Government to the French emigrant. I say emigrant
because I have been forced to be one. I had
no intention of being one, but a horde of brigands,
who came from Caen to my house to assassinate me,
considered I had committed the great crime in being
the senior general of the canton and in having
the Grand Cross of St. Louis: this was too much
for them; if it had not been for the cries of my
neighbours, my door would have been broken open,
and I should have been assassinated; and I had but
time to fly by a door at the back, only carrying
away what I had on me. At first I retired
to Paris, but there they told me that I could do
nothing but go into a foreign country, so great was
the hate entertained for me by my fellow-citizens,
although I lived in retirement, never having any
discussion with any one. Thus, General; I
have abandoned all I possessed, money and goods, leaving
them at the mercy of what they call the nation,
which has profited a good deal by this, as I have
nothing left in the world, not even a spot to put
my foot on. If even a horse had been reserved
for me, General, I could ask for what depends on
you, for I have heard it said that some emigrants
have been allowed to return home. I do not even
ask this favour, not having a place to rest my foot.
And, besides, I have with me here an exiled brother,
older than I am, very ill and in perfect second
childhood, whom I could not abandon. I am
resigned to my own unhappy fate, but my sole and great
grief is that not only I myself have been ill-treated,
but that my fate has, contrary to the law, injured
relations whom I love and respect. I have
a mother-in-law, eighty years old, who has been refused
the dower I had given her from my property, and
this will make me die a bankrupt if nothing is
changed, which makes me miserable.
I acknowledge, General, that I know
little of the new style, but,
according to the old form, I am your humble servant,
DuroselBeaumanoir.
I read this letter to the First Consul, who immediately
said, “Bourrienne, this is sacred! Do not
lose a minute. Send the old man ten times the
sum. Write to General Durosel that he shall be
immediately erased from the list of emigrants.
What mischief those brigands of the Convention have
done! I can never repair it all.” Bonaparte
uttered these words with a degree of emotion which
I rarely saw him evince. In the evening he asked
me whether I had executed his orders, which I had
done without losing a moment. The death of M.
Froth had given me a lesson as to the value of time!
Availing myself of the privilege I have already frequently
taken of making abrupt transitions from one subject
to another, according as the recollection of past
circumstances occurs to my mind, I shall here note
down a few details, which may not improperly be called
domestic, and afterwards describe a conspiracy which
was protected by the very man against whom it was
hatched.