Arizona weekly citizen., 1889-09-28
A MODERN CLEOPATRA.
sREAT AND EVIL FORTUNE OF PAU
 LINE BONAPARTE'S NIECE.

Beautiful and Agreeable, She Is Surrounded
 by the Wise, the Witty and the Power
 fuI-A Great Sorrow That Came Through
 Her Love for Her Little Daughter.
 Never say that one is fortunate till yos,
 witness the close of his or her life. You
 must have seen in your diplomatic wan.
 derings in Paris, Turin, Florence, Rome
 and Madrid that worthy niece Gin regard
 to beauty and so on) of Pauline Bona.
 parte, Marie LRtitia Bonaparte- Wyse,
 successively, by her marriages, Comtesse
 de Solms, Signora Rattazzi and Dona de
 Rute
 Was there ever human being whose
 life seemed so rosy as hers, or whom
 nature had made more proof to the vex-
 ations and troubles which lie heavy on
 most daughters of Eve? In many re-
 spectsthis fair offshoot of the Bonapartes
 afforded parallel to Cleopatra, who, l Mrs. Jameson says, was bewitching to
 the last because she exercised the sor- cery of good nature Like Cleopatra,
 Marie Bonaparte-Wyse was sparkling, genial, magnificent, of happy-g go-lucky temper and Bohemian, if one looks upon | -lchemianism as emancipation from cant and mind crippling prejudices, some of which, l own, may have their social uses.
 HER GUESTS AT THE FOLLY"
 She had always in her train the mos. eminent men of the different capitals, in which she turned up periodically to shins out for short time in splendid belong sngs and surroundings. She also shone as muse, whose fingers were never soiled with ink, and who stole from Venus her girdle and cortege of graces. Her house, or palace, or chalet, near Ak, was in the daytime given up to authorship, editorship and preparation sOr festivity, and to elegant revelry in the evening. The lady of the house when she saw company (and nobody ever knew when she was not seeing iD was in raj ment of dazzling beauty. But she looked in it and in her wondrous jewelry as pleased as a child in a pretty Sunday frock, and courted admiration in a way that enhanced her sorcery.
 never saw Lady Blessington, she hav- ing been long before my time. But l fancy that there must have been points of similarity between her Gore house parties and those of the particular great niece of the great Napoleon of whom I speak. 4 more picturesque or amusing salon than that of Mime. Rattazzi de Ruts nobody could fancy. She was constant to old friends, was always recruiting new ones. and was bospitable to all. Old Dumas used to copy manuscripts and help to cook her dinners, which were served on vermeil plate, with the impe- rial crown and eagle engraved on them. A few winters ago she entertained four prime ministers, Baron von Beust, De Lesseps, Castelar,, and bards from all parts, at a joyous dinner at Trouville.
 The most roseate phase of her life was St the Hotel d'Aquila, which she after ward sold to Mrs. Mackay's sister. She was then for three or four years the widow of Sig. Rattazzi, and then the bride of quite young Spanish deputy, Don Luis de Rute. The Hotel d'Aquila was ''folly" of the uncle of the ex-king of Naples, who ruined himself in build hg it, and was fitted up by Mime. Rat tazzi according to her Cleopatran taste for elegant magnifcence. The hall was surrounded by marble busts and statues of the Bonaparte family, and facing the emperor was one of herself letting fall an armful of roses.
 THE SORROW THAT CAME.
 Don Luis de Rute was 8 nephew of Rosas, the Spanish liberal, man of pany accomplishments, and the unde- niable countryman of Don Quixote. If ever a man was held in willing bondage by woman, he was by his wife, of whom he was the devoted, humble ser want, never seeking to curtail her liberty or objecting to any of her friends. The glamour she cast upon him when he fist saw her as muse at Madrid, surround. sd by a court of bards and statesmen, never faded from his eyes. She valued his devotion to her and to beautiful daughter whom she had had by Rattazzi, and became deeply ir love with him. Mime. de Rute presented her husband with twins, one of whom died at its birth. The surviving one was called Dolores or Lola" It seemed a ridicu- ious misnomer All that was joyous Ind rosy in tl;e mothers life appeared 70 be incarnaie in the child, which was paragon of !nfantile beauty and pre- ,ocious wit and intellect. Dolores be- came the idol of the household, and was ss sunshine Wherever she went. People ased to say what luck her mother had 10 be 30 blessed in her maternity. But ~ait bit. The luck was to bring forth m eternal blight and sorrow upon sor. row
 Lola was playing in her mothers grounds at Ak. 4 horse near which she nn lashed out and kicked her on the orehead. The child was taken in dead O father and mother, with her brains sozing out through gaSh. could not nave conceived the latter broken hearted and utterly crushed had not seen her. Since this calamity she took no interest n anythipg but portraits and busts of Loia, which she tried to paint and mode! .rom memory. The unfortunate De 9ute said to me: 1.-The least thing would low kill ne. Since Dolores was taken rom ma l feel an old man, though not ret forty-five. The gashed forehead of he little beauty is always present in my mind. It's misfortune to have ten fer heart, because heart sufferings are 70 excruciating." 1 see !D t!se papers dlat a small thing did carry off this dis 5nguished and amiable Spaniard. He caught cold at Granada, which devel-. | oped into inflammation o? the lungs end silled him. He died with cross in his | sand in which lock of the child's haiI | Eas set. and which be cut off when she 1