types. Two of these gentry, always ingenious and for the time being industriously inclined, entered into a compact, or in modern phraseology constituted themselves into an association, to obtain on credit a small cask of brandy, to be paid for by the proceeds of sale at the fair of St. Denis, and the profits to be divided each and each alike. M. and Madame Maîtrillard were considerate enough to furnish the cask of brandy, the associates provided the hand-barrow, and the spirits were to be sold at twopence a small glass, known as a "poisson" or "polichinelle." Thus they started one fine Sunday morning, gladdened by the prospects of an agreeable enterprise and certain profits. They had got as far as La Chapelle, when Sariol, one of the associates, said to Turban, the other, "I say, I am going to have a polichinelle." "Well, you don't trouble yourself; that brandy does not belong to you, it belongs to the association." "Precisely so," replied Sariol; "it belongs to you and to me. We have each half interest in it. The polichinelle costs four sous. Here are two; that is the value of your half." Ah! that is all fair; give me two sous and drink your polichinelle." It was a hot morning, and dragging the cask up hill was no sinecure. They had not got far before the association stopped, and Turban said to Sariol, “I will tell you what it is, I must do like you and treat myself to a polichinelle." "Yes, but you must pay me two sous." Certainly, that is understood." He imbibed a polichinelle, and returned the two sous to his friend, which had been given to him a short time previously. Arrived at the Route de la Révolte, Sariol observed that he must really take advantage of the cheapness of the brandy, and since he could get for two sou what was worth four, he should have another polichinelle. The associate offered no objections, and the two sous returned to his pocket, but only to change hands again shortly afterwards. "Well, you are in the right; as it only costs two sous a glass, it would be a pity to deprive oneself of a drop." So the famous penny piece changed hands again, and another glass of liquor was imbibed. By the time they had got to the little bridge at the entrance of St. Denis our two merchants had already passed the eternal penny five or six times from one to another, and they were still in a high state of delight at their discovery of the means of selling a polichinelle of brandy for two sous. It is almost needless to say that when they got to the fair their heads were no longer in a condition favourable for commercial undertakings. They were, indeed, solely occupied with one idea, and that was that the more they drank the more profits they realised. Under the dominion of this combination, they continued to supply themselves from the cask, till at last there was not a drop remaining. Turban then turned round upon Sariol, and apostrophised him as follows: "How is this? You have got me into a pretty mess. We purchased six francs' worth of brandy, all has been sold, and we have only got two sous in hand." 66 What, only two sous all together?" Yes, all together." "Then I tell you what, you are a thief-you have robbed the association." The other retorted, and the association was shortly afterwards picked up by the police bruised and torn, and with several handfuls of hair removed from their respective craniums. Their financial position was deposed before the magistrate to be represented by an empty cask, one glass, and one penny-piece. They pleaded that they were acting for the benefit of their families; and the court, considering the manner in which they had associated themselves for so justifiable a purpose, and the wisdom they had shown in carrying out the objects of the association, deemed these to be "extenuating circumstances," and ordered them to be confined for a period of eight days only. Many will probably be inclined to think that in the following instance the victim exhibited a greater amount of simplicity than the victimised did of ingenuity. The complainant was a The complainant was a "marchande vins" at Colombes. "Monsieur," she said, pointing to the defendant, a certain Lalyaux, who was accommodated with a seat on the criminal bench, "comes into my establishment, asks for a quart (wine understood), bread, cheese, and sausage. When served, he begins to eat, drink, and converse; he spoke especially on political matters, of Spain, Mexico, England, the Pope, and Prussia. Ah! à propos of Prussia,' he said to me, 'have you seen the Prussian?" "The Prussian!' says I; what Prussian?" 'The Prussian who has come to live at. Colombes,' says he. Is there a Prussian at Colombes? Yes, a refugee-a conspirator who endeavoured to seize upon the throne of Prussia, and who was condemned to death in consequence.' 'Indeed I have not,' says I; 'it is the first time I have heard of him.' Upon this, monsieur proceeded to relate to me the whole details of the conspiracy; the conspirator having a Prussian name that, he said, it was impossible to pronounce without a string in the throat. Several other persons had in the mean time grouped around to hear the story. "Suddenly he exclaimed: Tiens! there is the Prussian!' We all ran to the door to see an individual who was passing by, and whom monsieur had pointed out to us. Ah! is that the Prussian?' we said to one another. When we had seen the Prussian well, and he had got indeed out of sight, we returned in again, but monsieur had disappeared, forgetting to pay one franc forty-five centimes, that he had consumed, and, on going forth from our establishment, he went and consumed for as much at another." The other marchand de vins was called up, and began a second edition of the history of the Prussian : "The President-That will do, we know the history. Go and sit down. To the defendant: Well, you hear what is said against you? "The Defendant-Tortured by hunger, Monsieur le Présidentactually in torture! "The President-How is that! you had just eaten in one house, and you went immediately to eat again in another? "The Defendant-I was in agony, not having eaten anything for three days. "The President-You seem to have suffered especially from thirst, to judge by the amount that you imbibed? "The Defendant-I drink a good deal when I am eating. "The Defendant-I preferred dining half at one house and half at another, so as to inflict the least damage possible. "The dealer in wine-It would be better to work for the King of Prussia than to supply such consumers as that." This last observation closed the debates. The man who dined twice upon the faith of a Prussian was condemned to four months' imprison ment. MADAME DE BRANDEBOURG. A BRILLIANT cavalcade, composed of officers and courtiers belonging to the aristocracy of Turin, was moving along the leafy forest rides that led to the royal hunting château "La Veneria." The centre of this brilliant train was occupied by two coaches filled with splendidly-dressed ladies. In the first coach were four, who represented three stages of life. Two of the ladies bordered on old age, one appeared just to have attained her fortieth year, while the youngest seemed twenty at the most. This young beauty was the object of continued homage from a most chivalrouslooking officer, who wore the brilliant uniform of the Brandenburg troops of the Elector Frederick III., and was scarce two-and-twenty years of age. His features were noble and regular, and revealed the scion of an exalted family. His extremely tasteful uniform made his handsome face look doubly prepossessing, and the only surprising thing was that so young an officer already bore the insignia of such high rank in the army. This, however, could be easily explained, for the officer was the Margrave Charles Philip von Schwedt, step-brother of the Elector of Brandenburg, and general in the auxiliary army which the elector had sent to the aid of the Duke of Savoy, who was pressed by the French troops. The fair lady was the Countess de Balbiani Salmour. She was the widow of a colonel belonging to one of the noblest families in Italy, and was both mentally and corporeally one of the most highly endowed women of her age. The young margrave divided his time in Italy between the two contrasting occupations of love and war. The elector Frederick III., afterwards first King of Prussia, had, in a correct feeling of the danger which menaced Germany through the attacks of Louis XIV., sent his great father's veteran troops to the help of the oppressed prince. The men of Brandenburg fought under the banner of their Elector on the Rhine, and carried the fortress of Bonn by storm. Brandenburg troops shed their blood in distant Hungary against the birth-foe, the Turk, and decided the sanguinary action at Salankemen. Six thousand Brandenburg warriors crossed the Channel and helped the Prince of Orange to maintain his position in England, until the fugitive James II. was declared to have forfeited the throne, and the Oranger ascended it as ruler over a free people. Faithful to his defensive policy, the Elector Frederick had sent an auxiliary corps to Victor Amadeus, Duke of Savoy, who was sorely pressed by Catinat. They fought with great distinction under the command of Prince Eugene. The general commanding this corps d'élite was a French refugee, Monsieur de Varennes. Under him Margrave Charles Philip served as a volunteer, after he had distinguished himself in earlier combats by his personal bravery. Immediately after the arrival of the Brandenburger in Italy, the troops went into winter quarters. Turin became the rendezvous of the different regiments that would shortly play their bloody part in the field. Victor Amadeus, who was himself of a chivalrous temperament, gallant, and fond of luxury, regarded it as a special duty to render the stay of his guests in his capital as agreeable as possible. While on one day the newly-raised redoubts were inspected, or parades were held, on the next splendid masked balls gathered together all the commanders, without distinction of rank; from the wild music of the martial strains and the rattling of drums, they passed to the seductive sounds of the sarabands performed by the ducal orchestra, and, exchanging the heavy riding-boot for the silken shoe, they moved through the dance with the beauties of the court and city. Here it was that Margrave Charles first formed the acquaintance of the Countess Salmour. As he was young and fiery, the lovely, witty lady naturally exerted a powerful charm over him. In that age, which was already corrupted by the frivolous tone of the French court, a woman so gifted must seem doubly attractive when she was seen to keep aloof from any coquetry, and retained the unstained name of her family. Of this the margrave very soon convinced himself when he made her the proposal to become his without the blessing of a priest. An allusion to the idols of the age, Louis XIV. and Charles II., was of no avail. The countess declined the proposal nobly and simply with the words: "Monseigneur, I am too poor to be your wife, but belong to too good a family to become your mistress." Still the handsome, amiable prince was not indifferent to her. Some time passed, during which the lovers devised every possible plan which the happy future suggested to them. After the margrave had pledged the countess his princely word that he would never leave her, they agreed to be married privately. The countess admitted her relations, Count Salmour and M. de Balbiani, as well as their wives, into the secret. Although they shook their heads at first, the prospect of the brilliant alliance aroused the ambition of the family, and they confidently awaited the clearing away of the last dark spot that showed itself on the lovehorizon of the margrave and the beautiful Salmour. This dark spot was the consent of the Elector Frederick to a marriage which did not at all harmonise with his brilliant projects for the future. Still it was believed that after the marriage had taken place, and in consideration of the countess's unsullied reputation, the elector would hesitate to demand its dissolution. They were well aware of the attachment at Berlin, for the margrave had been some time at Turin; but they merely regarded the affair as one of those transitory liaisons such as were to be seen at all the courts of Europe during the last half of the seventeenth century. In the first outburst of joy, which the fair countess yielded to on receiving the margrave's troth, she soon discovered a way which would lead to their object. Her brother had succeeded in winning over by a bribe a poor advocate to perform the requisite legal functions at the marriage. In the same way a priest of the name of Lea had been found, who expressed his willingness to perforin the ecclesiastical rites. Both men had the reputation of having been mixed up in similar intrigues before. They were both strangers to the countess, and she only thought of the fulfilment of wishes which she desired to see realised as eagerly as did the margrave. Charles Philip had at once given his consent, but, as the day drew nearer, he felt a growing dissatisfaction with the position of affairs. His chivalrous character revolted against secresy. The only objection to his affianced wife was her inequality of rank; he felt convinced of the sin cerity of her feelings, and he was a soldier, respected not only because he bore a princely name, but because he had shown himself worthy of it by his bravery; why, then, should he hesitate about openly leading to the altar the woman whom he had so dearly loved, and who promised to form the happiness of his life? He considered it an act of cowardice to slip into a chapel by night with the wife of his heart. Still he did not conceal from himself what a varying impression the ceremony would produce of his military entourage, the majority of whom, being acquainted with the pride of the elector, must openly avow their disapprobation. The margrave reckoned up the small party of men unhesitatingly devoted to him. The army adored him as a youthful hero, and, as regarded the opponents of his marriage project, he resolved that they should be present when the ceremony was performed, as through the mere presence of officers of high rank the business must assume an official stamp. As it might be assumed that none of the opponents would be willing to act as witnesses of the marriage if they learned beforehand what was about to happen, the margrave formed the bold resolution of working on their surprise, and thus rendering them involuntary accomplices. He prepared a banquet at the ducal hunting château, La Veneria. The highest officers received invitations, and host and guests proceeded to the château in the brilliant procession, to which we alluded in the opening of our article. On reaching the hunting-lodge, which the duke had placed at the margrave's disposal, the guests were led into the large gallery, where a magnificently-laid table awaited them. Before dinner commenced, however, the margrave proposed to his guests a stroll through the pleasantly sequestered gardens. The brilliant crowd spread about the walks, and Charles Philip remained alone with the countess. The restlessness which had seized upon both of them admitted of no witnesses. They cheered each other, and again went over the list of their devoted partisans. The countess could calculate on the unhesitating adhesion of all her relatives, but the margrave, on the other hand, was only certain of his three adjutants, MM. Despreuves, De Péras, and Stylle. This small body was opposed to the far larger party of general officers and diplomatists, at whose head stood the Prince of Hesse-Darmstadt, the margrave's cousin, M. de Varennes, general of the Brandenburg auxiliary forces, Major von Hoffman, M. de la Motte Fouqué, and the ensign cavalry colonel Von Hackeborn. There was, however, no time for further consideration. The dinner-hour was approaching, during which the coup was to be attempted. The countess walked up and down the gallery with her ladies in a state of feverish excitement, while the margrave tried to conceal his feelings by pretending to pay extreme attention to the most trifling details in the arrangement of the table, and so on. A shrill braying of trumpets at length summoned the guests to table. The margrave had posted his cavalry band in the gallery, whose arch reechoed the fiery notes of the wind instruments. The conversation soon became animated. The choicest dishes, the most costly wines heightened the pleasures of the table, to which the truly princely scene, and the architectural beauty of the gallery, imparted a certain dignity. The officers, who freely yielded to the enjoyment of The château was destroyed in 1706 by the French under La Feuillade, but afterwards rebuilt. * |