Daily American telegraph. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1851-1852, 1852-05-19
THE MAIDEN'S DEATH.


Gretry's daughters all died at the age of six
teen. There is something strange in their life
and in their death, which strikes the dreamer
and the poet This sport of destiny, this freak
of death, this vengeance of nature appears
here invested with all the charms of romance
You will see.
Jenny had the pale, sweet countenance OF
virgin. On seeing her, Greuze said one
day. "If | ever paint Purity, | shall paint
Jenny" Make haste J" murmured Gretry,
already a prey to sad presentiment Then
she is going to be married :" said Greuze
Gretry did not answer. Soon however, seek
ing to blind himself he continued: "She will
be the staff of my old age; like Antigone, she
will lead her father into the sun at the decline
Of life"
The next day Gretry came unexpectedly
upon Jenny, looking more pale and depressed
than ever. Shewas playing on the harpsichord,
sweetly and slowly AS she was playing an
air from Richard CGur-de- Lion in a melancholy
strain, the poor father fancied that he was list
ening to the music of angels. One of fher friends
entered" Well, Jenny, you are going tonight
to the ball ~ Yes, yes to the ball, !" answered
poor Jenny looking towards heaven, and sud
denly resuming No. | shall not GO my
dance is ended Gretry pressed his daughter
to his heart. Jenny, you are suffering 1T
is over" said she.
She bent her head and died instantly, with
out struggle Poor Gretry asked if she was
asleep. She slept with the angels.
Lucille was a contrast to Jenny she was q
beautiful girl, gay enthusiastic, and frolicksome,
with all the caprices Of such disposition. She
was almost portrait of her father, and possess
ed, besides, the same heart and the same mind
"Who knows" said poor Gretry, but that
her gaiety may save her :" She was unfortu-
nately one of those precocious geniuses who de-
YOUR their youth. At thirteen she had com
posed an opera which was played everywhere
lie Marriage de Antonia. A Journalist, friend
of Gretry, who one day found himselfin Lucilc'S
apartment without her being aware of it, so
much was she engrossed with her harp has re-
lated the rage and madness which transported
her during her contests with inspiration that
was often rebellious "She wept she sang she
struck her harp with incredible energy. She
either did not see me, or took no notice of me
for my own part, wept with JOY in beholding
this little girl transported with so glorious u
zeal and 80 noble an enthusiasm for music.
Lucille had learned to read music before she
knew her alphabet. She had been so long lull-
ed to sleep with Gretry's airs, that at the age
when so many other young girls think only
of hoops and dolls, she had found sufficient mu-
sic in her soul for the whole of a charming OPP
era She was prodigy Had it not been for
death who came to seize her at sixteen like
her sister, the greatest musician of the eigh-
teenth century would, perhaps have been a
woman But the twig scarcely green, snap
ped at the moment when the poor bird com
menced her song. Gretry had Lucille married,
at the solicitation Of his friends Marry her,
marry her" they incessantly repeated. lfl
Love has the start Of Death, Lucille is safe "
Lucille suffered herself to be married to one of
those artists of the worst order, who have nei-
ther the religion Of art nor the fire of genius
and who have still less heart-for the heart il
the home of genius. The poor Lucille saw at
a glance the desert to which her family had ex-
lied her She consoled herself with harp and
harpsichord; but her husband, who had been
brought up like slave, cruelty took delight,
With towards vengeance, in making her feel
all the chains of fHymen. She would have died
like Jenny, on her father bosom, amidst her
loving family, after having sung her farewell
song; but, thanks to this barbarous fellow, she
died in his presence, that is to say, alone. At
the hour of her death, Bring me my harp
said she, raising herself little, The doctor
has forbidden It !" said this savage. She cast
a bitter vet suppliant look upon him " But
as am diving" said she You will die very
well without that She fell back on her pillow.
Mypoor father, mnrmuredc she 7 wish to bid
you adieu on my harp; but here am not free,
except to die" Lucille lit is the nurse who re-
lated the scene) suddenly extended her arms,
called Jenny with a broken voice, and fell
asleep like her forever
THE woRLDLINGS DEATH
In strong contrast with the above is the ac.
count of the death Of Dorat, the courtier poet,