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father misery enough, without wrecking the happiness of said. “I will write you down an ass,' if you like. Let I am no heathen, to sacrifice to Moloch."

me see: that makes a broken-winded, asinine screw. Any “ Come, Joe,” I said; “ you seem uncommonly bitter thing else?against your old love. But be a trifle more explicit'; let us “ Yes: there are the moral annoyances and vexations of hear the whole of your impeachment of gymnastics. You finding out that you are perpetually losing the faculty of seem to me to be as violent now in your denunciations of doing some absurd thing or other, that no one in his senses them, as you were formerly unreasonable in your devotion feels the least desire to do. You saw to-day how I lost my to them. Come, now; what harm have they done you?” temper, because I could not vault over a five-barred gate. "Well

, in the first place,” grunted Joe," they have It was the same thing the other day at an athletic festival broken my wind.” — I thought of the five miles an hour, at Westwich. I was fool enough to let them humbug me but was silent. " At the slightest exertion, or quickening into going in for the hammer — just to show the rustics of the pace, I begin to blow like a grampus. I tried to get how to throw it. Well, sir, one of my own tenants' sons up Mont Blanc last year; had to give it up at the Grands threw six feet further than I did. But come; we've had Mulets. If I go in for swimming, I knock up after half a enough of this; pass the port. A few pounds of flesh more mile.”

or less can't make much difference now. No more? Then Well, but even if this is so, how is it due to gymnas- let us go, and have coffee with Annie.” tics ?

“ Just another minute,” I pleaded. “ At this rate, Fe “I'll tell you. In the first place, as I said before, they ought not to take any exercise at all.” put on muscle that with the least inaction becomes fat. "I never said that. Take exercise in plenty ; - cricket, But, besides this, only consider what fooleries we go in for row, ride, shoot, skate, fence, box, so long as you can do so when we are at it! We get into a perfect lather of per- without leading an unnatural life. But if any one wants spiration; we immediately shove our heads into a basin of you to go into training for any of these things, to knock off cold water, or get some fool like ourselves to pour a can your pipe, to limit yourself to some absurd pittance of fluid of cold water down our backs. Of course, the perspiration per diem, with your throat as dry as the Sahara; to is violently arrested, and the system chilled. The result is, variegate your skin with a crop of boils, or to live at the that we thicken the bronchial tubes, we derange the action mercy of some brutal trainer or some pigmy cox., take my of the heart, we become asthmatic, and extremely suscep- advice, and do nothing of the sort. It is better to remain tible of cold."

an abortion like you, Tom, than to break down like me. “ Well, I admit the first count, old man.

But come up stairs, and then we'll have a pipe." comparatively — very comparatively — speaking, brokenwinded. What next?

"Well, in the next place, you never yet knew a fellow go in heavily for athletics who did not damage himself by

THOMAS BUSBY, MUS. DOC. overstraining some part or other. You knew Dupoids of Balliol, - magnificent fellow! seen him throw the hammer THERE is a story of a country clergyman observing of reone hundred and twelve feet;- well, he strained his left jected addresses, that he could not understand why they had breast, and feels it ever since. Long, the mile-runner, been rejected; they seemed to him very good addresses. brought on varex, and wears an elastic stocking; Doolan, And a certain critic of the period is reputed to have said of the spurt-runner, went into a consumption; my cousin Jack, “Gulliver's Travels," that he thought the narrative interesiwho won the sculls, has to wear a truss. I sprained the ing, but rather improbable in regard to some of its details. It right pectoral muscle when I was playing some stupid is plain that, in the judgment of many lookers-on, satire must antics on the trapeze, and directly the cold weather sets in, often miss its mark. Indeed, when it is of a comprehensive I am never free from pain in the damaged part.”

kind, one can no more expect that its every shaft will tell, “ Proven! I exclaimed, anxious to check his remi- than that every shot fired from a mi'railleuse will cause niscences of disabled heroes, which threatened to become destruction. In both cases, some waste of force, and some lengthy. “You have made good your second count. You failure of plan, are almost inevitable. are damaged; in point of fact a screw, a broken-winded A great satirist invests with importance the objects of his What next?

satire. However severe may be his usage o them, he yet “ Besides all this,” continued he, “I am quite convinced kicks them up stairs, as it were. Pope has really embalnied that strong training makes a man heavy, somnolent, and in the “ Dunciad” the poetasters and witlings he sought to stupid. Plato, who, to my mind, is about the only fellow exterminate. But for him, we should know nothing of them. who ever understood the subject of education as a system In lieu of the vitriol that destroys, he poured upon them, in founded on reason, is quite right in saying that physical truth, the spirits of wine that preserve. Fame clings to them and mental training cannot go on simultaneously. Mark from the fact that they were deemed worthy the furious atPattison, too, is tolerably well on the spot in what he says tack of one so famous. about the mania for athletics. Only, you know, he is a James and Horace Smith were not satirists of the Pope weakling, like you; and a man does not like to be put right school. Avowedly they designed but to raise “a harmless by a fellow that he could smash.”

laugh” at the expense of the more eminent and popular Well, but the Greeks,” I objected, “certainly made writers of their time. Some of these even

Rogers and gymnastics an integral part of their education.”

Campbell, for instance

:— were passed over from a feeling " True,” replied Joe; “ but, in the first place, the Greeks that they did not present sufficient opportunites to the caribegan their physical education at a time when the mind is caturists. And throughout their undertaking, the joint aubest fallow, and brought it to an end in good time. Whereas thors were intent upon producing inoffensive parodies, rather our fellows grind on the river, or in the gymnasium, at the than acrimonious satire. As a rule, therefore, we must not very crisis of the mind: they burn the candle at both ends. look in their pages for the kind of ridicule that confers long Besides, the gymnastics of the Greeks went on an entirely life

upon its victims. Something like this has happenedl; different principle from ours. Theirs were systematic, and, however, in two or three cases. Effusive Fitzgerald, and so to speak, generic : ours are haphazard and special. They his benedictory verses, would perhaps long since have been cultivated the harmony of the whole body: we only develop | forgotten, but for the burlesque of his muse by the Smiths. particular parts; our fellows only aim at putting on lumps The Hon. William Spencer's name as a poet would scarcehere and there. One fellow goes in for rowing, and puts a ly have survived, if the humorous travesty of his style and lump on his forearm, and another behind his shoulder- sentiments, commencing with the line, “ Sobriety, cease to blades. Another fellow goes in for dumb-bells and parallel be sober," had not been written. Spencer himself, “ in bars, and puts a lump on his biceps. Another goes in for comic confidence at his villa at Petersham," said to Horace running or jumping, and puts a lump on his calf. But there Smith, " It's all very well for once, but don't do it again. is nothing systematic; it is all chaotic and idiotic."

I had been almost forgotten, wlien you revived me; and “Well, I suppose you must have it your own way," I now all the newspapers and reviews ring with this fashion



able and trashy author." And a third bard, mainly re- tary,” Elliston was the first manager who, for his own membered now by the parody of his verses in “ Rejected greater glorification, specially retained the services of a Addresses," was a certain Thomas Busby, Mus. Doc., con- bard. cerning whom we propose to make some brief mention. Occasionally, it would seem, however, that Elliston,

The arrow sped at Dr. Busby was the one failure of the unable to commit to memory the rhapsodies of Busby, or satirists. He could thereafter claim fame, both on the score preferring his own impromptu ingenuity as a speech-maker, that he had been thought worth aiming at, and that he had would pause in the middle of the doctor's address, and been missed. But he was, in truth, too vast and too dense a conclude with an oration of his own contriving. Somebutt. He had already clothed himself so completely in thing of this kind happened at the opening of the Surrey, ridicule, that there was no room for any one to add more. in 1810. The first poetry lines of the managerial address What can the satirist do against a man who has more than were Busby's; but presently Elliston was found to be delivsufficiently satirized himself ? The doctor's own writings, ering, in his happiest manner, his own florid prose. “ The as the Quarterly Review remarked at the time, “ for extrav- poetry was conventional, the speech was special,” writes agant folly, tumid meanness, and vulgar affectation, set all Elliston's biographer; "and though the unhappy rhymester the powers of parody at utter defiance.” Jeffrey, in the was sadly shorn on the evening in question, he had the satEdinburgh, said of the address, “ Architectural Atoms," which isfaction of viewing himself at full length in the newspaper the Smiths had ascribed to Busby, that it appeared to be

columns of the following morning.” “ far more capable of combining into good poetry, than the When the committee of management of Drury Lane few lines we were able to read of the learned doctor's gen- Theatre publicly advertised in August, 1812, for an address, uine address." Did ever satirists before over-estimate the to be spoken on the opening of the new building on the merits of their subject, or parody so mildly as to raise less 10th of October, be sure that Dr. Busby availed himself of laughter than the thing parodied ?

the opportunity to exercise his muse. It does not appear, Yet this Busby, apart from his distinction as a butt, was from the terms of the advertisement, that any reward was a person of some note in his day. Absurd almost to crazi- offered for the most successful poem. But, no doubt, an unness, he yet had fair title to respect on the score of his derstanding prevailed that the chosen bard would be duly abilities and accomplishments. Born at Westminster, in recompensed. Nearly a gross of addresses was sent in, 1755, he had studied music under Jonathan Battishill, at each in obedience to the provisions of the invitation, that time a famous composer of anthems, catches, and glees, “sealed up, with a distinguishing word, number, or motto, who lies buried by the side of Dr. Boyce, in St. Paul's corresponding with the inscription on a separate sealed Cathedral. Busby became organist at the churches of St. paper, containing the name of author.” These addresses, Mary Woolnoth, Lombard Street, and St. Mary, Newington; some written by men of great, some by men of little, and produced oratorios at the Haymarket and Covent Garden some by men of no, talent,” were all rejected. At the last Theatres ; published selections of music in a serial form, moment a prologue was supplied by Lord Byron, a member such as“ The Divine Harmonist” and “The Beauties of Brit- of the committee. Probably it had been from the first inish Song.”. In 1800, the University of Cambridge conferred tended that his lordship should be the poet of the occasion. upon him his degree of Doctor of Music. He supplied the Of the numerous discarded bards, Dr. Busby was the accompaniments to the popular melodramas of " A Tale of most angry and disappointed. Fully convinced of its surMystery” and “ Rugantino," and the music of the opera of passing merits, he had made sure of his address being cho“ The Fair Fugitives.” He published a grammar of music, sen before all others. Moreover, as though expressly to and a new musical dictionary. Moreover, he produced a aggravate the sufferings of the poets, no intimation had translation of “Lucretius," which was thus cruelly an- been afforded them of the fate of their manuscripts. It is nounced by one of the newspapers, in the register of births : even probable that many of them had attended the theatre “ Yesterday, at his house in Queen Anne Street, Dr. Busby, on the opening night, in expectation of hearing their own of a still-born Lucretius.”

verses delivered from the stage. The rejected candidates It was the doctor's delusion that he was a poet. He was might surely have been spared this mortification. And continually pestering the newspapers with his effusions. the managers would have saved themselves from considerHe especially prided himself upon his prologues and occa- able inconvenience, if they had been more alert to consult sional addresses to theatrical audiences. Elliston, who had the feelings of the slighted authors. Lord Byron's address become manager of the Surrey Theatre, humored the doc- was recited by Elliston, in the dress of Hamlet, on the opentor's foible, enlisted his services, and designated him “ the ing night, and was repeated after the first play, on nine or laureate of the Surrey stage." In evasion or in defiance of ten subsequent evenings. There was a murmuring in the the restrictions of the licenser, and the privileges of the air, and a leaven of discontent among the audience; but patent theatres, Elliston had produced Macbeth as “a grand there would seem to have been no serious manifestation of ballet of action with music,” &c. He was only entitled to feeling, until the night of the 14th of October ; 'when, imperform“ burlettas;" but he contrived to embrace the whole mediately after the performance of “ The Hypocrite" had British drama in that mysterious form of entertainment. concluded, an unknown gentleman rose in the pit, and adDr. Busby provided a prologue to this ballet of Macbeth. dressed the audience with great earnestness. One of the acIt was a curious composition, which, reciting that " with na- tors appeared upon the stage, in accordance with the custom ture and the energies of man, the reign of poesy

of that time, to announce the entertainments of the followbegan,” enumerated all the great dramatists, from Æschylus ing evening. He was compelled to retire, having failed to to Shakspeare, and concluded with a reference to the pecu- make himself heard. The attention of the audience was liar difficulties of the Surrey management:

engrossed by the speaker in the pit, and great confusion

prevailed. The gentleman was waving a paper in his hand, Though not endowed with fullest powers of speech, and was therefore invited by his neighbors to mount to the The poet's object we aspire to reach ; The emphatic gesture, eloquence of eye,

stage, and address the house from that advantageous posiScenes, music, every energy we try,

tion. This counsel the unknown followed: when in front To prove wo keep our duties full in view,

of the footlights he was met by Mr. Raymond, the stageAnd what we must not say, resolved to do ;

manager. Both addressed the house and each other, withConvinced that you will deem our zeal sincere,

out either making himself heard. The spectators laughed, Since more by deeds than words it will appear.

cheered, and then hooted. Meantime, the figures upon the

stage were seen gesticulating and interchanging profound Many other addresses were afterwards written by Busby bows, after the manner of Noodle and Doodle, in the burfor Élliston ; the great manager and his proceedings sup- lesque of “ Tom Thumb.” Eventually, the stranger was someplying sufficient themes for the poet. “ They contributed what violently removed from the stage by two police-offito each other's fame,” writes a critic; " it was a joint This arbitrary proceeding excited great disapprobapolicy of immortality ;” and it was noted at the time that, tion. The concluding performances of the night were although Kean was the first actor who talked of “his secre- subjected to grave interruption. The stage-manager was

and song


summoned, and was loudly hissed upon his entry. He endeavored to explain that he had only acted in accordance with the duties of his office; he had but removed “ an unknown person,” who had attempted to disturb the representation ; and he appealed to the house to know if it was regular or desirable that any one should quit the pit and appear on the stage to recite an unauthorized address. A measure of peace was restored, but Mr. Raymond left many of his auditors unconvinced of the propriety of his treatment of the “unknown person,” who remains unknown to this day.

A more stormy episode was in store for the following evening, relative to a rejected address. The entertainments consisted of “ The Rivals" and the farce of “ Turn Out.” Upon the termination of the comedy, Dr. Busby rose from his seat in the boxes, and, bowing repeatedly to all parts of the house, commenced a speech. For some minutes the tumult was so great, friends and foes were alike so vociferous, hisses and plaudits were so intermingled, that not a sentence could be heard. By his more immediate neighbors, how, ever, the speaker was understood to say,

“I am Dr. Busby: a lover, a member of the drama, and a friend to the theatre.” (Loud cheering, hisses, and cries of, “ Hear him!”) “Ladies and gentlemen, by some I may be blamed for taking this method of addressing you, as being humiliating to a gentleman; but I can see no greater impropriety in speaking from the public box of a public theatre, than from a forum, or from the hustings of an election.” (Cheering and disapprobation.) “Ladies and gentlemen, for the talents and qualifications of the right honorable, noble, and illustrious lord who wrote the address which you have heard this night recited to you, I have the highest respect.” (Applause and hisses.) “It is well known that for several weeks the committee appointed to manage the concerns of this theatre have, by public advertisements, courted the exertions of the literary world to prepare an address, to be spoken at the opening of this truly magnificent structure. This was, on their part, noble and praiseworthy; but it must be allowed, on all hands, that, however right they have been in intention, they have most lamentably erred in judgment."

The noise now became so great that the doctor was unable to proceed for some minutes. Presently, he went on to say that the number of persons who condescended to furnish addresses had exceeded one hundred, he believed; and those who thought that out of such a number a better could not have been selected, did not think so highly of the poetical talent of the country as he did. Among them it might be taken for granted that some were very fine. He himself knew of four or five answering to that description. Here arose loud cries of, “ Your own and your son's were among the number.”

The orchestra now commenced playing, and drowned in music the voice of the speaker. Presently, he was further interrupted by the performance of the farce. Between the acts, he made an unsuccessful attempt to renew his speech. The audience was divided in opinion. Some were for hearing the doctor, some for hearing the farce. The actors ventured upon appropriate “gags." Dowton, who played “ Restive," charged against a misjudging world, “ which had rejected many of his works of genius, that he had sent twenty most noble addresses to Drury Lane Theatre, none of which had been accepted by the committee. He had, therefore, determined to go to the playhouse himself and recite them.” This sally was received with great laughter and applause. And a verse of the song of “ Turn Out," sung by Knight, in the character of Forage, also excited great amusement :

Poor poots must often turn out, turn out;
Poor poets must often turn out.

And thongh often they wait,
Expecting their fate,

They discover, too late,
Like the rest, they must quickly turn out.

have a strong, a powerful motive,” he said, “ for requesting your attention. I am a friend to this theatre. I wish to open the way to superexcellence; to bring forward strong and powerful talent, instead of letting it sink into oblivion. Gentlemen, I am a friend to merit, and more especially to modest merit. My son is now in this house, with an address which I had prepared for the opening of the theatre; and nothing would bring greater pride and satisfaction to me, than that he should be allowed by the managers to rehearse it on the stage, if you will give him leave.”

This proposition was greeted with prolonged applause. But suddenly the speaker was roughly seized by two Bowstreet officers, and dragged from the boxes. The doctor fought gallantly, and by sitting down on the stairs, and grasping the banisters with all his force, he greatly hindered the efforts of the constables. A crowd was collected, and chivalrously took the part of the oppressed. The officers were hustled down the stairs, while their victim was borne in triumph upon the shoulders of his friends round the corridors, and reinstated in the boxes. Smoothing his ruffled plumage, and gaining breath, while the house cheered him again and again, the doctor resumed his speech. He was understood to state that he was now the champion of the rights of play-goers; as much a freeman as a conqueror; and he should now give the house an opportunity of hearing such a monologue as they had seldom heard. (Cries of, “ Bravo !” and, “ Go on!") He acknowledged their kind partiality with more than common gratitude, for more than common compliment to his muse; but he had now to mention that if they were as sincere as he was, in their desire to hear his verses, they must hear them from his son, who was sitting in the pit, and who knew the monologue by heart.

Mr. George Frederick Busby, the doctor's son, now mounted to the stage. At the same moment, Mr. Raymond reappeared. In obedience to the wish of the house, be soon withdrew, however, intimating that the management had no wish to interfere with the efforts of the reciter. Mr. Busby, jr., then began the address. But his voice was small, and the uproar was still great. With difficulty could the opening lines be heard:

When energizing objects men pursue,
What are the prodigies they cannot do ?
A magic edifice you here survey,

Shot from the ruins of the other day. Then came interruptions, hisses, cries of, “ Silence !" and laughter. The speaker was inaudible, but he persisted with his task. Thereupon he was, in his turn, addressed by a loud-toned gentleman in the boxes. “Mr. Busby, I would advise you to go home, if you cannot make use of a stronger voice. You ought not to presume to get on that stage to detain the company, if you cannot speak so that we may distinctly bear; and I must tell you, that not a worů of what you say can be understood here, from the smallness of your voice, however large and elegant your ideas may be.”

The young gentleman claimed further indulgence, and for some little time longer he was permitted to proceed with his monologue. But still be could not make himself heard. The house now took to groaning and crying, “ Go home !" At length he desisted, and retired from the stage, leaving his address still in part unheard. So terminated a scene that was wonderfully absurd, and must have been also irresistibly laughable.

The doctor published his address in the newspapers. He was not to be convinced of its inferiority. At his own house, he gave private recitations of it, with readings from his translation of " Lucretius," refreshing his audience with tea and bread and butter. Satire was powerless against such a poet. The Smiths' parody fell flat. Even the parenthetical address, by “Dr. Plagiary," which Lord Byron hastened to publish, was felt as somewhat superfluous, – a thriće slaying of the slain. The opening lines ran thus :

“When energizing objects men pursue,".

The Lord knows what is writ by Lord knows who. “ A modest monologue you here survey,”


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But the doctor was not to be dismayed or silenced. The farce over, he again presented himself to the audience. “I


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and peer:

Hissed from the theatre “the other day;

soon as themselves arrived one of the numerous couriers As if Sir Fretful wrote the “slumberous

which the duchess had despatched in all directions in And gave his son “the rubbish” to rehearse.

pursuit; for their flight had been discovered immediately. The address was directed to be spoken “in an inarticu

The governor of Dieppe dared not arrest such a personage

as the heir of Tremouille without a formal warrant, late voice, by Master P., at the opening of the next new

document which had been quite overlooked in the hurry. theatre. Stolen parts marked with inverted commas.” But it was hardly worth while to accuse the doctor of

It was not likely to be long delayed; but meanwhile plagiarism, or to consider him with any degree of gravity. something had to be done ; and

the governor did that someHe was not a foeman worthy of Lord Byron's steel, or of

thing in the style of a born official. Rightly surmising

that the prince was bound for Holland, he issued an order any one's steel; or, indeed, of steel at all, employed aggressively. He could be safely trusted to make himself more

forbidding any shipmaster of that country to give him a than sufficiently ridiculous.

passage. This was effectual, so far as it went; but it did

go far enough. There were other routes to Holland beside the direct one,- a fact which the worthy governor

does not seem to have suspected until it was thrust rather THE PRINCE OF TARENTE'S LOVE-STORY. disagreeably under his notice. While his men kept sharp

watch over all the Dutch vessels in the harbor, the prince AMONG the least known, but certainly not the least went quietly on board an English one that happened to be interesting, of the many memoirs left us by the contempo- getting under weigh, and in twenty-four hours more was raries of Mazarin, are those of Henri-Charles, Prince of landed safely in Devonshire. From thence he hurried to Tarente. The writer was the heir of the great house his aunt, the Countess of Derby, in London, where his unof Tremouille, than which there was not a wealthier or a usual exertions threw him into a fever that confined him for nobler in old France. The head of the family was duke two months. On his recovery he resumed his journey,

He had even some pretensions to royalty, reaching the Hague without further accident. through his descent from Frederick of Naples, a monarch From the Hague he communicated with his parents, who who had died deposed towards the beginning of the six- very wisely made the best of the matter. It was clear that teenth century. These pretensions were of value, inasmuch he was resolved to be a soldier. It was equally clear that, as they enabled the Tremouilles to assume the addition, if not allowed to fight under his great relative, he would Highness, which placed them on a level with the multitu- seek another and probably more dangerous service. So, dinous sovereign princes of Germany; and, therefore, instead of complaining, or taking measures likely to render above all that was merely noble in France, or elsewhere. him uncomfortable in Holland, they did their utmost to fix Thanks to this addition, the Tremouilles mingled blood him there. The duchess undertook to allow him thirty with royalty, until they were akin to every crown in Europe. thousand livres a year; and, in concert with her, the duke But their proudest alliances, or, at least, those in which they requested the Prince of Orange to give their son an office ought to have taken most pride, were contracted a little that would establish him in the country: which the prince lower. For instance, the Prince of Tarente's grandmother did. De Tarente, however, was soon fettered to the Low was the daughter of William the Silent; his mother was Countries, by a tie far stronger than any twined by interest the sister of Marshal Turenne ; his grandfather's sister was or glory. Military enthusiast as he was, he contrived to the grandmother of the great Condé; and his aunt was lose his heart long before he won his spurs, the object the noble lady who defended Latham House. Thus, of his attachment being the eldest daughter of the Prince wherever he looked for a near relative, he found a heroine of Orange. or a hero. Nor were his ancestors less distinguished. By this time the campaign of 1638 was over, and De They were all fuil of valor and loyalty, and most of them Tarente had no chance of getting his head broken that warriors and a die-hards.” One of them fell, under sixty- year. But, in return for his disappointment, he was included two wounds, at the battle of giants (Marignan). Another in the brilliant company that escorted Prince William of was "the great cavalier without reproach;” the man who Orange to be married in England. “ We set out to embark won more victories, and uttered more brilliant epigrams, at Hoelvoetsluys,” writes he; but the contrary winds comthan any of his time; he who coined the glorious phrasc, pelled us to pause at the Brille. After lingering there for " A field of battle in a just cause is the bed of honor ; two weary days, I could not refrain from returning to bid a and who, closing his career as a soldier should, died at the second farewell to Mademoiselle d'Orange. Hardly, howage of sixty-five, while interposing his breast between his ever, had I reached the Hague, than the wind changed, and king and the German lances on the field, where France lost I was obliged to retrace my path at full speed. Setting out every thing but reputation.

at daybreak, I soon reached Maaslandsluys, a place separatIt was natural that the child of such a race should mani- ed from the Brille by an arm of the sea, which, at ordinary fest the aspirations of a warrior at an early age. But the times, may be crossed in about three-quarters of an hour. Prince of Tarente was a youth of feeble constitution, and Here I found only one small boat, which was manned by a an only son besides. Instead, then, of acceding to his single seaman. The sea was rough, and the craft crazy; wishes, his parents retained him in leading-strings much but, having no choice, I embarked with Beaugendre, my longer than was customary. At the age of eighteen, when sole attendant on that occasion. A short distance from the court and camp were thronged with youths no older than shore the waves ran so high that the boatman, though himself, some of whom had already begun to play a bril- accustomed to these waters from infancy, grew apprehenliant part, he was still under the control of a tutor, and sive, and proposed to return. But, being anxious to reach treated in all respects like a school-boy. Wearied of this Hoelvoetsluys before the fleet put to sea, I would not hear thraldom, which to him seemed positively ignominious, he of this, and we continued our course. The wind increased determined to abscond; and early in 1638 he found an every instant, until it blew a violent storm; the boat opportunity. Both parents were absent, the duke in one became altogether unmanageable, and we were in great of his governments, and the duchess in attendance on the danger. Giving us up for lost, our Dutchman began to queen; while he was left with his tutor in Paris. Money howl with all his might, and continued to do so until he however, was necessary; and he, the heir of countless could howl no longer. He then very calmly lowered the millions, had not a sou. But from this difficulty he was ex- sail, and allowed the skiff to drift. How we kept afloat in tricated by his valet, Roussel, whom he had taken into his that tumult of winds and waters is more than I can conconfidence, and who contrived to scrape together one hun- ceive. Myself and my attendant fell on our knees, and our

With this small sum in their pockets, and a howling companion, who hardly knew what he did, followed bundle on each of their shoulders, they stole out at night- our example. Having finished my prayer, I made use of the fall, and afoot, looking not unlike a couple of travelling little Flemish I knew to remind the boatman, who was artisans. Two leagues from Paris they took post for nearly helpless with fright, that Providence prefers to aid Dieppe, which they reached next morning; and almost as those who do something for themselves. As a practical

dred crowns.

on us.



comment, I ordered him to spread the sail again, while I took | reply, in the house of the Marquis Vauville (the French the helm. This manoeuvre was not a happy one. I was far ambassador), where D'Harcour repeated it before a large from being an accomplished pilot, and the boat under my company. Next morning we were both placed under arresi, direction bobbed about in the most extraordinary manner. and some censure was passed on my youthful heat." So The wind, however, soon put a period to my nautical dis- terminated our autobiographer's first essay in the art of play, by snapping the mast in two, and dashing the sail down duelling made easy. The second, as we shall see, he found The catastrophe soon followed.

While we were a little sharper. floundering under the sail, the boat upset, and pitched us Family matters drew De Tarente a second time to England, into the water. What happened during the next few in 1639. There he was again attacked by fever; and buivre minutes is a mystery to me. All was dash, splash, darkness, he could recover, the campaigning season was over. On ! and confusion. At last I shook my head clear of the spray, his return to Holland, he embraced Protestantism, which haul and found that we were all three clinging to the same side been the creed of his childhood, and was still that of bis 15 of the boat. Here we floated about, up to the neck in water, mother, and from which, indeed, his father had but recently and expecting every moment to be our last. Beaugendre seceded. We do not, for a moment, question his sincerity on unclasped his mantle, and proposed that we should try to taking this step. Men, however, are easily persuaded when save ourselves by swimming. It was some time before I inclination seconds argument. And Mademoiselle d'Orange could make out what he meant, for the wind blew one-half was a Protestant of the Protestants. of his words out of hearing, and the billows swallowed up He made his debut in war in 1640, much like his Uncle the rest. When I did understand him, I showed him the Turenne; that is, carrying a pike in the ranks. It was the tutility of such a scheme in the midst of a tempest, and so good old custom of the Orange princes thus to train their far, not less than two leagues from the shore. Indeed, it relatives for command by first teaching them to obey; and was only when lifted on the crest of the waves that we could the result was many excellent captains. Nothing of imporcatch a glimpse of the buildings. A sudden gust now tance occurred that year. During the next, the young righted the boat; but before we could get in, another over- Frenchman commanded a regiment of cavalry, and did turned it again. This happened three times over. At service at the siege of Genep. He particularly distinguished length, it resumed and retained its proper position; the wind himself by his strict attention to details; conduct as ubgradually subsided, and in three hours more we reached the fashionable with young soldiers then, as it is now. He, Brille.” The escape was a narrow one.

Still it was an however, had no reason to be dissatisfied with it. After the escape, and De Tarente was rather pleased than otherwise capture of Genep, his regiment occupied an advanced, and that his romantic impulse had led him into so much peril. therefore dangerous, post. For this was peculiarly the era Three or four days afterwards he found himself in London, of great partisan feats, and an isolated corps was always not at all the worse for his ducking,

liable to surprise. The prince was fully aware of his risk. During his stay in the British capital, he involved himself and for four days and nights was unsleeping. Not a stran in a quarrel which was far too characteristic of the period could move in his vicinity without attracting his attentive. to be omitted. The Dutch company was distributed all over Fatigue at length brought on a serious illness; and he rethe city, the young Frenchman being assigned a lodging in tired to Bergues, leaving his major, who was much less vig Arundel House with his principal, while another near rela- lant, in command. Two days afterwards, the Spaniards tive, Count Henry of Nassau, was quartered elsewhere. swooped down on this officer and carried him off, with the The latter, however, not liking his billet, transferred him- greater portion of his regiment. self to Arundel House, where he appropriated an apartment The next campaign was opened by De Tarente with a intended for De Tarente. The latter thus describes what duel, which we shall allow himself to relate: “We were enfollowed :

camped at Rhimberg, when I was challenged by Prince “I remonstrated with Count Henry, who replied with Radzival, whom I had occasionally seen in my visits to the haughtiness. A quarrel ensued, and we drew our swords, queen of Bohemia. The prince was remarkably assiduous but were immediately separated. Monsieur de Brederode in paying court to that royal lady, whom he affected to carried off my antagonist, and I retired to my chamber. regard as his mistress (Elizabeth Stuart was then forts. No sooner had Prince William heard of the dispute than he seven). One day he thought it right to be offended, because sent for us both, and made us promise to forget the past. I, I had taken a place near her which he wished to occupy. however, had no wish that the matter should end thus. I He requested me to surrender it, but with a tone and marconsulted my friend D'Harcour, who was captain in the ner so overbearing that I could not comply. Our dispute regiment of cavalry which Prince Frederick Henry had alarmed the queen, who sought to reconcile us, and even bestowed on me. •This,' said I, “is my first affair of honor; made us embrace in her presence. I was persuaded tha: and I had rather be blamed therein for rashness, than the affair would go no further; but, unfortunately, come praised for circumspection.' D'Harcour replied that he mischievous people spread a report that my countrymen. would be very willing to bear my challenge to Count who were numerous at the Hague, would twist the occur Henry; but that to do so with effect it would be necessary rence, if it remained as it stood, to the glorification of their to await the termination of the festivities, and to find country, and to the detriment of Prince Radzival

. x. another pretext. As to the original subject of quarrel, he sooner had this report reached the prince than he hastene showed me that it would be a mistake to revive it, since I

I accepted his defiance, and it was agreed would thus compel Prince William, who had attempted to that the encounter should take place with swords, about : reconcile us, to take part against me; and in that case I quarter of a league from where we lay. We met, as appoize: must inevitably be excluded from the rejoicings. I thanked ed. D'Harcour, my second, measured the weapons my friend for his advice, and promised to follow it very found that my antagonist's blade was the longer, by at least exactly. On the evening of the wedding-day, I happened to half a foot. The prince immediately offered to exchange meet Count Henry at the house of a lady of quality. There for mine. As I would not agree to this, the question as were many guests present, and a great rush followed when decided by lot, which gave each of us his own weapon, the party broke up. Expecting this, I designedly placed fought on horseback, and the combat was soon over. Idea't myself behind the count. The pressure compelled him to Prince Radzival a thrust which merely pierced his shirt push me rather roughly, but of course quite unintentionally. He replied with another, that would have been as harules It was, however, precisely what I desired. Telling D'Har- had I been better armed. A guard would have arrested cour that I had now the requisite pretext, I described my and turned his stroke; but my sword had none. His point, conduct. He approved of it, and the moment the ceremo- therefore, pierced my wrist, and, running along my arm. nies were over, bore my challenge to the count. The latter

ripped it open right up to the shoulder. I dropped my excused himself, declared that he had not the slightest wish sword and fell. Some of the prince's people raised me, a. to insult me, and flatly refused to fight. He added that he tied

up the wound, while others hurried in search of 3 *** was ready to explain the cause of his refusal, which he geon. Fortunately for me, they had not far to seek. ()* afterwards did in the presence of many. I was waiting bis named La Sage happened to be at hand, and saved my


to the camp.

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