New Hampshire Statesman And State Journal

MISCELLANY.

THE FATE OF NEY.

The outlines are of course familiar to the reader, but it possesses sufficient interest to make the particulars desirable. We quote from the Family Library.

"The story of Waterloo need not to be repeated. Suffice it to say, that on no former occasion did the 'Bravest of the Brave' exhibit more impetuous though hopeless valor. Five horses were shot under him: his garments were pierced with balls: his whole person was disfigured by gore and mud: yet he would have continued the contest on foot while life remained, had he not been forced from the field by the dense and resistless columns of the fugitives.

He returned to the capital, and there witnessed the second imperial abdication and the capitulation of Paris, before he thought of consulting his safety by flight. He hoped that by virtue of the twelfth article of that convention, he should not be disquieted; but the ordinance of July the 24th terribly undeceived him.

Intending to withdraw into Switzerland, and afterward to repair to the United States, he procured his discharge from Davoust, then minister at war. On reaching Lyons, Suchet tendered him money and passports; but he declined the generous offer, and secreted himself with one of his relatives, at the Chateau of Bessonis, near Aurillac, in the department of the Lot. But he was discovered by means of the rich Egyptian sabre presented to him on his marriage by the First Consul, which happened to be indiscreetly left on a sofa in a room open to strangers. On learning this circumstance, the prefect despatched some agents of the police, accompanied by an escort of gens-d'armes, to arrest the owner. They surrounded the chateau, and Ney at once surrendered himself.

He was conducted to Paris. A council of war, composed of French marshals, was appointed to try him; but they had little inclination to pass sentence on an old companion in arms, and declared their incompetency to try one who, when he consummated his treason, was a peer of France. Accordingly, by a royal ordinance of the 12th of November, the Chamber of Peers were directed to take cognizance of the affair. His defence was made to rest, by his able advocates, Berryer and Dupin, on the 12th article of the capitulation: but this was overruled, on the ground of his not being amenable to French laws, since Sarre-Louis, his native town, had recently been dissevered from France. This indeed the prisoner himself rejected; 'I am a Frenchman,' cried Ney, 'and will die a Frenchman!' The result was, that he was found guilty and condemned to death, by the immense majority of one hundred and sixty-nine to seventeen.

The marshal was in bed, and asleep, when he was awaked next morning by an officer who proceeded to read the sentence. On hearing the preamble enumerating his titles, he interrupted the recital by saying, "Why cannot you simply call me Michael Ney;—now a French soldier and soon a heap of dust?' His last interview with his wife and four children was far more bitter than the punishment he was about to undergo. This heavy trial over, he was perfectly calm. 'Marshal,' said one of his sentinels, a poor grenadier, 'you should now think of God.' 'Do you suppose,' answered Ney, 'that any one need teach me to die?' But, immediately giving way to better thoughts, he added, 'Comrade you are right: I will die as becomes a Christian: send for the Curate of St. Sulpice!'

At eight o'clock, on the morning of December the 7th, the marshal, with a firm step, and an air as calm as if he had been in a field of battle, descended the steps of the Luxembourg, and entered a coach which conveyed him to the place of execution, outside the garden gates. He alighted and advanced towards the file of soldiers drawn up to despatch him. To an officer who proposed to bandage his eyes, he replied, "Are you ignorant that for twenty-five years I have been accustomed to face both ball and bullet?" He took off his hat, raised it above his head, and said, with a firm voice. "I declare before God and man that I never betrayed my country: may my death render her happy! Vive la France!" Then, turning to the men, and striking his other hand on his heart, he gave the word, "Soldiers—fire!"

Thus, in his 47th year, did "the Bravest of the Brave" expiate one great error, alike alien from his natural character, and unworthy of the general course of his life. If he was sometimes a stern, he was never an implacable enemy. He was sincere, honest, blunt even: so far from flattering, he often contradicted him on whose nod his fortunes depended. He was, with a few exceptions, merciful to the vanquished, and while so many of his brother marshals dishonored themselves by rapine and extortion, Michael Ney lived and died poor.

This extraordinary man, says Col. Napier, was notoriously indolent—and unlearned in the abstract science of war, it was necessary for him to see in order to act. His character seemed to be asleep, until some imminent danger aroused all the marvellous energy and fortitude with which nature had endowed him. He who had fought five hundred battles for France—not one against her—was shot as a traitor!"