第 21 节
作者:青词      更新:2021-08-14 15:19      字数:9319
  night。
  A place connected in my memory with a tragic association was across
  the   river   on   the  last  southern    slope    of  the  Palisades。    Here    we   stood
  breathless   while   my  father   told   the brief   story  of   the duel between   Burr
  and Hamilton; and showed us the rock stained by the younger man's life…
  blood。 In those days there was a simple iron railing around the spot where
  Hamilton had   expired;  but of   later   years   I have   been unable   to   find   any
  trace of the place。 The tide of immigration has brought so deep a deposit
  of 〃saloons〃 and suburban 〃balls〃 that the very face of the land is changed;
  old lovers of that shore know it no more。 Never were the environs of a city
  so    wantonly     and    recklessly    degraded。     Municipalities      have   vied   with
  millionaires in soiling and debasing the exquisite shores of our river; that;
  thirty years ago; were unrivalled the world over。
  The glamour of the past still lies for me upon this landscape in spite of
  its many defacements。 The river   whispers of boyish boating parties;   and
  the woods recall a thousand childish hopes and fears; resolute departures
  to join   the pirates;  or the  red men   in their strongholds …  journeys   boldly
  carried out until twilight cooled our courage and the supper…hour proved a
  stronger temptation than war and carnage。
  When I sat down this summer evening to write a few lines about happy
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  days   on   the   banks   of   the   Hudson;   I   hardly   realized   how   sweet   those
  memories   were   to   me。 The   rewriting   of  the   old   names   has   evoked   from
  their long sleep so many loved faces。 Arms seem reaching out to me from
  the past。 The house is very still tonight。 I seem to be nearer my loved dead
  than to the living。 The bells of my lost 〃Is〃 are ringing clear in the silence。
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  CHAPTER 17 … Royalty At Play
  FEW more amusing sights are to be seen in these days; than that of
  crowned   heads   running   away   from   their   dull   old   courts   and   functions;
  roughing it in hotels and villas; gambling; yachting and playing at being
  rich   nobodies。     With   much    intelligence    they   have   all  chosen    the  same
  Republican       playground;     where    visits   cannot    possibly   be   twisted    into
  meaning       any    new    〃combination〃       or   political   move;     thus   assuring
  themselves the freedom from care or responsibility; that seems to be the
  aim of their existence。 Alongside of well…to…do Royalties in good paying
  situations; are those out of a job; who are looking about for a 〃place。〃 One
  cannot take an afternoon's ramble anywhere between Cannes and Mentone
  without meeting a half…dozen of these magnates。
  The   other   day;   in   one   short   walk;   I   ran   across   three   Empresses;   two
  Queens;   and   an   Heir…apparent;   and   then   fled   to   my   hotel;   fearing   to   be
  unfitted   for   America;   if   I   went   on   〃keeping   such   company。〃   They   are
  knowing enough; these wandering great ones; and after trying many places
  have hit on this charming coast as offering more than any other for their
  comfort and enjoyment。 The vogue of these sunny shores dates from their
  annexation      to  France;    …  a  price  Victor   Emmanuel       reluctantly   paid   for
  French help in his war with Austria。 Napoleon III。's demand for Savoy and
  this littoral; was first made known to Victor Emmanuel at a state ball at
  Genoa。   Savoy   was   his   birthplace   and   his   home!   The   King   broke   into   a
  wild temper; cursing the French Emperor and making insulting allusions to
  his parentage; saying he had not one drop of Bonaparte blood in his veins。
  The King's frightened courtiers tried to stop this outburst; showing him the
  French     Ambassador        at  his  elbow。    With    a  superhuman       effort   Victor
  Emmanuel controlled himself; and turning to the Ambassador; said:
  〃I   fear   my   tongue   ran   away   with   me!〃   With   a   smile   and   a   bow   the
  great French diplomatist remarked:
  〃SIRE; I am so deaf I have not heard a word your Majesty has been
  saying!〃
  The   fashion   of   coming   to   the   Riviera   for   health   or   for   amusement;
  dates from the sixties; when the Empress of Russia passed a winter at Nice;
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  as a last attempt to prolong the existence of the dying Tsarewitsch; her son。
  There   also   the   next   season   the   Duke   of   Edinburgh   wooed   and   won   her
  daughter   (then   the   greatest   heiress   in   Europe)   for   his   bride。   The   world
  moves fast and a journey it required a matter of life and death to decide on;
  then; is gayly undertaken now; that a prince may race a yacht; or a princess
  try   her   luck   at   the   gambling   tables。   When   one   reflects   that   the   〃royal
  caste;〃 in Europe alone; numbers some eight hundred people; and that the
  East is beginning to send out its more enterprising crowned heads to get a
  taste of the fun; that beyond drawing their salaries; these good people have
  absolutely nothing to do; except to amuse themselves; it is no wonder that
  this happy land is crowded with royal pleasure…seekers。
  After   a   try   at   Florence   and   Aix;   〃the   Queen〃   has   been   faithful   to
  Cimiez; a charming site back of Nice。 That gay city is always EN FETE
  the day  she   arrives;   as   her   carriages   pass   surrounded by  French   cavalry;
  one   can   catch   a   glimpse   of   her   big   face;   and   dowdy  little   figure;   which
  nevertheless she can make so dignified when occasion requires。 The stay
  here is; indeed; a holiday for this record…breaking sovereign; who potters
  about her private grounds of a morning in a donkey…chair; sunning herself
  and watching her Battenberg grandchildren at play。 In the afternoon; she
  drives a couple of hours … in an open carriage … one outrider in black livery
  alone distinguishing her turnout from the others。
  The Prince of Wales makes his headquarters at Cannes where he has
  poor luck in sailing the Brittania; for which he consoles himself with jolly
  dinners     at  Monte     Carlo。   You    can   see   him   almost     any   evening     in  the
  RESTAURANT  DE   PARIS;   surrounded   by   his   own   particular   set;   …   the
  Duchess of Devonshire (who started a penniless German officer's daughter;
  and   became   twice   a   duchess);   Lady   de   Grey   and   Lady   Wolverton;   both
  showing near six feet of slender English beauty; at their side; and lovelier
  than either; the Countess of Essex。 The husbands of these 〃Merry Wives〃
  are   absent;  but   do not   seem  to   be   missed;   as   the ladies   sit   smoking   and
  laughing   over   their   coffee;   the   party   only   breaking   up   towards   eleven
  o'clock to try its luck at TRENTE ET QUARANTE; until a 〃special〃 takes
  them back to Cannes。
  He  is   getting   sadly  old   and   fat;  is   England's   heir;  the   likeness   to   his
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  mamma   becoming   more   marked   each   year。   His   voice;   too;   is   oddly  like
  hers; deep and guttural; more adapted to the paternal German (which all
  this family speak when alone) than to his native English。 Hair; he has none;
  except a little fringe across the back of his head; just above a fine large roll
  of fat that blushes above his shirt…collar。 Too bad that this discovery of the
  microbe of baldness comes rather late for him! He has a pleasant twinkle
  in his small eyes; and an entire absence of POSE; that accounts largely for
  his immense and enduring popularity。
  But    the   Hotel    Cap    Martin     shelters   quieter    crowned      heads。    The
  Emperor   and   Empress   of   Austria;   who   tramp   about   the   hilly   roads;   the
  King and Queen of Saxony and the fat Arch…duchess Stephanie。 Austria's
  Empress looks sadly changed and ill; as does another lady of whom one
  can occasionally catch a glimpse; walking painfully with a crutch…stick in
  the shadow of the trees near her villa。 It is hard to believe that this white…
  haired; bent old woman was once the imperial beauty who from the salons
  of the Tuileries dictated the fashions of the world! Few have paid so dearly
  for their brief hour of splendor!
  Cannes   with   its   excellent   harbor   is   the   centre