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Taukbannock, September 11, 1961.
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™vrsiliHS:, !,I,T " TRKET
LOLA MONTEZ.
SKETCHED IN SMILES AND SHADOWS
BY GRACE GREBSWOOD.
I spent the winter of 1802 in "Washing
ton. It was rather a dull season politically.
The attrofphere about the Capitol wassul
en and portentous. Disagreeable wran
gles, that led to nothing but inteaser ill
feeling, were the order oi each day.* After
unsatisfactory mornings, spent in watching
Congressioiiel proceedings, which were
neither amusing nor edifying, we turned
with more than usual zest to musical and
dramatic entertainments. Among the
latter, perhaps, might be included the
somewhat profuse and deluding honors
paid to Kossuth.
Charlotte Cusliman p'ayed a long en
gag' ment at the National riieatie that
season, filling the singe with the grand
sweep and regal of her genius charming
in social life with rare wit aTicJ culture—
with the womanly truth of her nature and
th? genial simplicity ot h<T manners all
of winch followed some tempest ot tragic
power like sunshine, rainbows and sott
airs, after tropical tornado.
Then came Ole Bull, with his wierd
violin, his ar:i-tie ectacios and trances,
and his well preserved boyishness of enthu
siasm—and Catnerine ilaycs, the sweet
smgHu; bird >' rts Shunnon.
Following Cushman, that fixed star of
the drama, came the lawless, erratic little
meteor, Li* MotiteZ.
Every bod v knew that she was bv no
means a nice and proper young person,
vet everybody was anxious t< see that
dancing enchantress, who owned he is it
to being "wild and wayward—though
never wicked"—that subdue* of elderly
kings and tamer of young husi-ands —and
evervbody went once at least, and was
subject fi>r one perilous evening to the
P'-I1 of her dork, splendid entangling eyes
and C rciao lavinations. S!ie„ appeared
raeiely as a dancer, and she was* hardly
th it. Daring and dazzling, she was want
ing in grace and Hl' iMic finish. She
show.d a s..rt of petulant disdain of the
ordinary arts of the dan ;tu.-e, relying
wholly, it seemed, ou tbe piquant beauty
of her face and the splendor of her cos
tumes. Her form was light and lithe, but
too thin at thai tune for perfect symmetry.
Beautiful she was with those wonderful
oyts, blazing forth now and then from un
der long, heavy drooping lash--*—and her
dsrk, soft, abundant hair, gathered back
from her low forehead in lovely, shining
ripples, and lit by some gorgeous tropical
flower. Yet to me there was something
sad in her passionate, defiant, utterly im
peachable face. Alas, it would have seemed
sad bevond-tears, could 1 have foreseen the
piteous, dreary ending of that erring and
wasted life, of that in id, b ufied chase after
pleasure ; 'be sudden awful blight of par
alysis—the painful death .so wearily pro
longed—the fun< ral of the forgotten cour
tesan —the humble grave of the Magdalen.
Very little is really known of Lola MOP-
I tez, though several sketches of her 'ife
J have been written —one purporting to be
from her own pen. One ot our party at
the theatre that night was an English
gauthman, who had seen her several
wars before, at her first appearance iu
London, bhe was then, he said, exqni
sitelv beautitu , yet was hissed, not for her
had dancing, though that may have de
served it, but be-ause of her being recog
nized, by some officer* in the pit, as an
English oran Irish woman, and the run
away wife of a captain in the army. She
had, it seems, left her husband in India,
with the understanding tbat she was going
to England o i a visit, but she went no
farther than bpain, where she took some
lessons in Spati;.-h aijd ballet d-nci:.g,
After gaining some little reputation on
the Continent, she was daring enough to
appear under lmr pretty Spanish sobri
puet ou the boards of Drury Lane. Her
English career was very snort. She was
next heard ot as playing a m re import ant,
if not a more honorable role, as the chief
favorite,friend and adviser of King Lud
wig, of Bavaria —as the power behind
that respectable, but not very" imperial
throne, which stands in a gorgeous, gilded
hall in the new palace at Munich. Lud
wi"* was a gentleman of much energy and
enterprise, and of artistic fa*tes. lie had
built a tine palace and noble museums of
art. He had been the generous patron of
sculptors and painters, aud had greatly
beautified the capita! city. His loyal
subjects had been willing to indulge him
in his pretty edifices, but they did object
to the scandal and co-t involved in his
infatuation for the young Spanish danseuxr
who had turned his royal head with her
heel*, and firt-d L a 1 "-a iy-going* old Ger
i man heart with her wicked witch eyes.—
It was an attachment highly paternal an.l
platonic doubtless, but necessitating in the
munificent royal mind, a handsome estab
lishment, horses, phretons, dogs, diamonds,
and finally the titlu and estates of a Coun
tess. •
Well, those loving subjects grew more [
and moie aver*- to seeing th ir august j
sovereign bowing his annointed head to
kiss the*hand ot a dancing adventuress. —
They denied his divi.ie right to make a
fool of himself i his old. aga. They ridi
culed, they reviled, they raved. They fi
nally made the crown too hot for thic
monarch's .head, and it was laid down
more in sorrow than in anger—aud Max
iruillian took# up, aud wore it royally
enough, 1 believe. ,
Lola Mootez, or Madame the Countess
of LandbfeldVwhoee unveracity baa never
"TO SPEAK HIS THOUGHTS IS EVERY FREEMAN'S RIGHTS."—Thomas Jelftrwn,
TU NKHANNOCK, PA., WEDNESDAY, APR. 17, 1867.
been impeached, aaid that her persecution
results from her having advocated reforma
political "and religious, which roused
against her the Jesuits, that immortal
and übiquitous society, which has
borne so much killing, and so thrive
on proscription. The priests, she said, set
on the students an ungallant set of Ger
man boors, who quarreled with her dogs
and did not take horse whipping meekly.
Certain it is that she was compelled to
leave Munich without much time for pack
ing ; but perhaps she went not altogether
unwillingly; the dull life of a small Cer
raan capital must have bored her immense
ly, and she was evidently not meant for
"an old man's darling "
II I remember rightly, the next the world
heard of her was a piece of piquant scan
dal, She had somewhere caught in her
toils —those subtle toils, seemincrly light
and silver as gossamer, yet iu reality as
strong as steel, and as tenacious as grap
pling irons —a wealthy and well born
vouiig Englishman, and marrit-d him. He
was under age and of intellect, and
as it was presumed that'he had give.) him
sell in marriage tinder the spell of the evil
eye (a pair of them,) if not under actual
bodily fear, his friends resolved to rescue
him and separate the ill-matched couple.
Tiun followed that famous pursuit over
the continent, from city to city, Lola Mon
tez always keeping a little ahead, havmg
in close custody her terrified and submis
sive victim. A pretty chase she.led them,
but they overtook her, at last —her hus
band went over to the enemy, who bore
him off in triumph. Then there was a tri
al. The law vindicated injured male inno
cence, wealth and respectibility, and di
vorci'd the' poor young gentleman —the
mere wrick ot himself, his friends said,
hut it is to be hoped he was brought round
again, on toast and wine-wiiey, and ripen
ed at hut into an average Briton of the
' swell" tvpe, which Leech so delighted to
picture-
It was well for poor Lola that all this
did nut happen a ceutury earlier. Her
judges would then have shut their eyes,
and con lemced her to hanging or drown
ii,.r as a witch. She was now afloat aga.n,
and, like all floating things, she naturally
drifted to America.
On the same steamer with the Ex-Gov
t-rnor of Hungary, came the ex dictatrcM
of Bavaria. It was noticed that she tried
her fasciaation on the great Magyar, but
without avail. She daily sat near bim on
deck, looking charming, even in her sea
wraps, gazing dreamily over the cigarette.
And he too smoked ami dreamed, and re
luembere 1 and hoped ; but his cigar wax
the sedative of a brain overwrought by
grand schemes and great thoughts—his
dreams were noble, his memoiies solemn,
his hopes beneficent, and if he 1 eeded that
woman of unwomanly ways, it was to give
a thought of pity to the restless heurt aud
the wasted life.
The theatrical career of Lola Montez in
tho States was not tr.lliant or prolonged.
F w wished to see her more than once—
she flitted fr. m cty to city, doing some
very generous thii gs, let it be rem -mber
ed of her—showing especial kindness to
wards children, who were iu sormw and
in need. Then sighing, like liiru of Mace
don for a new world to conquer, she flitted
to California, where she saw life under a
thousand new aspects, each one wilder
than tbe last. She flung herself, with
reckless abandon, with what seemed pure,
irish Deviltry, into that rough, adventu
rous life, unsubdued, unterrified, incorrigi
ble, under some very hard experiences.—
Strange stories of her her
crazy freaks, her desperate, daring wavs,
eame to us and made us laugh, yet idiud
der while we laughed. She tamed bears,
rode en cat-ilier, gambled, shot at and
horsewhipped her enemies, flung about
Iter money and married right and left. She
seemed to have a mania for marrying ar.d
being "divorced, for falling in love and
lighting her way out —poor mad little # eiu
ner!
At length broken in health, if not in
spirit, she returned to the Atlantic States,
and heyag a new career, as a lecturer. —
Herhctnres were flimsy, patched up af
fairs, and of questionable moral tone. —
Tliey were probably not written altogether
bv herself- —yet I should say she could
have produced something better, it less
ambitious, had she given naturally and
simply, recollections of the strange coun
trios and peoples she had seen. Though
not a well educated woman, her conversa
tion was said to be singularly spark dag
and racy. Yet the flash and swi-ep of her
magnificent eyes and the bewitching fall
of her lustrous dark lnir wnt far with the
gem ral audience to make up for the lack
of wit and wisdom in her words. Though
apparently the most rosp-Kjtable, this peri
o 1 was perhaps the most pitiiblo of ber
life. The tool of unprincipled men, she
had entered on a work for which she was
even less fitted than for the profession of
the dancer, and in which she depended
more diieelv fot success on ber unenviable
repute. Though her dress was modest
and her manner grave, her lectures were
more demoralizing than her dancing had
been. She usually read vc-rv nicely, with
no effort at oratory or display of feeling;
but on the night when I heard her, a
a somewhat obj ctionable passage w9 dis
tinctly hissed by a gentleman sitting in
front of the platform. Instantly a gust of
passion swept over her lovely face, trans
forming it into something terrible. She
paused, fixed her eyes on the offender, and
seemed lika a tigress just about to
, springs She mastered her anger, however
and went on reading, but with a fiarce
gleam in her oyes to the end.
.After this, out of sight out of mind she
passed wholly, till I heard of her sudden
illness —that erne! stroke that left her help
less and so pitiable, blighted and aged be
fore time—a fate most terrible for an or
ganization like hers, all nerves and fire and
action. Then followed the long dim twi
light of that life of fitful and lurid brilliance,
misty and chill, and ushering in a night
that seemed quite dreary and starless But
the poor soul thought she saw amid the
mists of the gloom the steady shiniug of the
Star of Stars, gracious and pitiful—the Star
that shone over the Manger of Bethlehem
and came out above the Cross of Calvary ;
and on this side she fixed, to the last, those
great dark eyes through which had blazed
every wild hrimaa passion and sinful be
gnilcment, but which had sometimes sof
tened, with human pity and overflowed
with penitent tears. So who would dare
deny to them the right to look toward
those divine beckoning rays of peace and
pardoning grace ?
I have beard from a lady who knew the
kind Samaritans who nursed poor Lola
Nlontez in bur last sickness, that her grate
ful gentleness and humility were very pa
thetic. Tiiat fierce, rebellious nature seem
ed utteily tarued. She crept to the foot
of the Cross and crouched there weeping,
till she seemed to hear the gracious words
"Thy sins are forgiven.thee."
In the summer of 1863 I vim ted Mun
ich. While driving about that fine capital,
which, from its aspect of aewnesy, seems
more like an American than a European
city, ihe beautiful residence allotted by ttie
late King to Madame Lola Montez was
pointed out to us by our valet de palace.
"Was she very unpopular in Munich ?"'
I asked.
"Yes, madame, with our most respecta
ble citizens, and latterly with the students
—but she was good to the poor—they
missed her."
In the Art Gallery of the new palace,
King Ludwig, who was a great connoisseur
of beauty, bad set apart a hall for the por
traits of living European beauties, and at
the head of all these we found a portrait
of Lola Montez flecidedlv the loveliest pic
ture there. Even the reigning Queen, a
voting aud pretty women, was given a less
honorable position in the gallery. YYe
were told that the old King exacted of his
successor a promise that tins picture ahould
remain in its place, at least while Ite lived.
lagthe rose-embowered 9tudio of Kaul
bach we found another portrait of—as the
painter named her — 44 the Couatess of
Landerfildt."' It was a full length, in an
antique Spanish dress, a superb aud stately
picture, after the style of Vandyke
One hiight afternoon in this winter of
18C7, 1 was wandering through Greenwood
Cemetery, and suddenly came upon an
humble grave, in a small three cornered
lot, quite unadorned, and only marked by
a plain white stone, bearing simply this in
scription :
44 Mrs. Eliza Gilbert. Died February
\Tth , 1866 — aged 42."
Jt was the of Lola Montez!
I could scarcely realize that after such a
free, wild swing at life, from continent to
continent, she had been limited to such a
narrow domain. llow that little triangu
lar hedge seemed to imprison that wilful
untamable creature, that rebel against so
ciety, that Zingara of the world! How
heavily the earth seemed to rest on that
strange, wild heart, passionate as fire, in
consistent ag water. How still she lay.
who bad seemed like some gleaming tropi
cal bird, gay and fierce and restless.
Kind people provided this place of re
pose for her poor, weary, faded body, but
it is hardly likely that they often visit the
spot. There me here no floral tokens of
lovely remembrance. Doubtless, many
an unmarked grave in the Potter's Field,
on the hilLide, is more frequently visited.
But as I stood over that mound, I felt only
womanly pity and regret, and gladly would
I have laid thereon an offering of flowers,
to fade on the brown turf as her beauty had
faded from the world ; not sumptuous ro
ses, typical of her in her lovely prime,
when the great German painted her—no
lillies, which might seem to reproach her
memory—but a bunch of purple Heart's
Lasc, breathing reconcilement and peace.
—Philadelphia Hnne Weekly.
ne richest nun of the world, it is
said, will probably be young Lord Bel
grave, the grand-son of the Marquis of
Westminster, if he lives to inherit the
property of the latter. The present in
come of the estate is estimated at 15,000
a dRy ; but ten years hence, bv the exp ra
tion of numerous long leases at notuioal
rents it will probably be SIOO,OOO. Earl
Groevener is the father of Lord Belgrave
and the son of the Marquis of Wistmiuis
ter. Lord Belgrave is now thirteen years
6f age.
$2" Many a person thinks he is honest
because he has never cheated. Instead
of that, he is only honest because lie has
never been tempted. What the world
calls "innate goodness" is very often a
full stomach, and what it terms vicfe is
duite as frequently an empty bread basket.
fljg'Dr. Marsh says the best antidote
for dissipation is marriage. Men resort to
gin and sugar, not because they are de
praved but because they are lonely. Out
of every dozen men you 6ee banging about
our porter bouses, ten, he observe!, are
without a female comforter. Here's a bint
worth dwelling on.
THHMS, SB.OO PER. AJfJIOM
A STRAMGE CAT.)
Pat Malopey, better known by the name
of Father Pat,, on returning from work one
evening, was met at the gate by.Biddv, bis
better half, in a high state of excitement.
"Pat," says she, "there'B a strange cat in
the cabin." *
"Cast her out, thin ; don't be botherin'
me about the baste."
"Faix an' I've' been strivin' to do that
for the mather of tin minits past, but she is
beyant my reach, behind the big red chest
in the corner Will yez be after helpin'
me dhrive her out, Pat V
"To be sure I will ; bad luck to the con
sate she has for me bouse. Show her to
me, Biddy, till I tache her the respect that's
due to a man in his own house —to be tak
iu' possession without so much as by yer
lave—the thafe o' the world !'
Now, Pat had a special antipathy to cats,
and Yiever let pass an opportunity to kill
one. This he resolved to do in the present
case, and instantly formed a plan for '.he
purpose. Perceiving but one way of egress
for the animal, he says to Biddy :
"Hav yez iver a male bag in the house
me darliut ?"
"Divil a one is there, Pat. Yez took it
to tbe mill wid yez, to bring home chips,
this morn in'."
"Faix an' did, and there fit is yet, thin.
And have ye nothin' at all at all in tbe
house that will tie up like a bag, Biddy"?"
"Troth an' I have, I\it—thti e'snie Sun
day petticoat—ytt can draw the strings
close at the top an' sure it will be better
for not lettin' the cat lavin' ye."
4 Biddy, durlint, ye're a jewel; just be
after bringin' it to me at wanst."
Biddy brought" the garment, and sure
enough it made a good substitute for a
bag. Pat declared at a glance tbat it
was "illegant.'*
So, holding it close against ihe edge cf
the chest, he took a look behind and saw
a pair of eyes glaring at him.
"An' is it there ye are, ye devil? Be
out o" 1 that, now, bad luck to yez- ye tha
vin vagabone. Bed-id an' ye won't lave
at all with perlite axin'—yerself will bate
the pigs intirely. Biddy, hav yez any
hot wather?"
"Sure I've the full of a tav kettle all a
bilin', Pat"
"Be after ca*tin'the matter of a quart
thin behind the chest, and we'll see how
the baste minds the like o' that."
"Howld close, thin, here goes the steam
in' hot water." So saying.d <sh went the wa
ter and out came the animal into Pat's trap.
"Arrab, be tbe howly poker, I lave him
now, Biddy," says Pat. "Is it nine lives
ye have, ye baste ? Well, now, be axin
me pardon for all the tliavin' ye've bin
doin' in my house or its nine lives will
not save ye. Biddy, saze howld o' the
p. ker, and whilst 1 shoulder the bag, just
whack daylights out o' the haythio divil
intirely."
pat threw the bundle over his shoulder
and Giddy struck about three b'ows to tbe
tune ot St. Patrick's day in the morning
when she suddenly stopped.
"What smells so quair, Pat ? Sure its
takin' away wid the power of it. Oh,
murther, Pat! it's the devil ye have in the
sack!"
"Bate him, thin—bate the horns off!"
"I'm faiutin," said Biddv ; "cast him off
ye, Pat!"
"Ocli, murther! murther! Biddy Ms
loney, what have ye done? Ae've went
and mistaken a horrible pole cat for a
barrumless tame cat ?"
"Pat, for the love o' God, if ye're con
venient to the door unclose it, for I'm per
itlit intirely. Oh, Biddy Maloney, that
iver you should lave ould Ireland to be
smoth'-red and murthered in this way!'
"Faix the little vill n bates the divil
himself; he's ruined me house and kit
Biddy, an' put me out o' consate wid me
own self. Oh, the inurtheriu' baste!"
By the dint of washing aud scouring and
airing, aud the burial of Biddy's best pet
ticoat under the ground for a space of
time, things were at length set to right
again. But Dot a little recrimination took
place between tbem on tbe occasion, and
neither ever forgot the expubion from the
cabin of Biddy'* "strange cat."
AMdnlt llwsband.—Our reporter was
around hunting a house for a friend, and
called to see a family who were preparing
to vacate a cosy dwelling. As the door
stood open, reporter wJked in without
knocking, and his eyes straightway light
ed on the dame of the household, who .was
making frantic lunges with a broomstick
at some object under the bed.
"Good morning, madam. Ah ! you
have a troublesone cat under the bed?'
44 Troublesome cat? no,sir! It's that
Sneaking hUifiand of mine, and I'll have
UilD out or break every bone in LiS body !"
"You will, eh?" saiJ a faint voice under
the bed. "Now, Sal, you may rave and
pound and pound and rave, but I'll be dodg
ed if 111 come out from this bed while I
have got the spirit of a man about me /"
Said Anna's perceptor: " A kiss is
a noun;
But tell me if'proper' or 'common,"'
he cried.
With checks of and eye lids
cast down.
'Tis both common and psorsß," the
pupil replied.
y The recent marriage of Mr. Day
with Miss Field presents singular
anomaly, that atthough ha sitnn run
nam sha won the DAT.
* k_ ■ ■ v-
VOL. 6 NO. 36 •
VVauted—A Printer
" Wanted —a Printer," eavs a cotempo
rary. Wanted —a mechanical curiosity,
with a brain and fingers—a thing that will
set so many types a day—a machine that
will think and act, but still a machine—a
being who understands the most systemat
ic and monotonous drudgery, vet one the
ingenuity of man has never supplanted
mechanically—that's a Printer. „ \
A Printer—yet for all his sometimaa
dissipated and reckless habits—a worker,
at all limes and hours, day and night: sit
ting up in a close and unwholesome office,
when gay crowds are hurrying to the thea
tres —later still, when tbo street revelers
are gone, and the city sleeps—in the fresh
air of morning—in the broad and gushing
sunlight—some -'printing machine" is at
his case with his eternal, unvarying click 1
click!
Click ! click ! the polished tvpes fall in
to the stick—the mute integers of expres
sion are marshaled into line, and march
fwith as ipniortaut print. Click ! and the
latest intelligence becomes old—the tho't
a principle —the idea a living sentiment.
Click ! click ! from the grave to gay, item
after item —a robbery, a murder, a bit of
scandal, a grac ful and glowing thought
are in turn closed by the mute and im
pressive fingers of the machine and set
ad:ift in the sea of thought. He must not
think of the future, nor recall the past —
must not think of home, of kindred, of wife
or of babe—his work lies before him, and
thought is chained to his copy.
Yon know him by his walks, who read
the papers and are quick at typographical
errors —whose eye may rest on these muta
evidences of Ceaseless toil; coarespond
ents, editors and authois, who scorn the
i-iinple medium of \ our fame, think not
that the Printer is altogether a machine—
think not he is indifferent to the gem of
which lie is hut the setter; the subtle r ay
may penetrate the recesses of his brain ; of
the flowers he g ithers, some may leave
their fragrance npon his toil-work fingers.
l>ut when you seek a friend, companion,
adviser, when you would elevate one who
for sympathy may represent either or both,
when you want Judges,. Legislators, Gov
ernors and Presidents—O, ye people, ad
vertise : "Wantkd — A Printer."
MAItNIIRS AMD MORALS.
Manners easily and rapidly mature into
rnoials. As childhood advances to man
hood, the transition from bad manners to
bad morals is amio-t imperceptible. Vul
gar and obscene foimsof speech keep vul
gar and oh<cene ohjets before the miod t
engender impure imag-s in the imagina
tion, and make unlawful desires prurient.
Fiox the prevalent state of the niind ac
tions proceed, a water rises from a foun
tain. "lienee what was originally a word
or a phrase becomes a thought, is meretri
ciously einbelished by the imagination, ia
inflamed into a vicious desire", gains strength
and boldness by always being made wel
come, until at last, under some urgent
temptation, it dares, for once, to put on the
miserable form of sic ion ; it is then veti
tmed upon again and again, more frequent
ly and less warily, until repetition forges
chains of habit; and then language, imag
ination, desire and habit bind their victim
in the prison-house of sin. In this way
profane language wears away the reverence
for things sacred and holy ; and a child
who has been allowed to follow, and mock
and hoot at an intemperate mi in the
streets, is far more likely to become in
temperate man himself than if he bad
been accustomed to regard him with pity,
as a fallen brother, and. with a sacred ab
horence, alone seif-brutified or demonized.
So, on the other hand, purity and ehaste
ness of language tend to preserve purity
and chasfeness of thought and of taste;
they repel licentious imaginings ; they de
light in the unsul'ied and the untainted,
and all their tendencies and aptitudes are
on the side of virtue.
The Rev, Albert Barr.cs says ; ilt
is the bubbling stream that flows genMy ;
the little rivulet which runs along day and
night by the faira house, that is useful,
rather than the swollen flood or warring
cataract. Niagara excites our wonder and
we stand amaz-dat the power greatness of'
God there; as lie pours in from the hol
low of his hand. But one Niagara is
enough for the continent •of tho world,
while the same wor'd requires thousands
and tens of thousands of silver fountains
and gently flowing rivulets that water ev
ery farm and meadow; and every garden,
and "hall flow on every day and night with
tin ir gentle, quiet beauty. So with the
acts of our lives. It is not by great dee Is,
like those of the martyrs, good is to be
done, but by tiie daily and quiet virtues
of life, the Christian temper, the good qual
ities of relatives and fiiends."
✓ ■ •
There's always one consolation,
i whatever our misfortune—it might be
| worse. Were life hanging on a thread, it
j would be a comfort -to think that it was
| not hanging on a rope.
£3ST A Merchant's advice in selecting a
I wife was : "Get hold of a piece of calico
that will WASH.
Live, remembering you must die, •
Time flies! The words I have spoken ai>
subtracted from it.
To remove stains from the charaa,
ter —get rieb.
is ! -i -i 't-.. j.Ji <rn *a'jrn
'• J i n ?:
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