Martinsburg gazette. [volume] (Martinsburg, Va. [W. Va.]) 1833-1855, 1847-10-14
From the Charleston Courier
THE BEAUTIFUL MANIAC.
The fire that on my bosom preys
Is lone as some volcanic isle,
No torch is kindled at its blaze
A funeral nile !.

Is lone as some volcanic isle, =
No torch is kindled at its blaze
A funeral ple!"
In the morning train from Petersburg there
was a lady closely veiled, in the same car
with ourselves. She was dressed in the pur-
est white, wore gold bracelets, and evidently
belonged TO the higher circles of society. Her
figure was delicate, though well developed.
and exquisitely symmetrical; and when she
occasionally drew aside her richly embroider-
ed veil, the glimpse of her features, which the
beholder obtained, satisfied him Of her extreme
loveliness. Beside her sat gentleman in
deep mourning, who watched over her with
unusual solicitude, and several times when
she attempted TO rise, he excited the curiosity
Of the passengers by OBTAINING her in her seat
Outside the cars all was confusion passen-
gers looking to their baggage, porters running.
cabmen cursing, and all the usual hurry and
hustle attending the departure Of railroad
train. One shrill warning whistle from the
engine, and we moved slowly away.
At the first motion of the car, the lady in
white started to her feet with one heart-pierc.
ing scream, and her bonnet falling off, disclos-
ed the most lovely, and yet most unhappy
features we ever contemplated. Her raven
tresses fell over her shoulders in graceful dis
order, and clasping her hanus in prayer. she
turned her dark eyes to heavenl What ago
ny was in that look what beauty, too. what
heapenly beauty, had not SO much Of misery
been stamped upon it. Alas that one glance
told the melancholy tale.
''------she was changed
As by the sickness Of the soul her mind
Had wandered from its dwelling, and her eyes
had ek..- 4
Which is not of the earth she was become
The queen of fantastic realm her thoughts
Were combinations of disjointed things
And forms, impaipable and unperceved
OF others sight, familiar were to hers
unremlting in bis efforts to soothe her spirit
He led her back 10 her seat; but her hair was
still unbound, and her beauty unveiled. The
cars ratified on, and the passengers in groups
resumed their MISUNDERSTANDING wild
melody arose; it was the beautiful naniac's
voice, rich, full and inimitable. Her hands
were crossed on her heaving bosom, and she
waved her body as she sung with loucl ing
pathos:
''She is far from the land where her young hero
sleeps,
And lovers are around her signing,
But coldly she turns from their gaze, and weeps,
For her heart in his grave is lying
She sings the wild songs of her dear native palms.
Every note which he loved awaking-
All! little they think, who delight in her strains
How the heart of the minstrel is breaking!"
Her brother was unnamed, and he wept
as only man can ,ceep. The air changed, and
she continued:
elias sorrow thy young days shaded
AS clouds o er the morning fleet;
Too fast have those young days faded,
That ever in sorrow were sweet!
If thus the unkind world wther
Each feeling that once was dear
Come, child of misfortune come hither,
III weep with thee, tear for tear
She then sung ffagmen, of the beautiful
hymn:
"Jesus, lover of my soul,
Let me to thy bosom fly"
Another attempt to rise up was prevented,
and she threw herself on her knees beside her
brother, and gave him such mournful, en-
treating look, with plaintve "save me, my
brother save your sister," that scarcely
passenger could refrain from weeping. We
say scarcely, for there was one man twas he
man y who called on the conductor to "put
her out of the car" He received the open
scorn of the company. His insensibility to such
scene Of distress almost defes belief; and
yet this is, in every particular, an "o'er true
tale" Should HE ever read these lines, may
his marble heart be softened by the recollection
Of his brutality!
Again the poor ben GIFTED beauty raised her
bewtching voice to one Of the most solemn
sacred airs:
"Oh where shall rest be found,
Rest for the weary soul'"
and continued her melancholy chaunt until
we reached the steamer Mt Vernon, on board
ofwhich we descended the magnificent James
river, the unhappy brother and sister occupy
ing the "ladies cabin" His was sorrow
too profound for ordinary consolation and no
one dared TO intrude so far upon his grief as
to satisfy his curiosity
We were standing on the promenade deck,
admiring the beautiful scenery Of the river.
when AT one of landings, the small boat pulled
away from the shore with the unhappy pair
en- route for the Asylum at Williamsburg
She was standing erect in the stern OF the
boat, her head still uncovered, and her white
dress and raven tresses fiutterlng in the breeze.
The boat returned, and the steamer moved on
for Norfolk. They were gonel that brother
with his broken heart-that sister with her
melancholy union of beauty and madness.
GLENvARLocL.