New Orleans Republican. [volume] (New Orleans, La) 1867-1878, 1875-06-06
Pere Autoine,s Date.Palm.

Near the levee and not far from the old
French Cathedral and the Place d'Armes
at New Orleans, stands q fine date palm
thirty feet in height, spreading its broad
leaves in the alien air as hardly as if Its
sinuous roots were sucking strength from
their native earth. Sir Charles in his Sec
ond Visit to the United States" mentions
this exotic:
1.-THE tree is seventy or eighty years old
for Pere Antoine, a Roman Catholic priest
who died some twenty years ago, told Mr.
Bringier that he planted it himself when he
was Young. In his will he provided that
they who succeeded to this lot of ground
should forfeit it if they cut down this palm. y
Wishing to know something of Pere An
tones history, Mr.. Charles Lyell made in
quiries among the ancient Creole inhab
itants of the taubOurg.
That the old priest in his last days be-
came very much emaciated; that he walked
about the streets like mummy; that he
gradually dried up and finally blOwed
away, was the meagre and unsatisfactory
result of the tourists investigation. This
ia all that is generally told of Pere An
tome.
In the summer of 1861, while New Orleans
was still occupied by the rebel forces, met
at Alexandria, in Virginia, lady from Lou
isiana-Miss BlOndeau by name-whO gave
me the substance of the following legend
touching Pere Antoine and his wonderful
date palm. If it should appear tame to the
reader it is because ! am not habited in a
black ribbed silk dress, with strip of point
lace around my throat like Miss Blondeau;
it will be because lack her eyes, and lips,
and Southern music to tell it with.
When Pere Antoine was very young
man he had friend whom he loved as he
loved his life. Emile Jardin returned this
passion, and the two on account of their
friendship became the marvel of the city.
One was never seen without the other, for
they studied, walked. ate and slept to-
gether.
Thus began Miss Blondeau, with the air
of Fammetta telling her prettiest story to
the Florentine in the garden of BOccaccio.
Antoine and Emile we're preparing to
enter the church. Indeed, they had ia ken
the preliminary steps when circumstance
occurred which changed the color of their
lives. A foreign lady, from some nameless
island in the Pacific, had few months be-
fore moved into their neighbOrhood. The
lady died suddenly, leaving a girl OF sixteen
or seventeen, entirely friendless and unpro-
vided for. The young men had been kind
to the woman during her illness, and at her
death-meltiDg with pity at the forlorn
situation of Anglice the daugbter-swore
between themselves to love and watch over
her as if she were their sister.
Now, Anglice had a wild, strange beauty
that made other women seem tame beside
her: and in the course of time the young
men found themselves regarding their ward
not SO much like brothers as at first In
brief, they found themselves in love with
her. They struggled with their hopeless pas
sion month after month, neither betraying
his secret to the other; for the austere or
ders which they were about to assume pre-
cluded the idea of love and marriage. Until
then, they had dwelt in the calm air of re-
ligious meditatons, unmoved except by that
pious fervor that in other ages taught men
10 brave the fortunes OF the rack and to
smile amid the flames. But a blonde girl,
with great eyes. ana a voice like the soft
notes of a vesper hymn had come in be
tween them and their ascetic dreams of
heaven. The ties that had bound the young
men together snapped silently one by one.
AT length each read in the pale face Ut the
other the story of his own despair.
And she! Ii Anglice shared their trou-
hles, her face told no story. Ii was like the
face of saint on cathedral window.
Once, however, as she came suddenly upon
the two men, and overheard words that
seemed to burn like fire on the lips of the
speaker, her eyes grew luminous for an
instant Then she passed on, her face as
immobie as before in its setting OF wavy,
golden hair.
Entire or et vous,
Dieu nit les longs cheyeuX.'
One night Emile and Anglice were miss
ing. They had flown-but whittier nobody
knew, and nobody save Antoine cared. 1t
was heavy blow to him, for he had him.
self half resolved to confess his love 10
Anglice and urge her to fly with him.
A strip Of paper slipped from volume
on Antoine's prize dieu and huttered to his
feet.
"Do not be angry" said the bit of paper,
niteously; ''forgive US. for we love"
Three years went by YEARLY enough.
Antoine had entered the church, and was
already looked on as rising man, but bis
face was pale and his heart leaden, for
there was no sweetness liz life for him. For
with outlsndish postmarks, was brought to
the young priest-a letter from Anglice.
She was diving; would he forgive her!