The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1897-12-27
LATlNQUARTER TRAGEDY
QUEEN OF PARIS MODELS BLIND,
DISFIGURED AND DYING.
Maddened by jealousy, Her Rival
Threw VitriOI, ant Is Now Co
ing Insane in Prison.

ing Insane In Prison.
NEW YORK, Dec. 26.--The Journals Paris
| correspondent says: story of beauty, of
| love- of intrigue, of jealousy, of art and of
! tragedy is this. 1t tells of two beautiful
women and a man who loves beauty. This
| tragedy of despair and love is laid in the
| gayest city of the world in the most pic
| turesque part of Paris, the Latin Quarter,
and among the most picturesque people, the
artists. 1t tells how one woman destroyed
the beauty of another with the awful OBJ
literant, vitrol, and how one is lying in
| Paris hospital and the other losing her rea-
son in a French prison.
Lucie Hagerland and Rosa Juidcelli were
! friends once. THAT was in the days when
they were strangers in Paris. Lucie Hager-
land had come from Alsace a week before.
She had intended to learn the poetry of
dressmaking as it is known best in the
French capital. An artist strolled down the
Rue Dragon one afternoon. He had come
| from Julian's school, and the vision of half
| finished paintings, of statuettes, of draw
| ings, leaving him tortured at the thought of
| their incompieteness, was before him. He
| lounged into a little shop and bought
| cigar. At the rear of the shop he
| girl talking with the ShopkeeperS wife. The
artist forgot to light his cigar
THE very girl for my Diane" he ex-
| claimed. Slight figure, long limbed, fea-
| lures of the classic rural type. / wish 1 had
my ochre this minute to get my impression
| of that hair That's rare blue tint in her
eyes; how it changes! What shame to let
II escape. French vivacity, tempered by
| German placidity.
| ''kardOp Mad. ica1
| Lucie Hagerland would pose. All, yes, she
| would be delighted if it would not interfere
with her ressmaking, and so she was in
| troduced at the studios, and so the dress
making went by default for Lucie became
| the rage.
! 1t was the day of her introduction to life
| In the Latin Quarter that Lucie met Mile.
/ Juidicelli. The women met in the studio of
| the French artist who had discovered"
| Mile. Juidicelli little passe. To Lucie She
| was a rare trOpic blossom, dark, velvety,
xoluptuous,, exhibiting a perfume richer
| than any that had greeted Lucies untu-
tored senses. The girl from Alsace blushed
| with pride when the Neapolitan woman
kissed her. She heard the story that upon
! Juidicelli's dark head had been placed the
| crown of poor, dethroned Sarah Brown, the
| queen of the Paris models, and was flat
her They were neighbors for year. They
| dropped into each others apartments for
| constituted the models breakfast.
One night they We're at a cafe chantalte-
| Lucie, with her new lover, whom Rosa lad
| known a long time; Rosa and one of her
| ing airs from I'll Trovatore." The Italian
woman grew restless. Her eyes were fright
| then humid. The melody, which told of
| poignant, hopeless grief stirred her to des-
| peration. She seized a carafe.
Who will l,.,po pay for it? Who?" she de-
| pany of artist admirers.
II feel as though / were going mad; who
will pay for the carafe if 1 break it?'
- said Olaf Bernsen, the fair-haired
Norwegian artist. IT, said Daudet, the
threadbare relation of the great Daudet.
Il. /, l." ohorused the rest.
| Mile. Juidicelli raised the carafe high
above her head with both hands and hurled
hundred crystal bits. She looked at them
| moment, then her head dropped upon her
hands. ar she wept wildly, angrily. as only
woman of the far, passionate southland
cam
Lucie Hagerland stole to her friends side.
Mile. Juidicelli flung her from her. Out of
my sight, you white-faced thing, she
screamed. II hate you. would like to
bury my stiletto in your heart"
Lucie wept. Her lover an English artist
led her home, after an admonishing word
to the Italian woman.
Jealous" said the artiNs in undertone.
She hid it long and well. 1t was the wine
that loosened her tongue. 1t is hard to lose
both popularity and lover to one girl. Lucie
Hagerland needs to have a care"
The Englishman whom both women loved
was the envy of the artists colony, not
alone because of Lucie Hagerland's favor,
but by reason of little patrimony that
enabled him to paint when he wished. not
the Rue Dragon that the Englishman was
having Lucie educated; that he intended
taking her to London with him; that SO
complete was his infatuation that he even
said, when he was in wine, that he intended
to marry her.
And 50 the days went on in the mad,
merry fashion of the Latin quarter. Mile.
Juidicelli was openly alluded to by an
American. who had no reverence for beau
ty, in the abstract, as a has BEEN He
Sfpd Mile Ia I'm the breath
as the queen of Paris. Mile. Juidicelli
heard of it next day. She paled little,
but smiled. 1t was two days after the rash
toast made by the American. Lucie Hager
land was returning from the studio of one
of the most eminent French artists. She
had posed for him in modern conception
of Aphrodte rising from the sea. AS she
turned the corner her innocent vanity was
reflected in her face tall woman. whose
her pallor--the pallor of dissipation-was
waiting for her at the corner. The dark
gers. She had a hesitant air. She had not
yet formed her resolve The passing look
of the complacence and vanity on Lucie
Hagerlands face angered her. 1t steeled
her arm and steadied her absinthe-weak-
ened nerves. All Rosa Juidiceli's pent-up
hatred rushed to the surface. There was a
low cry like that of an animal goaded by
pain. The Italian dashed the glass at the
lovely smiling face. scream rang down
the street and startled the b0urgeOSie at
their midday meals
Lucie Hagerland had fallen upon the
pavement her race bore the D1anu or a
fierce destroying agent. She put her hands
over her eyes and snatched them away in
agony at the touch of the fiery liquid. ''It
was Rosa" she gaspeu, and the plying
bystanders saw a tall woman In black es-
Gaping in the crowd. The vitriol mad done
its work well. The physicians at the hospi-
tai say that not only Is the girls beauty
gone beyond recall, but she is blind, hope
lessly so.
The Juidcelli is in Jail. She is very calm
hut there is a triumphant look III Ter eyes
She only smiles suleny when she is cues
saws she talks m her sleep. and thai one
night she laughed in a way IN chilled
her fellow-prisoner' blood Tn, phvsiCians
despair of Lucie Hdgerand's lse The
prison authorities point TO Rosa Juidcelli
as an insane woman. The English artist
has returned o London and his iiance.