Weekly Trinity journal., 1871-08-12
NUMBER 80.
A NEW ORLEANS ROMANCE.


often seen in the twilight of Summer evenings, q
singular appartion. Suddenly, on the banquette
of Music street, has appeared an old man, with
long gray hair, and clad in the costume of half a
century ago. The garments were faded and
worn, but revealed richness, which in earlier
days was more fitted for a court than Ameri-
can metropolis. He was a very tall man, al
though hunchback, and but for the detormity
would have been of gigantic proportions In
the breadth of the shoulders, the deep powerful
chest, and long nervous arms resided marvel
lous strength, while the lower limbs, fashioned
in magnificent strength and beauty, arrested at
teution and commanded admiration wherever he
appeared. lie spoke to no one, looked at no
one, but in silent abstraction pursued his lonely
walk far into the night. Years went by, and
night after night little children paused in their
play to watch the receding figure of the lonely
man.
1t must have beea forty years ago that he first
came among us. lie looked middle aged then
but as the years flew by the sturdy frame
mained flexible and active but the hair grew
gray and his face was scanned with wrinkles.
He lived in little brick building that set
back from the street, Wild vines crept over the
crumbling tiles and wreathed fantastic shapes
on the chimney tops. In the yard beautiful
flowers bloomed all the year round, and their
rich perfume made the air sensuous and sweet
At window shaded by tres-work, hid in
the bloom of roses, the old man sat of afternoons
and watched the suns decline. No one else
ever seen in the house--no one ever crossed the
threshold and so he lived, smeless, sad old
man, in lonely house
But, one day, not great while since, the
neighbors saw that the blinds in the house were
closed. The old man had not appeared on the
street for weeks, and the grass had begun to
grow from the chinks of the marble slabs at his
door, aud it began to be whispered about that
the old man was dead.
At last, one day the neighbors went in, (they
were poor people, but kindly and true) Sure
enough he was dead He lay pald and stark
on pallet Of straw. There were a few scatter
ed chairs around the room and plain table
One only object arrested the eye near the body
was rich casket, set in another of pearl and
gold. Jewels flashed from the costly lid, and
wreathed in the dust of diamonds engraved
/
They opened the box and there flashed on their
eyes the Bourbon diadem 1t was stolen the
night of the 10th of August, $780, when Charles
the Tenth abd lated the throne of France in fa-
vor of the Duke of Bordeaux. Underneath it
was n manuscript, written in French. 1t con-
taned only these words:
g ana Charette, the Vendeau General. Ma
ria of Savoy to have been my wife She
was taken from me and given to the Comte d'Ar.
tots. could have forgiven this, but he desert
ed me when most needed his help and assist
ance. | revenged myself and procured his over
throw and am happy since he died in exile"
This was all Over his life silence now draws
a veil. His wayward passions, his inward CON
| hicts, none estimate Lonely and sad he
perished in exile none could appreciate his in
juries let none Judge too harshly of his life.
sUMMGnrlHLp IN rnr EAsr-A Chicago paper
of a late date has the following
Our readers will remember the ingenious and
admirably told story of Gregory Summerfeld,
the man who had discovered the means and was
about to set the Pacific ocean on fire, and who,
in order to save the world from such a calamity,
was thrown from railroad train and killed by
pious philanthropst Subsequently two per-
sons set out to find the body of Sammerfeld,
and met oyer his decayng remains. bottle
containing the wonderful substance was taken
from the corpse The two men quarreled and
one killed the other. The survivor carried off
the bottle aud some papers belonging to Sum
merdeld. These stories were told in a Cafor-
lnfa |
Published at Honolulu, republished them, and
forthwith two persons wrote to that paper stat
ing that they knew Summerfeld we'll, and that
his real name was Alfred w. Arlington. In
early life, they say, Arlington was Methodist
clergyman of great talents and ambition he
afterw ards became lawhr and earned a brill
liant reputation in the Southwest. He was
much given to literature, using "SummerielG -
as his signature. Twenty years ago he was a
Judge at Brownsville, Texas. One of the writ
ers believes the California story. The other in
sists that Summerfeld is still living, and that
"old age has found him still believing in the
greatness of the secret that he alone possesses,
and confident in the belief that he can set the
ocean on fire." Chicago readers will recognize
in the description the late Judge A. W. AIRING
ton OF this city, who died here about three years
ago lie was gentleman of fine literary ability,
as we'll as oflegal attachments, He was a law
yer, orator and poet. Ii is possible that, in his
early life, he may have used the of Sum.
merlield as a literary signature, and these per-
sons living in the Sandwich Islands, believing
in the alleged story, may have assumed that he
was really the victim and the hero of the late
sensational romance
Tn4 Mount Gents Tanned is to DC opeaed for
traffic on the 18th instant