of Moreau. His appearance was as calm as his
conscience; and as he sat on the bench he had the appearance
of one led by curiosity to be present at this interesting
trial, rather than of an accused person, to whom the
proceedings might end in condemnation and death.
But for the fall of Moreau in the ranks of the enemy,—but
for the foreign cockade which disgraced the cap of
the conqueror of Hohenlinden, his complete innocence
would long since have been put beyond doubt, and it
would have been acknowledged that the most infamous
machinations were employed for his destruction.
It is evident that Lajolais, who had passed from
London to Paris, and from Paris to London, had been
acting the part of an intriguer rather than of a conspirator;
and that the object of his missions was not so much
to reconcile Moreau and Pichegru as to make Pichegru
the instrument of implicating Moreau. Those who
supposed Lajolais to be in the pay of the British Government
were egregiously imposed on. Lajolais was only
in the pay of the secret police; he was condemned
to death, as was expected, but he received his pardon,
as was agreed upon. Here was one of the disclosures
which Pichegru might have made; hence the necessity
of getting him out of the way before the trial.
As to the evidence of the man named Rolland, it was
clear to everybody that Moreau was right when he said
to the President, “In my opinion, Rolland is
either a creature of the police, or he has given his
evidence under the influence of fear.”
Rolland made two declarations the first contained
nothing at all; the second was in answer to the following
observations: “You see you stand in a terrible
situation; you must either be held to be an accomplice
in the conspiracy, or you must be taken as evidence.
If you say nothing, you will be considered in the
light of an accomplice; if you confess, you will be
saved.” This single circumstance may serve
to give an idea of the way the trials were conducted
so as to criminate Moreau. On his part the general
repelled the attacks, of which he was the object, with
calm composure and modest confidence, though flashes
of just indignation would occasionally burst from
him. I recollect the effect he produced upon
the Court and the auditors at one of the sittings,
when the President had accused him of the design of
making himself Dictator. He exclaimed, “I
Dictator! What, make myself Dictator at the head
of the partisans of the Bourbons! Point out
my partisans! My partisans would naturally be
the soldiers of France, of whom I have commanded nine-tenths,
and saved more than fifty thousand. These are
the partisans I should look to! All my aides
de camp, all the officers of my acquaintance, have
been arrested; not the shadow of a suspicion could
be found against any of them, and they have been set
at liberty. Why, then, attribute to me the madness
of aiming to get myself made Dictator by the aid of
the adherents of the old French Princes, of persons