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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 PAGE THREE