Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1875-08-11

irony he added, "Any government
would be better than this"
POOR CARLOTTA.
The Last MournfM Days of the Widow
of Maximiian.
Rome Letter to the Philadelphia Bulletin.
A month or six weeks past there ap.
peared in several of the European Jour
nails an extremely interesting account
of the poor Empress Carlotta. It has
been reprinted, see, in the American
newspapers, 1 was talking of this &C.
count lately with person who knows a
great deal of European courts, and the
private affairs of royalties. This per-
son said: "The description given of
the present life and habits of the EN-
press leads one to believe that she is no
longer insane; she may be melancholy,
but she has her reason. and is sternly
refusing to hold communication with
the outside world, in which she suffered
so much sorrow. Is not that the i'm
preston it made upon you?" l replied
in the affirmative, and, apropos to the
Empress's mode of life, told my Wis
itor strange and interesting story had
heard thatmorning of lady who had suf-
fered fatal grief thathad swept away from
her all human hope and help. She was
woman of fortune, high Gull
ture, learned, indeed: she was sin
gularly alone in life; all her near rela-
tives were dead. She was about thirty.
i've years of age. She lived in an ele-
gantly-furnished apartment; one of the
rooms was fine library; all on one flat,
en- suite, as is common in European
houses. She dismissed her servants,
for thirty years refused to hold any in
tercourse with society, and led an entire
ly solitary life. Every morning con-
tidential servant entered door that was
left unlocked at a certain hour. She
went into the bedroom and put it in Or
der, also the dining room, removing the
dishes of the preceding day, and placed
on the table the food for the succeeding
twenty-four hours; but she never saw
her mistress. Written orders, made in
the concisest, clearest form, were left
from time to time ON the dining or
dressing table. Through these orders
all business was directed, and every
thing was provided that was needed by
the recluse. The whole suite of rooms,
excepting the dining, sleeping and
dressing rooms, remained strictly closed
for thirty years. People talked great
deal at first, but in time the lady and
her solitary life were forgotten.
The original confidential servant died
and another person succeeded to the
post, but nothing changed the habits Of
the lady-she was never. seen by any
one. Thirty years went by. Then one
morning the servant found the bed
undisturbed, the food untouched. She
forced the doors and searched for her
mistress. She passed through long
succession Of rooms. A thick bed of
dust lay over every article of furniture,
silent covering over carpets and floors
But straight through the rooms was a
narrow, direct path to the end room or
library, path swept clean by the long
trailing garments of that solitary woman
in her daily walk of thirty years. It
swerved neither to the right nor to the
left The servant followed the strange
path to the library. There she found
her mistress seated at reading table
in a high-backed chair. Her hands
were folded peacefully in her lap, her
head was leaning back. The sad, worn
old face was calm and still. She had,
at last, gone to that other solitude,
Death. On the table were Homer and
Virgil. They seemed to be the only
books she had read, as the others on til
shelves were bound with the dust of
years. There was not one written line
or word left. The solitary thirty years
had ended, as they had been lived, in
solemn silence. The sorrowing woman
at last knew the great secret, which told
her why she had been called to suffer
such keen mental anguish that it had
snapped the bonds between her and her
kind. After I had finished this story,
my friend said, with a fine, sarcastic
smile: eyes, this is very affecting;
but we must bring ourselves back to
earth with stern realities. All such
stories are fables, and no greater fable
is there than this one published of
the poor Empress of Mexico. It is q
pious fable, however, invented by her
friends to throw around her last days
an air of decorous dignity that does not
exist. Their loving care for her memo
ry induces them to send forth this beau
tiful romance of an imaginary daily life
led by a beautiful, sternly sorrowful
and refined woman. I wish it were
true, but unhappily the reality is as re-
Voting as the romance is attractive.
The Empress, instead of being better in
health is worse, and her death, it Is be-
]ieved, is close at hand. For some time
her insanity has taken the most british
form. She never leaves her bed, and
has all the habits OF an animal. The
poor Queen of Belgium has been unable
for :, two years to bear the disgusting
sight Of unhappy Carlotta, but now, as
she cannot live many months, the
Queen goes constantly to her. This is
the sad truth" ANNE BREWSTER.
A New Counterfeit.
From the Boston Globe, July "A.
A counterfeit So bill on the Ninth