Evening Star Newspaper, January 6, 1935, Page 70

o A A AP PN P P N e AT ST. PIERRE, Martinique, December 26, 1934. OR months I had been looking forward to my visit to Martinique. A dozen things about this West Indian island fascinated me, but in this article I shall have to confine myself to two. One concerns” beautiful Aimee Dubuc de Rivery, the Veiled Empress of the Turkish Empire, cousin of Empress Josephine of France, and a native daughter of this romantic French colony. The other deals with the devastating eruption of Mount Pelee, May 8, 1902, and the destruction of that famous commercial capital and fortified seaport St. Pierre with all its 40,000 inhabitants. To gain a better picture of this terrible catastrophe I embarked on a small coastwise steamer from St. Lucia and followed the iden- tical course that Capt. Freeman piloted the British steamer Roddam, some 30 years before, into a roaring inferno of fire, of flying rocks and ashes and sudden death. As we steam along I attempt to imagine that I, too, was a passenger on this selfsame boat, which was the sole survivor of a whirling cyclone of fire that shocked the world. On May 7, 1902, at midnight, the Roddam left St. Lucia for St. Pierre, 20 miles to the north, then the most beautiful city in the West Indies. There had been reports that Mount Pelee had shown signs of activity on May 3, and on May 4 a downfall of ashes had hidden the mountain from view. May 5 a stream of lava had flowed down to the sea, sweeping from its half-mile path plantations, buildings, factories and 150 people. It was enly a hint of the disaster that was to come. URING the first part of the Roddam’s journey it is assailed by a terrific storm, in which streaks of lightning flash sharply across the sky; the thunder is continuous and deafening. The sea grows rougher, huge waves sweep the deck. Yet, in the morning, the Roddam steams to anchor in fine weather. ‘The harbor at St. Pierre is deep, vessels can ®o within 15 or 20 yards of the shore. A boat comes alongside at 8 o'clock bringing Joseph Plissono, the ship’s agent in St. Pierre, and the captain talks to him. From time to time his glance takes in St. Pierre, which is sit- uated on sloping ground, the “lower town” along the water front, dirty and unhealthy, the “upper town” clean and well built. Suddenly, without warning, there is a tre- mendous explosion and a cloud of smoke, cin- ders and fire sweep down the mountainside with terrific rapidity and over the town and port. In an instant the boat and captain are enveloped in a sheet of flame. Agent Plissono climbs on board as his own boat disappears beneath the sea. Several of the crew were quickly burned to death by molten lava. A number of them lie dead, contorted and burned out of human semblance on the deck. Panic stricken, supercargo Campbell and 10 of the erew jump overboard into the flaming sea and mre lost. By superhuman efforts the captain and crew Blip the cable and, steam being up, back away from shore, Capt. Freeman, despite his severely burned hands, heroically steering the vessel out. On shore and in the port the fire seems to burn everywhere at once. For miles the mea front blazes and deafening explosions rend -the air. Men and women rush back and forth on shore amid the flames, but they do not run Jong once the choking smoke hits them. Even worse than the fire is this terrifying, poisonous, choking smoke which succeeds it. When it strikes, people drop dead in their tracks. It is a picture of hell that beggars even Dante’s description. Two miles away the great Guerin distilleries are going up in a burst of fire. The ashes darken the sky, but the flashes of flame reveal sights that might better be left unseen. Heaps of bodies lie on the wharves where they died struggling to reach the apparent safety of the water. Those in the harbor fare no better in the rain of roaring fire. There are 18 vessels in port beside the Roddam and they sink with all on board. Among them is the cable repair ship Grappler, which was en- deavoring to repair the cable line, interrupted on the morning of May 7. Nearby Capt. Muggah of the steamship Roraima, suffering terribly from inhaled flames, waves his hand $o Capt. Freeman as his ship goes down. Every- where on sea and land a fiery, lava-laden death @eigns supreme over a terrified populace. The Roddam, almost completely wrecked, @iowly leaves the scene behind. Though the snountain had ejected flame, molten rocks and hes for.a matter of a few minutes only, it ms a lifetime to the survivors. Five miles “Rocked the World Mount Pelee, in 1902, Trapped 40,000 Inhabitants of St. Pierre, and Aimee Dubuc de Rivery’s Eruption of Anger Trapped Thousands of Napoleon’s Army in Russia—A Visit at Martinique. BY RICHARD HALLIBURTON away the ashes are still falling and there are black cinders on deck half a foot deep. ‘The Roddam crawls slowly into Castries Harbor at St. Lucia at 5 pm. on the same day un- recognizable, gray with ashes, her rigging dis- mantled and sails and awnings torn and charred, bringing the first news of the disaster to the outside world and a Mr. Plissono, believed to be the sole survivor of the now silent city. FROM the tragic eruption of Mount Pelee we turn our attention to the incredible (but true) story of Aimee Dubuc de Rivery, who brought to pass the downfall of Napoleon and consequently affected the course of world his- tory more than any other woman I can think of. It is a curious fact that the two women who played the greatest part in Napoleon’s life were both from Martinique. One, Josephine, he loved, married, crowned as his empress, and divorced. The other, Josephine's cousin Aimee, Napoleon never saw. He was scarcely conscious of her existence and apparently never knew it was she who, more than Wellington, Waterloo or the British fleet, sent him to St. Helena. The life history of Josephine has been told a thousand times, and in every language. There is a statue of her near her Martinique birth- place. The style of dress she wore is still worn by the women of the island who look upon I'Imperatrice as a goddess. But the life history of Aimee has been told just once—by Benjamin A. Morton, in a re- markable book called “The Veiled Empress,” published in 1923. Morton had never consid- ered himself a professional writer—he is & vice president of a New York bank. But on a holiday’s visit to Martinique he heard about Aimee. Immediately he became so interested in her careersthat he spent every vacation for several years following in tracking down her faint and elusive trail. “Finding out about her,” he writes, “has been such a difficult task that I am reluctant to confess how much labor it has cost.” What he found completely sidetracked the stories I had planned to write about the more familiar features of the island and directed my pen instead to a quiet and unfrequented little veninsula called La Point Royale, where Aimee Dubuc de Rivery was born in 1763. As a child, Aimee’s dearest friend and confi- dante was her cousin Josephine, born the same year on a nearby plantation. Together they grew up in the happy, idle, comfortable society o! colonial Martinique. When they were still little girls thoy went (o Aimee Dubuc de Rivery, the French girl from Martinique, who became the Sultana of Turkey and was chiefly re- sponsible for the annihilation of Na- poleon’s army in Russia, Statue of Josephine, Napoleon’s wife, in Martinique. She was Aimee Dubuc de Rivery's cousin. a famous Negro socthsayer and eagerly asked to have their fortunes told. For Josephine the fortune teller predicted two marriages. Her second husband would fill the world with his glory and conquer many nations. Josephine was to become greater than e queen, with a supreme dignity; but this dignity she would outlive, and yearn for the sweet and peaceful life once led in Martinique. For Aimee: On a sea voyage her ship would be taken by Moslem pirates. She would be con- ducted into a seraglio and have a son by a great sultan. She would occupy, all the rest of her life, a vast and magnificent palace where she would have command. OTH little girls probably snickered on hear- ing such fantastic fortunes prophesied for them. They probably departed, gayly, from the soothsayer's home, to make mud pies or put their dolls to bed and forgot all about their shining futures. But every single word the old fortune teller spoke came to pass. In fact, in Aimee’'s case the prophesy was not half spectacular enough. When Aimee was 13 she was separated from Josephine, and sent off to France to complete her education in a convent at Nantes. For eight years she remained there, prevented from visit- ing her native island by the wars raging be- tween France and England. But at last, in 1784, when Aimee was 21—now a strikingly beautiful girl with pale gold hair—she started for home. Aimee never reached Martinique. Her ship was set upon by Algerian corsairs, as fierce and daring a race of pirates as ever lived. The ship was easily captured and all the passengers and crew taken prisoner. Among the captives Aimee stood out. She was more than beautiful. She had extraordi- nary charm and a distinguished manner as well. At once the corsair captain delivered this very appealing prize over to the Dey of Algiers himself, But not even here did Aimee’s story-book ad- venture end. The Dey weas under great obliga- tion to the Turkish Sultan, his overlord, for money and munitions. In this beautiful Chris- tian captive he saw a chance to pay back. So Aimee was bundled up again and put on a corsair ship that sailed on east through the Mediterranean, past Greece, into the Aegean, past Troy, through the Hellespont, landing at Constantinople. Here the Sultan took one look at her and Li5 heart stood still. He had a score of wives kot ST “Assassins. spurred on by the shouts and fighting at the palace gates, found Selim first and stabbed him to death.” already—Greeks, Armenians, Caucasians. But they were mostly untutored slaves. This girl could read end write. In fact, she was by far the most intelligent wife he had ever had. Aimee immediately became the Sultan's favorite, and in due time bore him a blond son. She had long since given up all hope of escape. No woman of the seraglio ever had before. So, since she was doomed to reside the rest of her life “in a vast and magnificent place,” she decided, “‘she would have command.” Was that not what the fortune teller had fore- told? Meanwhile, cousin Josephine was having a few adventures of her own. She had married Vicomte de Beauharnais and borne him two children. But during the French Revolution her husband lost his head under the guillotine. Not long after she married again—this time to a wild young genius from Corsica named Napolean Bonaparte, six years her junior. Life became very exciting for Mme¢. Bona- parte. Her husband was winning one military victory after another for France, and as his wife she was receiving honor equally with him. UT Aimee, a queen in Constantinople, was even more occupied. There the question of royal succession had arisen. She and her son Mahmoud, who was the third in line, were be- coming involved in the deadly intrigues that seemed to be the natural order of things in Turkish seraglios. The first and second princes were sworn enemies and their respective moth- ers even more hostile. Each mother tried to poison her rival's child, to undermine each the position of the other by fair means or foul. Aimee had the best wits of the three. Conse- quently she managed to keep her son away from the poison cups being handed around. Selimy the rightful heir, succeeded to the throne on the death of the Sultan. But the mother of Mustapha, the next in line, never wavered from her ambitious designs. And so persistent was she that she actually succeeded in having Selim dethroned and Mustapha crowned. But this high-handed business in- furiated a certain faction of Turks. They stormed the palace, meaning to murder Mustapha and replace Selim. The palace gates were hurriedly closed. As the rebels pounded upon them, Mustapha's mother rushed assassins to slay both Selim end Aimee’s son Mahmoud. That would settle the question of succession! The assassins, spurred on by the shouts and fighting at the gates, found Selim first and stabbed him to death, But the defense he put up gave Mahmoud time to escape up the chimney and onto the roof. And before the murderers could reach him, the palace gates crashed down and a mob of Mahmoud's friends ran in to save him. Mustapha was in turn executed and Mah- moud and Aimee ruled the Turkish Empire from the Indian Ocean to the Adriatic Sea. At last, in her vast and magnificent place, “she had command.” Mahmoud, from childhood, had more than loved his mother. His regard had amounted to worship. She had been his wice and devoted counselor throughout all the dangerous days of his youth. Now that he was Sultan she be- came his entire ministry. Consequently, because Aimee, the real head of the government, was thoroughly French, and because her beloved cousin Josephine had be- come the empress of Napoleon's empire, Mah- moud threw all his political weight toward France in that country’'s wars against the rest of Europe. French officers came to train his army, French seamen helped man his warships, French guns drove off the British fleet from Constantinople. French fashions, French lan- guage, French schools, took possession of the Turks. Napoleon himself could not under=- stand why “Mahmoud” was such an extraordi= narily devoted ally. England was combpletely baffled. Even the Turks thought it strange. Everybody had forgotten that Mahmoud's mother, the veiled Empress, who sat quietly and Con'inued on Ninth Page.