Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1879-07-02
Not One Friend in all America.


There was day when Talleyrand
arrived in Havre, in great haste from
Paris. IL was in the darkest hours of
the French Revolution. Pursued by
the bloodhounds of the Reign OF Ter
ror, stripped of every wreck of proper
ty or power, Talleyrand secured pas
sage TO America in a ship about to sail.
He was going beggar and wanderer
to a strange land, to earn his bread by
his daily labor.
lis there any American staying at
your house2" he asked the landlord of
his hotel. '-I'm bound to cross the
water, and would like letter to some
person of influence in the New World.n
The landlord hesitated a moment,
and then replied
fThere is a gentleman up stairs eth
er from America or Britain; but wheth-
er an American or Englishman | can
not tell
He pointed the way, ana Talleyrand
who in early life was bishop, prince,
and afterwards prime minister, as
cended the stairs. \ miserable suppli-
ant, he stood before the strangers door,
knocked, and entered.
In the far corner of the dimly light
ed room sat gentleman of some fifty
years. his arms folded, and his head
bowed on his breast. From window
directly opposite, flood of light pour
ed over his forehead. His eyes, looking
from beneath the downcast brOws.
gazed in Talleyrand's face with pecu-
liar and searching expression. His
face was striking in its outline, the
mouth and chin indicative of an iron
will. His form, vigorous, even with
the SHOWS of fifty winters, was clad in
a dark, but rich and distinguished cos
tune.
Talleyrand advanced, stated that he
was a fugitive, ani under the impress
sion that the gentleman before him
was an American, he solicited his kind
feeling and offices. poured forth his his
tory in eloquent French and broken
English.
Il am wauderer-an exile | am
forced TO fly to the New World, with
out friend or hope. You are an
American. Give me, | beseech you, a
letter of yours, so that | may be able to
earn my bread. | am willing TO toll in
any manner; the scenes of Paris have
filled me with such horror, that a lie
of labor would be a paradise TO career
of luxury in France. lou will give
me letter TO one of your friends. \
gentleman like you has doubtless many
friends.
The strange gentleman rose. With
a look at Talleyrand never forgot, he
retreated towards the door of the next
chamber, his head still downcast his
eyes looking still from behind his dark
ened brow. He spoke as he retreated
backwards-his voice was full OF mean
ing.
Il am the only man born in the New
World who can rise his hand to God
and say, have not a friend, not one in
all America -
Talleyran d never forgot the over
whelming sadness of the look that sc-
companied these words.
'Who are yOu:" he cried, a. She
strange gentleman retreated towards
the next room. Your name:"
My name with a smile that had
more mockery than joy i'll its convul-
sive expression-"My name is Benedict
Arnold :"
lie has gone. Talleyrand sank in a
chair, gasping the words
"Arnold. the Traitor, one who has
betrayed his country"
Thus Arnold wandered over the
earth, another Cain, with a wanderers
mark on his brow. Even in the Sc
cluded room, at that inn of Havre, his
crime found him ont, and forced him to
tell his name-that name the synonym
of infamy.
The last twenty years of Arnold's life
were covered with a cloud from whose
darkness but flew CLEANS of light
fash out upon the page pf history.