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SOME DETAILS 
 
 CO:SCEIlNING 
 
 GENERAL MOREAU, 
 
 HIS LAST MOMENTS. ~ 
 
 POILOWEB BX 
 
 A SHORT BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR. 
 
 BY PAUL SVININE. 
 
 lUAItGEl) TO ACCOMPANY THE GENERAL 02f THE CONTINEJTT 
 
 Second American from the London idiiio7i^ 
 
 TO WHICH IS ADDEDj 
 
 A FUHERAL OUATIOF, 
 
 PRONOUNCED AT ST, PETERSBURG, 
 
 IN HONOR OP 
 
 GEXEMAL MOEEIU. 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH* 
 
 BOSTON: 
 
 PRINTED BY ROWE AND HOOFSR. 
 
 ■ -^l^-v 
 

TO 
 
 MADAME MOREAU. 
 
 Madam, 
 
 I HAVE ventured ®n a sketch of tlie last epoeli of 
 
 yom* illustrioug liiisbaod's life 5 I feel how much I 
 have been unequal to the task I had imposed ou my- 
 self; hut if I liavs succeeded in expressing the admira- 
 tion I ever experienced for his simple and modest vir- 
 tues, and the regrets inspired by his loss, to every no- 
 ble and generous heart; if I have collected a few 
 eutlines which will not be disdained by those to whom 
 one day will belong the care ©f painting this great 
 eharacter 5 I dare believe, that you will not accuse 
 me of presumption, and that you will judge with in- 
 dulgence, of a recital, in which I have solely consult- 
 ed truth, and my own profound respect for the memory 
 ©f General Moreau. 
 
 Be pleased to accept, Madam, the assurance of 
 the profoundrespect, with which I have the honor to be, 
 Your very h«mbl«. 
 
 And obedient servant, P'. 8. 
 
 London, 1st jy*ovembiir, ISll^. 
 
SOiME DETAILS 
 
 CONCERNING -> 
 
 GEKESAL MOREAU, 
 
 &;c. ^c- Sfc, 
 
 The great militarj talents of General 
 Moreau were known to all Europe; but 
 much less known were his frank and loyal 
 character— his mild and affable manners : 
 his private virtues were such, as to induce 
 those who intimately observed him, to be- 
 lieve that he had confined himself to the 
 practice of domestic duties. On beholding 
 him, every one was surprised that so much 
 simplicity could be compatible with so much 
 glory. It is in this point of view that I under- 
 take to exhibit this great man j as well as 
 through the different circumstances attend- 
 ing his return to Europe, until the fatal mo- 
 ment which terminated so fair a life. Who? 
 alas ! could have supposed, when I was trac- 
 
 9^ 
 
 m 
 
ing the features of g^oodness, generosity, and 
 candoiir, which rendered him so dear to me, 
 and collecting the facts which prove with 
 what enthusiasm he was welcomed in Ger- 
 many, that I should have to fulfil the mourn- 
 ful duty of doing justice to his memory 1 
 
 It was in America that I first knew Gen- 
 eral oreau ; and I have subsequently had 
 frequent opportunities of seeing him In the 
 detail of his private life, constantly worthy 
 of his great name, and ever meriting the af- 
 fection of his neighbours, who distinguished 
 him solely by the title of oijr good Moreai^. 
 
 On his arrival on the transatlantic conti- 
 nent, General Moreau, his family having 
 been obliged to prolong their stay in Europe, 
 cho eto take ajourney of observation through 
 a country so abundant in new and extraordi- 
 nary aspects to the eye of a stranger. After 
 visiting the Falls of Niagara, he descended 
 the Ohio and Mississippi, returning after- 
 wards by land to the spot from whence he 
 set out. During this journey he acquired a 
 perfect knowledge of that part of America 
 
through which he passed ; which is a proof 
 of the habitual accomplishment he possessed} 
 as a military man, of ascertaining at a glance, 
 the situations which render a country remark- 
 able. 
 
 On his return from this journey he purchas- 
 ed a handsome country-house at Morrisville, 
 below the Fall of the Delaware. It was 
 there that he in part found the happiness of 
 •which his cruel rival had sought to deprive 
 him ; it was there that, surrounded by a 
 charming family, and steadfast friends, he 
 seemed so much to lose sight of the injustice 
 whose victim he had been, that he was never 
 heard to mention it, and rarely to name him 
 who was the author of it. 
 
 In all that Moreau said or did, it was evi- 
 dent that he himself wished to forget what 
 he had been, and was also desirous that others 
 should forget it ; but though in the first mo- 
 ment his perfectly artless manners and his un- 
 assuming tone, rendered it difficult to recog- 
 nize ill hhii, the great man, yet the contrast 
 t)f that simplicity with his great renown and 
 
8 
 
 Ms lofty deeds, soon filled the mind with ad« 
 miration, and there was no one who must not 
 with enthusiasm contemplate the hero in the 
 meek attire of his virtues and of his domes- 
 tic habitudes. 
 
 His fortune, though extremely lessened 
 by the persecutions directed against him, and 
 by the obligation which had been imposed 
 upon him of paying the enormous costs of 
 the law-proceedings in which he had been 
 basely implicated, afforded him the means of 
 gratifying his inclination towards hospitality 
 and the relief of the unfortunate. His was 
 an open house to his numerous friends ; it 
 breathed an inexpressible charm, compound- 
 ed of all that interest which must ever be 
 caused by the sight of a hero, proscribed, 
 yet superior to misfortune ; and of the ad- 
 miration which could not be v*'ithheld from 
 his young and beautiful consort, who embel- 
 lished his retreat vv ith talents and qualities 
 which had shone in the circles of one of the 
 first capitals in the universe. 
 
The situation of his estate afforded him 
 the free gratification of his taste for fishing 
 and hunting. There could not be any thing 
 more touching than to see him bring home 
 alone in a b at the fruits of these amuse- 
 ments, and revisit the bosom of his family, 
 ever most happy in hi.s return. 
 
 In the month of December he resumed his 
 residence in New-York, At that residence 
 he saw persons of all opinions and of all 
 parties 5 but his prudent reserve restrained 
 each within proper bounds. The voices of 
 faction were silent before him ; and he seem- 
 ed to impart to all about him thai spirit of 
 conciliation and impartiality which charac- 
 terized the whole of his conduct. It was 
 with regret if he ever engaged in politics ; 
 Indeed it might have been said, that having 
 found more happiness in the new world than 
 he could reasonably expect from it, he felt 
 repugnance in occupying himself with any 
 crisis which was then agitating or about to 
 agitate the old world. Yet the American 
 politicians consulted him as their oracle? and 
 
10 
 
 perceived with astoniiih!nent that almost all 
 his conjectures were in the sequel verified. 
 
 Great, however, as might be the aversion 
 he seemed to entertain from whatever re- 
 minded him of days marked with troubles 
 and misfortunes, he could not avert his 
 thoughts and his regards from his country 
 and the love he bore her, as well as the hope 
 of being one day recalled to contribute to- 
 ward the re-establishment of her repose and; 
 gbry, urged him congtantly to reject the bril- 
 liant offers, which were made: hioi, in order, 
 that he might devote his services to other 
 countries. But the.disiisters-which the.FrencJi 
 armies, had undergone, in Russia, so. aSicted 
 his heart on account of the warm attachment 
 he bore towards France? and- irritated him sq 
 strongly against the man in whom they origi- 
 nated, and v/ho in that enterprise, equally 
 barbarous and senseless, had sacrificed the 
 fiowerof the French warriors, that he thought 
 he could no longer refuse the aid of his tal- 
 ents toward the success of the common cause, 
 and toward the general deliverance. He 
 
11 
 
 ©ften said to me, in bitter sorrov/, ^' that man 
 heaps shame and o^robrium on the French 
 name. He lays up in store for my unhappy 
 country the hatred and curses of the uni- 
 verse. The French will soon he worse treat- 
 ed even than the Jews; more persecuted 
 than that very nation, proscribed as it is by 
 the contempt and the anathemas of every 
 other people." 
 
 Having lost the hope of seeing his coun- 
 try saved by some vigorous burst on the part 
 of his countrymen in the interior of France, 
 he thought it his duty to contribute to her 
 salvation by uniting himself to a power to 
 which no ambitious views with respect to 
 France could be imputed, and which had 
 taken up arms, only to repel the unjust ag- 
 gression of which the latter had been the 
 instrument. He consequently acceded to 
 the wishes of his Majesty the Emperor of all 
 the Russias ; but placing implicit trust in 
 iiimj whose generous and magnanimous 
 heart he was satisfied that he knew, ;||| re- 
 fused all the blFers made to him by his Im- 
 
12 
 
 perial Majesty's Minister to the United States, 
 and would not make utiy preliminary stipu- 
 lations ; there being no bounds to his confi- 
 dence in the Prince who invited him, and his 
 motives being totally different from those 
 which actuate military men under other cir- 
 cumstances, to enter into the service of a 
 foreign power. 
 
 Perceiving that the field of action was 
 about to open on the continent, he felt how 
 indispensable it was that he should be present 
 on the theatre of military operations before 
 the month of June, and I have several times 
 heard him express an impatient anxiety to 
 arrive soon enough for his counsels to be of 
 some use. But at the same time his heart 
 was agitated by cruel struggles, divided as 
 he was between his duty to his country, and 
 the love he bore to his consort and child, who 
 had both been in France ten months for the 
 sake of their health. He shuddered to leave 
 those two cherished beings under what he 
 ca^ed the claws of the tyrant, not being cer- 
 tain whether his consort had received the 
 
13 
 
 letters in which he informed her of his de- 
 parture. But it seems that notwithstanding 
 the great distance by which they were sep- 
 arated, these great souls had understood each 
 other, for in the month of May, General 
 Moreau received from his lady a communi- 
 cation, the secret of which he alone was able 
 to recognize, and of which none but she 
 could have conceived the allegory ; by this 
 he saw that she supposed he must go, and 
 that she had taken her measures accordingly. 
 At length he determined to set out in the 
 beginning of June. The Russian minister 
 immediately demanded from Admiral Cock- 
 burn a licence for an American vessel going 
 to Europe with a messenger ; the Admiral, 
 to whom the secret of thig voyage had been 
 confided, readily afforded every necessary 
 facility to it. All our anxiety was after- 
 Wards engrossed by the means of conceal- 
 ing our projected departure from the knowl- 
 edge of Napoleon's Minister who would not; 
 have failed either to despatch a French pri- 
 vateer to capture us, or to employ the whole 
 2 
 
14 
 
 power of his intrigues in order to detain us« 
 Our determination to wait the departure of 
 the Minister of the United States, who was 
 going to France in the Argus, occasioned 
 our own departure to be delayed some days. 
 
 At length on the 21st day of June, I em- 
 barked with General vloreau at Hell Gate, 
 on board the ship Hannibal, 550 tons bur- 
 then, and one of the best sailers in the 
 American marine. 
 
 We soon lost sight of the American coast, 
 and a favourable wind bn ught us on the 1st 
 of July to the Bank of Newioundland, where 
 we remained ten hours to fish for cod, a di- 
 version which afTordtd some relief to the 
 mind of General Moreau From tlierice un- 
 til we arrived off Gottenburg we did not see 
 a single sail, having a wiud constaDtiy fa- 
 vourable, and being surrounded b}^ logs 
 which seemed to protect us against the 
 French and American privateers, from whom 
 v^e had every thing to fear. I Gau?ed Gen- 
 eral Moreau to notice this, by telling him we 
 were evidently under the iEgis of Provi- 
 dence. 
 
15 
 
 On the 22d of July we made the coast of 
 Norway, and were hailed by ao English 
 frigate. It was the Hermodry, Capt. Chat- 
 ham. He, learning from me that General 
 Moreau was on board, leapt into his boat to 
 come and offer us all the services in his pow- 
 er. It was by him that General Moreau was 
 informed of the arrival of his consort in 
 England, which entirely dispelled the cloud 
 which had from time to time hung over his 
 brow during the passage. 
 
 On the 24th of July we entered the port 
 of Gottenburg. During the whole vayage 
 the General had enjoyed the most perfect 
 health J and reading was his favourite occu« 
 pation. I shall never forget this happy 
 epoch of my life. I gave myself up entire- 
 ly to the pleasure of hearing him discourse 
 on a great diversity of subjects. His man- 
 ner of expressing himself, though pure and 
 often elegant, was quite his own ; it partook 
 of the frankness of a warrior, and the polite- 
 ness of a man of the world. He laid open 
 his thoughts with clearness and ease ; so 
 
1^ 
 
 much had he read and observed, that he im- 
 parted the greatest variety and unabating 
 interest to our conversation. The only 
 topics oo which it was difficult to lead him 
 to speak, were the facts which constituted 
 his military glory, and the persecutions he 
 had suffered on the part of his enemies. He 
 could not pardon Bonaparte for the evils 
 which this man had caused France to suiier ; 
 but he forgave him all those with which he 
 had afflicted him. His angelic soul was a 
 stranger to hatred, and his heart rejected 
 every idea of private revenge. The only 
 matters I could gather from him as to his 
 imprisonment, related to the refusals and the 
 honest pride with which he incessantly op- 
 posed the insinuations of Napoleon's agents, 
 whose endeavours were to induce him to 
 make some advances toward the latter, 
 which might tend to an approximation.— 
 When Bonaparte had lost the hope of sacri- 
 ficing General Moreau, he sent F**** to the 
 Temple to propose to him the conditions on 
 vrhickhe would grant him his liberty an^ 
 
17 
 
 foe reconciled to him ; but they were dryly- 
 rejected by the General, who said he pre- 
 ferred his own lot to that of his persecutor. 
 When he arrived on the frontiers of Spain^ 
 the officer who had accompanied him thither 
 by order of the police, told him mysterious- 
 ly, that if he had any intention of writing to 
 the Emperor he might do so, and wait an 
 answer on the frontiers, which could not 
 fail to be prompt and favourable. The Gen- 
 eral answered that he would not write to the 
 person whom the officer called Emperor, nor 
 would he have any intercourse whatever 
 with him. On our passage he often spoke 
 to me with tenderness of General Pichegruj 
 whose great talents and energetic virtues he 
 admired, and whose lamentable end he inces- 
 santly deplored. He also delighted to ex- 
 patiate on the genius and military talents of 
 our immortal SouvorofF, of whom-, however, 
 he judged with impartial severity. . He had 
 taken some pains to correct the errors made 
 by the historians of that General, but unfor- 
 tunately the notes he had made on the sub- 
 
 9* 
 
18 
 
 ject, as well as many others equally interesl- 
 ing, were lost along with his library, in the 
 fire which consumed his country-house in 
 December, 1811. 
 
 On the 26th July, we landed at Gotten- 
 burg. The first visit of the General* was to 
 the Governor ; he was afterwards disposed 
 to view the town, but the eagerness of the 
 multitude, and their demonstrations of joyj 
 soon obliged him to give up the walk. 
 
 On the same day, he wrote to the Empe- 
 ror of Russia and to the Prince Royal of 
 Sweden. On the 27th, he paid a visit to 
 Marshal Von Essen. The latter General ? 
 expressing, with the frankness and sincerity 
 of an old soldier, the joy he felt at seeing 
 him, said to me, " You have brought us a 
 reinforcement of 100,000 men ; what pleas- 
 ure his arrival will alFord to our Prince Roy- 
 al, who is incessantly speaking of his friend, 
 General Moreau. How many times has the 
 Prince repeatedly told me, that Moreau was 
 born a general,— that he had the conception, 
 the glance, (coup d'oeli) the decision of a 
 great captain !" 
 
19 
 
 For more than a year, the report had been 
 spread in Sweden, that General Morean 
 would come into that kingdom. This report 
 originated in the following circumstance : 
 when the Prince Royal, accompanied by the 
 Marshal, repaired to Stockholm, he asked the 
 latter, every time that they passed a hand- 
 some country-house, " Is that to be sold ?" 
 and on the Marshal's observing to him, thai 
 the King had five superb castles ; his Royal 
 Highness answered, that the only object of 
 these questions was to find out a handsome 
 habitation for his friend. General Moreau. 
 
 During the few days that General Mo- 
 reau remained at Gottenburg, he busied him- 
 self among his country-equipage, that is to 
 say, he caused to be laid aside the greater 
 part of his effects, to be forwarded to Russiaj 
 and reserved only some maps, of which he 
 possessed a valuable collection, together with 
 a few changes of linen. Few men were 
 .nore limited than he was, in their personal 
 wants : he could do without every thing that 
 was not strictly necessary ; and a servant 
 
20 
 
 was, to him, almost a superfluity. When I 
 testified to him my great astonishment at 
 seeiiv^i him .so independent of all which con- 
 stitutes the indispensable necessaries of exist- 
 ence, he answered " Such should be the 
 life of a military man ; he must know how 
 to bear the want of every thing ,• never be 
 discouraged by privations; it is thus that we 
 made war. The General in chief had 
 scarcely a single carriage. Oar baggage 
 never encumbered our march ; and on our 
 retreat, we were never hampered with those 
 numerous equipages wiiich occasion the loss 
 of more men to an army than a retreat does." 
 He had a way of arranging his packages, 
 which deserves to be mentioned here : he 
 divided his money, his clothes, his linen, and 
 other necessary effects, as equally as possible, 
 and deposited portions in each of them, so 
 that he was almost certain of not being ex- 
 posed to the privations to which milirary 
 men, who are less provident, must ever b© 
 exposed by the chances of war. 
 
21 
 
 On tlie first of August we left Gotten- 
 burg ; from that moment our journey, as far 
 as Estadt, was, to Gen. Moreau, a triumph- 
 al procession ; every one disputed the hon- 
 our of seeing and having him at his house. 
 We almost constantly found the proprietors 
 of the castles in the neighbourhood of our 
 route, waiting for us, at the relays, to offer 
 their services to the General : he enchanted 
 eYcry body by his manners and his conver- 
 sation. 
 
 At Estadt W8 found a Svv'edish brig of war? 
 on board of which the General was conduct- 
 ed by the Swedish Admiral General, who 
 paid him the highest honours. The passage 
 lasted forty-eight hours ; and on the 6th of 
 August, v^e anchored in the road of Stral- 
 sund. I went first on shore to announce 
 our arrival to the commandant of the place, 
 who told me, that the General was expected, 
 and that an aide-da-camp had a letter to de- 
 liver to him from the Prince Royal. He 
 landed at noon, and was saluted with twenty 
 one guns ; the ship's crew being on the 
 
OC) 
 
 masts. He was received at the porl: by all 
 the Swedish generals and superior officers, 
 who accompanied him to the palace, through 
 the midst of the inhabitants, raising contin- 
 ual huzzas; and by the troops, who paid 
 him military honours. He was at dinner 
 v/ith the commandant, when the arrival of 
 the Prince Royal was announced to him— 
 he flew to meet hioi ; but as soon as the 
 Prince perceived him, he darted from his 
 carriage, rushed into his arms, and lavished 
 on him the warmest expressions of friend- 
 ship : this truly affecting interview drew 
 tears from all eyes. From that moment, 
 the first question which the Prince Royal put 
 to those who addressed him, was, "Have 
 you seen Moreau ?" 
 
 During the three days that these two greaS 
 men passed together, tiiey never quitted each 
 other ; they employed that interval in con- 
 certing the grand plan which is to give re- 
 po?e and happiness to the universe On the 
 foil J wing, day, they went to visit the fortiii- 
 cat'xns of Stralsuod, and were present when 
 
23 
 
 the English troops entered into that towii^ 
 under the command of General Glbbs.— 
 The General was much satisfitd at nndiog 
 here Coant Walmoden, vvith whom he had 
 a long conference. It was then, also, that 
 we were joined by Colonel Rapatcl, his 
 former aid-de-caoip. 
 
 We left Str.il^und at three o'clock in the 
 morning. ' What I have said of the manner 
 in which Moreau was received in Sweden, 
 scarcely affords an idea of the reception 
 given hioi in Prussia : — every one expressed, 
 in his own way, the joy which his presence 
 caused. The innkeepers refused his money 
 —the post masters furoi^hed him their best 
 horses ; scarcely did his cirriage prop an in- 
 stant ere it was surrounded by a mulritude 
 eager to see him and applaud iiim. He was 
 far from ascribing to himselfrtll this homage. 
 «' iliese good peopte," said he, *' pro^'e by 
 all these demoni^trations, the hatred they 
 bear to Bonaparte, and the desire which iini- 
 mates them to be forever freed frorn him/' 
 The effect caused by his presence, produced 
 
24 
 
 several touching scenes, from among which, 
 I shall only cite one, reniarkable for its sim- 
 plicity. At the gate of a small town, an old 
 grey-haired corporal asked me the name of 
 the traveller whom I accompanied, and as 
 soon as I had uttered that of General Mo- 
 reau, he repeated it thrice with great signs 
 of astonishment ; then with tears in his eyeSf 
 he eagerly seized the General's hand, and, 
 notwithstanding his efforts, lepeatedly kissed 
 it, calling him " our father, our father.'* He 
 then called loudly to three invalids, who com- 
 posed the whole guard of the gate, and form- 
 ed them in line to salute the General, who 
 was deeply affected by this simple and artless 
 testimony of the interest which his presence 
 inspired. 
 
 In proportion, as we advanced into a 
 country where every thing recalls to mind 
 the glory of the great^ Frederic, General 
 Moreau astonished me by the knowledge he 
 possessed, not only of the political and mili- 
 tary events which rendered it interesting, 
 but also of its manufacturing and territorial 
 
25 
 
 resources. Charles XII. and Frederic the 
 Great were his favorite heroes ; the first, on 
 account of his grand character and astonish- 
 ing intrepidity ; the second, on account of 
 that expanded genius and that vigorous soul 
 which never displayed their means to great- 
 er advantage, than in the midst of the great- 
 est reverses ; he admired him equally as a 
 sage, a hero, and a king, *' He," said the 
 General, " never abandoned his army when 
 surrounded by dangers ; nor was he ever at 
 a loss how to manage it in the midst of bat- 
 tles. His victories were the fruit of the 
 highest combinations ; seconded by a coup 
 d'oeil, the most accurate and just, by the rar- 
 est degree of sang froid, and by a courage 
 such as it best becomes a Sovereign to dis^ 
 play. The fury-tending tactics of Bona- 
 parte have entirely overthrown the art of 
 v/ar ; battles are now no longer any thing 
 but butcheries; it is not as formerly, by 
 sparing the blood of the soldiers, that a cam- 
 paign is terminated ; but, in fact, by making 
 that blood How in torrents. Napoleon has 
 3 
 
36 
 
 gained his victories solely by mortal dint of 
 men. ' 
 
 In passing to New Oremburg, where the 
 head quarters of the Prince of Sweden were, 
 the venerable Marsjial Steding, being inform- 
 ed of the arrival of Gentral Moreau, in- 
 stantly rose from table to go and invite him 
 to dinner. I never witnessed more concord, 
 more harmony, than in the reunion of those 
 brave warriors, who listened with enchant- 
 ment to a great man, whom they had until 
 then known only by his exploits. 
 
 We entered Berhn at eight o'clock in the 
 evening. As soon as the report was spread 
 of General Moreau's arrival in that capital, 
 the streets which terminated at his hotel, and 
 the rampart which fronted it, were filled by 
 a great multitude, who testified their joy by 
 huzzas a thousand times repeated. On the 
 next day, he went to pay a visit to his High- 
 ness Prince Frederic, and to his Excellency 
 the Russian Ambassador, General Suctelen, 
 and to General Bulow. We quitted Berlin 
 thn same day at noon, accompanied by a 
 
27 
 
 still more considerable multitude than that; 
 which had welcomed us the evening before. 
 On our way, we found in each town and 
 village, deserters from the French army, 
 mostly Germans and Italians, who all beg- 
 ged to serve among the allied troops. Among 
 them we found a single veteran who had serv- 
 ed under Moreau ; the rest were all but very 
 young. This brave man recognised, with 
 tears in his eyes, his former General, and as- 
 sured him that his memory was deeply en- 
 graven in the hearts of the French soldiers, 
 and also that Napoleon was so frightened at 
 this, that he had forbidden, under pain of 
 death, that any one should utter the name of 
 Moreau in the army, and declared that no- 
 thing was more false than the rumor of his 
 arrival on the continent. The veteran added, 
 that there now remained very few soldiers 
 who had fought in the former campaigns on 
 the Rhine ; that the greater part had perish- 
 ed in Russia, and that the small number of 
 those who had escaped that disastrous cam- 
 paign, was daily diminishing, on account of 
 
i>8 
 
 the necessity which existed of placing the ve- 
 terans in front, in order to animate and sus- 
 tain the children of whom the greater part of 
 Bonaparte's army was composed. The Gen- 
 eral chatted a pretty long while with him, 
 and on asking what was the motive which 
 induced hiai to desert, he answered, " My 
 General, there is no longer any pleasure in 
 serving in the French army ; nothing is to be 
 seen there but children, who never consent 
 to fight until their ears have been stunned by 
 the roar of two hundred pieces of cannon." 
 
 Near Olau we met General Pozzo di Bor- 
 go, who informed us that the Austrians had 
 joined the allies, and spoke of the impatience 
 with which Mor.eau w^as expected at head 
 quarters. 
 
 Having learnt at Glatz that the Emperor 
 was to pass the night at Ratiboschitz, we di- 
 rected our way toward that place, where we 
 arrived unfortunately two hours after his 
 Imperial IVbjesty had quitted it for Prague. 
 
 When we entered the high road leading 
 to Prague, we found it covered with the 
 
2§ 
 
 Russian park of artillery. The General ad- 
 mired the steadiness of the men, the beauty 
 of the draught horses, the lightness of the 
 carriages and of the cannons. " It is thus>" 
 said he, " that the thunders of war should 
 be borne ; the appearance of your artillery 
 already explains to me the superiority it has 
 maintained during the late campaigns." He 
 caused our carriage to go slower, in order to 
 examine this branch of our military material, 
 more in detail. 
 
 We soon found ourselves in the midst of 
 the Imperial Russian Guard, and the name 
 of General Moreau, which immediately flew 
 from mouth to mouth, made the most lively 
 impression on those brave men. The Gene- 
 rals Miloradovitz, Ermoloif, and Rosen, hast- 
 tened to come and testify to him tneir satis- 
 faction at seeing him in the army, and accom= 
 panied us to a great distance. Contentment 
 was exhibited on all faces ; our young offi- 
 cers rushed before our carriage to contem- 
 plate their great model The General be- 
 stowed just praise on their good behaviour 
 3-^ 
 
30 
 
 and their martial air. " Behold," said he to 
 me, '* the heroes of Pultu^k, of Eyiau, of 
 Smolensk ; one might undertake every thing 
 with such men." 
 
 We were compelled, by an accident which 
 happened to our carriage, to remain four 
 hours at Konigsgratz, which afforded the 
 General time to go and visit the Prince Roy- 
 al of Prussia, who was in the town. The 
 young Prince received him with the most 
 charming manners; warmly expressed to him 
 the joy he felt on seeing him ; and during a 
 conversation of some hours spoke to him 
 chiefly of his campaigns, which he had very 
 sedulously studied. 
 
 On the 16th of August, at eight o'clock 
 in the evening, we arrived at Prague ; it was 
 the evening before the rapture of the armis- 
 tice. Scarcely had we alighted when the 
 General sent me with Col. Rapatel to receive 
 the orders of his Majesty the Emperor \lex- 
 der, whom we found just on the point of go- 
 ing out v^'ith the Emperor of Austria to the 
 theatre. Colonel Rapatel received orders to 
 
31 
 
 be at the Palace after the phy was over» 
 His Mcijesrj, after expressing to him the en- 
 tire satisfaction which General Vioreau's ar- 
 rival gave him, told the Colonel he supposed 
 he would take repose after the long and fa- 
 tiguing journey he had just performed, and 
 that he himseif would postpone until next day 
 the pleasure of receiving him. At the same 
 time the Emperor sent one of his aids-de- 
 camp to compliment the vjeneral. 
 
 On the next day at half past eight in the 
 morning, i was going out of our apartment, 
 when I met the Emperor jast about to enter : 
 I had but just time to apprize the General of 
 the arrival of his Majesty, who embraced as 
 soon as he addressed him ; and quitted him 
 after a very animated conversation, which 
 lasted t vo hours. On quitting his Majesty, 
 the General came to nie with tears in his 
 eyes, and said to me in a softened voice, 
 *< Ah ! my dear S — — , what a man is the 
 Emperor ! from this moment I have con- 
 tracted the svveet and sacred obligation of 
 sacrificing my life for him. There is no one 
 
32 . 
 
 who would not die to serve him. How much 
 are all the flattering reports which I have 
 heard relative to him, how much are all the 
 prepossessions I had enterlained in favor of 
 him, beneath that angel of goodness !" 
 
 The General then repaired to the Castle, 
 where his Majesty presented him to their Im. 
 perial Highnesses the Grand Duchesses of 
 Weimar and of Oldenburg. He was en- 
 chanted with their wit, their mental acquire- 
 ments, and their manners. On quitting them 
 he went to visit the Ministers and the Gene» 
 rals. In the evening he had a very interest- 
 ing conversation with Count Metternich. 
 
 On the 1 8th at noon the General was pre- 
 sented by his Majesty the Emperor of Russia 
 to his Majesty the Emperor of Austria, who 
 received him with the greatest marks of dis- 
 tinction, and among other things, thanked 
 him for the moderation and mildness he had 
 constantly shewn on every occasion, during 
 the period of the campaigns on the Rhine ; 
 adding, that the personal character of the 
 General had very much contributed to db 
 
33 
 
 minish the evils of war with regard to the 
 subjects of his Imperial Majesty. 
 
 His Majesty the King of Prussia had just 
 arrived at Prague. The Emperor Alexan- 
 der earnestly desired to }»resent the Geileral 
 to him, but foreseeing at the same time that 
 the latter, having to set out the next day for 
 the army, had scarcely time sufficient for 
 preparations of the most indispensable kind, 
 his Majesty invited the General to go and 
 wait his orders at home. We were so wait- 
 ing when all on a sudden the Emperor 
 entered with the Kin^ of Prussia, and ad- 
 dressing himself to the General said, ^' Gen- 
 eral Moreau ; his Majesty the King of Prus- 
 sia." This Prince accosted him by saying, 
 that he had come " with a great deal of 
 pleasure to see a General so renowned for 
 his talents and his virtues." He then added 
 in a more touching tone, *' how much he 
 admired the motives which had urged him 
 to repair to the army of the allies, and how 
 much he relied on his talents and his virtues 
 for the success of the common cause." The 
 
34 
 
 two Sovereigns then closeted themselves 
 ^\lth him lor two hours. 
 
 In treating Moreau with so much distinc- 
 tion, the Emperor shewed that h . knew, from 
 the Dature of his own heart, what was cal- 
 culated to captivate that of a great man. 
 Decorations and rewards of all kinds were 
 nothing in comparison with that reception, in 
 which his Imperial Majesty for an instant 
 forgat the supreme rank, in order by a bril- 
 liant, advance, to honor a man whose milita- 
 ry renown vras his least merit. The latter 
 felt It so deeply, that he could not speak in 
 cool deliberate terms of that august Sover- 
 eign, and when he heard him once called by 
 one of the Generals, '^ the best of Princes," 
 he replied briskly, *' how, Sir ? say the best 
 of men." 
 
 The General told me that his Imperial 
 Majesty had stated to him in a few hours the 
 preceding campaign in a manner so precise, 
 so clear, and with observations so just, com- 
 ments so profound, that he fancied he was 
 listening to the most experienced of Gene- 
 
35 
 
 rals. He permitted himself to put the most 
 detailed qnestion to the I'mperor ; vvhic'i 
 gave his Majesty occasion to explain nil U:.q 
 marches and all the oianoeiivres f the m ovles, 
 and in that manner to supply whatever was 
 obscure or incomplete in the officii] reports, 
 which were the o.ily docuaients which t!ie 
 Gc;neral had read in America, in order to 
 form an idea of those movements. After 
 thi.T conversation I often heard vloreau say, 
 that if any thing ijipaired the ma y perfec- 
 tions with which the Emperor was enuawed, 
 it was an excess of modesty. He also pro- 
 fessed the highest admiration of the Grand 
 Duchess of Oldenburg; ; '* she is," said he, 
 ** the great Catheiine herself; her genius 
 astonishes ; and her manners captivate all 
 who know her." 
 
 On the 1 9th, in the evening, Moreau set 
 out for the army with one of his Imperial 
 Majesty',^ .dds-de-caaip, and left me with Col- 
 onel ^^.apatel to make those arrangements 
 which his nuaierous visits prevented h'lm from 
 attending to. We were to rejoin him next 
 day. 
 
36 
 
 How sweet was it for me to hear, after his 
 departure, the encomiums which every one 
 passed upon him. In two days he had won 
 all hearts ; his frankness and his noble sim- 
 plicity had removed all ideas of jealousy 
 whica might have arisen against him on wit- 
 nessing, the welcome with which he had been 
 received; Every one highly applauded the 
 unlimited confidence which his Imperial Ma- 
 jesty placed in him. The General himself 
 had charged me to repeat to all those who 
 inquired about him, that he had no other am- 
 bition than to concur, with his means and 
 experience, to the success of the common 
 cause, the triumph of which must necessa- 
 rily restore happiness and peace to his own 
 coun ry, in the bosom of whch he wished to 
 close his days in the practice of the domestic 
 virtues. 
 
 Colonel Rapatel and myself had the hon- 
 our to be presented on the 20th- to their Im- 
 perial Highnesses the Grand Duchesses of 
 Weimar and Oldenburg, for whom General 
 Moreau had left us a letter. We had every 
 
37 
 
 eason to be satisfied with the gracious recep- 
 tion they gave us. Their Highnesses asked 
 us a host of questions about our General, 
 and required us to let them know every par- 
 ticular of his manner of living in the New 
 World. We had the pleasure to hear them 
 express themselves with regard to him in 
 terms of heartfelt admiration ; they said they 
 had never seen a man so well deserving of 
 renown, and, having so just a right to make 
 the highest pretensions, to be at the same 
 tinie so modest, so simple, and so frank. 
 Their Imperial Highnesses, in an audience 
 they gave me on the following day, charged 
 me to remind General Moreau, that they ea- 
 gerly expected news of him, and to urge him 
 speedily to let them have his consort along 
 with them ; adding, that no one in the world 
 interested them so much as Madame Moreau. 
 The Grand Duchess Catherine gave Colonel 
 Rapatel a letter for the General 
 
 On the 25th, we rejoined him at Roichstadt, 
 six miles from Dresden, From thence, he 
 immediately set out on his approach to that 
 4 
 
38 
 
 eapital, and in this journey, as in all others, 
 accompanied his Majesty the Emperor. The 
 whole of the next day, he also passed on 
 horseback, accompanying his Imperial Ma- 
 jesty, and his Prussian Majesty. The attack 
 on Dresden commenced at four o'clock in the 
 afternoon, and towards evening became very 
 serious ; the town was seen to be on fire in 
 twelve places. At eight o'clock, the General 
 made a sign to me to follow him, and we 
 descended into the valley, where the Aus- 
 trian cavalry was ranged in order of battle. 
 He went along the front of the columns with 
 the greatest rapidity, in the midst of bullets 
 and bombs which fell on all sides, and stopt 
 only to speak to General Chastler, who re- 
 ceived him with every demonstration of the 
 most lively interest and respect. The Gen- 
 eral then moved further in advance, to recon- 
 noitre the batteries of the enemy. We ever 
 experience, when near a hero, a feeling of 
 assurance ; this sentiment, in the present in- 
 stance, hindered nie from rejecting on the 
 perils that surrounded me ; but seeing with 
 
39 
 
 what temerity Moreau exposed himself, and 
 feeling of what high value his life was to us, 
 I warmly expressed to him my fears, conjur- 
 ing him to think on the deep sorrow which 
 would be spread among the allies by the loss 
 of the man on whom so many of their hopes 
 rested. He listened to me, and resolved to 
 return and be near the Emperor. We were 
 lighted on our w^ay by the flames of Dresden 
 then burning, and by the explosion of the 
 bombs which fell at some distance*from us. 
 We found the Emperor Alexander uneasy 
 respecting what had become of Moreau, 
 whom he had seen at his side the whole day. 
 The latter gave his Imperial Majesty an ac« 
 count of the positions of the enemy at all 
 points. 
 
 In the night, he had an occasion of becom- 
 ing known to His Imperial Highness the 
 Archduke Constantine, who came to an- 
 nounce, that the intention of the enemy w^as 
 to debouche on the right. 
 
 The accounts given by the prisoners, con- 
 firmed the arrival of iiOnaparte at Dresden, 
 
at one in the afternoon, with 60,000 men, 
 part of whom, who were his guards, had 
 been brought in post carriages. 
 
 It was during this day, that two Wurtem- 
 ^3urg regiments passed over, with drums beat- 
 ing, to our side, and took their stations im- 
 mediately among our troops. 
 
 The 27th, (a fatal day ! which was marked 
 by a catastrophe so afflicting to all Europe, 
 so terrible to France, and so cruel toward 
 the friends of order, and the admirers of real 
 glory !) the weather was dreadful ; the rain, 
 w^hich fell in torrents, scarcely allow^ed any 
 use to be made of the artillery ; and in spite 
 of every precaution, the muskets were so 
 penetrated by the wet, that they became use- 
 less in the hands of the soldiers. Towards 
 noon, Moreau was communicating some mil- 
 itary observations to his Imperial Majesty, 
 who was at a very short distance, when a 
 ball from one of the enemy's batteries, which 
 was aiming to dismount one of ours, behind 
 which these great persons w^ere conversing, 
 shattered to pieces the right knee of the 
 
41 
 
 General, and passing through his horse, car= 
 ried away the calf of his other leg. It would 
 be difficult to represent the grief which my 
 Sovereign endured at the sight of this dread- 
 ful blow ; he was affected by it even to tears? 
 and hastened in person, to administer to the 
 hero who had just been struck, all the succour 
 and consolation that might either sooth or 
 re-assure him. Colonel Rapatel had flown 
 to his side to receive him in his arms : " I 
 am lost, my dear Rapatel,'* said he, '* but it 
 is most sweet to die for so good a cause, and 
 before the eyes of so great a Prince." The 
 Colonel sought to disguise from him his sad 
 condition ; saying, it was easy to save him, 
 and if a man like him had his head and his 
 heart left, he might still hope to do great ser- 
 vices, and to run a glorious career. But the 
 General, though unwilling to damp the hopes 
 of friendship, shewed, by his silence, that he 
 could have no faith in these prognostics, and 
 that already his great soul had perceived 
 death without affright. 
 
 A litter was hastily made with the pikes 
 
4a 
 
 of the Cossacks; they covered him with 
 some cloaks, and carried him away to a 
 house less exposed to the fire of the enemy. 
 It was there that M. Welly, first surgeon to 
 his Majesty the Emperor Alexander, directly 
 amputated the right leg above the knee : 
 when this first operation was terminated, the 
 General begged him to examine the other, 
 and to tell him if it was possible to save it ; 
 but on receiving for answer, that this was im- 
 possible, *' well then, take it off," said he, 
 coolly. I have no need to tell what invaria- 
 ble firmness he displayed in the midst of the 
 torments of both these amputations, or the 
 care he himself took to console those whom 
 he saw weeping over his sufferings ; their 
 tears he reproached them with, as marks of 
 a pusillanimous friendship. 
 
 In a short time, notwithstanding all the 
 efi^jrts that had been emplo} ed to conceal 
 this catastrophe fiom the armies, the news 
 spread rapidly, and caused a general conster- 
 nation. I'he army having received orders 
 to make a movement to approach that of 
 
43 . 
 
 General Blucher, Moreau was removed t^ 
 Passendorf, where he passed the night : he 
 had a short, but tranquil slumber, and very 
 little fever ; he took only a httle soup, and 
 some wine and water. 
 
 On the 28th5 at four o'clock in the morn« 
 ing, we placed him on litters better contrived 
 than the other, and furnished with curtains. 
 Forty Croats were ordered out to carry him, 
 and ten Cossacks of the guard served him as 
 an escort. The morning w^as very rainy ; 
 the General frequently asked for water to 
 refresh his mouth, and on arriving at Dip- 
 poideswaiden, he took a little bread in some 
 soup. He seemed very tranquil, and even 
 he ilthy. I had an opportunity of seeing here 
 the King of Prussia, who was repairing to 
 Topiitz. His Majesty inquired most press'- 
 ingly of me concerning his condition, which 
 seemed deeply to affect him, and said to me, 
 " I should consider his death as the greatest 
 misfortune that could befall me." We con- 
 tinued our route toward the frontiers of Bo- 
 hemia ; and having halted at four o'clock to 
 
44 
 
 give hime some repose, the Croats who car- 
 ried him were relieved by some Prussian 
 guards. We were afterwards met by the 
 Emperor and his suite. His Majesty having 
 learnt from me that the General was not 
 asleep, approached him, made the most ten- 
 der inquiries respecting his health, and spoke 
 a few words to him respecting the positions 
 occupied by the army. We arrived at night 
 fall, at head-quarters. I cannot describe the 
 affliction occasioned among all the troops by 
 the view of this General, who, some days 
 ago, had been the object of so many hopes 
 and so much enthusiasm, thus borne on a 
 litter and so grievously wounded. How 
 many tears did I see flow down cheeks cov- 
 ered with glorious scars! How many noble 
 and courageous hearts have I seen unable to 
 bear such an affecting picture ! 
 
 Notwitlistanding the fatigues of the jour- 
 ney, the Geueral was in a condition which 
 gave hopes, wiiich were the better founded, 
 since the fever vvas considerably diminished. 
 M. Welly confirmed those hopes by a report 
 
45 
 
 on the state of the patient. He relied on the 
 purity of his blood, which he found to be 
 most extraordinary, and on that greatness of 
 soul which prevented the agitation of the 
 mind from envenoming his bodily sufferings. 
 He added, however, that there was scarcely 
 a single example of recovery from such se- 
 vere wounds. 
 
 On the 29th, the Emperor supposing that 
 the General might bear the motion of a car- 
 riage, sent him his own coach and six; but ac- 
 cording to the advice of the surgeon, it w^as 
 resolved, that he should be still borne on a 
 litter ; and a company of Russian grenadiers 
 were allotted to us for that purpose. Though 
 the road across the mountains was frightful, 
 and toilsome even for a man in good health, 
 the General supported the fatigues and in- 
 conveniences attending it without exhibiting 
 the slightest symptom of weakness ; and 
 we found in that amazlag fortitude and im- 
 moveable constancy, new grounds of hope. 
 We met with abrupt mountains and sudden 
 declivities i sometimes the roads we had to 
 
46 
 
 cross were overwhelmed by torrents; at 
 other times the footpaths bounded by deep 
 precipices and roaring gulfs, hardly afforded 
 room for the bearers of the General to walk 
 in line. Thus, to the deep concern which 
 his wounds occasioned us, w^ere united ap- 
 prehensions almost as terrible respecting the 
 dangers of the road. The Emperor overtook 
 us, half-way, with his suite, and failed not, 
 in person, to ask the General how he found 
 himself, forbearing however to make him 
 speak too much, and to advert to subjects 
 w^hich might occasion him any agitation. We 
 then stopt to give him some tea ; he had not 
 ceased during the day, to refresh his mouth 
 with cold water, which appeared to afford 
 him an agreeable sensation ; but which ex- 
 cited in me some vague fears, lest he should 
 not be so well as he looked. 
 
 When we descended into the great valley, 
 we could distinctly hear a very brisk cannon- 
 ade and saw two villages and the town of 
 Tu: - ■: ' fijups. We retbubled our steps 
 ' '-^mkQl^ UiJmk:^.. .---ere 
 
47 
 
 the headquarters of the Emperor wera ; we 
 arrived there late. At eleven in the evening, 
 the first dressings were removed, and the 
 wounds appeared to be in a favorable state ; 
 they vv-ere beginning to close, and shewed 
 very little inflammation. It was in this 
 place, that we heard of the victory obtained 
 by the Russian guards, under the command 
 of Count Osterman Tolstoy, over the corps 
 of G-eneral Vandamme, which was iDfiniiel}^ 
 superior to them in number. When I re- 
 lated to General Moreau, the repeated acts 
 of valour, by which our brave men. had dis- 
 tinguished themselves in this affliir : he said 
 to me, " vVe must naturally expect the great- 
 est things from the best troops in the world." 
 All the generals and officers who were at 
 head quarters, came to make inquiries about; 
 Inm, in the most earnest anxiety. 
 
 On the 30th, at noon, we arrived at Laun; Mvl\£'>v 
 and going on to Berlin, which afiords excel- 
 lent mineral waters, the General desired to 
 have some bottles of it, v»'hich I procured for 
 him. During the vvbole journey he had coo- 
 
48 
 
 tinned to refresh his mouth with spring wa- 
 ter, and to drink some, mixed with wine ; 
 and moreover, he seemed to us extremely 
 tranquil. It was at Laun we heard of the 
 total defeat of the corps of Vandamme, and 
 of that Commander's being made prisoner. 
 All the details on this combat, so much like 
 that of Thermopylae, excited his warmest ad- 
 miration. 
 
 Iiaving learnt that the Swedish Minister 
 was to despatch a courier in the evening, the 
 General desired to write to Madame Mo- 
 reau. We in vain observed to him, that he 
 would run the risk of fatiguing himself very 
 much by writing with his own hand ; he per- 
 sisted in his resolution and it was on a desk 
 which I held before him that he wrote with 
 a tolerable steady hand, this letter, which in 
 its brief, yet concise contexture, gives the lie 
 anthenticaily to the calumnies which Napo- 
 leon has spread abroad, respecting the man- 
 ner in whicli this great man bore the dread- 
 ful blow with v^hich he had been struck. 
 Here is the letter : 
 
49 - 
 
 «< My dear friend, at the battle of Dres- 
 den, three days ago, I had both legs carried 
 away by a cannon shot. That scoundrel, 
 Bonaparte, is always lucky. 
 
 «' The amputation has been performed as 
 well as possible. Though the army has 
 made a retrograde movement, it is not di- 
 rectly backward, but sideways, and for the 
 sake of getting nearer General Blucher. Ex- 
 cuse my scrawl : I love thee, and embrace 
 thee with ray whole heart. I charge Rapa- 
 tel to finish. V. M." 
 
 The General then shewed a great inclina- 
 tion to chat ; but we complied with it as little 
 as possible, well knowing how dangerous 
 that would be in his situation. We were 
 rather disposed to keep every body out of his 
 apartment but we could not refuse to let in 
 his Royal Highness the Duke of Cumber- 
 land who staid nearly a quarter of an hour 
 with him. This Prince told him, " he was 
 very happy in becoming acquainted with 
 him ; but his happiness would have been still 
 5 
 
50 
 
 greater, had he formed that acquaintance on 
 the field of battle." The General answered, 
 «' That they might probably meet together 
 there, in six weeks." 
 
 Alas! at the moment when hope was dawn- 
 ing on his heart, it was leaving ours ; and 
 on seeing him thus rely on the recovery of 
 his health, we the more deeply felt the con- 
 cern which his situation caused us. Count 
 Metternich afterwards came on the part of 
 the Emperor of Austria, to testify to him all 
 the interest which his Majesty took in his 
 condition, and quitted him after a conversa- 
 tion of ten minutes. Until midnight he re- 
 mained very tranquil ; but all at once, a hick- 
 up and frequent vomitings having come on 
 him, it was no longer possible to be mistaken 
 as to the degree of danger he was in. 
 
 On the 31st, the same symptoms continu- 
 ed, and never left him a moment of repose, 
 so that he sunk into a state of great weak- 
 ness. The cold of death had already reach- 
 ed his intestines, when the news of General 
 Blucher's victory seemed to reanimate him, 
 
51 
 
 and to spread through every sense, a reviv- 
 ing b^lm ; but this apparent change for the 
 better, could not alter our mournful forebod- 
 ings. 
 
 On the 1st of September, the physicians 
 had succeeded in removing the hickup; and 
 he expressed a most earnest desire to be^ 
 borne on to Prague ; but he was so vi^eak, 
 that we made him feel he could not bear the 
 journey. He then said, it was perhaps pos- 
 sible to go by water; and inquired, if there 
 was not some point of communication v/ith 
 the Moldau, maintaining, that at ail events,' 
 the journey, as far as that river, was not too 
 long for him to venture upon. He examined 
 the map several times, in order to ascer- 
 tahi, if what he desired could be execotpcl. 
 He Avas busied in this examinaticn, and I 
 was alone with him, wlien he heard shouts, 
 v/hicli came from the street. He hfid the 
 curiosity to learn the cause ; and on my 
 telling him, they were occasioned by the ar- 
 rival of General Vandamme, Vv^ho w^as mak- 
 ing his entrance into the town, amidst the 
 
52 
 
 liootings of the multitude; he said to me, 
 with astonishing warmth, "It is high time 
 that monster should be put out of condition 
 for doing harm !" and he then was silent. 
 He testified the greatest pleasure on being 
 told, that Vandamme having complained to 
 the Grand Duke Constantine, of the ill treat- 
 ment they made him experience, by refusing 
 him his aide-de-camp, and taking him in an 
 open carriage, which might expose him to 
 the insults of the populace ; that Prince an- 
 swered, " that the harshest treatment would 
 be even generosity toward a man, sullied 
 like him, with the blackest crimes," and af- 
 terwards his Imperial Highness caused his 
 sword to be taken from him, which, through 
 an excess of goodness, the Emperor Alexan- 
 der had allowed that he should retain. The 
 General sent Colonel Rapatel and me to go 
 and look at Vandamme ; I found him de- 
 claiming against Bonaparte, whom he accus- 
 ed of having abandoned, sacrificed, betrayed 
 him. I left this maniac in the midst of his 
 paroxysmsiof fury, and returned to tell what 
 I had seen of him. 
 
53 
 
 All night, from the 1st to the 2d of Sep.- 
 tember, the unfortunate Moreau was restless, 
 yet he did not seem to be in pain. He never 
 ceased consulting his repeater, and calling 
 sometimes Colonel Rapatel, and sometimes 
 me, to write, after his dictation, a letter to 
 the Lmperor. At length, toward seven in 
 the morning, finding myself alone with him, 
 he made me take up the pen, and dictated 
 to me the following lines : 
 
 " Sire, 
 
 " I go down to the grave with the same 
 
 sentiments of admiration, respect, and devo- 
 
 tedness, which your Majesty inspired me 
 
 with, from the first moment of our inter- 
 
 He had got on thus far, when he closed 
 his eyes. I thought he was meditating on 
 what he was going to dictate to me, and I 
 held the pen ready to follov.^ him — but, he 
 was no more ! The best, the noblest of men 
 was no more ! Death had imprinted on his 
 5* 
 
54 . 
 
 countenance na sign of suffering, or of con- 
 vulsion; he appeared to sleep a peaceful 
 slumber, peaceful as was his heart at the 
 moment when he was struck. It was then 
 within five minutes of seven o'clock. During 
 his short but painful catastrophe, never had 
 his cool firmness forsaken him ; on seeing 
 our tears and our sadness, he himself took 
 care to console us ; ** iviy friends," said he, 
 " what good is there in mourning ? thus has 
 Providence willed it; we must submit with» 
 out a murmur." On the evening before, 
 wishing to announce to him, in the most 
 gentle, and sparing manner, that the physi- 
 cians had no longer any hopes, we spoke to 
 him of his unalterable tranquility, of that 
 calmness with which he beheld the pro^;ress 
 of his disorder, &c. &c. ^ My friends," an- 
 swered he, without permitting us to enter 
 into particulars. '' it is because I have no- 
 thing wherewith to reproach myself." Thus 
 ended this hero, consecrat'ng his last action 
 anri his last thought to the Sovereign whom 
 he rightly regarded as the prmcipal repairer 
 
55 
 
 of the wrongs and ills of Europe, as him to 
 whom France would one day owe the fall of 
 her tyrant, and the re-establishment of her 
 happiness on the just and solid basis of legiti- 
 macy. This was the observation I made to 
 my Sovereign when I announced to him this 
 sad intelligence. 
 
 On arriving at Toplitz, I found his Impe= 
 rial Majesty assisting with the Emperor of 
 Austria, and the King of Prussia at a Te 
 Deum, which was sung in the midst of the 
 army to celebrate the victories just obtained 
 over Bonaparte. I did not think proper to 
 disturb his Majesty while entertaining all the 
 consoling ideas, all the happy presages which 
 this cerem ny doubtless presented to hisi 
 mind ; I waited until the close, to fuliil the 
 sad duty which brought me to Toplitz. His 
 Majesty's emotions were extreme when I an- 
 nounced to him the death I had witnessed. 
 He deigned to take me by the hand, and to 
 say to me in a tone of the severest grief, 
 '^ that was a great man ; a very noble heart." 
 
56 
 
 On quitting his Majesty T w^s surrounded 
 by all the Generals and aids de-camp who 
 were there ; and I felt some consolation at 
 witnessing the tributes of praise, and even 
 the tears, which those brave warriors bestow- 
 ed on his memory. I saw several who re- 
 gretted that the stroke which had carried olF 
 that great man, had not taken them away in 
 his stead. 
 
 At eight o'clock his Imperial Majesty hav- 
 ing caused me to come into his cabinet, gave 
 me the following orders : — 1. To convey the 
 body of the General to Prague to be embalm- 
 ed. 2. To entrust it to Colonel Rapatel, 
 whom his Im}»erial Majesty charged to ac- 
 company it to St. Petersburg, in order to be 
 interred in the Catholic church with all the 
 funeral honours which had been paid to 
 Marshal Prince KoutousofT. " Let us endea- 
 vour at least to honor his memory," said the 
 Emperor to me. His Majesty then ordered 
 me to enter into all the details which con- 
 cerned General Moreau, his wife, his daugh- 
 ter, his fortune ; and desired that i shoui 
 
57 
 
 set out with a letter written by his own hand 
 to Madame Moreaii : " It is a consolation 
 which I cannot withhold from Madame Mo- 
 reau, that of sending you to wait upon her," 
 said his Majesty, " she will be interested at 
 seeing a man who Vv^as with her husband un- 
 til his last moment." 
 
 I have hear(j^it said that when the question 
 arose between the two other Sovereigns and 
 the Emperor Alexander, respecting their 
 claims to the body of General Moreau, this 
 Prince said, ** his ashes are too dear to me 
 to let oie forego the ambition of possessing 
 them in 'my capital.'* Indeed, the most dis- 
 tinguished homage which his Imperial Majes- 
 ty has rendered to the memory of that Gen- 
 eral, is the letter of which he madn me the 
 bearer, to Madame Moreau, It is impossible 
 to read without the most tender emotion and 
 admiration, those expressions at once touch„ 
 ing and noble, which the Emperor has em° 
 ployed to soften a grief, the extent of which 
 he estimated by the regrets he himself expe- 
 rienced. Greatness never employed a mora 
 
58 
 
 worthy language, nor pity more sweet con- 
 solations. Every thing, in that expansion 
 of an elevated soul and a pure heart, be- 
 speaks the sovereign who protects, and the 
 friend who consoles. There is nothing in it 
 that breathes either formality or affectation ; 
 it is the impulse of the liveliest sensibility and 
 the truest grief. Whatever ^tnay be written 
 of Greneral Moreau will never be capable of 
 equalling the tribute of regret and of eulogy 
 paid to his memory in those immortal lines ; 
 and if any one inquire of his desolated wid- 
 ow, she will doubtless say that they have re- 
 stored her to the consciousness of existence, 
 that they have recalled her from the brink 
 of the grave, and that in reading them she 
 has been enabled to conceive that it was pos- 
 sible not to sink under the most poignant 
 grief with which the human heart can possi- 
 bly be afflicted. Here is that letter. 
 
 *' AIadaiM, 
 *' When the dreadful misfortune which 
 befel General Moreau by my side, deprived 
 
59 
 
 me of the luminous mind and experience of 
 that great man I cherished the hope that by 
 great care it might be possible to preserve 
 him to his family and my friendship. Provi- 
 dence has ordained otherwise. He Ivis died 
 as he has lived, in the full energy of a strong 
 and constant soul. There is only one reme- 
 dy for the great evils of life; it is that of 
 seeing them shared. In Rosbia, Madam, 
 yon will every where find these sentiments ; 
 and if it be convenient for you to settle there, 
 I will seek out all the means to embellish the 
 existence of a person, of whom I hold it to 
 be my sacred duty to be the comforter and 
 the supporter. I pray you, Madam, to rely 
 on it most confidently ; never to leave me in 
 ignorance of any circumstance in which I 
 can be at all useful to you, and to write to 
 me always direct. To anticipate your wish- 
 es will be always ao enjoyment to me. The 
 friendship I had vow^ed to your husband goes 
 beyond the tomb, and i have no other means 
 of acquitting myself well, at least in part, to- 
 wards him, than in acting so as to ensure, as 
 
60 
 
 I shall ever be disposed to do, the well-being 
 of his family. 
 
 *' Receive, Madam, in the present cruel 
 and distressing circumstances, these testimo- 
 nials, with the assurance of my best senti- 
 ments. *' Alexander." 
 
 ''^ Toiditx^Jke 6i/i Sept. IStS.'' 
 
 ■The Emperor the more deeply felt the loss 
 he had just sustained, since he regarded Mo- 
 reau as the intermedial between the Allies 
 and the French nation. Ah ! who, more than 
 he was capable of proving to the French, 
 whom he loved so much, and to w^horn he 
 was himself so dear, that it was not to reduce 
 them to subjection, but to deliver them, that 
 the Allies have taken up arms. 
 
 Events had succeeded each other in such 
 rapidity, that the General had not had time 
 to publish a proclamation which he address- 
 ed to the French nation, and which his Ma- 
 jesty approved. It bore simply this title ; 
 " General More'iu to fke French,' It was 
 short, plain, and energetic, as was every 
 
61 
 
 thing he wrote. In it he explained the object 
 of his arrival on the continent, v^hich was to 
 aid the French in withdrawing themselves 
 from the dreadful despotism of Bonaparte ; 
 he there announced that he came to sacrifice, 
 if need were, his life, to restore repose and 
 happiness to a country which had never 
 ceased to be dear to him ; he ended by call- 
 ing all the true and faithful sons of France 
 to the standards of independence. This ad- 
 dress entirely contradicts the proclamation^ 
 dated Grosvitch, the 17th of August, which 
 has been attributed to him, and in which he 
 has been made to assume the title of Major 
 General in the service of Russia. To this 
 supposition I w^ould object; 1. That at the 
 date of the 17th of August, General Moreau 
 was at Prague. 2. That he had caused the 
 Emperor Alexander to agree that he should 
 have no title near his person, seeing that, 
 having no other ambition than to restore re- 
 pose to France, his sole wish, after arriving 
 at the accomplishment of this great end, was 
 quietly to terminate his days there in the 
 6 
 
62 
 
 bosom of his family. His Majesty then said to 
 him, *' Well ; be then my friend, my coun- 
 sel !" and are not these two titles worth all 
 that a man can be ambitious of obtaining ? 
 
 In the General's papers has been found the 
 commencement of a journal of the operations 
 of which he had been an eye-witness, until 
 the fatal day when he was wounded : this 
 has been sent to her Imperial Highness the 
 Grand Duchess of Oldenburg, for whom he 
 was writing it. 
 
 At length, after the body of General Mo- 
 reau had been embalmed at Prague, a so- 
 lemn service was performed over it, and then 
 it was left exposed at the palace of the Arch- 
 bishopric for two days. The crowd which 
 went thither to see him, expressed their re- 
 grets in the most touching manner. 
 
 On the 6th of September it was deposited 
 in a coffin to be conveyed to St. Petersburg. 
 
 After having seen the last duties paid to 
 him, I thought only on those which the honor 
 of having known him, and the advantage of 
 
63 
 
 having valued him, imposed on me. Happy 
 if in this brief and slight sketch I have not 
 too much fallen short of the great name I 
 have celebrated, and of the great man whom 
 I have tried to make known to the world as 
 I myself knew him ! 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR 
 
 01 
 
 GENERAL MOREAU. 
 
 X V. MoREAu, the son of a dislinguished 
 advocate, v/as born at Morlalx, in 1761. At 
 the time of the revolotion he held the office 
 of Provost of Jurisprudence at Rennes, and 
 possessed very great influence among the 
 students ; he owed it as much to his talents 
 as to an air of frankness, and a most agree- 
 able mien, which at first sight were prepos- 
 sessing. At the epoch when the parliament 
 of Bratagne was in opposition to the court, 
 he ranged himself on the side of the magis- 
 tracy, and w^as called the General of the 
 Parliament. For five months, during which 
 there existed a species of civil war between 
 the partisans of that body and the governor 
 
65 
 
 of the province, Moreau shewed bravery and 
 even skill The Commandant of Rennes, 
 having given orders to arrest him, but to 
 take him alive, he opposed to the searches 
 which w^ere made for him, so much pru- 
 dence and intrepidity, that though he ap- 
 peared every day in the public places, the 
 garrison could never seize him. But when, 
 in its turn, the parliament of Rennes, second- 
 ed by the states of Bretagne, wished to op- 
 pose the measures of the ministry for the 
 convocation of the states general, Moreau 
 changed sides without changing his princi- 
 ples, and he was seen to command the lorces, 
 which at Rennes and Nantes had organized 
 themselves against the. parliamentary party. 
 
 After having presided in January, 1790, 
 over the confederation of the youths of Bre- 
 tagne, at Fontivi, he was appointed com- 
 mandant of the first battalion of volunteers, 
 organized in his department. 
 
 Thenceforward he seriously occupied him- 
 self in the military art ; and, the result of his 
 studies naturally reclaiming him to principles 
 6* ^ 
 
66 
 
 of order and discipline, the effervescen'^e of 
 his first opinions soon made him incline to 
 more moderate views ; and when the consti- 
 tution of 1793 was presented to the suffrages 
 of the armj, he did not dissemble his very 
 great disapprobation of it ; so that his bat- 
 talion was the last to accept it. 
 
 His bravery and his talents soon made him 
 conspicuous, and in 1793 he was appointed 
 Brigadier-General to the army of the North. 
 In April, 1794, having been made General 
 of Division, at the demand of the General in 
 chief, Pichegro, who had very early appre- 
 ciated him, he was priocipally charged with 
 the conduct of the sieges, and successively 
 took Menin,YpreS} Bruges, Ostend, Nieuport, 
 the Isle of Cassandria and Fort L'Ecluse. If: 
 w^as at the moment they were taking posses- 
 sion of this latter fortress, that he was inform- 
 ed the jacobins of Brest had sent his old 
 father to the scaffold, because he had con- 
 sented to take care of the administration of 
 the property of some Frenchmen who were 
 absent. This news affected him so deeply^ 
 
' ^ 67 
 
 that he would have emigrated immediately, 
 if Pichegru had not observed to him that he 
 was not sure he would be well received bj 
 the Austriansj and that from them he had to 
 apprehend a treatment similar to that which 
 La Fayette had been made to undergo, as 
 well as those who accompanied him in his 
 flight. 
 
 During the famous campaign of the winter 
 of 1794, he commanded the right wing of 
 the army of the North, and from that epoch 
 laid the foundation of his jnilitary renown, 
 which, supported by the suffrage of his gen- 
 eral, and the opinion of the whole army, soon 
 gained him the command in chief, when 
 Pichegru went to take that of the Rhine and 
 Moselle. 
 
 Moreau, imitating his illustrious predeces- 
 sor, soon disengaged himself from the shack- 
 les imposed on him by the revolutionary gov- 
 ernment established in Holland by the De- 
 puties of the Convention, and having fixed 
 his plan of operations, political, as well as 
 military, he communicated it to Generals 
 
, '68 
 
 Daendels and Dumonceau, ordering them to 
 signify to the Batavian committee, that they 
 should second it, and in eight days signify 
 to him their obedience to this injunction. 
 
 When Pichegru was forced to quit the 
 ETmy of the Rhine and Moselle, by the bad 
 proceedings of the Directory, who had suf- 
 fered him to want provisions at Bassein, and 
 had never allowed him sufficient forces, Mo- 
 reau was appointed in his stead, and opened 
 the campaign of 1796, which determined the 
 elevated rank he afterwards occupied among 
 the French Generals. After having repulsed 
 General Wurmser, as far as Manheim, he 
 was seen successively to effect the passage of 
 the Rhine near Strasburg ; to attack, on the 
 6th of July, the Archduke Charles at Ras- 
 tadt; and, notwithstanding the great skill 
 displayed by that Prince, to force him to , 
 abandon the course of the Necker. After 
 the battle given on the 11 th of August, near 
 Heydenheim, and which lasted seventeen 
 days, leaving both parties uncertain as to 
 whom the success belonged, General Moreau 
 
69 
 
 seeing the Austrians retiring on the Danubej 
 liastened to move in advance. The Arch- 
 duke Charles, having then filed toward the 
 right to relieve General Wartensleben, who 
 was hard pressed by Jourdain, Moreau bent 
 his efforts toward the pursuit of General 
 Latour. 
 
 Notwithstanding the victory which Mo- 
 reayi gained at Friedberg, near Augsburg, on 
 the 24th August, and his feinl of a inarch 
 on the Danube, as if he had meant to go and 
 relieve Jourdain, he found himself obliged, 
 on account of the reinforcements which the 
 Austrians daily received from the hereditary 
 states, and of the precipitate flight of that 
 General, to effect his own retreat, which took 
 place on the llth September. 
 
 Here commences one of the finest military 
 achievements ever mentioned in history. 
 Moreau, wishing to insure the conveyance 
 of his baggage, at first sought to make him- 
 self master of both Banks of the Danube ; 
 but, on finding the bridge of Neuburg occu- 
 pied by General Nauendorff? he saw himself 
 
7D 
 
 obliged to move along the right bank, and 
 thence lost for the moment a point on 
 which he had relied for his military opera- 
 tions. But with that precision of move- 
 ments, and that wisdom of combination, 
 which have characterized this magnificent 
 retreat, he suddenly repassed the Leek, and 
 obtained some advantages over a corps of 
 observation, which he astonished by his 
 rapid march. The reverses he experienced 
 on his right did not prevent him from beat- 
 ing the Austrians at Biberach, and he would 
 have obtained a decisive advantage over 
 them, if the army of Conde had not held in 
 check for the whole of the day, his right 
 wing, with a bravery, which often in these 
 campaigns, prevented the most disastrous 
 defeats. 
 
 The Archduke Charles had endeavored, 
 by the most skilful manoeuvres, to dispute 
 the passage of the Black Forest ; but, Mp- 
 reau, through the greatest obstacles, at length 
 succeeded in debouching in Brisgau, and in 
 passing the Rhine at Brissac and Huninguen, 
 
71 
 
 preserving on the right bank a tete-de-pont be- 
 fore the latter town and the fort of Kehl. Ihe 
 Archduke Charles lost before Kelil a pre- 
 cious portion of time, which he might have 
 better employed in going to relieve the army 
 of Italy. The aiege "vas vigorously kept up, 
 and notwithstanding a very brisk sortie, 
 headed by Moreao in person, and in which 
 he carried several works of the opposing ar- 
 my, this fortress surrendered on the 81st; 
 December The tete -de-pont of Huningueo, 
 defended with an obstinacy quite unexam- 
 pled, fell by capitulation into the hands of 
 the Austrians, on the 4th of February, 1797. 
 It was at this epoch that Moreau, setting 
 himself above all sentiments of rivalry, which 
 but too often exist among Generals, vi^ho, at 
 distant points, command separate armies, on 
 learning that Bonaparte was extremely hard 
 pressed by the Austrian forces in Italy, de- 
 termined to detach from the troops under his 
 command, a corps sufficient to reinforce him, 
 Theibl lowing is what Carnot says of it in 
 the work which he published in 1799, in his 
 
7.2 
 
 own justification as Director. of the French 
 Republic. 
 
 «' Though Bonaparte had his flanks and 
 his rear free, he had not forces enough to 
 warrant him in expecting decisive successes 
 against the Emperor. He demanded fifteen 
 thousand men ; I formed a project for giving 
 him thirty * * * * These thirty thousand 
 men were to be drawn from the army of the 
 Rhine and Moselle primarily ; then the half 
 to be replaced by the army of the Sambre and 
 Meuse. Never was an order more punctually, 
 more faithfully, more loyally executed, Mo- 
 reau, who foresaw the necessity of this dispo- 
 sition, had held for a long time a corps in re- 
 serve for this very purpose ; and though his 
 army was most unfortunate, because it could 
 not, like the others, subsist at the expense of 
 the enemy, and though the penury of our fi- 
 nances was an hindrance to the supply of its 
 necessities, he had made further sacrifices, in 
 order that this corps should be passably well 
 equipped, and ready to set out at the first 
 signal. This signal is given ; the troops are 
 
75 
 
 mi their march ; they arrive on the frontiers 
 of Mont Blanc, before the enemy can sur- 
 mise that their destination is for Italy." 
 
 We cannot here withhold ourselves from 
 citing what Carnot said on the disinterested 
 conduct of Moreau on this occasion. The 
 enthusiasm of that ex-Director cannot here 
 be attributed to his republican opinions, but 
 to the admiration excited in him by an act 
 worthy of the most illustrious days of ancient 
 times : We think that the manner in which 
 he has expressed it is an historical homage 
 which all parties will applaud. 
 
 " O Moreau," said he, « O my dear Fa- 
 bius ! how great wert thou in this circum- 
 stance; How superior wert thou to those 
 little rivalries among generals, which some- 
 times make the best projects fail ! Let some 
 accuse thee for not having denounced Pich^ 
 €gru ; let others accuse thee for having done 
 so ; I care not. But my heart tells me that 
 Moreau could not be culpable; my heart 
 proclaims thee a hero. Posterity, more just 
 7 
 
74 
 
 tliaii tby contemporaries, shall raise altarsr to 
 thee." 
 
 Here then behold Moreau, forgetting both 
 his own perilous situation, and the sentiment 
 of his own glory, and contributing to the 
 success of Bonaparte, who has since sought 
 to deliver him over to the axe of the execu- 
 tioner, and subsequently doomed him to the 
 torments of exile, when it was proved to 
 him that he could not sacrifice him with im- 
 punity. 
 
 Moreau, wishing to assume the offensive? 
 meditated the passage of the Rhine, but be- 
 ing in want of money to construct the neces- 
 sary bridges, he went to Paris, in the hope 
 of obtaining from the Treasury wherewith 
 to complete this operation. " I induced 
 liim," says Carnot, " to set out again imme- 
 diately, and to risk a coup de main, even 
 though he should not be quite ready. Mo- 
 reau had no need of that ; never was there 
 a General more devoted, more modest. He 
 sets out : and the passage of the Rhine is 
 executed; he astonishes the enemy only: 
 
7a 
 
 in France we were dazzled and overheated 
 with victories. I did not expect such prompf: 
 success/' 
 
 In fact Moreau had effected the passage 
 of the Rhine in open day-light, and by main 
 force against an enemy ranked in order of 
 battle on the other bank, and on the very 
 day when the preliminaries of Leoben were 
 signed by Bonaparte. The sequel of this 
 brilliant operation was the immediate retak- 
 ing of the fort of Kehlj several pieces of 
 colours, the military chest, and nearly 4000 
 prisoners, fell into the hands of the French. 
 
 There had been seized at the commence- 
 ment of the campaign, in the baggage- 
 w^ aggon of the Austrian General Klinglin, a 
 correspondence which proved the under- 
 standing that subsisted between Pichep:ru, 
 the Prince of Conde, and the English minis- 
 ter, Wickham. This correspondence, which 
 was in cipher, had been very slowly made 
 out, and Moreau shewed the greatest; repug- 
 nance at communicating it to the Din ctory. 
 At lengtji seeing the strii'e between that 
 
76 
 
 body and the councils settled, and guessing 
 what would be the issue of it, the General 
 felt that he would lose himself by his silence, 
 without saving Pichegru, and being particu- 
 larly pressed by his chef d*etat Major, who 
 announced to him that if he persisted in his 
 silence, he should be obliged to reveal every 
 thing, he wrote that letter with which he has 
 never been reproached, unless because the 
 imperious necessity to which he had yielded? 
 was unknown. He did not write it to the 
 Directors collectively, but made a kind of 
 confidential communication of it, abandoned 
 to the discretion Qf Barthelemy,_whom he was 
 far from expecting to see proscribed along 
 with Pichegru.' The latter, after his return 
 from Cayenne, never shewed any sort of re- 
 sentment at it ; very far from participating 
 in the prejudices of the multitude in this res- 
 pect, he was heard to declare several times, 
 that it was from Moreau himself that he 
 wished to know the circumstances which had 
 forced him to this proceeding, and until- 
 
77 
 
 then he would suspend his judgment on the 
 conduct of a former companion in arms. 
 
 The Directors were not mistaken as to this 
 tardy declaration of Moreau, and they very 
 soon placed him under the necessity of ask- 
 ing leave to retire. Yet the want which was 
 felt for his talents soon re-established him in 
 the army, without however putting a stop to 
 his disgrace; and in September, 1798, after 
 being named Inspector General, he was call- 
 ed to preside over a Military Board, charged 
 by the Directory to prepare plans of cam- 
 paigns. It does not appear that this state of 
 inaction suited his character ; for, on the very 
 opening of the campaign in Italy, he was 
 i^een to repair, as a volunteer, to the army of 
 Scherer, where he was an eye-witness to the 
 defeats experienced by that General near 
 Verona. AD length the latter, no longer 
 knowing how either to command or fight, 
 referred to Moreau the care of saving the 
 army, which he executed by the most skilful 
 manoeuvres in the presence of forces much 
 superior to iiis own. He had just been no- 
 7* 
 
78 
 
 minated Commander in Chief of the army 
 of the Rhine, ■ when Joubert came to take 
 that of the army of Ifaly. This young Gen- 
 eral, on the point of giving battle, wished to 
 defer the direction of it to Moreau, who re- 
 fused it, and only asked to fight under his 
 orders. In fact, he fought in person at the 
 battle of Novi, where Joubert was killed, 
 and he himself incurred the greatest dangers, 
 having had three horses" killed under him, 
 and received a ball in his clothes, which 
 grazed his shoulder. He then operated his 
 retreat with so much superiority, that he al- 
 most nullified to the allies the fruit of their 
 victory. 
 
 It w^as after this last manc^uvre that he 
 €juitted the army of Italy, and terminated a 
 campaign, in which he displayed, according 
 to the avowal of all military men, a genius 
 which placed him on a level with the great- 
 est captuins. It is impossible not to admire 
 the art with which, at the head of the re- 
 mains of a conquered army, he disputed 
 some leagues of territory which Europe be- 
 
79 
 
 iieved were never to cost more than a few 
 marches to the victorious armies of the allies? 
 especiall\^ when we reflect that he was con- 
 tending against the great Suvarow. 
 
 Before going to take command of the ar- 
 my of the Rhine, Moreau went to Paris; he 
 arrived there at the moment when the exist- 
 ence of the Directory was tottering under 
 the weight of its own faults, under that also 
 of the hatred of France, and the contempt 
 of all parties. The men who in their coun» 
 cils had formed the project of overthrowing 
 him, believed that there was only one milita- 
 ry man of great reputation v^ho could restore 
 consideration and respect to the Government 
 of France, and eclat to her arms ; they in 
 consequence proposed to General Moreau to 
 take charge of the destinies of a country, il- 
 lustrious by his exploits^ and of late solely 
 preserved from invasion by his firmness, his 
 presence of mind, and his talents. Moreau, 
 not believing himself in a condition to directj 
 amidst the contest of the reanimated parties? 
 the affairs of his country, refused. This fatal 
 
80 
 
 distrust of himself, which he has since bitter- 
 ly regretted, has put off for many years the 
 repose of France. ,^ 
 
 Bonaparte, who arrived during these trans- 
 actions, did not oppose the same scruples to 
 the same proposals, and Moreau, ever mo- 
 dest, ever ready to sacrifice his pretensions to 
 what he thought was to operate for the good 
 of his country, consented to serve under the 
 orders of Bonaparte, and to aid him with his 
 influence and his means in the revolution 
 which was preparing. Some days after the 
 18th Brumaire, he saw that he had been mis- 
 taken, and feared that he had concurred in 
 giving a tyrant to his country. Being soon 
 appointed to the command of the army of the 
 Danube and of the Rhine, he went to put 
 the seal on his great military reputation by a 
 new campaign. Those who have observed 
 him in the different affairs by which it open- 
 ed, say that he then carried his contempt of 
 life too far, and on seeing him expose him- 
 self with the temerity of a soldier, his com- 
 rades thought he was seeking to terminate in 
 
81 
 
 battle a life, thenceforth poisoned by a pre- 
 sentiment of the eYils which Bonaparte was 
 preparing for France, At the battle of Moes- 
 kirch he exposed his person like a grenadier, 
 had four horses killed under him, and re= 
 ceived a spent ball in his chest. A very re- 
 markable circumstance in this campaign, it 
 is, that at the moment when Moreau was en» 
 tering Biberach, Pichegru, then a proscribed 
 man, and a refugee in Gerniany, was fleeing 
 from this town when the rapid march of his 
 early friend had failed in overtaking him. 
 Strange vicissitude of a revolution, which 
 thus presented a General fleeing before his 
 pupil in the art of war, and Pichegru afraid 
 to fall into the hands of French soldiers 1 
 
 Under a regular government, Pichegru 
 would have confided in his friend : but, un- 
 der the influence of the Directorial Oligarchy, 
 he would not, in delivering himself into Mo- 
 re^au's hands, have occasioned any thing but 
 the proscription of them both ; this was 
 what hindered him from making an appeal to 
 a soul, whose candor and loyalty were well 
 known to him. 
 
82 
 
 At length, after an uninterrupted series of 
 victories, Moreau gained the memorable bat- 
 tle of Hohenlinden, which terminated the 
 campaign, and forced the Austrian cabinet 
 to enter into a negociation for peace. The 
 General returned to Paris, where he receiv- 
 ed the testimonies of the public admira- 
 tion. Bonaparte, in spite of the secret jeal- 
 ously which was devouring his heart, 
 could not avoid appearing to unite his suf- 
 frage to that of all France, and said to Mo- 
 reau, on placing in his hands a pair of mag- 
 nificent pistols, " that he had wished to have 
 had engraven on them all his victories, but 
 there could not be found room enough for 
 them." This forced, trivial, incomjjlete eu- 
 logy, proves how far from sincere .was the 
 admiration of a rising despot toward a Gene- 
 ral Wii hi.dr in his eyes, the wrong of hav- 
 ing a«.'quired more glory than hLmself, and 
 loved the country which he was meditating 
 to ruin and enslave. 
 
 From that moment, Moreau thought solely 
 of living in retirement ; and having united 
 
S3 
 
 his lot to a young person* in whom were 
 combined all the qualities of the mind with 
 all the graces of beauty, brilliant talents and 
 solid virtues, he settled on the estate of Gros- 
 bois which he had bought of Barras. 
 
 It was there that in the sweets of conjugal 
 union, and in the midst of the foreigners, 
 who arrived in crowds to testify to him their 
 admiration, he endeavoured, not indeed to 
 withdraw himself entirely, but to render less 
 importunate the sinister forebodings which 
 announced servitude and misery to France. 
 He almost entirely gave up going to Paris, 
 and entirely ceased visiting Bonaparte, blam« 
 ing, with a frankness more laudable than 
 prudent, all the acts hy which that man was 
 forming a prelude of tyranny. All Paris 
 then seized with avidity, some traits which 
 had escaped him against the latter. 
 
 A rather remarkable incident which hap- 
 pened in the beginning of 1 802, must have 
 Indicated to Moreau that he was watched by 
 spies, and that the hatred of his ferociouf 
 
 * Mademoiselle Hsfllot. 
 
84 
 
 rival had been feeding on all that had escap- 
 ed hira, and on his patriotic discontent. A 
 certain Abbe David, known by a book pub- 
 lished on the Operations of the Campaign 
 in Holland, had conceived the idea of ap- 
 proximating Pichegru and Moreau, foresee- 
 ing that the union of those two great men 
 might one day be useful to France. He found 
 from the very first overture, that Moreau was 
 delighted with the idea of placing himself in 
 communication with his friend, his former 
 brother in arms, and set out for London with 
 a letter which expressed to Pichegru, that 
 wish of a noble soul and a feeling heart. 
 But the police followed the traces of the Ab- 
 be David as far as Calais, and arrested him 
 just as he was about to embark. He was 
 taken to Paris, detained at the Police Ad- 
 ministration Office, whither Bonaparte secret- 
 ly repaired at each examination, to listen to 
 the details of it, hid behind a screen, either 
 because he feared his ow^n agents would not 
 render him an account of it faithfully, or 
 because, in his impatience to find pretexts 
 
B5 
 
 for the perdition of Moreau, he could not 
 wait for their report. The Abbe David went 
 to expiate at the temple, the wrong of hav- 
 ing wished to re-establish between two great 
 men, that confidence and friendship which 
 had once intimately united them. 
 
 Pichegru, sure of what were the sent!- 
 riients of his early friend, had directed Gen- 
 eral Lajolais to him in 180S, in order to be- 
 come acquainted with the projects which 
 occupied him ; but Moreau having but little 
 eSteiem for the latter, had confined himself to 
 assurances of the entire interest he took in 
 th^ fate of his friend, and of the desire which 
 he had of soon seeing him again in France. 
 Lajoiais fancied he could interpret this avowal 
 as an invitation given to Pichegru to repair 
 thither, in order to concur in the overthrow 
 of the government of Bonaparte; and he 
 catne to London to bring the positive assu- 
 r^incie, that Moreau w^as ready to connect 
 himself with any kind of project which 
 should have that for its object ; and that 
 he ardently desired the presence of Pi- 
 8 
 
86 
 
 chegm at Paris. He took good care not to 
 say, that Moreau had testified to him so little 
 confidence, that he refused to lend him fifty 
 louis d'or for his journey. 
 
 For several months General Georges was 
 in Paris, to prepare the means of carrying off 
 Bonaparte by main force, in one of his rides 
 from Paris to St. Cloud. The plan he had 
 concerted with Pichegru was just at its ma- 
 turity ; and from day to day, advices were 
 expected which were to determine the de- 
 parture of the latter with two Princes of the 
 house of Boutbon. But what Lajolais an- 
 nounced of the intentions of General Mo- 
 reau, appeared too important not to encour- 
 age an attempt to profit by them immediate- 
 ly ; and it was decided that, as this general 
 earnestly desired the presence of Pichegris in 
 Paris, the latter should set out directly to 
 concert with him. Moreau in fact testified 
 to his early friend how happy ha was to see 
 him, but he was far from guessing the pro- 
 ject which brought him, and still more so, 
 Chat every thing was ready to realize it. 
 
 Without disputing the necessity of the re- 
 
87 
 
 establishment of the Bourbon family, Moreau 
 still wished to prepare for it by gradations? 
 %vhich should bring over his own party, in 
 which he counted several republicans, to ap- 
 prove and second it. Pichegru, who had 
 concerted every thing with Georges, and 
 who felt that any slowness of proceeding 
 might occasion the loss of the latter, and of 
 the people whom he had collected for the au^ 
 dacious enterprize in contemplation, wished 
 that Moreau should declare himself immed» 
 lately, and unconditionally bind himself to 
 the cause, of w^hich he secretly desired the 
 success. At length Moreau, sacrifising big 
 scruples to the security of his friend, and to 
 his w^arm entreaties, had agreed that those 
 who had prepared the plan should execute it ; 
 and that in case of success, he should place 
 himself in advance with his party^ to protect 
 them against the measures which the parti- 
 zans of Bonaparte might take at the first 
 1 - >ment to avenge him. He decided too 
 palice, enlightened by what Gue- 
 i.,^ ,-7--.;erL IcBsw of the presence of Pi- 
 cnegvu and Georges at Fans, and of their 
 
B,8 
 
 connexion with Moreau ; the latter w^s first 
 arrested. 
 
 All Europe knows the details of this dis- 
 astrous affair; but what are less known, are 
 the persecutions in detail which Bonaparte 
 employed to wound Moreau in the dearest 
 affeciions, and the marks of respect and at- 
 tachment which the latter received from all 
 the military men during the proceedings. 
 
 The order had been given by the agentii 
 of Bonaparte, not to let Madame Moreau 
 communicate with her consort, until after 
 having made him experience all the vexa- 
 tions of a restless inspection, and suspense 
 Ihe most painful. When this interesting wo- 
 man presented herself at the Temple with her 
 young infant, they forced her to wait in the 
 open air, in the midst of a cold and rainy 
 season until the moment when it was con- 
 veijient for the jailor to open the gates. 
 Sometimes she passed whole hours expose^ 
 to the inclemency of the weather, unless 
 when she owed to the pity of the sentinels, 
 the permission of seeding shelter under 
 a shed. This sad epoch did not, how- 
 
89 
 
 .ever, glide away without affording to the 
 General some enjoyments, which, in part, 
 compensated the sufferings thus iniiicted on 
 his heart. Although Moreau was a prisoner, 
 and although they took him before judges, 
 who, it was believed, were devoted to the 
 tyranny which was to crush him ; he receiv- 
 ed military honours every time he passed be- 
 fore the soldiers charged with guarding the 
 outside of that tribunal ; and he had the plea- 
 sure of seeing a crowd of Generals, who as« 
 sisted at the debates, put their hands on their 
 sabres, and say to him, every time he was 
 within hearing, " Comrade, fear nothing, we 
 have sworn on our swords to defend thy 
 life." Bonaparte thirsted for the blood of 
 Moreau, but the public opinion disputed 
 against him this illustrious victim ; and he 
 confined himself to banishing him. The de- 
 tails which precede this memoir, have suffi- 
 ciently instructed the reader concerning the 
 last and fatal episode of the life of this gi'eat 
 man. ' 
 
 We cannot terminate this notice better 
 8* 
 
90 
 
 than by publishing on the brilliant career 
 which the General had made in the eyes of 
 Europe, some reflectiolis which have been in- 
 spired by a deeply-felt admiration of the tal- 
 ents and virtues of that great man. 
 
 " It was on the approach of those frightful 
 misfortunes, which were directly menacing 
 France, that there appeared, all at once, in 
 the ranks of the allies, enemies of Bonaparte 
 and not of the French, a General who had 
 been for eight years exiled from the country 
 which he had served with as much glory as 
 .fidelity. 
 
 '' A victim of jealousy, which his eminent 
 services had excited in a heart hostile to all 
 the glories which have preceded that to 
 Yv'hich it aspires, and of the virtues which it 
 has never possessed; this great man had even 
 suffered himself to be forgotten as long as he 
 saw some security for France in the triumphs 
 of her actual chief; but after the horrible ca- 
 tastrophe of Russia, v^hat should this distin- 
 guished Patriot, this General do, who, in 
 other times, sacrificed his self-love and his 
 resentments, in order to save a French army ? 
 
91 
 
 Was he to content himself with mourning in 
 silence over the misfortunes of his country, 
 and over the deplorable end of so many 
 brave men ? Was he to see tranquilly to 
 fall into shreds, that fair France, the object 
 of his v^ishes and his regrets ? And was he 
 to shut himself out forever from the prospect 
 of one day seeing her again, under the in- 
 fluence of a reparative and tutelary govern^ 
 ment ? No ! his inaction, in so menacing a 
 crisis, would have been treason, and he has 
 never shewn himself greater, than when, 
 braving the prejudices of weak minds, the 
 calumnies of his persecutor, and the decla- 
 mations of the French Journalists, he came 
 to offer on the one hand, to the allied pow- 
 ers his co-operation against the tyrant of 
 France, and on the other hand, to the French 
 a guorantee that it is not on them but on the 
 ambition of their chief, that the Sovereigns 
 of Europe are making war. 
 
 " The love which the great man had al- 
 ways borne towards his country, that ambi- 
 tion which he had constantly she v/n to serve 
 it and not to subjugate it ; his conduct? 
 
equally wise and heroic, in the midst of the 
 disgraces he had endured, the one under the 
 Directory, the other under Bonaparte, all 
 served to prove that he was directed by the 
 noblest and purest of motives in the briilant 
 proceedings which has honored the end of 
 bis life. He sought not rank or riches ; he 
 was not willing to dispute with the despot 
 his authority in order to become a despot in 
 his turn; the entire whole of his life proves, 
 that his tastes were simple, his desires mode- 
 rate ; and his modesty always refused the 
 rank, which opinion assigned him among 
 great men and great captains. He could 
 have placed himself at tlje head of the Gov- 
 ernment of his country, but he feared the 
 seductions of pov/er, the immense responsibi- 
 lity of the supreme rank. He consulted his 
 heart ; he felt not in it the courage to be se- 
 vere : he consulted his strength ; he felt him- 
 self not in condition to govern France. Bona- 
 parte had not the same scruples, and his petu- 
 lant ambition blindly seized on apart, in which 
 it perceived only an unbounded authority to 
 exercise, and immense riches to acquire." 
 
FUNERAL ORATION 
 
 ©N « 
 
FUNERAL ORATION 
 
 PRONOUNCED 
 
 AT ST. PETERSBURG, 
 
 IN HONOR OF 
 
 MOBEAU. 
 
 MY A rRIEJiTD OE GENERAL MOREAW, 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM THE FREIJCK. 
 
 BOSTON : 
 
 PRINTED BY ROWE AND HOOPER. 
 
 1814, 
 
I 
 
FM,EFACE OF THE EDITOK, 
 
 1 HAVE just received the Funeral Oration 
 pronounced in honor of that great man whose 
 loss I so feelingly deplore. A desire to pub- 
 lish without delay this outline of a life, around 
 which all earthly glories hwve^ indeed^ shed a 
 lustre ; to unveil as it were, an heroic action, 
 concerning which no person should have been 
 deceived, (for ought it ever to have been sup- 
 posed, that General Moreau could entertain 
 the thought of delivering up his country to 
 its foes ?) induces me to write this hasty pre- 
 face, which, however, will not, I trust, im- 
 perfect as it is, be without interest in the 
 sight of any virtuous Frenchman, or any 
 friend of man. 
 
 At another time I might, perhaps, have 
 ventured to attempt the portrait of an illus- 
 trious man, who honored me with his confi- 
 dence and friendship, who condescended to 
 9 
 
98 
 
 make me not only the depository of his noble 
 designs, his generous sentiments and views, 
 but the channel through which they were 
 communicated to my king ; — under presenS 
 circumstances, however, I have scarcely time 
 for the most imperfect sketch — I am on the 
 eve of a long voyage, and have not a mind 
 sufficiently composed to undertake ^ task 
 that would justly engage my undivided at- 
 tention. My whole soul is at this time ab- 
 sorbed by the great events that now agitate 
 my country ; I see France at length restored 
 to freedom, guilt humbled in the dust ; my 
 lawful king again seated upon the throne of 
 his ancestors ; my countrymen happy, unit- 
 ed, after so long a period of misery and dis- 
 sention ; and the thoughts that crowd upon 
 me excite in me, I confess, that agitation, 
 that fever of the soul, which all my compa- 
 triots, who sincerely wish the happiness and 
 glory of their country, must experience upon 
 so awful an occasion. 
 
 Frenchmen, General Moreau has not only 
 sacrificed his life for you, but to save you, 
 
has consented to expose himself to the at- 
 tacks of cahimny and injustice. 
 
 Frenchmen, listen to those words of that 
 great man, and reflect. — «» We should do 
 nothing for the multitude, but every thing 
 for our country and posterity ; there are 
 cases in which our conscience should be our 
 only guide; if I remain a mere spectator 
 during the great crisis that now convulses 
 Europe, with what face shall I present my- 
 self to save our wretched France, when the 
 torrent is ready to burst upon and over- 
 whelm her ?" 
 
 «« And that event," said he, (and it is now 
 more than eighteen months since) " that 
 event will happen. The tyrant will finally 
 have sacrificed to his base and cruel ambi- 
 tion the bravest of our countrymen ; he will 
 have none remaining to defend France, but 
 boys, or men weary of the yoke that oppres- 
 ses them. The ardour, the enfhusia$7n are on 
 the other side. I will go then, and join the 
 defenders of mankind, and if I can aid them 
 In saving Germany, they will assist me af- 
 
iOQ 
 
 terwards, to deliver France," — *« Yes," said 
 he, *'I will rally about me the virtuous French 
 my brave companions in arms ; they will be» 
 lieve me when I declare to them, I served 
 with fidelity the republican government, and 
 so long as it subsisted, neither abandoned nor 
 betrayed it; but since monarchy alone is 
 suited to France, I will loyally contend for 
 the only monarchy that an honest man can 
 wish for or defend. 
 
 "Tell his Majesty Louis the XVIIIth," 
 said he to me one day, with a smile, " that 
 you know a good republican, who will hence- 
 forth serve his cause more faithfully than 
 many of those, who styled themselves roy- 
 alists in former times." And on another oc- 
 casion, he answered me with the frankness 
 that distinguished him. — * Yes, the cause of 
 the lawful sovereign is now the only national 
 cause, the king of France may, therefore^ 
 count with certainty upon me. I have no 
 personal ambition ; I wish for nothing but 
 the happiness of France, and the glory of my 
 former companions in arms, from whom I 
 
101 
 
 will never separate my fortunes, and who, 
 I do not doubt, will hasten to unite with me 
 in dethroning the usurper." 
 
 Frenchmen, the generous devotion of Gen- 
 eral Moreau, his noble sentiments, were long 
 since known to the august monarch who is 
 about to put a period to your calamities. — 
 O you, who, too distant from your country, 
 cannot share in its deliverance, let the voice 
 of your indignation, at least, be heard be- 
 yond the seas ; but call down on the ty- 
 rant only the wrath of heaven ; let there be 
 an end of all animosity — no more resentment 
 of injuries ; our gracious king and father has 
 enjoined us to forget all errors, all wrongs, 
 all trials that are past. 
 
 Frenchmen of all parties, let us be at length 
 united ; we have been all of us, yes all, in a 
 greater or less degree, transported by the de- 
 lirium : who, then, will have a right to be 
 severe ? Who among us has not been driven 
 by the tempest, somewhat beyond the bounds 
 of prudence and of reason ? 
 
 Frenchmen, once again, No tyrant^ hut 
 9* 
 
102 
 
 no thought of vengeance either^— the indul- 
 gent kindness of the sons of Henry IVth 
 dictates most forcibly our duty. 
 
 O my countrymen, I am without impor- 
 tance in the world, but have, perhaps, ac- 
 quired a right to speak to you of harmony 
 and union. I am (I may with truth assert) 
 one of the veterans of the persecuted cause. 
 For twenty years have I lived in the midst of 
 storms. I count six years proscription, eight 
 years of exile, but on these grounds make 
 neither complaint nor boast. For fortune, 
 after all, has not had it in her power to pre- 
 vent my being happy. But I wish, at least, 
 that my example may be of use to those who 
 shall feel disposed to revive the memory of 
 their trials, but who should bear in mind thai; 
 complaint makes grief lose all its dignity ; 
 and that no one has a right to hate, when 
 Louis XVIth even from his scaffold, pardon* 
 ed all his enemies. 
 
 Frenchmen, your King, our august mon- 
 arch, will soon confirm to you what I have 
 now said — Soon will you 3bed tears in Paris^ 
 
103 
 
 over the tomb of the great man, the mart/f 
 to his country. 
 
 Frenchmen among whom I have lived in 
 this happy and hospitable land, you will not 
 consider mine the voice of flattery j for seven 
 years I have not ceased to tell you of the 
 virtues of our princes — their good deeds will 
 soon convince you that my language has been 
 that of truth. 
 
 And you my young compatriots, born 
 since the revolution, you who may have been 
 so easily seduced by the false lustre of bril- 
 liant errors, by the illusion that has too long 
 surrounded the tyrant's throne, return to just- 
 er sentiments, to such as formerly ensured 
 the tranquillity and happiness of your sires, 
 and if the contest is to last, hasten from every 
 quarter of the earth, to wage war on despot- 
 ism, and ensure the triumph of the common 
 cause of mankind.* Imitate, my young 
 
 * I was to have left this country, together with Gen^ 
 eral Moreau, but political eoiisiderations of the high- 
 est importance induced us to thiak at the moment of 
 
 his departure, that it would be more expedient to de- 
 
104 
 
 Aieiids, the example of the great captain, 
 
 whom I now call to your remembrance ; in 
 
 future, take up arms in no other cause but 
 
 that of honour, of your country, and your 
 
 king. 
 
 G. H. NEUVILLE. 
 
 lay mine for some months. Since then, the news of 
 the armistice, the death of that great man, and other 
 events not within my control, have detained me on 
 these shores. 1 have rendered an account to my sove- 
 reign, who has deigned to approve my conduct. At 
 gome future time I shall give other details, but at pre- 
 sent add this note merely by way of answering those, 
 who may possibly ask, why my own departure has been 
 deferred till now. 
 
FUNERAL OEATION 
 
 ON 
 
 MOEEAU. 
 
 1 HE first effect of any great catastrophe is 
 to diffuse around a secret awe, a speechless 
 amazement, that deadens all the faculties, 
 that overwhelms the firmest and most vigo- 
 rous minds. To this recoil of the heart, this 
 deep dismay, this consternation, presently 
 succeeds a more manly and considerate grief. 
 Man then uplifts his eyes towards heaven, 
 and seeks to discover there some of those 
 signs that manifest its will ; he endeavours 
 to connect again that chain of events which 
 the thunder has just rent ; he would fain ex- 
 plore the depths of that power before which 
 he sinks, of that wisdom which confounds 
 
106 
 
 him, and if, dissolved in tears, he appeals to 
 the throne of eternal justice, it is to seek an 
 explanation of these barren tears, these with- 
 ered hopes, this ephemeral existence, even, 
 from whose burthen he would be relieved- 
 
 But when on the wings of meditation he 
 is raised above this world of grief and sor- 
 row, when he contemplares in all its beauty 
 the moral government and order of creation, 
 he is struck with admiration at recognizing 
 in the strangest combinations of events, one 
 hand by which they are all directed, that 
 hand which traced the writing on the wall, 
 and in which are balanced the destinies of 
 nations and of kings. — His mind then gra- 
 dually recovers its composure, he accustoms 
 himself to consider without shuddering, the 
 tragical events that overpowered him before ; 
 his tears have lost their bitterness, and his 
 regrets are full of resignation. — A friendly 
 ray directs him, the darkness is dispelled, 
 and he reads in heaven the consummation of 
 events begun on earth. 
 
 It is not to renew a fruitless sorrow, that I 
 
107 
 
 come to render homage to the memory of the 
 celebrated chief, who singly bore the weight 
 of so many hopes. — Nothing has been want- 
 ing to his life ; his glor}^ has been pure jind 
 perfect ; 1 wish, however, to unfold to view 
 those hidden and terrible relations between 
 the misfortunes of a people and its crimes, 
 between the pride and the insignificance of 
 human wisdom ; I wish to infuse into every 
 heart, those heavenly consolations that lift 
 man above his human nature ; I wish to say 
 to the friends of Moreau, " Weep not, but; 
 " for his murderers and his country." 
 
 Let us leave then to vulgar minds, the 
 words fate, chance, destiny ; those empty 
 sounds that serve as cloaks to poverty of spirit 
 or confusion of ideas. Let us consider with 
 a more steady view this great calamity, and 
 trace higher the wonderful series of a life, 
 around which all earthly glories have, by 
 turns, shed their lustre. 
 
 John Victor Moreau, before entering the 
 career of arms, pursued for a considerable 
 time, the peaceful vocation of the bar ; the 
 
lOS 
 
 troubles of his country roused all at once his 
 dormant genius ; and that memorable period 
 saw MoREAu rapidly elevated to the chief com- 
 mand of the armies of France. It is reserv- 
 ed to France, it is for history, to perpetuate 
 the memory of that profound sagacity, that 
 collected valour of a spirit born for command, 
 that consummate prudence, those unnumb- 
 ered combats, those retreats more to be ad- 
 mired than any victories. 
 
 The friend of humanity will regret, per- 
 haps, that so many great qualities were at 
 first exerted in contributing to the triumph of 
 a cause, from which all the disasters of the 
 world have flowed ; but while he deplores the 
 violence and disorders of that period, when 
 a frantic spirit had seized the minds of men, 
 he will, notwithstanding, pay a just tribute 
 to the virtues of Moreau. What other chief, 
 in fact, introduced into the camp that simpli- 
 city of former times, that so engaging mod- 
 esty, that rare integrity, which, during times 
 of license, shines with so bright a lustre ? Ask 
 of his comrades in arms, inquire of the coun- 
 
109 
 
 fries he traversed as a conqueroi*, and you 
 will hear the voice of admiration and grati- 
 tude ascend on every side. Interrogate that 
 army against which he contended when he 
 fell, that army which was not his country, 
 and it will reply " Moreau was the glory of 
 ** the French arms, the soldier's father, the 
 ** pride and the secret hope of France." 
 
 The profession of arms, which does but 
 too often steel the heart, liad rendered that of 
 Moreau susceptible of every kind and gener- 
 ous emotion Never was he seen to yield to 
 the rash and ungoverned impulses of an am- 
 bition which he himself stiled silly and in- 
 human, Vv ar he regarded only as a destruc- 
 tive scourge ; and the evening after the bat- 
 tle of Hohenlinden was heard to use these 
 remarkable words -, " We have shed blood 
 " enough, letug^think now of making peace." 
 
 The history of the exploits of General 
 Moreau is, 1 repeat it, too intimately connect- 
 ed with that of the military triumphs of 
 France, not to be treated at some future day 
 with the extension it requires, and an admi- 
 10 
 
110 
 
 ration that tyranny will no longer be able to 
 repress. I vTill confine myself at present to 
 a rapid sketch of that first period in the his- 
 tory of MoREAu, a period so well known, 
 and that so well deserves to be. 
 * The Netherlands were the first theatre of 
 bis glory ; it was under his auspices that the 
 French armies entered Menin, Ypres, Ostend 
 and Nieuport. A frantic and barbarous law 
 had decreed the death of all subjects of Great 
 Britain ; Moreau, however, spared the gar- 
 rison of Nieuport, composed of Hanoverians, 
 and this first act of courage and humanity 
 had cost him his life, if the committee of pub- 
 lic safety had not, in the mean time, been sup- 
 planted by another faction. But tyranny sur- 
 vived the tyrants, and on the very day when 
 MoREAu, guided by his own daring spirit and 
 the bravery of his soldiers, thre,w himself into 
 the Isle of Cadsand under the cannon of 
 L'Scluse, his father died upon thescaflfold. 
 
 Moreau, in his despair, would have fled 
 his country. His friends withheld him. Thus, 
 a devoted victim to misfortune, did he con- 
 
ill 
 
 tend in vain against a destiny, every vicisi» 
 tnde of which he wsls doomed to prove. 
 
 In his first campaign upon the Rhine, Mo- 
 REAu effected several passages of that river 
 with the intrepidity of a soldier and the skill 
 of a great commander. From this time for- 
 ward we perceive in all his operations that 
 scientific promptitude, that admirable accura- 
 cy, he had derived from a profound study of 
 his art. From this time forward we see him 
 displaying qualities that seem the most in« 
 compatible— prudent and enterprizing bold- 
 ness, vigour and moderation, thirst for glory, 
 and humanity. Having passed the Rhine, he 
 marched from victory to victory ; but the 
 armies by which he should have been sup- 
 ported were defeated, and Moreau, obliged 
 to depend solely upon his proper strength, 
 found himself pressed on every side by an 
 enemy superior in numbers, and formidable 
 from his valour. Then was it the modern 
 Xenophon effected that celebrated retreat 
 over the Black mountains to the borders of 
 the Rhine. Here did he successively display 
 
112 
 
 every resourse of military genius. Enclos- 
 ed in narrow deiiles, whence no easy exit 
 could be found, he extricated himself with 
 consummate dexterity and courage, victori- 
 ous, and surmounting every obstacle. And 
 thus, by the skilful combinations of its chief, 
 was an army saved that seemed reduced to 
 the necessity of an entire surrender; thus 
 was accomplished that famed retreat which 
 all Europe' regards as classical, and to which 
 the enemies of France still pay the tribute of 
 admiration. 
 
 The battle of Schliengen and the siege of 
 the fortress of Kehl, terminated a campaign 
 which placed Moreau in the first rank of the 
 generals of the age. The second campaign 
 opened with a passage of the Rhine, more 
 daring than any of which history has pre- 
 served the. memory. Moreau w^as about to 
 gather fresh laurels, when the preliminaries 
 signed at Leoben, suspended his victorious 
 career. 
 
 After two so brilliant campaigns, Moreau 
 was recalled by the Directory, and lost to 
 
lis 
 
 his army. The 18th Fructidor had complete 
 ed the disorder of a government remarkable 
 for its weakness and corruption ; and if the 
 severe justice of posterity shall one day feel 
 regret at seeing the name of Moreau con- 
 nected with these times of mourning and 
 confusion, it will not forget that he was borne 
 along by events which his great soul did noe 
 sufficiently distrust, and by a generosity of 
 which his enemies were incapable ; and the 
 only page it will desire to see blotted from 
 his history, casts no stain either upon his 
 glory or his virtue. 
 
 The esteem of all parties had followed Mo- 
 reau into his retirement. But the situation 
 of affairs in Italy soon compelled the Direc- 
 tory to place him once more at the head of 
 armies. The voice of the public marked him 
 out as the only one capable of arresting the 
 triumphant course of the immortal Souworoff, 
 and the Austro-Russian arms. Moreau was 
 invested after Scherer, with the chief com- 
 mand of the army of Italy. But with all his 
 efforts, all his skill, he was unable to resume 
 10* 
 
114 
 
 the offensive, and during the short interval 
 of time between the removal of Scherer and 
 the nomination of Joubert, Moreau executed 
 those scientific retreats which saved a part of 
 the French troops, or to speak more properly, 
 delayed their loss; retreats which Moreau 
 himself preferred to that of the Black Forest 
 as vi^ell on account of the difficulty of his po- 
 sition, as of the disorderly state and despon- 
 dency of his army. 
 
 Souworoff won the battle of Novi, in which 
 Joubert was killed. The general officers, 
 with one consent, yielded the command to 
 Moreau, who had been a mere spectator, and 
 to whom the remains of that army once more 
 owed their preservation. 
 
 France, meantime, saw rapidly approach- 
 ing the total subversion of the existing gov- 
 ernment. 1 he Directory had long stood upon 
 the brink of its ruin. Moreau, high in the 
 affections of every party, exalted in glory, 
 and in virtue, disdained the power that was 
 offered to his acceptance, (1) His refusal 
 caused it to pass into other hands, and the 
 events of the 18th Brumaire took place. 
 
115 
 
 Who can look back upon the occurrences 
 of that period, without some feeling of re- 
 gret ?-~What misfortunes had been spared 
 mankind ; how many tears, how much blood? 
 that would not have flowed, if Moreau had 
 been more ambitious, had accepted the chief 
 magistracy of his country ? Whatever use 
 he might have made of it, he would, no doubt, 
 have granted every thing to the wishes and 
 necessities of France ; and the restoration of 
 peace to the world would have been the first 
 pledge of his intentions, the first exercise of 
 his power. 
 
 MoREAu, though he refused to govern, was 
 ever ready to serve his country. In that 
 admirable discourse pronounced before his 
 judges, and which the French heard without 
 throwing themselves at his feet, he used these 
 remarkable words.—'*! thought myself form- 
 " ed for the command of armies : and had 
 «' no ambition to command the state."* 
 
 * Speecli of Moreau before his jodgegy tlie lOtfe 
 Prairial, year XII. (1804..) 
 
ii6 
 
 Appointed commander in chief of the ar- 
 my of the Rhine, he made two celebrated 
 campaigns, which raised to the highest pitch 
 his mihtary reputation. The first was sig- 
 nalized by a succession of victories, by the 
 passage of the Rhine at Reichlingen, by the 
 passage of the Danube below Ulm, and by 
 an armistice that seemed the precursor of a 
 peace. — This armistice having been broken, 
 the second campaign was opened with the 
 victory of Hohenlinden, and the consequent 
 passage of the Inn. A convention signed at 
 Steyer terminated the exploits of Moreau, 
 and served as a prelude to the treaty of Lu- 
 neville. 
 
 Here ends the recital of A-loreau's cam- 
 paigns. These his warlike achievements be- 
 long to France and when the voice of pas- 
 sion shall be hushed, and a more tranquil day 
 shall shine npon that wretched country, then 
 will its inhabitants join with one accord in 
 tea^-s of regret, and accents of praise around 
 his solitary tomb, then, perhaps, will they 
 claim the insensible remains of a hero who 
 
lit 
 
 might have burst their fetters, and restored 
 to them, together with their ancient glorys 
 their now fading manners their arts and 
 laws which will soon be known to them only 
 from tradition, and by their ruins. 
 
 General Moreau had long and deeply me- 
 ditated his profession. His military taleng 
 was characterized by calmness and delibara- 
 tion, and the same qualities gave the stamp 
 to his whole life. In him were happily com- 
 bined qualifications which nature has gene- 
 rally distributed among several chiefs. Ca- 
 pable alike of profound thought and of sud- 
 den illumination^ he, like Turenne, ad-vanced 
 with unerring method toward the wonders of 
 his life^ and like the hero of Rocroy, seem- 
 ed a man inspired from his first battle.^ 
 
 This uncommon union, this versatility of 
 his military genius seemed derived from the 
 general character of his mind, which was 
 susceptible of every enthusiastic and ardent; 
 impulse; but could regulate them all by 
 
 * Bossuet, 
 
118 
 
 that inexhaustible goodness, and elevation of 
 soul, which marked every action of his life. 
 
 An assiduous study of the art of war had 
 expanded in Moreau the happy germes im- 
 planted in him by nature ; he had perfected 
 that coup d'oeiU which she bestows on great 
 commanders, by extensive research and pro- 
 found reflection, without which a great cap- 
 tain is but a fortunate adventurer. (2) 
 
 Cautious and yet daring, passing from a 
 brilliant enterprise to a skilful retreat, gentle 
 and severe in camp, composed and animated 
 In the field of battle, but at all times perfect 
 master of himself, Moreau left nothing to 
 chance, but calculated the least movements 
 with a sagacity and precision which he may 
 be said to have reduced to rule. Sparing 
 of men and blood, he had a right to assert, 
 ^* War under my direction was a scourge 
 only in the field of battle.* 
 
 The solidity of his judgment caused him 
 to take great pleasure in the study of histo- 
 iy. He formed his opinions of celebrated 
 
 * Speech of Morean. 
 
119 
 
 commanders, according to the rules by 
 which he expected to foe one day judged 
 himself. (3) Early accustomed to the study 
 of mankind, he was inclined to regard pub= 
 lie opinion and the tradition of history as a 
 tribunal almost invariably just, but singular- 
 ly severe toward military reputations.* Far 
 from agreeing in opinion with those who 
 ascribe to the latter years of the eighteenth 
 century the invention of a new system of 
 tactics, he often observed, that since the 
 thirty years* war, the art of war had made 
 constant advances toward perfection.* 
 
 Another quality conspicuous in Moreau, 
 was the facility with which he could ex- 
 change the tumult of the camp for the peace- 
 ful occupations of a private station ; a pecu- 
 liar temper of his mind, that enabled him to 
 pass with perfect equanimity from the com- 
 mand of armies, to the quiet of the civil life, 
 a quiet, which^ as he nobly observed, was 
 not without glory, ^ After the treaty of Lu- 
 neville, he again sought retirement, and was 
 
 * MS, t Speech of Moreau. 
 
120 
 
 only drawn from his refreat by an event the 
 most unexpected, and a seiitence of proscrip- 
 tion which will to all posterity bear witness 
 against France. 
 
 Having now reached that gloomy era in 
 the history of MoRRAu, when betrayed and 
 persecuted, he submitted to the exile of Aris- 
 tidesj as he would have received the bowl of 
 Socrates, I will present, in few words, a slight 
 but faithful sketch of the circumstances at- 
 tending his condemnation. 
 
 MoREAu had been the friend and brother 
 soldier of Piche jru and had succeeded him 
 in the chief command. Previous to the 18th 
 Fructidor, there chanced to fall into his 
 hands certain letters which discovered the 
 existence of a numerous part^, whose object 
 was to effect a counter-revolution in France. 
 Pichegru was implicated in this plot, but no 
 legal proof appeared against him. The gen- 
 erous spirit of MoREAu revolted at the thoughe 
 of becoming the accuser of his ancient chief. 
 A year had now elapsed since the time fixed 
 upon for the execution of this plan, and the 
 
121 
 
 army which Pichegru, it was said, had agreed 
 to deliver up, had won niaoy battles under 
 IvIoKEAu's command. Such w^as the state of 
 things when Moreau, informed of the pub- 
 licity which this affair had gained, on the 
 day succeeding the memorable 18th Fructi- 
 dor, addressed to the director Barthelemy, 
 who was himself proscribed together with 
 Pichegru, a confidential letter, which, in 
 consequence of the previous arrest of that 
 director, was opened by his colleagues, and 
 MoREAu received orders to transmit the pa- 
 pers and to publish in his army a proclama- 
 tion conformable to the course which the 
 affair had taken. (4) 
 
 This transaction, which was not entirely 
 cleared up until the trial of Moreau, at first 
 roused all France against him. He was ac- 
 cused of having denounced his former gene- 
 ral, and of having denounced him in order to 
 shield himself from the vengeance of the 
 government. Moreau replied to these 
 charges only by new victories. But when 
 Pichegru afterwards, in 18G4, returned pri- 
 ll 
 
122 
 
 vately into France, accompanied by Geor- 
 ges, and they were both arrested, the memo- 
 ry of the relations that had formerly subsist- 
 ed between Pichegru and Moreau, was stu- 
 diousl}^ revived. To remove Pichegru out 
 of the way, who was a skilful general, of a 
 vigorous mind, and a temper bold and enter- 
 prising, was an object of importance. It was 
 no less important to be rid of Georges, a man 
 whom great force of mind and body, and 
 wonderful address, fitted for the execution 
 of the vast designs he entertained. But the 
 master-stroke of policy would be to involve 
 MoREAu in their proscription, to lower him 
 in the eyes of the army, of which he was the 
 idol, and to conduct to ignominious death 
 upon a scaffold, the only man capable of 
 giving umbrage to the consular tyranny. It 
 was contrived, with perfidious art, to con- 
 nect the former intimacy between Pichegru 
 and Moreau, with two interviews and with 
 certain conversations the latter was now ac- 
 cused of having held. 
 
 It being declared incompetent to a jury to 
 
123, 
 
 proceeed in this affair, it was laid before a 
 special tribunal, and the name of the con- 
 queror of Hohenlinden was inscribed in the 
 list of robbers and conspirators. 
 
 The violent death of Pichegru caused the 
 whole interest of this spectacle to centre in 
 MoREAu. It was now imputed to him as a 
 crime, that he did not denounce Pichegru, 
 as he was before reproached with having de- 
 nounced him. He was accused of having 
 intended by means of the royalists, to make 
 himself dictator ; the depositions of certain 
 subordinate agents, vague and inadmissible 
 depositions, were triumphantly disproved in 
 the argument of his advocate. The secret 
 pains of government to convert them into 
 heads of accusation could not escape notice ; 
 its hopes, however, were disappointed, and 
 it was obliged to respect Moreau. The 
 speech pronounced by him before his judges, 
 breathes a noble elevation. The enthusiasm 
 which it inspired, the recollections it awoke 
 were such, that a word from Moreau would 
 Jiave sufficed to overturn the government, and 
 
124 
 
 have given a new aspect to the aflairs of Eu« 
 rope ; but uMoreau remained silent, and in 
 calm dignity submitted to the decree which 
 sentenced him to an imprisonment of two 
 years, a sentence which was afterwards 
 changed into one of perpetual banishment ; 
 and MoREAu passing through Spain embark- 
 ed with his family for the United States. 
 
 This narrative may be regarded as strictly 
 accurate, and as the result of the best ground- 
 ed and most moderate opinions. 
 
 MoREAu has been reproached with hasty 
 and inconsiderate denials, made by him in 
 the course of this proceeding, with an unde- 
 cided conduct at its commencement, and too 
 great a respect for an illegal and oppressive 
 prosecution. A letter, addressed by him to 
 the First Consul, is made the ground of ano- 
 ther charge; but a most disingenuous one, 
 for that letter, as contained among the pa- 
 pers on which his defence was grounded, is 
 dignified and calm. 
 
 Lastly, he is reproached with having suf- 
 fered persecution without shewing the least 
 
125 
 
 desire for revenge, without making any effor!; 
 to rouse the army, and place himself at the 
 head of government; but this conduct was, 
 in fact, perfectly conformable to the charac- 
 ter, the principles, and the whole tenor of 
 the life of one, great in the arts of peace and 
 war; but unfit for faction, abhorring civil 
 discord, and so little ambitious of the su- 
 preme power, that without regret, and al- 
 most wirh joy, he had seen it consigned to 
 other hands. 
 
 If we take a more enlarged view of the 
 singular circumstances attending the exile 
 of Moreau, w© may observe, on one side, 
 the ingratitude of man ; forgetful of past 
 benefits, and jealous of another^s glory ; on 
 I he other we may discern the protecting hand 
 of Providence, interposed to save this hero 
 from so njany united dangers, withdrawing 
 him from the theatre of his exploits, and 
 transporting him suddenly to Ihe forests of 
 the new world. We now see this illustrious 
 man lost in obscurity, disappearing from 
 view^ and retired within himself, long re- 
 
1 2a 
 
 Vol vino- the occurrences of his past life ; then 
 prompted by one of those thoughts which hea- 
 1)671 sends^^ emerging from his solitude to a 
 new Fife, re-appearing with extraordinary 
 brightness upon the earthly scene, to shine 
 there but for a moment, and to carry with 
 him fo the tomb the hopes and the regrets 
 of all mankind. Who does not exclaim, at 
 a destiny so mysterious, ^'This is the fmgev 
 of God /'t 
 
 But before I portray in its mournful co- 
 lours this tragical event, let me follow Mo- 
 reau in his retirement; into the recesses, if 
 I may say it, of his soul, as I have hitherto 
 foliow^ed him at the head of victorious ar» 
 mies. Now that the clamours of party spi- 
 rit, and the voice of calumny are loud on 
 every side ; now that Moreau has fallen 
 before he had realized the vast expectations 
 of the world, we must oppose the distinctive 
 traits of his character, his entire life^ to ab- 
 surd and groundless slanders. It is that ad- 
 mirable union, found in him, af public tal- 
 
 * BossuGl. t Exod, c. S, v« 19< 
 
m 
 
 ents Willi private virtues, that should be dis- 
 played to view. It is, in a word, the man 
 himself, that I would paint; and, by a rare 
 bounty of nature, Morcau, proscribed, dis- 
 tant from his native land, stript of his (itles, 
 his military renown, and the celebrity de- 
 rived from his misfortunes, is still an object 
 of interest and admiration, honorable and 
 consolatory to human nature. 
 
 MoREAu, having reached his new abode, 
 in the bosom of a strange land, called to his 
 aid his love of study, the cares and affection 
 q{ his ftimily, and the taste he had always 
 retained for pure and simple pleasures. An 
 liumble retreat upon the banks of the Dela- 
 ware received him as soon as the season 
 would permit, {b) Here he derived pleasure 
 from the cultivation of his garden, and did 
 not disdain the amusements of fishing and 
 the chace — Honored and beloved by his 
 quiet and peaceful neighbors, he seemed to 
 have laid aside his glory. The greater num- 
 ber knev/ of the hero of Hohenlinden only 
 by his domestic virtues, and they paid him a 
 
\n 
 
 tribute of confidence and esteem, that made 
 amends for the injustice of the world and 
 the ingratitude of his country. His residence 
 at his country seat inspired new life into its 
 neighbourhood and gave fresh vigour to the 
 industry of the inhabitants of Morrisville and 
 its environs. While he was engaged in study, 
 or the cultivation of his grounds, Madame 
 Moreau devoted herself to the education of 
 her daughter, in whom the anxious cares of 
 her consort and herself were all centered. A 
 small number of friends shared their retire- 
 ment. Happy and peaceful occupations, 
 soon to be succeeded by the most awful ca- 
 tastrophe, and by eternal grief ! 
 
 These details, valuable as they are, con- 
 vey, I am sensible, but an imperfect idea of 
 the long space of time spent in America by 
 Moreau ; but it were vain to attempt to pe- 
 netrate the shades with which he enveloped 
 his retreat. — What various thout'hts must 
 have assailed him, as the rumour of the dis- 
 asters of Europe expired upon the western 
 ^shores of the Atlaotic ! What profound in-^ 
 
129 
 
 dignatlon swelled his generous spirit, as he 
 saw from a distance the yoke that oppressed 
 his country ! What mental struggles had he 
 not to sustain ! But what a sudden inspira- 
 tion also, what generous courage, what ad- 
 mirable and affecting self-devotion! The 
 news of the invasion of Russia, in 1812, had 
 reached the United States. The letters writ- 
 ten at this period by Moreau, show with what 
 attention he followed the operations of the 
 war, (6) and the severe but correct judgment 
 which he formed of an enterprize, conceived 
 in rashness, conducted in the delirium of 
 improvidence and hatred, and ending in dis- 
 grace. It was at this time Moreau resolved 
 to appear again upon the continent of Europe, 
 and no doubt the astonishing events of this 
 war powerfully inllueoced his determination. 
 He saw that the propitious moment for sav- 
 ing Europe, and destroying a scourge, which 
 he declared was /he mo ■it dreadful euer Jcnown 
 had at length arrived — and who, rather than 
 P^ioreau, might believe himself called to this 
 work of retribiUion ?--Other considerations 
 
130 
 
 also, had a share In his decision. In the si- 
 lence of his retirement Moreau had been 
 taught by much reflection upon the af- 
 fairs of life, that our country is not there, 
 where neither virtue nor honour dwells ; that 
 France, to be preserved, must be subdued ; 
 that he should be for ever answerable to- 
 ward her if he took no part in her delive- 
 rance; (7) that it was now time, in fact, to 
 rise superior to all personal regards, and con- 
 sult the safety of Europe, and the cause of 
 the world at large — a generous sentiment, 
 which makes Moreau the object of the world's 
 regrets, and gives a right to every European 
 people to lament his loss, as though he had 
 been born within its own bosom. 
 
 While Moreau, absorbed in these reflec- 
 tions, obeyed, as he thought, the impulse of 
 his own mind, Providence, having at this 
 very time resolved to take him from the ends 
 of the earth, to call him from the chief men 
 thereof^ smoothed every obstacle before him. 
 JJe quirted his retirement and embarked. — 
 
 * isaialuc. 41. v. 9. 
 
131 
 
 Every thing seemed to conspire to facilitate 
 his voyage. Propitious winds swelled the 
 sails of the vessel that bore this man chosen, 
 mnong many. The waves were silent before 
 the victim charged with his country's crimes, 
 and Moreau, on reaching the shores of Eu- 
 rope, was greeted from afar with transports 
 of joy and adanration, that were soon to be 
 converted into cries of sorrow and despair. 
 
 The arrival of General Moreau on the con- 
 tinent was a triumph. — He appeared in the 
 midst of the allied armies as a superior ge- 
 nius, destined to conciliate the wishes and 
 sanction the designs of Europe. Acclama- 
 tions every where pursued his steps. — Those 
 brave warriors rejoiced to behold among them 
 one of the greatest commanders; and Mo- 
 reau's heart opened to the fairest hopes when 
 he witnessed the force and valour of the 
 troops, the talents of the chiefs, their devo- 
 tion to the cause, and that astonishing enthu- 
 siasm, which, originating in the excess of 
 suffering, had borne the nations to a height, 
 where nothing is impossihle except disgrace. 
 
132 
 
 But it was chiefly when Moreau, possessed 
 of the confidence of the Sovereigns, had been 
 adnntted to the counsels that directed those 
 enoimoiis masses, that he foresaw the suc- 
 cess which must crown the holiest of causes. 
 When he saw on one hand, Europe leagued 
 for the recovery of its freedom, and on the 
 other, France striving to rivet its chains, he 
 no longer doubted of the issue of this great 
 contest. The victorious legions of the North, 
 pursuing with the rapidity of lightning the 
 ruins of an unnumbered host, whose bones 
 yet whiten the vast plains of Russia, these 
 legions, guided by a great chieftain too soon 
 snatched from his country, indebted to him 
 for its deliverance, had revived in Germany 
 an expiring flame, that will now consume 
 her enemies. All free governments had, 
 under the care of a wise and valiant mon- 
 arch, acceded to this grand alliance; and 
 Moreau, in the midst of the confederate ar- 
 mies, saw the most formidable union reign 
 among so many various nations, surprised 
 to find themselves leagued against a single 
 power. 
 
13S 
 
 Moreaii, appearing in the allied ranks 
 with that perfect disinterestedness and in- 
 tegrity which marked his character, might 
 foe regarded as the Man ef Europe, Never 
 did sublimer mocives inspire a nobler reso- 
 lution. (8) 
 
 '« When," said he, " after eight years of 
 " solitude and reflection in a country like 
 '* America I left that country, it was only 
 " with a fixed purpose of contributing to re- 
 " store peace to the world, or of falling in 
 ** the attempt." Determined to accept of 
 no command, he brought in tribute to the 
 common cause, his name and sword. He 
 spoke of his intentions with the frankness 
 and simplicity natural to generous minds. 
 He was animated with the liveliest indigna- 
 tion in speaking of the government of 
 France ; of the oppressive yoke imposed 
 upon his country ; of its sufferings, of the 
 sufferings of the world ; and the well found- 
 ed hope he cherished of replacing France in 
 the station due to her, of restorin^ to her 
 freedom, her manners, and her glory, infused 
 12 
 
134 
 
 an unusual composure into all his delibera- 
 tions. The magnanimous views of Alexan- 
 der confirmed him in his generous hopes. 
 
 The first impressions of the mind are sel- 
 dom effaced in one of a frank and ingenu- 
 ous disposition. Moreau preserved to the 
 hour of his death the illusions of his earlier 
 years, anckpLn invincible attachment to politi- 
 cal opinions, v^hich he himself acknowledge 
 ed, Vv^ere purely speculative. A long resi- 
 dence in the United States had confirmed in 
 him sentiments which he always professed 
 with equal moderation and sincerity. 
 
 Moreau held the same language in the 
 camps of the allies; but time, and above all, 
 the example of France, had taught him that 
 a good man should not allow the dreams in 
 which he may indulge, to influence his po- 
 litical conduct. He was aware that a repub- 
 lican government, whic h requires of man an 
 ideal virtue, is not suited to the present con- 
 dition of I he great European states ; he was 
 cousciousj also, that this form of government 
 had been profaned in the eyes of the greater 
 
135 
 
 part of tnankliid, by the horrors and calami- 
 ties of the French revolution ; but his natural 
 character and the circumstances of his life 
 had conspired to exalt his niind to those 
 purer and more elevated regions, where it 
 dwelt without an effort. He felt himself 
 among the heroes of antiquiry, in the bosom, 
 as it were, of his own family. The study 
 of history brought him continually acquaint- 
 ed with the most virtuous and greatest of 
 mankind. He glowed with ardor at the 
 story of Leuctra or of Marathon ; he would 
 gladly have followed Demosthenes to the 
 tribunal ; would willin >ly have died with 
 Leonidas before Thermopylae. 
 
 But when he descended from these lofty 
 regioH3j and an order of events that consti- 
 tute the perpetual glory of mankind, his 
 calm and sober reason resumed its wonted 
 ascendency. Fully con\^inced of the neces- 
 sity of a monarchical government, he reserve 
 ed for a few congenial minds only, what he 
 called his imaginary state. 
 
 When he considered the state of Europe, 
 
136 
 
 and examined into the wants of that great 
 and exhausted body, he desired for France 
 a lawful governmeDt, in which strong bar- 
 riers should secure the civil liberty of the 
 individual. He wished to see her return to 
 moderation abroad, and stability at home. 
 Happy had it been for France, could he 
 have lived to accomplish all he had designed 
 for her glory and her welfare. 
 
 What was the astonishment of the army 
 of the enemy, what the terror of its chief, 
 when they learnt that General Moreau was 
 in the ranks of the confederate host. It was 
 attempted to conceal from the French this 
 important news ; but it spread itself with 
 rapidity— soon a confused sentiment of sur- 
 prise and admiration awoke the recollec- 
 tions connected with the great name of Mo- 
 reau. The memory of his exploits, his vir- 
 tues, his humanity, rushed upon minds 
 weary of bondage ; and astonishing results 
 were about to ensue when a dreadful calam- 
 ity suddenly deprived us of a hero, whose 
 name alone was strength. 
 
137 
 
 The campaign had been opened under 
 the most favorable auspices. The union of 
 Russia, of Austria, of England, of Prussia, 
 and of Sweden, presented to view a mass of 
 efficient force, that struck a terror into the 
 oppressors of Europe. Nothing was wanting 
 to this glorious assemblage. Moreau, high 
 in th^esteem and approbation of all the ar- 
 mies, was the depositary of the general 
 hopes. In his behalf all wishes were united, 
 every heart opened at his approach, and 
 Moreau, single in the midst of so many na- 
 tions, preserved that noble simplicity of 
 character, so amiable in great minds, and 
 that admirable ascendancy which distin- 
 guishes them. 
 
 But the moment of the sacrifice as come, 
 and the mysterious destinies of this illustri- 
 ous man drew toward their accomplishment 
 —Hostilities had recommenced on the 17th 
 of august, on the 27th the army of the al- 
 lies was before Dresden— Moreau, at the 
 side of the powerful monarch whose esteem 
 and confidence he had gained, shared all 
 12* 
 
138 ? 
 
 the dangers which his great soul took a 
 pleasure in braving. Moreau, exposed for 
 the first tinie to the murderous fire of an 
 army he had so often led to victory, follow- 
 ed with his eyes its movement, and with 
 that comprehensive glance which ruled for- 
 tune, rapidly combined the dispositions and 
 hopes of the hostile armies. Nothing an- 
 nounced any unusual danger; but alas, how 
 inscrutable the designs cf Providence ! what 
 surprise ! what grief ! A cannon shot, from 
 the intrenchments of the enemy, strikes 
 Moreau; he falls; consternation seizes 
 every heart ; he only is calm ; he seems 
 untouched, unmoved himself, he offers con- 
 solation and encouragement ; he expresses 
 hope. 
 
 A litter was instantly prepared and Mo- 
 reau was carried, bleeding to the place where 
 the head quarters had been established the 
 preceding night. There it was determined 
 the amputation should be performed. I shall 
 not dwell upon the details of the operation 
 he had to undergo, a painful and fatal ope- 
 
139 
 
 ration which exhausted his bodily powers, 
 but could not shake his soul (9). On no oc- 
 casion has the empire of an heroic spirit been 
 more conspicuous ; never were displayed 
 greater composure, greater force of mind ; 
 deceitful t«ppearaaces that encouraged in all 
 hearts a hope of preserving the life of one, 
 whose every hour was numbered, and whom 
 an unseen hand was hastening toward the 
 heaven, that had ordained his sacrifice. 
 
 The same evening the mournful and so- 
 lemn train resumed its march. In proportion 
 as the disastrous news was spread, grief was 
 seen portrayed in every countenance. Mo- 
 narchs, generals, officers, soldiers of every 
 nation and of every kind, approached, not 
 but with trembling, the litter on which Mo- 
 reau lay reclined, and all carried away with 
 them an eternal lesson of fortitude and re- 
 signation. On the 60th they reached Lauen, 
 by way of Rabenau, Altenburgh and Duchs. 
 Moreau now grew weaker, but no complaint 
 escaped him, and his countenance preserved 
 its usual serenity. Me spoke little, but his 
 
HO 
 
 voice was firm and resolute. At Lauen? 
 whence he wrote a few lines to Madame Mo- 
 rean, he continued to lose strength. Having 
 asked of Colonel Rapatel, his former aid-de- 
 camp, a glass of water, which was conveyed 
 to his lips by that officer, Moreau gently 
 pressed his hand, and expired without a pang, 
 on the second of September, at seven in the 
 morning. 
 
 The approach of death gives to the last 
 words of celebrated men a touching and pro- 
 phetic character that moves every heart. — 
 To transmit them to posterity is a sacred du- 
 ty. All that Moreau said upon his bed of 
 suffering breathes that calm and affectionate 
 spirit which so eminently distinguished him. 
 He said to the emperor Alexander, who was 
 in tears, '' Sire, you see here the trunk only 
 *' left, but the heart is still within, and is 
 " wholly yours." To Colonel Rapatel he 
 said, "No, I am not in pain now; but I 
 " have suffered all that man can suffer : an 
 *' amputation is a most painful thing, and two 
 *' in succession — it is too much." And to 
 
141 
 
 the same, after having spoken of the Empe» 
 ror of Russia ; '* Courage, my dear friend, 
 " courage ! is it not a pleasure to die for 
 " such a man ; and, above all, in so glorious 
 '« a cause." Six hours before his death, hav- 
 ing spoken of his situation, he said to Colo- 
 nel Rapatel : " I know I am not out of dan- 
 " ger. If I die, do not forget to tell the 
 *' French, who shall speak to you of me, 
 *' that I had hoped still to render some ser- 
 " vice to my country ; that to free her 
 " from the galling yoke that oppresses her, 
 *' and to war against Bonaparte, all weapons 
 " are allowable ; that I would have conse- 
 *' crated what little talent 1 possess to the 
 '' cause of mankind, but that my heart be- 
 " longed to France/' To an officer, who 
 wondered at his firmness — "I have nothing 
 " to reproach myself with ; my mind is at 
 " rest ; I do not fear death, and that perhaps 
 '' is what will save me." 
 
 Now, if some scornful and captious spirit 
 should dare to ask, what Moreau has done for 
 the common cause ; I would lead him to this 
 
142 
 
 feed of sorrow, I would show him a specta= 
 cle which the ancients considered worthy of 
 the deity, a virtuous man struggling with 
 death, I would say : " Behold those mutilat- 
 " ed, bleeding limbs, those fading eyes, those 
 ** clay-cold hands, that drooping head ! T he 
 *' name of that man shook empires ; yet not 
 <* a single one of the obscure virtues of an 
 " honest man, was wanting in him — All 
 '* earthly glories have crowned his mortal 
 " course, and the palm of martyrdom its 
 " conclusion. He has traversed the seas to 
 " seal with his blood a cause whose triumph 
 '* he did not witness ; and has died a painful 
 " death, far from his family, far from his 
 " adopted country, in the midst of nations, 
 " many of them strangers to his life, know- 
 " ing nothing of him but his name, and who 
 *^ saw him fall without being aware, perhaps, 
 ** of all that he cairied wi^h him to the tomb. 
 ♦* Say, merciless censors, are you so famili- •" 
 " arized to human virtues that you set no 
 *' value on generous self-devotion, and un- 
 «* shaken fidelity, on stern integrity, on com- 
 
/ ^ 143 
 
 " passion for the sufferings of mankind, 
 " and that holy enthusiasm, which crowns 
 " its victims with a circle of immortal glory. 
 " Have you the presumption to search so 
 " deep into the designs of God, and to re- 
 '* quire of the weak, frail instruments of his 
 " will, more than his wisdom allows them to 
 *' accomplish. Do you believe, in truth, that 
 *« he who will remember a sigh, or a glass of 
 ** water gi-ven in kts name^^ has not at this time 
 " turned an eye of compassion upon sufFer- 
 " ing virtue, upon humbled greatness, upon 
 <' noble resignation, upon entire devotion to 
 «' the cause of justice and mankind. Abstain, 
 " I entreat you, from fruitless efforts that dis- 
 «* grac^ you ; from idle slanders that serve 
 " only to betray your rancour. If the sight 
 " of this painful couch, on which lie, virtue, 
 " courage, and misfortune, cannot soften 
 " you, be content to brood in secret over the 
 *' malicious passions that torment you ; to 
 " murmur within yourselves only, at the 
 ^^ greatne ss that confounds you. It is to you 
 
 * Bossiiet, 
 
144 
 
 ** noble and elevated spirits, it is to you, sen- 
 '' sible and generous hearts, that I entrust 
 '* this sacred charge. — Watch over the glory 
 *' of this departed hero ; and be assured, that, 
 *' since the cradle of the political liberties of 
 «' Europe was, like that of Christianity, to be 
 " bathed in the most precious blood, a day 
 " will come, and the day is near at hand, 
 ** when regenerated Europe shall, like reli- 
 '* gion, c unt its martyrs and its apostles." 
 And you, wretched and guilry nation, 
 who now atone for the extreme of licen- 
 tiousness by the extreme of servitude ; who, 
 having formerly extended the limits of the 
 human mind, seek now to plunge it again 
 into the darkness it emerged from ; strange 
 and inconsistent people, by turns the victim 
 and the executioner ; the object of hatred 
 or of pity, outdoing all enterprise, outbrav- 
 ing all courage, baffling all theories, impa- 
 tient of lawful power, yielding and submis- 
 sive to tyranny ; greedy of triumphs, sur- 
 feited with victory. It is to you, French- 
 men, 1 address my concluding words. I 
 
145 
 
 have spoken in behalf of truth and virtue ; 
 I have shown you Moreau such as he r^ jsUy 
 was. Dcire to shut your ears aga^Bs! the 
 calumnies that beset them, the iusi V^us 
 falsehoods that mislead you. Listen to the 
 voice of your own conscience, which de- 
 clares: "Moreau was not the enemy of 
 <« France ; he desired nothing but her hap- 
 " piness and safety, and he fell, as a martyrj 
 " at the entrance of the lists." 
 
 Reflect on his virtues, his exploits, his tro- 
 phies ; anticipate the tardy sentence of pos- 
 terity, and you will acknowledge, that his 
 glory was connected with your welfare, that 
 his intentions were as pure as was his life, 
 that his death, in fine, is the greatest of your 
 misfortunes. 
 
 Providence, in accomplishing its decrees, 
 disposes at pleasure of its creatures, and 
 guides them in ways inscrutable to all ex- 
 cept itself. Moreau appeared for a moment 
 before you ; out the hour of your dehver- 
 ance had not yet arrived, and he fell beneath 
 13 
 
146 
 
 your violence, as the last monument of glo- 
 ry that remained for you to overturn ; a 
 mournful and horrid sacrifice, which seems 
 to have been reserved by heaven for the 
 same hands that had violated the a«hes of 
 Henry the 4th and the tomb of 1 urenne. 
 Frenchmen, this marble seals your destiny, 
 and sets a limit to your hopes — It encloses 
 the deliverer you sighed for ; him who, re- 
 calling you to feelings of humanity, would 
 have brought you back to those sacred prin- 
 ciples which no people has, hitherto, with 
 impunity renounced. At some future day 
 you will bedew with your tears this foreign 
 land ; you will press around this isolated 
 tomb ; you will make these sacred porches 
 resound with your lamentations; but your re- 
 grets will be fruitless; your tears will not alle- 
 viate your griefs ; these ashes will remain in- 
 sensible, this tomb be mute; or if, interrupt- 
 ing the silence of death, a voice shall issue 
 from this monument it will cry — *' Humble 
 ^* yourselves in dust before the throne of 
 
147 
 
 «« Eternal Justice ! Reverence its decrees ! 
 " Wait, in trembling and in tears, until the 
 '« excess of your suffering shall have moved 
 " the compassion of that Providence? to 
 «* whose visible interpositions, you have 
 «« been, so often blind." 
 
J^^OTES. 
 
 (1) " It was proposed to me, as is well kno^yn, to 
 place myself at the liead of an enterprise nearly re- 
 sembling that of the 18th Brumaire. My ambition, 
 if I had possessed m§ch, might easily have found ^ 
 plausible disguise, might have honoured itself, even, 
 with the name of patriotism." Speech of General 
 Moreau, Tuesday, 16th Prairial. An. 12. (l5th June, 
 1804.) 
 
 (2) The following extracts from a manuscript of 
 General Moreau's, of unquestionable authenticity, 
 will, no doubt, be read with great interest. 
 
 " I think it wrong ever to give battle where there 
 not almost a certainty of success. Frederick often 
 had his enemy within reach, but knew how to re- 
 strain himself; a battle inconsiderately offered to the 
 Russians brought him to the very brink of ruin. 
 The battle of Hochstett, which ought not to have 
 -18* 
 
150 
 
 been fought, was felt during the ten years of war 
 that followed it. It is very rarely the interest of 
 both generals to fight : the most skilful of the two 
 eorapels the others the great art, therefore, is to give, 
 not to receive the battle. It is very rare, also, that 
 the forces are equal. The army that relies upon its 
 cavalry, endeavors to draw the other to the ground 
 that suits it, which, ©f course, the other should avoid. 
 An army which has been unfortunate at the opening 
 of a campaign, should not risk the fortune of a battle 
 without the greatest eireuraspection, nor until suffi- 
 cient reinforcements shall have restored confidence to 
 the soldier}'. A state which has on its frontiers sev* 
 eral armies, should, in geiieral, direct the movements 
 of the whole in the same ummMm as those of each in- 
 dividual army, in its particular line of operation, are 
 conducted. When these give battle, it is almost in- 
 variably in refusing one part to give the other more 
 effect. The state, in like manner, sometimes destines 
 one of its armies for a powerful effort, and always at 
 the expense of those which are intended for defensive 
 operations, and which should take especial care not 
 to begin with battles v/hen opposed to an enemy su- 
 perior in numbers. Undoubtedly, armies that are 
 meant i^^r effort and offence, must fight battles, there 
 is no other way to conquer; but is the case the same with 
 those which are opposed to them ? Would not more 
 skill be shov ri in avoiilin?^ batltes against an invading 
 army, but merely delaying its advance by well plan- 
 
idl 
 
 iied diversions, by detaehments on its eommuuieatiofiSj 
 by attacking corps that happen to be exposed | in a 
 word, by making a war of manoeuvre, that may aftord 
 time to the threatened state to strengthen the army 
 charged with its defence, and place it in a situation 
 to try the fortune of a battle with a prospect of suc- 
 
 cess 
 
 ?'» 
 
 (3) I extract from the same manuscript, which has 
 been placed in my hands by Colonel Rapat^l, the fol- 
 lowing opinion respecting Charles the Xllth, an opi- 
 nion which bears the stamp of a master's hand. 
 
 " I think Charles the Xllth has been too severely 
 juddge. He would probably have been the greatest 
 captain of his age if he had lost the battle of Narva. 
 That inspired him with too great a contempt for 
 his enemies, and too much confidence in his own 
 troops. He was a victim to the excess of qualities 
 that constitute a great commander." 
 
 (4) Every thing connected with the 18th Fnictidor 
 and the denunciation of Pichegni,has been admimbly 
 well explained in the argument of M. Bonnet, in^be- 
 half of Moreau. We may perceive, it is true, in that 
 excellent piece, the shackles imposed upon a free ex- 
 pression of opinion, and a plain exposure of the 
 truth; but it nevertheless reflects great honor o?i 
 both the head and the heart of M. Bonnet. A short 
 time before the arrest of Moreau, the First Comsul 
 
152 
 
 sent to propose to him the Legion of Honor. Moreati 
 replied to the person charged with this proposal— 
 " The masi must be mad 5 I have commanded it for 
 '^^ ten years." 
 
 (5) Morrisvilie in Pennsylvania, upon the Dela- 
 ware, near Trenton, thirty miles from Philadelphia, 
 and sixty from New York. — Moreau's house was the 
 most conspicuous in the place. 
 
 (6) Moreau wrote, on the 11th of February, 1813^ 
 from New York, to Colonel Rapatel : " The events 
 ^* that have lately taken place in Russia, are of a 
 " most extraordinary character. The great man has 
 ^^ dwindled there surprisingly. — Besides the folly he 
 " was guilty of in going to Moscow, and remaining 
 " there three weeks too long, as far as I have been 
 " able to judge from his own bulletin s, an the re- 
 " ports of Koutousoff, it appears to me that Bona- 
 " parte lost his senses at Smolensk, that he ought not 
 " to have remained there above a day, but have has- 
 " tened to repass the Dnieper, and to cover himself 
 " with that river, if he had need of the least stay; 
 " wISich I think would, even then, have been impro- 
 " per." — He added, " It is rumored that Bonaparte 
 " is dead ; nothing happier could befall him under 
 '* his present circumstances. One who does not know 
 " how to meet death, is unworthy of the share of glo- 
 ** ry to which he seemed to have pretensions. He 
 
^•' is Hot in the situation of a subordinate General, wIkj 
 " might fiave been commanded to perform stich fol- 
 " lies ; all is of his own iiivention, Ms own execution %, 
 " he would have ascribed the whole glory to himself^ 
 " if he had succeeded ; the disgrace, therefore, justly 
 " belongs to him, and he is a dastardly wretch if he 
 " survives it. It remains for us to pity the weak, 
 " miserable victims of a frantic and cruel ambition, 
 " This should serve as a lesson to mankind ; but 
 ^' none will profit by it." Moreau wrote again on 
 the l7th of February : " the whole of that Russian 
 " campaign, both going and returning, is character- 
 " ized, in a most extraordinary manner, by impru- 
 " deuces and faults, which I find it hard to reconcile 
 ^* with Bonaparte's experience in war. He has acted 
 " like a spoiled child of fortune, thinking nothing 
 " impossible to his star 5 but that of the north has 
 <* failed him. I can form bo idea how the horrible 
 '^ tragedy will end." 
 
 (7) An extract from a letter written by Moreau a 
 few days previous to his death, will show what were 
 his sentimenis in relation to this subject. 
 
 «* Imperial Head-Quarters, 21st August, 1813. 
 
 " I am with tl|piFmy ; about to war against Bona- 
 
 ^* parte, and doing so, I assure you without the least 
 
 *° repugnance 5 being well convinced that if I can 
 
 '^ eonlribute to his downfall, I also shall receive mj 
 
154 
 
 *^ share of the thanks of France, and the whole world, 
 ^^ To overthrow Bonaparte, it makes little difference 
 " what banner we ralSy under, provided we succeed. 
 " If Robespierre had been killed by the royalists, th© 
 ^* republicans would have thanked them four and 
 " twenty hours after." 
 
 (8) If any personal resentment whatever was 
 mingled with the great motives that fixed the destiny 
 of Moreau, it was, perhaps, the indignation excited 
 in him by the unworthy treatment, which Madame 
 Moreau experienced, on occasion of two voyages she 
 was obliged to make to France. The first time, she 
 was closely watched by gen darmes. The second 
 time, which was in the month of August, 1S13, she 
 did not without great difficulty, obtain permission to 
 land, was obliged to embark again in the month of 
 December following, and to proceed to England at that 
 tempestuous season of the year. Her husband's feel- 
 ings were deeply wounded by the recital of these vex- 
 ations and sufferings. 
 
 (9) When the amputation of the left leg was fin- 
 ished, and Doctor Wylie had examined the right leg, 
 he could not refrain from a movement expressive of 
 terror ; Moreau, observing it, said immediately ; — 
 " Well, must this one be taken off too ? Come then, 
 " be quick," 
 
155 
 
 'l^ie letter which liis Majesiy tlie Emperor 
 Alexander addressed to Madame Morean? does too 
 Hiuch honor to her illustrious husbari i! , 'h be omitted 
 here. It i^ives, moreover, the truest and most im- 
 pressive idea of the relations that had beeii sp»>tita- 
 eeeusly formed between two so pure and oobls minds. 
 
 " MADAME, 
 
 " When the dreadful stroke which reached Gen- 
 •' eral Moreau, even at my side, deprived me of the 
 " experience and counsel of that great man, I cher- 
 " ished a hope, that with the most attentive care he 
 " might still be preserved to his family and to my 
 " friendship. Providence has otherwise determlrsed. 
 " He died, as he had lived, in the full vigor of a 
 *^' strong: and unshaken mind. The ^reat calamities 
 " of life admit but of one remedy, which is, to see 
 " that they are shared. la Russia, Madam, you will 
 f* find every where these sentiments ; and if it suit 
 '* you to establish yourself there, I shall make it my 
 *' study to em'iellish the existence of a person, of 
 " whom I esteem it a sacred duty, to become the con- 
 "^ soler and the support. I beg you Madam, to rely 
 " apon me with entire confidence 5 never to leave me 
 " uninformed of any occasion in which I may be use- 
 '' ful to you, and always to write directly to myself. 
 " To anticipate your wishes will ai^'ord im the high- 
 " est pleasure. The frjend^hip whie 1 attaches me 
 " to your husband exieads beyond the tombj and I 
 
156 
 
 '^ bave no other means of acquittiiig myself toward 
 ^^ liira, at least in part, but by doing all that lies in 
 ^i my power, to assure the welfare of his family. — 
 " Accept Madam, on this sad and painful occasion, 
 *' this testimony of friendship, this assurance of my 
 ^^ sentiments. 
 
 « ALEXANDER." 
 
 Toplitzj Qth September, 1813. 
 
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