Part 5 (2/2)

employs himself in curing sickness, in illuminating ignorance?” We at the present day know nothing like it; the mere giving of a few surplus hundreds or thousands to certain Slavery, Anti-Slavery, Peace, Temperance or other societies, is benevolence of the ”rocking chair”

species--is not to be mentioned with this, of the self-denying Cagliostro's diving into cellars, and mounting into garrets, to seek and to save--at the risk of not only life but comfort--the first of which happily was not thus sacrificed:--nor indeed on the whole was comfort lost sight of, as the ”coach-and-four with liveries and sumptuosities bears witness.” There is often profound wisdom in this thing called _public_ or newspaper charity. Does it--or does it not--pay?

The favorite of the G.o.ds, he who holds high discourse with spirits, and to whom is opened the hidden secret of earth and heaven, finds ready acceptance--backed as he is by charities, by elegancies: finds acceptance with the poor, the ignorant to whom he ministers--but also ”with a mixture of sorrow and indignation” it is recorded, among the great--and not only they, but among the learned, ”even physicians and naturalists.” It does not seem worth while to expend sorrow and indignation upon this fact, not at all new, as we now fifty years farther along have discovered; for we can show our physicians and naturalists, and also our priests and prophets, in small crowds with whom marvels find acceptance. We shall see more of them by and by.

But one among the rich and great, was the Cardinal Prince Count Rohan, Archbishop of Strasburg. ”Open-handed dupe,” as some term him--now out of favor with the Queen Marie Antoinette (after that beheaded and called unfortunate). Banished from his beloved Paris and the suns.h.i.+ne of royalty, what should he do but to regain his pedestal? necessary no doubt, for the glory of G.o.d, and his church; necessary at least for the Count Rohan. Cagliostro is all powerful--he will help the Cardinal Prince--not only by philters and charms, but by prophecies from the G.o.ds, who speaking through their earthly oracle, will of course (it paying best), promise success and not failure. The Archbishop tries all things, and at last the far-famed ”diamond necklace,” upon the queen, which no woman's heart can withstand, not even the queen's. Sad to tell, the miserable queen knew nothing of the necklace; and only the Md'lle De la Motte, styled countess, by superior arts had outjuggled Cagliostro himself, Cardinal Rohan, queen and all: the diamonds were gone--the queen's character blackened, cardinal, cophta, and countess, all in the Bastille, where they lay some nine months (year 1781), disastrous months, when ”high science” wasted itself in eating out its own heart.

Cagliostro escaped, was let go--but a plundered, banished, suspected high priest, was quite another thing from a golden cophta, with the foreign coat-of-arms, serene countess--and open purse relieving the unfortunate.

Cagliostro now flits to England, to Bale, to Brienne, to Aix, to Turin, he wanders. .h.i.ther and thither; we cannot follow him. The end of all, the lofty and the low, must come--that seems drawing near to Cagliostro too--but how? not in ruddy splendor as of departing day, not quiet, serene, as of nature sinking to rest--rather like the disastrous death of the bleeding shark it seems: his brethren, his friends--- sharks of his own kind, of all kinds, high and low--rush upon the wounded shark, as to a banquet to which they were bidden. He is exiled here, he is persecuted there--imprisonment, despair, degradation haunt him--the houseless, unfortunate--now vagabond, once renovator of the human race, and friend of lords and friend of G.o.ds and princes. Such is grat.i.tude!

such is popular favor! a thing to be bought and bargained for, to be given when _not needed_. Such, no doubt, Cagliostro decided!

He is sore bested, and begins ”to confess himself to priests,” for a man must do something in his extremity. It avails him not; he is at last in the gripe of the holy Inquisition at Rome, ”in the year of our Lord, 1789, December 29,” and must match himself with a power which this world knows something of: face to face, hand to hand, at last. Have they juggles equal to his juggles, miracles equal to his--high science equal to his--legions of angels equal to his?--enough that they have dungeons, and sbirri--and in his case, hearts harder than the nether mill-stone--not to be softened ”by demands for religious books”--a.s.sertions of the divinity of the Egyptian Masonry--promises of wonderful revelations--oaths, flatteries, or any of the mystic paraphernalia of the now powerless professor and prophet: they will not let him out! but rather will introduce him to a new art, that of becoming a Christian, and get him, the toughest in a tough time, into heaven as they best can. Did they find Loyola's twenty days sufficient, and was the article then turned out of hand complete for that other state? The Inquisition biographer does not dwell upon this, it was perhaps as well. We learn at last that he died in the year 1795, and went, the writer says, ”_Whither_ no man knows!” So ended a Magician!

NEW HAVEN, Feb., 1852.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] T. Carlyle.

BITTER WORDS.

WRITTEN FOR THE INTERNATIONAL MAGAZINE,

BY R. H. STODDARD.

Bitter words are easy spoken; Not so easily forgot; Hearts it may be can be broken-- Mine cannot!

When thou lovest me I adore thee; Hating, I can hate thee too; But I will not bow before thee-- Will not sue!

Even now, without endeavor, Thou hast wounded so my pride, I could leave thee, and for ever-- Though I died!

THE MURDER OF LATOUR.

WRITTEN FOR THE INTERNATIONAL MONTHLY MAGAZINE,

BY HON. W. H. STILES.[2]

The cabinet remained in deliberation at the Ministry of War, situated at the corner of the square called the Hof. The tide of insurrection now rose to an unconquerable height. The nearest shots of the retiring cannons, the advancing shouts of the infuriated people, warned the ministers that all defence was rapidly becoming hopeless. The building itself still offered some means of resistance, and there were two cannons in the court; but at that crisis was issued a written order, signed by Latour and Wessenberg, ”to cease the fire at all points,” and given to officers for distribution.[3] It was in vain. The popular torrent rolled on toward the seat of government, which was destined ere long to be disgraced by atrocious crime. The minister of war, Count Latour, prepared for defence. The military on guard in front of the war office were withdrawn into the yards, with two pieces of artillery loaded with grape. The gates were closed, the military distributed to the different threatened points, and the cannons directed towards the two gates; soon the scene of battle had reached the Bogner Ga.s.se, immediately under the windows of the war department; the ministers in consultation heard the cry, ”The military retreat.” The great square of the Hof was soon cleared, the soldiers retiring by the way of the Freyung. The guards and academic legion pursuing; the military commander's quarters in the Freyung are soon captured. The retiring military not being able to escape through the Schotten-Thor, as they had expected, that gate being closed and barricaded, they cut their way through the Herrn Ga.s.se.

So intent were the respective combatants, either in retreat or pursuit, that the whole tempest of war swept over the Hof, and left that square, for a short time, deserted and silent.

But that stillness was but of short duration; a few moments only had elapsed, when a number of straggling guards, students, and people, came stealing silently from the Graben, through the Bogner, Naglus, and Glosken Ga.s.se, on to the Hof, and removed the dead and the wounded into the neighboring dwellings, and into the deserted guard-house in the war department. These were soon followed by a fierce and noisy mob, armed with axes, pikes, and iron bars, which halted before the war office, and began to thunder at its ma.s.sive doors.

The officer of ordnance in vain attempted to communicate to the crowd the order of the ministry, that all firing should cease. A member of the academic legion, from the window, over the gateway, waved with a white handkerchief to the tumultuous ma.s.ses, and, exhibiting the order signed by Latour and Wessenberg, read its contents to the crowd.

But a pacification was not to be thought of; the people were too excited, their fury could only be appeased by blood; that delayed measure was not sufficient; they made negative gesticulations, and summoned the student to come down and open the portals to their admission. The tumult increased from minute to minute; the closed doors at length gave way under the axes of the mob, and the people streamed in, led by a man ”in a light gray coat.”

<script>