Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1848-01-27
Biographical,

BY REV. J. S. c. ABBoTT

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A darker day never enyeIoped in its gloom the
Austrian monarchy, than when the beleaguering
host Of Napoleon encompassed Vienna, and from
their encircling batteries were showering shot and
shells upon the doomed city. The armies OF
Austria in repeated conflicts, had been moved
down and scattered by the r~esistless conqneror.
Az the eagles of Napoleon gllttered upon the hills
which overlooked the city, the Royal family, with
the " hot haste which terror inspires, had fled far
off into the wilds of Hungary. 1t is midnight.
The sky is streaked with the fiery ~projetiIes
which, like meteors Of death, are descending in
tothe thronged and d%lsmayed metropolis. Flames
are bursting forth in every part of the city. All
hearts are frozen with terror. There is no place
of refuge. Red hot shells crush their way through
dwellings of brick aud stone. Shells explode in
the cradle Of the infant, and upheaying the most
massy dwellings, bury their mangIed inmates
beneath their ruins. The clamors of two hun
bred thousand combatants fill the midnight air,
and mingle with the thunders of one of the most
awful bombardments earth has ever witnessed.
In one ofthe chambers of the royal palace there
lies a maiden, sixteen years of age, the daughter
of the king. Her father and mother, in the con-
sternation of their fight, were compelled to leave
behind them their sick child. Her cheek is flush
ed with fever, and again paled with terror as the
uproar of the assault, like angry thunders, fills
the air. The glare Of bursting shells and the
flames ofthe spreading coniagration, portentious-
ly CLEAN through the windows, upon the eye of
the sick and terrified sufferer. She in vain be-
ries her head beneath the bedclothes to shut out
the horrid cries Of the a~ssaiIants and the shrieks
of the wounded.
In the midst of the most dreadful scene the
gates of the city are suddenly thrown open, and
a small party emerge, and with a flag of truce
pass through the embattling hosts till they APP
proach the presence of Napoleon. They inform
him of the situation and peril of the princess,
He instantly orders the direction of every gun to
be changed, which might endanger her person.
The flag Of truce again retires within the walls,
and the awful bombardment continues. For ten
long hours this terrific storm of iron descends
upon the city, till three thousand shells have fill
ed its streets with ruins and blood. But Maria
Louisa remains upon her bed unframed, though
other parts of her fathers palace are blown from
their foundations. Little did she imagine in the
CONSERVATION of that dreadful night, that it
was her future husband who was thus raining
down destruction upon her fathers capital. And
little did the plebeian conquerer imagine, as he
compassionately changed the direction of his
guns, that this maiden was to be the queen oil
France, and that by this bombardment he was
wooing and winning for his bride a daughter Of
the CAESARS.
A daughter of the Caesars! What mysterious
influence there is in the ancestral renown. Ma.
poleon even, the creator of bis crown, the fabri
Gator of his own glory, was dazzled by its glare
Maria Louisa was a lineal descendant of the
proudest monarchs Of Rome. The blood which
circulated in her veins had passed to her from