The mountain sentinel. (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1844-1853, June 28, 1849, Image 1
8 rv ft f "i Mm J 1 11 WE GO WHERE DEMOCRATIC PRINCIPLES POINT THE WAY; WHEN THEY CEASE TO LEAD, WE CEASE TO FOLLOW." BY JOHN G. GIVEN. EL5ENS13UUG, THURSDAY, JUNE 28, 1819. VOL. 5. NO. 38. 4 A t 1 ! :? f -1 1 1 4 a 4 ---- - - Cnkintlness. Oh! could I learn indifference v From all I heir and see, "Nor think nor care for others mora Than Ihey mar care for me! Why follow thus, with vain regret, Xo ftflrve a broken claim? If others can eo soon forget, VYhy'ahoiiId not I the same? Oh! could I learn indifferenco Fro or all I hear and see. Nor think nor care for others more - - rhaithey may care for me! There is no blight that winter throws, No frost, however stern, , Like lhat.which chill'd affection knows, Which hearts foieaken learn, What solace can the world impart, . When love's reliance ends? Oh! there's no winter for the heart Like that unkindness sends! Oh! could I learn indifieicnce From all I hear and see; Nor think nor care for others more Than they may caro for me! MISOELLANEUO S From the World as it Moves." THE SPANISH LlDY'S HAND. raOH TUB FRENCH OF HYPOLITE ETIENNEZ, BY C. A. SHERMAN, ESQ. The grandsone of Louis A Iv had just amended the throne of Spain. Amonr the young noblemen who accompanied the prince to Madrid, the Marquis de Ville blanche was distinguished in ah eminent degree by tile courtesy of his address and the elegance of his manners. Scarcely thirty years of age, a pupil in the school of intrigue, then elevated into a profession by the French noblesse, this young hoble man had not seen without renret the rru- 0 A . derv of Madame de Maintenon banish from court that gallantry which had sig " nalized the commencement of the reign of the great king. A. Under these circumstances he could not aut rejoice at an exile which brought him tin contact with the gay manners and ro iqnancc of character which fame attributed ,jo the Spanish dames. One evening, after having completed his duties near the king, and impatient to learn lioiv far one could presume upon this repu ted laxity of morals, he left the palace, ac companied by a single domestic, and be gan a ramble through the streets of Mad rid, in quest of some adventure of gallant ry. The hour was propitious; for al though night had not fully set in, its fresh ness already perceptible, was rapidly re placing the burning heat 6f the day. The windows were all opened, and every one was hastening to breathe the pure air of the Prado. The first researches however of the vounsr nobleman were fruitless. Annoyed at a result so opposed to his hopes and wishes, he was on the point of seeking, in his turn, the public promenade, and solacing himself by some vulgar in trigue, when upon entering one of the winding and deserted streets he suddenly caught a glimpse of a hand of exquisite delicacy, extended through a casement, and languidly reposing on the extreme edge of the balcony. His footsteps were instantly arrested by this sight, and his heart beat violently. Doubtless, that hand, so small and beautiful, belonged to a fe male, and the apparent lassitude of its po sition seemed to indicate that its owner was at that moment sinking under the weight of some great suffering, either physical or moral. But who was the fe male, and what unknown sorrow detained her in her dwelling at an hour when every senora was accustomed to seek the public promenade? This apparent mystery and difficulty of discovery, excited the most lively curios ity in the bosom of the young nobleman. The first impulse, indeed, of the Marquis, had been to withdraw; but the street was very narrow in this particular spot, and lie had meanwhile been fortunate enough to discover part of an arm, whicli yielded nothing in fineness or delicacy to the char ming hand. M. dc Villeblanche remained some few moments undecided; after some vain attempts to satisfy his curiosity, and seeing no probable conclusion to this in compatible conclusion to this incomplete adventure, he determined to retire, when a whimsical indca suddenly came into his mind. He instantly made a sign to his valet, who had remained at a respectful distance, and ipon his approach Raymond, said he, in a low voice, 'sec if wc are alone.' The ready valet ran to the two extremi ties of the street, and cast piercing glances - into the deepening gloom, which now be gan to envelope the city. Monsiegneur, I sec no one. It is well The young Frenchman then unclasped his word and handed it to his valet. Now,' said he, 'keep good vatch, and be on your guard.' ; Then approaching the wall -asd clinging hold of the iron bars, which aiEording to the Spanish custom guard the giound-door windows, he cautiously raisfi himself upon a level with the balcony, bid seizing the imprudent hand, hastily in printed a kiss - upon it. The hand wak quickly withdrawn, but in the movement a rinr glided into the grasp of the youn noble man, which he instantly placed uion his finger. At the same moment, theicad of ' a young female, her countenance nndered even more lovely by the palenfts and affright which agitated it, bent over the casement of the window, but almost mme diately disappeared, and the windoV its elf was suddenly closed. Tiie marquis leaped lightly upoi the ground, regained his sword, and fiedpre cipitately. covering with kisses thepre cious gage wrhich he had won in thissin gular adventure. As soon as he re-eer-ed the palace lie examined it careftly, hoping to discover the name of the beaji ful unknown, but in vain. Raymond,' said he, to his valet, to morrow, at my rising, I wish to Know ie name of this lady.' On the morrow, at his waking, the mr quis beheld Raymond standing upright .t the foot of his bed, waiting his pleasure. Well! exclaimed he,' the valet shoq his head, significant of bad news. Monseigneur,' said he, 'the street h; which we stopped last night is, la rue d la conception ' the house, at the window climbed, is the palace of the i-Cruz, and the lady, whose ot which you climbed, is the palace ol the Uunc ot ianta-Uruz, and the lady, whose hand you saluted, is his wife the Duchess this discrete avowal, and answered as pru of Santa-Cruz! But, alas! no one ever Hently, by simply niacin"-his hand upon . l i ii.i i I i . t . . enters the building, and when Madame la Duchess goes out, which she never does except to attend church, she is always ac- I companied by an old duenna, and followed I by spies, devoted to her husband.' 1 he Duke of Santa-Cruz was, in fact, a Spaniard of the old stamp, imbued with all the prejudices and suspicions common to his nation. After having discharged the highest functions of state under the reign of the house of Austria, he beheld with ex treme repugnance, the sceptre of Spain pass into the hands ot a trench Prince: he resigned all his honors and employments J ru de la Conception,' in the hope of again and buried in the depths of his palace J seng the young girl at the window. For avoided all communication with the outer j sole reason, inexplicable to him, he found world. Another motive added strength to j allthe windows of the palace closed, his resolntion of absolute retirement: not- j Edited by these obstacles, the young no withstanding his years, a short time prior blo.an determined to use the most desoer- to the accession of Philip, he had espoused a young Spanish lady, bom of one of the noblist families of Catalonia, and his jeal ousy, extreme, like that of all Castillians, had naturally increased, when the court be came peopled with strangers, whose feats of gallantry occasioned a well-founded terror among all husbands. Innumerable domestics, acting either under the influence of his salaries, or the fear of severe punish ment, kept incessant watch over Isabella, this was the name of the Duchess, and fol lowed her to church, the only place she was permitted to visit. Torn thus rudely from all the enjoyments of youth, and the pleasures, of which she had had a partial glimpse in the court of Charles II.: con fined in the flower of her age in a gloomy palace, which, despite its magnificence, inspired her with horror and disgust, Isa bella visibly pined away under the combi ned influence of languor and ennui. The evening upon which the Marquis de Ville blanche had seen her, she had come ac cording to her usual custom to inhale the freshness of the air at the window, and cast j a wishful glance through its barred case ments, upon that gay world, which had closed upon her so early. There after a sad contemplation of her fate, she had fallen into a melancholy reverie, and had thrown her beautiful hand without the balcony, as if to seize that air and liberty from which she was debarred. It was at this moment that the marquis had scaled the wall and caught her hand Thus suddenly startled from her meditation by his kiss, the young girl was seized with fright, and the sight of the young French nobleman increased her terror. But returning almost imme diately to a sense of duty, or perhaps fear ful of the danger which the rash young man encountered, who had thus dared to brave the jealousy of the duke, she instant ly closed the window and retreated to her apartment. - The disappearance of her ring increased her fears: trusting, however, that this ad venture was but the heedless exploit of a hair-brained young man, the poor girl soon gave the matter no further thought, and became more than ever-even, absorbed in her accustomed dream of sorrow. The information furnished by Raymond confirmed the marquis in his first deter mination: other details too, collected from different sources, inspires him with a bol der resolution, that of relieving the duch ess from the tyranny of her husband. A dangerous cnterprizc like this, needed the aid and Consent of Isabella for its success, and all the skill of the young nobleman was now to be exerted to obtain this. With this view, he kept almost constant watch under the windows of the palace, but they always seemed deserted. ; He then altered the direction of his movements and assiduously visited all the churches in the vicininty, at the time of the sacred offices, and finally succeeded in discover ing the duchess; but she was accompanied by her duenna, and two stout footmen placed immediately behind her, never lost sight of her for a single instant. Here therefore, apparently, no opportunity could offer of acquainting her with the lively interest with which she had inspi red him. Nevertheless the young nobleman took a position as near the duchess as possible and where he could contemplate her at his ease, he soon remarked the expression of profound melancholy and dejection on her yo athful and lovely counte nance; that of one who had lost all hope: but he was far from resigning himself to despair. The discovery only served to redouble his chivalrous impetuosity: The earnest attention of which she was the object was soon observed by the duchess: she fastened a long and inquiring look upon the young man, who seized the opportunity to exhi bit the sparkle of the ring which he wore. Isabella trembled at the sight, and cast down her eyes, and a cold sweat bathed her forehead. Raisinirher head, she rrlan- ced coutiously at her guards, and meeting their gaze, ventured upon no further inti mation to the marquis, than merely fixin an expressive smile on the hand whic had received the kiss. He understooi an expressive smile on the hand which Jiad received the kiss. He understood ns heart. In a few moments the duchess pse and departed; the young nobleman ollowed her along time with his eyes un 1 finally, Isabella, profiting skilfully by a momentary inattention of her servants, kot a parting glance by way of adieu, i The marques, more than ever eaptiva tl by the lovely duchess, and convinced othe impossibility of an interview with ly even for an instant unguarded, resolr vJ immediately upon the execution of his piject, iie wrote to Isabella, and hastened to 'la 1 ateaeans. The first idea whieh nwnrm rred to in was, that of bribing some ot the sennts of the Duke of Santa-Cruz, but he fen abandoned that design when he consJered the futility of such a course, and e danger w hich it would involv of comjomising the duchess. After long refleton, he conceived the following strat agen He knew that Isabella had for her confeor a Benedictina Monk, and al- thoug this man was of incorruptible in tegrity.ie resolved to make him the bearer of his essage. 'Itajiond,' said he to his valet, 'thou wilt goliis day to confession.' 'Me,ioiiseigneur?' 'Th thyself.' 'But have no sin upon my conscience.' xou-e iortunate: nevertheless it must be youibusiness to find one. Listen: thou w immediately seek father Fer- nand, Sirior of the Benedictines, and in- torm hit under the seal of confession, that thoulast heretofore purloined many articles fi-j the Duchess of Santa-Cruz, writ is rntr . It .1 ..uh-u luirsunQw cjinp.us mee to re store, andlou wilt then hand the holy lauier mis Vket. At these rds, admiration of the genius of his mastejlHed the mind of the valet in lieu of thcqrprise which his proposal had at first onioned. The revera father, touched by the re pentance of Hmond, readily took charge of the common, and secretly handed the precious iket to the duchess. As tonished at thifestimtion of articles, the loss of which srt was unable to recall, she at first hesitate0 receive them, but fe male instinct, jiej wim tie urgency of me pnesi, inured over her scruples, and she accepteem. When alone, Isa bella hastened topen the casket, and there found the of the marquis. A lively emotion used her countenance, and after havingast around a cautious glance, she Irembigly read as follows: Senora, I knoall; y0u are the most unfortunate of wofc, but I have sworn to release you from 4 barbarous jealousy of your husband; tl night, at midnight, come to your baty-: 1 will be thereby servants will awaife in the street, where every tiling shall arranged for your flight,' How imprudeuL1UrmureOie alarm ed duchess. j In fact, the mutopUVcrsation held in the church between yaung girl and the marquis, unnoticed! the duenna and the two valets, had bedobscrved by a third spy, secretly sent to watch the others, and was faithfully reported to the Duke of Santa Cruz. It caused a keen pang of jealousy, but the fault in consideration was comparatively venial, and besides, his power was too great to cause much feaf of any , result. He therefore repressed his rage, and contented himself with prohibit ing the duchess from approaching the out er windows of the palace. As thejnotive for this new severity was not apparent, Isabella supposed that her husband, a prey to the attack of some new distrust, wished to allay his fears by the exercise of extra ordinary watchfulness over her. There was enough, however, in the rash under taking of the young Frenchman to cause her the greatest alarm; but it now too late to find means to dissuade -him from his enterprise. The letter of the marquis plunged her into a state of the most fear ful anxiety. Although flight from this ill omened dwelling, where her youth and beauty were alike wasting unheeded, was from repugnant to her breast, the proposi tion had been so suddenly made, that she experienced the keenest agitation. She finally resolved to visit the rendezvous in dicated by the marquis, at midnight,' mere ly to induce him to renounce a project so rash and dangerous. The evening passed slowly like a cen tury. Far from becoming calm, reflection only increased her agitation, and when the midnight hour sounded, she hardly posses sed sufficient strength to stand upright. Meanwhile, all was in apparent repose in the palace of Santa Cruz; the lights were extinguished, and the most perfect silence reigned throughout. Isabella, having summoned her resolution, glided noiseless ly to the fatal vwndow; she hesitated for an insiant, men recovering her courage, sprang upon the balcony. The marquis was already there. 'Senora, cried he 'I love you, and come to save you.' 'Speak lower,' replied tlrc duchess, pressing his mouth with her hand, 'and if you love me, withdraw. Ilerl, your life is in danger.' i 'I know how to defend it.' Your courage is vain.' 'Be it so. My death at least will be of service to you. You are the victim, se nora, of an odious tyranny; do not refuse the opportnnity now offered for escape; all is ready for your flight; follow me.' 'I cannot. I dare not.' What can you fear more dreadful than your present state of suffering? In the name of heaven, do not refuse! You have not a moment to lose. Hasten.' Saying these words, the young man cov ered the hand of the duchess with kisses. She, weak and exhausted from the conflict of emotions, offered but a feeble resistance, and suffered herself, almost mechanically, to be drawn forward by the marquis. Suddenly a dark shadow appeared behind the window. Fly!' exclaimed Isabella, uttering a fearful shriek as she recognized her hus band and fell fainting on the floor. Taken thus unawares, the marquis pre cipitately descended the wall. 'Quick!' shouted the old duke, from a bove: 'and, remember, no mercy.' Then, hastily closing the window and re-entering the apartment, he drew his sword and ran to join his domestics, who, rushing in a crowd from the palace, had already commenced a vigorous attack on the people of the marquis. He, however, had already had time to rc-ascend the bal cony and conceal himself behind the bal ustrade. The noise of the contest soon ceased, and silence the most profound en- oucu. uui amiosi immediately new sounds were heard in the interior of the palace. The young Frenchman lent an attentive ear, for he fully comprehended the danger which impended over Isabella. A bright light suddenly appeared in her chamber, and rendered every object which it contained visible to the marquis. He beheld the duchess led in, gagged in such a manner as to prevent her from uttering a single cry, and held in the grasp cf two powerful valets. The Duke of Santa Cruz (it was evidently him, judging from his thick white moustaches end richSpai ish garb, which he pertinaciously retained, despite the orcers of the court, from hatred to the French,) followed behind, with his naked sword in his hand. He indicated a particular chair, by a, glance of his eye, to the two domestics, a sign which they ap parently understood, for they instantly placed Isabella in it, and carefully bound her with cords, The old duke, by a ges ture, then ordered all the domestics to re tire, and turning towards a third, who, up to this time, had remained apart and with drawn in an cmbrazure of the window Domingo,' said he, 'go instantly for master Pedro.' At the name of master Pedro the Mar quis trembled, his hair stood on end, and an icy sweat imbued his forehead; he leap ed from the balcony. After a few stens ii; uie sirect he saw v 1 approaching him a man enveloped in a mantle, who cautious ly glided along the side of the wall. De sirous of avoiding this annoying meeting, the Marquis was about crossing the street, when the unknown paused, and seemed to examine him attentively. Back!' cried the nobleman, placing his hand on his sword. Ah! Monseigneur, is it indeed you,' ex claimed the mysterious personage. We thought you were lost.' It was Raymond, who was wandering around the palace of Santa-Cruz, in quest of his master. Where are my people?' demanded the Marqui3. They have retired with the horses to the 4Place Mayor.' ' It is well let them await me there. He then disappeared rapidly down one of the adjacent streets, eager to anticipate the emissary of the Duke. Master Pedro was an old armorer from Toledo, who had resided some years past in Madrid, lie was in the habit, every evening after sunset, of taking a solitary walk in the great square of the Cathedral, armed with a tremendous sword and pis tols in his girdle. There, those who de sired to avenge an injury or gratify their hatred, sought him; and no one ever re pented giving him their confidence. The most extriordtnary tales were narrated of him; and his open impunity, in spite of his numerous examinations, led to the uni versally entertained opinion, that even Government had availed itself of his cour age. As to the rest, the high price he placed upon his services exposed none but noble victims to his blows; and this fact served rather to astonish than to alarm the citizens of Madrid. In the meantime, the servant of the duke of Santa Cruz had ar rived at the dwelling of Master Pedro, and was knocking at the door. It finally opened. Master Pedro,' said the servant, 'an op portunity offers for you to gain 200 pias tres to-night. Will you follow me and allow me to bandage your eyes?' 'Willingly,' replied Pedro, taking his weapons. Domingo then bound a handkerchief a roundhis head, and leading him forward, conducted him by the arm. Upon their arrival at the palace, the bandage was ta ken from his eyes. Pedro found himself in the apartment where Isabella sat bound. At the sight of this fearful being-, his face almost covered with his shaggy beard, the Duchess shook witli terror. 'Domingo,' said the Duke, who had not quitted the chamber, 'go, and forbid my servants to move, whatever sounds they may hear.' Then turning to the Duchess, Now Madame,' added he, 'prepare to die. As to you, Master Pedro,' said the old Duke, 'I would observe, that no one of my servants would dare raise his hand a gainst his mistress, and for myself, my wrist has no longer the steady nerve re quisite to strik a sure blow; I have there fore sent for you to inflict my vengeance upon my wife.' Monseigneur, replied Pedro, making with his sword that of the old Duke spring to the extremity of the apartment, I attack men, who can defend themselves; as for women, I protect them. Instantly unbind the Senora, or I will slay you and then discharge that office in your stead.' The Duke, confounded by the audacity of these words, at first attempted to re gain his sword; but Pedro confronted him so resolutely, with his drawn weapon, that he was compelled to yield and obey. Now Senora,' said Pedro, approaching Isabella, fly there is a silken ladder hang ing from the balcony; and a horse, ready saddled, awaits you in the Place Mayor!' But Isabella, overcome with surprise, could not withdraw her eyes from those of the bravo. Ah! you are right,' said he, drawing off his glove, and presenting his tablets to the Duchess. 4I forgot to give you the means of finding me, in case you should again need my asssstance. Isabel la received the tablet mechanically; but casting her eye upon Pedro's hand, she beheld the ring which sparkled on his fin- brer. Great God!' exclaimed she, recognizing the Marquis. She then fled precipitately by the window. After sufficient time had elapsed to ena ble tli3 Dutches to baffle all pursuit, the false bravo turned to the old Duke, who had remained until this moment silent from excess of rage and fury. Monsieur 1c due,' said the Marquis, you will excuse poor Pedro, who out of courtesy to me, has been, for the last hour, promenading the streets ot Madrid.' He then followed the Dutchess. The Duke of Santa-Cruz, roused from his lethargy by these words, seized his sword and ran to the balcony; but the ladder was gone, and there was no longer any one in the street. The old man died with Tpcrti during the nieht, and some few mnrilio lotor. ihra Marnuis de Vi l fc . , 4 Kranebe. the husband of Isabella, depait- IXC wjtli her to France, the morals of which eountry, without being better than those of Spain, were rather more hypocritical. Dovr Jr. on California.. We make the following extract from one of Dow Jrs Patent Sermons, recently published. It contains truths worthy of consideration at this time: ' f - Mv II earers I know very well what you imagine will procure to you bliss by the hogshead; It is that wretched, filthy stuff called money.- This it is keeps your souls in a flutter, and set3 you jumping like a lot of chained , monkeys at the sight of a string of fresh fish. You think if you only possessed a certain heap of the lucre, you would lie off in lavender make mouths at care say, How are yc? to sor row laugh at time, and feel a3 happy as an oyster in June: O, yes! if you only had enough of the trash, "l admit you might feel satisfied and of course contented; but in such cases, more, (according to Daboll and the devil,) the last more requires most, most want3 more yet; and so on, to the end of everlasting. There is no such thing as; enough in worldly riches. As well might the sow be supposed to get c uough of wallowing in the mire, as fcr a mortal to be satisfied with rolling in the carrion of wealth. So false are your ideas on the means to obtain happiness, that you would, if you could, coax angels from the skies to rob them of the jewels in their dia dems. I haven't the least doubt of it. My dear friends I will tell you how to enjoy as much bliss as heaven can afford to humans. Be contented with what you have, no matter how poor it is, till you have an opportunity to get something bet ter. Be thankful for every crumb that falls from the table of Providence, and live in the constant expectation of having the luck to pilch upon a whole loaf. Have patience to put up with present troubles, and console yourselves with the idea that your situations are. paradices ccmpared with others. When you enough to cat to satisfy hunger enough to drink to quench thirst; enough to wear to keep you decent and comfortable; just enough of what is vulgarly called tin' to procure you a few luxuries, when you owe no one, and no one owes you, not even a grudge then if you are not happy, all the gold in the uni verse cannot make you so. A man much wiser than I, once said, give me neither poverty nor riches; and 1 look upon him as the greatest philosopher that the world ever produced. All he wanted was a con tented mind, sufficient bread and cheese, and a clean shirt. Take the pattern after him, O yc discontented mortals who vain ly imagine that bliss alone is to be found in the palaces of wealth ayd opulence. My hearers If you consider all crea tion too poor to afford you a pennyworth of pure blessedness, you must pray to be come reconciled by its poverty. Grease your prayers with faith, and send them up in earnestness, hot from the soul's oi'cn. This manufactoring cold petitions with the lips, while the heart continually cries Gam mon, is of no more use than talking Choc taw to a Chinese. Heaven understands no such gibberish; it knows only the pure, simple language of the spirit the soul's vernacular. So when you pray, do it in as simple a manner as possible but with red hot earnestness, and your souls will find rest wherever you are whether nib bling at a crust in poverty hollow, or half starving in California, while endeavoring to transmogrifry a bag of gold dust into an Indian-puddiug. So mote it be. Dow Jk. Questions abuct Young Ladies. A correspondent wants to know how it is that delicate young ladies, too delicate to run up aud down stairs in their own houses, aro able to dance down the strong est man in a ball-room. Tis a phenome na of nature, of which no one seems capa ble of giving an explanation. What young girl ever refused a handsome part ner at five o'clock in the morning, on the score of being 4so tired!' The correspon dent who applies to us in his extremity, is respectfully informed, we don't know. Young ladies arc queer commodities, and are not to bo subjected to the rules of com mon sense. All we can say about them, is, that they arc very delicate at times, and, at other times, not so muth so. They very often arc afflicted with ill health in the morning, and iu the evening go out tu parties and balls with thin drets s and thinner shoes. All wc can say to our cor respondent is, seek not to know what you may not know. If you arc desirous of learning many, mysteries a bout the char acter of young ladies which- now 5ccni paradoxical, engage one of them for a wife. After the happy not is tied, she will doubt less enlighten you on many subjects, which till then , must remain mighty un sartin." Sunday Disptdch. CPThe Lynn Forum says "the ur e of a bass-viol - in the churches is a basrs-viol-ation of the Sabbath."