1 ,
1
lin!o
T ()WANDA:
SaturbaD illorninv October 14, 1854.
_ _
Stittitb Vottrt
THE BRIDAL AND THE BURIAL.
TIT JAMES NONTOONEAT
Blessed is the bride whom the sun shines on;
Blessed is the corpse which the rain rains on.
I saw thee young and beautiful.
I saw thee rich and gay ;
In the first blush of womanhood,
Upon thy wedding day ;
The church-bells rang.
And the little children sang—
" Flowers, flowers, kiss her feet;
Sweet to the sweet!
The winter is past, the rain is gone.
Blesssed is bride whom the sun shines on."
saw thee poor and desolate.
I saw the fade array,
In broken-hearten widowhkod,
. Before thy locks wee gray ;
The death-bell rang.
And the little children sang—
Lilly's dress her winding sheet ;
Sweets to the sweet!
The summer's past, the sunshine's gone;
Blessed is the corpse which the rain rains on."
.Stitttt
VIE 111014HCAs. .
T:liz of 7tenzi?
I=
It wos in the month ol July, in the year 1:93,
when a crowd of fugitives passed by the Loire to-
wards Nantes. Lame botlida at troops had been
Ft!rri to that place in cvlisequelice of the rising in
La Vendee, which, although notentirely, surpress
cd, were then kept within narrower bounds. The
good natured inhabitants, hilt of compassion for the
Venderms, did all in their poWer a-scage the FM • i
r 1% • . of Lite uofur tatiate refugees. For ibis eompas
towards the peasettned—a sin in the eyes of
those in•irudiority—ihe inhabitants of :limited were
n tw , "compelled to suffer. Itobespiervet, gree in
power, seal thither a man every way adapted for
the execiPtern of the m'Ost cruel and infamous awes
sur-es Thik man was Carrier, who pot , sessedeer-
Initily a talent for clime, and a truly diabolicallgai
of invention for new tortures.'
his a singular fact, that all the men of blood of
•cliatiunhappy era were-distinguished by something
4410',.,i15e cm' d 1414-11;4 , 11 e4:l in their appearaneee.....
and , abliough the tiger Marin deserved the prece
dence, in being the " ugliest of the ugly," Carrier
ctilits.tuare nest. fit person lie was short
flira4re, 91 a iyellowish brown romplesion ; his titre
heed low ; hot eyes were blood-shot arid squinting
—his hair fell in stapes down his sunken cheeks,
u hale his nose curved ;Joke tisebeak of a bird of
prey . , and nearly met his projecting chin ; his voice
harsh arid screeching Wlieu in anger, at other tiniea
11.1 t and niuntatiovA. soon as tins Monster ar
rived at Nant ea, lieformed a band, it IA said of
hundred assassins, and spread them over the city
and the surrounding country, Elting the' prisons,
- but soon again errip•ying them .>y eneane tit hie
wholesale system of paying his issisianta
libera4 for their services. Ilia nisi victimit were
tire fugitives from La Vendee, and then the inhab
itants of Nantee. lie who merely spoke tea royal
ist was suspected-Lite•who showed pity at an exe
calio,l was the same; uonil at Lam every rich man,
every virtuous man, rvetf one who was conscien •
tious or moderate in his opintonsi, was suspected
and to be suspected ( was to be on die straight road
to death. even Laymen and children were led be
fore the reiodotionary tobtmal of this tyrint, and
then sacrificed.. _
At the commencement, thesinhappy people were
eciilotiucd .; but thissoorle of destroying Itfe seem•
ed too slew for Carrier ; he 'therefore had whole
masses shot at once. He also ordered boats to be
built, with trap-doors ripening by means of ropes its
their bottoms ; and, as soon as it else dark, ppis
oners, in gangs in from one to two hundred in num
ber, were distriliuted in these boats, and sowed
away to the venire of the river, °limo sutler the im
pression that they-were to receive their liberty. dud•
denly the falling planks revealed to them the/ear
ful truth, as with a shriek of agony they. aank' be
- neath the waves.
This the wroth -mockingly called the barisan od
'the republic. But - many were cast info the river
" - without any such preparation as this, and the Loire
in the vicinity of Nantes was soon tilled with corps.
es. Thus, it often happened, that when boats wish
ed-to cast anchor, they struck against the dead
Everywhere birds of prey flocked to a disgusting
meal, while the fishes were scipolluted by such
food, that even the poorest persons could NM longer
partake of them: It seemed as if the angel of death
had spread his dark win i r over the oity r as.if it
were little else than one dark. and fearful grave..
The committee of public lately, (as the then au
thorittes called themselves,) however re-called
Carrier from Nantes, where he was perPetrating
his atrocities, and demanded his presence al rails;
they became afraid, lest his cruelty, carried to such
lengths, might ultimately prove datigerobs.
1 e , ids the end oldie Reign of Terror,
Carrier Maisel as brought before the National
Convention, ma nom Nantes bore such fearful
- testimony to his 'blood-thirstiness`, that even the
julges, hard as were their hem's, shuddereii With
horror. His own a,ssertions of having acted iustly,
• and having been indrelillbe_aVeliger offrtfure4l in
nocence, did not save him. He was sentenced to
death, declaring habit last his belief in his Firm
innocence. Indeed', his assertions bordered on in
tanity, and a reception into a mad-house would
have been more fitting hir such a man than death.
I y he guillotibe. •
It was at this period that an aged priest,' who had
f..:.n TO..ifi ; was bfOLG:II :o Nacres, fad lacar-
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cereted in a prison len feel below the ground, which
bad no o:her opening than a narrow stair, and a
mere hole ityhe wall.
In this gloomy place he bad dwelt fourteen days
Without hearing a voice or seeing the face of a hu
man be;ng, except that 011ie keeper,. who brought
him each morping a jug of water, and a piece of
black bread. Not a word, however, was epriken,
nor a look of compassion given to the captive, by
his jailer, whose occupation had probably harden
ed• his nature f and as scion as his daily duty was
fulfilled, he retired as gldomily as he came.
Nothing could the old priest see as he looked
around, but the thick, dark walls of his dungeon,
a little straw in s corner for a bed, and rings and
chains scattered about. The only sounds were
drops of water falling from the damp roof, as they
fell with a monotonous and dismal drip, distantly
heard in, the stillness. Sometimes he fancied he
heard the, low sigh or moan of some other prisoner,
or it might be the wind striking against the corner
of his dungeon wall.
The almost darkness or the twilight that gleam
ed in through the narrow 'aperture;' , the cold, the
smell of mould, all gave the place the semblance
of the grave; he saw, felt, and smelt -the grave,
but hi• spirit did not rest in it It wandered far
away to brighter regions, and in the consolation .of
religion the old priest was happy and resigned. Ile
could sleep and often pleasant dreams cheered him.
One morning, vs usual, the door of the dungeon
opened, and the jailer appeared, but not alone; be
hind him came a young man,:whe in one hand car
ried a key, and in the other bread,
Listen," said the jailer, in a hoarse voice, ad
dresiiing his companion, " until I tell you what are
your duties. 4‘ Vou must bring daily to this prisoner
hie allowance, and you must examine minutely his
chains, and see that they are all right. But no
speaking, recollect, no unnecessary looks. Re.
member the pledge I :tare you for tidelity, and
your head assuredly will not be safe'it you disobey
my orders."
• 4 Be satisfied," replied the yonth " I know as
well about-this business as it I had followed it (torn
spy childhood. You-will never have any cause to
regret taking me into your service."
Ac the youth spoke, the priest we , ' seized with
the greatest amazement. "It is her voice," he
fdl4l to Itirrp‘elf. The young man appro.:clic:l him,
as if to begin the wnik that had been tram-bored to
him, by tiling np the chains, and holding them be.
fore his eyes While doing so the pti,‘ener leli
a warm teal drop on his levered hand{. " All
tight," said the youth," we may now leave."
They both left.
"It i., it is Veronica," murmured the priest:
while hope .and fear, aniimy and astonishment
al/aimed him 1 4 turns. -The night which followed
seemed miasma/ 1 y long. Sleep did from: his eyes,
and he still felt the warm tear that had bedewed
ht ands, and will heard the s•oice that lad so cur
priseri and'toocherf him. The worming came at
last.' The door opened, and the youth oh the day
, before threw himself at the feet of the prieet, ea•
ter could only reply, " My beloved daughter I"
It was indeed Veronica, his adorned child.-
1 rambling, she raised the chains by which the
' pliezt was bound, and said, weeping, " Alt , •e•
iierable lather, why Jul find you in so fearful a
place h•'
1 - " Sly daughter,' answered the priest, " I eon
! aidesed it a duty to we myself from death, by
; taking refuge among strangers; but God has con
,' anted me to this dungeon. Thus, you see, there
I*e tusthing once,ar in my being here. the how
league you here, V4renioa, and in that dress f"
" 414 fuster.mnther," replied the girl," was tak
!en to prioon, and, alter much guttering, died. The
picture of the misery %tier you—my only bene
lactor—night be enduring, filled me with grief,
1 and ;are me no resit / roust go to him, and try
to aaann him, I said tea my-elf. The feeling of
i gratitUda made me forget the dangers and difficul
ties ofrny undertaking, and I resolved to search for
1111 you everywhere."
I'-' 11w how came you to Nantes?" inquired the
1 aged /rascal.
PUBLISIIO EVERY SATURDAY AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, 'PA., BY E. O'MEARA GOODRICH.
' Itiy dear benelecior !' utile ilia lat.
elaiminv.,
" 1 knew," said Veronica, " that, in - order to
reach the sea, you must pass through Nantes; so I
packed up a few things, and with the little money
I had, began my journey. I had been many days
412 die road, for, through fear of falling into evil
hands, I took ways not much frequented. When
eight hours distant from this city ; I was seized, in
consequere of my warn of a passport, and threat
ened to be seat to prison. I implored the soldiers'
to set me free, and, as they were not destitute of '
pity, alter a short consultation with eat:bother, they
told me 'I might go where I fp:eased. Much agi•
titled, I reached a hat, where the woman who liv
ed, in it showed me great kindness,and kept me all
night. " Unhappy days !'' she said, looking at me
'full of pity, " Every one is troubled, terror is over
all, whether child or gray haired man, girl or wo
man—none can sleep soundly." She related to
me how she lately sheltered an old man for a night
beneath her roof. From' her description I conjec
tured it was my. father, and the neat day I came to
Nantes. I was told of the imprisonment of many
ptieste,-and I feared you might be among them
It suililenly occurred to me to g 0 the keeper of the
dungeons- - I did so, asked alms, but, was thrust
bask. The keeper just at that moment came to
the gate, heard my voice, and said, throwing on
i
me a surly glance, " At your age, prong man, we
-ought not 4o•beg-onr bread, •bot work tor it?' R I
wish to doso,"_was my &newer, " but I cannot find
employment:" ." When we seek in reality, we
are sure to find it," he' answered; " but roast
pigeons do qel frylitto our mouths." I took coot
age.aird replied, "-Perhaps you could employ me;
for syiih moreprisoners you Will require more help."
He looked et Me iilh'FOntempt, as I asked the
~question- - tt " Laeerl," lie said, " people of a very
Idiffarent sort from•you. Do yon know, young man,
that I make work , for the executions, ? 1 A thrill
01 honor went threagh me, but .I recovered mate:`
‘f REGARDLESS Or DENUNCIATION rams
~,,,,Nir-qunnTER.".
again, -and, boldly raising my bead, said, "No
matter ; take me into your son ioe, and you shall
see that everything you charge me to do shall be
done lover satisfaction," He seemed to reflect,
and - looked at me as jibe would pierce me through
and through. At length ,he said, "if you will
do what I require of you—it I tun no risk of find,
-tog you a traitor, or that it were possible the aristo
crat walked beneath a mask, You tremble,
friend," " With anger," I answered, suppressing
my agitation. " I will," he continued, t' take you ,
into my seriice. What do you ask ?'' "Only food
and . shelter," I replied; " for anything more I trust
to your kindness." .51y answer seemed to please
him. " Young man," Ike said in a softer tone,
e‘ you will have no cause to regret your determina
tion. The times are favorable for jailers and their
servaets." Next day 1 accompanied him on his
rounds, and the fir - st place we came to was your
dungeon. It required. great mastery over myself
not to betray my emotion, but the darkness of this
cell favored me; and now, worthy lather, that I
have found you, I feel a joy which makes me for
get all my misery and danger."
Veronica was silent. The priest, affected by
gratitude and nobleness of heart, was much touch
ed by the simple recital, Ile took her hand, and
said, " Your presence, my child, certainly glad
dens me, but here you must not, cannot stay ; you
must leave me, Veronioa."
"Leave you," replied the girl, with an expres
sion of deep grief;" and again trice dangers from
which I have eseapkl as if by a miracle r ,
" Patience, myi child, 1 trust Cod will soon grant
you a better- means of living. You a ould help me
to carry my clove ? but I must not base the sorrow
of seeing you perish at my side." • „
"II you must' die, Reverend father, under the
hand of the executioner, it will be a consolation for
me to share your fate; but I have no such dread•
tut thoughts. I will save you, dear fattier; at least
I will make the attempt. I have a tile to break your
chains, and, it all goes well, you must escape in
my city-hes, during the, night, while I take your
place." As the young girl spoke, her eyes shone
and her cheeks glowed, as if at that moment were
united in her the courage of a man with the sacri
ficing faith and constancy of a noble maiden. The
priest smiled with a sail expression, he said—
" In that case, Veronica, you would be obliged
to exliar.ge my place in this dungeon for the scat
would be pardoned on account of my youth,'
ied the •
Do not hope so," is/4:i the Priem.
El
Ji No matter then," continued the heroic girl
" To you I owd my preservation ; ill give you back
my life, I only repay a debt."
" What !" exclaimed are venerable priest, al.
famed by the expression of suds elevated aenti•
merits. " You have scarcely eiitere.l upon life, and
already you wouhl sacrifice yourself for me, wbosu
last hour cannot in any case be lar di-taw. Look
at my leeble 3 body, already sinking; look al my
thin, trembling bands, my sunken checks! No,
Veronica, your resolution I cannot call a right
EMS
" But your soul if strong," answered the intrepid
" and you
,may yet do much service in the
world. You may console ihe dying, arid succor
the miserable."
" Yes, thee soul does the good my child ; but not
without the aid of tkis 684, and minejs weighed
down by years. I can uo longer be what I was in
my youth. 1 long for another life, while you may
be useful on earth, fur you have a C 011143111 and
strong will ; therefore do not desire my life pro
longed." Veronica wept.
"Al leas;" she said, after a pause' sutler me
remain here, to be near you, that I may help
you to such to such things as your bodily wants
require."
" Be it to," answered the ariest ; " but go now,
lest your absence be suspected."
4111 Aft U
4n order to afford the reader an Insight into dui
relation of Veronica with he; benefactor, we must
glance at an event which took .place at an -earlier
period of our story. It was on te evening of the
sixth ofpctober, 1777, when in the Rue Baroche,
at Tours, a voung and handsome maxi stood at the
door of one of the best houses in the town. , His
countenance was melancholy, awl wore the traces
O vrornout expectation. Hastily he wiped the pers
piration /row his forehead, bent his ear to the door
as it-to listen, then as hastily resumed his ni right
position, and par - ed backwards and torwards, ap
parently in great anxiety - .11 mind. Alter the lapse
of half an boor, a yoUng woman came out, and
hastily closed the 000 f after her. She looked very
pale. • The man glanced at her anxiously, but dike
not venture to speak, until they were both 'some
distaise troth the house. 0, I see very ,lie
then said, " that she refuses to Mee" " again , "
" Alas, yes was the sad answer.
rt The erne! one !" meDered the man, " Did you
not tell her that we woatfl not have remained lung
with her?"
told everything;" rlPlied the women, with a
sigh. "She said we might do as we liked, just as
we had done berme, that is, marrying withouti?er
cpuseat."
" Did you not speak of our child 3" asked the
man with inereaßed agitation.
" Certainty," answered the youug wife ; " but
my apot said elle pared nothing abut
Yesothe -hse a haul heart," exclaimed the
man, in the greatest indignation. " She shall re
pent. She
" Stop, Juliet'," said his wile, interrupting him,
as het tears tell fist. "itis a sin to wish 0.11. Mit
us beg----"
" peg!" repeated the unhappy ' young man,
o randing 6611, and gq.ing on the face of hie wife in
profound sotrow. Dtr g, Laura! Yen, we must
beg. But how are we to begin ; We must, in the
frig place, leave Toure;" he continue! " I have
iciencis 1.1 Pa.'. , as meet go mere "4,
MIS
" And our ehii'd V said ta'ura, loo . iiing" at Iter
infant, which she, hefd beneath her mantle, and
Cheri at her husband, with abash . terrified expression
of countenance.
It We must leave it hem," answered the yonng
men, speaking with an effort.
" Leave my child!" impetuously exclaimed the
unhappy mother, becoming pale and red by turns.
"Dostuispellkatelliodulipspt- what is mrpoest-
We," and poor Laura burst into an agony ot weep.
ing.
" Laura," said kr compahion, ins voice brolcen
and agitated, " do you think that I suffer tress than
you in proposing such a slept Were it not an im
perative necessity, could I, think you„coiatemplate
such a prceedinl? But it must be.- We cannot
take our poor little daughter wish
- us to Paris, when
we may be obliged to perform the journey on foot.
Besides, dear Laura, we shall leave it only for a
short ; we shall return and claim it,"
Laura looked up, and asked what he meant se
riously to Jo with the child.
"That wh . ch other unfortunate ones often do,
place it in the Fountilint hospital."
These words were uttered as-if wrung from the
heart of the unhappy young father.
" No, Julius," cried his wife, with yet treater
vehemence; " rather than consent to this, I would
see my child perish in my arms. ,I'hatl see our
daughter in the midst of crime arid shame! You
know that the children are often given over to this
one or that ope, lrequently to needy women as
daily beggars. What kindness could be expected
from such womenl"
" Your own aunt showed no greater kindness,"
replied Juhus, with biomes, ".than any 01 those
women may be expected to show to a child. Per
haps you had better retrace your steps, and ask her
aid once more."
4 ' Do riot be unjust, Sullea, My aunt was kind
to me, and cared for me as any mother would have
dune; for my education, for all 1 ever received I
have to thank tier. And she was kind to you, too,
Julius, until—." She stopped, afraid of hurting
her husband's feelings, by alluding to their mar
riage.
"Go on," observed the latter, with impatience
:. Nluch depends on her appearing to me in a more
favorable light.''
" Had you been in her place," whispered Laura,
taking the ha rid of her husband, l• perhaps you
would have acted as she has done. llere is a
cburch," she continued, in a low voice, sad, " let
us go in and pray that Gitril may direct our steps ;"
and she drew her husband with her into the cads
drat of the town to which they. were elose.
" A thought occurs to me," said her husband, as
they entered. "Let us lay down our child before
the,alrar, and among the pious who come to evert
ing prayers, some erre may take pity or the infant."
The thought seemed tO please the unhappy moth•
er, as she pressed the child tenderly to her heart.
Yet she felt uncertain. The separation was sor
' rowful It was so hard for a mother to part with
' her infant Observing, tier hesitation, Julius said,
" You 17111 M take our daughter youself, dear Laura,
the altar, lay her down, and M arch at a lade dor
' tanoe who approaches. I will remain near the
'l,l'oor, and observe who goes in or comes out. Ir is
•
so dark, 1 shall not be perceived. Tie this small
medal round her neck," pointing to one Laura al.
ways wore, and by this token we shall again find
our child."
Poor Laura prepared to follow the advice of lie:
husband, and slowly appt oaehed the altar with he
uneonscious child—tmeonseious alike of iss, moth
er's tears or its lather's wretchedness.
Laura steps softly, leatful ol drawing observation
on herself by any of those who were kneeling near/
her. The chinch was dimly lighted—only the
lamps in the choir were binning, and a few others
at one Or more ol the side chapels. :The reached
one of the latter, where she had been accustomed
to pray in ! t ier girlhood. With a throbbing heart
and a heavy Filth, she gently laid down her lints
daegliter before the altar of the Blessed
commending her to the ruewy of God. •She then
arose, and Went a Orton distance, in artier to ob•
serve it any one took up the child. 'By degrees
thee-111mila) became? Minot empty; the atcuship
pars, one by one, had - disappered, until there only
remained that oilieialing priest. The priest was
our friend of Tours, who years after was imprison
ed, as we narrated, in the dungeon of :Names.—
When lie saw that there remained no one, as he
thought in the elturch,he prepared also to depart ;
Ibut •fore leavittg, he approached the sidechapel,
where lay the infant pl Laura. He knelt down for
a few moments, lie Wahl a tow moan, lip listen
ed, and heard another; and then to his astonish
ment, perceived a child at the loot ol the altar.
The then helpless infant became the Veronica
who wished to give her file for that of the good
priest, who had, at thatcritical perksl of her des
tiny, taken compassion an' hit. He lifted up the
child, resolved to take charge of it ; the mote es.
pecially, as he by the medal suspended
mend its neck, that its mother'muat have been an
unfortunate Chlistiart parent, who was desitous that
.t her child should be rehigion'.ly educated.
lii going away, he almost touched Laura, who
was anxiously watching his movements. lieu joy
was so Veal when she saw the vilest take up her
child, that she was on the point of speaking to him,
but shame and tear kept her silent. " Heaven be
praised !" murmured the father, as he saw , the
priest rasa out,,and knew tie had his child. Teals
ofeuiption slood s sohis eyes, as he and Lama Went
on their sorrowful journey.
priest gave the child the name of Veronica,
and sent it to be taken care of by a respectable
widow, whe lived action way . trona Tours. When
I ten year. of age , the your • g i rt came daily to her
~
benefactor to receive instruction, and the worthy
priest became much attached to the little fendling,
who eirty gave proofs of no ordinary intelligence.
The Revolution broke WI The aged' ei4tere of
the prfeet, who had liietl, e'.th Lim, died, said he
went to ter:de WitA s l`teeraea. 414 toe w.ido
!SEE
WM
Search had often been made for him, as he rotes.
eJ to take the civil oath; but Veronica cnnttrved ,
conceal him so well, that - at length the scan
seemed to be abandoned. However, he ag,aJ
drew observation upon himself, by persisting
dispensing the sacraments f and he assuredly MI
have been taken before the fearful tribunal, lied
not withdrawn himself from Tours.
CiIANTI4II' 411
Several Jays elapsed, when, one morning Vero-
nica entered the dungeon, looking more cheerful
than usual.
" I bring you 144, my father," she said.—
"Some persons of importance have come to in•
spew the prisoners. I accompanied them toddler
ant dungeons, and I observed One of the oMelals
showed pity and compassion, 'end I feel certain
that he will exert himself to alleviate the suffer
ings he witnessed, arid perhaps release many of
the unhappy prisoners. Ah," continned the young
girl, " what sad sights I have seen! First, we visit
ed a poor widow, whose husband and son had
been guillotined; then we came to the cell of a
young orphan girl, whose helpless slate and mel•
ancholy tale would have,made The heart tender.—
But ono man in partiouliir I must mention, who or
irested the attention of the inspectors. Ah, it *as a
painful sight !"exclaimed Veronica ; " those horrid
spectacles make me shudder, The man of ; whom
I speak was about thirty years of age. Ilia gas
, lures betrayed pride, as he paced up and down his
dungeon. His countenance was inflamed and his
eyes rolled wildly lipnn his forehead he wore a
band of black silk, and round his left hand was
twisted a piece of , linen °loth. He was dressed in
uniform. In his right hand he held a paper, where
on were written some lines in a ied color of
As we approached hecast on us a look of fury,
`and, drawing hirobelf proudly up, he began to sing,
in a loud voice,
" A lions enfants dr Is pair's
Le Jour .ho trbOrle.l ern
1....4111ru opus ,1.3 Is I) railwa
Le c4.4.lcds s.thglunt ., Fat Llcrc -
a parody of the " Marseioiie."
" Who ;re yoe,"demarklled the inspector, " who
dare to profane our glorio - W4 hymn
r• A. republican," ruled the prisoner, in a
ty tone.
Theo, why are you water arrest!"
L , Why ! liceau.e we are under the yoke ol the,
most cruel tyrant."
" When did your auest take (lace r• again ask•
ed the inspector.
" That will be . heard ni yet," exclaimed the man
-furiousiy. "1 will communicate it to the whole
world. You would prevent me making ] your evil
deeds known, but ;bat you will not be able Co do
You refuse me ink; I have found it iu my veins.—
It is my blood with which t have written this b,iok.
Look !" he wittily rued, bolding up to on the bit of
paßer, and then burst out into a fearful laugh,—
"neat! ! read !" he continued, and his countenan- I
ce assumed a gloomy asiwzi. " But perhaps you I
eannot discover much from this; so 'listen, gentle- i
men, listen:—lt was shortly rit.er my marriage'
with a lair arid virtuous woman that the 'war broke
nu. inspired by love fur my country, and obedi
ent to its taws, I became a soldier, tors myself
from the arm of my young wite. neglected the en
treaties of my mother, :Hid weal a;ainst tile ene
my. For twenty days I endured many privations,
faced many clangers. On the I.4st there was a bat
tle. But what a bailie+. Vreortimen Iwiv2ht a.,4aiost
I:rem:thine& Nile. - a tearful shedding of bond we
conquered. I hid sit wound.: ( was sent home,
but the moment increased my torture My whole
body was indeed, like one iinge wound. Now,
r
)entlemen, comes the horror. I entered my dwell
was empty ; no one there except an aged
beggar My mother had been guillotined on the
same day I had shed my blood in battle. nay .wife
was drowned it. the seine. Men, greedy and cruel
as tiger., had seized on my property. The sight
inflamed me, and gave me back my strength—the
strength of despair. I - tau to the executioners I
screamed in their ears that. during the spice of
fontiegn'tlays, they had comtnitted more shameful
deeds thaw all the tyrants Of fourteen Centuries pot
together. INJorderera I called theta, 30,1 therefore,
gentleman I am in this dungeon. They robbed
me of my means, thereforedit iv tight they should
lodge and feed me; and why the knife of the giiil
brute has not yet severed my head from my Way,
I understand not, seeing I have given no cause for
delay." fie again drew housed( np proudly, and,
in a Touter voice t h an bytoie, recommenced his
6011:.• Pool man '....it wa4 a sad ss,z,h!, mdeled, to
behold " .1
Mrstorianu has derived hum at his aen‘es,'•
slid ohs of the attendan la. • Ile 14 not always in
this wild mood. Sometica ho a errs like a child,-
and prays and and sings In a gentle vuice. We
cannot help playing him " t
" We left him nn.i 1 nreihi:4lll the y.mr,ger 3:1.1
~ more compassionate looking ut the gettileniuti r ay,
" It is. Ingb - mno.that such tyranny were ended—a
tyranny destroying bath torn) and body " t litu at
tvii wards took me aside and said, " Vfninr.. man, 1
I barn ohsei wed yibys eandus:l. Buret, I give yon
tins money, (placing a roll 01 silver in my hands )
use it for the bt..netit of the prironeus." He then
said, you resemble ono who was very dear to me.
May Too petontas the same virtue.. Ate you par•
eats alive ?" he asked ale aptly .
" I have never known them," I answered.
Ile became deadly (bale. After a pan-e, he said,
rt If you were not a young man; I would lineation
you further. kmboldened by li,iulangitage, I spoke
ofyou, reverend !whet.
" A priest !" he exclaimed, thricging hp stool
dere, as if indicative 4f the dilli:ully cf saviog anti.
"A priest," he again said, " this is not a 14voratale
time for them, perhaps it may be, Inter. Mean
while, however, be will - probably be Pale. He
may be,forgorten-11 will consider of it."
" No*, dear tether, Mis Ia my good news."—
And, saying so, the young girl loft the dungeon.
A considerable time elapsed, and will there came
na liberation for the pristaers. Arres:e were few
er. and so were execalions. Stria the prezious
falai freedom was very rarely beard , hr , any of
risone; few, indeed, received as yeti - their - lib-
One. day Venetia tolt s ljhemieitt lbatisledy
Tours had just. been datinisoned, vvho.-knew '
by name, althnngh she had not been person
acquaiod with, - him. " 4 Sher 'w ishes are to
lettiejrnm her to you; bnt,in these 644 it
dangerous to perform even Iles slightest amid'
indnessohat I would not promise quill Iliad fret
• •
consulted with you."
'eon do ri lit to be prudent, ny daughter, ans
wered the priest, ' yet I cannot lee any berm
could come from bringing me the letter. -eethaps ,
the lady may have something of consequence to
reveal to me. She may wish religious consolation.
I think you may venture to oblige her indhis ; only
impress tipmt her, that, lest the .ceMmunicetion
might prove injuriou* to her were P. tithed, she
must he careful how she .
Two days after, Veronica handed aletter to the
priest, part of the cnntents of whielt seemed deep
ly to-interest him. The brief statement ran as lof
lowsl—l become a Widow in early lila. Rich, and
without chiliren, I had many oflers . for my band,
but I refused them all. buy affection was centred
in a youthful relative—an orphan, who lived with
me, and was as my daughter_ At the age of eight
eau, she was one ot-the most accomplished girls in
Tours; rich in knowledge, and will richer in the
qualities of her heart. Two years alter, a propoial
of marriage was made to her, every way advants•
genus, but she declined it, saying she would never
many, rather than take one she did uol love. at.
terwards found out that the refusal was in cause
; rpience of her loving some one else.. This other
proved to be a youth of great talent, in whom I lead
taken much interest, and aided in the pursuit oflart,
in which he was devoted. I wished him tq'in-
I strict my adopted daughter in drawing. He caine,
and the end was, that he gained her afledtioes,
while f thought they were entirely occupied with
their studies. I forbade him the house, and strlct
ly watched the actions of Laura. I was deceited
after all. One day they both entered my tenting
room ; I would have retired,but they withheld me,
threw themselves at 'my feet, ar& - farttestly entreat
ed my consent to their union. They promised to
do everything possible to.mate me happy, ulster
to leave me. and to follow my will iu every res
pect. " Well," said Ito them ; " begin now, for
my will is, that you never more show yourselves
here." They married: the young man occupied
himself unceasingly in order to try and maintain
hisAvile ; but, in spite of every effort, heenald not
earn sufficient for their support. Many times they
sought interviews with me, bet vainly, for my ha
tred had ratherincreased than diminished, and I
desired to hear nothing of them. One eveningll
shall never forget it) Laura suddenly rushed into
my presence. She was pale, wasted, - and,
fragile, as a withering flower. lo her arms she
carried her infant. She wept, and, in a voice al
most choked with sobs exclaimed, "Oh, dearest
aunt, have you no pity for ine 1" and she nook hold
of my dress. I tried to poll , it from her grasp, bet
she held, it fast, and raising' her child to me, be-
sought me" to have pity for it, if my heart were
steeled against heself." I remained inekorebki
and she left me in a mate bordering on despaii.
I aferusarils made inquiries privately for them, but
never could, discover in what direction my unfor
tunate r.iece and her husband had gone. 1 tiPFaum
afflicted with profound melancholy, in consequen
ce ol my harshness ta my poor Lanra. Some
years after ; loriely and sad, I did not refuse to form
en alliance with an old and Lanorablecificer in the
army. The Revolution, with its torrent al misery,
soon broke up our quiet. The Vendeans rose in
in arms. My husband lowed the adherents of . thei
K mg, and I accompanied him to La Vendee, to
share his dangers. He fought with bravery, and
fell. I now well know, was arrested, and incarce
rated in this dungeon."
i__ -i
This was the coMmanicalien which r o u sed the
interest ol the priest, and he speedily sent raj au.
1 ewer, to inquire likewise More paniculaily about
I dates, whether her niece wore a medal, and.' what
was its ini , cription. "Recall all this to your me
mory," wrote the priest, " aid ansr er me quizkly,
i for, should your reply be such as [anticipate; l am
1 in a position to impart a fact of importance to you."
Doubtless, thought the priest, her niece mast hays
been the person who laid my yen:mica at the foot
of the altar. Unhappy, yet punts mother Ol'op
iterfel indeed are the ways of God, who oat: et
seeming evil britigeth good Me said nothing., how
ever, of hiS suspicions to Veronica ; until lib ,Le
-1 eived au 411e11or, he lesoived to be ..ileitt.
On the following Jay, when as usual, Veronica
! entered the :linigeon, her countenance *ore a Je
1 i..c:ea and euletuit expressian, and tears Were in
her e$ es.
" b!la eai.J, "your uotreApendenca woh
the otio•ei's wd,low ts at au enti; death -har Inter.
tripled •
What!" esclaimed she priest, in amaremee!
-" 14 the laity. dead 1 '
•' You shall hear the sail tale, for I was present,"
replied the young gill. '• Yesterday, she was led
belive the tribunal, accompanied blEiftvettil ethers,
and l'Ava4 among the number of keepers. In dip
President I recognised again the official, who, of
all the inspectors who had visored the prison. .was
Cie w 0.4 cruel and severe. The insitini I saw him
1 had small hope for the prisoner, and 114 p. issue
justified my fears. After going through the,mock
ry of a trial, the indoitimate lady was sentenced
o death, has mg replied to the interrogatories oi the
ferocious judge laavely. '• The wile of a French
Soldier knows how to die," she said, when she
heard her sentence pronounced, " 601 I einicat a
e hurt respite, not for my own sake, but for sake et
a near !Mauve whom I had lima/tented, li now
am anxious to do hot justice. I expeci to hear of
her shortly, and Inr 'llia purpose, i Presidencten•
treat delay." " Justice in inexorable and ipttecly;'
answered the cruel President, " andvan Weak no
delay." A few hours afterwards, thetangeon was
exchanged for the scafiola."
'• I re,f,rec mtico," said the ptiest A "that le;
19
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