Maryland free press., 1867-01-10
Horrible Life in q Palace.

A Paris correspondent of the New Orleani
t'Picayune" sends the following:
They bore q coffin from the Tuileries the other
day. Are you not disposed to envy the life of Z
man whose home was that palscef He was q
cousin of the French Emperor. Would yeu not
like to be the cousin of the French Emperor Hs
was the First Chamberlain and Superintendent
of the Imperial Theatres. Wouldn't you give the
world to be present at all the ceremonies of the
Imperial Court, to have the distribution of the
tickets to them, and to be the mortal whose very
sight wreathesin smiles the faces of haughtiest
stage beauties, and whose draughts on their
hearts they dare not protest? Indeed you would
He ha6 seventeen grand crosses of the highest
selectest orders in Europe. Don't you envy him7
Good reader, envy no man.
have seen many spoilt child of fortune in
his dressing gown. have never seen one
would have changed places with. Certainly
Count Bacciochi seemed handled by fortune ten
derby as she ever handles any one. lie was born
in the gilded cradle aud he trod life on carpet
Of roses; but he was the victim Of disease which
tortured him with barbarous cruelty Ii was one
of those nervous diseases beyond the reach Of
medical science. He could not remain still eth
er in chair or in bed without suffering the
acutest pain. The nerves Of motion were affect
ed. He transacted business on foot; he dictated
letters and lists Of invitation he paced his Of
fee. He listened to the performance Of operas in
his lattice box, which had no seat in it, and was
covered with thick carpet, that he might walk
dnring the whole performance. He saw ballets
from, tho alma of tha 0ffap Ii
take the duilest book issued from the prese, have
candles lighted in broad daylight, and read the
stupid work until he caught its heaviness and
was composed to sleep. Sometimes sleep would
not come, even when so summoned; then he
would walk u,t! he had 50 exhausted the body
that the nerves were insensble to pain, :ad sleep
would become necessary to life. On one occa-
sion he walked without internission fer ,hirty-six
hours, trying TO subdue pain by fatigue.
The soles of his feet were red, as if they had d
been boiled aad blood had heen forced through
all their pores. The Emperor gave i'm rooms
adjoining one of of tho largest passages of the
Tuileries, and had it covered with a thick Am.
busson carpet, that the poor patient might en-
joy his painful round with least pain. He died
of sheer exhaustion from want of sleep. Shortly
before he died he marmured, "Norine! Norine!''
| repeatedly.
'What is that?" Do you want anything?''
asked one of the persons present.
"Don't question Inc, replied the dying man.
Norine was little shop girl of Leghorn, his
first love; she is now an old wrinkled shopkeepsr
Of that city, and has quite family. The dying
man, though he hal lived in palaces amid the
rank and beanty of Europe, was f,miliar with
the prettiest woman behind the f,ouights,
thought of none of the pagenntry and pomp O.
his career. Ther were vanity of vaniies. AL hi:
last thoughts belonged to the humble maiden
whose lip had first breathed love into his ear
This was the oasis in lifes desert-the rest wa.
| a II sand.