« ElőzőTovább »
was gradually recovering from the fatigue fortune, chance, a happy turn of affairs, paand agitation of her journey, and creeping tience, good generalship, would enable them slowly into the pleasure-grounds with her to take advantage of the first break in the husband; the lost Duchess de Montpensier clouds, and regain somewhat of their lost was found; the Prince and Princess de Join- position. Even the failure of one or two ville, Duke and Duchess de Nemours, Duke schemes of this kind was, perhaps, better to and Duchess d’Aumale, with their children, them than the intolerable monotony, the gathered round the dethroned pair; and by complete blank, the absolute want of occuthe most admirable and amiable adaptation pation, motive, or hope. Ex-statesmen, of their conduct to their altered circum- fallen ministers, tried adherents, came and stances, proved themselves far greater in went. There must have been little family adversity than they had ever done in pros- councils, closetings, embassies, voluminous perity
correspondencesmall coming to nothing, yet
held better than nothing. I chanced to see “'Tis not in mortals to command success, them all, one evening, descend the dimly 5. But wo'll do more, Sempronius-we'll dc- lighted grand staircase to dinner ; the houseurcito serve it!” 114 1075
hold being drawn up in the hall, almost in The ladies plaited straw for their own bon- the dark, though gleams of bright light now nets, seated on the grass ; while the princes and then streamed from the dining-room. read aloud to them, and the children sported As each prince noiselessly descended, leadaround;
the terrible Prince de Joinville, late ing his princess-one of them the infanta, admiral of the French fleet, breathing fire whose hand, almost in her childhood, had and slaughter whenever he spoke of Albion, been so sharply contested-they seemed like pow concentrated his energies on prevent- figures in a dream, or a silent pageant in a ing the afore-named old punt from founder-theatre. ing, while he rowed his small children
Another interesting figure was soon added little Prince Pierre, and the tiny Princess to the scene Helen, the high-minded DuchFrançoise on the lake ; the dukes, his ess of Orleans: not beautiful, but good, pious, brothers, no longer the admired of all ob- energetic, dignified, Protestant; differing in serters at Longchamps, might be seen side some of her opinions from her husband's by side on the box of the old yellow fly, family, but casting in her lot among them, driving about the park. In a little while, and beloved by them all for her unaltered some of their own horses and equipages en
sweetness. She soon took a large family abled them to make a better figure; for, house on the skirts of the park, where she when things had shaken down a little, there quietly superintended the education of her was a sufficient residue of property, from one
two sons. Then came the death of that source and another, really and lawfully their busy-headed, clever, broken-hearted old king own, to enable them to live quite becomingly
-once held as the subtlest monarch in on a par with the nobility and gentry of the Europe. The Duchess of Orleans and the land. Till this could be secured, however, Duchess de Nemours were not long followthey were in anxiety and straits; and they ing him. Claremont seemed to keep up its bore their trials with meritorious patience reputation, ever since the days of Lord Clive, and fortitude. It was impressive to sec the of being fatal to those who became its occufallen king and dejected queen tottering pants; and now, a bereaved, despoiled, dialong together; the graceful princesses, minished circle gathers within its walls, with whose slightest notice had lately been so nothing to hope, nothing to fear-subdued prized, gliding through green shades, or to take meekly and with fortitude the blighted Aitting under porticoes, accompanied by lot God apportions them; and, with true their little children; in the background, the French philosophy, affording noteworthy faithful Swiss, who continued to sleep at his examples master's door, and declared that, if anybody
“What liberty He gives when we do fall forced an entrance there, it should be through
Within the compass of an outward thrall! his body.
And what contentments He bestows on them Doubtless, hopes were long cherished that Whom others do neglect, or else contemn!"* something would turn up—that Providence,
* George Wither.
From The New Monthly Magazine. management, her ladyship devoted her attention
to literature. To this evidence it may be added We are indebted to the spirited author of that one of Ireland's most distinguished Celtic "The Friends, Foes, and Adventurers of of Erris, by the late Thaddeus Connollan, itin.
scholars was assured by the late Dean Lyons Lady Morgan,” for having embodied such erant preacher in Connaught, and by the late Mr. points as were worthy of preservation from Nolan, clerk of the Ordnance at Athlone, that that pleasant, genial, and gossiping book, they had seen Owenson and his little daughter added a mass of new and important matter, act at Sligo, and elsewhere throughout Conand have thus given to the public, in a cheap, naught. But, in recording these reminiscences, accessible form, at once a trustworthy and a it is right to add that the impression of Lady readable life of that very remarkable lady. Morgan's nieces is, that she at no period apThe first chapter of the present work is al- peared on the stage.
“The result of a few substantial benefits at most entirely devoted to a narrative of her father's (Robert Owenson) theatrical career,
Smock-alley enabled Owenson to hire succesand to a picture of the
Irish stage at the close sively some of the provinical theatres in Ireland. of the last century. In the second, we have Accompanied by a small bat select company, he
went the round of them in 1785. Early perSydney Owenson at school, then on the stage, sonal and local associations led him to give the and next as youthful poetess. In connection preference of selection to the province of Con. with the second point, Mr. Fitzpatrick says : naught, “ In the first edition of this work, it was in- nian Academy, and a native of the west of Ire
A distinguished member of the Royal Hibercidentally mentioned that Lady Morgan in her land, tells me that he often heard his late father very early life had performed for some time with describe the colossal form of Owenson as he her father upon the boards ; but no authorities wound his way, with some theatrical dresses on were produced for the assertion, beyond a passing one arm, and his tiny daughter Sydney sup. reminiscence expressed by the late Dr. Burko ported on the other, down Market Street, Sligo, of the Rifle Brigade. 'I well remember," said en route to the little theatre adjacent. This inthat gentleman, the pleasure with which I saw teresting incident probably occurred about the Owenson personate Major O'Flaherty in Cumberland's then highly popular comedy of “ The at that time. It is at least certain that the good
year 1788. Mrs. Owenson must have been dead West Indian," and I also well remember that lady was not living in 1780. She remained the long-afterwards widely, famed Lady Morgan quite long enough, however, to leave an indeli: performed at the same time, with her father, ble impression on the mind of little Sydncy, and either in “ The West Indian or an afterpiece. to endear her memory, in a peculiar manner, to This took place at Castlebar before the merry, the children. In some lines on her · Birthday, convivial Lord Tyrawley and the officers of the written about the year 1738, Sydney refers to North Mayo militia.' Miss Owenson,' observed a high literary
“The cheap, the guileless joys of youthful authority, 'may have performed in private_the
hours, atricals at Castlebar before “ the convivial Lord
The strength’ning intellect's expanding pow
Immo Tyrawley," without being a member of any dra
ers; matic company, and without playing on any pub.
The doating glance of fond maternal eyes, lic stage. A genuine biographical charm at
The soft endearment of life's carliest tics : taches to the inquiry, and Mr. Fitzpatrick should
The anxious warning that so often glow'a pursue it. Lady Morgan had a most happy
On these dear lips, whence truth and fondncss
flowed. genius for the stage mimicry and characteriza. tion, was most passionately attached to private ". Those lips that ne'er the stern command imtheatricals, and it would be carious to know whether she had ever displayed this genius on These thrice dear lips-forever, ever closed !' the real stage.' “ There are very few persons now living com-convinced us that Sydney Owenson never per
4.6. The result of much inquiry on the subject has petent to furnish any personal information on formed at any of tho Dublin theatres, but may this point. All we can do is to collect a few have appeared, when a mere child, in connection waifs and strays, and let the reader draw his own with some of her father's professional tours conclusion. An octogenarian player, Mr. W. A. Donaldson, in his recently published "Fifty through the western counties of Ireland. OwenYcars of an Actor's Life,' tells us, “Lady Mor- son always flung himself into theatricals with gan is the oldest writer in Great Britain. This hearty raciness and abandon ; but the more he highly gifted woman began her career in the saw of stage lifo, its temptations, dangers, and dramatic world. Her father was the manager of anxieties, the stronger greiv his disinclination to several theatres in Ireland, where she sustained see any near and dear relative of bis treading characters suited to her juvenile years, with con.
the boards.'» siderable ability ; but when her father ccased The trifling evidence here adduced is still
sufficient to satisfy the mind as to the fact. * Lady Diorgan : her Career, Literary and Personal, with a glimpse of her Friends, and a Word Indeed, the only evidence against it-and it to her Calumniators. By William John Fitzpat- is not worthy of the name of evidence-is rick, J. P. Charles J. Skeet.
the impression of Lady Morgan's nieces that
she at no period appeared on the stage-an crisis, and it would also appear, from a note impression which they would be very likely appended at the conclusion of the work be. to foster.
fore us, that Sydney Owenson went out as Sydney lost her mother in early life; but governess at or about this period, when neher father was extremely vigilant, and on one cessity—that great parent of exertion-inoccasion threatened to pitch some young en- duced by her father's misfortune, also first signs, who thought they might while away brought her into notice as the authoress of a their heavy leisure moments in a flirtation little volume of poems, "juvenile and otheror two, out of the window. We learn else- wise.”. Croker's assaults also first began at where that –
this, the very dawn of her literary career; “The Connaught gentry paid Owenson such and one benefit resulted from these attacks, attention that he came to Dublin for littlo Syd- that they aided her reception in high quarnoy, and brought her down to Sligo. The fam- ters, nor did they in any way dim the genius ily of Sir Malby Crofton of Colloony, the Ev- of her who was at the same time preparing erards, the Barclays, the Coopers, Phibbses, her “Wild Irish Girl” for the press. Booths, Ormsbys, and Norcots, showed the These youthful steps of progress were folskall girl much kindness and attention.
lowed by her marriage with Surgeon Mor“ The legitimate drama having failed to take, poor Owenson endeavored to fill his theatre by gan; and the manner in which she got her personating some very loudly comic characters. intended knighted, and thus obtained for
I remember,' observes an old Sligo lady, 'cn- herself the title of Sydney Lady Morgan, is joying his representation of the Killibegs Hay- very characteristic :maker, with suggauns (or straw ropes) round
“We now approach the most important pebis hat, waist, and legs, his coat in tatters, and riod in the domestic life of Miss Owenson. Mr. straws sticking out of his brougues. I laughed T. C. Morgan was a surgeon and general medheartily at him, as did his two daughters,
who ical practitioner in an English provincial town. were in the pit with, I think, an uncle of the The late Marquis of Abercorn, in passing through present Sir Robert Goro Booth of Lisadilo, and it, en route for Tyrono, from his Scottish scat indeed I thought I would be ashamed if my Dudingtone House, Edinburgh, met with an ac, father were so dressed, but they enjoyed it cident which threatened dangerous results, and greatly. I knew Miss Sydney Owenson well : Surgeon Morgan was sent for. The doctor was she was a gay, vivacious, smart young woman; promptly in attendance, and for more than a I remember her dining and spending the evening at Mr. Feeney's, å merchant
of Sligo ; she week he remained night and day beside the came in the full-dressed fashion of that day'; she noble patient's couch. Under the skilful treat
ment of Mr. Morgan, the marquis at length bedanced gracefully. Being called on for a song, came rapidly convalescent. Hs felt sincerely all our expectations were that we should hear grateful to the young physician for his assiduous some new French or Italian air, but, to our sur, and efficient attention, and invited him on a prise, she took hier sweet small harp, and played visit to his Irish seat at Baron's Court, County up the air and sang the song, "Oh, whistle and I of Tyrone, where the marchioness was about to will be with you, my lad.' Mr. Owenson was a very good comic actor. I remember having invitation was accepted. Annc, Marchioness of
organize some splendid fêtes champêtres. The seen the same play acted afterwards in Dublin, Abercorn, had a select circle of guests on a visit but not so well as Mr. Owenson did it at Sligo. at the house, and amongst the number Miss Miss Owenson spent a great deal of her time at
Owenson. Mr. Morgan was a widower, but the seat of Sir Malby Crofton. She often passed me on the road, riding a nice pony. I more literary and romantic and juvenilo'than thought that she did not sit so straight in her the gencrality of widowers : a congeniality of saddle as the ladies who accompanied her.'
taste brought him and the young authoress into "Another octogenarian of Sligo writes : "I fre- frequent conversation. Timo passed swiftly and quently went to Owenson's theatre in Water- gayly; but in the midst of this festivity and
frolic a letter arrived, announcing the dangerlane, Knox's Street. I remember his daughters in the pit with Mr. Harloe Phibbs, who attracted his daughter Sydney to Dublin. With weeping
ous illness of Robert Owenson, and summoning general observation, as a report was at that Owenson. There were no boxes in Sligo The adieu. Owenson mado a short rally, and surtime rife that he was courting Miss Sydney eyes and an aching heart—but not on Morgan
account-she bade the young widower a hurried atre then. Harloo Phibbs was the son of old
Surgeon Morgan, in Bloomer Phibbs, who went by the namo of the mean timo, with a smitten hicart followed
vived until May, 1812. “Smooth Acres." The fashionablo improvi- Miss Sydney Owenson to Dublin, and perse, dence of the day led to these acres being encum-cuted her with declarations of the love which bered and sold. I remember, on the particular filled him to distraction. night in question, that Owenson's part was Pan, Richmond invited the authoress and Mr. Mor
Tho popular Duke of dressed up in goat-skins, a very amusing char
gan to one of the private balls at the Viceregal
Court. His excellency, in the coursc of a loung. The invasion of the French and the cap- ing conversation with Miss Owenson, playfully ture of Castlebar appear to have brought alluded to the matrimonial report which had bcOwenson's histrionic embarrassments to al gun to be bruited about, and cxpressed a hopo
to have the pleasure, at no distant day, of con- subaltern scribes were ready to take it up, gratulating her on her marriage. * The rumor and to make a point of attacking indiscrimrespecting Mr. Morgan's dévouement,' she re- inately whatever Lady Morgan did. Had plied, 'may or may not be true; but this I can she lived in our own time it would have been at least with all candor and sincerity assure your a different thing: she would have had her grace, that I shall remain to the last day of my opposition ”--that, with her politics and life in single blessedness, unless some more tempting inducement than the mere change from idiosyncrasies, would have been unavoidable Miss Owenson to Mistress Morgan be offered - but she would have had a clear stage and me.' The hint was taken, and °Charles, Duke fair play.
ce of Richmond, in virtue of the powers of his of- It is gratifying to find this extraordinary fice, knighted Surgeon Morgan on the spot.”
woman's life told in so brief, agreeable,
straightforward, and honest-a manner. If A visit to the continent followed upon her we were to say that none but an Irishman marriage. The object of this journey was to could have done justice to such a subject, we pick up materials for the work on France, should only say what we believe; the same which her biographer considers as her chef- amount of research, and even the same d'ouvre. The publication of this book amount of sympathy, might have been found aroused the bitter ire of the Quarterly, and on this side of the channel, but the hearty caused her to be pursued by all the venom Celtic raciness and local color, never. Inof " shoals of slanderers and snakes in the deed, if we were to say, with an Irish con
servative paper, that there is but one man Lady Morgan was, however, quite capable in the United Kingdom who could have proof fighting her own battles, and she has a duced this book, we should, perhaps, be still most efficient and zealous protector of her nearer the mark. The spirit of inquiry which fair fame in Mr. Fitzpatrick. Irish by birth, exhausts every source of information, the sceptic by education, and democratic by in- perseverance and tact, and the genial warmth, spiration, she lived half a century before her are characteristics only of the author of the time. The literary organ of government " Life and Times of Lord Cloncurry," and could at that epoch give the signal, and fifty of the “Note on the Cornwallis Papers.”
On Saturday the matrimonial union of Prince old friends once more together, they couragePeter of Arenberg with the Countess Dowager ously resolved to carry out their original intenCaroline of Stahremberg, née Countess Kaunitz, tion and get married. Hence the ceremony of was celebrated with great pomp at the cathedral Saturday last in the noble temple of St. Peters, of St. Stephen's, Vienna, in the presence of the at Vienna.-Berlin Correspondence of the Court whole beau monde of the Austrian metropolis. News. The story of this marriage is a not uninteresting
Prince Peter is no less than screnty years MAHOMEDAN FUNERALS. The funerals are. old, and his new consort, the celebrated Count conducted with littlo or no ceremony. The Kaunitz's daughter, is sixty-one. In carly youth body, placed upon a bier, and covered with a both loved each other tenderly, and would have common cloth if that of a poor person, with got married but for the opposing wish of their white cashmere among the rich, and with a green respective parents. It is an old, a very old story cashmere if belonging to the family of a chicriff, this kind of tale, and it is quito unnecessary, con- is thus borno to iho ccmctcry, the followers resequently, to dwell on details in this particular peating all the way in a slow, measured tone case, as all cases of the sort resemble cach other, the words, “ Allah! Allah! Allah!” Thicre like leaves on the same tree. Suffice it to say are no undertakers here for the arrangement of that Princo Peter of Arenberg had to lead a funeral processions, that duty being performed daughter of Prince Charles de Talleyrand to by the relatives and servants of the deceased. the altar, and that the young Countess of Kaunitz
. It is customary for any person meeting a funeral was united to a graf, or carl, of Stahremberg: procession to divcrgo from his course and take Years flowed on; both the former lovers came hold of a corner of the bier, walking with it anto have children of their own; both, probably, til another passer-by takes his place the Mushad cares of their own, and thus their lives rolled sulman usage exacting that cach person must on as most human lives do- a mixture of joys lend his services in this way for at least ten and sorrows, pleasures and pains. But, singu- paces. I have many a time dismounted on thus larly enough, both the husband of Carolino of meeting a funeral cortege to take my place in it Kaunitz and the wife of Peter of Arenberg died according to this custom.--Mysteries of the Desat the same time, and accident throwinġ the two lert.
}From The Dublin University Magazine. Suddenly, the morose look of the man FOUND AT SEA.
when first we met upon the shore, and the SHORTLY after the loss of the steamer, recklessness of his manner when speaking Argus, on the Mull of Cantire, it became my of the probable risk of the voyage, occurred duty to cross the channel which divides the to me. He must be insane. The peril of island of Rathlin from the coast of Antrim. our situation had called forth a paroxysm of si The storm, which had previously detained his malady. In such a craft, and place, I me, had scarcely subsided ; the waves still was at his mercy. I could not doubt that rolled heavily in upon the wild iron shore, any attempt to control him by force would and the broken waters still leaped and flashed inevitably overset the boat. It occurred to along the many perilous tideways. Had it me, however, that he might be soothed by been possible, I would gladly have deferred kind words. So I cried out, "Oh, never my return to the island ; but there was no mind Ghea, like a good fellow, I'll take you alternative, urgent reasons compelled me, at there to-morrow, if you'll be quiet till we get least to attempt the passage.
ashore.” Sn. The spot I selected from which to sail, was If you have ever been confronted by a then, and is probably still, a remote fishing madman, you may perhaps fancy-what I place, surrounded with rugged cliffs, and never can remember without horror-the protected from the full strokes of the north- fearful sight of that wretch as he turned ern ocean by some scattered islets and rocks, upon me. His blood-shot cyes glared with perpetually streaming with white foam.
savage rage. His gray, shaggy hair stragAnxious to avail myself of a temporay gling over his convulsed features, and his calm, I pressed a strange-looking fisherman hands tossed in horrible despair, as he cried to undertake the voyage. At my suggestion, “I ken it a'; I ken it a'. Strange man! ye he engaged a boy to assist in managing the came to drag me to the doom, for yon bloody sails, and, as the evening began to close, we work. But I'll never fa’ into the hands o stepped the mast and bore out to sea. At man's justice. I'll dee noo, and ye shall first there was considerable risk amongst the sink alang wi' me. Dee a', a' tagither." broken waves and currents rushing through Another instant and he would have fuland over the rocks surrounding the port; filled his threat. Leaping upon the gunwale but, presently the open sea lay before us, he seized the mast, and with fearful cries and the full, steady swell of the canvas held endeavored to capsize the boat. It was an fair and straight for the opposite bay of the awful moment; hanging over the dark holisland. Nevertheless, the sea continued la- lows of the sea, or horribly tottering upon boring under us with deep, convulsive waves, the verge of the white hissing wave. even to my experienced eyes, strangely abrupt ommended myself to God, and believed I and dark, considering the light stil in the should never rise a living man from out the skies, and the comparative tranquillity of the depth of the enormous wave just past. wind. As the boat flew on into the full cur- The madman repeated his wild efforts ; rent of the ebb tide, coming down the chan- our fate was certain. When – suddenly nel, this agitation became more singular and there occurred one of those events which, alarming, and I began to consider myself however true, are scarcely credible. justified
in desisting from the attempt, when Right before the boat, about half-way each sluggish and almost perpendicular mass down the side of the approaching wave, of water threatened to break upon us and there appeared the face and shoulders, as far overwhelm the boat.
as the bosom, of a beautiful woman; one But a few minutes, and my intentions and arm clasped across her breast bore the form plans received a startling interruption. and drapery of an infant, the other was
I turned to consult the fisherman as to the stretched forth white and beautiful as if to weather, and our safest course. To my sur- guard the infant from danger ; while her prise, he had removed from the place he first large, humid eyes seemed pleading with whatoccupied on the afterthwart, and was stand- ever form of peril was about to destroy them. ing beside the mast to the leeward. I called Her long, yellow hair lay half floating, half him twice, as loudly as I was able, but he mingled with the crest of the wave, and her did not answer. He seemed to have fixed white garments partly clung closely to her his eyes upon a distant island, seldom seen person, partly drifted behind. The poor from the Irish coast, but which our position fisher boy, who had sat terrified during the had made visible. The man seemed fasci- struggles of the lunatic, now cast himself nated as by a spell. When the boat mounted headlong into the bottom of the boat, prayor sank with the wave, he strained and strug- ing and trembling. As for myself, I also gled to keep the island in sight, and followed felt utterly unable to speak or act under the it till the last possible instant.
strange and sudden shock, and immediately