lic was restored, he crossed to England, where, in April, 1878, at the age of seventyfive, he died. Mme. Murat survived him less than a year. Their first four children, born in or near Bordentown, are Caroline, Baroness de Chassiron; Anna, Duchess de Mouchy; Achille, husband of the Princess Dadiani de Mingreli, and Joseph, a colonel of the Guards. A younger son, Louis Napoleon, has recently been graduated from the French Naval Academy. Achille Murat, an elder brother of the prince, married a Virginian lady, and lived in the south for many years. He and his wife are buried at Tallahassee.

In spite of Joseph's usual good temper, a spark of truly Napoleonic egotism sometimes betrayed itself when his anger was roused. The gamekeeper, once, when taken to task for having permitted poaching, protested in vain that he had warned the sportsman to stop firing, but that the culprit was one of the Count's folks, and claimed

to have permission. "I have no folks!" exclaimed Joseph, "I am everybody. Hereafter, let no one but Mr. Mailliard shoot on these premises." An exception was again made in favor of his nephew, Louis Napoleon, the late emperor, who, during a sojourn in America, in the early summer of 1837, made, according to the testimony of the townspeople, a brief visit to the park. It is said by some that his depleted purse was replenished with a check for $20,000; others declare that he was coldly received. However that may be, long confinement in France, followed by a tedious voyage from Europe to South America, and from thence to the United States, had prepared him for the full enjoyment of country life and liberty. He and Adolphe Mailliard were both keen sportsmen, and, followed by a well-trained dog, they tramped the woods and meadows round in search of game. Once, when other sport was scarce, he is said to have bagged a luckless villager who rose between him

ing, among other trifles, a number of watercolor sketches.

When Lafayette made his triumphal progress through the States in 1824, he was received by the Count with open arms, notwithstanding the fact that he had been denounced as a traitor in Napoleon's will. The Marquis had been paying a visit to General Moreau at Trenton, and was escorted to Bordentown by a troop of Pennsylvania cavalry. His son, the Governor of Pennsylvania, and another gentleman sat with him in an open barouche, drawn by four white horses. While the military escort made merry at the park, Joseph and his guest drove through the village streets, followed by a cheering crowd.

In person, the Count more closely resembled his imperial brother than did any other member of the Bonaparte family, except, perhaps, his nephew Jerome, of Baltimore. But in character he was Napoleon's opposite. When waited upon at Bordentown by a deputation of Mexicans, who wished him to become their emperor, he remarked that he had worn two crowns, and would not lift his finger to secure a third. During his exile, he seldom or never alluded to his own career, but spoke often, and not without emotion, of Napoleon's fate.

| Philip Bellemère-now an old man of more than seventy-served as a barber in the Count's household between fifty and sixty years ago. Sitting in front of his toy and candy shop in Main street, of a summer afternoon, he will tell you he has shaved more distinguished men than any other barber in the land. Beards and mustaches were less fashionable in the days of our forefathers than now, and the post of barber to a man who kept open house was anything but a sinecure. So Bellemère put away his razors, and found other and more profitable employment. He declares, however, that his old master was a man to be esteemed-generous, just, good-humored, devoted to his family, affable with strangers, dignified with his inferiors, and but little given to joking. He rose early the year round, taking toast and coffee in his room. Breakfast was served at half-past nine o'clock; luncheon at two; dinner-for which meal the family always dressed-between seven and eight; and supper from ten to eleven. The cooking was excellent and the wine-cellar unsurpassed, though the Count ate sparingly and drank neither wine nor liquor. In dress, he was plain though not careless. Sometimes, of an afternoon, he drove out with the Princess Charlotte in a handsome barouche; but when alone, or

with Mailliard, he preferred a light wagon. His own hand planted many of the trees in the park,-including a vast number of Norway pines, and he found much amusement in rambling among them, lopping away superfluous boughs, and destroying traps set in the shrubbery by village boys. He never fished and seldom shot, although Mailliard kept a kennel of thoroughbreds.

Joseph took a lively interest in everything affecting France and the fortunes of his family. It was Napoleon's particular wish that he should publish in America the Emperor's correspondence with the allied sovereigns. But this he failed to do. During the period of his exile he corresponded with General Bernard, by whom he had been informed of Napoleon's death; with Lafayette, whom he acquitted of treason to the Emperor; with his nephew, Napoleon II.; his sister-in-law, Maria Louisa; her father, the Emperor of Austria; and the famous diplomate, Prince Metternich. But

his arguments and exhortations had but little effect. On the 18th of September, 1830, a long letter was forwarded from New York to the Chamber of Deputies. It declared. Napoleon II. Emperor of France, and pledged his exiled uncle to any effort to compel his restoration by Austria "to the wishes of the French."

But before this appeal was written, Louis Philippe had ascended the throne. Partial amnesty was soon afterward extended to the exiles of the Napoleon dynasty; and on the 22d of July, 1832,-the day of the Duc de Reichstadt's death,-Joseph sailed for England. Every one followed him to the outskirts of the village and there waved what many thought a last farewell. His presence was felt to have been a public blessing. It had increased the prosperity of the town, and carried its name wherever that of St. Helena had been heard. Without its royal benefactor, the village seemed deserted. Great, therefore, were the rejoic

MADAME LUCIEN MURAT.

ings when, five years later,-an old man, in his seventieth year,-Joseph suddenly re-appeared. But his stay was brief, and having traveled for some time and settled his affairs, he again sailed for Europe, never to return. This was in 1839. Before the year closed, a paralytic stroke, in London, well-nigh disabled him. His family were then in Italy, where, at Genoa, in 1841, he joined them. The closing years of a long and not uneventful life were passed at Florence. Nearly forty years before Joseph's death, which occurred July 27, 1844, his character had received a high tribute from Bernardin de St. Pierre, in the preface to "Paul and Virginia." He is there spoken of as one who "united in himself everything which distinguishes a son, a brother, a husband, a father and a friend to humanity; ** a philosopher, worthy of a throne, were any throne worthy of him." Victor Hugo, addressing him in 1833, said: "The day in which I shall be permitted to press your hand in mine will be one of the most glorious of my life." Napoleon said of his elder brother, possibly with a touch of irony: "Joseph is an excellent man-he is much better educated than I am."

Mr. Mailliard had been with him for thirty-six long years, and toward the close he vied with Madame Bonaparte in devotion to the invalid.

The esteem in which he was held is

shown by the Count's will, of which he and Judge Hopkinson (who, as it happened, died before the testator) were appointed joint executors. "No man," says Joseph, "has more right to my confidence, to my esteem." He would fain show his attachment by a greater legacy, but leaves him only the Groveville farm, near Bordentown, and a bagatelle of $6,000, besides a life annuity of $400knowing that his "modesty equals his fidelity," and that such a bequest will more than gratify his wishes. To Mailliard's son, Adolphe, he also left $6,000; and a similar sum to Mr. Thibaud and Josephine. A check for 10,000 francs bore witness that the door-keeper at the park was not forgotten. Besides these various legacies, the Count left some tokens of a more personal character among his intimate friends.

Louis Mailliard was left in charge of the park till Joseph's grandchild, Zénaïde's son, should be twenty-five years of age. Prince Joseph, who inherited all the Count's real estate in this country, with the exception of the Groveville farm, stayed for a short time at Point Breeze. He was more reserved than his grandfather, and lived in comparative seclusion. After the revolution of '48, he visited France, and, two years later, barely escaped assassination in Rome, where he died in 1865, at the age of forty-one.

From Prince Joseph's hands the park passed into the possession of Thomas Richards, a Philadelphian. Mr. Richards bought the place at auction in 1847, and sold it three years later to Henry Beckett, Esq., son of Sir John Beckett, of Lincolnshire, England, and sometime British Consul at Philadelphia. Mr. Beckett, finding the Count's house in poor repair, had it destroyed and built a larger one, nearer the bluff. The marble mantels, which had been among the chief ornaments of the old building, were placed in the new, the walls of which were adorned with rare books and paintings inherited by Mr. Beckett's first wife, a descendant of old Governor Hamilton, of Pennsylvania. Their son, Hamilton Beckett (who married the daughter of Brougham's rival, Lord Chancellor Lyndhurst), now lives in England. The place at Bordentown was left by will to Mr. Beckett's grandchildren, and has been offered for sale at a nominal price. The gardener's house and the cook's remain, while the lakehouse (the lake itself no longer exists) has been converted into a summer boarding

house. Many of the trees have been cut down, the lawn is unkept, and there are few traces of the former beauty of the place. A few weeks since, it was used as a camping-ground by the New Jersey Division of the Grand Army of the Republic, and the many thousands who were attracted thither by the encampment itself, or the bombardment that marked its close, found the old place most wofully disfigured. It is not improbable that the "G. A. R.," aided by the railroad company, will purchase all that remains of the once extensive park, and make it the scene of similar reunions in the future. No sketch of Bordentown would be complete without some account of "Old Ironsides," the officer to whom, with Commodore Bainbridge, America owes it that our navy went to sea in the war of 1812, and that the Constitution won her famous victory over the Cyane and Levant. It was this aged patriot who, when Fort Sumter was fired upon, pleaded in vain to be assigned to active service, exclaiming: "I am as young as ever to fight for my country!" The stormworn veteran, whose declining years were spent in partial retirement on the Delaware, sailed thence, in November, 1869, to the unknown port, having reached the ripe old age of ninety-one. Though commissioned as rear-admiral in 1862, Stewart always clung to the title of commodore. In stature he was small; his features were regular and strong; his eyes large, bright and blue, and his expression singularly animated. With much good-humor and affability, he was never undignified. Many good anecdotes of his adventures are in vogue, and no one enjoyed them more or told them better than himself.

The commodore's home, Montpellier, stands on the high bluff just below Bordentown,-a fine old country mansion, overlooking the river and Pennsylvania shore, and hemmed in by lofty silver pines. Before Stewart purchased it, in 1816, the place belonged to François Frederici, "General of Surinam," who settled there some eighty years ago. Old Ironsides is remembered by the villagers as a little old man, with smooth-shaven face and snow-white hair, fond of flowers, birds and children, and enthusiastic in the cultivation of his farm. During the greater part of his stay at Montpellier, he occupied a weather-beaten little house not far from the main building, and gradually converted it into something more like a granary than a human habitation. The commodore's death was marked by a touching incident. He had suffered acutely for

many weeks, and, as the end drew nigh, was unable even to give utterance to his wants. It had stormed throughout the day, but toward night the clouds were driven from the sky. The setting sun threw a flood of golden light on house and lawn and river, and as the windows were thrown open to admit the warm, fresh air, a little bird flew in, hopped to the bedstead of the dying man, and, perching near his head, filled the room with its melodious song.

Bordentown did reverence to the departed hero, watching, with tearful eyes, the vessel which bore his body to its resting-place by the Schuylkill River. The homestead on the Delaware is now owned by the commodore's daughter, whose son, Charles Stewart Parnell, is the leader of the Irish Home Rule party in the British Parliament. His sisters and their widowed mother divide their time between Bordentown and New York.

Among the other notabilities of the past whose names are in any way connected with that of Bordentown is the Mexican emperor, Iturbide, who was shot in 1824, while attempting to regain the throne which he had abdicated. The empress, having landed in Mexico with the imperial robes and scepter, was seized, but afterward released and pensioned by the Government, on condition of spending the rest of her life in South America or the United States. A son and two daughters of the emperor passed one or two summers in the village, over thirty years ago.