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Tlie Visitor id not intended 'as the veljicle lor 

 the current news of the day; but the following 

 matter of fact occurreiiee goes so far beyond 

 ordinary stories wliere marely the imagination 

 is taxed for some untoward train of events bor- 

 dering on the marvellous, that we place the sto- 

 ry upon record in our files. It presents a strik- 

 ing lesson, showing how nece.^.sary is forbear- 

 ance in that progress of human impressions 

 which may lead to the worst alienation of the 

 best and strongest human attachments. 



Correspondence of the Philadelphia Inquirer. 

 A Tale of Horror. 



Paris, 30th August. 



The utter stagnation of political affairs here, 

 owing to the adjoiirnnient of the Chambers, the 

 absence of the King and royal fimily, and of the 

 princijial memljers of tlie government, has been 

 broken by the horrible drama ol the Hotel Se- 

 bastiani, of which you will probably have heard 

 something, even sooner than the arrival of this 

 letter. Nevertheles.s the account of an eyewit- 

 ness and earwitness, resident on the spot", may 

 .not be unaccej. table to your readers, where the 

 event is one which, consitlered in all its bearings, 

 may perhaps be said to have no parallel in the 

 history of society in civilized life for half a cen- 

 tm-y. ^ 



Marshal Sebastiani \vas, as is well known, a 

 distinguished commnnder and diplomatist under 

 the bmpne and under the Restoration He has 

 engaged the special confidence and h-iendship of 

 Louis Philippe. Under Napoleon, as Emperor, 

 be was sent as ambassador to Constantinople: 

 and shortly before his de|)arture for that place 

 he married the daughter of the Duke de€oio-nv' 

 a member of the haute iwhiesse, and one of^tlle 

 oh, est and most dislingi;islied families of the 

 taubourg St. Germain. The lady had a large for- 

 tune 111 possession, and a still greater one in re- 

 version. At Constantino|ile she gave birth to a 

 temale mlan:, and died in so doin^r, leavin"- the 

 marshal and ambassador, her husband, u voun.r 

 widower, with a neuly burn iulimt. The"chil,r 

 under the care of a nurse, lived. The slate of 

 ±-urope was such at that time, that communica- 

 tion with Conslaniinople otherwise than by land 

 was impracticable, and the infant was accurdin^lv 

 con^^yed to Paris through Turkey, Austria a"id 

 the German Slates. This sole child grew into a 

 beauiiiul and highly accomplished woman, and 



became the inheritress, directly and by reversion, 

 of the fortunes of the Duke de Coigny, her uncle, 

 IMarshal Sebastiani, herliilher. General Sebastia- 

 ni, her uncle, and othi.'r wealthy relatives. In 

 fine, her forluno, in possession and in e.Npectan- 

 ey, amounted in value to twenty millions of dol- 

 lars. 



At eighteen she formed a love match contrary 

 to the wishes of her fimily, with the Duke de 

 Choisiiel-Piaslin, then only one-and-twenty, and 

 the head of another noble family, not less illus- 

 trious by descent than her own, and possessed of 

 a large inheritance. To this marriage nine chil- 

 dren were born— six daughters and three sons: 

 and the [lareiits were still short of the meridian 

 of life, the Duke being only 42, and the Duchess 

 3y. Causes of dissension arose of late years be- 

 tween them, out of circumstances which engen- 

 dered jealousy, in the Duchess, antl a separation 

 was threatened by her.. The Queen and (Mad- 

 ame Adelaide, who honored her with their esjie- 

 ciiil friendship, however, intervened, and brought 

 abdut a seeming reconciliation. 



Oil the 17th of the present month, the fiimily, 

 who were staying at their magnificent chateau of 

 V'ause-Phaslin, came to Paris by the Orleans 

 railway, with the purpose of proceeding to Diep- 

 pe, for the bathing season. They arrived in 

 town at nine o'clock in the evening, and imme- 

 diately left the railway station in two carriages, 

 one of which, containing the Duchess and some 

 of the children, went directly to the Hotel Sebas- 

 tiani, their town residence, in the Rue Faubourg 

 St. Honore, and the others, with the Duke and 

 the other children, drove first to the residence 

 ofa lady who had lately been governess in the 

 family, to visit her, and thence to the Hotel Se- 

 bastiani, where it arrived about an hour later than 

 the ibrmer carriage, vvhicli brought the Duch- 

 ess. 



Common report says that the Duchess expres- 

 sed her displeasure in strong language at this 

 visit to the governess at such an hour, and espe- 

 cially at her daughters being brought there, and 

 that a sharp altercation ensued. Be this as it 

 may, all was quiet and the family had retired to 

 rest at eleven o'clock. The Duchess's bedroom 

 was oil the ground floor, the windows opening on 

 the colonnade nf the hotel, which looks upon 

 the garden. The Duke's room was separated 

 from it by a cabinet, ante-room and other passa- 

 ges. 



Those who are familiar with tliis (|narter of 

 the city, will remember in walking up the 

 avenue of the Cliamps-Elysees, which runs at 

 the rear of the Faubourg St. Honore, after pass- 

 ing the garden of the British Embassy, and be- 

 fore arriving at that of the palais Elysees Bour- 

 bon, there is a pretty enclosure defended by iron 

 railing, fronting a handsome hotel having a stone 

 colonnade. This building is the Hotel Sebastia- 

 ni, and was the residence of the Duke and Duch- 

 ess of Prasliu, who occupied it in cominon with 

 Marshal Sebastiani, the-tiilher of the Duchess. 

 The hotel adjoins the palace on the west side, and 

 the Hotel Castellane on the east. The bed-room 

 of the Duke lookeil on tlie garden, as well as 

 on that of the palace. That of the Duchess, next 

 to the hotel Castellane, looked only on the gar- 

 den. 



Such being the description of the palace, let 

 us return to the awful narrative of the facts, not 

 as they were unfolded at the moment, but as the 

 circumstances since de\eloped have disclosed 

 them to lis. 



At half [?nst four in the morning the Duke 

 proceeded to the room of the Duchess, provided 

 vviih three means of murder — that is to say, with 

 cords to strangle, with a knife to stab, and with 

 a loaded pistol. .Stranginalion [iresented sever- 

 al obvious advantages, and was, as is supposed, 

 first tried. The noose was slipped over the 

 neck of the victim, but had not time to bo drawn 



tight before she startt'd up, made resistance, and 

 attempted noise. Jnslamly the knife was resor- 

 ted to, and ;i stroke was made at the neck, aim- 

 ed at the jugular artery. A wound was inflicted 

 and blood flowed; but the object aimed at was 

 missed, and the wound was not mortal. The 

 Duchess was yet on the bed where she had been 

 asleep. A strong and |iowerfiil woman, opposed 

 to a man under the middle size, she now strug- 

 gled for life. She sprung from the bed and a 

 struggle body to body ensued. The assassin waa 

 still armed with the knife with which he inflict- 

 ed ill rapid succession, half a dozen blows about 

 her neck and breast, none of which, however, 

 inflicted a death-wound. The Duchess made 

 for the bell, which was beside the chimney-piece. 

 She succeeded in reaching it and ringing it. In 

 accomplishing this, she had seized the knife by 

 the blade, and her hand vias frightfully wounded, 

 one of the fingers being nearly severed from it. 

 She staggered then toivards the wall beside the 

 fire-place on which, in two places, the print of 

 the bloody hand was left. The bell cord where 

 she grasped it was covered with gore. 



In the last blows the assassin had broken the 

 knife, and desiring doubtless to despatch his vic- 

 tim betbre a witness should arrive, he seized the 

 pistol by its barrel, and struck her a number of 

 severe blows on the head, by which she appears 

 to have been stunned and prostrated on the 

 floor, near a small sofa or divaii, which stood be- 

 side the chimney-piece. The murderer then 

 left the chamber, and proceeded to open one of 

 the windows in the adjacent cabinet. 



While these circumstances were proceeding, a 

 femme de chambre, who had been roused by the 

 bell, had throvvn on her clothes, and came down 

 stairs to the door of the Duchess's chamber, 

 which she attempted to open, but failed, it being 

 tiislened on the inside. She tlien called up one of 

 the male domestics, informing him that the Uucli- 

 ess was indisposed, as she heard her moaning, 

 but could not open her door, and required the 

 man's assistance to accomplish this. The two 

 servants returned to the door and again failed to 

 open it. It then occurred to the man to try the 

 windows which looked on tlie garden, and, be- 

 ing on a level with the porchway or colonnade, 

 were easily accessible. 



The object of the Duke in proceeding to open 

 the window of the cabinet, is presumed to have 

 been to create grounds for the inference that an 

 assassin had entered from the garden,and esca|ied 

 by the same means; be this as it may, the Duke 

 was in the act of execnlinir this purpose, at the 

 moment the man servant presented himself at 

 I he same window to attempt an entrance there to 

 the chamber ot the Duchess. He saw the figure 

 of the Duke, who instantly retired on perceiving 

 him. 



The servant then returned to the door of the 

 Duchess's chamber, and having become serious- 

 ly alarmed, forced the door in. The window 

 shutters being closed, the chamber was faintly 

 illuminated by a night lamp ; the Duchess was 

 stretched on the floor with her bend leaning on 

 the divan. On lighting the candles, which as 

 usual stood on tlie chimney-piece, the horrible 

 spectacle presented by the chamber was disclos- 

 ed to the aft'riithled servants. The floor was lit- 

 erally a sea of blood ; various articles of furniture 

 displaced or overturned in the struggle, laid dis- 

 arranged around the room. The Duchess still 

 lived, but was speechless, and scarcely sensible. 

 The first impulse of the domestics was to rush 

 forth and call for aid. One went to rouse the 

 door porter to send for medical assistance and 

 the police ; the other went to the Duke's room, 

 when he presented himself dressed. On hear- 

 ing the intelligence, the feelings he expressed 

 were those of reproach to the servants for negli- 

 gence in leaving the house exposed, more than 

 those of horror at the catastrophe. He rushed 



