The morning star and Catholic messenger. [volume] (New Orleans [La.]) 1868-1881, 1870-09-11
Last Moment. Of ,larshai xey.

4 49,
own tears, that he might no longer think
of anything but the dignity of his death
He wrote his will then rising from his
chair. he walked about his chamber, ex-
changing with great composure lev
words with his guardians. One OF snese
royal body guards, disguised as grenadiers,
had conceived for the hero that involuntary
tenderness of admiration and pity which
the familiarity of q prison, misfortune and
approaching death create in noble heartA
| This was royalist gentleman OF Dauphiny,
| named M. de v. His handsome ccun-
tenance, his marshal character, his accent
of free but respectful frankness, had de-
| ceived the prisoner himself, who thought
he saw in NJ. de V one of the old sub
officers of his great campaigns. He gladly
! conversed with this guard during the long
hours of his weary captivity. This is
the last sun shall ever see, comraae:"
said he, approaching M. de " This
world is at an end for me. This evening
shall lie in another bivouHc' am no
woman, but believe in God and IN an
other life, and feel that have an immor-
tai soul. They spoke to me Of preparation
for death, of the consultations of religion,
of comforting with pious priest: Is that
ie Marechal," replied M. de v, eve
still hope that the King will be worthy OF
Henri W., and that he will nft suffer
France to be deprived of one OF her most
glorious servants, for one day of forgetful.
ness but death is death for all mankind,
| and he who has seen it so near on so many
battle fields, is not afraid to hear 1t spoken
of in dungeon. The voice of last friend
has never been painful to soldier in
hospital wagon. Were in your place,
should allow the curate of st. Su]pice to
enter, and should prepare my soul for
every event." 81 believe you are right"
replied the Marshal, with a friendly smile;
+" we'll, then, let the priest come in" The
curate of st. Sulpice, who was patiently
waiting the favorable moment, in room
of the Luxembourg, was introduced, and
corner of the chamber. The hour which
brought no pardon at length sounded for
the execution. The prisoner, who had
read in the features and heard in the muir
murs of the Chamber of Peers, the mex
orable vengeance of party spirit, had ex-
pected nothing from the tears OF his wife
and children. 1t was for her sake and
theirs that he had affected to hope. He
! dressed himself, therefore, to appear with
propriety before the last fire he was ever to
face. He wore a military frock coat on
the occasion. His door opened; he under
| stood the sign. He descended with a firm
step, serene brow, and lofty look, his
any theatrical affectation, through the
double ranks of the troops drawn up ON
the steps of the staircase, and in the vesti-
bulc of the palace, like a man happy once
more to see the uniform, the arms and the
troops-his own family. On arriving at
the bottom of the flight of steps where the
carriagezawaited him, with the door open,
he stopped instead Of mounting, through
politeness to the priest who accompanied
him and who was yielding him the pre-
cedence. Taking the curate by the arm,
" No, no." said he, with u manner at once
playful and sad, in melancholy allusion to
the object of bis journey, Go in first, Mr.:
Citrate; shall arrive there before YOU"
indicating with look the haven OF his rest.
The carriage proceeded at q foot-pace
through the broad alleys of the tuxem-
bourg, and between the silent ranks of the
soldiers The priest murmured by the side
of the soldier spiritual consolation and
resignation to death. The Marshal listened :.
to him with manly attention, and expected
to listen still longer, when the carriage
suddenly stopped midway between the
railing of the Luxembourg and the Obser,
vatory, in front of a long wall of a black
and fetid enclosure, that bordered an alley
leading out of the avenue. The Govern
ment, ill-advised even in the choice of q
place of execution, seemed DESTROYS of
rendering it more abject and contemptuous
by striking down this illustrious enemy
like some unclean animal, on a cross road,
and at few PAGES from palace, the name
of which will forever be stained by the
memory Of SO foul q deed.
Ney was astonished and looked around
for the cause of this halt, halfway, as he
supposed, when the carriage door opened,
aud he was requested to alight lie felt
that he was never to return, aud gave to
the priest who accompanied him the few
articles he had about him, with his last
remembrances to his family. He emptied
his pockets also of some pieces of gold for
the poor of the parish he then embraced
the priest, the last friend who supplies the
place of all absent friends at this Anal hour.
and marched to the wall towards the place
indicated by platoon of veterans. The
officer commanding the party advanced
towards hlm and requested permission to
bandaSe his eyes. "Do you not know
replied the soldier, that for TWENTY-FIVE
years have been accustomed to look balls
and bullets in the face H. The officer. dis
turbed, hesitating, undecided, expecting,
perhaps, cry of pardon, or fearing to COM
NIT sacrilege of glory by firing on his
general, stood mute between the hero and
his platoon. The Marshal availed himself
OF this hesitation and of the immobility of
the soldiers to cast final reproach upon
his destiny. ~ protest." before God and
my country" he exclaimed, "against the
sentence which has condemned me. APP
peal cal from 1t to man, to posterity, to God"
These words and the countenance, en-
shrlned In their memory of the hero of the
camp, shook the steadiness of the soldiers.
DO your duty" cried the commandment of
rarls to the officer, who was more confused
than the victim. The officer, stumbling,
resumed his place beside hia Marty Nav