The Benton weekly record. [volume] (Benton, Mont.) 1880-1885, 1880-06-25
THE DEATH or RACHEL.

lt} uSSut SOlNt wine htiSlitlIt2 Sfeit $ceEe
,e mony at the Jewish synagogue of Ne1
III York in 1855, and that, through her hay
ing unfortunately neglected it, it eventll
s ally settled upon her lungs, and in a fey
,e1 months utterly destroyed the constitutio1
+ Of this very remarkable woman. 4 winte
y in Egypt, far from improving her health
L seems rather to have aggravated her NAL
+ ady, and on her return to France she wa
IS advised to spend the following winter 0
: 1857 at Nice. NJ. Sardou, with exduisit
b politeness, at once placed his villa at he
+ disposal, and, on her accepting it, NJ. Ma
: rio Nechard, the accomplished author o
T. ola Fiammetta,n who was inhabiting i
at the time, withdrew to another residence
: near Cannes.
/ When Rachel left Paris she was fully
: aware that her last days were drawing
. near, and before bidding a long farewell
l to her relatives and friends, she ordered
: her carriage and drove to the front of the
! Theatre Franchise, where she stayed a long
} time contemplating the scene of her great
| est triumphs. According to her sister,
Mile. Sarah Felix, who was in the car
riage with her, she did not, while thus
employed, utter a single word; but the
rapid changes of the expression on her
wonderful countenance spoke volume of
mental suferings and blighted hope.
The journey to the south was performed
by short and easy stages. At Draguignan
one of the stations on the road, a beggar
woman happened to come to the door of
the inn just as Mile. Rachel was getting
into her carriage. Touched by the .story
told by the poor old creature, the great
tragedienne opened her purse and gave
her two or three gold pieces. This act of
generosity exasperated Mile. Sarah, who
was very parsimonious person, and she
demonstrated with her sister for her prodi-
gality. Rachel quietly answered, "My
sister, what does it matter? In few days
shall be dead. Let me do what little
good can before | go. If the old woman
is an imposter, SO much the worse for her;
God will Judge with what intention gave
her aims.
On arriving at LIE Cannet she was re-
ceived by several eminent persons, among
others, by DR., Mature, her physician.
When she was introduced into her sleep
ing apartment she was seized with such a
paroxysm of terror at the sight of the
statue of Polmnia that her attend
ants thought she had lost her reason.
She stood before it, trembling from head
to foot, her brow contracted, and her eyes
flashing, and her cheeks glowing with an
unnatural, hectic flush. 'FTake away that
she cried in the hollow tone of voice which
had so often struck awe into the hearts of
thousands. ETake it away 1t has sealed
my doom, for under its shadow | shall
surely die In few moments her delir-
uln, for such it seemed to be, so increased
that, before the statue could be removed,
she was in strong conyulsions, which
were succeeded by a death-like torpor. On
recovering her senses, she explained the
cause of the horror the statue had occa-
stoned. On the night of July s, 1852, she
had a dream, in which she imagined her.
self in chamber draped in white; in the
center stood the figure of Polemnia, which
seemed to cry out to her, "Under the shad-
ow of my hand thou shalt surely die
This story was no invention, as was after
ward found by reference to an entry in an
old diary. Strange to relate: the statue
could not be removed from her room, and
was only concealed, without her knoWl-
edge, in All alcove above her bed.
Rachel, like MANY exceedingly imagina-
tive persons, was given to what in other
people would be called lying. She would
at times tell the most extraordinary un-
truths, and in perfect good faith, so that
her brother Raphael once told me it was
difficult to sift out the truth from the false
hood in what she said. If she liked peo-
pie, she imagined and related thousand
agreeable anecdotes about them; and, if
she hated them, any number Of enormi-
ties to illustrate their evil qualities. At
lie Cannet, however, a gravity came over
her Which showed that she was inwardly
preparing for the change that awaited her.
Almost the only book she now read was
the limitation. Being asked by skep-
tica1 friend what she considered its litera-
ry merits to be, she said, gravely, 'I do
not care what they are. If Monsieur, |
had been carefully educated and trained
from my youth, and had read this book
earlier in life, should have been a differ
ent woman. [ advise you to read it with
attention; its perusal will do you no harm" /"
She frequently retired to her room to pray,
and on several occasions held long con-
versations with her friend on religious
subjects. have been assured that shortly
before her death she was converted to Ca
tholicism and privately baptized.
When in Rome, in 1851, Rachel had fire.
quently expressed her adm iration of
Christianity, and was observed to be great
ly moved by the splendor of the rites in
the various basilcas. 1t was during the
sojourn IN the Eternal City that
she was presented to Plus 1A., under
somewhat peculiar circumstances. She
had been visiting the gardens of the Vati-
can, toward the close of Il very mild even
ing, when suddenly the Pope and his court
traversed the alley in which she was walk
ing She knelt as the Pontitf passed her,
and on one of his attendants whispering
who she was, he turned to bestow a bless
ing upon her. Rachel bowed low. His
Holiness addressed d few kindly words to
her and asked her} few questions on her
reli ligious opinions. Whether purposely OF
by accident, she is said to have answered
il the words spoken by Pauline in Cor-t
neille's superb drama of 'sPolyeucte, ;,
when that heroine becomes a Christian
ssJe vols, ie sails, ie crois, .je suis Chre-
tienne enfn''-a speech with which she.
used to electrify her hearers in the.I
days OF her glory.
Her life at lie Cannet was very simple.
She rose lit midday, and spent Il great
deal Of her time in sewing. an occupation
which, whilst it kept her employed, did
not excite her as did reading and CONVEX
sation. She also received a few visits, and
sometimes, when feeling well enough,
played cartis--her f&vo1ite amusement.
She was now always gentle and kind, and
still paid considerable attention to her
dress, which usually consisted Of white
muslin o. silk peignoir, with natural flow
ers i'll her hair. The kindness and atten
ton Of hersister Sarah cannot be exagger-
atea; She who was usually impetslous and
ill-tempered was now beyond praise pa
tent and loving.