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Tous las autras exemplaires originaux sont filmte an commandant par la premiere pege qui comporte une empreinte d'impression ou d'illustration et en terminent par la darnlAre page qui comporte une telle empreinte. Un des symboles suivsnts apparaitra sur la derniire image de cheque microfiche, selon le CBs: le symbols — ^ signifie "A SUIVRE ". le symbols V signifie "FIN". Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc.. peuvent Atre fiimAs A des taux de reduction diffArents. Lorsque le document est trop grand pour Atre reproduit en un seul ciichA. il est film* * partir de Tangle supArieur geuche, de geuche A droite. et de haut en bes, en prenant le nombre d'images nAcessaire. Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la mAthoda. 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 LEAVING HOMB. " IIo turned and gazod upon the dear scenea of Iiis childhood." rage 26. French Exiles OF LOUISIANA. BY J. T. LINDSAY, Author of "Log Cabin Days of Illinois," Etc. NEW YORK: W. B. SMITH, & CO., Bond Street. Copyright, i88i, Ihr W. B. Smith & Co., New York ALL RIGHTS RESERVEIX ■m f- • t*' ■.* f • TO Every Friend of Liberty, TO EVERY FRIEND OF HUMANITY, TO EVERY HEART WHO HAIH COMPASSION FOR THE SORROWS AND MISFORTUNES OF MANKIND^ TO EVERY ONE WHO HATH CHARITY FOR OTHERS, TIU8 BOOK IS MOST RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED BY THE AUTHOR. PRi .' ■ r^ M.VV. History Dept. 54402 ILLUSTRATIONS. Leaving Home (In the Alps), The Execution (View of Leghorn, Italy), . Uncle Louis Reading Paul's Letter, . The Insane Count's Return. " • • • Achilles Murat makes Himself Known in Louisiana, 6 Taoe. 2 123 191 213 229 t. CONTENTS. ri . Treface, . T. Paul Lorraine, II. Gune, I. Marengo, II. Dcsuix, BOOK I. BOOK II. BOOK III. Page. 9 I. Italy, .... II. The Insane Count, III. Lady Verono, IV. The Flower Girl, BOOK IV. I. Paul and Annetta, II. Prussia joins the Kings, I. Jena, IJOOK V. • • • BOOK VI. VILANI PALACE. I. A merciful King, .... II. Count Vilani, • . . . , s BOOK VII. I. Iphi Betrayed, ..... II. Louis Dejon, ..... III. The Siren and Victim, .... IV. The Voice from behind the Tapestry, . V. Midnight Hour, ..... VI. The Two Sacks of Gold, VII. Geno Makes Joseph promise to return the Gold, > , . BOOK VIIL . MUTINY. . I. " I Knew not what I did,' II. The Arrest, : 'i 30 35 39 42 44 47 S3 57 ^ (7) 60 64 69 78 80 88 90 96 99 103 . 106 . 108 HI 8 CONTENTS. - Page. III. Gcno, . . . . , . Ill IV. Murat, King of Naples, . . . IIS V. The Sentence, . . . , . 117 VI. Farewell, .... . 119 VII. The Execution, . BOOK IX. . 122 9 I. Tribunal of Justice, . . . 126 II. The I3ecgar, . . . -, . 129 III. A Blessing, . . . . . 130 IV. Ambition's Triumph, . . i . 134 V. Alonzo, . . . . ' « . 140 I. I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. vm. I. II. III. IV. I. II. III. IV. I. II. I. BOOK X. LOUISIANA. Captairv Ethan Allen Smith, BOOK XI. The Sacks of Gold, ^ Alonzo on Trial for the Murder of Francisco Vilani, I told Vou So, ..... The Insane Count again. Where the Gold came from. Remorse, ...... The Good Angel, .... Francisco and Calvetti, .... BOOK XII. Murat, . . ... Sad Memories, ..... Paul's Letter to Uncle Louis, . Religion and Government, BOOK xin. The Exiles, ..... Louisiana, ... . " By Jingo — Let'" ^ake a Drink," Francisco, ... BOOK XIV. The Flower Girl again, , . Captain Ethan Smith, .... BOOK XV. THE STRANGER. «• Tis Strange, Because 'tis True," 144 169 171 174 179 181 184 184 186 193 199 200 205 207 212 220 231 >. i PREFACE. Tynnny doth justice spurn. Transforms a vase into an urn ; Thanks, thatlrom. the blood of hero ilain, Liberty springs to life again. TuK People vs. The King. The Duke of Wellington cost England, in the shape of pay, pen- sions, etc., the sum of fourteen millions of dollars. The parliamentary returns of March 23, 1847, give the annual direct cost of royalty in England, the enormous sum of three millions eight hundred and forty- five thousand eight hundred and twenty-flve dollars. The whole landed estate of England is in the hands o^ thirty thousand proprie- tors; Scotland, three thousand; Ireland, about six thousand. The lands belong to the aristocratic class, and are nearly exempt from taxation. In the report of 1847, the whole amount of land tax in Great Britain, was the sum of five millions nine hundred and fifteen thousand dollars, while the merchants, farmers, and the industrial classes, of every description, paid the sum of two htmdred and forty- seven millions one hundred and sixty thousand dollars. In the above sum of money that is required to support royalty, there is an item of over one million of dollars for the private purse of the Queen. A verse from the national song of England : God save the king! Send him victorious. Soon to reign over us ; - God save the king 1 There are two chapters in the history of England that present two pictures. The one is full of joy, the other sorrow. The one relates that on the 19th of October, A. D., 1781, Lord Comwallis, comman- der of the King's army, now engaged in suppressing the rebellion in xo PREFACE. his majesty's American colonies, was compelled, by unavoidable acci- dents, to surrender the army to a certain rebel, called George Wash- ington, assisted in his disgraceful disloyalty to his King, by a certain Frenchman, called Lafayette. That was glad tidings to man ; that was the birth-day of the grandest Republic ever established for man- kind. What a priceless inheritance Is here transmitted to us, and in our keeping for posterity. Let the toiling millions of our beloved land remember, that it is far easier to lose liberty than to win it back from the clutches of despotism, by revolution. The other chapter is mournful. Napoleon, trusting to the generos- ity of the British nation, placed himself on an English vessel. On his arrival, he asKed of the prince regent the privilege of residing in England, under the protection of their laws. He was not even al- lowed to land, or to have any communication with the people on shore, but was banished, imprisoned on a small rocky island, far away in the South Atlantic ocean. In the year 1847, the land tax of France was one hundred and six- teen millions of dollars, against five millions in England, the same year. The industrial class of England paid a tax that year amount- ing to the sum of two hundred and forty-seven millions of dollars. While the industry of France paid only eighty-seven millions. A verse from the French national anthem : "Oh Liberty, can man resign thee — Once having felt thy generous flame ? Can dungeons, locks, and bars confine theSi Or whip thy noble spirit tame ? Too long the world has wept, iiewailing That Falsehood's dagger tyrants wield, But Freedom is our sword and shield. And all their arts are unavailing. To arms I To arms ! Ye brave. Th' avenging sword unsheath. March on, march on, all hearts resolved On liberty or death." May, A. D., 1800. It was in a high degree fitting that Napoleon should have inaugurated his grand triumph in the cause of peace, liberty and self-government in the very dawn of the nineteenth cen- tury. A century that up to 1879, ^^ been marked by so many glori- ous achievements in civilization — crowned with many victories of >'' n'^(B^^^' M . nUiFACE. II peace — marked improvement in all the branches of useful industry, laws, and government. The area of free thought and free speech has been vastly enlarged, with the almost universal recognition of the right of self-government in man. The poet has given us new songs, filled with pathos, beauty, .ind grandeur. The architect, sculpto/, and painter, have all given a new splendor even to their renascent work from the old masters of antiquity. The crowned hcids of England and Austria, with their nobles, and that unseen but omnipotent power behind the throne, well named the " almighty doU.ir," united together in a cruel, unjust, and unholy alii- ance, to crush out of France this glorious love of liberty and self- government. In justice it should be said that the noble industrial classes of bcu' demands the blood of their sons to main- tain the Ihrice-accurscd doctrine that God has appointed the kiiij,, to rule and rob. Kngland said to the American colonies, "accept a king." Patriotic hearts answered, — •' The Star-Spangled banner, long may it wave, ' O'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave." Kngland and Austria said to France : " accept a Bourbon king ; " and patriotic hearts answered: "To arms, to arms, ye brave; the avenging sword iinsheath." In March, 1S79, when writing these lines, a correspondent of the "New V'ork Herald " writes from Paris this, — "France has estab- lished a Republic. Paris is all ablaze with enthusiasm. Bands of Americans are parading the streets, singing the Star-Spangled Ban- ner, while bands of Frenchmen are singing the Marseillaise." It is grander by far to write the songs of a people, than to write their laws. The foundation of all governments are the producing classes, and commerce that distributes the products of industry, either of hand or brain, to places where they are wanted. It matters not whether des- potism springs from the royalty of kings, exacting almost countless 191 12 PREFACE. sums of money, to maintain its wanton .. xtravagance, or from the unjust exactions of a concentrated money power, it falls with crush- ing weight upon the shoulders of industry. The well-to-do portion of the government foundation can endure for some time, but the poorer classes of labor are soon driven to despair. Then there is in the very, vitals of the nation a smothered and concealed volcano; a spark is communicated, then follows wide- spread ruin and desolation. The despair that is produced by the pangs of starvation knows nj law. In the spring of 1792 some French soldiers, who had determined to strike for liberty, said this to one another, " We love France ; we wiH die for her ; but where is the inspired one who can put our enthu- siasm in glowing words to move the soul ? " Little did they think that in their very midst was the inspired one who would write the song that would make his name immortal on earth. Roget de Lisle, a soldier in the ranks, went to his chamber, and there alone in the solitary midnight hour, sang to himself the grand Marseillaise hymn, that moved the heart of every man that loved human liberty with inspiration. Across the sea in our own land it was answered with joy by our own inspired song of the " Star-Span- gled Banner." Six hundred brave men, half fed, half clothed, half armed, in the revolution of '92, started from Marseilles and marched to Paris, singing the grand hymn, confronted the armed legions of despotism, acceptetl a glorious death in the cause of liberty with De Lisle's song upon their lips. There are times when despotism drives the friends of liberty to despair, and the infernal is invoked. Jlobespierre was the most mysterious character in French history. The most of his life was spent in eloquent, stirring appeals in favor of the mercit'ul abolishment of the death penalty for all offences or crimes. It is said, his writings and speeches were so brilliant and powerful, that ihey gave him great prominence. What a ghastly ending for such an exalted beginning. When in power, he caused the guillo- tine to run a stream of blood. The innocent perished with the guilty. Friends perished with foe ; decrepit old age and tender infancy died together. To be suspected by the monster was to die. A peasant girl was heard humming a song in praise of the Queen, and Wv;.5 put to death. m till -^ / PREFACE, 13 The National Convention closed its blood-stained career forever. The reign of terror was ended. If France has shown great virtues, she has also been the theatre of great crimes. Her kings had been cruel to the children of the people. The people turned and put to death the children of the kings. In the name of liberty the Conven- tion had committed countless crimes, clothed in the garb of virtue ; the guillotine was the shrine of their idolatry. While the ensign of man's equality was unfurled in the halls of the Convention, the guillotine was behind the splendid image of liberty, where stood the executioner with axe in hand to put to death alike the guilty or inno- cent victims of his master. These scenes were too terrible . to last. Mercy could no longer endure the sight of the tears of pleading innocence. The cry of anguish that went up from the stricken people was heard by the Infinite, and Robespierre, the grand central figure of this ghastly picture, fell a victim to the wrath of the fiend he had evoked. The National Convention had passed out of existence, the Council and Directory appeared in their stead, and in the horizon appeared the man of destiny standing at the portals of the nineteenth century with the avenging sword. The twilight of the eighteenth century laid Robespierre in the grave. . The dawn of the nineteenth said to the grand captain ol self-government, come. The close of the last century placed Robespierre on the guillotine. The beginning of the present placed Napoleon at the foot of the Alps with sixty thousand brave men to strike for peace and liberty, for their beloved France. Napoleon. The Council and Directory, now in power, organized three grand divisions of the army. The division that was to cross the Alps and conquer Italy was placed under the command of Napoleon. But recently the author was reading a description of Julius Caesar. When he sought dominion he believed that he was led by destiny. He left behind him an exact account of his battles from day to day. These commentaries form a large fund of authentic history, and are uni- versally admired for their elegance of style. He was courageous, self-possessed, clement, and generous. Although he was slender and delicate in make, he was able to make long marches, seldom stopped for repose — sleeping on the way in a litter or chariot. As a general he was equal to the greatest commander the world ever produced ; I iiii :i4 PI^EFACE, indeed there was iid one that could hardly be compared to him, ex- cept, perhaps, Hannibal. As an orator he was second alone to Cicero. In his personal appearance he was commanding, with an open countenance, fair complexion, line dark eyes, and said to be the hanilsonicst man in Rome. I was forcibly impressed with the re- semblance this picture bears to Napoleon. He believed that he was in tlie hands nf destiny. His writings, his letters and orders, were universally aihnircd for their brevity and force, also for their elegance of style. He was courageous, self-jiosscssed, clement, and generous. He was slender in make, and never stopped in his marches for re- pose, sleeping on the way in his carriage. Indeed, I think it was said of him that he could sleep while sitting on his horse, and could sleep at any time He desired. As a general he has no equal in niotkrn history ; as an orator no man could utter great truths and s]ilendid thouglits with more force and clo(|uencc than Najioleon. In his [lersonal apjieavance lie was commanding, with an open coun- tenance, fair complexion, line large dark eyes, and was exceedingly handsome. There was this difference. Napoleon had a much grander field of action than Caesar ; his triumphs were by far more brilliant, and had a much greater effect on the destiny of man. He laid the foundation of a freedom of thought and speech that is des- tined, in the course of time, to redeem ;U1 Europe from despotism. ( )iie of the fust acts of The Council of !• ranee, when placed in leg- islative power, was to projjose |)eace with England and Austria, or otherwise to let France have peace, and the divine right of the l)eo])lc to establish for themselves a republican government. They refused to comply with this just demand. What untold, unnum- bered blessings of peace, happiness, and prosperity would have been brought to the working classes of these three nations if this demand had been grant eil ! At the close of the Napoleonic war, England had her people burthened with a tax of over four thousand millions of dollars, anil millions of lives lost, the value of which can- not be measured by dollars and cents. For what? To make the workingmen of France accept a Bourbon for a king. Why did England and Austria want P'rance to endure the despotism of a king ? The answer is tl . France, under a republican government, with her great genius in all the departments of industry, would have been so prosperous, so hap[Ty, and the people so powerfid in the !li f I PREFAC'E. IS triumphs of peace and liberty, 'that every throne and crown in Europe' would be in danger from such a grand example of self-government. Thus it was that at the beginning of this century Englaiid and Aus- tria taxed their workingmen money, and demanded of them the blood of their sons, to prevent the workingmen in France from enjoying the fruits of their own labor and the blessings of peace and liberty. On the 6th day of May, 1800, an army of sixty thousand men were assembled at the foot of the Alps. They were to cross at three different points. Napoleon was with the main body of the army that crossed at the great St. Bernard. These soldiers were composed largely of Swiss and Alpine French mountaineers. Paul Lorraine was an adept in climbing the mountain cliffs ; it was a part of his early education, — -indeed, it was so with two-'hirds of the entire force, — and hence the perfect success of this wonderful march, that astonished the civilized world with its brilliant intrepidity. The Austrians, hearing for the first time of the ambitious designs of Napoleon to cross the Alps, treated it with scorn and contcmjit. The Swiss, the mountain French, and the highland Scotch are alike remarkable ioi their love of home and their love of liberty. They seem to love their homes for their dangers. Their hard struggles with a sterile soil gives them health, courage, and manhood. They breathe the free, pure air of the mountain cliffs, and look with dis- dain on those who dwell on the lowlands, as minions of arbitrary power and despotism. The terrors of the glacier and avalanche to them is enchantment. Go where they will, and their memory clings fondly to these mountain homes. The Highlander rushed proudly to the call of his chieftain to die in defence of the barren rocks. The Swiss in distant lands, in memory hears the melody of the Alpine horn, and the tears unbidden flow. Such an army with such a com- mander, and battling for such a cause was sure to triumph. You would say to one of these soldiers, "Can you cross the Alps with those heavy guns, carriages, food, and ammunition .•• It is not possible ! " He would say, " Why, it is nothing. See, we can go single along the glaciers, and most of the time double and treble ; we will haul the guns on sleds, and pack the carriages on mules ; we can carry some provisions j we will cut our pathway with axes out of the ice. If there comes a storm, and loosens the avalanche, or starts the glacier,probably we sh^Il be lost" You would say again, x6 PREFACE. *' When you'get into Italy, you will meet the greatest anny in Europe, veteran troops that have ever been victorious." He would say, " True, but we have conquered nature and the Alps, and surely now we need not fear man." On the i6th of May the grand army broke forth with the strains of the Marseilles hymn, and the march commenced. Soon St. Pierre was reached and the road ended. Heroic band, march on, march on I You have with you the man chosen by destiny to vindicate the eternal principles of justice and liberty. The Alps, monarch of the mystic realm, seated above the Olympic Jove of ancient days. To mortal man on earth's lower plains, thy throne is placed among the stars. What earthly king can vie with thee, in lofty, peerless majesty. How vast thy power 1 the dark abyss thy dungeon and thy prison keep. Thy army the mighty glacier that grinds to powder the massive granite hills. The ava- lanche that with one fell sweep could send armed battalions to an icy grave. Let loose the winds, the tempest, and the mountain storms ; as well might man face the anger of Ooinipotence. Mystic spirit of the mountain, around thy throne appears thy vast empire I Ancient Rome still sitting on her hills — the throne of Caesar van- ished. Sons of Rome siUl dwell amidst her vine-clad hills and fertile valleys, and her opulent cities, proud of ancient fame and historic memories. There is Greece, still mourning over fallen Athens and the tomb of Demosthenes. Far away in the distance rolls the waves of the classic sea that has borne on her bosom the commerce of forty centuries. There is the vast empire of the Czar, still waiting for the sick man's death, to grasp his Crescent crown. Here is dismembered Poland, still mourning for her exiled sons, and decking with flowers the tombs of her heroic dead. There the German, who in olden times crushed the grandest empire of antiq- uity. Yonder the islands of the proud Briton, mistress of the seas, forging chains for France. Here is chivalrous Spain ; she who dis- covered a new world ; and the land of the renowned Cid, the formi- dable foe of the powerful Moor. There is France pleading for peace and liberty. Cruelly she has been betrayed into the hands of her enemies. In olden times, when history commenced. Omnipotence rolled back the waves of the sea, and the children of Israel passed out of the land oi bondage into the land of promise. The monarch PREFACE. 17 of the mystic realm stayed the glacier, fastened the avalanche, bridged the abyss, silenced the storm ; and the Man of Destiny passed unharmed in this march of triumph in the cause of liberty. It is not strange that Napoleon, like unto Caesar, believed in destiny. That his fate was in the hands of some unseen, mysteriousi power he could neither control or resist French Exiles of Louisiana. BOOK I I. Paul Lorraine. - \. " . In Provence, France, on the road from Digne to Brian- 9on, well up towards the mountains, there is a little valley that has been occupied by a few families in succession, for generation after generation, for centuries. This remote and sequestered spot the traveller would name the Vale of Peace. Yet ^var had reached out its arm and grasped vic<^ims for carnage. - - ' ^ Jarvis Lorraine, an old resident, had fallen, while in the army of the Convention, at the siege of Toulon. Widow Lorraine is now dwolling with her son in that humble cottage by the road-side. It is flanked by a gentle, sloping hill, covered with a flourishing vineyard. The sun sets behind this hill, and there the first shadows of evening fall. The vines rejoice however, in the first beams of morning light, then they have the noonday sun. This is a good arrangement, as the culture of the vine requires above all things the sunlight, and plenty of fresh air to breathe. This keeps from the vineyard that terrible scourge, the black rot, and to a great extent the ravages of that parasite, the moth. 19 ^ « ! Ill 20 EXILES OF LOUISIANA. The cottage was covered with creepers and vines. Across the way was a small pasture field, where some cows, pigs, and sheep, were feeding on the rich pasture. Everything about this humble abode had the appearance of neatness and industry. Mother Lorraine, as she was called, lived here with her son Paul, in apparent peace and contentment. The in- habitants of the valley, called her "mother" from the promptings of genuine affection. This humble woman in lowly life, had an abiding faith in the goodness of the Infinite, and that in the end all would be well. The atheist, perched upon his intellectual throne, proud of his genius, and power to give even vice the appearance of virtue, would scoff at this faith — call it credulity, ignorance, superstition. Yet it cheered this poor woman in the hours of her greatest bereavement. To the most of those who may not trust in divine revela- tion, it is a mystery they cannot altogether grasp or com- prehend. It found expression alike in the last hours of the great Webster, and the dying slave, when, afar off among the stars, he saw with faith a land of promise, where there was neither tears or bondage. Not far from Mother Lorraine lived her brother-in-law Louis, enjoying about the same advantages in this world's goods as his brother's widow, with two sons to help him in the cares and labors of his p/ace. Across the road near the warbling mountain brook, that came down from the hill, was the home of Pierre Gerald and wife, with their daughter, Annetta. The top of the little cottage can just be seen over the spur of a sharp hill that springs out into the valley from thr; moun* tain. tiiii^' PAUL LORRAINE. ax This valley was the birthplace of Paul, and at the time he was drafted in the army of the Alps he was about nine- teen years of age. To have seen this peasant boy toiling in the vineyard, with his homespun blouse, you never would have dreamed that his life was to be one of such strange events. He was everybody's friend. The children of the valley looked upon him as a kind of divinity. A little child slipped from the top of a steep crag, lodged on the roots and limbs of a scraggy pine growing out from the side of the ledge. What was to be done ? The cliff was a perpendicular rock two hundred feet from its base to the place where the imperilled child was lodged. Paul was called for consultation. Paul was of light build, but strong, active, and muscular, noble hearted and full of courage. He says, the child must be saved. His mountain pick was in his hand. He passed up to the top of the hill where the child had fallen. Soon, and the anxious ones who had gathered there, — among the rest the mother of the child, — looking up at the heroic youth so prompt to save the life of her dear one, saw him strike his axe into the crevice of the rock, swing down on a lower ledge, pass along some distance from the object of the daring task. Again he returns on a lower shelf of the rock, and is now standing immediately beneath the child. Soon, and his mountain axe is fast- ened in the roots of the projecting tree ; he draws himself up, and the child is in the strong arms of the daring boy. There was one in that assembly of anxious lookers-on, that witnessed the event with as much joy as the mother of the child. It was Annetta. Paul was her idol. A smile of joy was on that sweet, pure face, so guileless and innocent. She said, " Fear not for Paul, he is so good and brave, surely no harm can come to him." A rope was •fl EXILES OF LOUISIANA, 1! passed down to Paul, fastened around his waist, he threw his axe from him and was hauled up to the summit ot the hill. The child was soon in the mother's arms. Heroic boy ! How blessed for this world, were it filled with such hearts as thine ! At another time a horse ran away with a little boy, and was dashing furiously down the slope of the hill on the road. At the foot of the hill the road made a sudden turn to avoid a deep ravine. There was some little barrier to prevent accidents, but this little fellow was unable to control the horse so as to make the turn and avoid the precipice. Paul chanced to be near this bend in the road. He saw the terrible danger that threatened the life of the boy. He planted himself in front of the dashing animal, not far from the precipice. It appeared that the fright- ened brute was unable himself to chanf,e his headlong course from a direct one. It looked as if the horse would pass over Paul and trample him to pieces. When he came very near, Paul gave him a little berth, seized the boy, dragged him from his back, and the poor brute -plunged over the railing and was dashed to pieces on the rocks below. Very many such events as this in the youth- ful days of this young hero gave him an enviable reputa- tion for courage and intrei^idity far beyond his companions and associates. Paul and Annelta had grown up together here, in the purity, love, and happiness of Eden. They say history repeats itself ; doubtless the sad story of Eden has been oft repeated. Peace, happiness, and contentment, destroyed by the wily serpent, bearing with it the knowledge of vain, idle pleasures, their allurements that lead to ruin and sorrow. It must have been such lives as Paul and PAUL LORRAINE. if Annetta's that proved to the mind of the great writer on the law of evidence, Greenleaf, that the doctrine of absolute depravity, or natural depravit>', was not to his mind proven. He says that a child tells the truth naturally, and is taught to lie ; that tmth is natural, lying artificial. The truth is easily told, and it is very hard to coin a falsehood that will pass current. These children of nature grew together in virtuous simplicity, never dreaming that the wide world was full of crime, sorrow, and deceit ; there was nothing in their thoughts they desired to conceal. They spoke to one another in the simple language of nature and truth. They worked together in the vineyard, and in the fields, dressed the vines, destroyed the weeds, and the para- sites, worked among the flowers and vegetables, among the fruit-trees. Paul was an adept in pruning fruit-trees and grafting, and all the arts necessary to secure a good return for labor. They worked alternately on the Lorraine place and on the Gerald place. Annetta would have made a sorry figure in the gay, fashionable life of Paris. Yet, her heart, her mind, and that sweet smile that beamed forth from her kind, quiet face, was full of grandeur. Paul would say to Annetta, " I love you as I love the flowers." "Why Paul?" " Because they are so beautiful, so pure, like the angels my dear mother talks about." Annetta would say, "I do love you so." - "Why, Annetta?" " " Because, Paul, you are so good, and brave, and kind." Oftentimes she would see Paul pass along the verge of the rocky cliff with the agility of a mountain chamois. H 1 • i I III: •4 EXILES OF LOUISIANA. She would say to herself, " I love him so, he is so brave." Then Paul's constant care and attention to the old people in the valley was so considerate and generous, that he was endeared to every one. As Paul grew older he became more thoughtful, and at times there was a sad tone to his voice — perhaps he was thinking of his father killed in battle at the siege of Toulon, or perhaps the day was near when he would be required to leave his dear mother, Annetta, and the children of the valley. Annetta would say to him, " If you go from us, you will surely come back to us, for you are so good and brave, no harm can come to you." " Yes, but Annetta, the good often suffer. Sometimes we hear of the brave being put to death unjustly, and I may be killed in battle." "Yes," Annetta replied to him, "the good do often suffer, but not long ; the good angels find them out and lead them forth into the sunlighi and happiness, and then courage will oftentimes save your life in battle." Paul was cheered with the words of this little philoso- pher, arguing in her simple way of .the power there was to protect him from evil, by using the armor of virtue and courage. He was thinking that when he was climbing the lofty hills, passing over the snow-clad glacier or the brow of the avalanche, that without firmness and courage he would have been oftentimes dashed into the abyss. "Annetta," he would say, "I may go into the army and fall in the battle-tield." " If you die in the battle, fighting for our dear France, how I would love your memory, Paul ; but I would not live long. I would not cry or mourn, but I would feel as if severed from earth, and, like the vine severed from its i ' PAUL LORRAINE, •I root, fade, wither, and perish. I would die and go to you, Paul ; for surely the good God would have you in his keeping." " But, Annetta, I would have you live and take care of our dear old parents and the children in the valley. But — well, well, Annetta, we will not talk of these sad events. I believe I will come back to you safe and well, and I will love you all the better, and together we will take good care of our parents and the little children, dress the vines, climb the hills, gather fruit, and take good care of our cows and sheep ; and in the twilight-hour sing our beauti- ful songs and be so happy." At night they would sit in the cottage door and gaze upon the stars, and wonder at their beauty and the cause of their creation. There was one star that they had se- lected for their future home. When at eve it sparkled in the west, it received their united love and adoration. Paul's educational advantages were limited, but, like his race, both ancient nd modem, his perceptions were quick. The .Lorraine family, many years before this period, had been success^d merchrnts of Marseilles. Misfortune, per- haps, drove this branch of the family into this remote place. There were some old Greek and Roman books translated into French, from which Paul had drawn a con- siderable fund of knowledge. All he knew of Napoleon was from hearsay, and Napoleon lost nothing, in stature or greatness, from the bright fancy of this French peasant. The hour that formed the turning point in the strange life of this interesting boy had been sounded. He was ordered to join Napoleon's aimy, congregated at the foot of the Alps, at the Great St. Bernard pass. He was pre- pared, for he expected it. He was clothed in the garb of * J?4 EXILES OF LOUISIANA, a Fiench soldier; was to leave his kind mother, Annetta, Uncle Louis, and the dear little children of the valley. His good mother felt sad over this parting. Sorrow for the death of Paul's father had left its bitter memory. Yet she bore up against these sorrows with that strong faith and assurance that God was good, and in the end would make all well. To her this faith was an impenetrable shield. Annetia was pale and tearless. Her faith was in her idol. She said this : " I know he is good and brave. Surely he will not be harmed by any one. Who could harm such a one } So kind to all." Annetta, Uncle Louis, and the children followed with Paul far on the way of his departure, and then gazed after him until a bend in the road carried him out of sight. It is the first act in his dramatic life. He turned and gazed upon the dear scenes of his cnildhood. How his heart did cling to the beloved spot, so full of sweet memories. His life had been happy there in his home, for it had been natural and truthful. To him it was a grand picture. On one side the Alps towered up in the sky in majesty and grandeur, its bosom veiled in the purest white, its summit with its pinnacles, walls, and battlements, with their deep purple shadows and golden lights from the rising sun. At its ba«c long lines of dark green forests at intervals ran out into the valley then swept high up to the foot of some tall, rocky cliff, again rolled off into distance and was lost to sight. There was the cottage home, the winding brook, still warbling along with its cheerful song, the little fields and vine-clad hills, the winding road to Brian^on, above all, the loving hearts in those humble abodes. The objects in this world that arc dear or pleasing to the eye, are vastly more precious to us when we are about to part with them PAUL LORRAINE. or lose them. Your dear friend is on his death-bed. How much dearer he is to you in the last hour. You forget his faults ; and his virtues are unfolded to your sight with ad- ditional spl -idor. Go where you will, brave boy, and the picture of yonder valley and the loved ones who dwell there will cling to your memory. The impression will be as vivid and as bright as if traced in line and ^coloring by the hand of the Infinite. Aniictta to him was a beautiful being of dream-land. His mother, who had been, in the long years gone by, the personification of loving kindness, rose up at parting a being possessing far more excellence than anything on earth. To him his good mother possessed something akin to divinity. When she parted v/ith him she laid her hand upon his head and said, — " Paul, my son, God will bless you for my sake." These words he believed. He believed that his mother was merely a link between him and the unseen world. The passing winds sighed to him a gentle, mournful farewell— he is .gone. The night followed the day. The landscape smiled. The mountain brook still warbled its song. The birds filled the valley with channing melody. The sun poured its golden light down upon the peaceful valley. All uncon- scious of the sad hearts, throbbing in these cottage homes — of the humble peasants. Si' I I'M !l •8 EXILES OF LOUISIANA, n. Paul's departure, was as if a shadow had fallen on this happy valley, and saddened every heart. Annetta came often to see Mother Lorraine, and comfort her in the hours of sorrow; and together, they talked fondly of the absent one so dear to them. Annetta loved to recall the many incidents that marked Paul's faithful, loving disposition. His lii'e was a part of her life, for they were like two beautiful, tender flowers, that had budded, and bloomed into fragrance and beauty on the same stem. The mother was doubtless resting on that promise that flashed upon the cross at Calvary. All the sorrows of this world could not make her for one moment waver in her sublime faith. (I have no reasoning to offer, no logic to bring forward, to prove that this faith was not well founded. I will not undertake to argue with the atheist or the infidel. If Divine Revelation is a failure, this myste- rious quality of the human heart is beyond our grasp and comprehension. All I can do is to record the fact that this woman's whole life was a mission of love, and self- denial.) Mother Lorraine sacredly preserved every thing that would bring to memory her son. In a little closet she had his wooden shoes, his home-spun blouse, and his hat, that he wore in his hours of toil — now cast off, to be exchanged for the dress of the soldier of France. How good would it be for this world if the rulers of kingdoms, and gov- ernments, would walk in the same paths of honor and rectitude, as foiowed by the feet that filled those wooden shoes. How grand would it be if the robes of state always Wfi ■) I PAUL LORRAINE. 29 covered a heart as full of love, charity, and mercy, as had throbbed under that faded blouse. Oh, that kings, mon- archs, and presidents, were as willing to give to honest toil, the fruits of industry, as he whp wore that hat, instead ^ kingly crown. <'^ I I s. 1 30 EXILES OF LOUISIANA. BOOK II. I. Marengo, Paul Lorraine was in the army of Napoleon. His training as a mountaineer rendered his service in the march across the Alps of great importance. There was no peculiar quality in the most humble soldier in the ranks that ever escaped the quick observation of Napoleon. Paul's agility and intrepidity in climbing the rocky cliffs, his ready use of the mountain pick, in cutting pathways in the glaciers, his sound, good judgment, in the choice of proper passages for footmen and mules, was soon a matter of observation, and he requested that Paul should keep near the guide who led the mule upon which he was seated, and direct him in his course, and make the pathway more secure. On one occasion Napoleon said to Paul, " What is your name? " He answered promptly, " Paul Lorraine." " Ah, it is a good name, and if my memory serves me rightly, belongs to Marseilles. Where are you from, my young friend ? " " From Provence, sire ; not far from Bri- an^on. My father's name was Jarvis Lorraine, sire, and fell in the seige of Toulon." Napoleon replied promptly, " Lorraine, and fell at Tou- on. Ah, then you have lost your best friend in behalf of France, and all that is left to you is your mother ? " "Yes, sire, that is a good deal left ; my mother is the kindest of MARENGO. 3^ women. She thinks that God requires her to make these sacrifices in favor of her countr)', that is so deeply injured and wronged by other nations; and she daily asks God to protect France and her defenders." " I know, brave youth, that you love your good mother ; have you no other friends ? " " Yes, sire ; my good Uncle Louis, and Annetta." " Ah, Annetta ; who is this Annetta ? " " Annetta Gerald, sire." " She is more than a friend to you, Paul, I am thinking ? " " Yes, sire, I love Annetta ; I love her for her virtues. She is kind and good to every one." This plain, candid admission of his love for Annetta, without the least desire to conceal the secret of his heart, and not the least show of false modesty, was very pleasing to Napoleon. " I need not ask you, Paul, if Annetta loves you } " " Yes, sire, she loves me well ; and at our parting she said I surely would come back to her, for no harm could come to the good and the brave ; and said I might fall in the battle-field, but if I fell in defence of France my memory would be very dear to her." " Paul, whenever you want a friend apply to me." Paul started off on some duty he had to perform ; and this tete-a-tete was closed. It had a very visible effect on Napoleon, and doubtless the conclusion in his mind was that France, possessing such mothers, daughters, and sons, would surely triumph over her enemies, and in the end achieve peace and liberty ; that surely the Infinite would hear the prayers of these earnest souls calling for help in the hour of their tribulation. The army is passing the hospital of the great St. Ber- : ;i |. } ■ I 32 EXILES OF LOUrSIANA. nard. The good monks, refresh long lines of soldiers as they pass, with bread, cheese, and wine. The hospital of St. Bernard is creditable to humanity. The g )od monks pass their days in this wild, wierd solitude, to minister unto suffering men, acts of mercy and charity. It is a grand picture in life's weary way. Good is it that there are men willing to dwell in this bleak, dreary, and desolate abode ; listen to the howling storm and the wintry winds ; go forth into the rushing tempest of ice and snow to save the dy- ing stranger, warm him into life, and say to him, thou hast paid us ; for charity pays him that gives, as well as him that receives. And there, too, the noble dog of St. Bernard, goes forth amid the pelting storm and rushing winds, at the midnight hour, amidst the terrible danger of rock, glacier, and avalanche, with unerring instinct, finds some poor human soul who is dying far away from the loved ones of home and kindred, takes him and bears him along through snow and ice, along the rocky bridge, past the abyss, places him in the hands of his kind master, and could he speak would say, " warm him into life. I found him perishing and in pi^.y I brought him to you to save." Thus this brute is trained to acts of kindness that would add grandeur to the noblest acts of man. Far back in my early schoolboy days, the recital of the deeds of self- denial, and the noble acts of these men of mercy and charity, and the faithful dog of St. Bernard formed a bright, beautiful picture in my heart of man's charity for man, that has clung to my memory bright and glowing through ill the long years of my life. The good monks blessed the soldier as he marched on with heart resolved on liberty or death. The soldier thanked the good monk and the Infinite blessed them both. >•- r MARENGO. 33 Paul Lorraine was still prompt and active in the dis- charge of duty. His superior skill In mountain life was pretty much recognized by all. Oftentimes he was sent forward as a pioneer to determine the most practical path- way. Most of his time was occupied in the immediate front of Napoleon, who seemed to rely strongly on the sound judgment of this youthful soldier in determining courses, and his ready skill in the use of the mountain pick in cutting pathways. The valley of Aosta is reached ; a long, narrow chasm, through which the river Aosta rushes with violent force barely leaving a pathway on the side for a horseman. Pre- cipitous cliffs hundreds of feet high, rose up on either side like lofty prison walls, defying mortal man to scale their giddy heights. All at once consternation and dismay was expressed on the face of the soldier. A lion was in the pathway. In the very centre of this narrow valley was a lofty pinnacle of rock inaccessible on the side the army was approaching. On the top of this rock was the fort of Bard, with cannon placed in position that commanded the valley, through which Napoleon's army was advancing. Was this the end of all this triumphant achievement in crossing the Alps with this army and its heavy munitions of war ? Napoleon saw the peril instantly, and passed lo the front. With great difficulty and danger he clambered on the side of the rugged rocks, concealing himself by the stunted trees and bushes, until he got above the fort, and could see down into it. He had a full view of the cannon in position and the men in the fort, ready to use them when the proper time came. He was looking for a position for his artillery to send a plunging shot into the fort, and dis- mantle it. This was among the impossibles. On a high * • It ; !!! I I , .III I . ! ■ ■ , t Mil 34 EXILES OF LOUISIANA. eminence, beyond the fort, there was plainly visible a road winding in the hills. If his army could only reach that road it was possible for him to pass, without the guns of the fort being able to interfere with his march. Napoleon returned and stated to Paul what he had seen on the distant hills, and asked him to find a pathway from this valley into the road. Paul promptly answered, " I can try, sire, and with your permission will undertake it." His mountain pick was in his hand. He crossed the rushing waters of the Aosta, with the aid of a rope in the hands of soldiers, passed along down the stream on the opposite side and came back on a projecting ledge, until he was far above the heads of the army in the valley, and gave them to un- derstand that the many shots that had been fired at him from the fort, had passed him unharmed. The brave boy dashed on up the cliff, until he stood on the very summit, and there he saw the road Napoleon had observed, and that descended to the village of Aosta, in Piedmont, and also back towards the hills, on the line of march which the army had been passing ; and thus, by returning he dis- covered a pathway, that they might in safety reach this road. He reported to Napoleon, and under cover of the night the army passed the fort, without the least injury. The Austrian commander of Fort Bard, reported that the army of Napoleon, had passed in the night, but with- out any artillery, as it was impossible for him to move his guns on a narrow pathway upon which a mule could scarce- ly walk. The army in Piedmont, the wonderful march is accomplished. It is truly said, that he who has justice with him is doubly armed. This army represented what is generally called in all countries the middle classes of France. They DESAIX. 35 are the vitality of all people, and are in sympathy with the lower classes, and protect them from the effects of despot- ism to a great extent. This class in France are people of a liigh degree of intelligence. They had seen from the experience of centuries, that the old governments of Europe, hereditary kings supported by an extravagant, wanton and corrupt nobility, could never bvlng peace and prosperity. They knew that if France was left to act for herself, she could establish and maintain a republican gov- ernment. Never was there a grander achievement in the cause of justice and self-government, than the triumphant march of Napoleon across the Alps. II. Desaix. The Battle of Marengo occurred June 14, 1800. All battle-fields leave tragical memories. Marathon, Bunker Hill, and Marengo are each marked with a mournful, pa- thetic history. Kach called forth a nation's tcais, mourn- ing for heroic sons, who had fallen in a struggle with despotism and defending liberty. Marathon had Cynegi- rus ; Marengo, Desaix ; Bunker Hill had Warren. They arise up to memory out of these sepulchres, sanctified to human liberty, clothed with a radiant glory, grander by far than any honor earth can bestow. At the battle of Ma- rengo, for some time it was as if these brave men had passed the horrible dangers of the mountain march, had endured hardships in every conceivable form, \\\ vain. That they had encountered all this suffering but to find a grave upon the plains of Italy. The charge after charge 36 EXILES OE LOUISIANA. of the trained soldiers of Austria was terrible ; nothing but the most heroic courage saved the defenders of France from quick destruction. Desaix was anxiously expected with reinforcements. Napoleon sat upon his horse with that inexpressible serenity that seemed to say, I see the end, and it is victory. The French army were as if strug- gling in the last effort for supremacy on the battle-field, as if saying, can it be that the cause of liberty is to perish here ? Then a moment of supreme anxiety, verging on despair ; but destiny decreed that France should triumph. Hark ! there is floating on the air a dull booming sound, like distant thunder. Thousands of tongues shouted the name of Desaix ! Desaix ! It was the cannon of Desaix announcing glad tidings. Napoleon said of him, Desiiix is of the heroic mould of antiquity. He will decide this contest on the sidtj of justice and liberty. He rapidly moves along in solid column, and passes on to the ^eld of battle. The Austrian is dismayed. Rapid, still more rapid were the blows this athlete of war struck the serried ranks of despotism. The whole entire army of peace and liberty, with hearts renewed and resolved, charged upon the Austrian army; they wavered, broke into fragments, and at last gave away, and the victory was with Napoleon. To France this is a national sepulchre, sacred to the mem- ory of the heroic dead. Marengo has a history full of mournful pathos. Had you have asked a French soldier about Marengo, with tears he would have told you that Desaix came to save and to die. That the cannon in the distance that brought joy to other hearts, was but the mournful funereal knell of the man who came to conquer and to die. Had you have asked a Greek in olden times 9,bout Marathon, he would have told you the sad, mournful DESAIX. 37 story of Cynegirus, who after performing wondrous deeds of valor in the field of Marathon, was disarmed and cruelly slain by Persians, while rushing to save Athens from the invader. Ask the American to tell you about the battle of Bun- ker Hill. With touching pathos he would relate to you how the noble Warren went to the front of battle and said, " I am ready to die, if liberty can live, and have a resting-place in the new world." The victory of Marengo placed Italy in the hands of Napoleon. The dawn of the nineteenth century witnessed the advent of the second Caesar into Imperial Rome. Paul Lorraine had been seriously wounded in the battle. He fought side by side with a good, brave youth like himself, Jean Gendron. When Paul fell wounded and disabled, with the loss of blood, from a severe wound in the head and musket-ball in the arm, Jean dragged or carried him to a place of security, procured surgical aid and had his wounds properly cared for. As Jean was no longer wanted in the battle-field, he stayed with his friend until rest and refreshments had brought him to a knowl- edge of his situation. P'or some time he was unconscious. The last incident that had clung to his memory was the joyful shout that " Desaix was coming," and hearing the distant sound of his cannon. The surgeon pronounced his wounds serious, but not decidedly dangerous. When his mind was returned, he thanked his friend Jean for his constant care and kindness. The first thought that entered his mind was his love for his dear old mother and Annetta. He thought of the words that had comforted him so much in his hours of danger. " If you fall in defence of France, your memory will be so dear to me. The good and true Ill 'i\ Ml ■ u-iu 3» EXILES OF LOUISIANA. never remain long in misery and distress ; the good angel soon finds them and leads them out of the shadows of misfortun*; into the glad sunlight of happiness and joy." Upon further examination of Paul's condition, the surgeon reported that it would be a long time before he would be again in a condition for service in the army, and by a special order from Napoleon himself, he was well supplied with means, and sent to his happy, peaceful home in the valley on the Briangon road. Little did Annetta or Paul think that the first time the shadows of misfortune would fall upon him, Annetta herself would be the sweet angel to bring the sunlight of joy to his heart. Well will it be for him, if, in the dark hours of tribulation, in the years to come, his noble soul, stricken with agony and despair, God will, in tender com- passion, send this same angel of love and mercy, to lead him out of the shadows of misfortune, into the sunlight of joy. ITALY, Book III. I. Italy. Leghorn is situated on the Mediterranean sea, and is the principal seaport of Tuscany, not far from Pisa and Florence, the famous seat of art. There in Florence originated the Florentian school, and the illustrious name of Leonardo da Vinci. Here, too, is the poetic Valley of Arno. One of the main features of the excellence of the old masters in art was in the management of shadows in the background. The Chinese form some very good foreground pictures, both in landscape and figure painting, yet they seem to have had no conception of the superior advantage in perspective and background shadows. The old masters with Leonardo da Vinci in a very high degree displayed wonderful skill in detaching the front figures from the shadows. These background shadows were not of any distinct color ; there is in fact no color that the eye can detect. The colors with which these shadows are formed are so blended, and laid on the convass, that the eye is deceived into the conclusion that you are looking through the shadows on more distant objects, while the foreground figures rise up in front detached from both shadow and object. There are separate photographs taken of the different personages represented in Da Vinci's painting of the " Last Supper," and any person well versed in the character of 39 Ml I m m It r w\>\ Ijjjili 40 EXILES OF LOUISIANA. the disciples can readily tell the one which each figure was intended to represent. Any one could select Judas. This arises from the fact that the artist, it is said, selected corresponding characters, as near as possible from living models. In the fore part of the present century, in the city of Leghorn, not very far distant from the gate leading to Pisa, there is a mansion (or palace, as the Italians call any large edifice) belonging to a family by the name of Vilani, connected with an old aristocratic family of Florence, and was at this time occupied by Count Vilani, Lady Verono, and a quiet, retired looking man, with ^he appearance and dignity of a priest, whose name was Alonzo. It was gen- erally understood that the family of Vilani was connected with the celebrated family of the Medici through the forefathers of Lady Verono and Alonzo. These children of nobility are very numerous throughout the Italian states, for the reason that titles of nobility descend to all the sons of the family. They all like a life of splendid •ease. They detest hard work, and the largest portion of them are driven to the very extremes of poverty. The property descends to the sons, and is hereditary, and cannot be sold, and thus you will often find a marquis, renting out to strangers furnished apartments in his palace, while he has a little shop in the basement, where he sells oil, wine, olives, fruits,, etc. An American marquis would naturally take to the peanut trade. To an American count the pop-corn commerce would be most admirable. A duke, the head and front of a first class saloon ! It is not strange to see in Italy a real, genuine marquis or count, begging for food or clothing. How strange it would appear in our country to have a real marquis go to the 'i ^A*^ ■Ai ,w ITALY. 41 ach figure 2ct Judas. 1, selected rom living 1 the city leading to tis call any of Vilani, rence, and ly Verono, .ranee and [t was gen- connected irough the ;e children he Italian lescend to f splendid St portion rty. ditary, and marquis, Its in his ent, where in marquis American lirable. A It is not or count, it would go to the back door of the kitchen department, say to the lady of the house, " Something to eat, I am hungry." She says, '* I will give the noble marquis to understan ^ that he must first weed the garden, hoe the potatoes, and clean the front yard, then his lordship shall no longer hunger for food." " Madame, what is all this ; why it is work, and my ancestors would rise from their graves were I to use the shovel, hoe, or spade. Good-da_, , Madame." Or, " Noble duke, how is the pop-corn trade ? " or, " My lord count, is the peanut trade lively? " In our hotels the drummers of commercial houses would have the titled nobility to serve them at the table — dukes, marquises, and counts, to obey their orders. It would be a little inconvenient to be using these sounding titles, but it would pay in dignity. It would sound well to say, " Noble Duke some warm potatoes ; " or, " Count, hand me a glass of water. Marquis ! bottle wine, napkins, glasses, quick ! " Finally, with a great deal of gusto, you order the marquis to black your boots. This reminds me of an artist of some prominence, but exceedingly vain and self-conceited, who said to Governor Ford, of Illinois, " I am well convinced, governor, that gentlemen who are distinguished for talent and genius, even in republican democratic Illinois, should be distinguished by some title." "Well," said the governor, "I am willing, and as governor of Illinois, I will commence on you." " Well, what title would you confer on me, governor." " Count Jackaski." Governor Ford was never afterwards importuned on the question of a titled nobility. i; !'! 42 EXILES OF LOUISIANA. Those Italian counts and marquises who turn their hereditary palace into some practical use, and thus earn an honest livelihood, are a vast improvement on their ancestors, who lived in splendid ease and luxury on the earnings of others' toil and industry, and who formed a class of nobility who gave strength, power, and endurance, to an organized system of robbery, and plunder, of the to ling masses, and with cruel mockery called this heartless system a government. If the people complain they say, " kings are divinely appointed to rule over you, and you have no choice but to obey." II. The Insane Count. With this Count Vilani there was a serving man, an Italian, who went by the name of Geno, a most villainous model of humanity. Surely no one could ever recover damages against Geno for obtaining goods under false pretences. To look at his face you would think of the sign you often see at places where intruders are not wanted, " look out for the dog." Da Vinci surely must have met one of Geno's ancestors and took him for a mo^Ui ot n' Judas in the last supper. xn\ e ere the principal members of the household of Count Vilani. They were, so to speak, the foreground figures of the picture. In the background there were shadows filled with vague images of injustice, like the dark shadows of Benjamin West's painting of "Death on the Puie Horse," filled with indistinct images of terror. To the outsid'* THE INSANE COUNT. 43 world there was a cloud over the house of Vilani, arising from vague and undefined hints of crime, that never had assumed any direct or specific charge of acts committed by any member of this household that the law would recog- nize or seek to punish. Count Vilani had a cousin, Francisco Vilani, who had become heir to a considerable fortune. He was insane, and was for some time confined in an institution for the insane, at Florence. This Count Vilani, or Colonel Vilani, as he was some- times called from his having served some years in the army, had by his influence, and position, induced the public authority to place his cousin Francisco, under his cha'%'e, and urging the change upon the ground that he ( ■/ ('d better cared for under the immediate attention aiiCi supervison of his relatives. Lady Verono, Alonzo, and himself, they being the only relatives the unfortunate Francisco had living. The insane cousin did not, however, long survive the change. He gradually passed away to his grave. Soon gossip began to weave its dismal tales of slow poison, or starvation, in a dungeon in the palace, and that a vast amount of gold, diamonds, and precious stones, were concealed and hid away in some secret place to be used by the pe'[)etrators of the crime. Colonel Vilani, of course, accou.ic ) ^') the authorities for the property of the deceased, 1 it ,v s ip would say, "shame ! shame ! '' These tales. course, soon passed away, and their memor}'^ forgottc leaving nothing but a very indistinct impression on t'.e public mind that something of the kind was some ye^irs ago talked about among idling gossips. Colonel Vilai;i was of fine, personal appearance, haughty and elegant in deportinent, tasty and fashionable in dress i^ I !ii' I II iir iHii ill III ;,itl 44 EXILES OF LOUISIANA. There was one conclusion that any one would arrive at, that there was a cold, sinister expression in his face, that stamped him as a vain, heartless man. He was accused of being a libertine, — and surely the expression of his face was that of gross sensuality, — and that these charges were founded on facts. But a nobleman in any part of Italy, with plenty of gold to back his title and claim to nobility, would be invincible against any charges of this character, from the populace ; and Colonel Vilani could indulge him- self in all his licentious acts with perfect impunity. III. Lady Verono. Lady Verono, thus living with Count Vilani, her rela- tive, alone apparently, in the palace, did not necessarily involve her in any suspicion of improper conduct. It was not unusual for relatives among the nobility, thus to live together in family residences. Why she was called Lady Verono, history does not inform us. Verono was her family rame, and she was regarded as the lady of the palace household. To the casual observer, this beautiful woman, with her graceful suavity, and polished address, challenged admira- tion and affection. This splendid medallion had a reverse side that was terrible. Here was one of the marked traits of the house of Medici. The accomplished artist would fondly trace those classic features upon the canvass, and view his wrrk with delight and admiration. Yet, when he went away