will continue to overwhelm France; but when peace is
restored we shall see if it is impossible to force
Bonaparte to restore republican institutions, and
meanwhile we are overcome by grief and despair.
The brave chief of the ‘Philadelphi’, the
pure Oudet, has been assassinated, and who is worthy
to take his place? Poor Oudet! never was one
braver or more eloquent than he! With a noble
haughtiness and an immovable firmness of character,
he possessed an excellent heart. His first battle
showed his intrepid spirit. When cut down at Saint
Bartholomew by a ball, his comrades wished to bear
him away, “No, no,” cried he; “don’t
waste time over me. The Spaniards! the Spaniards!”—
“Shall we leave you to the enemy?” said
one of those who had advanced towards him. “Well,
drive them back if you do not wish me to be left with
them.” At the beginning of the campaign
of Wagram, he was colonel of the Ninth regiment of
the line, and was made general of brigade on the evening
before the battle, his corps forming part of the left
wing commanded by Massena. Our line was broken
on this side for a moment, and Oudet made heroic efforts
to reform it; and after he had been wounded by three
bayonet strokes, with the loss of much blood, and dragged
away by those of us who were forced to fall back,
still had himself fastened on his horse in order that
he might not be forced to leave the battlefield.
“After the battle, he received orders to advance
to the front, and to place himself with his regiment
in an advantageous position for observation, and then
return immediately to headquarters, with a certain
number of his officers, to receive new orders.
He executed these orders, and was returning in the
night, when a discharge of musketry was suddenly heard,
and he fell into an ambush; he fought furiously in
the darkness, knowing neither the number nor character
of his adversaries, and at break of day was found,
covered with wounds, in the midst of twenty officers
who had been slain around him. He was still breathing,
and lived three days; but the only words he pronounced
were those of commiseration for the fate of his country.
When his body was taken from the hospital to prepare
it for burial, several of the wounded in their despair
tore the bandages from their wounds, a sergeant-major
threw himself on his sword near the grave, and a lieutenant
there blew out his brains. Behold,’ said
F——, ‘a death that plunges
us into the deepest despair!’ I tried to prove
to him that he was mistaken, and that the plans of
the ‘Philadelphi’ were mad, but succeeded
very imperfectly; and though he listened to my advice,
he again earnestly recommended secrecy.”