The Manitowoc tribune. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1866-1878, 1869-05-20

lowing morning, an hour before l was to
take the train for New York, French de-
clared he ''did not care tuppence to read
what was doubtless the lucubrations of
some loye-sick swain," though three
years afterwad, by the way, he was at
tackled with the same disease in a very
malignant form. Ballard, also a matter
of fact chap, said he could read it at any
time, and that had better take it and
amuse myself with it on my way to the
city. Accordingly, as soon as the cars
were in motion, | glanced at the MS, at
first, [ confess, rather hstlessly. My at.
tentlon, however, very soon became
deeply absorbed; ncr was it withdrawn
until the lights of the city announced the
end OF my journey. | had expected to
find either few i'll digested thoughts, or
a sketch of an ordinary life On the
contrary, found the writer to have been
a person of unusual observation, and one,
moreover, who possessed the facility OF
putting the results of tha observation on
paper in remarkably clear and natural
manner. The MS. chiefly consists of the
writer's experience at number of enter
tainments given Saratoga to some of
our distinguished Americans IN the sum-
mer Of 1928. Nor can the glimpses, here
presented, of cultivated American Society
forty years ago, when Saratoga was truly
a resort where the statesman, the scholar
and the professional man could throw
aside the harness in innocent and genial
intercourse fail to interest the present
generation. The many anecdotes, also,
given by the writer of Joseph Bonaparte,
Lafayette, Sands, Fulton, jackson and
others, are so new if, indeed, they are
not entirely unknown, that no apology is
needed for giving copious extracts from
the diary
Throughout the Ms. it is rare that the
insanity, which finally led the writer to
take his life, is noticeable. He was evil
identity de licately nurtured youth, who
had pored over Shelley until his mind
had become imbued with the cratic
thought exquisitely beautiful conceptions
of that poet; and like Alastor, he had
been leading wandering life for some
time previous to his arrival at the Springs
The Diary begins with the day of his ar
rival at Saratoga. IF he had kept any
note previously, he must have destroyed
them.
THE DIARY.
Saratoga Springs, dug. LIST, 1923
Arrived this morning in the Albany
stage-coach.
In the evening, attended a little gather
ing given by Mrs. d. Clark to bring out
Mr, Nicholas Hill-a young lawyer on a
visit here. whoChancellor Kent and other
jurists think will make brilliant member
of the bar. Mr.. Clark, together with
Mr.. Walthon, is the PATRON Of the vii
lage, having spared neither pains nor ex-
pense to develop its mineral springs.
The party, on the whole, passed off
agreeably, though married by one or two
absurdities Miss b, a reigning
belle at the Congress, seemed to think
that she could best please by boring
those near her with silly conundrums.
One of these was s'Why ought one to
ride easily at Saratoga Because it is
full of springs. AS she is very beauti-
full. and belle, every one laughed and
appeared to think it good joke, which
it might have been, perhaps, had it not
been gotten off for the nlne-hundredth
time this season. During the evening also,
Mr.. Hill-who, by the way, expects to
make this village his home-asked this
same lady, if he should read to her IN
''The Deserted Village" in the morning?
ooh, no." she replied, "thats seven
miles off, and the road is dusty. Let's
go and sit among the rocks ct the High
Rock Spring, where that naughty Sir
William johnson used to bring his Indian
wives. It's so romantic l''-Still all the
conversation was not of a like vapid ma
ture. There were many sensible people
present, the conversation OF whom was
highly entertaining. Rev. Mr.. Griswold,
the Presbyterian minister, was present.
looking for all the world like Goldsmith s
''Village Pastor, ia man, to all the
country dear, and passing rich with forty
pounds year,. And yetsson this small
income he manages to educate younger
brother living somewhere in Connecticut
Joseph Bonaparte, who is at present
the guest Of Mr.. Walton. did not arrive
until quite late. He was accompanied
by his sister, Caroline Murat. and two
young ladies. his daughters. Though a
crowned king he looks very much like
other mortals Their manners, dress and
equipage are wholly unassuming, quiet
and unpretentious The rank is there
and needs no demonstrations. The delay
a little incident which occurred while he
was at dinner to-day with Mr.. Walton.
It is certainly singular It seems that in
the course of the dinner Bonaparte. sud
denly turned deathly pale, and with the
perspiration standing in great beads on
his forehead turned imploringly to Mr.:
Walton and gasped-,,'asa chat! an CHAIR
John said Mr.. Walton to his waiter !;
take away that cat +; it disturbs the gen
tleman. y Cat, sir r replied the waiter
81 can find no cat. The other members
of the family now joined in the search !;
and at last, under the massive sideboard,
crouched In one corner, was poor, little,
frightened kitten. But it was not until
Bonaparte had laid down for some hours
that he fully recovered from the nervous
prostration into which he had been
thrown. | have heard of such instances
before, but have always attributed them
to extreme nervousness or atfectatlon.
No one, however, can look at Bonaparte
and justly accuse him of either.
Mr. Bryant and Mr. Sands were, also,
among the guests. From conversation
| overheard, during the evening, [ was
more than ever led to exclaim, deliver
me from my friends. Messrs. Bryant
and Sands, who are very intimate, were
sitting together on lounge in corner
of one of the drawing-rooms. A gentle
man standing behind me directed the at
tention of friend to the two poets, and
said, There Mr.. Bryant believes that
Sands is the best friend he has, and they
are now talking over their Atlantic Cltb
Book, which they are to edit together.
And yet, that satirical article which ap-
peared in the ConnaerciaI Adrertiser last
week, against Bryant, and which caused
ed the latter to attack its editor in Broad
with horsewhip, was written by Sands
himself, and no other! Still, Sands is a
kind-hearted creature, who steps out OF
the way for a worm. but, like many others,
he could not resist the onnnrfunity of let