The Dorset County Express and Agricultural Gazette.
Dorchester, Dorset, England, 1881-07-26 00:00:00

THE ROAD TO RUIN.
aomcgric STOIT.

Tee followlog sketch of • life just ended in shame and
degradation. A letter fr m a Hungarian. dated San
FfIIIICiPC,, June 3. has reached Vienna and this Is how it
runs:—" Sinew yesterday morning there lies in the morgue
of this city the holy of a wenn an who was found dead in
the streets. Deoemed was 51. and he cause of death
alcoholism. To-morrow the body .111 receive a paupsr
funeral, at an . xpense of I dollar 66 cents. Old theatre-
goers will remember Joirphlne, Countess o—, who In
1847, set the f•shionehle world of Vienne raving shout her
talent, and beauty. She was a girl of 17 then, and, being
a counties in her own right, and the daughter of a very
rich Magyar noblemen to beet, of course exhibited her
r imarkable abilities only amongst her friends. But hee
fame soon outeteppe I these narrow limits, for the beautiful
Gristle was • born actress and singer—it was in her bleed
—she was • genius. Next year she married the well-
known Count Harolyi ; but next year came also the
Magyar Revolutioo, when the brood lands of dear Hue-
ry bristled with ' rebels envious to free their country
from the Hepeburg. Beautiful and clever women
bay, often mad, first clam agitators enthusiasm is
very catching when shot out of bright eyes and
thus it cams to pa s that the Countess soon became an
arch conspirator. Ala. les you know, the Magyar cause
fared ill, for the grim Muscovite" came to Ms aid of the
Austrians and helped them to crush the 'rebel.,' as they
called is, (but for this the ' Zeogels' would have been
well hammered and their tyrant yoke shaken off).
Karelyi cod his wife Bid to Verne., bat were captured
there. They. however, managed to wane and made Ls*
Perin, where the young couple led • life of wild pleasure.
I met them lbws myself, and shall never forget )heir
evident devotion to each other. They bat friends, and
money, and yowls, end love, and were, perhaps, too happy
for this gay world. for before a year had passed the
ycung Cu if soddenly died. From that Mine • certain
reckl-maness seems to have taken possession of Countess
Josephine, and she commtnesd—although et first almost
Imperceptibly—to indulge in that vice which has just
dragged her to a miserable grays Her husband's land,
were coed -cited by the °ornament ; her father had left
most of bis money to the church; her own dowry had
partly melted sway in Pori; so shed cided to go on tne
"tags, and readily obtained an engagement at the Petit
Oper. This was In 1851, and she acted under the nuns
of d'Ormy. The following year—influeatisl friends having
obtain. I her pardon--ohe returned Ii Pesti), and appeared
at the Nation.l Theatre. Th, city was at her feet ; the
enthtoi ...sof the fiery Marys?' knew no bound'. She was
thee in e of duels innumerable : simile from those lips was
cheaply purchased at the prim of • hole through one's
lady. But she did not remain long to enj .y thee@
triumphs : she went in as arch of others &CYO .11 the great
waren,. !eighteen months had hardly passed whets the
d'Oriny left for Ne tr York, with her friends Mario and
Grist. The Yankees were not far, if at all, behind the
Umpire In the frantic greeting they accorded this woman,
whose charms made beld-towsded fathers of families
behave themselves like the veriest youngsters in the
transports of their enthusiasm. I have beard that on the
night of her benefit ;mole threw their waretim and
snuffboxes on the stage, welch was already • foot deep in
bouquets. Of roam she made heaps of money; but she
spent henna of money, too, for she was rapidly getting
reckless. Besides this, she drank three to four bottles of
champagnes day ; but she
other liquor. Why she left New York suddenly is not
clear: hut she did so, and the next I heard of her was in
1881. She wee at that time playing in the Central
gums, but had "come down" • good deal. How-
ever, Manager Bianchi here in San Francisco offered
her 800 dollars • month, and she accept-d. But it was
no use trying to fix her acywhere. Her engagement
over, what most she do, instead of looking out for
another, but take • fancy to visit the Sandwich Islands !
Here the Counteis seems to have had • bad time of it.
Next year she returned to San Francisco, and married
the music conductor, levees, who, however, soon had to
separate from her by rismon of her drunkenness. It
wog no I nger champagne now, but common schnaps).
And now the downward steps of this woman's oareer
became longer and more rapid. No massager would engage
her; for, although • fine voice was still Mere, she was not
t 3 be retied upon. So she took to giving music lesson;
but these soon failed her too. About seven years ago she
went to Sacmmento, where she lived with • pianist, one
, Leary. Hon) a severe miamrtune overtook her, for she
broke her 1-g 'winging out of • buggy, the horse of which
bad bolted. Leary deserted her, and when she returned
to San Francisco Me possessed :Whine lathe world save the
clothes she stood in and 'crutch. You know the world, and
you can guess bow it treated the tipsy stipple. At Met some
old colleague found her a place in • music-hall—a beery
den, where it was the elute of the ones proud minters to
Sing coarse 10011 in as atmesph-re of smoke. Here she
must have made the son rant .re i of the workman with
whom 'be Heed for the I s.t m nth' of her unhappy
life. There was moth, w 'man ig this sisimiage, who
rejoiced under the toochini soubriquet of the Bretsel-
benne, and this pees n I saw to- lay. Said she, when
speaking of d-c &sod :—'l3*.ie was a sond-hearted soul,
and never sere d wh.n beaten, even when 'rook. She
always chopped the wood fur the kitchen, notwithstand-
ing her bad I g. She always gave up any m 'nay she earned,
even when V Ina 1.. r drnk, and when sober enough could
make ag ol h tab —she called it suylasch.' floe owed me
two della,. ; ta t let that be—.he was • good-he net thing,
poor soul !" Such is the elegy spoken over the body of one
who, in her youth, was a queen by all the unwritten laws
of society, and by the pre.dence conferred by wit end
beauty. In truth, a sad end; peace to her memory I.— I
Globe.