The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser. — Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1855-12-18 00:00:00

to perfection looking every inch the as lie described, in glowing terms, to his audience, the pleasures of a freedom 'd by the heavy shackles of civilization, A of a - wild life in the far-off forests of Where thousands of brave warriors were follow their chief to battle, or to obey 'st behests. These and many other tales of gallant deeds performed, of hair %capes, of adventures on shining lakes ing streams, of buffalo-hunts and deer- burning forests and blazing prairies ; not an incident of which romance we taken full advantage escaped his ,e illustration, sketched out for him by -.ctised proprietor of the exhibition. Les the serious part of my history. , crowd of visitors to the spectacle was lady, the daughter of a wealthy and )ectable citizen of London. She was virtuous, amiable, and accomplished, a knowledge of music and languages :e her so, and well read in much elegant especially of Cooper's unrivalled °F an enthusiastic and poetical dis- Ler imagination pictured scenes and cir !s which had no existence except in her igulated or disordered mind. With ear she listened to th e tales flowing so in Luis Cadotte's facile tongue. She rself at length to believe that he was le heroic chieftain he so artfully described. again she went and listened to the 'rpent—the rich blood mantling to her 'eloquent eyes, her breathless attention ke, soon showed him the power he He inquired, and heard that she was ' l ' would possess what to him would be n this, growing bold, he talked of love less to be culled in the far-off parts of land. Perhaps he persuaded himself lok e but the truth, and that he really hapless girl. He never told her was a chieftain, but she would lai so in spite of himself. Her no light or wanton thing. It was love ; but to love for one, and for arful was the stake for which she all. They often met, and with pride Vpaw miserably to be disappointed) she to b ecome th e b r id e o f th e su pp ose d , ttt , and to accompany him to his woodl an d k t clgs the Atlantic. Her relations and V, vain endeavoured to persuade her to dti 4 er m a d p ro j ec t. Sh e was fi rm i n h er o o tl i ,; she had pledged her wor d t o one ' her, she said, and would redeem it. t o tange that all her friends should have c i4l detect the real character of the man, i \ o t)t sl have entertained with her the prepos yt,lon, that a proud Red chieftain would ? 1 ," 0 come and exhibit himself before a f ii °,wd of white faces. That the exhibitor o ?ould not have warned her or her ' l l h i the real position of Cadotte speaks kit 'll,s favour ; but that some of the un s acquaintance, who, if ignorant that 11* 4 not - what he appeared, at all events tl l4 7ient o f th e lif e o f an I n di an to b e lil t 0 an English girl of refined habits could %, be miserable as the sharer of his wig ,ttlelWhauld she escape being brought down Ntl of the squaws with whom she would INi l lle 4) rt, should not have endeavoured, by it tl y 4% in their power, to open her eyes to ) (It leiri cl n. f the dreadful condition to which she '. ct, herself, was most cruel and unpar ''l T hey could not interfere, she was i t , ll(lll4 P °lte r of theirs—she might fancy the 't F the fanc was a strange one ;' and lil lilar • y frivolous excuses, they allowed, 18 55 , ! I, '''°lti 6 1. 'n ° ; .` ta r t dep.: , . ta . t ..o ,se s 11 h in ol Iti i as LtdLtdc t r ai n ed to 'et .. el' Ights ! e , a, I'd) ili (*() foil tightest 1 1,k0 0 ' tell , 1 osit i' It h ri,. tH. r.l, -sea of Yltterin 5 il le° ' hog:.- )) 'th bt A 3 - . 3 f 111 .ipPr , , , ,have jou , . ' ate i its t be ' - ilara, , e rei te j ~ corm eje o il ,), the c ol ce val ' I t lad \ sO ' D , 4 les ,y , pec av e 0 se, vi Pol e Al / V h , k a I s 5164 ,Ike t trib e c , : l 'e. e iess , . es. ( ' e Vel l ' , her t t oo tees N 5 ,is he gl-rego] ' l d ol °, 4 8 ear ot' f rom ] theft; }terse] sc ti lt' the he. s f o 7 , 41 44 N i iiii 3 • l k Oerpe `:/' elo this 'Pok e are, 'B v e cl. il Ad , " 1 1. ) , 1 ' Nv ,alci e un t oe ' 'iness Ir e 1 , D tov , lan ie %poke , , a the L i t, v bee ha, 4 e • ) 0 0 , to, hi Nva til e ' ' ' 41 : 11 t.c l 1 for lc 00 . ,t,)r 1 ( -as' 4 Iv earfl Ce d ' ' Or all ci Si e de) tro t Id I II .fit) A 15, 0 (1 1 - 10 oc l 00 iitiEll 18, 1855.] SUPPLEMENT TO THE LIVERPOOL STANDARD. with unmanly cowardice, the misguided victim of cruelty to rush to her destruction. The proposed marriage between a handsome English lady and a Chippewa chief became the subject of conversation for some days, if not weeks, in London, and did not fail to bring grist to the mill of Mr. Catlin, as numbers crowded to the exhibition to see the distinguished and happy bridegroom elect. Some few, with a slight sen sation of pity, regretted that a Christian girl was about to marry a heathen . ; but that he was one Cadotte indignantly denied, affirming that not only was he a Christian, but a true son of holy mother Church, a pious subject of the Pope. The poor girl's unhappy father, partly, like others deceived, having exhausted all his influence to prevent the inauspicious union, gave his reluctant consent, and promised to make some allowance for her support. At length the term for which the Indian troop had been engaged having expired, Cadotte and his bride sailed for the land where his sup posed government existed. She took with her her piano and books, and several articles of elegant furniture, an abundant supply of fashion able dresses, and many luxuries for the toilette. Arriving in the St. Lawrence, they proceeded at first to a backwood village on the shores of one of the great lakes. Here the now doubting bride began to inquire when they were to reach the chieftain's country, of which her lord had so eloquently spoken. A shout of brutal laughter was his first reply ; the next, the fire -water mounting to his brain, a blow, not once, but often repeated. Then the eyes of the loving, devoted, and infatuated woman began to open, and soon she felt convinced how grossly she had been deceived. For two long years she endured, uncomplainingly, this existence, supporting her husband with the remittances she received from home ; but at length he grew tired of the place, and resolved to return to his native village at the Sault St. Marie. Any change to her was welcome. Perhaps even then she expected to find that he was really the chief she had supposed. Still carrying her piano and furniture she reached the village of the " Sault." Here she was taken, in the first instance, to a miserable log but ; but it appears, either from his finding occupation at his former trade to employ his time, or from the heart softening towards his unhappy wife, that Cadotte no longer treated her with his former brutality. Her friends had in the meantime heard of ber miserable condition, and frequently offered to receive her back should she desire to return to her home, but she positively refused to quit her husband on any terms. With a noble and virtuous spirit, she replied that she had become his wife for better or for worse ; that if he was bad, the more was it her duty to remain and endeavour to reform him ; and that if he had deceived her, it was his love for her had persuaded him to the act, while she confessed that she had deceived herself. She now sought for comfort at the only source where, either in prosperity or affliction, true comfort can be found ; but, alas ! no minister of her own faith was there to give counsel to her distressed heart. But there were priests of Rome, and they soon obtained that mastery over her mind they ever seek to possess. She became a Roman Catholic : through their aid her husband built a better house, and by their admonitions ceased to ill-treat her. They also enabled her to open a school for the children o f th e i r faith, which con tributed to her support. Her great hope, it was said, in thus assimilating her faith to that of her husband was to reform him. She believed that she perceived the germ of better things within his dark soul, and she trusted to draw them forth and see them fructify. Was it possible, after the 211 deception practised on her, that she could still love on ? No, the idol she had once adored had proved a hideous monster—her love had fled, and her heart was breaking. Yet to the last she re fused to leave, him, with her English home, com fort, and a kind welcome offered her ; her sole earthly desire to see him better prepared for the eternity to which she was herself so rapidly hasten ing. And thus slie died and slept at last in peace—another of the many examples of woman's folly and of woman's constancy, and of severe and bitter punishment for one fault. No sooner was she dead than her prayers seemed answered. Cadotte was inconsolable, and obtaining leave from his employers for a week, he devoted it to building a tomb over her grave. Here every evening, it is said, he goes, and, moaning, prays for her his cruelty has destroyed. From that time he became an altered man. Shunning society, as soon as his daily work was done, he would retire to his hut; where he would read and meditate half the night through. Thus, it is said, he still occupies his time. AN AMERICAN HOTEL DINNER. THE crowd have squeezed themselves into the room, Such a scrambling and jostling for seats ! Spare the crockery. The din—from din comes dinner—redoubles. Such an outcry I Babel is music to it.—" Waiter !" " Waiter !" " John !" " Waiter !" " Thomas !" " Thomas!" "Waiter !" "John !" " Thomas !" " Soup !" " Soup !" " Soup !" were iterated in all octaves, from contralto to soprano. I was a "looker-on in Vienna," when the scenes which follow occurred, and I " speak the things which I do know." " Give us a stout, hearty plate of soup, William !" said a short, crimson-faced man, with an abomi , nable periphery like a semi-globe. As he gave this order for a second plate of soup, he shoved into the waiter's hand, open to receive the plate of a gentleman who had as yet secured nothing, his own dish, and bade him make haste. Igno rant of " dinner etiquette," as Fanny Kemble styles it, a dozen of those around us had at once commenced on the solids ; which of course made the rest work like beavers to finish their soup ; and some of those at the end of the table, who, having but just received the initial liquid, were still sipping after their luckier friends at the favoured head of the table had concluded, were admonished of the necessity of making haste, by the removal of their plates by the impatient waiters. Waiters are systematic. People should be more simulta neous in eating soup. A polite man swallows his, scalding hot, that he may keep pace with his more fortunate neighbour. " Here ! here !—you rascal, bring back my soup !" bawled out a man with a thin, vinegar aspect. His plate had suf fered abduction. The waiter feigned not to hear. The wrinkles on the pungent face visibly shar pened. That look would have soured an entire dairy. In a voice thin and sharp as his features, he exclaimed " Here ! here ! you unmannerly Irish scapegoat ! (ah ! you hear at last, do you?) bring back my soup instantly !" " It's ag'in' the rules, sir-r ; I can't do it, sir-r ! But here's a beautiful arrangement !" replied the Irishman passing a bill of fare. "D—n you and yourrules, and your bill of fare in a mess ! I want my soup, you Irish blackguard !" " Can't do it, sivr ; the rules must be observed. Can't give ye any more soup, sir-r ; the mates is on,ssir; them must be ate next : them's the rule, sir-r ;" and the waiter ran to answer a call farther up the table. The discomfited man swore as terribly as if he had formed one of the celebrated army in Flanders. " Pretty hotel, this! Excellent regulations ! Polite servants ! Must eat meat, must I ? I'll see 'em hanged first ! Here, you chowder-head,