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SO PIE PAGES TEO Pl PIT SCEAP HOOK
A RELIC EXTRAORDINARY.
Interview With One of Napoleon’s
Veterans—His Views of Water
loo and. Grouchy.
(St. Joseph, Mo., Gazette.)
Yesterday an old French gentle
man passed through this city, en
route for California, whose life has
indeed been an eventful one. His
name is Jean Brigard Beauviere, and
he w r as born near Rouen, France, in
1791. Being of an adventurous turn
he joined the army under the first
Napoleon as soon as he was old
enough, and was at Waterloo from
the beginning to the end. He has
a scar on his arm near his elbow,
which, he says, was made from a bail
fired from a Biscay musket, that
being the only wound he received
during the whole engagement.
The Greait Napoleon.
“What do you think of the great
Napoleon?” said the Gazette
“Many, you know, have said numer
ous hard things against him.”
“They are all vile English slan
ders,” said the old man, “nothing
but slanders from beginning to end.
The Emperor was the best man that
ever lived, and I would not believe
their vile slanders if the whole world
was to turn against him. The al
lies did rfot send him to St. Helena
because they wanted to punish him.
They knew he was their master and
were afraid of him. That is what
they sent him to that barren rock
for. Mon Dieu! what a crime they
committed when they sent the great
Emperor to be persecuted to death
by such a man as Si Hudson Lowe!
It makes my blood boil yet to think
about it!”
“Where were you when the Em
peror escaped from Elba on the In
constant and landed at Cannes, pre
paratory to his memorable march to
Paris?” asked the reporter.
“I was in the army of France
under Marshal Ney, and was with
him when he marched out to meet
the Emperor under the promiso to
bring that great man to Paris in
an iron cage.”
“Did the soldiers under Marshal
Ney take to the idea of joining the
fortunes of the returning monarch,
or were they more or less loyal to
the king?” the Gazette next asked.
“Every man in the command loved
the Emperor as a father, and they
would have joined him whether the
Marshal did or not. Many of them
had been with him at Austerlitz,
Lodi and Wagram, and had no idea
of fighting against their Emperor,
who had led them to so many victo
ries. When the Emperor summoned
Marshal Ney to - join his standard,
and called him ‘the bravest of the
brave/ memories of the glorious vic
tories of the past came over him,
and he forgot everything except Ihe
fact that his old commander was
again calling upon him to put him
self at the head of the ‘old guard.’
WATSON’S WEEKLY JEFFERSONIAN.
Ah, my young friend, there never
was anything like it before, and
there has never keen anything like
it sin Ce. The soldiers, upon meet
ing the Emperor, went almost mad
with joy. They embraced each other,
threw their caps high above their
heads and the air fairly rang with
joyous shouts of ‘Vive ‘lEmperor
eur! ’ Some persons deep in the con
spiracy had procured a large num
ber of tri-color badges, the emblem
of the Napoleonic dynasty, and ruth
lessly tearing from their coats the
white cockades, they rapidly replaced
them with the tri-color badges.”
“What section of the army were
you with at Waterloo?” asked the
Gazette.
“I was under Gen. Lanier, and
took part in the battle with Welling
ton’s main forces.”
The Defeat at Waterloo.
Here the reporter asked him his
opinion regarding the defeat of the
French and about Groucny’s con
duct. His reply was: “I never be
lieved that Grouchy was a traitor.
He made a great mistake, no doubt,
but I don’t think he was untrue to
the cause of the Emperor. Never was
a battle planned as well as the bat
tle of Waterloo. The heavy rain
was a great misfortune for us, be
cause it made the ground so soft
our artillery could not be used to
the best advantage. If Blucher could
have been engaged as the Emperor
intended he should be, the victory
would have been complete, and he
wordd have marched back to Paris
the conqueror of the world. But
Blucher’s arrival upon the scene just
as victory was perching upon
our banners gave the allies renewed
courage, and they again rallied. Then
came Ney’s glorious charge, the ef
fect of which was so different to
what the Emperor expected on ac
count of the narrow, unseen ravine
right across the line of charge, down
into which so many brave soldiers
went to their death.”
At this point the old man seemed
almost overcome by painful emotions
occasioned by memories of the past.
“The soldiers wept like children,”
he continued, “when the Emperor
said, ‘All is lost so rthe present.’
and the retreat began. We knew,
then,
That the Empire Was Dead.
and that we would never again
march to battle under our beloved
Emperor.”
The reporter could have listened
to his reminiscences for hours, but
the time came for the old soldier to
pursue his journey westward and
the interview had to como io an
end.
Mr. Beauviere came to America
from France many years ago and
settled near Bordentown, N. J.,
where Joseph Bonaparte, brother of
the emperor, lived for so long a time.
He raised up a family of children,
and they all grew up, married and
located in different parts of the coun-
try until himself and his good old
wife were left to themselves. Not
long since his wife died, and one of
his sons, who is a rich man in Cali
fornia, wrote to him to come West
and accept a welcome home with
him. The old gentleman accepted,
and is now fast steaming onward to
ward the Golden Gate and loving
friends.
Although eighty-nine years of age,
he is still robust and hearty, and his
mind is as clear as it ever was. He
was dressed in elegant style, and
wore a fur cap and overcoat, making
him the very picture of a well-pre
served and elegant old gentleman.
HENRY CLAY AS SEEN BY HIS
VALET.
The Statesman Was Still a Hero —
Anecdotes Told of His Per
sonal and Home Habits—
Some good Stories
Told Off-Hand.
Eli Grant is the name of an aged
negro living at No. 477 Preston
street, between Breckinridge and
Caldwell. Old Eli is blind and phy
sically worn out by his long term
of hard knocks with the vzorld ,yet
withal he has a retentive memory,
and can relate some interesting oc
currences connected with the life of
Kentucky’s great statesman, Henry
Clay, at his Ashland home in Fay
ette county. This venerable black
man was visited yesterday after
noon by a Courier-Journal reporter,
to whom he spun a story that has
in it points of interest well worth
reading. Os himself Eli says but
little. He was born near Lynchburg,
Va., on the banks of the James Riv
er, and his father was for twenty
years ferryman at that point. When
Eli was about thirteen years old he
went on a trip to New Orleans with
his master, Edward Carter, a weal
thy planter. There he had occasion
to act for a few days as the valet
of Henry Clay, who was then visit
ing in the Crescent City. He was
a bnght, sprightly boy, and the
statesman became so much attached
to him that he bought him from his
master, paying the rather stiff price
of $1,200. In a short time he went
to his new master’s home at Ash
land, and lived as the favored ser
vant of the man “who would rather
be right than be president,” for a
number of years. Mr. Clay at that
time was in the prime of his
vigorous in mind and body, and it
was during those years that he gain
ed his crowning glory as an orator
and a statesman.
Love for His Daughter.
“I kin remember old man Clay
jest like it wur yisterday,” said Eli,
in his simple language. “I allers
loved him, and I allers love to talk
about him.” Then the old man went
on to talk about some of Mr. Clay’s
characteristics in domestic life. He
said that he was exceedingly fond of
his wife, and in addressing her al
ways called her “my dear.” He
was kind and indulgent to his chil
dren, and generous in his treatment
toward his servants. His favorite
child was Anna, the wife of Mr.
James Irvine, whose death was an
nounced to him while he was at a '
fashionable dinner party in Wash
ington. The news caused a fearful
shock, and old Eli thinks that it was
the prime cause of his master’s
death, which occurred a short time
afterward.
His Home Hobby.
His hobby at home was his stock.
He was passionately fond of fine
horses and cattle, and would always
see personally that they had the best i
attention. Eli tells of a fin e New
foundland dog that was presented
to his master by an admiring friend
who lived in Nova Scotia. The dog
was very intelligent, and the “Sage
of Ashland” trained him with his
own hand to perform a number of
wonderful tricks, one of which Eli
remembers to be as follows: In one
of the pastures in which Mr. Clay
allowed his finest stock to run was
a fine well, with a large trough at- ■
tached, by means of which the cat
tle were supplied with water. The
water was drawn from the well by
the bucket and spindle system, but
it required a great deal of manual
labor to keep it in operation. To
avoid this Mr. Clay constructed a
small tread-mill, attached it to the
spindle of the well with an iron i
crank, and then trained the do<»- to
walk the tread-mill. In this manner
the trough was kept constantly fill
ed with water, and the clever dog be
came so accustomed to the perform
ance that, without the necessity of be-j
ing bid, he made it his dutv to watch
the well constantly and see that the
trough always had in it a sufficient]
supply of water to keep the coppers I
of the blooded stock cool. Mr. Clay I
loved the dog, and was very fond of]
watching him go through with the]
tread-mill performance. He would!
always have the performance exhib-H
ited to his visitors, and when the]
good old canine finally gave up the]
ghost, he had him respectably buried!
and erected at the head of his gravel
an elegant marble slab. J
The Presidential Bee. |
* Jh
In speaking of Mr. Clay’s presi-l
dential contests, Eli said, regretful- 9
ly shaking his head: “De old marsew
allers fit clar up to de chin, but |
somehow nutlier he couldn’t knocks
de passimons. I thought he war go-B
ing to git it shuah in 1848. Den ev-i
erybody war a singin’ a song dati
went like dis: I
“ ‘When Jackson was the president]
And Adams was left behind, • K
Henry Clay will take the day |
In eighteen hundred and forty- S
nine.’ 3
“Ole marse didn’t take de day,]
(Continued on Page Seven.) i
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