New Orleans daily crescent. [volume] ([New Orleans, La.]) 1851-1866, 1854-01-30
Love Affairs of ndirabsau.

Miraoeau absconded but instead Of flying to
Switzerland he concealed himself in the town Of
Pontarlier, where the charms of Madame de
Monnier still retained him Information of his
residence at Pontarlier and Of his interview with
SOPHIE spread again through the province The
family OF De Ruffey. to remove Madame De Mon
nIer irem the place, summoned her to Dion
ailrasean followed her thither in secret. Their
intercourse being suspected, they were watched
and discovered Mirabeau was arrested by the
Kings order and shut up in the castle Of Dion.
while Sophie returned TO her husband at Pontar-
ier. -
The irresistible seduction Of Mirabaau was
exercised at Dijon, as at Joux and at the Chat
eau DIFF, on those who guarded him NJ de
Montherot, cemmandant Of the Castle of Dion.
could not prevent his military heart from low
ing, plying and serving the young man He
forwarded without scruple the correspondence
of Mirrbeau with Madame de Mennier, his FAM
lily and the ministers; he wrote himself to NJ
Malesherbes and to the Minister Of Tar, for the
pardon of his prisoner, and to solicit his liberia
tion- He even allowed him TO go at liberty, on
his parole, in Dion. Mirabeau availed himself
Of this door, which NJ de Montherot uninten-
TALLY opened for him, to fly into Switzerland
He drew nigh to Sophie. concealing himself at
Nerriere, q hamlet of the Swiss mountains, in
the vicinity of Pontarler
: On the news of this fight, the families of De
Ruffey and Mennier kept Sophie in strict do
mestic captivity at Pontariier, but despair and
love enabled her tofnd aeeomplices amongst her
servants to aid her in corresponding with Mira
beau She eonjured him to permit her to sacri--
fee everything to their re uni, IN. During the
night she scaled the walls of Nj de Monnier's
garden: and, in the dress of man, guarded
only by single guide, she clambered over the
mountains which separate Pontarlier from swift
zerland, crossed the frontiers and joined Mira
beau at Verriera; there they concealed for a
fyran ftYatr .l.s A
searches OF their families. They deluded them
selves with solitude and with dreams, but
neither Of them had brought with them the ne
eessary means of existence e
Switzerland offered neither safety nor liter
ary labor for Mirabeau and indigence drove
them to Holland. Mirabeau, as yet unknown
to fame, or only known by the scandal of his
youth, nobly sought work from the rich book
sellers of Holland, to whom the freedom of
thinking gave, at this period, monopoly of
political and philosophical publications Re-
butfed in the first instance he persevered till he
procured the publications OF his g Essay on
Despotism." He labored day and night upon
all subjects to preserve Sophie from want; he
even prostituted his pen to those licentious
hbels with which the venal press of Holland at
that time infected Europe. He earned his
| bread at the price of his modesty, and con-
trived, by dint of his lucuhrations and the SER
! Witty Of a hired writer, to live in laborious
fnediocrity at Amsterdam, under the name Of
| st. Matthieu.
He was at length informed Of tn birth oF
| his daughter in the prison of Mad do saElier
but he was refused a sight of her ssI could
destroy everything he wrote through a lnys-
terious channel to its mother, 81 revolt against
| the whole universe. / could wish this moment
| to make you a holocaust Of everything that is
neither you nor me; but, very different from
| Jephtha, 1 should make an exception of my
Il ,Y,rIA 4
Y1ye. The first rigors of Mirabeau's prison
we're at length softened, not by paternal indul-
gence, but by the interest which his letters, full
OF the desparing eloquence of the suppIiant,
excited in NJ. Lenoir, the manager of the prison,
! and in M. Bonchier, the intermedium between
the prisoner and the Government. He was
allowed books, paper, study, and even cores
| pondenoe with Sophie, unknown o the two
families. Their letters, which multiplied with
the hours as they flew, and were interchangeable
| as hope, as burning as memory, as heart-rend-
| ing as the cry of the victim on the scaffold.
nourished with delirium during two years of
solitude the famished soul of the prisoner.
| This correspondence is the longest cry of grief,
of passion, and sometimes of genius. that ever
| issued from the heart of a man.
Wearied, broken down by solitude, he de-
scended to unworthy lapses Of character to OBJ
| tain his liberty. He wrote obscene books to
| purchase. by this infamous resource, SO ne re-
lief to the misery and destitution of Sophie. He
lent his eloquence anonymously to his mother,
| IN the judicial writings she published for her
| defense against his father; a species of mental
| parricide which neresentmeDt could excuse. and
| which he himself did not attempt to palliate
| when his conscience regained its proper tone.
tie debased himself TO his father by supplica-
tlons and hollow adulatio that belied his senti-
ments and his honor He negotiated, without
her participation, for the abandonment and BAN
ishment of Sophie, who had sacrificed herself for
| him at the price of her liberty He fiastt rcd
the likings and dislikings of his father TO redeem
his favor at an unworthy price, and by dint Of
these unworthy concessions of feeling and char
! acter he at lengthaobtained his liberty
Three years captivity had subdued him, but
had rather perverted than improved his dispose
tion He was scarcely ont of prison when he
had 10 defend himself on the capital charge for
rape, brought against him by the Monnier fam
lily, and to procure reversal of the penalty of
death to which the parliament of Basancon had
condemned him. He threatened the families of
DE Rutfey and De Monnier with the fame of his
name, the power of his talent, and the scandal
| of his revelations; aud he finally obtained, by
| the force of his threats, a compromise, which
saved his head, but lett t; stain on his probity.
| He stipulated, however, before everything, for
the freedom aud Independent existence of So
| phie; but though still suffering under the dis
grace of his adulrereus passion, he endeayored
by another lawsuit to e0usttaln his outraged
| wife-so much did he coyet her fortune to re-
sume his name and return to the conjugal roof.
He went to Provence to plead this cause himself );
there, alternately hostile and caressing, he con-
founded the family of De Marignan by his legal
proceedings and even went the length of reveal
ing to the world the secrets of his domestic in
tereourse, and of casting the slur of dishonor
upon mis- wife The court gave Judgment against
him, and rescued from him a wife whom be him
self had branded with shame eve while he
summoned her back to his arms.
His father having recalled him, allowed him q
miserable pittance on condition of his procuring
his mothers silence and undertaking the publi-
| cation Of his theories. He was crushed, how
ever, under the burden of his debts; the eonse-
quence of his faults still pursued him; his name
became disreputablo, his inattention and for
getfulness to Sophie, together with his disor-
derly life, deprived him at length of her esteem,
and finally of her affection. [Lsmartine
Amidst the many hlttering aud high -soundi ng
epaphs which be found in all thickly populate
grsve-ysrds, the following reads strangely
My name. my country, what they to thee
What whether high or low, my pedigree2
4 Perhaps far surpassed all other men
4 Perhaps fell behind them all-what them
Suffice, stranger, that thou seest tomb.