The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1850-01-15 00:00:00

THE LIVERPOOL STAND/tilt

AFFECTING DEATH SCENE.-SINGULAR FATE
OF A COUNTESS.

(From " Scenes of the Civil War in Hungary.")

It was nearly dark when, with my troop, some of whom
were killed, others severely wounded, I reached the main
body. Scarcely had we unsaddled, and, tired to death, I
was about to stretch myself by the watch-fire, fed with
the ruins of houses which had been pulled down, when
an infantry soldier, appointed to hospital duty, came to
inform me that an officer of the insurgents, dangerously
wounded and taken prisoner, having heard my name,
wished to speak to me.
In spite of weariness, I immediately followed my guide
to the hurdle-shed, which was fitted up' for an hospital.
Dismal was the appearance of this dark, low place, scantily
lighted by the hand-lanterns of the surgeons and attend-
ants, who, with their blood-striped sleeves tucked up high,
and with aprons equally bloody, were busily engaged.
The wounded lay close to one another upon dirty straw,
which in places was quite wet and slippery from the blood
upon it. Loud and gentle sighs, moans, groans, gnashing
of teeth, mingled at times with curses, in the Bohemian,
Polish, Hungarian, German, and Croatian languages. I
was obliged to rally my courage, lest I should be scared
back.

In the furthest corner of the long building, on a bed of
straw, lay the wounded prisoner, who wished to speak to
me. How was I shocked, when the light of the attend-
ant's lantern fell upon his face, and I recognised Count
St- !

On our march through Croatia to Vienna, I had passed
two days at his mansion ; had seen him in the society of
two charming women—his wife and his sister—in the full
enjoyment of happiness ; and now, in what state was I
doomed to find him ! St—, a Magyar to the inmost
fibre of his heart, had indeed then told me that he should
take up arms for Kossuth ; but thus to meet him again I
was not at all prepared.
Kneeling by the side of my pale friend, whose noble
countenance bore the evident impress of speedy death, I
grasped his cold hand, and asked him in what way I could
be serviceable to him. " Thank you for coming," he
replied in a voice scarcely audible, and this effort mani-
festly caused him great pain ; " I heard that you were
here, and I sent for you. lam dying ; my chest is shat-
tered. When lam dead, take the pocket-book out of my
uniform, and send it to my wife, who lives at K—; it
contains my will and other papers."
Here he made a long pause, during which I strove to
cheer him.

" Don't talk thus—'tis of no use—we part as friends—
I have fought for my country—you are faithful to your

I pressed his hand in silence.
" Where is your sister Helene ?" I at length asked.
" With the army," he answered—" she is fighting for

Hungary."

It was now a considerable time before St- could
utter a word. He moaned gently; and a regimental sur-
geon, who came to us, significantly made the sign of the
cross with his finger.

At length, afte'r a full hour, he suddenly raised himself
and said, " So—now 'tis all over--salute Marie (the name
of his wife)—Marie!" and with that he stretched himself
out, his eye-strings broke, and his spirit fled.
With tears in my eyes, I took, in obedience to my
friend's last injunction, from the breast-pocket of his
uniform, his pocket-book, which was so steeped in blood,
that the writings in it had become almost illegible ; cut
off several locks of his fine black hair and of the curling
moustaches, which had always been his pride; and took
the rings from his fingers ; to send as speedily and safely
as possible to the unfortunate widow. The chief surgeon
promised me that St— should be decently buried and
alone ; and so I had done what I could

had been one of my most intimate friends in
the army. For years together, as cadets and officers, we
had been almost inseparable. I had always wished to
spend a few months on leave of absence upon his fine
,states in Hungary ; and now I had buried him as my

A f-ew days afterwards, my heart was doomed to suffer

another severe wound

I set out, with my two attendants, on my return to the
watch-fire, the tall flame of which flared up cheerfully
before us ; when, the moon shining tolerably bright, we
perceived a human figure lying at the foot of a tree.

We went nearer—it was 'a
woman, dressed as a man, in
the costume of an Hungarian magnate ; the long hair
which fell over her shoulders betrayed her sex. My
Seressans turned her round ; and by the pale moonbeams
I recognised Helene, the lovely sister of my friend St—.
Inexpressible anguish thrilled me at that moment, and I
!---h throwing myself upon the corpse.
Forcibly mustering my spirits, I ordered my men to
carry the body to the fire. There we examined it more
closely, and with extreme anxiety I sought to ascertain
whether there was any hope left of reviving her. Vain
hope ! it was several hours since her spirit had departed ;
the ball of one of our riflemen bad gone through her
heart. From the small red wound the blood was still
oozing in single drops, which I carefully caught in my
handkerchief, to be preserved as a relic.
My only consolation was that the deceased could not
have suffered long ; that she must have expired the very
moment she was struck. Those pure, noble, still won-
drous beautiful features—on her brow dwelt peace and
composure, and the lips almost smiled. There she lay
as if in a tranqnil slumber; and yet those eyes were never
more to open—those lips never more to utter noble senti-
ments, or words of kindness.

was welt ni

My hussars were visibly affected, and thought it a pity
that one so young and so beautiful should die so early.
Many of them, who had been with me on our first march
through Hungary, for two days together at St-'s
mansion, instantly recognised Helene, and doubly la-
mented her death, because she had shown such kindness
to them.
We thawed by a 4-1"- t f f-

tire the ground no. ar from a maple
tree, and were employed nearly the whole night in diping
a large deep grave with our hand-bills and swords. By
the time the first rays of dawn appeared, we had finished ;
an hussar. who could do carpent,r's work, having mean-
while made a simple cross out of the stems of two young
white maples.

The corpse, in full uniform in the kolpock, with plume
of glistening heron's feathers on the head ; the light
Turkish sabre by her side ; was then wrapped carefully
in a clean, large blanket, which we had with us, and so
deposited in the grave, which we filled up again with
earth. Then, regardless of caution, I had a full salute
with pistols fired over the grave. I have preserved a small
gold ring and a lock of her hair for a memorial. When
nr melancholy business was finished, we moved off after

the enemy, who retreated rather hastily_
The tempestuous feelings that filled my heart T am not
able to describe. Helene had, as I subsequently learned,
served as aide-de-camp to her maternal uncle, who com-
manded a considerable ➢lagyar corps, and was shot, while
acting in that capacity, by our soldiers in the above-
mentioned action.

LABOUR AND THE. POOR.—Strange and sad, indeed,
are the pictures which these Metropolitan letters exhibit,
drawn from God's own storehouse of Fact,—stranger,
sadder, terribler than all fiction. Look at the Spital-
fields weavers, " formerly the only botanists in the me-
tropolis," possessing, within the memory of living man,
an Entomological Society, a Horticultural Society, and a
Mathematical Society, all maintained by the operatives,—
bringing forth a Dollond,. a Simpson, and an Edwards ;
and then, in the course of this very half-century, seeing
their wages cut away from them year after year, falling
from 14s. 6(1. (average) in 1824 to 7s. in 1849; till the
second or third-rate weavers are found living twenty-
three persons in a house, tasting sometimes animal food
once a-month, while they produce maroon-coloured vel-
vets " for ladies to wear and adorn them, and make them-
selves handsome." Look at the three thousand labour-
ers scuffling every morning at the London Dock-gates for
a single day's hire of half-a-crown, and if failing of ad-
mission still waiting in the yards by the day long, on the
chance of earning 4d. an hour if wanted for some stray
ship,—the average earnings of the whole class not exceed-
ing ss. a-week throughout the year; whilst an easterly
wind will throw 7000 out of employ, or with their de-
pendents, 20,000 ! Look at the slop-work tailors, the
men receiving 3s. 6d, for the coats they made at ss. Id.
two years ago,—sometimes eating, drinking, sleeping,
working in one room, as many. as ever the room will con-
tain ; the women earning at the best from 4s. 6d. to, ss.
per week, let them sit from eight in the morning till ten
at night, and paying out of that Is. 6d. for trimmings-
and 6d. candles every week, so that altogether they earn
about 3s. in the six days,—hopeless creatures, that never
knew a rise, but continual reductions !" Look ab the
shirt-maker, making shirts for 2s. a dozen that were
3s. 6d. eight years ago; her usual time of work "from
five in the morning till nine at night, winter and summer ;"
when there is a press of business getting up often at two
or three in the morning, and, "carrying on" till the-even-
ing of the following day, merely lying in her clothes to
take a nap of five or ten minutes, for " the agitation of
mind never lets one lie longer ;" and for all this toil
earning on an average 2s. 101 d. per week, or 2s. clear,
after deducting cotton and candle,—a hopeless creature,
too, "that never knew them to raise the prices '.."" Look
at the waistcoat-maker—her earnings average from 3s. to
4s. a-week. out of which, all deductions made, she has
about ls. lOid. to live upon ;—she, too, one who has
found " prices continually going down," and " never knew
an advance," and yet knows persons " who get even lower
prices than she does; oh, yes, a great deal lower !"
Fraser's llapazine.

DR. CHALMERS AND THE FORCE OF IMAGINATION.—
It was about this time that coffee began to be generally
introduced. Ir.stead of adopting the new beverage, Mr.
Chalmers invented one of his own—an infusion of burnt
rye—which he not only used constantly himself, but urged
upon all his guests, strenuously affirming its equality with
the best Mocha coffee. Upon one occasion, at Kilmany,
Mr. Duncan, who had got no great relish for his friend's
beverage, so stoutly denied this position, that Mr. Chal-
mers declared that the next time he came to Dundee, he
would subject the matter, in Mr. Dunean's own presence,
to an experimenturn crud*, and triumphantly vindicate
his own invention. The time for the experiment soon
arrived. Mr. Chalmers appeared in Dundee, bringing
with him a quantity of rye coffee, as he called it, of his
best manufacture. The trial between it and its rival was
made at Dr. Ramsay's, to whose sister the performance
of the important experiment had been committed. It
was agreed that a select company of connoisseurs should
assemble; that Miss Ramsay should furnish each, first
with a cup of her best Mocha coffee, and then with a cup
of " the genuine Kilmany ;" that each guest should an.
nounce his opinion, and that by the verdict of the majo-
rity the question of their respective merit should be deci-
ded. In the meantime, however, before the trial com-
menced, Miss Ramsay received certain private instruc.
tions, upon which she acted. In due time the company
assembled. The coffee, being handed round, met with
general approbation. The second cup was next presented :
by one after another an adverse verdict was pronounced,
till it came at last to Mr. Duncan, who emphatically ex-
claimed, " Much inferior,—very much inferior !" Mr.

Chalmers burst into laughter as he replied, " It's your
own Mocha coffee ; the second cup is just the same arti-
cle as the first." The supremacy of the imagination over
the senses which he had thus tested upon Mr. Duncan
and the. coffee connoisseurs of Dundee, Mr. Chalmers
used also to illustrate by an incident which occurred in the
house of his granduncle, Dr. Chalmers, the minister of
Kilconquhar. A party of ministers had met at the manse,
where a number of them were to remain all night, and
among the rest Mr. Gray, against whom some slight
pique, on account of areal or assumed literary superiority,
was entertained. The question as to the relative power
of the imagination and the senses was raised, and the ar-
gument rose high, Mr. Gray alone taking the side of the
senses, and all the others the side of the imagination.
The combatants parted for the night ; Mr. Gray, by re-
tiring first, giving his adversaries the opportunity of con-
cocting the trick by which they made his own act contra-
dict his argument. It was the custom at that time to
wear wigs, which were given to a servant at night to be
powdered for the next day. When Mr. Gray, with his
freshly-powdered wig, came down next morning to the
breakfast-room, he found it unoccupied. It was not long
till one of his brethren joined him, who, on approaching,
gave very distinct, but not very agreeable indications that
a most offensive odour was issuing from the wig. Trying
his own senses, Mr. Gray could detect nothing amiss, and
laughed at his friend for his folly. Now, however, a se-
cond friend came in, who declared, immediately on en-
tering, that there was a strong smell of brimstone in the
room, and traced it at once and unhesitatingly to the wig.
The laugh subsided, but still, after a second trial, Mr.
Gray could find dothing amiss. But a third friend came
in, and a fourth, and a fifth, all fixing the alleged offence
upon, the wig, till his own senses overcome at last, and
the victory given to his adversaries, Mr. Gray flung the
harmless wig indignantly away, exclaiming, " Why, the
fellow has put brimstone on the wig."—Hanna's Memoirs
of Dr. Chalmers.