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About The Montgomery monitor. (Mt. Vernon, Montgomery County, Ga.) 1886-current | View Entire Issue (July 5, 1906)
MAGAZINE SECTION. BERNHARDT’S ART IN DRESS GREAT SPLENDOR OF W ARDROBE OF THE WORLD’S GREATEST ACTRESS. tfuch Study Given to Make Each Gown Adaptable to the Hart Pre - sented. — Artist’s laste and Genius Very Evident. What does Madame Bernhardt wear? Hiring her engagement in this coun •y, this question about the famous tress was asked by every woman able to judge by seeing for herself, 1 the reply is the de ghted ex mation: ‘Her gowns are simply gorgeous— ey are a part of her.” In the many plays presented. Bern irdt has a.i oppo unity of displaying great variety of dresses, and thou * ands of women who have packed the arge theatres at every performance tvhereever she appeared, have stared at them in wonder, recognizing not only their perfect adaptation to the part presented, but also how much of Bernhardt's own taste and genius there was in them. HER GENIUS FOR "SIGN. What is it? The gift displayed in this particular, is as characteristic of the woman as any other of the count less details which go to make her the public idol of all lands. Even those who did not understand the spoken language of the play, were full well able to comprehend that of the silk, satin and lace facing them over the flaming footlights. This artist has demonstrated to thousands, that a gown may be superior in lines and construc tion to the flimsy models sent over each year from Paris for our slavish following. Street clothes, of course, demand a certain amount of conven tionality', in order not to make the wearer conspicuous, but since the Bernhardt engagement in their respec tive fashion centers, not a few devisers of costumes have declared their inten tion of taking indoor styles more ser iously. HER EXAMPLE FOLLOWED. For those women whose incomes ad mit of certain and extravagant expend iture for clothes, it is just now consid ered wonderfully ‘smart” to furnish their own dressmakers and tailors with water-color sketches of models, speci ally drawn for them by famous artists, these sketches being used solely for their own particular gowns. With the stage for a precedent, these fashionable dames have feund it convenient to adopt its methods. For those who can not indulge in this fad, theater-going MADAME SARAH BERNHARDT. In Costume Worn in Her Damons "Camille" Ball-room Scene. .-sump* an added phase of enjoyment to womankind. Sara Bernhardt’s crea tions are curiously interesting from the point of view that they serve as an ad vance courier of what may be accom plished by women who effect the hour glass figure as that demanded by fash ion purveyors. Her carriage is lofty, her chest is high, her waist line ample, and her head well poised—quite the reverse, you will observe from the figure usually attributed to French women. But how unfettered is Bern hardt’s every action, and how splendid her movements! In other words, she has mastered so absolutely the art of dressing well, that once clothed, she is utterly oblivious of her adornments. A UNIQUE INNOVATION Novel indeed is the hip swathing o? all Mme. Bernhardt’s gowns and all her frocks are set up on classical lines. The bodices show waist lines either below her natural bust or well down on her abdomen, preferably the latter! style, as it gives her body that hygi-1 enic poise which every woman’s better! The Montgomery Monitor. nature knows to be its proper setting for prolonged activity. To demonstrate how Mme. Bern hardt manages to make this audaci ous deviation from fashion's dictates attractive, it is well to say that she had specially designed a cuirass over which she has her maid wind yards of soft ribbon which is Anally tied in front with an ornamental bow and long streamer ends. This style is especially adapted to her, as it makes her appear taller, a point well worthy of imitation! On this particular gown the hip swath ing ends in pailletted stole ends, drip ping with gold fringe. Her tiny feet are encased in marvelously fitting slip pers of cloth of gold. WONDERFUL BREAKFAST ROBE. The robe worn in the breakfast scene in “Magda” is worthy of study. It is a silver-encrusted lace creation over pastel blue, set up with wide shoulders and a swathing of pale blue ribbon, ending in large rosettes with stole ends in front. A uniq; but char acter-lending touch is a miniature Em pire stole —merely a patted line of priceless sable, which gives the frock, in its Empire draping, the much need ed long straight lines from neck to hem. The sleeves, too, which are lace puffs, with forearms of transparent lace, show pale blue bracelets at their division, made visible only by the art ist’s gestures, a subtle touch, but very pleasing. COSTUMES WORN IN “CAMILLE.” Ravishing, indeed, are her “Camille” dresses! The first mystery is in sil ver strewn gauze, wrought with a lat tice work of pink ribbon embroidery near the flare at the foot, this outer work of art being fashioned over let tuce green satin souplA The hip swathing and stole ends are in the same tone, and she wears with extra ordinary grace a frosty pelerine of pale green chiffon, decorated with fetching clusters of blush roses. Another of the ‘‘Camille’’ frocks re veals the French dressmaker’s pow'er of detail. The material is lustrous white satin, with raised embroidery in variegated pink flowers with green foliage—the corsage resplendent with well set gems. Another change to which she treats her audience in “Camille” is a gorge ous half-fitting robe of white lace — semi-fitting princess is this model, the lace flecked "with reddish gold figures, seemingly woven into the texture. Pale pink is the foundation, as is also the hip lining. HER “ANGELO” COSTUME. In “Angelo,” Mme. Bernhardt’s dress, an Italian princess costume, is fashioned front gorgeous gold brocade. It is set up on short-waisted, half-fitted bodice lines, with t.ne long sweeping folds of the skirt attached. The mater ial is so draped as to present an unbro ken straight front, from the tucker decorated corsage to the foot line. Beautifully adjusted leg-of-mutton sleeves of gold brocade meet fitted fore arm coverings of cloth of gold, the lat ter extending in shaped circular flares, well drawn down over the knuckles, ending just a touch of uching to soften the effect. A classic drapery of gobelin blue crepe, deftly touched with embroidery of deeper tone, accentuates the beauty of thp ensemble. This cloak hangs in long straight lines over the gown, be ing but looseiv caught together at the sides with tapestry blue cords and tas sels With this is worn a dog collar of pearls. Other feminine accessories, unite out of the ordinary are the jewel-studded ; doth-of-gold chatelaine bag. stj«nended ! on a long, dangling gold chain, and : several plain linked gold chains worn ! in festoons over the corsage MOUNT VERNON. GEORGIA. THURSDAV. ji’LY 5. 1906. JULY SECOND THE DAY GOVERNMENT HISTORIAN SAYS REAL INDEPENDENCE IS NOT THE FOURTH. Colonies Made Declaration Against England Previous to Drawing His torical Paper.— Final Signing ol Document on August Second. According to the opinions of the latest historical authorities both the school children of by-gone days and those of the present time have been taught incorrectly as to the proper in dependence day of the nation. No one date seems to develop such excitable emotions as does the mention of tiic Fourth of July, but how unattractive would it seem if we were to state that the second of July is the day of fire crackers, bombs and Roman candles. And yet, according to Mr. William 11. Michael, Chief Clerk and Historian of the Department of State,, “The real In dependence Day is the second of July.” Since we bent over our childhood histories we have always had an idea that our fathers severed the ties with Great Britain on the Fourth of July, 1776, and we have had word of no less an authority than Thomas Jefferson, author of that hallowed instrument, that the Declaration was signed on that date, on whose anniversary the great father of democracy died. But Mr. Michael says no, and for years he has toiled for his country beneath the same roof which shelters the sacred document; has had the nation’s arch ives at his fingers’ ends. INDEPENDENCE ON JULY 2. “The independence of the United States was declared by resolution on the 2d of July, and the adoption of the form of Declaration on the 4th of July was a secondary matter,” says Mr. Michael. “It is a little strange that more importance was not attached to the 2d of July in connection with the Declaration of Independence. The res olution introduced by Richard Henry Lee, was passed on that day (July 2. 1776). This was really the vital point —the crucial juncture.” The real act of independence, which Mr. Michael has had reproduced in fac simile, was then the Lee resolution declaring: “That these United colonies are, and of right, ought to be, free and inde pendent, states; that, they are absolved from all allegiance 1o the British Crown, and that all political connection between them and the State of Great Britain is, and ought, to be, totally dissolved.” SIGNED AUGUST 2. Concerning the actual date of the Declaration’s signing, Mr. Michael says: “Mr. Jefferson in his account states that all the members present except Mr. Dickinson, signed the Dec laration in the evening of the Fourth of July. The journal shows that no one signed it that, evening except Mr. Hancock and Mr. Thomson. The journal entry is: ‘Signed, John Han cock, President, Attest, Charles Thom son. Secretary.’ * * * On August, 2, the Declaration, as engrossed under the order of Congress, was signed by all of the members of Congress present.” What really did happen on July 4, of that year of years was the final adoption of a draft of the “form of announcing the fact to the world” that independence had been decreed two days before. Jefferson had writ ten this draft, in his Philadelphia apartments, consisting of a ready-fur nished parlor and bedroom in the new brick house of Hyman Gratz, at the southwest corner of 7th and Market streets, “on the outskirts of the city.” The Penn National Bank now occupy ing the site of this dwelling, is in the very business heart of Philadelphia. WRITTEN LATE IN JULY. But the “original Declaration,” which all pilgrims to Washington formerly gazed upon in awe and reverence, was not ordered written for more than two weeks after that long but unjustly hallowed July 4. On July 19, Con gress ordered that the Declaration be “fairly engrossed on parchment,” and that, “the same, when engrossed, be signed by every member of Congress.” Some time within the next two weeks the beautiful pen work which thous ands of Americans have since mar veled at and admired was executed upon the great, strip of sheepskin now locked away in the Department of State at Washington. On August 2, 1776, just a month after the real stroke of independence this great, sheepskin was unrolled In the presence of the Continental Con gress, in Independence Hall, with the wording of the corrected draft, it was carefully “compared at, the table.” This formality gone through with, it. was spread out. upon a desk and signed by ail of the members of Con gress present. Fifty of these fathers of the republic signed on that day. Six of the revered “signers,, did not affix their signatures until later dates George Wythe of Virginia signed about August 27. Richard Henry Lee, Virginia: Eldridge Oerrv. Massachu setts, and Oliver Wolcott. Connecticut did not sign until some time 1n Sen temher Matthy Thornton, of New Hampshire, did not add his name until November, and Thomas McKean of Delaware, probably did not affix his, the final signature, until five years later, or 1761. Matthew Thornton, by the wav. was not. appointed to Con s Tess until September and did not take hfs seat until November —four months after the adoption of the Dec laration. Other signers who "-ere not members of Congress on July 2 or 4. were allowed to sign on August 2, the general signing day. These were Benjamin Rush, James Wilson, George Ross, George Clymer and George Taylor. JULY FOURTH. The Day of Days Among Uncle Sam’s Sailor Boys. Uncle Sam makes the Fourth of July a greater day among his sailors than even Christmas. Indeed, it is the greatest day for relaxation and pleasure for Jackie in the whole year. The early Secretaries of the navy established (lie custom and It lias been almost religiously maintained invio late through the long line of officials who have succeeded them. Independence day belongs to the Jackie. His superiors recognize that his life is in some respects a hard one. To him is denied the ties of family, the friendships and all the other interests and diversions of life that make up the landsman's existence, so for this reason Uncle Sam believes that his sailors should have as many holidays as possible. To make Independence Day the big gest day of all is to give the day a special significance which cannot fall in some degree at least to carry its lesson of patriotic duty to those who serve the republic on the seas. Hence commodores and captains always plan to remain in port on July 4. Then, after dressing ship, tir ing the national salute, and brief patri otic services, the day is given to the men to enjoy as they see tit, discipline being almost entirely relaxed. The sports that attend the sailors on the Fourth of July are of a varied char rm *i i I .Ml. I i ir-n — r~t. ■■■■-■ ' 1 INDEPENDENCE HALL AT PHI LA DE I.Pill A. acter. Our naval service has, of course, become affected to a consider able extent by the great outdoor move ! ment that has converted Independence Day into the greatest sporting carnl , val of the year. The Navy Department, has wisely 1 encouraged this tendency,, and where evcr an open field is available, Die , piece dc resistance Is a baseball game, sometimes between rival nines picked from members of the same ship, oftener between teamis represent Ing different ships and in some extreme cases between nines from separate 1 squadrons who happen to be in rert -1 dezvous near each other. Then there are track and field events. The fleet-footed wearers of 1 the blue show how fast they can sprint. Now just, what good tills does ; them in their developments as fighters is riot clear, for even had they the 1 Instinct to flee and get over ground faster than a Duffy It. would do them no good at the moment when the prow of the ship was heading for a moist trip to Davy Jones' Docker. However, they run and throw weights, jump and pole vault. If no athletic field la available, then the rivalry must be confined to aquatic events, swimming and rowing races. In extreme cases where It. Is not pos sible t.o get ashore or the water con dltlons preclude rowing or swimming, the Jackies test their prowess at box ing, wrestling, fencing, dancing and singing. Then the ship’s larder Is drawn on for such extra delicacies as trans forms the regula- neal Into a banquet, and Mr. Jackie crawls Into his ham mock w-It.h the comfortable feeling that July Fourth Is pretty big day after all, and that he Is glad to be able to pass ft In Unde Sam’s service. Mack Hair the Strongest. Black hair is stronger than golden tresses, and will sustain almost, double the weight. Recently a scientist found, by experiment, that It Is possible to suspend a weight of four ounces by a single hair, provided the hair be black. B’ond hair will give wav at weights varying according to the tint. A yel low hair will scarce support two ounces, a brown will bold up three without, breaking while one of a verv dark brown will sustain an additional half ounce. BHB gin Abv'vV.u~oaan D.n'W' \‘ I Copyrighted. 1894 By liArper ' Synapsis of prococllne chapters .it end of this Installment. At early dawn the country inn was all alive. The archer was as merry as a grig, and having kissed the matron and chased the maid up the ladder once more, be went out to the brook and came back with the water dripping from his face and hair. “Hola! tny man of peace," he cried to Alleyne, “whither are you bent this morning?” "To Minstead. My brother Simon Edricson is socman there, and I go to hide with him for a while.” The archer and Hurdle John pin a hand upon either shoulder and led the boy off to the board, where some smoking fish, n dish of spinach, and a jug of milk were laid "Ut, for their breakfast. “I should not be surprised to learn, mon catnarnde,” said the 1 soldier, as lie heaped a slice of the fish upon Alleyne's traneholr of bread, “that you could read written things." ~‘jou pinoD I j! nopniMji jo Hjaqinid u.i.iq o.ujq | pun flmo.is,, ‘p.uowsuu >t| “It would i>e shame to the good their clerk this ten years.” The bowman looked at him with great respect. “Think of that! said he. "And you with not a hair to your face, and a skin like a girl. I can shoot three hundred and fifty paces I with my llUli' popper there, and four ) hundred and twenty with the great war-how; yet I can make nothing of this, nor read my own name, “Why, It Is written In the French tongue," said Alleyne, “and In a right clerkly hand. Thin Ih how It rnnH In our speech: ‘To the very powerful and very honorable knight, Kir Nigel Coring of Christchurch, from hIH very faithful friend Kir Claude Latour, captain of the White Company, chate lain of BuHcar, grand lord of Mont chateau, and vassal to the renowned Gaston, Count of Koix, who holds the rights of the high Justice, the middle, and the low.” “Look at that, now!” cried the how man in triumph. "That is Just what he would have said. You come with me, moo gros Jean, and as to you, ’ little one, where did you say that you Journeyed ?" “To Mlnstead.” “Ah, yes! I know this forest-country well. We shall travel round with you t< Mlnstead, lad. seeing that It Is little out of our way.” As they passed the old church, which stood upon a mound at the left hand side of the village street, the door was flung open, and a stream of wor shippers wound down the sloping path, coming from the morning mass. Alleyne bent knee and doffed hat at the sight of the open door; but ere he had finished an Avo, his comrades were out of sight, round the curve of the path, and he had to run to overtake them. “What!” he said, “not. one word of prayer before God’s own open house’ How can ye hope for his blessing upon i the day?” "My friend,” said Tlordle John, “I , have prayed so much during the ,ast two months, not only during the day, but at matins, lauds, and the like, when f could scarce keep my head upon my shoulders for nodding, that I feel that I have somewhat overprayed myself.” “How can a man have ton much re ligion?” cried Alleyne earnestly. "It Is the one thing that avalleth. A man Is but a beast as he lives from d»v to day, eating and drinking, breathing and sleeping. It Is only when he raises himself, and no. erns himself with the Immortal spirit within him, that he becomes |n verv truth a man Rethink ye how sod a thing ft " - ouM he that the blood of the Redeemer should he spilled to no purpose ” “Bless the lad. If he doth not hlusti like anv gtrl. and vet preach I'Ve the whole College of Cardinals!” cried the archer “Tn truth T blushed that anv one «n weak and so unworthy as T «hoo|d try to teaeh another that which he finds ft »o passing frard to follow himself.” "Prettily said, mon garcon! Touch j 1 iiK that same slaying of the Uodeemer, it was a had business, A Rood padre In France read to us from a scroll the whole truth of the matter. The soldiers came upon Him in the Garden. In truth,these Apostlesof Hlamayhave been holy men, hut. they were of no great account as men-at-arms. There was one, Indeed, Sir Peter, who smote out like a true man; but, unless he is helled, he did hut clip a varlet’s . or, which was no very knightly deed. Ity these ten finger-bones! had I bei n there, with Black Simon of Norwich, and but one score of picked men of the Company, we had held them in play Could we do no more, we had at letLst tilled flic false knight, Sir Judas, so full of English arrows that he would nurse the day that, ever he name oil such an errand.” The young clerk smiled at his companion's earnestness. "Had He wished help," he said, "Hi* could have summoned legions of arehungles from heaven, so what need had lie of your poor bow ami Trow? Besides, bethink you of His own words that those whe live by the sword shall perish by the sword.” "Now, youngster, let things be plat and plain between ns. I ant a man who shoots straight at his mark. " •i 1 » niitniin hi i itihiii >ii HIM 111 • l I IV . You saw the things 1 hud with me at yonder hostel; name which you wHI. save the Imx of rose-colored sugar which I take to the Hady Coring, and you shall have them If you will but come with me to France.” "Nay,” said Alleyne, "I would gladly ■ come with ye to France or where else j ye will. Just to list to your talk, and la cause ye are the only two friends that 1 have In the whole wide world outside of the cloisters; but Indeed it I may not he, for my duty Is toward my brother, seeing that father and mother nre dead, and he my elder. Besides, when ye talk of taking me to France, ye do not conceive how useless 1 should he to you, seeing that neither by training nor by nature am I fitted for the wars, and there seems to he nought hut strife In those parts." "Bethink you again, mon ami," quoth Aylward, "that you might do much good yonder, since there are three hundred men In the Company, mid none who has ever a word of grace for them, and yet the Virgin knows that there was never a set of men who wen l In more need of It. Hlekerly the one duty may balance the other. Your brother hath done with out you this many a year, and, as I gather, he hath never walked as far as Beaulieu to see you during all that time, so he cannot be In arty great need of you.” “Besides,” said John, "the Socman ol Mlnstead Is a byword through the forest, from Bramshaw Hill to Holmes ley Walk. He Is a drunken, brawling, pi rlloug churl, as you may find to your cost." "The more reason that I should strive to mend him,” quoth Alleyne. "There Is no need to urge me, friends, for my own wishes would draw me to France, and It would be a Joy to me could I go with you. Hut Indeed and Indeed It cannot be, so here I take my h ave of you, for yonder square tower amongst the trees upon the right must surely be the church of Mlnstead, and I I may reach It by this path through the woods.” "Well, God be with thee, lad!” cried the archer, pressing Alleyne to his heart. "1 am quick to love, and quick to hate, and 'fore God I am loath to part. Yet It may be as well that you . should know whither we go. We shall now Journey south through the woods until we come out upon the Ohrist ehtirofi road, and so onward, hoping to-night to reach the castle of Sir William Mont.aoute, Earl of Salisbury,, of which Sir Nigel Boring is constable. ' There we shall bide, and It Is like | enough that for a month or more you I may find uh there, ere we are ready I for our voyage back to France.” It was hard Indeed for Alleyne to ! break away from these two new but hearty friends, and so strong was the combat between his conscience and his Inclinations that he dared not look round, lest, his resolution should slip away from him. The path which the young clerk hau now to follow lay through a magnifi cent forest, of the very heaviest timber, where th" giant holes of oak and of beech formed long aisles In every di rection, shooting up their huge branches to build the majestic arches of Nature’s own cathedral. It was very still there in the heart of the woodlands. The gentle rustle of the branehes and the distant cooing of pigeons were the only sounds which broke In upon the silence, save that once Alleyne heard afar off a merry call upon a hunting bugle and the shrill yapping of the hounds. He pushed on the quicker, twirling his staff merrily, and looking out at every ; turn •* the path for some sign of the i old Saxon residence. He was tselflenly ' arrest) <l, however, by the sippearance ' of a wild-looking fellow armed with a club who sprang out from behind a tree and barred his passage. He was a. rough, powerful peasant, with cap and tunic of untanned sheepskin, leather breeches. and gnlllgnsklne round his legs and feet. “Stand!” he shouted, raising his heavy cudgel to enforce the order. "Who are you who walk so freely throu-h the wood?” Wh'ther would you eo, and what Is your errand?” "Whv should T answer vour ques tions. mv friend , ” said Alleyne, stand ing on his guard. “Because vour tongue may save vr nr pate. What hast In the scrip'" “Nought, of any price.” "How can T tell that, clerk? T>et me see •* "Not T." ••tc,,,,!) t eonld pull von Hmh from limb like a pullet. Wouldst lose scrip and life too'” “T will part with neither without a fight.” "X fight, quotha? A fight betwixt. PART TWO.
