Bell's COURT AND FASHIONABLE MAGAZINE, For NOVEMBER, 1807. BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES OF ILLUSTRIOUS LADIES. The Twenty-fourth Number. HER MAJESTY THE QUEEN OF ETRURIA. MARIA LOUISA JOSEPHINA, the Queen Dowager, Regent of the kingdom of Etruria, was born at Madrid on the 17th of July, 1752, and is the daughter of Charles IV. King of Spain, and of his Queen Louisa Maria Theresa, born a Princess of Parma. She was married to her first cousin, the late King of Etruria, on the 25th of August, 1795. They were both descendants of Philip V. the grandson of Louis XIV. and made by him a King of Spain, and acknowledged as such by England and all other countries by the treaty of Utrecht in 1713. After the series of victories won over the Germans in 1800, the French Government resolved to change the grand duchy of Tuscany into a kingdom, and reward the promptitude with which Spain had made peace by granting the crown of Etruria to a Spanish prince. The treaty of Luneville sanctioned the ascension of the Infant of Spain to the Etrurian throne, and the silence of all the sovereigns of Europe acknowledges the legitimacy of the new monarch's title. entertaining; and in a short time peace and content reigned through the whole kingdom. In 1803 this Princess mourned the loss of her husband. He was a man of a weak mind and constitution, ambitious and timid, superstitious and irresolute, but the mildness of his temper and his untimely death, at the age of thirty-two, caused him to be sincerely regretted. He left a son, Charles Louis II. born on the 22d of December, 1799, and a daughter, born some months after his death. The son succeeded him, and the Queen Dowager was proclaimed Queen Regent during his minority. When Bonaparte had ascended the imperial throne, it is reported that he sent Eugenius de Beauharnais to ask the hand of the royal widow; who returned a polite refusal. Secured from the fear of foreign enemies by the same hand that has overturned and created kingdoms, this Princess dedicates all the blooming hours of her youth to a strict performance of the duties of her station, and all her cares to the prosperity of her subjects and the education of her The virtue and mildness of the royal couple, vanquished the prejudices which their new subjects could not refrain from || children. ORIGINAL COMMUNICATIONS. PAULINA; OR, THE RUSSIAN DAUGHTER. ANOTHER HISTORY OF THE RUSSIAN LADY WHICH WAS INSERTED IN OUR LAST MAGAZINE, AS VERSIFIED BY MR. MERRY. SINCE the foregoing story was written we have discovered a poem on the same subject, by the late Mr. Robert Merry, who published it in in 1787; of which we shall give a copious account, as it has become extremely scarce. It is entitled, "Paulina; or, the Russian Daughter;" and is comprised in a thousand and ten lines, divided into two parts. The motto we have taken as selected by the poet. In the Preface he says:" As the affecting and extraordinary combination of circumstances that overwhelmed the unfortunate Paulina, appeared to me, upon first hearing, not unworthy of the generous sympathy of a British public, 1 caused a simple relation of the same to be printed in a London newspaper, in the month of September, 1783. What impression that account made I know not, but I hope it was not such as to render improper this attempt of treating the subject in verse. And I trust the ensuing pages may in some degree serve to show, that unremitting parental severity tends to excite in youthful minds a fatal terror, which the weakness of nature is unable to encounter, and which oftentimes the maturity of reason and reflection is insufficient to overcome. From this story also we may be taught to consider, that confidence and security are not for mortals; that the most pure of heart, the most noble of sentiment, and the most innocent of intention, are hourly liable to be involved in all the horrors of guilt, infamy, and despair, from the mere operation of human imbecility, and a hapless train of unforeseen events. Several persons of character and distinction in Russia have given testimony to the reality of the transactions which I have endeavoured to describe, and which happened in a remote part of that extensive empire." The story in the poem varies from that already given. We shall tell part of it in the Poet's own words, with a few lines in prose necessary to connect the selections, which also include the variations. "For twice nine summers had the matron's care One moonlight evening, whilst walking on the terrace, she heard a plaintive love-song addressed to her in a manly voice. "The youth advanc'd before th' astonish'd maid; This she perceived more distinctly as he ap proached the terrace, by means of the light in her chamber. She finds him to be her lover, Mar. kof. Whilst she was conversing with him a storm arises. "The argent moon retires, And in a cloud collects her mimic fires; Confusion reigns, and Terror's monster form Stalks in the uproar of the coming storm, His arrowy sleet the genius of the pole Shoots furious forth, and mutt'ring thunders roll, While with red glance his eye-balls flash around, And the broad lustre glows upon the ground; The forest groans, and every beast of prey Hies to his wonted covert far away; The startled peasant shudd'ring in his bed Doubts the weak structure of th' uncertain shed." She invites him in : "Seek, if thou canst, a welcome shelter here, He climbs a spreading fir-tree, and from its branches "Springs to Paulina's arms, and clasps her round, Sooths with a fond respect her wak'ning fears, And on her white hand melts in rapt'rous tears, Tells of the long-felt pangs that tore his breast, Days mark'd with woe, and nights unknown to rest. His eyes o'er all her timid beauties rove In sweet delirium of extatic love; His plighted faith with solemn oaths he gives This concludes the first part; the second begins "Thou torment of my life, Thou living semblance of my hated wife, He continues to scold and threaten the young lady ull he is tired, and then leaves her.-The poet now invokes his Muse: "Come now, distracted Muse Inspire my sorr'wing yerse, which strives to show Now on her terrace wildly rushing forth She madly kneels, and gives th' unanswer'd kiss; She doubts, she loves, she hopes, and faints be- At dawn of day she goes to seek the porter, who is thus described : "Dark was his brow, and not one gleam of grace But half-form'd gray usurp'd a sallow red; She implores relief, and tries to engage him to bear the body away and inter it. He, far from being moved by her supplications and her distress, threatens to acquaint her father immedi⚫ ately with the terrible event, and conclude "Unless thou willing com'st my bed to share, Unless thou yield'st the treasure of thy charms To the warm transport of these longing arms." The shuddering maid faints, and the villain. bears the hapless victim to his bed. He afterwards "Bore Alexis to a neighb'ring wood, Stabb'd his cold heart, and stain'd the wound with blood; There, welt'ring in the wind, the youth he laid, Gg The young, the vain, the hideous, and the old, At last she is dragged by the inhuman slave to a dwelling, Then on her knees in agony of sighs, "Where twelve mean wretches drain'd the frantic If thou canst pity those who suffer here bowl, Of manners rude, and infamous of soul, Barren of sentiment and feeling too, The settled sorrow of the daily tear, To pass my life in penitence and pray'r, To such as these the meek Paulina borne, "And drunkenness, than death more dire to view, hurl'd For I will suffer what just fate may give, Ten lines more conclude the poem; and at the end is the following note:-" It may perhaps not be uninteresting to the curious to know, that the whole of the above related transaction was discovered by means of the wife of Paulina's Confessor; * and that in consequence the magnanimous Catharine II. took the unfortunate Now comes the catastrophe, ushered in by the girl under her protection, and procured her the following reflection: "Ah! who among the best can ever know Paulina seizes a dagger from the porter's belt, “And with unerring stroke around, In every heart fix'd deep the vengeful wound; Death triumph'd there, while from each villain's side The ebbing purple pour'd a smoky tide. necessary retirement in a convent which she ardently desired." conse. We know not from what sources the poet has taken his story. The improbability of Paulina's living with a brutal slave, without the knowledge of her father, is striking; and the narrative of such a young girl's assassinating thirteen drunken Russian peasants with impunity, borders so nearly on impossibility, that it is incredible; quently the pity excited by the former part of the narrative is greatly enfeebled, if not lost in dis gust. The murder of her tyrant alone, would have been as effectual for her deliverance, and it may perhaps be allowed that the poet had not the least occasion for a dozen more barbarians, and that the chaste story as we have given it in prose, would have been far preferable for the subject of the poem. Of the poetry the reader will be able to judge, as our extracts amount to onefifth of the whole work. * Confessors have no wives, and it is death to reveal a confession, or rather was so at that time, NOTE OF THE EDITOR. ADDITIONS TO THE NATURAL HISTORY OF CERTAIN ANIMALS. [Concluded from Page 181.] BEARS. A FRENCH literary gentleman, a member of the legislature, a few years ago spent some months in travelling among the Pyrenean moun tains. He gives the following account of the information he received from one of the mountaineers, whose habitation was near the Spanish frontiers: "I was seated near our host. His ingenousness, his good sense, his natural strength of mind, superior to all rules of art, charmed us greatly, and we contracted our circle that we might lose none of his tales; for we love them at all ages, so much that we even tell them to ourselves, and we frequently indulge in waking dreams. Oinne Humanum genus est avidum nimis auricularum. It Our attention animated him, especially when he was giving us the history of sorcerers. may be permitted to believe in them, in an abode where every thing appears to be supernatural; where Spanish superstition, descended from the neighbouring mountains, never ceases to renew its fatal impressions. From sorcerers he turned to bears, his terrible countrymen, as he called them, but a good sort of people enough when they are not molested. 46 Look," says he, "it was in the middle of that peak, as strait as a taper, and which you may perceive above the church. Well, it will soon be forty years that I went thither as usual, completely armed. I was at that time gay, contented, and above all very resolute. Not a yzard,* no wolf, no bear; in a word, nothing. Says I to myself this must be another time. I had better go home; when, on turning a corner I suddenly found myself nose to nose opposite to an enormous bear, much larger than myself. The fellow, how he looked! And his fine skin! I still regret it. Notwithstanding my surprise and my position, for we were on a cornice (this is a ledge four or five feet broad, cut out of the slope of a mountain; so that on one side is an almost per * A species of chamois; it avoids the sunshine, and only delights in the midst of snow and ice. When young it is fond of man, caresses him, and follows him like a dog. pendicular rock, and on the other an unfathomable abyss.) I should have come off well if he had been alone. He was followed by his female, and two young ones, who trotted already very prettily. I prayed to our Lady for succour! and then, hiding my gun in order not to scare them, I stood still with my back flat against the rock, to give them room to pass. The great bear, who was eating me up with his eyes, whilst I durst not even look at him, instead of turning back, came and planted himself on my right, and his female clapt herself on my left, and a fine pair of guardians I had! In the mean time the two little ones passed by, and the two bears followed them; but looking sullenly behind them till they lost sight of me. It is enough for me to say I escaped with the fright. Past evil is only a dream." This tacit pact between man and brute, in such a situation, appeared very singular and remarkable to us all. One of the company asserted that the sudden apprehension of any calamity, is the greatest mediator which nature has granted us to terminate our dissentions. I maintain, added he, that fear and misfortune always soften the most ferocious beings, and that on the contrary, happy people who are too much so, are not to be approached nearer than we should Mount Vesuvius or Mount Etna in flames. The old man then resumed his discourse, as follows: "You are to know how those who hunt bears manage the matter; for a gun shot is of very little consequence. The champion who ventures to undertake this sort of combat, is provided with a long poniard, and covers his breast and back with three sheepskins, one over the other, and the thick woolly sides outwards. When he has found the bear, and is struggling with it, whilst it squeeses him with its fore paws, tries to smother him, and to tear him to pieces with its claws; he, with his left arm begins with fixing its head close to his shoulders, to avoid being devoured; then, with his other hand he plunges his poniard into the loins of the beast, which vainly howls and roars, not being able to bite, and stabs it, till it falls at his feet through loss of blood, or conquered by pain. "Now, hearken, I shall tell you about the Hercules of the Pyrenées, whom I shall call Michael. He had a son who began to beat about these mountains, and who had already killed wolves, and brought home yzards. He longed to bring home a bear, but he durst not attempt it alone. |