a clean shirt and stockings." as do Garrick, Rich, Lacey, and other his­ Ina trico the drunken captain was bereft of trions. his stage glory, and the amiable youth im­ Charlotte is inclover for a while;safe from plored tobe quick indressing. Butthe youth duns and debts, well fed, well clothed, well hadaneyo to the main chance. "Icare not housed, and is content to lie for a month or a fig for your art," he cried, inscorn, with two in the lap of luxury, without troubling lamentable downrightness. "With me itis a herself as to who is paymaster, or worrying matter of bread and cheeso. Pay me a 32 FOLLY'S QUEENS. guinea and I'llact; if you can't I'llgo— away." persuaded Jockey Adams toremove to anoth­ It was paid, and the youth acted so well ertown, to St. Albans.and here.as she broodecbrooded that a country manager, who happened to be over accumulated wrongs, the desired ven­ present, offered his terms at once. "Myname geance answered her call and came. It is Jockey Adams," he said, "celebrated formy reached her ears that the obdurate Colley, inimitable jockey dance. "What's yours t I'm traveling onbusiness, was to lie the follow" starting a strolling company. Ifyou join you ingnight at St. Albans on his way to pay a shall play firstparts." visitto some aristocratic patron. Charlotte "Myname." the youth retorted with a reck­ donned boots and vizard and loomingthrough less laugh, "isBrown. I'm alone in the world the mist a-horseback in the road bade his save fora child-sister, and I'm gaping for a coach stand while he delivered; presented a crust. I've no clothes but those Iwear, and no pistol at his breast and while he groveled money. Ifthat suits you, well and good—l'm down and cried for mercy withered his con­ yours." science-stricken soul with her upbraidingß. And so the bargain was struck. Charlotte With unctuous tears he begged forlife,craved and her little daughter went a strolling,and pardon for the past, gave up his purse with inthe first town where they elected toset up three score guineas, his diamond buckles, their tent a strange and wonderful accident sumptuous watch and snuff-box and then befell our heroine. was permitted todepart withgibes and echo- One of the audience, who witha party was Ing peals cf laughter forhis cowardice, which honoring the strollers with her presence, fell cut intohis vanitylike knives. violentlyinlove at firstsight withthe leading Itwas buta poor revenge ofCharlotte's after actor. His form was so elegant, his face bo ex­ all, although she gained the guineas and the pressive, his demeanor so genteel, that the jewelrynodoubt: for she fixed firmly in her young ladyinquestion almost had a fit. Noth­ parent's heart undying hatred. ing would— suit her but that she— must marry Hitherto he had taken no steps himself to him instantly —immediately delay meant do the lady injury. Butnowit was different. agony, despair, death 1 Would the dear youth She dared to Bhow up her father to public ig­ espouse the maid who lovedhim? Of course nominy and derision, to make a laughing he would, for he of course was a beggar, stock of him. She must be crushed, then, ere whilst she (though uglyas sin) was an orphan time was given to work more serious harm. heiress, who ineightmonths would be ofage. Her lifethenceforth was an endless round of at which period she would come into sole misery. She played snap parts as a man till possession of forty thousand pounds im the she had toreveal herself; served as a valet to bank, and effects in the Indies worthtwenty an Irish lord and next as journeyman to a thousand more. sausage maker. Charlotte visited the unfortunate heiress, Her next post was a waiter at the King's and toldher the plaintruth. "Iam no young Head Tavern, Marylebone, whenee'she return­ man," she said, "only a poor, forlorn, de­ ed tothe profession as manager of a wretched serted, neglected, starving girl. My father is band of barn-stormers. An uncle provided the great Cibber. friend of earls and dukes. her pitifullywitha little money, with which He recks not where his daughter rots. Ihave she opened a tavern in DruryLane, but sooa tolivesomehow until I'm summoned hence, went topot. She played under her brother, and tofillanother mouth besides my own,and Theophilus, at the Haymarket till the house God knows that the task is hard." With that was closed, when she relapsed into the old,, *he two women, so oddly brought together, hopeless condition of a vagabond player. mingled their tears and sighs, and parted, The simple story of her wretchedness reads never to meet again. incredible. She published itinan autobiog­ This adventure appears to have effected raphy in1755, whichprovided her withmoney Charlotte as deeply as anything could affect enough to open apublic house, in which she so smooth a temperament. She railed by fits failed, as usual. and starts at the injustice of her fate, vowed She escaped her creditors and a warrant and. vengeance on her father, onallthe world. She hidden ina hutin the fields, squatting on a. ADAH ISAACS MENKEN.

FOLLY'S QUEENS. 33

cinder heap, she wrote anovel with no better There she gleaned a scanty subsistenoe desk than abellows. Her companions for sev­ from the theatres, prolonging- her life tillthe eral months in this hermitage were a squalid 6th of April.1760. servant Bid, a oat, dog, magpie and monkey. Does the history of follyhold the chronicla When she finished her novel she sold it for of a madder queen than this ? fivepounds and moved into London again. — ¦ «

CHAPTER IX. A BIBBK OF OLD NEW YORK. New Tork is a city that grows old fast. New began to recognize the neighborhood as bis things to-day seem old to-morrow. The rest­ New York stamping ground. less, impetuous, go-ahead spirit that perme­ Among the gayest of the gay at that tim« ates allof the people whoinhabit the metrop­ was a scarlet beauty named Eate Hastings. ' olis crowds out all reverence for things and Her domicile was located in street. traditions of the past. This spot or that Some romantic debauchee, with the licen­ buildingmay have been the scene of some tiousness of feudal times mind, " in his named event that had a powerful influence at the her house Castle Hasting" and bythat doß­ time of its occurrence in moulding the desti­ ignationitbecame famous all over the Union. nyof the people for weal or woe. Progress Its charming mistress entertained all who demands that they be blotted out by improve­ came in regal stylo. Under her roof occurred ment. Without a thought of regret the de­ events which form a part of New York's mand is complied with. history. Political plans were formed that had There isbutlittle sentiment inaNew York­ a mighty influence on the destiny of the er's nature when business is concerned. He United States. knows nolaw but that of progress. He feels It was no uncommon sight tosee her enter­ no sentiment but that of enterprise. taininginone evening distinguished states­ Hence we see changes going on every day men, famous generals and celebrated authors and so'gradually but surely does their realiza­ and she did it withso much grace and such tiondawn upon us that they excite no wonder. Queenly hospitality that the sin cf being hor Itdoes-not need an "oldinhabitant" to tell guest never troubled the morals of her com­ you of the time when Canal street was the pany in the least. boundary green of most linebetween the fields the "' One of the "famous of the visitors tothe country and the city proper. Men compara­ Castle Hasting was Aaron Burr. His last tivelyyoung remember the time and manifest visitwas made a few months before his death. nosurprise at the transformation which has This notorious roue was charmed with the taken place. witand beauty of the wicked Kate and de­ Before the country above Canal street was clared that her equal was not to be found. settled in its present condition Lispenard, Such an opinion from so competent a critic Franklin andLeonard streets were considered offemale loveliness was noslight compliment. np-town. In these streets stood, so consid­ At this time she was stillinher teens. As ered at the time, magnificent residences, oc­ s"he grow older she lost none of her art to cupied bythe wealthy and cultured people of charm. The Castle's fnmo as a resort of the city. Gradually they removed a little far­ pleasure increased with ago, and the orgies ther up and their homes became the abiding which took place there from time to time were place of the elite demi-monde and the resort declared exact counterparts of the festivals of the gay and frolicsome from all parts of the ofheathen mythology withall the wickedness country. Some fine old mansion would be reproduced and improved upon. turned into agin mill,another into a hotel, Kate presided over this saturnalia of sin­ another into a brothel. ful pleasure with a gusto which must hay« The hallowed quietude of domesticity soon delighted the soul of her master beyond gave way totho turmoil of dobauchery. Satan measure. 34 FOLLY'S QUEENS.

In later years, when Kate became more make the fame of aEuropean statesman eter­ practical, the Castle was the resort of the !nal as a peace-maker. Those who came to sporting element of Now Yorkand the pres­ fightremained to fraternize in the wildest ence of this class often led to uproars, in revelry, and longbefore they separated they which revolvers, bowies and fists played a had more than paid for all the damage they reckless part. had done to the Castle. Many of these ructions were the result of For a great many years Kate flourished in disputes as tothe merits of the then cham­ the accumulation of wealth. Meanwhile her pion pugilists of New York. Duringan even­ wondrous beauty had begun to vanish under ing some aspiring gladiator, accompanied by the touch of time and dissipation. Among his henchmen, would drop in. Shortly after her other vices she had acquired a passion for an opponent, similarly guarded, would fol­ gambling, a pastime, by the way, much more low. The fighting blood of both parties, fashionable and common then than now. Her warmed up to belligerency by Kate's wine.was parlors were turned into gambling rooms, bound to assert itself. Compliments ofa very and night after night fortunes were lost and derogatory character were sent flying back won therein. and at each came forth other. Then a chal­ Among the votaries of chance who were her lenge and immediately after the fun began. patrons none were more reckless than Kate. gorgeous The furniture which adorned Kate's She played witharashness that seemed born domicilo, the sensitive nerves of her lovely of desperation, and luck generally favored crop of females, the peace the neighbor­ of her. Her success withcards became prover­ hood—nothing, fact, in was taken into consid­ bial and itfrightened many superstitious gam­ by blood-thirsty They eration the combatants. blers so badly that they avoided her as they had their fun out, and the when Question of would a witch. muscular superiority was decided the victors nighta wealthy Orleans and vanquished sat down amid the ruinthey One New merchant engaged at a game, at was agreed had wroughtand drankibumpers to each oth­ her which it that the stakes should not be less than (5,000 ers' health and powers until nature succumbed a side. Flaybegan about ten o'clock and lasted to the drowsy influence of wine and they fell until sun began to rays across under andabout the table, toodrunk for fight the throw his Castle Hastings. Then arose orutterance. the merchant from the table and went out into the streets a Other rows at the Castle quite as turbulent poor man. The evening papers chronicled and destructive grew out ofthe sectional feel­ his death by ingat that time between the North and South. suicide and but few knew the motive for the deed. Some valiant Southerner, firm in the belief years that "one Southerner could lick three Yan­ Two or three after this event Kate met kees," would announce his readiness and her match inanother resident ofthe Crescent City. by anxiety toprove that this assertion was not One one she saw every dollar she possessed vanish, Jin empty boast but a glorious reality. He until she could not meet generally found some equally valiant Yankee the call of her opponent. Ina fitof despera­ wagered whobelieved right the reverse and who was tionshe the Castle against its value just as anxious to prove his belief. "When both —and lost. The law of retribution found an soctions wero represented by several'warriors executor inthe man from New Orleans. His the issue was allthe more interesting. Fists townsman's sad death found an avenger in generally played the prologue in settling the him. Kate was sent out into the world a pau­ •lßestion, butinvariably revolvers closed the per. The friends of the days of her prosper­ scene. itydeserted her one by one. She drank wine, Notwithstanding these various little "on­ then whisky, then whatever she could got that died, pleasantries"Kate managed to bring order was intoxicating, and finally as pitifula out of wreck ot humanity as was ever hustled into chaos" and keep up the reputation ofher Castle as cne of the quietest places inGoth­ Potter's Field. am for an evening's enjoyment." When a And this is the fate that awaits many aQueen fightwas ended she poured oilon the troubled of Folly who to-day thinks that life was given waters by feminine diplomacy, which would forpleasure only. ON THE BRINK OF DEATH. (FBOM THE "POLICE OAZETTB ANNUAL.")

FOLLY'S QUEENS. 35

CHAPTER X.

A QUZXH 07 DIAMONDS.

Itisthe privilege of genius to need no sponsors Theyounger of these two girlswas on thepoint of and no ancestors. As an artist,Sarah Bernhardt was becoming amother, and two months after her arriv­ born the day when her histrionic talent first display­ alin Paris she gave birth to the firstborn of the ed itself. Thepublic,however, willnot be satisfied eleven Bisters atd brothers of her who was to be withsuoh an immaterial genealogy as that. Sarah Bernhardt. Thisprecocious mother was born Ishall speak of Sarah Bernhardt; artists of her ot a mother who hid had no less than eighteen rank have a right to be spared the "Madame" or ohildren. She belonged toa family of Jews in which "Mademoiselle" that is reserved for those whose theBohemian instincts of the race were singularly names do Dot "flitlivingo'er thelips of men." As developed. The members of itare scattered all over forthe sources from whichmy facts have been ob­ the earth, and wherever Sarah Bernhardt may go, tained, Imay Bay,onoe for all,Sarah Bernhardt has whether in Europe or America, she need not been her own biographer. seek long before finding ancles or cousins inprofu­ How long ago ithappened Idonot know. Women, sion. especially pretty women, are rarely exact about Alltht women of this family were remarkable for dates. But the story is none the less true. Two their beauty, and the mother of Sarah in particular young glrls.whoie appearance and dress showed that was famous for the number of passions which she they were not Parisian!, had seated themselves on inspl'ed. Some of these passions were strange and two chairs in the garden of the Palais Boytl. One adventurous, a fact whichmay be borne inmind by was about 15 years ofage; the other alittle younger. those who wish to solve the mystery of tho character They looked at the company withan astonished and of the singular and charming actress of to-day. delighted air; they were lost Inwonderment over the Nothingis known about the father of Sarah, except fountain and the alleys of trees and the impudence thathe was a very worthy man, a lawyer at Havre, of the sparrows. The two girls had not been there who died young, and who insisted on having his longwhen a woman witha gayly ribboned cap and a daughter baptized. Now comes the great question: leather reticule attached toher waist presented her­ Inwhat year wa=Scran Dernhardt born? Acoordlng selfbefore them, and requested them topay fortheir to the register of the Conservatoire it was in the chairs. The privilegeofsittingon the ohairs cost one year 1814, on Oct. 22, and her real name is Boslne sou foreach person. The girls had no money, and Bernhardt. laughed in the woman's face. She insisted, the girls At an early age she was placed in the Convent of protested, and then the guardian of the garden, an Grandchamp, at Versailles, and she remained there oldmilitarypensioner, with a waxed moustache and untilshe had completed her education. It would 5 grizsly goatee, intervened. Finally a policeman appear that Sarah, orrather Bosine, was not an ordi­ appeared on the scene and took the young girls to nary child, and the nuns were struck byher strange the station house. There they explained them­ airs. She was expelled from the convent four times selves. forpeocadillces which its discipline made offences The fact was that theyhad justcome from Amster­ beyond expiation, and four times she was taken in dam, were ofDutch birthand ot a respectable family. again. Her tears, her prayers, her charms were al­ Allthis waß written down by the Commissioner, and ready irresistible. Some years ago Sarah happened mightdoubtless stillbe found among the oldrecords to find one of the reports which the Sister Superior at the Prefecture of Police. The two girlshad sim­ ofthe convent had sent to he? mother while she/was plyrunaway from home withonly money enough to atGrandchamp. The tenor of the document in ordi­ pay their journey. Inorder to deceive the adminis­ nary langn ago is that Sarah was not born for the tration of the diligence, theyhad filledan old trunk ordinary conditions oflife; that she was fated to be­ withbillets of wood.and as soon as they arrived with come either onoot the brightest lightsofpiety orone empty pockets at Paris they had deposited their of the most terrible rocks ofoffence that r.ligionhas trunk at the hotel and gone to sit inthe garden of ever anathematized. the Palais Boyal. There must evidently have When she finallyleft the convent, her arms fullof been some romance at the bottom of this es­ prizebooks and her head bowingdown beneath the capade* weight ofpaper crowns and tinsel wreaths.the family 36 FOLLY'S QLEENB.

legend says that, being asked what the intended to bus, bat saved up the sous untilahe had enough to " floinlife,sho said, in• tone ofardent faith: Iwish pay fora cab and then she rode up to the OonserTa­ to becomes anan." Then, seeing the astonishment toire in state. " that this avowal had created, she added : Unless IAt the Conservatoire Sarah Berahardt waiapapil become an aotresß." ofPro Tost, of Samson and ofBeauvallet,all excellent Itwas then that itwas decided that she should be professors of diction. Inclass ,itappears, Barah had «ont to tho Conservatoire, the national school of the detestable habit of tearing flowers to pieces and music, declamation and singing. The instruction at chewing the leaves, a bad sign according to the an the Conservatoire is gratuitous, but every pupil is thorities onsuch matters, and indicative vfanervous bound, when he has completed his studies, to hold temperament impatient ofrestraint. Altar tbe usual himself at the disposal of the Minister ofFine Arts, coarse of study she obtained a second prizoin trage­ and to contract, according to his orders, an engage­ dyin1861, and a second prize forcomedy in1863, and ment withone of tho theatres that are subventioned ahe had, therefore, a right to a debat at tbe first of by tho State— the Opera, Opera Comique, Theatre the State theatres, the Tbeatre Francalse. Franeais, or Odcon. The Stato theatres thus have She made her debut there in "Iphigenl*an Aulide" the pickof the pupila of the Conservatoire. Inorder in August, 1863, in conditions that were far from to enter the school, each candidate has to pass apre­ favorable. In those days no suoh care was spent liminaryexamination. He chooses some piece which over debuts as now, and after one or two hurried r* ho sings or recites before the jury. Tho mother of hearsals Inthe foyer, or gretn*room, th» newcomer Sarah Bernhardt was unfamiliar with the customs of had to appear before the footlights. Very little the Conservatoire. Her daughter could recite Fon­ notice was taken ofSarah's first appearance on that taine's fable of the "DeuxPigeons," and she thought stage, which was to be the scene of her greatest tri­ that was enough. The— young girl—she was then umphs. No one except the venerable and excellent barely 11years of age stepped forward before the Mme. Jouassain has preserved any very distinct rec­ terrible jnry. But she had hardly said: ollection of the event. The debut was a failure. Mme. Jonaasain alone prophesied abrilliant future "Deux pigeons s'aimaient (Tamour tendrt." forher. Sarcey, most conscientious and most impar­ when Auber, who wasthen director,motioned to her tialofcritics, was attracted by the stranga orthogra­ to stop. Then, as Francesque Sarcey relates, he said: phyunder which she had been pleased to disguise "Enough, enough, come here, petite." The child ap­ the commonplace name of Bernard. Sarcey, how­ proached witha bold and confident air. She was a ever, didnot predict abrilliant future for the debu­ pale, oreature; eyes thinlittle but her had that lim­ tante- h« contented himself withremarking sob* pid and profound green light that characterizes signs of talent. Northern women her physiognomy wassparkling .and I Sarah did not stay long at the Theatre Francais. withintelligence. She must have been a perfect littls demon, angry, "lourname is Sarah?" impudent, fantastic, of an unbridled to&gu* and "Tes, Monsieur." ready to make fun of everybody. Her friends say "You are aJewess?" that the director ofthe Theatre Francais, M.Thierry, birth, "By yes, Monsieur. Bat Ihave b*en baptis discouraged her and dissuaded her from continuing cd." her debuts at a theatre where she had but little "She has been baptized," said Auber, turningto his chance of ever distinguishing herself. But there is colleagues. "It would have been|a pityIfsnch a another stoiy to the effect that the irritable young pretty child had not been baptized. She has recited creature boxed the ears of a senior member of the her fable of the 'DeuxPigeons' verynicely. We must company. Ifthe ears had been those ofa man the admit her." matter might have been arranged, but the ears Andso she was admitted to the Conservatoire in belonged to a person of the sex that never par­ 1866; but as allthepupils at the school are day pu­ donß. pila,she continued toliveat home withher mother, From the Theatre Francais she went to the Gym­ who, it must be remembered, had had twelve chil­ nase,buton the second or thirdnight after her first dren, andin whose strange life poverty predominat­ appearance, she did not come to the theatre at all. When ed. Sarah was going to the Conservatoire, her Search was made everywhere in vain; the news­ mother used to give her onlysix sous a day to pay papers printed wonderful stories about fabulous en­ her omnibus. Sarah said nothing,but witha droll gagements in America. Meanwhile, Sarah was eating instinct of innate luxuryshe didnot take the omni oranges at Madrid. She had writtenaletter to M. CORA PEARL

A8A BALLET GIBL (FBOM PHOTOGRAPH FUHNISHED BT HZBSELF).

5

FOLLY'S QUEENS. 37

Labiche, the author of the piece in which she had tember of that terrible year of1870 sho conceived the been engaged toplay and ended itwith these words : idea ofestablishing an ambulance forthe wounded in 'Ayezpitied'une pauvre petite toquee!" ("Have the publicfoyer, or crush-room, of the Odeon Thea­ pityonapoor little crack-brained girl.") tre. With that nervous impetuosity which has al- This was Sarah's firstflight. When she returned to ways distinguished her, she at once set to work, and Paris she had some difficulty in getting «n engage- inforty-two hours she had twenty-two beds ready ment in any serious theatre. She had not yet forthe wounded, and akitchen and a drug store in shown any particular talent, and Bhe was knawn workingorder. All the expenses of this ambulance only for her freaks and escapades. The gossipy were borne by Sarah herself, and besides directing journals had related, with abundant details, how the infirmary she occupied herself withthe adminis­ she had twice poisoned herself, and how, oneach oo- tration ofthe ambulance, which, being amilitaryone, oasion, a savior had administered the necessary anti- was required to aend ina report every morning to dote. Doubtless there was littleor no truth inall the central hospital of Val-de-Grace. Sarah used to theso cancans, but still they sufficed to bring dis- watch anxiously over each ofher wounded. One day oredit upon her name. amobile named Fortin, who had been married only But,artiste as she naturally was, Sarah Bernhardi a few months, and who had a littleproperty in the could not live off the stage. She bored herself to environs ofParis, underwent a painfuloperation. In death, and finallyshe saved herself by an escapade order toperform it the surgeon administered chloro* more singular than allthe others. She engaged her- form. When the poor fellow awoke he turned to self at thePort Saint-Martin Theatre, in 1866, und«r Sarah.who had remained at hia bedside.and said.with a false name, toplay the part of the Princess Desi- his voice fullof emotien: "Never mind, M'am'selle ree. inthe "Biche auBois." Nobody recognized her Sarah, the Prussians, who are now perhaps burning but some of the critics praised her for the correct and myhouse out yonder, willnever eat allthe flsh inthe melodious manner inwhich she spoke a long piece Seine, and Ipromise you that my first matelott shall on the beauties of nature. In this piece she sang a be foryoul" duet withMme. Ugalde.and took part in the choruses Sarah Bernhardt was charming as an ambulanciere likea regular third-rate She wore dress, artiste. a blue bordered with swan's downj Itwas obvious that Sarah could not remain long and over italarge white apron, covering her breast •where she was. She longed for le grand art. She and coming down to her feet. went to the Odeon, then managed by Chilly and After the war, when the theatres reopened. Victor JDuquesnel. To the latter she said: "Ihave been Hugo's "Buy Bias" was revived at the Odeon, and shown thedoor everywhere/but try me. Iassure you the role ofthe weary and melancholy Queen was there is something there;" and she pointed, not to given to Sarah Bernhardt. After the very first act her brow,but to her breast . She was protected by Victor Hugo proclaimed her to be the very ideal the Academician, M. Camille Doucett, who had at Dona Maria. She had a delicate and sweet charm once divined her genius, and finally M.Suquesnel that even Bachel lacked. Inhis feuilleton on ths engaged her. She made her debut there on Moliere's event Sarcey says: "Mile. Sarah Bernhardt has re- birthday, Jan. 14,1867, as Armande in"Les Femmes ceived irom nature the gift of depressed and plaint- Savantes." But her first real success was in the irodignity. Allher movements are at once noble little role of Jbas in BathiU6's "Athalie." Her and harmonious; whether she rises or sits down, charming voice and perfect diction struck the au- whether she walks or makes a half turn round, the dience withadmiration. At the Odeon Sarah Bern- long folds of her dress with its silver threads fall hardt played a number of roles with varying success, around her withpoetic grace. Her voice is languish­ buther first reallygreat triumph was the roleof Za- ing and tender, her diction of a rhythmso just,and netto, inCoppee's "Passant," to which, as the author ofa clearness so perfect, that you never lose a sylla­ says, she lent "the prestige of her exquisite blonde ble even whon the words are only breathed over her beauty, and ofher talent so full of elegance and of lipslike a caress. And how she follows the undola­ grace." {This was in January, 1869.) The success of tioDßoi the period that rolls along and never breaks, Zanetto was immense, and Sarah was feted and ever keeping the flexible lines of its harmony 1 And lauded to the skios. Nobenefitperformance.no soiree* withwhat fine and penetrating intonations she marks wae complete unless Zanetto came and recited her certain words!" The critichas here given us the lovelyItalian romance. secret of Sarah's universal fascination; itis her plas- The Franco Prussian war came. Sarah Bernhardt tic grace. In "Hernani" her success reached its had suddenly become the idol'of the public. InSep apogee; and yet the role of Dona Sol, which aha 38 FOLLY'S QUEENS.

played, was as far as the number of versei were con­ in his pocket-book with a sigh of regret. cerned almost aminor role. She had, indeed, very Her debut at the Theatre Fiancais, in Dumas' littleto say,but she had to remain on the stage while "Kile,de Belle-Isle," was not successful. Then the the other actors were speaking. Her role was a silent war broke out around her once more with fresh one to a great extent; bat what a charm there was in vigor. Inentering the Comedie Francaise Sarah had the way she Bat, in the way she let her hand fall!She trodden on the toes ofmany people. When she first knows those movements of the arms, those inclina­ came there she had been ready with her hand; now tions of tho head, those quiverings of the shoulders, she was ready withher tongue. That frail "and ner­ those postures of tho foot and leg, which turn the vous creature, whohas taken forher motto Quand first ordinary bit of stuff that comeß into a fold of meme," tramples with joy and rage on all social marble in an Eginetan basrelief. conventions, and when once she has fairlystarted in The brilliancy ofSarah'a success in"BuyBias" at a fit ofanger or about ofscolding, she is,ungallant the Odeon attracted the attention of H.Perrin, who as the statement may seem, a perfect demon. She had begun his campaign for the renovation of the goes ahead as regardless of the blows that she gives hitherto indolent Comedie Francaise. But she did as of the blows that she receives. Well,after "Mile, not come to the Comedie Francaise at "one fell de Belle-lEle," Sarah tried roles in the ancient and ' swoop, as most of her biographers pretend. Itwan modera repertory, and each role was the occasion of indeed Bomo time before M. Perrin engaged her, for an epic battle in the newspapers. She succeeded at that time Sarah had a few fanatical admirers and fairly in "Phedre," and especially in Voltaire's a great many enemies. Tho fact is that up to then "Zaire," which was one of her triumphs; but her ehe had not shown an amount of talent which justi­ first really undisputed success was in• the role of fied the fuss made about her, and many people were Berthe de Savignv.in Octave Feuillet's Le Sphinx." irritated at hearing bo much about Sarah Bernhardt. After thiscreation Ehe became the idolof the picked Inthe press there was a storm of epigrams, and her public as wellas of the general public. The picked engagement at the Theatre Francois remained doubt­ publioconsists of the "good company," aristocrats' ful. Sarah had already set a large proportion of and high-born folk, who have abox at the Francais decent and quiet citizens against her by the eccen­ onTuesdays regularly all through the season. ItIs tricitleß ofher life,which to ordinary people seemed the same publicthat yo» and onsubscription nighti calculated, whereas in reality they were only the ex­ at the opera. Hitherto the habitues dcs mardis plosions ofher Bohemian genius. Her lodging was as they are called, had been rather hostile to, or at burned down, and the report at once became current least unsympathetic toward, Sarah. Having won that she had set firetoitinorder to get talked about. them over, her triumphwas complete. Henceforward Itwas about this time, too, that she conceived the she held the public and the connoisseurs under hey Idea of having ablack ebony coffin inherbedroom, spell. padded withwhite satin, and even of sleeping in it. Ineed not dwell upon her other citations— Youmay imagine the thousand and cne exaggerations Berthe, in "LaFillede Boland," the wonderful orea­ of tke idlers of theboulevard. Inshort, itwas thought tionof the blind old woman in "Borne Vaincue," that the whimsical Sarah was not worthy to become Cherubin in the "Marlage de Figaro," and Mrs. a member ofa society of such staid and sober tradi­ Clarkson to "L'Btrangere." OnNovember 21,1877, tions as the Theatre Francais,a veritable temple ofart, Victor Hugo's famous piece, "Hernani," was revived inwhich the actors give themselves theairs ofpriests at the Comedie Francaise, and Sarah Bernhardt'a in* and Levites. Alphonse Daudet, the novelist, never terpretation ofDona Sol spread her fame all over wearies ofscofiing at the airs of the actors of the Com. Europe; ithad already reached America. In Dona edie Francaise, "llsnejoumitpas." he says; "Us Sol, and subsequently in Marie de Neubourg, the officient-" ("They do not act; they officiate.") Sarah queen in "BuyBias," Sarah Bernhardt realized Vio­ was not fitted for the Comedie Francaise. She wai torHugo's ideal; she was a marvel of grace, of ten­ engaged, however. Then another difficultyarose. She dernesß, oflivingpoesy; her voice was music itself. had forgotten that she was bound foranother year at Henceforward no one disputed her glory. Benown the Odeon. The manager of that theatre didnot wish proclaimed her to be the greatest actresa of the tolose her, and claimed a forfeit. The legend says day, and people came from the endi of the earth to that Sarah, in a highstate ofsuperb wrath, stamped see her. on the floor ofher salon, and forthwith there sprang InMarch, 1878, Sarah Bernhardt was sick fora up the required number of thousand franc few days, and her role of Dona Sol was played, sat­ notes, which the manager of tho Odeon placed isfactorily enough, itis true, by Mile.Dudley. The «

M'LLE HOUGET, THE CONFIDANTE OF CORA FEtRL.

FOLLY'StS t QUEENS. 39

receipts fell. Mile.Dudley played the role again two amic, you are not nearly bo badly spoken of as my days afterward. The house was more than half mother." AsIhave already said, Sarah Bernhardt empty. There was great emotion among the mem­ isaBohemian to her very finger tips. She is ner­ bers of the Comedie Fr»ncaise, to whom this differ­ vous, eccentric, thoughtless, hot-tempered. She is ence brought the revelation ofa fact hitherto unob­ made up ofextremes. Her nature is one that makes served. The Comedie, and thepublic withit,had up her as many enemies as it does friends. One might to that day imagined— that the real force of the Thea­ filla volume withthe jokesand anecdotes that have tre Francaise ina word, its onlyprestige— layabovo been toldabout her and her habits. Iwill content ¦all inits ensemble, in the homogeneity oi its com­ myself withgivingsome idea of her normal wayof '.pany, and not in the isolated demonstration ofa per­ living. sonality, however brilliant it might be. At the Sarah's great predecessor, Bachael, bnilt herself Francaisno name is ever put en vedette. The play an infinitesimally small hotel inthe Rue Neuve dcs billis a littlebitof a brown sheet, about folio size Mathurlns. But what was Rachael's hotel by the on which the name of the play ia printed in letters side ofSarah Bernhardt's? It is a charming three about two inches high, and the names of the actors story villa of red brick, with stone facings, builtIn according to seniority or membership in capitals a semi-Renaissance style, and half hidden by ivy. about a quarter of an inch high. No actor's name Itis situated at the c rner oithe Avenue Villiers and has ever been printed in larger type than that since the Rue Fortuny,on the Honceau plainwhich oflate •the Francais began. Theperformance was given by years has become the lavorite dwelling-place of the "comedians in ordinary of theKing,"or by the wealth and talent. Sarah's neighbors are the paint­ "national comedians" or the "comedians of the re­ ers, Meissloner, Detaille and Duez, who have each public." Inshort, no actor of the company.not even built queer palaces in which they produce their Talma, had ever been acknowledged by any outward marvellous pictures. sign to be superior to his fellows. "Was then this On entering through the iron gate you find your antique soliditary—so eloquent a testimony oflegen­ self in a little gr jden. Tothe leftis a fishpond end dary prosperity— was it »t last broken? Afew days a little pavilion,the atelier de sculpture; to the after yardSarah Bemhardt.having recovered fromher right is a larger pavilion,comprising the painting indisposition, resumed her role, and the receipts at studio and dwellinghouse. Youapproach thehouse once rose. No more conclusive proof could be need­ by a flightofsteps en whichhalf a dozen dogs, dser­ ed of the great actress' holdupon thepeople. Never­ hounds, poodles and terriers of various sizes are al­ theless the other members of the Comedie began to ways reposing. Above the door is a cartoon with " feel jealous. the mottoof theirresistible hostess: Quand meme." The story of the visit of the Comedie Francaise to On thedoor sillis engraved the old Latiu welcome. London, of Sarah's prodigious artistic and social Salve. Before penetrating into the atelier-salon success there, of her quarrels with M.Perrin, ofher the visitor is shown into the little boudoir, the resignation as a societairo of the house ofMoliere, walls of which are adorned withsketches byGustave ofher second season inLondon, ofher visitto Brns­ Dore, water colors byGarvaai, and a large portrait sels,and ofher brilliant triumphm Copenhagen,does of Sarah by her friend Louise Abbema. The atelier- not need retelling. Before she left the Danish capi­ salon isa vast and lofty room, the size of whichis tal, the Kingwithhis own— hands decorated her with apparently diminished by the quantity and di­ ft gold medal of merit a distinction never before versity of objects whichitcontains. Youcould put granted to an actress. On her return to France. all Rachel's hotel inside Sarah's studio! It is the Sarah made abrilliant tour in the French provinces, talk ofParis, and only last autumn an exact copy of and gave performances in the principal towns. itwas putupon the stage of the Vaudeville Theatre Her starring enterprise wm entirely successful. to represent the atelier otFelicia Bkuos inAlphon­ Never, perhaps, has an actress excited such uni­ so Daudet'B play oi"Le Nahab." Itis fullofobjects versal curiosity, and never has talent and a strange of art of all kinds and of all epochs. There is personality met withmore br.lhant and flatteringre­ painting and sculpture, enamels and cameos, pano­ ception. plies and fans, tapestries and old stuffs, curiosities* One day as Sarah was complaining to thePrince of ofallhistories, even of natural history. There is a 'Wales about the severe comments of the press and portrait ofRachel and a portrait ofSarah Bernhardt. the wild and malicious gossip that was current about Here liesRachel 1for the portrait represents her in her, the Prince consoled her by saying: "Ma chere her last moments. Longlive Sarah Bernhardt |for 40 FOLLY'S QUEENS. the la painted in all her luxuriance as ifby the emperament, and she has several times in her life bands oflove. Was itnot painted as alabor of love? waked up thinking that she had missed her vo­ We see in thecomer the signature ofGeorges Clairin. cation. One day after she bad been playing therole Here and there are bahuts, cabinets, bronzes, a of a troubadour in Coppee's "Passant," she deter­ piano, old china, plants, flowers, a "throne" for mined tobecome arealtroubadour, and so the fron­ models, easels, canvases, tripods supporting the liv­ fron of the guitar resounded in her rooms from ing bronze and terra cotta. On the left a staircase morning until night. Then she thought that she leads to the private apartments and to Sarah's bed ought to become a sculptor. She ordered a white chamber, in which there stands a nicely polished flannel masculine costume, took a few lessons of skeleton admiring itself in a looking glass. The Mathie Meusnier, and began to model busts and skeleton has a face that looks remarkably like that of statues. The Becret of Sarah s success isher sincerity Eoudon's statue of Toltaire at the Comedie Fran­ and conviction. Gossips said that her sculpture was caise. Inthebedroom, too, is the ebony coffin pad­ done by her friends, as they afterward said that her ded withblue satin, as ifeven in death Sarah meant painting was done byGeorges Clairin—— a brother In tobe coquettish and poetic quand meme- art and in arms of Henri Begnault and Gustavo As foritsinhabitants, Sarah's house 1b likeNoah's Dore. But no; she handled the clay roughly with ark; itis the rendezvous of all the animals of crea­ her own hands. She is so much in earnest about it tion,not excepting monkeys and not excepting those that when she has once donned her masculine cos­ great-great-grandsons ofmonkeys, featherless bipeds tume and set toot inside her atelier, she becomes to and bearers of monster boquets. who are known by allintents and purposes Monsieur Sarah Bernhard t.. the name of qpmmeux, dandies, or pelils-maitres. In the Salon of i876 she exhibited a remarkable The woman who is the object of allthis curioßity group, "Afterthe Storm," and since then she has ex­ and allthis admiration is a frail-lookingand delicate hibited busts of H. de Lapommeraye, the dramatic creature, with brilliant eyes and teeth and beautiful critic,ofEmile de Girardin, ofAlbert Wolff,ofLouisa wavygolden-blonde hair. Her nose isslightlyaqui­ Abbema, of Serpent floff,and others, which show a. line, and her face thinand almost bony. Her whole veryremarkable amount oftalent. She 1aB also carv­ physiognomy has a strange fascination. She is tall ed a large allegorical statue of Music for the new and thin, very thin, and from coquetry or eccentric­ opera house at Monaco. ityshe has always dressed so as to exaggerate this Appetite, it is said, comes in eating. No sooner exiguityof her person, which has been an inexhaust­ had Sarah begun to model inclay than she conceived ible source ofjokes. During the Exhibition of1878, adesire to paint. Her master in painting was Alfred when she used to go up in the captive balloon about Stevens. She exhibited ?nd sold several of her twice a day, it was said that she entered it paintings while in London, and at the Salon this by means of a spiral staircase inside the rope. year she exhibited a strange allegory of"A Young In a unique book which she wrote apropos of her Girl and Death," which, ifnot a very remarkable billoon adventures, "Dans les Mirages," she herself painting or a very gay subject, had at least the relates how in a rainstorm that surprised them she merit ofbeing as originalas the woman who painted did not get wet; her slenderness enabled her to piss it. between the tailing drops. In dress, both at home The activity and energy ofSarah Bernhardt is phe­ and on the stage.Sarah is always original.always clad nomenal. Tolook at her you would think that she in black or white, she seems to wear perpetual had not the strength of a fly. From time to time she mourning. Her note paper is edged withaslate-col­ suffers hemorrhage from the throat. But she never ored mourning band. There is perhaps a great grief gives up. She rises early andgoes tobed late. Ifan at the bottom of her existence of incessant move­ idea comes toher at night she willget up and go to ment. Ican, Ithink,hardly be accused of indiscre­ work. She is all nerves; a nature of indomitable tionifIliftthe corner of the veil,and whisper tha courage,and a "good fellow" to boot, ifImay be al­ name of the great painter, HenriBegnault, who died lowed the expression. All her admirers, and she like a hero in 1871, fighting against the Prussians. has had many, including the immortal Victor This cult ofa genius that resembled in some points Hugo, find a good word to say for her. She her own explains many of the strange symbols of has inspired great passions, and felt them her death that surround her inher dailylife. self. Ihave spoken tboveofSarah Bernhardt's artstudies. In spite of her feverish activityand her multifar­ She has, indeed, all the aspirations of an artistic loub occupations, Sarah finds time to receive friend* BETRAYED AND CAST OUT.

FOLLY'S QUEENS. 41

by the dozen, to hold a little court, to patronize as­ Bohemian princess. She knows how to be the queen piringpoets, to go to the races, to the exhibitions, to ofa salon; no one has finer and more aristocratic) allthe sights of the Parisian season, and, above all, manners than she has, and no one better than she to contract aheap of debts and sometimes topay an Bhow that impertinent haughtiness which was the them. She is a Bohemian, ifyon lite,but she is a characteristic of the duchesses of the grand siecle.

CHAPTER XI. THE FAVORITE OF A. TTKANT. No one who has been in St. Petersburg within the ceßs was 20 weread of that second court,at the Winter last fiveyears can failtohaTo seen driving on the Palace, that third-story cabinet, where the statesmen Neveski Prospect abeautiful pale woman, withlarge and men of letters gathered about the table of the black eyes, dressed in sables which were wortha most clever and most devoted friend of the Emperor, prince's ransom, and guarded by two magnificent the young and beautiful Dolgorouki. Itis a singu­ dogs, who sat on either aide ofher like twin guar­ lar commentary upon the morals ofRussia that the dians, whom it wouldbe dangerous todisturb. This Princess Dolgorouki kept her place at the court of was the Princess Dolgorouki,and these dogs the fa the Empress,,and was lady in waiting toher to the mouß wolf-hounds from Siberia, trained to docile end of her life,not only inname, but in reality. It submission, which had been given to the Princess has been whispered that theEapress was not alto­ by her imperial lover,the Czar. Nothing more ro­ gether displeased at the liaison. Poor woman, mantic than the love which this wom:n felt for the she may have thought itmighthave been worse. Be man Alexander 11., ever appears in history. She first that as itmay, we can not gauge the morals or the saw him at her school, the imperial school of which sensibility of royal personages. The tact remains the Czaris the head, just out of St.Petsrsburg. He that the Emperor dearly loved and greatly respected ¦was notonly her Emperor, her chief,but he was the the Princess Dolgorouki. most beautiful ofmen, and the young girl from that As forthe Princess' love forAlexander, itwas poet­ moment worshipped him. One of her schoolgirls ical. Findingout byher woman's wit many a plot overheard her saying in her prayers: "Forgive me, against him, she saved his life a hundred times. oh, Lordl iiIlove him first." Many a Russian believes that she outwitted the She had shown such extraordinary talents that at Grand Duke Constantine, always hisbrother's enemy, the last examination tie Czar was asked to place on in his plots against him. The Emperor, like all her head the chaplet of white roses, which belonged haunted men and threatened men, had a passion for to the successful scholar. When she approached walking alone, frequenting for this purpose a nar­ him,and devoutly kneeling,received from the im­ row street behind the Winter Palace. Often this de­ perialhand the crown of fragrant flowers, and with voted woman followed him in men's clothes, and bis honor, the smile, so beautiful and tender, for twice warded offan assassin's dagger. Had he taken which Alexander 11. was renowned, she fainted, and her advice, he would be alive now, forshe was warn­ fall into the arms of a school friend. The event ed by one of her sleepless emissaries ofhis danger, deeply touched the heart of the Czar, who admired and hung about his neck to prevent his going out on her from that moment. This fresh, tender wor­ that fatalSunday, but he would go. ship had an inexpressible charm for tho powerful General and Mrs. Grant visited the Emperor and sovereign. his morganatio wife at Livadia, and the strange When Bhe entered society, itwas as the guest of comment of our great soldier upon this strangely her sister-in-law, already the favorite of the Czar. happy pair was that they were "justlike Americans." She saw, poor girl,that to be the favorite of the Czar Acertain homely simplicity was dear to these titled waß to command the respeot of one's dearest and people who had been swamped in etiquette and lux­ nearest relatives.to be worshipped by the priesthood, uryalltheir days, and the Czar and his wife and two tobe almost canonised by the people. The Czar was beautiful children received the ex-President at their bo much above ordinary mortals! Her rank and Summer Palace with great simplicityand cordiality. beauty called her to court, and she became ladyin Tolirewith this woman alone away from Bussia waitingto the Empress, and as such in that corrupt was always the dream of the Emperor. Many a time court was renowned for her modesty, purity and he proposed to her to resign his power into the bands circumspect conduct. Itsoonbecame apparent that olhis son, to thwart the assassins, and end his life theCzar had eyea onlyforher, and before the Prin­ inpeace. But the Princess, was, whftt the Empress 42 FOLLY'S QUEENS.

had never been, an enthusiastic Russian. The good she did. That she had, in breaking a great moral ofRussia was her passion. To her advice thousands law,no right or title to the respect of the world, ofgood works can bo traced in those provinces where perhaps affords one reason for respecting her the tho stillimperialseverity of the Government presses moro, that she strove otherwise to do well forhu­ hard on the liberated serf. Itwas this grandeur of manity, and forgreat ideas; we must praise her that character, thisphilanthrophy, which so endeared the she didnotUße her great power toinduce the Czar Czar to the Princees, and which wasso strong abond, toenrich her orher relatives, that she didnot advise andso lasting a one, inchaining him toher. For the acts of cruelty, or the punishment of those who man who had the courage to free thirtymillions of wereher enemies. serfs must have been a philanthrophist rather than "The whole life of the Princess," said one who anything else. Yet, as allknow, who have seen the know her well,"was devoted to the good of Russia, evils resulting from the experience of freeing slaves, the happiness of the Czar, and although they didnct and can well appreciate thechange from serfdom to know it,to the permanent welfare of the royal fam­ freedom, this giftbrought a long chain of evils to ily." Russia. Nothingis so difficultoi attainment as the She had, lilce a faithless, cultivated woman, but power to bear sudden freedom. Prosperity intoxi­ one who hold her own ignoble position towards a cates; the man who goes into self-ownership from monarch, NellGwynn,a good heart; and ifChelsea slavery isnot fitted, to work forhimself immediately. Hospital still points toMrs. Eleanor as its founder, We who have seen the free negroes lounging hundreds of such institutions willclaim f r their about 'Washington, and finally starving— wo who benefactress a prayer of mercy in the name of that have seen the negro as a legislator,know what itis. Prlncecs who was driven fromRussia twohours after Fortunately fcrus the negro was not bloodthirsty; the death ofher husband; aprayer for the Princess the Cossack was. Bo when Alexander had taken off Dolgorouki. thechains he unloosed a tiger whoso teeth were later The marriage of the Czar to the Princess, four to fasten in his own flesh. Itis the consummate months after the death oi the Empress, shocked all flower oi tyranny that the good and beneflcient son the world; itlooked likeabrutal indifference topub oftyrants expiates their past crimes. lie decency. No one asked or cared whether the In this dilemma and deluge of trial the Princess Czarina had made her husband happy or not. She Dolgorouki,aborn Russian, and aborn clever politi­ was a good and religious woman, and he owed her cian, as many a woman of her race has been before the reßpect ofa year's mourning. But on the other her, was ofinfinite service to theCzar. Someday hand, the rules of the Greek Church permit marriage willbe given to the worldher advice to the Czar in in four months after the death of the husband or regard to his treatment of that great national party wife,and the Czar had fearful forebodings as to his which com} rises the best of Russian middle-class own tenure of existence. He desired to reward the Bociety. It was she who mitigated the horrors of woman who had been so faithfulto him and toBus* Siberia. It was to the morganatic wife of the Czar sia.he desired tobe reconciled to Godand theChurch. that the politicalprisoner looked for clemency and He, no doubt, felt apang ofconscience as he remem­ possible pardon. bered the pure brow on whose white dome he had Her accomplishments are— said to be verygreat; not first placed the schoolgirl wreath. We do not expect onlymistress of languages that is universal inRus­ Jupiter to have much pitylorSemele, but his impe­ sia—bet mistress ofhistorical and potitical learning rialheart may have been conscious of a twinge. It of all kinds. The PrinceEß Dolgorouki spent her was too much, to ask of a Russian woman that she time in study and in cultivating music, for which should have been strong enough to resist his love she had great talent. Her intelligence and refine­ when her father confessor, her mother, her priest, ment ledher to the study ofItalian history and lan­ her father, her brother, would have knelt to her to guage, and her fnendihip for certain distinguished beg oiher toreceive it. Italians have been the solace of her troubled Then her own heart, desperately wicked, no doubt, career. the heart ofa lovingwoman, young, beautiful, gifted For tobe loved by the Czar was aterrible distino and elevated, had betrayed her. She has received tion; of course his children— hated her, and the her punishment, no doubt, sin-icorched as italways brothers and nephews excepting the Grand Duke does. We may agree witholdCalvin that sinners de­ Nicholas, who was the truest friend of the murdered serve roasting, and we must go further and observe Gear— «ll,allplotted to ruinher, and to undo what that both saints and sinners get it,whether they de­ POLLY WALTON, THE VICTIM OF A FALSE STEP.

— FOLLY'S QUEENS. 43 serve itor not we do not find the saints any hap­ see her, as lie was brought, mangled and bleeding, pier than the sinners forthat matter— but withall to the Winter Palace. She stood at his bedside until her sin, wemust pitythis woman; we must see her the new Czar arrived; he, with one strong pitiless1 inallthe enforced humiliation ofa state ball, where hand, pushed her into an adjoining room. half the company looked at her with averted eyes, The first act of his reign was to banish her from while the other halffollowed the lovingeyes of the Bnssn. Czar, who always ordered her to dance in the set Wo know not what kind friend took the insensible next to the royal cotillon,and who distinguished her woman incharge, bet we do krow that in fifty-eight on these occasions by speaking toher twice; while at hours she was inVienna. We do know that ofall the her feet sat the royal Chamberlain, obedient toher millions who saw the dead Emperor lyingin state, slightest wish. We must sco her in that summer the woman whom he loved thebeat, his wife, wha*­ palace, withfinallythe husband ofher heart wholly ever her faults may have been, was the onlyone not at her feet withher twobeautiful children playing permitted to kiES his dead hand. about her. We must follow that lofty intellect and In this piece of cruelty the Emperor Alexander that courageous devotion to the Czar through the 111. will probably bo praised by severe moralists, enormous labor that she imposed upon herself inhis but there willbe here and there a tender heart, service. Allhis private correspondence, allher own, hating the sin but not the sinner, who willthink much ofitdone byItalians who knew no Russian, differently. much ofit with the head ofaNihilist organization— At any rate, looking,as wemust, upon all the de­ who little suspected who was his correspondent flections from moral law, with the eyes of thesinner but who betrayed toher even the fatal plotby which himself, we may wellbelieve that the Princess Dol­ the Emperor Iqpt his life,or so far warned her that gorouil considers her love for the Czar the virtue of— she was wretched. her life. She m«yhave been very— much mistaken Itwas in vain that she hung about Alexander's woare all apt tomake mistakes but she was true to neck on that fatalSunday morning,and begged of her lights, as a Russian and a loving woman. She him uot to go out. The hour of destiny had arrived haa expiated her virtue or her crime, as the case may and the Czar was obstinate. She had saved his life be, withthe most horrible sufferings that the human who knows howmany times byher sleepless vigilance heart can know. She has lost that smile that so and she could save itno longer. dazzled her inher schooldays, she has lost the father The woman who loved him best was warned, and ofher beautiful children, she has lost her place in sat tremblinguntil the dreadful news was brought the world, she is an exile and a broken-hearted toher. His dyingeyes were once more permitted to wife,so wecan afford, poor woman, topityher.

CHAPTEK XII.

OAPTtmTNO A fringe's HEABT.

The French capital Ib,as everybody knows?, the more, they must have experience to portray the birth-place and chosen home of opera bouffe, which various phases of life which enter into composition, expresses certain phases of lifeinthat city;itsmock­ of opera bouffe. Since itsintroduction to the world ery,its gaiety, its sarcasm, its wild recklessness, its it has been very fortunate in having women license, as no other kindof performance does or can. thoroughly imbued with its spirit,to stand sponsors The wittyand wicked, the indecorous and defiant for it. One of the first of these was Hortense spirit ofunconventional women and rapid men, who Schneider. She began life as a flower girl, and consider Paris the Paradise in which their natures managed to p:'ck up an experience which served her can revelunrestrained, find a delighf, in the music excellent well inher subsequent career as a boufflst. ofOffenbach and Lecocq. Itharmonizes with the She gained her feme inthis line in1867. the year of sinfulpart ofman's nature, soothe the bruised spots theExhibition, when thousands flocked to see her and exhilarates the parts which hare not yet been "Grand Duchesse." During that time she had numbed into insensibility bydebauchery. princes and dukes at her feet, and was as reckless a Itisnatural to expect that the interpreter ofopera heart-breaker as ever livedinParis, which is saying bouffe should bo insympathy and spirit with the a good deal. She was born at Bordeaux, her parents feelings which this class of musio portray. Further­ were laborers of German descent, and very early 44 FOLLY'S QUEENS. evinced a predilection for tne stage. She waß very Most people would spend a few days in wearing precocious, and is reported to have begun having black and simulating sorrow over the demise ofa lovers when barely thirteen. Heroccupation brought friend as generous as that. Hortense was not made her into contact withmen and women who were in a ofsuch .hypocritical stuff. She solaced herself by position to advance her in life. They were pleased looking after somebody Just as liberal us the with the beauty and vivacityof thelittle flower-girl, Duke. and Boon gave her an opportunity to go on the stage. The story goes that her search was not a longnor She made her debut at alocal theatre and won ap­ a fruitless one. She captured the Prince of Wales, plause. An old professor of music was so then a young man, who was sowing a crop of wild delighted with the talent she evinced that oats which wouldhave been, ifdividedup, sufficient he took her in charge and gave her lessons for fiveor six ordinary young men. free of coßt. She proved an apt pupil, and after "Hifthere's hanything 'is 'Ighness dotes on and some years ofprovicial engagements arrived inParis. admires hits a beautiful woman," say his country­ She strove to get into the Varieties, but was unsuc­ men, and his career in his youthful days certainly cessful. The company of the Bouffes Parisiens was proves that his future subjects know what they're then makingup ;she was given a place there and she talkingabout. was cordially liked,not to say loved, by her audi­ Wales met Schneider at a wine supper, was intro­ ences. She had great vivacity,humor, abandon and duced to her and became infatuated at once withher what the French callbeauty of the devil,meaning the witand beauty. He went to the theatre and saw her sort that plays havoc withmen's senses and purses. play the "Grand Duchesse." That pleased him more She gained so many laurels that after one or two than ever. He cultivated her acquaintance, and at seasons the Varieties were glad to secure her at a the end of Bixmonths was out (or rather the British very much larger salary than she would have been Government was) £10,000. satisfied with when she first made her fruitless applU She was luxurious inher tastes and prodigal ofher cation. money. Itcame easy, and she let itgo withaliber­ Not long after she shone at thePalais Boyal, each alitythat fairlyastonished allwith whom she dealt. new part she assumed augmenting her reputation. She used tobe » rivalof the Empress Eugenicincos She went back to the Varieties In a year or so, and tumes, pending iv one year forgorgeous raiment created a furore as the heroine of"La Belle Helene," not less than $100,000. She ownedsplendid diamonds, to which she was signally fitted. She looked the very rubies, emeralds, horses, carriages, town and country embodiment ofuxurial disloyalty,and the man who houses and equipments fit fora princess. would trust her out ofhis sight ifhe was fond ofher Her entertainments were not one whitless magnif­ would have been amuff. AllParis roared at her icent than those held at the Tuileries. She believed "Helene" and despised "Menclau" nearly as much as in esselling everything about her, and generally the deceived husband is despised inreal life. While managed to accomplish that end. in the hey day of this popularity Schneider had more Inmany ways she was very eccentric. Liberal one than her share ofaffairs of the heart. Her favor was day towards objects of charity, the next as parsi­ particularly sought after bysome of the wealthiest monious as amiser. She took pride in doing just ncblemen ofParis, and wherever she bestowed itit contrary to what the people expected of her, fancy­ cost the recipient dear. The first unfortunate was ingthat by so doing she showed her independence the Duke of Caderousse Orammont. The term un­ ofpwblieopinion, and that such a course made her fortunate is used advisedly, for every male admirer the equal ofan autocra'ic queen. ofgay Hortense suffered greatly in finance through Everything must have its day. Schneider had her acquaintance, and had the added pain of being hers. She began to lose favor with the public as a cast off when his exchequer was depleted. bouffiflt. Bivals came forward who possessed a Byone of those happy strokes of good luck which younger and freßher beauty. Paris is easily weaned, spem almost providential, theCuke died before he itloves novelty, because it is novelty; disposes of could spend all hiimoney on Hortense and then be one sensation and demands another. Schneider had made to realize how sharper than a serpent's tooth to give way before these characteristics of her coun­ isa lovely and frail woman's ingratitude. His ad­ trymen, when she found that her magic wand had miration of her continued up to the day of his lost its power to charm she leftParis and went to death, and he signalized itbyleaving her a legacy of England. From there to Braziland thence back home 60,000 francs. intoretirement. She speculated recklessly instocks PRINCESS DOLGOUKOUKI. (MORGANATIC WIFE OF THE LATE AIiEXANDEE in. OF BUBSIA.? 6

FOL.LY'S QUEENS. 45

of the Bourse, and stopped just in time to save a nown—she kickoi opera bouffe withher; she kicked competence. I!millions of fraces into the coflers of her manager; Acable dispatch a few months ago in one of the she kicked in the faces of a parquet ofkings and journals of this city informed the public that the mighty personages in1867, when all the worldcamu one* wealthy and beautiful opera bouffe queen had toParis to the Exhibition. Napoleon 111. was kicked been obliged to auction effher furniture and anum- into as violent a fitof love as was possible to his ber ofjewels, which she had kept as souvenirs ofher rather placid temperament. Rich bankers, too, were prosperous days, to keep the wolf from her door. kicked into such ferviddevotion that Schneider, who At fifty years of age she his nothing left but re- began poor and frowsy, took on the airs and state morse. "Whoknows what the end ofher wild career ofaprincess. Her fat breiat and arms and Juno­ may he? likeneck were plastered with diamonds. She might Apropos of the auction a foreign correspondent have eat for a study of the jollygiantess in all the writes as follows: toggery of a queen. No one ever pretended to call TheSchneider sale of jewelry,which tookplaoe last her well favored. Itwas the kick that didit. Words woek in Paris, has attracted unnsnal attention be- can give you an idea of the unctuous, inviting,inde­ cause ofthe whimsical career ofits owner. Schneider, scribable fervor of this short, easy liftof the right who isnot now,and from her appearances, never was leg, whichcame in to accentuate certain broad sug­ • text; a beauty, brought allParis to her feet in 186S by gestions— ofthe " often as she didit the house trick ofher own inportraying the lascivious humors roared declared it Dachic." Inevery part she waa of Offenbach's seductive heroines. She invented a inflesh a mountain and inmirth a fountain, but it libidinous lurch of the leg which convulsed Paris, was the kiok that carried the day. Her fortunes de- Which stimulated the world to such an ex ent that clined with tho empire. Bismarck's criticisms on the little, third-rate summer theatre in the Elysian the sensuality of the French fora time had their fields when "LaBelle Helene" first warbled her in- effect andit was voted that theSardanopalian ogries effable dooble-entendres became too small. She may of the empire should be foregone while young France be said absolutely to have kicked her way into re- was pullingitself together for the 'revanche."

CHAPTEB XIII.

XIJOX YXLVXBTON'S WZFX.

Many years ago, or to be more precise, in1860, oc- portion ofhis history until sometime after the wed' curred one of the most memorable and aimportant ding),was the result of their efforts as well. She trials that ever occupied the attention- ofthe Dublin had a large fortune and Mayor Yelverton had noth­ courts. ingbut his pay. The plaintiff was a beautiful and highlyaccom- Miss Teresa Longwortb, the lady he thus stigma­ plished lady;the defendant was an officer of the tized, had been twice married to him,once by the Englisharmy and the son of anIrish peer, who was Scotch and again by the Irish law. Their marriage himself aBritish officer. was kept secret because of the fear lest his family The celebrated suit in question was brought by a learn ofitand disinherit him. He was the heir ap­ gentlefnan against Major Yelverton for a sum of parent to the Avonmore peerage and an officer inthe money due for the board* at his wife, Mrs. Teresa artillery,and Miss Longworth was not a member of Yelverton. The major had made the arrangement the nobility. He was simply Captain Yelverton with this gentleman to entertain his wife, and was when she met him,but in a few years he became sued for failing to meet his obligations. Meantime major, and previous to his death he- assumed the he had deserted his wife and married again. He de- titleofLoriAvonmore. nied that he had ever married her, and claimed that Mrs. Yelverton was ofhigh position ;she was the she had lived with him as his mistress. That he youngest daughter of Mr. Thomas Longworth of " went through the forms of the ceremonies to ease Smedley House, Lancashire. Her mother died when her conscience," and that he had no thought of she was very young, and she was sent to Paris to be makingher his wife. Itwas thought that his family educated. Her ancestors were of the Roman Cath­ caused him to take the step he did, and that his olic faithand she was educated ina convent. marriage toMrs. Forbes (whidid not know of this The acquaintance between the two commenced in 46 FOLLY'S QUEENS.

1852, on the English Channel. Miss Longworthhad toIreland after he had returned there, te beremar­ been visiting an elder sister, who was married to a ried by a Catholic priest. Up to this time and sub­ chief justice of France, and was introduced to Cap­ sequent to the marriage, which was performed by the tain Yelverton bysome friends who saw her aboard parish priest of Kostrevor, with'the consent of th* the steamer. When she arrived at her journey's end bishop, she believed him to be a Roman Catholic another sister, who was to meet her, missed the Miss Longworthmade her first mistake in agreeing train, and Captain Yelverton offered his services to to keep the matter private. They traveled through get a cab and take her to the residence of her sister Ireland together and went to Scotland, and at the inLondon. Ina few days he called at the house and trialthe various travelers' books in public places iawher. were offered as evidence to prove that he wrote her The acquaintance was kept up through corre­ name everywhere as Mrs. Yelverton. Their pass­ spondence, both having evidently been greatly at­ ports were taken out in his name, and they intro­ iracted to each other. Miss Longworth spent two duced each other to their friends as husband or wife, years in Italy,and when her education was com­ as the case mightbe. pleted she returned toFrance. That was in the year The letters writtenbyMajor Yelverton to her when 1365, a year memorable inFrance, when young ladies absent from her were read at the trial,and at the ofrank went as sisters of mercy to the Crimea, to time created agreat deal of sympathy for her. The uurso the sick of the allied armies. Miss Longworth warm hearted Irish people looked upon her as the went witha party ofladies on this errand, and was most abused of her sex. Through tha longdiys of at Malta forsix months or more. the trial the court-room was constantly crowded and Inallthis time sbe had not met Captain Yelverton, a great array of witnesses came from far and near to who was stationed at Malta, but was inEngland at testify forand against the defendant. When allthe that time. 'When he returned to his regiment he testimony was inand the arguments had been fin­ offered Mbhand toher. ished the jury was abßent only an hour, When their For a time there was a happy companionship be­ verdict was reached. tween them, forthey were eng:ged to be married, On its delivery, which was in favor of Mrs. Yelver­ and tbe beautiful girl was ardently and deeply at­ ton, the excitement was of the wildest description. " tached to the young officer. The latter proposed a According to aDublin editor, millions were filled secret marriage on the ground that his father would withgladness, pride andexultation when theylearned oppose his marriage, and he was dependent upon theresult." Outside the courts thousands of people him. Miss Loneworth was not to be led into this had congregated, and as soon as the news was an­ arrangement, and broke the engagement. nounced the horses were instantly taken from the She went to the Crimea with an officer's family, coach which was waiting for Mrs. Yelverton to con­ and again met Major Yelverton, whom she had not vey her to her hotel, and down the quays, lined with seen for some months. He again proposed a secret people, was drawn in triumphal procession. Allthe marriage and was refused. efforts of the police were unavailing, and the ex­ Misß Longworth returned to her sister in Wales. cited people about her carried the little ladyup the She was extremely beautiful at this time. Her Eng­ stairs of the hotel and on to the balcony, where she lish complexion and glorious wealth ofbrightbrown could be seen by all. She was crying and had to be hair ;her large blue eyes and exquisite figure were supported, but soon realizing the generous kindness in the perfection of their charms, and she wasknown of the people, she advanced to the railingand in an or her beauty where she was unknown personally. eloquently pathetic canner thanked them fortheir Major Yelverton, desperate'y enamored of her and kindness. She assured them that through all her unhappy inhis exile,obtained a leave of absence and lifeshe should love the people of Dublin,and no fallowed her. She was at Edinburgh during the doubt she kept her word. When she spoke of the "Winter season and he was at her side constantly. He time cf triumph afterward it was with great emo­ persisted inhia appeal toher tobe married secretly. tion,and to a naturo like hers the attention of the Z\\o refussd again and again. One day he induced people were notlikelyto be effaced from her mem­ I:er tolet himread the Church of England marriage ory. -crvice toher, and when he had completed ittoldher Major Yelvertonhad married the Hon. Mrs. Forbes .fjatin Scotland this constituted a marriage. previous to this time, and he appealed the case. It She returned to her sister in Wai's, and was was reviewed in anEnglish court and the verdict of claimed there byhim as hi3wife snd induced to go the Irish court was set ande. OBIME HAUNTED.

FOLLY'S QUEENS. 47

Broken hearted and mined inhealth, Mrs.Yelver­ that she was associated withthe trial in the minds ton leftEngland forever and came to America. From ofeveryone in the rooms, and that she was being first tolast she never Bpoke an unkind word of the judgedby what the papers had Baid about her and man who mined her life,and daring the trial she not by what she really was. As for myself Itriedin once protested that he was not what the lawyers every way to make her feel at home and happy, and were makinghim out ;that he had never spoken un­ she seemed and was grateful. She was interested in kindlyto her or nsed harsh measures withher. the children present, and asked many questions con­ She was twenty-eight years old at this time and cerning them, remarking at the same time that she her countenance was a highlyintelligent one. She didno' know much ofchildren or their ways. When was evidently bright and onimated by nature, but several persons had entertained the company with sho never lost the look of deep sadness that settled music she was asked to play, and, to my surprise, ¦upon her faca after the trial. Itwas the end of her consented. AsIaccompanied her to the piano, she lifsto her, and though she lived many years after, said, 'Ido not like to play for company, but my she was not the same person. fingers have been aching to get at this instrument ; After she left England, in 1865, she came toNew itis afine one.' Then she played, and Icould bat York, and was for some time in this oity. She made half enjcy her beautiful performance, because Ifelt the acquaintance of many persons, and was much sorry forsome of myguests who had been playing. admired for her loveliness of person and ofmanner Compared to her they wereamateurs of the most in­ and her great accomplisnments, for she was really fantile kind. She played Schubert and Beethoven an accomplished woman. Her conversational pow­ music, the former grandly,and at some one's request ers were fine, and her cnlture was broad. She had several of Gounod's popular compositions. She been carefully and thoroughly trained at school, and talked of the master composers after she had con her association withcultivated people and her varied eluded, and Ihad never heard any one up to that advantages had enabled her to become what not all time play so well. Since then Ihave heard allthe women who are credited with being accomplished great performers, and Isuppose Ishall prove myself are— thorough. Her finemind was a pleasure to all her mad admirer by saying that she played with who met her, and her lovelyface endeared her to greater intelligence, in my humble opinion, than those who knew her after she had passed through Eeßlpoff. Perhaps withnot the same finish,but cer­ the sorrow ofher life, and was saddened and sub­ tainlywithlike skilland more k'eship with the soul dued byitto a painfuldegree. of the composer. Dainty as were her hands, they Alady who entertained her the Winter she was in were wonderfullystrong, and strength seemed to be New York,indescribing her to friends, spoke of her a characteristic of her body as well as of her mind. thus enthusiastically : After she h*d played one selection— lforget now "She was invited to ipend an evening with us, in what it was—she sat quite still tor a time,looking company with Dr. , to whom she had brought dreamily into the fire, and Baid: 'Iplayed that letters of introduction, and consented to do so, badly;Ishall not play Ltezt again :llozirt auits though we had not called. We were to have com­ me far better than Liszt now.' She was peculiar in pany, and wanted our friends to meet her, and at the her moods, and showed in that evening's conversa­ same time to show her attention. She came, and Ition that she had barely escaped the trial Bhe had was the first to greet her. Iwas never so surprised gone through withher lifeand strength of mind un­ as when the doctor Baid that the little creature at his impaired. Itook Buch a fancy to her that Iurged side was Mrs. Yelverton. Had he introduced me to a her to remain inNew York,but she said she longed girlof twelve as she, Ishould not have been more toget to the West. She wanted to be in the wilder­ astonished. The little creature was muffled in a fur ness, and where she would not hear the sound of s> clock and had a white scarf about her head, and cultivated voice or see the faces of friends for•long looked as small as a child. Inoticed whenItookher time. She was morbid, and it was useless to reason hand tho emaUness.of it, and when she had laid withher. As Ilooked at her fragile form clad ina aside her wraps and sat at the fire,her upturned feet short, dark blue velvet dress, and noted the exquisite were as dainty as a doll's. She did not look at all taste and refinement she exhibited in her manner like the person Ihad imagined, and Itold her so. and appearance, Icould bnt grieve that she was de­ Herface was crimson in a moment, and she said qui­ termined upon her course. She had some money, ' etly, Iwould appear more like myself, ifIhad tome and was not likelyto be in need of means, but sev­ other name.' She seemed painfullyaware of tho fact eral ofher new found friend*tried toprevailuponher 48 FOLLY'S QUEENS.

toremain inNew York and teach music. Her voice as these: "O, that yearning look for the beloved " was arich contralto, so the doctor said, but Idid form for which we hunger I" How many starve* not hear her sing. Itwas a musical one in conver­ to death when the last look has been taken." "There sation and was evidently highly cultivated. She are long and terrible days before Tap before grief went toMissouri and bought a stock farm, had as shall have exhausted nature." companions anumber ofdogs, and for several years Major Yelverton resigned from the army and may livedabsolut elyalone in her house. The only peo­ have liveda happy lifeinEngland ;he certainly was­ ple she saw were those she employed, and they little entitled to the love ofhis family, for strangers, par­ understood why so beautiful and so young a lady ticularly those who saw the fair, sweet-faced woman- should livethe life she did. She has never returned he drove from her native land, hated and detested to New York." him forhis desertion and persecution of her. And " "While inMissouri she wrote a novel entitled Za­ withthat class that believed inher he blackened the nita ;a Tale of the Yosemite." Itwas rather a pretty black came ofroue, and made so loathsome Ub foul* story, but ono that attained to no fame. Itistoo nees that themajority of men condemned him inlife heavily weighted withthe impress of her own sor­ and indeath. rows. One can findthroughout it such expressions Madame Yelvetton died recently in New Zealand-

OHAPTEB XIV.

THE AMXBICAKBEIiE WHO SOLD HKBSELF FOB A TITLE.

American women have always had a very danger own. They were seen together at all hours. Wher­ ous penchant for foreign ma'.cbcs. Just what this ever he went she accompanied him. There was, foolish fancy Isapt to lead to inabout nine cases out »1parently, nothingin this to shock the moral ideas of ten has been sadly illustrated in the case of Mrs. of certain fashionable English-speatiag people in Annie Wotmore, once a New York society leader and this city,for Mrs.Wetmore and her noble paramour belle. had many friends who continued to callupon them, InJuly,1880, several residents in Paris received precisely as ifthey were ignorant of the illegalman­ the tollowingfuneral notice ; ner in which the couple were living. But withins. Vous efces prie d'assister au service funebre de Ann year Lord Henry Paget's jealousy had compelled ElizaWetmore, nee Dougherty, decedee rue Chateau­ his mistress to give up her old acquaintances, and 1880, a de ans. briand, 12 le 21Juiliet, Page 33 guisei se from that time up to the moment of her death, she- foront leSamedi Slcourant, alO heures precises, >i been en l'Englise Americaine, rue Bayard, 17. On Sen­ is said to have true and faithful to him in all renmra a l'Englise. I/inhumaiion euro lien a St. things. Lord Henry, itis claimed, had promised her Germain-en-Laye. that if she would only obtain a divorce from her It waa a summons to the funeral of a woman who, husband, he would forthwith make her his lawful heart broken and unhappy, had taken her own life wife. With a view to obtaining a legal separation, because her noble lover, the Marquis of Anglesey, she communicated with Mr.Wetmore, and that gen» had not onlydeserted her and loft her almost penni­ tleman, in due course, brought a suit against his less, buthad married another woman. wife fordivorce on the ground of adultery and de­ The story of this sad romance is anything but sertion. Thecourt granted him a divorce, but per­ in favor ofLord Henry Paget. Lord Paget's second mitted their only child, a eon, to live with the wife was a MissBojd,whose people are Australians, mother. but who now livein apartments in the Avenue dcs About the same time that the news of her divorce Champs-Elysees. Some four years ago Lady Paget reached her from America, her lover came intohis died at Boulogne. Among her acquaintances was title as Marquis of Anglesey by the death of his Mrs. Wetmore, an American lady, from New York father. For a while the relations of the lovers were city. Shortly after her ladyship's death LordPaget more affectionate the"1 ever. They laidplans forthe declared his love for the fair American, and so sus­ summer, and the new-fledged Marquis begged her to ceptible was the foolish creature to his noble influ­ visita fashionable dressmaker in the Bue de laPaix ences that she forsook home and friends for him. and layinaitock of clothes for a season on the sea­ They went toParis together, and Lord Henry Paget shore. Among theladies to whom the Marquis had iistalled Mrs.Wetmore in apartments adjoininghis presented her wsb Lady Albert Pelham Clinton. This BABAH BERNHA.BDT.

FOLLY'S QUEENS. 49

was over three years ago, and the two hare b:en in­ had stored away, not his coronet, but aletter, which, timtto friends aver since. Lady Clinton, who is when the ceremony was finished, he hastened to kinswoman to the Duke of Newcastle, i3one of the send by commissionaire to its destination. Lord belleß of the EngliEh oolony in Paris. Perhaps it Lyons gave away the bride, and infrost of the mas­ would be more correct to say she was one of the sive gateway leading to the Ambassadorial palace belles, forlatterlyshe aas been livinga Tcry secluded stalked half a dozen or so detectives, each having in life onaccount of a bereavement in the death of Sir his possession a photograph of a lady whom they Claude Scott, a kinsman, recently deceased. To the were to prevont at all hazards from entering the frequenters of last year's Salon, Lady Clinton will place. That lady was Mrs.Wetmore, who,perfectly be recalled bya large portrait painted by Edward unconscious of what was going on at the Embassy, Harrison May, an American artist, representing her was at that very moment waitingthereturn ofPaget " as Marguerite." She and Mrs. Wetmore were to­ from London. Then tho commissionaire arrived with gether almost constantly, and Lady Clinton does not the letter just referred to. In it the Marquis bada " hesitate to speak in the highest terms of her dead her good-byo forever, and informed her that before friend, now buried beneath the green grass at Saint you have read these lines Ishall be married toan­ Germain. Mrs. Wetmore often read Lady Clinton other." The words swam before her eyes, the floor extracts from the lore letters she daily received sprang upward ;cold drops of perspiration stood from LordPaget whenever ho visited England;and out in great beads on her face and forehead ;the air inallof these missives thero were vows of everlast­ grew dark, and with a sharp and sudden, but low, inglove, and inmost ofthem promises to make her almost inaudible cry she fainted away. Hearing her his wife whenever she should be freed from her fallfromher chair, the maid ran into the room, and American husband. liftingher mistress from the floor, soon had her back On the 20th of June, 1880, Lord Anglesey bade Mrs. to consciousness. " Wetmore a tender goodbye, saying that be was going For the love of God, come to me at once," she over to London and that he should be gone forsev­ wrote toLady Clinton. eral days. For a few days Mrs."Wetmore suffered a great deal. They kissed each other and said good-bye, and he She was, ifnot quite penniless, almost so, for the was off for England ;not, however, until ho had richMarquis had left her only about 3,000 francs, assured Mrs. Wetmore that he would be back on the and she owed much more than that sum to her land­ iollowingSaturday. Early in the month ofJuno the lordand to the shopkeepers. Then Lady Clinton, Marquis met tho Hon.Mrs. Wodehouso, widow of tho whom she had summoned toher side when the first second son ofLord Kimbcrlcy and daughter ofMr. blow fell,took Mrs.Wetmore to her own apartments Preston King,of Georgia, sometime Postmaster-Oon­ inthe Eve Chateaubriand. Mrs. Wetmore was nat­ eralat Washington, but now deceased. Krs. Wode­ urallygreatly depressed, more particularly when the bonse, nee Minnie King, was introduced to Lord Marquis refused peremptorily to ever see her again Anglesey by his Australian relatives, the Boyds, She had some thought of suing him for breach of whose apartments Intho Champs-Elysoes were close promise of marriage in the British courts, but con­ "bythose occupied by tho charming widow. After an cluded not todo so. She had a strong case, however, acquaintance of three or four weeks the Marquis forout ofUOletters which the Marquis had written asked Mrs.Wodenouse to marry him,and she con­ toher, five at least, itis claimed, contained absolute sented. When Lord Paget left Mrs. Wetmore that and separate promises of marriage. fateful morningin June he drove to the station, and Meanwhile the Marquis' business men in Paris in­ thtnee crossed over to London. There he remained directly offered her 25,000 francs for a complete set­ untilThursday morning,Juno 24, when he hurried tlement, she to return his letters. This money, if back toParis. On Saturday, Jueo 27, tho Marquis wellinvested, wouldhavo brought her in an annual drove to the house ofMrs. Wodehouse, 33 Avenue dPB Income ofabout 1,000 franca, and she positively de­ Champs-Elysees, and thenco with tho fair American clined to settle for such a sum. On * farmer occa­ widow to the British Embassy in the Faubourg St. sion the Marquis, when he was Lord Henry Paget, Hcnore. Tho bride was attired in pearl-colored settled, as it is said, s somewhat similar case by satin, profusely trimmed withwhite lace. ALeghorn allowing his discarded mistress, a woman by the bonnet, shaded with ostrich plumes, completed this name ofLloyd,£1,000 a year during her lifetime. wedding toilet. TheMarquis of Anglesey was dressed Utterlybroken down by the distressing cireum­ in aPrince Albert black cloth coat, a crimson scarf, itances, Mrs. Wetmore took to hard drinking,and and dooikin trousers. Inone of his coat pockets he was utterly miserable when refused wines and 50 FOLLY'S QUEENS. liquors. She resorted to all kinds of expedient! to gave the body over to Lady Clinton, who became re­ secure something to drink,and even went so far as sponsible forthe funeral arrangements. The follow­ to drink up allof Lady Clinton's cologne and other ingSaturday the funeral service wai conducted by scents. Pay and nightthe would cry aloud forsome­ the' Bey.Dr.Morgan, at the American Chapel in the thingto drink ;but the servants had their orders, Bue Bayard, but not more than eight or ten persons and dare not disobey their instructions. being present. Then the body was taken to St. Ger­ The day before her death, which occurred on Wed­ main, and there deposited in the Protestaat burying nesday, July 21st, Mrs.Wetmore and Lady Clinton ground; and thus ended the last sad rites over the had a long interview, during which tlia latter en­ remains of theunfortunate woman. treated her friend to stop begging the maid forliquor Allof the expenses of the funeral had been cheer­ as under no circumstances would any be furnished fullyborne byLady Clinton; but she received a note her. Mrs. Wetmore threw her arms around Lady from Lord Anglesey's lawyer curtlyinforming her " Clinton and exclaimed, Oh, you are such a dear that his Lordship wouldbe responsible forthe same darling. How can 1over repay you ? How littleyou to the extent of £60 sterling. Lady Clinton at once know the great blow Ishall bring on youl" Lady replied that the amount expended had already ex­ Clinton now knows what was meant by those last ceeded that sum, and that she intended that her ew words, and is ofopinion that at that verymoment dead friend should have at least a burial befitting Mrs.Wetmore was meditating suicidn. one who had so long been the intimate friend of a ThatnightMrs.Wetmore moaned and groaned more marquis. than ever, and allthrough the nightkept crying out Perhaps Lord Anglesey has his own excuses to give to the maid to fetch her some brandy. The next forleaving Mrs.Wetmore, but certainly his friends morning she appeared in a better state of mind, and are ready to make them lor him. One of his kins­ Lady Clinton went out fora few minutes on matters men, a young man who frequents tho boulevards, has ofbusiness. She waß soon followed byher maid, who said, since Mrs. Wetmore's suicide, that tho Marquis informed her that Mrs. Wetmore was dying. She left her because ofher exceedingly dissipated habits. 1urried home, and onentering Mrs.Wetmore's room Ithas been stated since her suicide that last spring, found her suffering terribly. She sent tho maid in at theArtists' Ball, at the Grand Opera House, she one direction, and (he coachman in another, fora became so intoxicated that she had to be taken out doctor; but before they had returned with a physi­ of the building,to the great annoyance of the Mar* cian, Mr. Hunter, an elderly American gentleman, quis. Another report is that at a private dinner an old acquaintance and friend of Mrs. Wetmore's, given at the hcuse of aFrench Count in the Boule* came in and assisted Lady Clintonin trying tobring yardHaussmann, she stepped up to the buffet and lifeback to the dyingwoman. Presently two physi­ drank sixjorjseven glasses ofcognac without stopping. cians arrived, and they, too, did their best; but all The Marquis of Anglesey came into his present was invain. The poor creature died at 3 o'clock, in title some two years ago. One ofhis nephews is mar­ the most dreadful agony. ried to the daughter of the late Paran Stevens of authorities, York. The police after the usual formalities| New

CHAPTEKXV. OBIME HAUNTBD.

Eighteen years ago, two girls, familiarly known as jtie of ignorance, of misery and iham*. They lived • Aniadine and Francoise, solicited passers-by on the in the same hovel, fed from the same dish when For­ outer boulevards of Paris, licensed to do so by the tune sent them anything to feed on, and starved in police oithe section oiMontmartre. company. Thanks to their beauty, they contrived These two budding women, not more than seven­ to keep body andsoul together after a fashion, and a teen years oldeach, pretty in the two types ofblonde triflebetter than their sisters in shame. and brunette, were, nevertheless, harlots of the most One night Amadine, the blonde, fell in with a, debased class. The courtesans of the outer boule­ young workiagman who was celebrating his birthday vards are toParis what the painted effigies ofGreene with a drunk. He accompanied her to her den. and Water street* are to New York. There, withthe assistance ofFrancois, she stupefied The girUwere bosom friends, unitedby a common him withdrugged brandy, robbed him of the couple LORD HENRY PACKET. MBS. ANNIE WETMORE.

FOLLY'S QUEENS. 51

ofhundred francs he had about him,and threw him hind a vail. She had, in short, advanced from a har­ into a sewer excavation. lotto a fine lady. Avigilantpoliceman noticed theirmovements, and Therespectability ofher late husband set aside any they were arreßted. They had been more than once queßtions as to herself. So, when she became the in trouble on account of petty thefts, but this was marquise de Varbaray, society made do doubt ofher their first offense of any magnitude. The law took worthiness of the title. into consideration the strong provocation of their The Marquis returned toParis with her, and fora misery, and was lenient. They were each con- time proved a most devoted husband. His oldhab­ demned to St. Lazare for two years. itsgradually grew back on him, however. The dis- Among the prisoners there was an elderly English sipations of the past began to draw him to the de- woman, whose peccadilloes are unknown. The erring baucheries of the present, until,in 1876, there was daughter ofAlbion was a woman ofgood intelligence no wilderblade in the wildcity than thenow middle­ and of more tban ordinary education. Amadine be- aged Harquia de Varbaray. came her cell-mate. However this may have troubled the neglected Before the girlleft the prison her companion had wifeshe didnot openly exbibit her distress, itwas ;aught her to read and write and to speak English only when she found that her husband's irregulari­ and German. ties had engulfed his fartune and trenched on hers These lessons, imbibed eagerly to relieve the mo- and her childrens' that she began to act. His con­ notony of a dungeon, made a deep impression on the nection with a wellknown cocotte of the Quartier pupil's mind. Her heart, corrupted as it was, was Breda was notorious. He promised but failed to not wicked. Inher new knowledge she saw a glimpse keep bis word. Toher renewed importunities he re­ ofabetter life,and was filled withhorror at her past. sponded withinsults and finallywithblows. She fled from itto London. This rou~ed the dormant tiger in her, the remnant Before her prison earnings were exhausted, she ob- ofher old savage outcast lii'o a'l her education had tained employment as anurse in the familyof arich not stamped out, and she determined to face her shipping merchant named Brockingham. rival,to frightenher into suomisßion. Within a year her employer's son fell madlyinIlii!) woman was easily found. I>riving to her love withher. He proposed marriage; she accepted, ;house one morning she discovered her in her hus­ and they were united. She retained her position in band's arms. Yarbaray fled. His paramour faced her husband's family until her pregnancy could no the wife she had irjured with a brazen front,and the longerbe concealed. Then young Brockingham re- latter felt her senses leavingher. vealed all, and threwhimself uponhis father's mercy. Tbe woman for whose caresses her husband had The Utter did as such men commonly do. He cast abandoned her was her old comrade inmisery, Fran- the pair forth,penniless. coise. They were rich in love for one another, however. The ex-harlot of the outer boulevards did not at The young man set to work manfully to support first recognize her ancient friend. She only saw in both. After a time he obtained employment as her a woman over whom she had triumphed, and an agent for a manufacturing firm at the Isle of whose respectability made that triumph all the him Bourbon. His wife accompanied to his post, more glorious. This woman owned her husband's and was at his bedside when he died, fiveyears later, name. Hib mistress owned his body and his soul. already arich man. Ascene whose violence can be better imagined than Among the officials on the island was the Marquis It ended by the marquise de Varbaray, ayoung spendthrift, who had been sent described followed. re- throwing herself completely away from Paris to recoup his dam&ged fortunes and vealing herself and on mend his broken morals. The expatriated patrician her rival's mercy. had been afrequent visitor at the merchant's house, Itwas the worst course she could have taken. It and had been deeply smitten by the charms of Mrs. roused a bad woman's envy. Francoiso only hated Brockingham. When her husband died he offered to the oldcompanion who had been so much more for­ rapplyhis pl«#e. tunate thanherself. " There was no vestige left in the elegant young Tourhusband loves me," she said. "He is mine widow ofthe onetime stroller of tbe onter Boule- without hope of escape, unless Ichoose to let him go. vards. To the teachings of her prison companion Ofcourse Ionly want his money. Pay me,— then, ten her quick mind had added stores ofother knowledge thousand francs and you can have him and much behind which her loathsoma past disappeared as be- good may he do yon." 52 FOLLY'S QUEENS.

The compromise was accepted, the money paid, tal street-walker of the suburbs, reckless as a bank* and the marquis cast offin favor of aHungarian with niptgambler, fierce as ahunted -wolf. rubies and an appetite forbrandy. Her husband had a fancy for collecting curiouß The poor marquise, however, had with her own arms. From his museum she took a Moorish dagger hand suspended a sword over her head which was —one of those fearful weapons long and slender as a ! onlypreserved from fallingby the hair of a courte­ gleam of lightning, with a point like a serpent'i zan's caprice. She bled her old friend mercilessly, fang. At midnight a veiled shadow stole past the untilthe latter's puree could no longer respond to sleepy porter at the house of Francoise Lebrune, and the drain. Then came tho threats, the menacing was swallowed by thedarkness ofthehall. The pro­ messages, the angry persecutions which the black­ prietress of the place was absent, dallyingover a mailer makes a weapon of. Finallythe long-expected late supper with some victim. The shadow waited tinddreaded promise of exposure filled the viotim's forher in the gloom, where itcrouched likeatigreßS. cup of miser j. At two o'clock in the morning the porter was One afternoon, a couple of months ago, the Mar­ roused by the arrival ofhis mistress. Her maid was quise de Yarbaray drove through the Boia de Bou­ inbed, and alter gaining her room, Francoise dis­ logne. The appearance ofher wellknown equipage patched him to wake her. Aminute later, a woman was the signal fora general stare— a stare so intent entered theboudoir where the half drunken harlot was and curious that it embarrassed her. Her face, flush­ "So you are here," said Francoise, angry at having ingunder tfio vulgar gaze, turned to some passing been compelled to wait. " frlende. They passed her, staring at her without Yes, Iam here," answered a voice that luade her acknowledging her presence. leap up with a shriek, just as the speaker swiftly Society had cut her, and she knew that the blow closed and locked tho door. had fallen 1 "I—l—thought it was my maid," gasped the Onher return home, Bhe found a very extensive frightened prostitute. mail awaiting her. Its contents were, without ex­ "Itis your execntioner," replied the voice. ception, copies of scurrilous newspapers which a And, casting offher cloak, the visitor leaped upon hundred officious acquaintances had sent her. Each her, dagger inhand. one was marked at a certain place. She knew what Itwas no longer the Marquise de Yarbaray. It the mark denoted without reading the passage it was the old Amadine, a fury,a wildbeast. The mis­ emphasized. Francoise had revealed the whole hid­ •rablocccotte could no more have struggled against eous story of their past life to the editor of the scan­ her than she could have fought a Titian. Holding dalous sheet, who was one of her hangers on. All her by the throat the woman she had wronged and Paris was rollingunder its tongue the most juicy ruined massacred her with countless stabs. Her morsel ofsensation ithadenjoyed foryears— that the shrieks ran out like the screams ofan eagle. The lovelyand fashionable Marquise de Yarbaray was a porter, the police, the servants, summoned by the woman ofill-fame— a graduate from the brothel. dreadful outcrins, thundered at the heavy door. Tothe victimitmeant shame, social death, expul­ Calm amid allthe riot the murderess carried her pur­ cion from alldecent companionship. There was ab­ pose out. solutely no salvation for her. Even her servants The door finally burst from its fastenings. The sneered and gaped at her as they moved about the people outside stumbled into aroom dripping blood, room! The insolence of the pampered lackeys went among whose wrecked furnituro lay two dead co farthat when the stunned woman gathered her women. reelingsenses alittle and rang forlights, no one an­ One was mutilated almost beyond recognition. Her swered her call, face was slashed to mince-meat. Her body wm Inher mind a purpose was now forming darker ripped to shreds. The other, still gripping her by then the twilightshadowß amid which she sat alone. the throat, had fallen beside her witha bloody dag­ Allhope was gone, and withit went allof the better ger buried in her heart. With the point of ths impulses which her honest life had endowed her bloody dagger the poor ex-street walker had written with. Inher despair she became once more the bra- a fitepilogue to the scandal- whichhad destroyed her.