The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1853-06-16
SPEECH DELIVERED BY VICTOR HUGO,
AT THE GRAVE OF A FRENCH REFUGEE, IN
THE ISLAND OF JERSEY

THE ISLAND OF JERSEY.
Translated for the Ne~ York EueRiag Post
10 the last days of April the French reiu-
gees in the isle of Jersey followed one of their
comrades to the field of final repose-Victor
Hugo had been requested to pronounce, in the
name of oil, the last farewell His discourse
was as follows
Citizens! The man to whom we have come
to say the last farewell, Jean Bosquet, of Farm
ct GarOnne, was a noble soldier Of democracy.
We have seen him, an infiexible exile, waste
away sorrowfully among US A yearnng for
home was gnawing at his heart he felt that
the recollection of all he had left behind him
was slowly poisoning him; he might have seen
again his absent friends, the beloved places
his native city, his home. He had but to say
word That execrable humiliation. which
M. Bonaparte calls amnesty or pardon, was
offered to him no honestly rejected it-and he
is dead. He was only thirty -four years Of agei
and nowhere he lies.
will not add praises TO- kis simple life, to
this grand death. Let him repose in peace in
this obscure grave, where the earth will soon
cover him, and whence his soul has gone to
seek the eternal hopes of the tomb.
Let him sleep here, this republican and let
the people know that there are still proud and
pnre hearts devoted to its cause. Let the re
public know that men will perish rather thar
iorsake her Let France know that men die
because they can sec her no more
Let him sleep, this patriot, in the land of the
stranger And we, his companions in conflict
and in adversity--we, who closed his eyes-i
his native city, his family, his friends ask us
"Where is he?n we will answer "Dead in
exile !" as the soldery, when the name of La
tour dAuvergne was called, answered, "Dead
on the field of honor"
Citizens! To-day, in France, apostacy is ioy.
ons The old land of the 18th Of July and OF
the 10th of August assists at the hideous spread
of treason and at the triumphal march of trai.
tors. Not one unworthy action which is not
Immediately rewarded A mayor breaks the
law, he is made project soldier dshonors
his flag, he is made q general; priest sells
his religion, he is made bishop; Judge pro.
sttutes justice, he is made a senator a prince.
an adventurcr, commits every crime, from the
base trick which would shame pickpocket. TO
the cruelty which would make an assassin
shudder, and he becomes an emperor Around
and about these men are the sounds of trum
phal music, bouquets and dancing, addresses,
applause, and genuacxions. Servility comes TO
congratulate ignominy.
Citizens These men have their festivals ;
well--we, too, have ours. When one of the
companions of our Punishment, wasted by home
sickness, exhausted by the slow fever of old
habits broken up and affections lacerated gives
way at last, and dies after having drunk to the
dregs all the agonies of prescription, we follow
his bier, covered with a black cloth; wo come
to the side of his grave; We, too, kneel not to
success, but to the tomb we bend over our
buried brother and we say to him "Friend,
we congratulate thee because thou hast been
valiant; we congratulate thee because thou
hast been generous and intrepid we congrat-
ulate thee because thou hast been faithful: we
congratulate thee because thou hast offered up
to thy republican faith the last breath in thy
body, the last pulsation Of thy heart we con-
graduate thee because thou hast suffered we
congratulate that thou art dead f" Then we
raise our heads again, and ~c move away, our
hearts full Of sombre JOY. Such are tho Fest
walls of exiles
This is the austerc and serene thought which
is at the bottom of our souls; and In the pres
ence of this sepulchre, Of this grief which seems
to swallow up a man, the presence of this APP
pearance of humiliation, we feel ourselves
siren thened in our principles and in our con-
The man whoso mind is made up
never treads more firmly than on the shifting
soil of the tomb And our eyes fixed upon this
dead body, upon this being who has faded away,
upon this shadow, which has vanished, we, I'M
shaken believers, glorify that which is immor-
tai, and that which is eternal: Liberty and
God! Yes-God! Never should tomb be
closed, until this great, this living word has
fallen int it The dead claim it, and we are
not the men TO refuse it, Let the free and re-
|igi0us people amongst whom we live under
stand well, that the men Of progress the men
OF democracy, men Of revolution know that
the DESTINY OF the soul is twoiold and the alb
negation they show in this life proves how pro-
Iouudly they rely upon another.
Their faith in this grand and mysterious fu-
ture, rcsists even the repulslvc spectacle which
he cnslayed Catholic clergy has presented since
he second Of December At this moment Ro-
nan papisrn start!cs the human conscience. |
Yes, ! say it-and my heart is full OF bitterness
when think Of NO much abjectness and shame
hese priests who Cor money, for palaces, for |
,rosses and mitres, for the love OF temporal |
goods, bless and glorfy perjury, murder, and
reason-these churches whore re Deuns are |
Jung in honor of crowned crime-yes these
,hurches and these priests would be enough TO
hake the Grmest convictions in the frmest |
ouls If beyond the church we did not see a
heaven; and above the priests God. And
,ere, citizens, on the threshold OF this open
omb--in tho midst Of this thoughtful throng
which surrounds this grave--the moment has
ome TO sound solemn word, that may take
DOT and spring up ia every conscience