Daily national era. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1854, 1854-03-15
LITERARY MISCELLANY.
For the National Fra.
BELL SMITH. ABROAD.

THE HOUSE on MARAT

THE HOUSE OF MARAT
DEAR FRIEND: On the corner, near our pres
ent residence, stands the house once the resi-
dence Of the famous Marat and in which he
received, from the white hand OF Charlotte
Corday, a death that sends them both down to
o remote posterity ! take great delight IN
visiting places where great events have left
crowd Of associations for one to gather up and
make live again, but ! hesitate about attempt
ing to place them on paper. 1t is like an ex-
hibition Of dry bones as specimens OF former
living beauty. Bnt this place has taken 80
strong a hold upon my imagination, cannot
resist the temptation Of giving you an account
of my visit.
Leaving Place St Sulpice by the Rue st,
Sulpice, you turn down Rue de PAncienne
Coincide, all the while slipping over rounded
stones, upon which the fog seems to have con-
densed in vile compound, anything but pleas
ant and always dangerous; and I'LL the while
you keep lookout for extraordinary carts,
towering up above q single horse, which rushes
along as if oats were on the rise, or remises
that make no pauses but turn corners as il in
sane, and you hear the warning cry Of "gare,"
as chronicle Of an accident, having been
TANNED into an applicant, more or less dam
aged. This is French in the extremes every
one for himself, and the police for us ALL The
walk, with this exception, is not unpleasant,
You are in an ancient part OF the city; along
these very ways the Roman soldier once strobe,
the master Of the world. But q short distance
further on are yet the remains OF his palace
of which one chamber yet exists entire. At q
later date-much later indeed-a master Of
another kind-one of the kings Of thought
powdered and rnfled, sauntered into that
building, once a theatre, or into this, yet q
cafe where they exhibit the very table OF which
he sat and slipped his wine and heard himself
called Monsieur Voltaire. Ifyou wish to have
these shadows of the past, and look around the
world, now quite as strange-but this is be-
coming an old story to you. am, as you GER
tainly must be, tired of this talk about bonnes,
students, bourgeois, and other living features
Of Paris Here we are looking at queer old
yellow building, on the corner, three stories in
height, and only remarkable for the corner
being set off by round towers, telling Of time
when every mans house was indeed his castle.
This is the house; here resided the " Friend of
the People From the low and lonely place
emanated those terrible propositions and fiery
appeals which made the mobiles shudder and
the very Government shake.
| had walked by the place several times,
but one day, from sudden impulse, we de-
termined to enter-not the most inviting prop
osition, for on the corner in the ground floor is
q drinking shop, and several blonsed men were
then loud Of their cups. Nothing daunted,
however, we made the attempt Entering
narrow passage, we made our wishes known
to concierge, in dirty, yellow gown, and
had much difficulty. But five. franc seemed
to clear her brain, and we were invited to as
cend A narrow, winding stair conducted to
marrow hall, dim and dirty. Here, Charlotte
Cordsy waited for the servant to convey her
request to tho dreaded terrorist--for Marat
was Ill, and bathing; and the domestic had
Just said he could not be seen But she was
urgent-had she said, business of Importance
to the nation. Did that brave heart throb--
did any glimpse Of the future fash upon the
troubled mind-what were the thoughts what
the emotions, crowded into brief moments on
that narrow landings -the few last moments
Of peace and rest in this world to her. While
she waited where for second stood, calling
up the past, the bright sun of July evening,
glIded as it set the many domes of Paris and
through the dim window came the hum of
multitudinous life. What scenery and what
an event We entered the room--certainly, an
uninviting place. Low ceilings, dingy walls,
uncertain light from the narrow windows,
made up the place where lived and died this
fearful man. The furniture is mean now-but
was no better, we are told, when its inmate
held in his hand the wealth Of ell Paris He
who could at word control millions, lived
and died in squalid poverty. Strange fact
] sat myself in q low, broken chair, and read
over the fearfully interesting account--so start
ling, 90 apparently without motive, and Ger
tainiy without other results than to add an.
other tragedy TO the already crowded list Had
Charlotte Cofday waited but few DAYS,
mightier than herself would have removed the
terrorist His sands OF life, so rudely shaken
by grand events and low debauches, were al.
most run with single blow she shiyered the
glass, and gave her name to Immortality.
Marat left q sister. who but short time
since was yet alive in Paris. A friend gives
me an interesting account of visit to her,
which lay before you
After hearing from the niece Of my old wash.
erwoman the interesting account Of the death
ofMsrat and the courageous behaviour Of Char
lotte Corday after the event. determined TO
hazard visit TO the sister Of Marat, who was
then living. Rue do Ia Barillerie, No. 80, was
the address given me. found an alley, mar
row and sombre, guarded by low gate
Upon the walk read these words "The por-
ter 10 to be found on the second flor |
mounted At the second floor, | demanded
Mademoiselle Marat The porter and his
wife looked At each other in silence. is it
here" asked, impatiently "Oh yes, SIR
" Is she at home 2 Always--this poor wo.
man is psralyz ed in the legsD HWhst story
will find her ~ Goa the seventh--the door
to the right!D The wife Of the porter, who
until then had said nothing, exclaimed, in n
bantering voice
"You will not find very young woman,
warrant you"
| continued to mount The staircase became
sleeper the walls without paint showed in full
day the dirty nakedness Of the plaster Ar
rived under the roof before q door badly closed,
knocked after some moments waiting, du-
ring which gave last glance Of the eye 10
tho wretchedness around me, the door opened
] stood struck with establishment The being
who opened the door and stood before me was
Marat himself had been warned OF her re-