The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1882-11-04

Lambert gives us fervid picture of the
scene, the little AlteSse Imperial on his
silver cushion and the Royal beast OF
prey beside him. THE devout Impera-
tricc, after the last prayer was said, lifted
the child high in her arms and again de-
voted him to God -
A glimpse into the domestic life of
the day is given in the account of Pol
ish Princess, who escaped July, 1879,
from the dungeon of castle, in which
her husband had kept her immured for
ten years. He pursued her with sixty
Uhlans and captured her on the banks
of the Dneiper, where she appealed for
aid to the neighboring Regards.
There is, too, a Claimant story with
some dramatic points: Among the Grim
inal cases reported from the French
| courts in 1880 is that of merchant of
Toulouse, who in 1865, being heavily in
debt, bought the corpse of a man resemb-
| ling himself, dressed it in his own
clothes, locked it up in his vacant cha
teau and then decamped to India. A
month later the body was found and
hastily buried, and after a due amount
| of mourning, the widow married again.
Fifteen years afterward the debtor re-
turned with enough rupees to pay off his
creditors and to support his old estate
with splendor, but the wife refused to
recognize him, and the second husband
caused his arrest as an impostor.
On every page of the newspaper are
these imperfect silhoutte pictures of the
old times and customs. Packs of starry
ing wolves descend upon lonely villages
in France and tear children from their
mothers arms. The black plague attacks
town and leaves one dead in almost
every house. All the villagers assemble
in the chapel, hang black mortuary
cloth over the bell, and with sad, slow
steps take their way across the hills never
to return. A poet or painter might find
a suggestion in this old news item
fathers, lovers and mothers departing, in
the soft glow of sunset, leaving behind
the accursed hamlet, their homes and
| their unburied dead.
Or, here is material for a hot-pressed
sensational novel. Captain Charles Ross,
of Hammersmith, England, secretly
married the daughter of one of the gent
ry." and soon afterward was ordered to
America. His wife, disguised as a man,
followed him, reached Philadelphia dur
ing its occupation by the British, and dis
covered him wounded in a farm house in
| New jersey. She disclosed herself to
him, and his commanding officer,
| touched by the story, sent Ross back to
England on sick leave with a letter in
tended to melt the heart of her stern
| father. But the exposure had been too
much for her, and we read a month or
two later that mistress Ross was taken
on shore at Liverpool i'll, and it was
feared would not reach Hammersmith
| alive"
Here comes riding down the land, out
of the Arabian Nights Prince from
Muscat to Warsaw, seeking his fortune.
&" He is only nineteen" says M. Lam
bert. He comes to form himself with
the beaux arts, the sciences of Europe.
He has in his suite thirty persons, horses
of rare speed. and ten camels laden with
spices and the preserved foods used in
the East" 1t might be Sindbad on his
| first venture.
The Journal gives an account, too, OF
ga monument which the people of the
United States propose to erect in the
square facing the Palais de Justice, in
Philadelphia, to Liberty and Louis XVI. ="
in order, according to the inscription,
"that the gratitude of the Republic to
that great sovereign might be known to
all future ages"
Is there any record of such a plan in
the annals of old Philadelphia? l am
afraid the monument was designed and
built by some jealous penny-a-liner for
M. Lambcrt's paper.
But the actual glimpses of real people
and their doings in this old journal have
a strong fascination in them, though
really | do not know why we should
concern ourselves more for them than for
the Smiths and Browns of whom we read
in this morning. news. But they affect
us as do the human figures in sterco-
scopic pictures, which were caught by
chance as they crossed the landscape.
1t is impossible that we should ever know
anything about them, yet they trouble
US with an uneasy curiosity and sense OF
kinship. We want to stop them and
force them to give an account of them
selves.
Unfortunately have not the next wear
of the Journal. These fragments OF
human history have no end. l shall
never know whether the poor Polish
Princess was hauled again to her dun,
geon, nor whether that tricky (but in the
end honorable) Claimant gained his wife
and estate, or ended his days in the gal
leys; nor what was the fate of the boy.
Prince from Arabia on his strange pill.
grimage, Nor does the fact that they
all by this time have turned into dust and
heritage and leaves together satisfy my
curiosity one whit.-Rebecc0 Harding