urbs visited by the inundations. Remote, alone, encompassed by the Volga and set in the great basin of the Caspian, the city of fishermen and nomads and the northern mart of Persia, Astrakhan offers perpetually something strange and picturesque to the eye, and furnishes scenes and incidents which, through a thousand and one nights, Scheherazade might weave into story for the Sultan of the Indies. Such, in brief outline, is Russia-a mighty power swaying the North, and advancing yearly in the great central region stretching to the Himmalayas and China. Just after the emancipation of the serfs there was published at Moscow a poem called Peasant Russia, in which was related the legend of Ilya of Murom (an ancient town on the Oka)—İlya, who for thirty-three years was silent and inactive, but who ate, drank, slept, and grew to a gigantic size. "Why will you thus waste your life ?" said his parents. "Rouse yourself and hold the plough, or guide the boat, or hunt the bear and the wolf in the forest." But, absorbed in great thoughts, he answered nothing until the day of his destiny dawned; then, done with slumber, he went forth like a god, and the earth trembled as he moved. "Thus," says the poet, "has Russia reposed, nourishing greatness, but al most unaware of her strength. Now the time of her waking has come, and she rises, glorious among the nations." This is not the dream of an enthusiast ; it is the poetry of fact. Under the Emperor Alexander II., him of the firm will and the tender, generous heart, Russia has begun a new existence, with sublime possibilities of greatness yet to be. Unsullied as her snows, broad and grand as the sweep of her plains, comprehensive and noble as the variety of her races, should be her rulers, her laws, her aims. God help the Czar and the people! AN EMPEROR'S VACATION AT VICHY. IN the summer of 1862 I was sent as an envoy to France (let us say, from the Court of Pumpernickel), and wanted to see the .Emperor. On reaching Paris I was informed that the Emperor was at Vichy, passing his annual vacation of a month there, and dispensing with the Empress, the Court, and public affairs for that period in that rural retreat. I had frequently heard of Vichy before, and had quaffed its refreshing waters at the pharmacien's, and read many marvelous accounts of the health-restoring qualities of its baths and drinking fountains. So the idea occurred to me, "Why not go there, and see royalty in vacation ?" Aided and abetted by my wife, who "thought the waters would do her good," -although there was nothing the matter with her, I proceeded to put my idea in execution. The Orleans Railway took us down at a rapid rate, and we reached Vichy at sunset. Passing through the streets of what looked like an overgrown village, we reached its central point, a large, square park, filled with fine shade-trees, under a group of which, perched on a raised platform in the center, a band discoursed most excellent music to a crowd of well-dressed people congregated around the stand; while numerous others, strolling through shady path-ways intersecting the grounds, presented a pleasing and animated picture to the eye of the new-comers. The four sides of this park were compactly built in with large blocks of houses, chiefly hotels, and there was a general watering-place air diffused over the whole locality. A casino at one end of the grounds appeared to be a popular resort of the idlers, and from this there issued, as we slowly lumbered by in our omnibus, four gentlemen, walking two abreast, for whom the other loungers respectfully made way, touching their hats as they did so— a salutation punctiliously returned by one of the four, who seemed the special object of these demonstrations. This was a short, ungraceful-looking man, with long body and short legs, who walked flatfooted, turning out his toes in a very peculiar manner. He appeared to walk with an effort, dragging his limbs, and supporting his spine with his left hand, as though his back were weak. His chest and shoulders were broad, and his body round as a barrel. As he dragged himself along he leaned heavily on the supporting arm of a large, stout man, whom we recognized as Prince Murat, once well known in Charleston as a jolly good fellow, when as an exile he resided there and took to wife Miss Fraser, since his princess. The head and face were unmistakable to all who had ever seen the Emperor's likeness— the heaviest mask which nature ever placed on human shoulders to conceal the genius which indubitably belonged to their possessor. For at that hour, in the hands of that heavy, dull-looking, shambling man, was placed more power, and on the breath of his lips there hung more destinies, than any other living man could boast of, and the perpetuation of that power then seemed to be a certainty. Gravely, wearily, but courteously did the Emperor return the salutations of the passersby; but no ray lit up the lifeless eye,—almost closed by the heavy over-hanging lids,-no smile relieved the somber face on which apathy and weariness seemed to have set their seal. He and his companion were plainly dressed, with no external indication of rank, or uniform of any kind, and were preceded or followed by no attendants. But, as I afterwards learned, wherever the Emperor went, whether on foot or in carriage, not far off was to be seen the ferret-like face and restless eye of the chief of the secret police, ever following the footsteps of the Chief of State, who, in his careless fatalism, never took any precautions, or felt any fear himself. Plots against his life, from the murdering bombs of Orsini to the midnight plottings of conspirators, had been innumerable, but, if not born insensible to fear, he had schooled himself to a sullen stoicism in regard to it. Here at Vichy, three times every day, any bold assassin might have slain him, access to his person as he walked out was so easy; and almost all day he sat exposed to public view, smoking cigarettes on the balcony of the cottage-orné which Strauss, the mumusician, had yielded up to his royal masterthe latter having no cottage of his own in which to reside. At a later day a royal residence was erected at Vichy, and many other improvements made. It so chanced that the hotel at which we took up our quarters adjoined and overlooked the Strauss villa, which the Emperor occupied that summer, the famous musician and his daughter, dispossessed by royalty, having secured apartments at our hotel. Strauss, whose waltzes have set so many feet flying, was a jovial, middle-aged man, seemingly well content with the world and himself, and often favored us in the evenings, when we became better acquainted, with original compositions of his own, his daughter ac companying his violin on her piano. The close vicinity in which we lived and the overlooking windows of our hotel "forced upon our eye" the routine of his daily walk and conversation in this his great vacation, and a lazier life, apparently, no mortal man might lead, be he gentle or simple, royal or republican. The consumption of innumerable cigarettes, smoked so closely down beneath his shaggy mustache as perpetually to threaten to set fire to that thatch over his long upper lip, seemed the most constant and arduous of the Imperial labors. nose From "morn till dewy eve," the thin blue smoke was curling up under the exaggerated as though he were a vestal whose duty it was to prevent the sacred fire from ever being extinguished. The solemnity with which the rite was performed-no gleam of satisfaction ever illumining the saturnine countenance-increased the impression that he was doing it as a duty; for no wooden face adorning a tobacconist's shop ever was so expressionless as that of this stolid-looking man. The tesselated pavement which led to the balcony of Strauss's villa, and the balcony itself, were strewed with the burnt-offerings of tissue-paper daily consumed, and the Emperor showed himself a man by making the most of this exemption from his usual marital responsibilities. At Vichy, in the absence of the Empress and the formalities of court etiquette, Napoleon could indulge the bent of his Bohemian proclivities without let or hindrance. Bringing down with him only his private secretary, Prince Murat, and half a dozen other stanch courtiers, he passed his days in luxurious indolence, riding, driving, strolling in the grounds, where all the health and pleasure seekers coming to Vichy congregated, and took the waters and the baths of its healthrestoring fountains with unfailing regularity. The routine of the unexciting life of the place was adopted by him as well as by the other visitors, and he seemed to enjoy, in his own undemonstrative way, the immunity from the pleasures as well as the duties of his position. Here he was not bored with court balls nor formal receptions, nor plagued by visits from foreign ambassadors. Occasionally a courier booted and spurred would come riding at hot haste, with the dust of travel upon him, bringing dispatches from Paris; or one of his ministers would come up by the train, and then his dolce far niente would be disturbed, but not for any length of time, as he soon would be seen again sauntering, cigarette be tween lips, on the dusty road, or among the green alleys. Walking or driving, however, no show of state was indulged in. The liveries were simple as those of any good citizen of Paris, and his attendants or companions wore no uniform of any kind. He himself sported a shooting-jacket or paletot and a slouch hat in his drives, wearing when he walked only the morning dress of a simple gentleman, made by Poole, of Saville Row, in London, who had never dunned the exile when, years before, he dressed him during his reluctant residence there. The only entertainments he much affected were theatricals, and eminent members of the profession came down to Vichy to play occasionally there, when they were munificently rewarded, and the small theater in which they performed was crowded to suffocation. There were private or privileged performances also, which no one was entitled to attend without an invitation, and hence access to these was most desired, for to them the Emperor always went. I remember one of these in which an octogenarian, but ever young actress, performed the rôle of a lively young rakish prince, dressing in male costume; and the spirit, vivacity and energy with which the very old woman personated a wild young man was really marvelous. But I remember this personation all the more vividly because it was the only occasion on which I ever saw the Emperor laugh heartily, actually shaking his sides with merriment at some of the evolutions of the old-young actress; before that time I had doubted whether that was a possibility with him. I imagine it was a most rare faculty of that saturnine nature and brooding soul,-secretive even to itself, and not given to outward manifestations of emotion; but to that one hearty laugh I can testify, for I sat near him, and saw him laugh until the tears ran down his face at some buffoonery of Dejaget, which did not greatly amuse the rest of us. Sometimes the Emperor would attend the balls given at the hotels, and capriciously select as his partner any pretty young girl who might strike his fancy. Whatever his morals may have been at Paris, the publicity of all his actions and movements at Vichy constrained him to the practice of the most rigid propriety. Any one looking upon his muddy complexion, his shambling gait, and heavy eye, could tell he was an unhealthy and an unsound man; but certain it is that I never saw him look as well as he did at Vichy, where he daily and religiously followed the course prescribed for patients. Nor did he neglect the arts for keeping up his popularity, which had become a second nature with him—since, unlike his uncle, he could not command it, nor magnetize men by the spell of his presence or his genius. In pursuance of his policy, while we were at Vichy the Emperor gave a grand fête champêtre to the population of the place and the surrounding country; and a most fairylike scene it was. Within a very large inclosure surrounded by canvas, like a huge tent, and guarded by gendarmes, the festivities were held on a raised platform, with reserved seats for invited guests, and a separate place for the dancers. The outer ring was appropriated for spectators, as the fête was free to all, and the surrounding trees with their bright-colored Chinese lamps suspended from them, with electric lights at intervals, gave the whole scene the brightness of day. There was a private entrance reserved for the invited guests, protected from intrusion of the crowd by files of gendarmes, and this was the entrance intended for ladies. By some blunder, however, our party was shown the wrong entrance, and after alighting from our carriages we found ourselves still remote from the gate, and surrounded by a perfect mob of sturdy countrymen and countrywomen, who did not evince by any means the proverbial courtesy of France in their treatment of us. On the contrary we were elbowed, pushed, squeezed and jostled in a manner the reverse of agreeable, and the gymnastic feats we had to go through were very injurious to the frail fabrics composing the dresses of the ladies. Whatever might be the lip-loyalty of the good people of Vichy and its neighborhood, its practical demonstration on this occasion towards a party they considered as guests of the Emperor was anything but convincing as to the sincerity of their devotion. In fact we observed here, as in Paris, that smothered hatred of the lower class towards their more fortunate or richer brethren, which culminated in the overturn of the Empire, and the return to Egalité, Liberté et Freternité: I put the three in the order they occupy in the French mind. When once in the charmed ring of the re served seats, however, we were compensated for the rudeness of our reception outsid there no scowling faces were visible. T country girls were dancing merrily with ther own beaux, or with the dainty gentlemen the Court, who seemed to think it fine fun, hand, and to be had at rates which would but the ladies only looked on. It was a gay and festive scene, and the Emperor sat and looked as pleasant as he could for a couple of hours at the dancers, and went home to his cigarettes doubtless felicitating himself on the strong hold he was securing on the affections of his "fellowcitizens," of whom he was the elect. There are, however, few spots in France where his absence will be more sincerely deplored than at Vichy, whose sparkling waters his annual visit made Pactolian, and whose population lived during the remaining remaining eleven months of the year on the profits of the single month he passed among them. The routine of the life at Vichy was so invariable, that the description of a single day will suffice. Early rising to visit one of the "sources" and drink a glass of its sparkling waters before breakfast was the opening duty of the day, and then a brisk walk, and then, about 8 o'clock, breakfast at the table d'hôte of one of the large hotels-a déjeuner à la fourchette, with red wine as well as coffee and tea. After breakfast until mid-day, gossip or reading the papers at the casino or club rooms. At 12 the band in the park struck up and played for two hours. Chairs were placed in convenient spots all over the park, and crowds of people sat and listened to the music, which was very fine. At 3 o'clock dinner at the table d'hôte. At 5 P. M. the band struck up again and we had music for two hours, or drove out in carriages, which were always on make our New York Jehus stare with contempt were they offered to them for the use of their rickety old rat-traps and spavined hacks. We then took tea at 7 o'clock, and there was more music to be listened to in the park, or theatrical performances, or hotel hops, to while away the evening. People drank the waters or bathed at discretion, and a large proportion of the visitors troubled either waters or baths very little. The inducements to visit Vichy, quiet and even dull as it may seem from this description, were manifold. In fact it was frequented by a most respectable class of people, and the Emperor, while there, was certainly as decorous as the rest. We know that a man may idle "all day" yet work all night! and the curious observer of the Strauss villa might have noted that a light was to be seen glimmering in the Emperor's chamber very late at night always, arguing one of two things-either that he slept with his light burning, or retired in the small hours. The "Man in the Mask" imprisoned in the Bastille has long been a puzzle to the reader of French history, but the annals of France will now furnish another "Man in the Mask," who sat for eighteen years upon the throne, and whose real nature and identity will be as great a mystery to posterity as those of his imprisoned predecessor. SONG. I'm sitting alone at my window, Could they feel but my heart's full beating, Their coldness would warm to pity; They would stay in their flight and turn, And bring me one sweet, fond message And my pulses should still their fever, But still as I sit at my window Their glow is but cast by the sunset Their breath but the night-wind's sigh. STEPPING UP BEHIND HIM, I PUT MY HAND UPON HIS SHOULDER, AND SAID: 'WELL, HOW DO YOU LIKE IT?'" CHAPTER VIII. I How shall I write the history of the few weeks that followed my new experience? had risen, as on wings, from the depths of despair to the heights of hope. I had emerged from a valley of shadows, haunted by ten thousand forms of terror and shapes of anguish, and sat down upon the sunny hills of peace. The world, which had become either mocking or meaningless to me, was illuminated with loving expression in every feature. Far above the deep blue of the winter skies my imagination caught the sheen of winged forms and the far echoes of happy angel-voices. |