Travels in France during the years 1814-1815, Patrick Fraser Tytler [best books to read for teens .TXT] 📗
- Author: Patrick Fraser Tytler
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[35] "You wish to see us drawn on hurdles to the scaffold."
[36] These nutshells.
[37] Swords of honour—guns of honour.
[38] Saucepan of honour.
[39] "Moreau was conversing with the Emperor Alexander, from whom he was only distant half a horse's length. It is likely, that they perceived from the place this brilliant staff, and fired on it at random. Moreau alone was struck; a cannon-ball broke his right knee, and passing through the horse's side, carried off the flesh of his left leg. The generous Alexander shed tears. Colonel Rapatel rushed towards Moreau, who uttered a long sigh, and then fainted. Returned to himself, he spoke with the utmost coolness. He said to Monsieur Rapatel, "I am lost, my friend, but it is so glorious to die for such a cause, and under the eyes of so great a Prince!" A few minutes afterwards, he said to the Emperor Alexander himself, "Nothing remains, Sire, save the trunk; but the heart is there, and the head is your's." He must have suffered the most excruciating pain; but he called for a segar, and quietly began smoking. Mr Wylie, first surgeon to the Emperor, hastened to amputate the limb, which was most severely used. During this cruel operation, Moreau scarce shewed a change of countenance, and did not cease to smoke his segar. The amputation performed, Mr Wylie examined the right leg, and found it in such a state, that he could not refrain from expressing his terror. "I understand you," said Moreau, "you must cut off this one too.—Well, do it quickly.—However, I would rather have died." He wanted to write to his wife; and he wrote to her, with a steady hand, these words:—"My Dear Friend,—The battle was decided three days ago.—I have had both legs carried off by a bullet—that rascal Bonaparte is always lucky. They have performed the amputation as well as possible. The army has made a retrograde movement, but it is not occasioned by any reverse, but from a manœuvre, and in order to approach General Blucher.—Excuse my scribbling.—I love you, and I embrace you with all my heart. I have charged Rapatel to finish."—Immediately after this, he said, "I am not without danger, I know it well; but if I die, if a premature fate hurry me from a beloved wife and child—from my country, which I have wished to serve in spite of itself; do not forget to say to the French, who shall speak of me, that I die with the regret of not having accomplished my projects—To free my country from the frightful yoke that oppresses her;—to crush Bonaparte-every species of war, every possible means, were laudable. With what joy would I have consecrated the little talent I posses to the cause of humanity. My heart belonged to France."
At seven o'clock, the sick man finding himself alone with Mr Svinine, said to him, with a faint voice, "I must absolutely dictate a letter to you."—Mr Svinine took up the pen, and sighing, traced the few following lines, dictated by Moreau.
"Sire,—I sink into the tomb with the same sentiments of respect, admiration, and devotion with which your Majesty has always inspired me, since I have had the happiness of approaching your person."
"In pronouncing these last words, the sick man stopped short and shut his eyes. Mr Svinine waited, thinking that Moreau was deliberating on the sequel of the letter—Vain hope—Moreau was no move."
[40] "Well, my good woman;—You expect the Emperor, don't you?" 'Yes, Sir; I hope we shall have a sight of him.' "Well, my good woman, what do you folks say of the Emperor?" 'That he is a great villain.' "Eh, my good woman; and what do you yourself say?" 'Shall I tell you frankly, Sir, what I think?—If I were the captain of the ship, I would only take him on board to drown him.'
[41] "The Commissaries, on arriving at Calade, found him with his head leaning on his two hands, and his face bathed in tears. He told them that people decidedly aimed at his life; and that the mistress of the inn, who had not known him, had told him that the Emperor was detested as a rascal, and that they would only embark him to drown him. He would eat or drink nothing, however pressed to it; and though he might have been assured by the example of those who were at table with him, he made them bring him some bread and water from his carriage, which he ate with avidity. They waited for night to continue the journey; they were only two leagues from Aix. The populace of that town would not have been so easily constrained, as in the other towns, where he had already run such risks. The Sub-Prefect, taking with him the Lieutenant and six of the gens-d'armes, rode towards Calade. The night was dark, and the weather very cold; which double circumstance protected Napoleon much better than would have been effected by the strongest escort. The Sub-Prefect and the guards met his suite a few instants after they had quitted Calade, and followed him till he arrived at the gates of Aix, at two in the morning. After having changed horses, Bonaparte continuing his route, passed under the walls of the town, and the reiterated cries of "Long live the King," which were shouted forth by the inhabitants assembled on the ramparts. Arrived at the limits of the Department, at an inn called the Great Pagere, he stopped there for breakfast. General Bertrand proposed to the Sub-Prefect to ascend to the room of the Commissaries, where all were at breakfast before his departure. Here were ten or twelve persons. Napoleon was of the number; he had the dress of an Austrian officer, and a helmet on his head. Seeing the Sub-Prefect in his councillor's habit, he said to him, "You would not have known me in this dress; it is these gentlemen who have made me take it, thinking it necessary to ensure my safety. I could have had an escort of 3000 men, which I refused, preferring to trust myself to French honour. I have not had reason to complain of that confidence from Fontainbleau to Avignon; but between that town and this, I have been insulted, and have been in great danger. The Provençals degrade themselves. Since I have been in France, I have not had a good regiment of Provençals under my orders. They are good for nothing but to make a noise. The Gascons are boasters, but at least they are brave."—At these words, one of the party, who no doubt was a Gascon, pulled out his shirt ruffle, and said, "that's pleasant." Bonaparte continuing to address himself to the Sub-Prefect, said to him, "What is the Prefect about?"—'He left this at the first news of the change which had happened at Paris.' "And his wife?" 'She had left it before.' "She then took the start. Do the people pay the revenue and the droits reunis?"—'Not a halfpenny.'—"Are there many English at Marseilles?" Here the Sub-Prefect related all that had lately passed in that port, and with what transports they had received the English. Bonaparte, who did not take much pleasure in such a recital, put an end to it, by saying to the Sub-Prefect, "Tell your Provençals that the Emperor is very ill pleased with them."
"Arrived at Bouilledon, he shut himself up in an apartment, with his sister (Pauline Borghese)—Sentinels were placed at the door. Notwithstanding which, some ladies arriving at the gallery, which communicated with that room, beheld there an officer in Austrian uniform, who said to them, "Ladies, what do you wish to see?" 'We wish to see Napoleon.' "But that's myself." The ladies, looking at him, said, smiling, 'You are joking, Sir; you are not Napoleon.' "I assure you, ladies, it is I.—What!—You thought Napoleon must have a more wicked appearance. Don't they say that I am a wretch, a rascal?"—The ladies did not care to undeceive him. Bonaparte, not wishing to press them hard on this subject, turned the conversation.—But always occupied with his first idea, he returned to it immediately.—"Acknowledge, at least, ladies, that now, when fortune is against me, they say that I am a wretch, a miscreant, and a marauder. But do you know the meaning of all this? I wished to make France superior to England, and I have failed in this project."
[42] "When we are on the paved streets of Paris, we perceive that the people do not there make the laws;—no convenience for pedestrians—no side pavement; the people seem to be a body separated from the other orders of the state—the rich and the great who possess equipages, have the right of crushing and mutilating them in the streets—a hundred victims expire every year under the wheels of the carriages."
[43] "Before the revolution, the village contained four thousand inhabitants. It furnished, as its share to the general service of the church, and of the hospitals, as well as for the instruction of youth, five ecclesiastics, two sisters of charity, and three schoolmasters. These last are replaced by a riding-master, a drawing-master, and two music-masters. Out of eight manufactories of woollen and cotton stuffs, there remains but one. But in revenge, there are established two coffee-houses, one tobacco-shop, one restaurateur's shop, and one billiard-room, which flourish in a manner quite surprising. We reckoned formerly forty ploughmen. Twenty-five of these have become couriers, riders, and coachmen. Their place is filled up by women, who conduct the plough, and who, to amuse themselves, carry occasionally to the market, carts full of straw or of charcoal. The number of carpenters, masons, and other artisans, is diminished by about a half. But the price of all articles of workmanship having risen also one half; it comes to the same thing, and a compensation is established. One class of individuals, which the villages furnishes in great
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