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AN OLD LOVE LETTER.
The flying years, the silent years,
Swept o’er this safely hidden page,
Till Time, that deep sunk mystery clears,
Gives me the dateless heritage.
Where beat the heart, where burst the
brain,
That all this pain and passion felt ?
Gn leaves defaced by mold and stain
The secret of a life is spelt.
Why rashly lift, why rudely rend,
The softening veil that Death and
Time,
Conspiring Life with Art to blend,
Hava, hung between her soul and
Enough to know, enough to tell
That one immortal bliss endures ;
The love these ardent words reveal
May haply mirror mine —or yours,
—Margaret Crosby in Scribner.
THE GREATEST OF THE KOMINS.
PART THIRD.
You have no do doubu heard fre
quent mention of “Cesar crossing the
Rubicon.”
Well, the Rubicon was a small
River which lay between the Prov
ince where Cesar was Governor and
the Roman territory which adjoined
it on the East. While he was in his
own Province he had a legal right to
lead his army wherever he saw fit.
But it was treason for him or any
other Governor to go outside of his
Province and into any other Roman
territory.
Cesar crossed the Rubicon because
it was about the only way to keep
Pompey from crossing him.
As you were told in last week’s
article, Cesar and Pompey each had
an army. Cesar was near the bor
der of France, while Pompey was at
Rome. Cesar had on his side, in the
struggle which was about to com
mence, the troops which had so often
followed him to victory and which
were devoted to him. Most of the
common people also sympathized with
him. To the heart of the “rag-tag
and bob-tail” Cesar was very dear.
They reraember.ed how he had fought
to give them equal rights under the
Law. Those officers at Rome called
Tribunes of the People were also on
his side. One of them was the cele
brated Marc Antony. The other
was a gilded young rascal named
Curio. Cesar had bought him over
by a tremenduous bribe, and he had
been for a long while a mere tool of
Cesar’s at Rome.
On Pompey’s side was his army,
composed mostly of men who had
not done much fighting. Then he
had the Senate and the aristocracy
generally; also the Public Treasures
and the Government’s sanction to
raise more troops and to compel
Cesar to knock under.
Before the Civil War actually be
gan, Cesar made every effort which
could be made to avoid it. He did
not wish to put himself into the
power of men whom he knew were
intent on his ruin, but he did wish to
save bloodshed if possible. Pompey
wanted Cesar to disband his troops
and come to Rome, where he would
be helpless against Pompey and his
army. In reply to this, Cesar said
that Pompey had no right to be in
Rome with troops; that he ought to
be in Spain which was his Province.
This was quite true.
Cesar therefore proposed that both
he and Pompey should be required
to disband their troops at the same
time. Thus neither would have any
advantage over the other. Pompey
refused, although the Senate so or
dered.
Then Cesar wrote his famous let
ter to the Roman Senate, which
Curio read in open Session. In this
letter Cesar withdrew his demands
that Pompey should go to his Prov
ince and that he should disband his
armv. Cesar stated his own willing
ness to dismiss all his troops but one
Legion, and to resign his Province, if
the Senate would assign him the
Government of a much smaller Prov
ince in Italy. The Senate refused to
listen to the proposition at all.
They passed a decree that Cesar
must immediately resign his Prov
ince, disband his troops or be held a
Traitor.
The Tribunes of the People had a
legal right to veto this law and thus
kill it. Curio and Marc Antony did
so. The Senators were so angry
with them for this that they had to
run for their lives. The high toned
Senators wanted to kill them for ex
ercising their plain legal right.
Disguised as slaves, the two Tri
bunes of the People escaped from
PEOPLE’S PARTY PAPER. ATLANTA. GEORGIA, ITDAY, JANUARY 27. 1893.
Rome and went to Cesar’s camp.
They told him what had occurred.
Cesar already knew that even pre
vious to this outrage, the Consuls at
Rome had gone to Pompey, told him
to raise an army against Cesar and
to commence the War.
This being the case, Cesar decided
to act! He called out his troops,
explained how his enemies had de
clared war upon him and asked them
’whether they would defend him.
Their reply was a pledge of devo
tion and a demand to be led forward.
Cesar waited not a moment, but set
his feet toward Rome.
On the night of December 16, fifty
years before Christ was born, the
Thirteenth Legion crossed the Rubi
con with Cesar at its head, and the
Civil War was begun.
Pompey, after all his bluster, did
not seem to be ready. llis troops
were not concentrated and he seemed
to have no plan of defence. Cesar’s
dash, appeared to unnerve him. He
gave up Rome almost at the very
start and began to retreat towards
the Sea.
On the other hand, the great Pop
ulist Leader came on like a storm.
He took one town after another. He
treated his captive with the most
winning kindness, and thus made
friends as he marched. He seemed
to take no sleep and no rest. He
cut off Pompey’s recruits; won them
over to join his own army; check
mated every move of Pompey’s gen
erals ; kept his own soldiers in the
best of spirits, published abroad his
intention to treat those who submit
ted to him with compassion, and
even sent messengers to Pompey
asking for a settlement of the whole
trouble.
Pompey would not agree to this,
and so the war went on.
Cesar pushed his lines nearer and
nearer to Rome, and finally entered
it. He found there the Public Treas
ures which Pompey had left in the
hurry of his flight. The officer who
had them in charge locked the doors
and refused to surrender the money.
The Law did not allow him to give
them up in that way. Cesar re
marked that laws did not amount to
much in such squally times as these,
and ordered his men to break the
door down. The Treasurer offered
resistance. Cesar drew his sword
and threatened to kill him, saying
“Young man, I would rather do it
than to say it.”
Such language as this was extreme
ly discouraging and the Treasurer
went away from there.
You must not suppose that Cesar
took this money for his ow r n use.
As a matter of fact, he spent all of it
in paying the soldier a.
Pompey left Italy. He took his
troops across the Sea to Greece and
there prepared to -withstand Cesar’s
attack.
After attending to the affairs of
Rome, and after putting down Pom
pery’s friends in Spain, Cesar fol
lowed Pompey.
The two armies confronted one
another a long time. Pompey’s was
much the larger and they had every
comfort they could wish because
their ships commanded the sea and
could bring supplies.
Cesar’s troops, on- the other hand,
suffered greatly for food. They had
to live partly on roots ■which they
dug from the ground.
In the opening fights Pompey got
the best of it. Cesar’s army was
nearly ruined. He himself said that
if Pompey had known how to follow
up his advantages he ■would have
carried the day.
Cesar had to leave his camp and
retreat further back into the countrf.
Pompey followed, certain of vic
tory. At last the two armies drew
up, fancying each other at Pharsalus.
For several days each seemed to
wait for the other to begin. But the
aristocrats who were with Pompey
were so sure of crushing Cesar that
they had big disputes as to how they
should divide the offices at Rome
and the property of Cesar’s gen
erals, which of course they would
confiscate.
At last the day of battle came.
In each army the Priests slew the
victims of the sacrifice and scruti
nized their entrails. Neither Cesar
nor Pompey, I think, had the
slightest faith in any such nonsense,
but it is a historical fact that they
had it done, all the same. They
knew it would have a big effect on
the troops if the Priest said that
after calmly considering all the evi
dence found in the interior of the
calf, or lamb, or fowl, or whatever
animal they split open, he gave it as
his opinion that they would win that
fight—if they fought hard enough.
To send the soldiers into battle with
out mental comfort of this sort would
have been a neglect of time-hon
ored custom to an extent which
human nature could not stand. It
would have been revolutionary. As
much as the soldiers loved Cesar,
and as willing as they were to fight
for him; still it was implid in the
contract that they should always be
told what some animal thought
about it, in his stomach, before they
waded in.
To show you that what I say on
this curious subject is true, I quote
you the language of Plutarch, the
Historian. He is speaking of the
morning of the Battlie of Pharsalus:
While he was performing a purifying
sacrifice for the aimy, as soon as he had
sacrificed the first victim, the Soothsayer
(or Priest) said that within three days
there would be a decisive battle with the
enemy. Upon Cesar asking him if he
saw any favorable signs in the victims as
to the result of the battle also, he re
plied, ‘‘You can answer that better for
yourself; the gods indicate a great
change in the actual state of things to a
contrary state, so that if you think your
self prosperous now, expect reverses;
but if you do not, expect a better.”
This valuable chunk of wisdom
could not have been fonnd in any
place more congenial to its nature
than the inside of a calf. It was
like the prediction of the old man in
Lincoln county just before the fight
described in Georgia Scenes: “You
watch Billy Stallings at the going
in and Bob Durham at the coming
out.”
Each side claimed that it meant
victory for them.
After the Priest had delivered
himself of the above prediction,
with a very solemn countenance, and
the soldiers had time to chew on it
sufficiently, the battle commenced.
It was stubbornly fought, but Cesar
carried everything before him. Mili
tary critics say that his handling of
the troops was perfect,- while Pom
pey blundered from start to finish.
All I know about it is that Cesar won
the fight. If Pompey had won it,
the same military critics would per
haps have praised his management
and censured Cesar’s. It is one of
the easiest things in the world to
fight a battle when you are not
there. At least I have heard so.
Managing an army on paper is al
most as easy as farming on paper.
It is said that Pompey’s cavalry
was mostly made up of wealthy dan
dies and dudes from Rome who
were very fond of their good looks.
Cessar told his cavalrymen to try to
punch these young men in the face
with long speers so as to spoil their
beauty. Plutarch says the dandies
just couldn’t stand it. They turned
their pretty faces aside to escape the
Joe Brown pikes of Cesar’s men,
held up their shields in front to
ward off the blows, and thus threw
their ranks into confusion. Then
they broke and ran. Thus they cre
ated a panic and brought defeat on
the whole army.
Pompey fled from the field of bat
tle. He seems to have lost heart at
the first reverse. In this he showed
the real point in which he was so
much, less a hero than Cesar. When
ever Cesar was worsted in politics or
war he grew more cool, more earnest,
more patient, and vastly more dan
gerous. The back-set aroused him.
All the lion in his nature rose to
action in the hour of trial and gloom,
when weaker natures would have
collapsed.
Cesar was very frequently foiled
in politics; very frequently repulsed
in war; very frequently brought to
the very brink of ruin. A moment’s
loss of nerve would have been fatal
to him on at least a dozen different
occasions in his stormy life. But no
such weakness ever came to him.
Great man that he was, he looked
over and beyond the gathering
clouds of the present, however
threatening, and gazed steadily
ahead to the sunlit fields which true
courage and true fortitude and true
ambition can always see and always
reach.
In the deepest of the gloom of
defeat he was nobly constant to his
purpose, his creed, his mission; and
the wavering lines of the struggling
legions always fell into order again
and went back to the fight more re
solute than ever when the steady
hand of this born leader of men
caught up the colors and sent ring
ing down the line the rallying call of
“ Comrades, follow me ! ”
In Gaul, in Spain, in Britain, in
Egypt, in Africa, in Italy, he accom
plished marvels with the slenderest
means. Out of mere pluck, mere
holding-on, mere desperate determin
ation not to give up, he again and
again turned disaster into triumph;
failure into success; cloud into sun
shine. In doing great things from
small beginnings, the world never
did hold a match for Cesar. And
next to his calm, clear common sense,
his greatest quality was pluck.
Now, Pompey was not built that
way at all. He caved in at the very
first reverse. As soon as his lines
broke at Pharsalus, he shouldered
himself and trotted right off. He
outran all his troops. He left them
to be cooped up and captured by
Cesar while he himself galloped
straight for the sea-shore and got on
board one of his ships.
He had a large fleet on this Sea
(the Mediterranean), and should have
joined it and then gone to one of his
armies. He had large forces both in
Africa and Spain. But he lost his
head entirely, and put out in the op
posite direction. He sailed to Mity
lene, where he took his wife, Cor
nelia, on board, and after sailing about
for some days trying to make up his
mind what to do, he decided to make
for Egypt.
At this time a war was going on
in that country between King Pto
lemy and his sister, Cleopatra. Pom
pey sent messengers to Ptolemy, an
nouncing his arrival and asking pro
tection. He was invited to come
ashore. His wife suspected danger
and urged him not to go. He, how
ever, got in a boat and was rowed to
land. As he was about to step out
he was stabbed to death by murder
ers in the employ of Ptolemy. One of
these was an old officer of Pompey
who had served with him in the East
ern wars. These despicable men had
taken Pompey into their own boat
pretending to receive him as a Guest-
Pompey died like a brave man.
Seeing that escape was impossible,
and that death had come, he drew
his mantle over his face and made no
resistance while his old comrade in
arms helped to cut him down. It
was most cruel. Ancient history has
no sadder page. A few days before
this, the name of Pompey the Great
was mighty in all the East.- Kings
and Princes and Peoples bowed be
fore him. The victories of twenty
years had solidified his fame. Yet
one lost fight—and all was gone.
Cities closed their gates to him, time
servers fled his failing cause, the very
Seas he had sailed with the unlimit
ed powers that Rome had put in his
hands to clear it of Pirates, witnessed
his flight as a hunted fugitive—seek
ing where he might find shelter.
And even the sacred character of
Guest, the welcomed guest, could not
save him from assassination :—under
the eye* of his shrieking wife I
When the fatal work was done and
the body of Pompey lay in blood on
the sands of the beach, the vessel
which bore Cornelia sailed away and
escaped the Egyptian pursuers.
The Murderers cut off the head of
Pompey and carried it away. The
body, they left on the shore.
One of Pompey’s servants staid by
till the people who had gathered to
gaze on it went away; and then
washed it in th a sea and began to
gather wood to burn it, —according
to Roman, custom.
While so engaged, an old man who
had once served under Pompey, and
loved him, came up and asked leave
to aid in the pious task.
Thus these two (one a servant and
the other a poor old veteran of the
wars), on the lonely beach of the Sea,
reduced to ashes the mangled and
abandoned body of Pompey the
Great:—the leader of the Roman
Aristocrats.
Cesar soon arrived. He had fol
lowed swiftly after the fugitive. Two
of the assassins, thinking to please
Cesar, brought him Pompey’s head.
He turned away from it with horror,
and when he was handed Pompey’s
signet ring torn from the lifeless finger
of his once friend, son-in-law and
rival, he burst into tears.
He put two of the infamous mur
derers to death at once. The other
escaped but was afterwards executed
by Brutus.
Cornelia, at a later date, had the
ashes of Pompey carried to his coun
try home, near Rome, and there
buried.
THE MOTHER OF NAPOLEON.
Baron Larrey’s Interesting Book About
an Interesting Family.
Correspondent New York World,
Paris, Jan. 7. “Mme. Mere”
(Napoleon’s Mater), by Baron Lar
rey, is the book which attracts most
attention this week. Baron Larrey,
as son of the great surgeon of Napo
leon I, is better prepared than any
other to write a history of the mother
of the greatest man in modern his
tory, because from his childhood he
has collected documents and pre-
pared notes. Besides, Baron Lar
rey has the advantage of having ’
been personally acquainted with
Letitia Ramolino Bonaparte, as in
1834, with his father, he visited
Mme. Mere in the Palazzo, Rinuc
cini, her home in Rome.
Those who are familiar with
David’s marvellous painting called
“Coronation of Josephine,” remem
ber the astonished, triumphant ex
pression the artist has given to
Napoleon’s mother; and certainly
her life was one succession of tri
umphs and astonishments.
Marie Letitia Ramolino married
Charles Bonaparte at Ajaccio, Cor
sica, and became the mother of
thirteen children; when her hus
band died, eight of these children
were living. An insurrection drove
them from their home, and with ab
solutely nothing, except the clothes
they -wore, Letitia Bonaparte and
her children arrived at Marseilles.
However, she was a brave woman,
and Napoleon at Saint Helena said,
“My mother had a man’s head on a
woman’s body.”
Those who saw their more than
modest home at that time could
never have dreamed that each mem
ber of that family would some day
wear a crown. The future Empress
mother spun from early dawn till
late at night, while Caroline, the fu
ture Queen of Naples, did the mar
keting ; Elisa, the future Queen of
Etruria, kept the accounts, and Pau
line, who was to become Princess
Borghese, swept and dusted the
house. Their destinies were in the
hands of a young man, thin and
small, who was placed near the can
non at the seige of Toulon. The
port was ceded to the English, but
the unknown young man re-captured
the town amid cries of “Vive la Re
publique.” From that day fortune
took him by the hand and led him
from victory to victory, until she
placed him on a throne. That young
man was the youngest son of the
widow, who could hardly buy bread
for her children.
I have counted among my friends
several members of the Bonaparte
family, and from them I have heard
of the astonishment displayed by
Napoleon’s mother when she real
ized the change in her position. She
who had lived in a poor cottage had
a palace; she who had always walked
found coaches and proud-stepping
horses at her disposal; she who had
never known the luxury of a servant
was suddenly surrounded by cham
berlains; she who had worried about
money to buy bread was allowed
1,000,000 francs a year for her ex
penses. Is it any wonder that she
was astonished, feared it was a
dream and could not continue ?
Pauline, who was the tease of
the family, delighted in going
about from shop to shop, order
ing jewels and gowns in the name
of her mother, merely for the pleas
ure of hearing the Corsican say in
her patois, because she never really
learned French :
“Pauline, do not buy anything
more; you spend too much money.”
Nothing made Napoleon more
furious than to hear his mother’s
objections to spendir g money, be
cause he wished every member of
his family to behave as though they
had always been accustomed to luxu
ries. The poor mother felt that she
must economize, and Napoleon said
continually :
“Spend ; I’ll give you a million to
spend.”
“In that case, sire, give me two,
for I must save one.”
And when Napoleon was out of
hearing she would explain why she
must economize.
“I must keep something to buy
bread for all these kings some day.”
And after the battle of Waterloo she
went to Rome, aud there, with the
million and a half she had saved,
Mme. Mere supported all her ex
kings and queens. Poor Mme. Mere!
One of her favorite phrases in the
days of her splendor, was, “Pourvu
que cela doure.” (Provided it lasts.)
She had the presentment that the
end must come; she was very fond
of her children, and each one went
to her with an account of domestic
troubles. And what trouble there
Geo. J. Fargo,
Furniture, Carpets, Rugs, Mattings,
WALL PAPER,
Household Decorations
AND BABY CARRIAGES.
60 3 BROAD ST., AUGUSA, GA.
You are invited to call and examine my large line of CARPETS and
FURNITURE and HOUSEHOLD GOODS now being offered at ROCK
BOTTOM PRICES.
Read the list and see if there is anything you need. If you cannot call,
write for samples and prices.
Furniture, Mohair Chairs, Blacking Cases,
Carpets, Furniture Covering, Tables,
Mattings, Pillows, Bed Lounges,
Oilcloths, Feathers, Rattan Lounges,
Wall Paper, Cotton & Wool Mattresses, Lawn Settees,
Smyrna Rugs, Hair Mattresses, Iron Beds,
Oil Cloth Mats, - Dusters, Secretaries,
Cocoa Mais, Gimps, Folding Beds,
Wire Mats, Fringes, China Closets,
Shades, Cocoa Matting, Mantel Tops,
Crumb Cloths, Springs, Hat Racks,
Easels, Cradles, Cribs, Parlor Suites,
Screens, Safes, Bedroom Suites,
Lace Curtains, What-Nots, Diningroom Suites,
Portieres, Bedsteads, Buffets,
Curtain Poles, Piazza Rockers, Sideboards,
Fancy Rockers, Chairs, Mosquito Nets,
Fancy Chairs, Bureaus, Awnings and
Brackets, Washstands, Baby Carriages.
And Everything usually found in a first-class establishment of the kind.
GEORGE J. FARGO, 603 Broad street, Augusta, Georgia.
was! Napoleon repudiated Jose
phine, he tried to break the marriage
of Lucien, he succeeded in rendering
null that of Jerome and Miss Patter
son, Louis and Hortense separated
three times, and Pauline was unhap
py with Prince Borghese. The moth
er would have been distracted with
all this had she not taken refuge in
reading. She liked novels and re
ligious books, for Letitia Bonaparte
was pious. One day she said :
“What a family! My son, the
Emperor, is something extraordinary;
he is a marvel, but the lion has claws
and very formidable jaws. He should
never be irritated; Lucien irritates
him because of his marriage, and
Jerome irritates him. And poor
Louis is so badly married! And
Prince Borghese ! Ah! what tears
for me! Do you wish to know
which of my children 1 love the best?
The one who is the most unhappy,
the one who most needs my love.”
And in the end the most unhappy
of her children was the one who had
been the most powerful. Then came
1814 and the banishment to Elba.
A ship one day was seen approach
ing the island. Great was the curi
osity, but all were overjoyed when
Mme. Mere landed and placed her
money at the feet of her son. In
spite of her age and infirmities she
had braved the tempest in order to
console her captive son and perhaps
enable him to regain his lost position.
Mme. Mere lived to be more than
ninety years old, but at the age of
eighty-two cataracts completely de
stroyed her eyesight. In her old ago
her favorite occupation was spinning,
but each day all the important news
papers were read to her. She sur
rounded herself with all that be
longed to Napoleon; her breakfast
was taken on the tablet used by him
at St. Helena, and although in her
rooms each of her children was Rep
resented by bust or portrait, A’a
poleon’s bust dominated jQLfvAg
said Mme. Mere, “My life*
after the death of the .-kuaperot. >
Then I renounced everythin ug 'or- '
ever. \W. ? ;
Mery, who wrote “NapoMeV- in
Egypt,” said that Mme. re
minded him of “Niobe dying Tn her
dying sons.” And Baron LarVes says,
“When I saw portraits and busts of
her children by all the great autists
of the time I thought they seamed
grouped in advance about Mere to
form, at the supreme hour of her ob
sequies, a resuscitated cortege for
this illustrious mother of Napoleon.”
In her youth Mme. Mere had a
cameo profile—broad, prominent fore
head, large eyes, long nose, exquis
itely chiseled lips and a swan-line
throat.
In her old age her eyes, once black,
were gray and opake, because of the
double cataract, but her cheeks had
very few wrinkles, and her lips, al
though expressing sadness, were well
cut. Throughout her life Mme. Mere
was in appearance the typical Roman
Empress, but as she liked neither
balls nor grand receptions nor music
nor the theatres, Mme. Mere was de
cidedly out of place at a gay court
like that of Napoleon.
Princess Mathilde said once, “Os
course I revere Napoleon ; had it not
been for Napoleon, I might have
been selling oranges at Ajaccio.”
I think Mme. Mere would have
been a happier woman, would have
lived a life much more in accordance
with her tastes, had she cultivated
the vine in her little garden at Ajac
cio and seen her children established
near her in happy homes.
Baroness Althea Salvador.
Two Jokelets,
Alice had a bad cold and mamma
prepared her a hot drink. After it
■ was down mamma asked:
I “ Well, was it very hot, dear?”
“Yes, indeed,” replied Alice, look
; ing up with a pair of watery eyes;
“so hot that it makes my eyes
sweat.”
Little Mamie never saw a really
corpulent person till she saw her
uncle John. When she first gazed
upon him she knit her brows in a
frown and said:
“Dear me, Uncle John, what has
vou swallowed ? ”
5
