PEAKOME'S SADLERY, ESTABLISHED 7, PRINCES-STREET, CAVENDISH SQUARE. Patronized by the most distinguished Horsewomen, and Hunting Establishments in the Kingdom. Best Hunting Saddles, complete, 4 guineas. Ladies' Saddles, with Improved Leaping Head, 7 guineas. The Victoria Double Bridles, 1 guineas. Gentlemen's Best, 24s. Best Pair Horse Carriage Harness, 20 guineas. Large Carriage Sponge, 18s. per lb. Horse Clothing, Whips, Brushes, Spurs, and every other article lower than any House in London. Officers, Merchants, and Emigrants supplied at Wholesale prices. Country Saddlers allowed a liberal profit. Orders received by Agents of "Blackwood's Lady's Magazine" in any part of the World. INDIA RUBBER FOR THE TROPICS. EDMISTON'S POCKET SIPHO NIA, or WATERPROOF OVER COAT. -Weight, 10 ounces. Sole Manufacturers of the celebrated Pocket Siphonia, remarkable for its lightness, and softness in texture, easily folded to carry in the pocket or on the saddle; the most important feature in this Waterproofing is being mineralized, which effectually resists the powerful heat of the sun, and most violent rains, also obviating the stickiness and unpleasant smell peculiar to all other Waterproofs. Price, according to size, 40s. to 55s.; all silk throughout, 50s. to 65s. Measurement.-Length, and size round the chest, over the coat. Stout Siphonias, from 30s.; Yacht Jackets, from 18s. 6d. NOTICE.-Name stamped inside, none other are genuine. "The lightest and most effectual is the Siphonia."-Bell's Life, May 20, 1851. DEPLORABLE ACCIDENT.-LIFE BELTS.-The Times, of the 10th of August, records another instance of the utility of a Life Belt at Sea for Emigrants, Boating and Bathing purposes. Edmiston's Improved Belts, renowned in all parts of the World, 9s. to 12s. 6d., post free. Portable Air Beds for ships' use, folding up in a small compass for carrying up the country as a knapsack. Shippers and Emigrant parties supplied by contract. EDMISTON'S POCKET SIPHONIA DEPOT, 416 and 69, Strand, near the Adelphi. EAU DE COLOGNE, JOHN ANTHONY FARINA, of 129, HIGH STREET, COLOGNE, begs to inform the Nobility, Gentry, and Public in general, that he has appointed Mr. JOHN RAHLES, proprietor of the Royal Fur Magazine, 332, Oxford-Street, corner of Regent-circus, AGENT for the sale of his justly and widely celebrated EAU DE COLOGNE, whereby the ill-convenience of bringing it over will be avoided by travellers. N.B. Ladies are most respectfully invited to inspect the elegant exposition of the richest furs, now on view, at the Royal Fur Magazine. CHICKENS (the best) from Devonshire, 4s. 6d. a Couple. And the same price till April; Dartmoor Forest Mutton, in Legs, Haunches, and Saddles; Devonshire Clotted Cream daily, per mail train. A list of articles, with prices for every month, on application to WILLIAM TUCKER, DEVONSHIRE HOUSE, 287, Strand. A cart to the West End, daily, at nine o'clock, to ensure early delivery.-Established Twenty-eight Years. EAU-DE-VIE. THIS PURE PALE BRANDY is of a peculiarly wholesome character, possessing all the virtues of the finest old COGNAC, without its acidity; and equally well enduring the ordeal of cold or hot water. In French bottles with French labels, 30s. per dozen, bottles included, or 14s. by the imperial gallon. Only the immense consumption consequent upon universal approval could enable us to afford our pure "EAU-DE-VIE" at half the price usually charged for the coarse whisky-flavoured spirit so largely imported under that denomination. HENRY BRETT AND CO. Old Furnival's Distillery, Holborn. Under the especial Patronage of Her Royal Highness THE DUCHESS OF KENT. BLACKWOOD'S LADY'S MAGAZINE AND GAZETTE. IMPROVED SERIES ENLARGED. JANUARY 1853. THE CONSCRIPT BROTHERS. Ir was in the dark and smoky room of an alehouse, the walls stained by the dirt of years, that three young men were seated at a table. Their coarse and scanty meal stood untasted before them. Their muskets rested against the wall, and their knapsacks lay on the floor. The storm beat furiously against the window. The rain had penetrated through the dilapidated building, and gave a still more desolate appearance to the miserable apartment. It was the evening before the battle of Waterloo, a terrible confiict was expected. Many a soldier of Buonaparte's army was fired by the prospect, and waited with all the impatience of military ardour for morning to arrive. Not so our young Conscripts. They had been torn by the imperial. mandate from the bosom of their family, from the culture of the sunny vineyard, from the tranquil and simple pleasures that the paysans of France enjoy, and forced into military duty. There was no struggle for freedom to animate them; no anticipation of better days. Their little village had been desolated by their own countrymen, and their father robbed of his three sons by the most cruel despotism. They N. S. VOL. XXXIV. B い could not join in the shout of Vive l'Empereur! for they felt only the effects of his blasting and selfish ambition. "Our poor father!" said Conrad, striking his hand upon the table. "Our poor sister!" said Philip, while Edward, the youngest, who yet retained the slight form and fair complexion of boyhood, uttered a convulsive sob. "Cheer up, my boy," said Conrad, "if we must fight, fight like men, and die like Christians." At that moment the landlord entered, conducting a soldier. "Who talks of dying?" exclaimed he, as, full of animation and gaiety, he seated himself at the table; then casting his eyes around, "For shame, landlord," said he, "can you give the defenders of your country no better rations than these? Do you not boast of your generous wines? Bring them forth! Don't stint us of Burgundy and Champagne. Well may these poor fellows talk of dying, when famine and thirst stare them in the face." The landlord, who had long groaned under the heavy demands of those who had been quartered upon him, muttered his dissatisfaction. "Away!" exclaimed the soldier, "do you not know you have the honour of entertaining Fortunatus himself? Now, look, whenever I take off my cap and shake it thus, wealth pours from it ;" and several pieces of money actually fell upon the table. "Bless your honour," exclaimed the landlord; "may you often take it off in my house." "Go, then, poor fellow," said the soldier, throwing him a few francs, "and bring us the best you can find." The landlord bowed low and disappeared. "I do in my very soul pity these poor fellows," said the soldier, turning to his comrades; "they are oppressed by the soldiery, and obliged to entertain and feed them without recompense, and get nothing but curses in return, which it must be acknowledged," said he, again surveying the table," such fare deserves." It was not long before things wore a different aspect. The bright and sunny hue of the stranger's mind began to illumine even the dismal room of the alehouse. The landlord spread a much better repast upon the table, and, in honour of Fortunatus, placed a second smoky lamp directly before him. As the light glared upon his youthful and manly countenance, Edward suddenly arose and seized his hand. "Brothers," said he, "this is the very soldier who saved me from disgrace yesterday, when the dragoon stood over me." "Ah! is it you, my brave fellow?" exclaimed his protector; "it was your own mettle that saved you, for if you had not shown that honour was dearer than life, you might have been thrashed like a poltroon for all me. But come!" added he, filling the glasses round, and not for getting the obsequious landlord, "we are all a peg too low!" Glass after glass exhilarated the company, and the young Conscripts began to sparkle. "I wish," said Conrad, as he felt his blood warm, "that I went heart and hand in this cause." We have "Poh!" said the new comer, "it is not for us to reason. nothing to do but to fight. Let us drink' Vive l' Empereur!'" "I cannot," said Conrad; "my father is a royalist." "Well, then," exclaimed the good-natured soldier, "let us drink to the girl we love best. Come!" said he to Edward, who had filled his glass, "give us her name.' "My sister Alice," replied Edward, with animation. A shout of laughter from the soldier abashed the youth. "It is true," said Conrad; "he is a mere boy. He has always been brought up with his twin sister, Alice." "But come, Philip," said he, turning with an arch expression to his second brother, "you can help us out." The blushes of Philip were of a still deeper hue than Edward's. At length, however, in a low voice, he said, "Lucile." "Let us drink," said the soldier, "a bumper to our sister, Alice." The brothers smiled. There was something in the light-hearted, fearless gaiety of the new-comer that animated their own spirits. They soon lost the reserve and awkwardness of strangers, and conversed with ease and freedom. The father of the Conscripts, Jean de Castellon, inhabited a cottage that had descended from sire to son on the mother's side. It was one of those luxuriant spots cultured by the breath of heaven. Yet Jean's labour was not spared. All that patient industry requires to give affluence and utility to natural beauty, he had done. His barns opened their vast folding-doors to receive the harvest of autumn; and his agricultural utensils were of the first order. The old man's greatest delight and enjoyment were to sit at the door of his pretty cottage, and watch for the approach of travellers who might be passing that way; whom he invariably offered to conduct over the grounds attached to his neat and picturesque residence. The death of Jean's wife was the first calamity he had experienced. He was several years older than she, and had been a husband rather after the patriarchal order, than that of modern gallantry. But though he required great deference, it was willingly paid, and nothing disturbed the harmony of their union. At her death Jean had exercised the paternal care of father and mother in an exemplary manner. His two oldest boys were already able to assist his labours, and Edward and Alice were his constant companions. Years had passed in this tranquil state, and the father daily felt his sons. It was at this period that a detachment of soldiers entered the village for Conscripts. Their short stay was marked by plunder, they bore away in triumph Jean's eldest born, Conrad. The succeeding year Philip was marked out and enlisted as a soldier. Edward still re mained, nor did it enter the old man's head that they could rob him of all; but when the decisive battle was to be fought, when the best blood of France was to be spilt like water, and Napoleon gleaned, for the last desperate effort of his ambition, the hope of the nation, then the father was deprived of all. Yet still some form was preserved. No youth under sixteen was to be forced into the service-Edward had passed that age a few days before. The kind-hearted villagers exhorted Jean to make use of evasion. They promised to stand by him; but when he was put on oath, he not only told the day, but the very hour of his son's birth, and the only favour he could obtain was, that his two boys might fight side by side. A Such was the history of the Conscripts, nor was it uncommon. late historian says, "No distinction was made. The son of the widow, the child of the decrepit and helpless, had no right to claim exemption. Three sons might be carried off in three successive years from the same desolated parents. There was no allowance made for having already supplied a recruit." Fortunatus, now the companion of the brothers, was no Conscript. He had voluntarily enlisted in the French army, and he believed their arms invincible. He was full of amusing anecdote, and assured them he had fought in several battles. "I don't know how it is," said he, "I don't love to fight in cool blood; but when I hear the sound of the trumpet and the drum, and the music, it is a different thing. I have never yet lost life or limb. From my childhood I was called Fortunatus, because I have been remarkable for my good luck; but my real name is Frederick de Lancey." "I wish," said Philip, thoughtfully, "I felt as secure as you do, that only one of us would escape to-morrow with life; but when I think of our poor father and sister Alice, my heart dies within me." "If that is all, my dear boy," said the soldier," give yourself no uneasiness. I never knew more than two of a family shot in one battle; and the other may return to comfort his father." A sudden thought seemed to have struck Conrad. father?" said he to the soldier. "Have you a "No," replied he, the expression of his countenance suddenly changing; my father died in my arms, and left me without a relative in the world." ""And yet you call yourself Fortunatus?" said Edward. And why not?" replied he; "was I not happy to have been on the spot where my dear father breathed his last? Oh, it was the most fortunate moment of my life. I have now no one to mourn for me, and if I die to-morrow I shall not draw a tear from a human eye. I am without kindred, a citizen of the world, and may possibly, as I pass along, administer to the enjoyment of my fellow beings, but I cannot diminish their happiness.' "I am thinking," said Conrad, "if we three should fall, you might be a son to our father." "And a brother to Alice," added Edward. "Most willingly would I, but would they receive me? Who will vouch for my character?" |