Notes and Documents

NOTES AND DOCUMENTS

The ^Autobiography of Teter Stephen T>u Tonceau

EDITED BY JAMES L. WHITEHEAD

Philadelphia. Feb 3rd. 1844 I arrived at the Isle of Re in the summer of 1775. I believe in the month of June5 I was just entering into the 16th year of my age. I found the family in deep affliction, on account of the recent death of my father. The family consisted of my grandmother, who owned the house we lived in, two of her daughters, my aunts who, of course, were single, my mother, with her three children, who were, my elder sister, my younger brother and myself. The number of attendants had been reduced, we had then only two female servants, a cook and a chambermaid who had both been long in our service. In other respects the house appeared as it used to do. I saw no difference in our manner of living, except that we saw no company but a few intimate friends. As you wish to be acquainted with my sister and brother, the latter of whom has had you upon his knees, though you were too young at that time to remember it, and as they may make their appearance in the course of these letters, I shall take this opportunity to tell you something about them. My sister was one year older, and my brother one year younger than myself; My sister was tall, fair and rather hand- some. You have her picture drawn when she was no longer in the bloom of youth. At the age of seventeen or eighteen, she was engaged to a young officer in the French Army who was our relation, and who was killed in a duel. Since that time she never would hear of matri- mony. She was not only sincerely but profoundly religious; nevertheless she would willingly join in all innocent amusements, except dancing, which she hated as I have told you. She joined gaiety to de- votion, of which she did not make a parade. After the death of my mother and grand mother, on the invitation of some friends, she re-

243 244 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS April moved to Fontenay le Comte, in the neighbouring province of Toitu, now in the Department of La Vendee. That department and the town of Fontenay, were, during the revolution the scene of a civil war which was carried on with cruelty, massacre, and devastation. The relation of the events of that war makes humanity shudder. It was not only a civil but a religious war, the fanatic and ignorant peasantry fought for the throne and the altar with the greatest desperation. Their priests made them believe that they were invulnerable, and they be- lieved it though they were moved by thousands. In the midst of that exasperated population and exposed to the daily inroads of the republican armies, who, with fire and sword, carried destruction in their way, my sister, though known to be a zealous catholic, was so much respected in the town where she lived, that she escaped the effects of their rage. My brother related to me an anecdote on this subject which is worth remembering. One day a band of republican soldiers entered my sister's house, to search it and to discover whether there were not priests in it. In the course of their search they discovered my father's miniature picture, dressed, of course, in his uniform, which picture you have, it having been sent to me after my sister's death. The soldiers looked at the picture, and after some minutes their leader who was a corporal or a serjeant, suddenly burst into tears and exclaimed "Ah! it is so, that our officers looked before the revolution!" That put an end to the search and the soldiers retired. There were two priests concealed in the house. My mother and the rest of the family wanted my sister to be a nun j we had an aunt who was Abbess of the convent of S\ Claire at La Rochelle, but my sister firmly resisted it; she was religious but not fanatic. She remained at Fontenay, loved and respected by all who knew her, until the year 1839, when to my great regret she died at the age of eighty. During sixty five years from the time of my first separation from her, I kept with her a regular correspondence. She was entirely blind when she died, having during five or six years pre- ceeding, gradually lost her sight, in which you see I am imitating her. My brother was destined for the military life which became his profession. I shall have occasion to speak more of him in the course of these letters, therefore, I shall say, at present, no more about him, except that he died at Fontenay in the arms of our good sister in the year 1835, at the age of 74 deeply regretted by me. i94o NOTES AND DOCUMENTS 245 As to me, my mother had always wanted me to be a priest. In the then distressed state of our family, there seemed to be no other re- source, but my inclination was always opposed to it, and my mother knew it well, but all the family were in favour of her plan, and what could I do? I resisted as long as I could, but my resistance was in vain. My mother was not a strict catholic, but she was a woman of the world, and knew mankind. She was a severe woman, as you may see by her picture in our front parlour. It was the fashion, at that time, in France, never to shew to their children the extent of their affection for them lest they should abuse It 5 therefore I do not remember to have received even a kiss from my father or mother; yet I know that my father loved me well. My mother preferred my brother, because he had more of those worldly graces that she admired. She was one of those who did not expect much from me. She was, however, a sensible woman, and the advice which she gave to her children was excellent. I remember her telling me, amy son, if you are poor, talk of your poverty as much as you please, but never shew it." These and other maxims of the same kind, I have never forgotten, and have always endeavoured to make them, the rule of my conduct. My mother was well informed of my heretical opinions, which I softened to her by the name of doubts. She lamented them exceedingly, not because she cared very much [for] theological dogmas, but because she knew that those opinions of mine, if known, would impede my advancement in the world, and be a death blow to all her hopes. She would sometimes argue with me on the subject, not as a doctor5 but she made use of the common arguments in vogue, at that time. She would say, "The prot- estants admit that a good catholic may be saved, we on the contrary say that out of the church there is no salvation, you had better, therefore, take the safest course!" That argument, however, did not convince me. I hated the exclusive system, and I could not believe that all mankind, except the catholics, were condemned to everlasting fire. Her stock of arguments was soon exhausted, and I remained as incredulous as before.' There was one, however, which was more capable of making an impression upon me. I was not called upon to make vows, or to bind myself for life. I was only to consent to submit to the tonsure and wear the ecclesiastical habit. No vows or promises were required of me, and I might leave the ecclesiastical profession whenever I pleased. The tonsure would entitle me to enjoy what was 246 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS April called a simple benefice without charge of souls; that is to say without being bound to perform any ecclesiastical duties. That would leave me at liberty to choose another profession at a future day. This was in opposition to my religious principles, and appeared to me like a species of hypocrisy. But what I could not resist was the tears of my mother, and the entreaties of the family, who looked upon me as their patron, and the hope of their future support. I reluctantly consented to take the tonsure, and rely for the future on the chapter of accidents. While these things were in agitation, Dom Reymond came to the Isle of Re, for what purpose I know not, but I presume it was to find some means to get me again into his clutches. He called several times upon my mother; what passed between them in private I cannot tell, but I was present at the last visit that he paid to her. He then shewed his revengeful spirit by representing me as a person devoid of natural feeling, and as an example of it, he said, that I had not shed one tear on the death of my father. That was true, and on other occasions had been observed in the family, and I had been severely but unjustly re- proached with it. Nature has not bestowed upon me the gift of tears, but my grief on the loss of friends is not the less poignant, the more so, as I [am] denied that relief which nature has kindly provided to al- leviate and soften the pains of sorrow. My persecutor shewed his malice but gained nothing by it. It only made more painful my situation with the family. It being agreed that I should take the tonsure my mother and I prepared to go together to La Rochelle to arrange matters with the Bishop. Our journey to that place, and its results will be the subject of my next letter. Adieu

Philadelphia Feb 7th. 1844 I do not exactly remember the time when we went to La Rochelle, but I believe it was in August 1775. My mother introduced me to the bishop who received me very kindly. He had heard of my little triumph at S\ Jean d'Angely, and was predisposed in my favour. He told my mother that he would do every thing in his power to promote my advancement. As a proof of it he said "that the rule required that a young candidate should spend two or three years in a seminary to learn theology -, that the mode of life in such an institution was not pleasing i94o NOTES AND DOCUMENTS 247 to young men, but that he would get over the difficulty. He had a college in a town called Bressuire in Poitu within the limits of his dio- cese, which college was entirely under his direction. He would send me thither as a regent or tutor, and I should study theology by myself, under the direction of the principal who was a very learned man. It was certainly a great favour, for the regents in that college had all gone through their theological studies in the seminary. The bishop added that he would afterwards take care of my advancement, by which we understood that when a vacancy occurred, I should be provided for out of the livings at the prelate's disposal. My mother, of course, was very thankful; for my part, I cannot recollect that I was otherwise than indifferent. I was giddy and thoughtless, and hardly realized what I was about to do. My mother returned to the Isle of Re, and left me at La Rochelle, in the house of a relation, until I should receive the tonsure, and become a member of the ecclesiastical body. Previous to that ceremony it was necessary that I should spend a week or two in the seminary. That was called a retreaty and I was to spend my time in religious meditation and prayer. I was not to take a share in the theological studies3 the sole object of this retreat was to prepare me for the ceremony that was to follow. I entered the Semi- nary, and O, heaven! what a life did I lead there! Prayers day and night; solitude in a narrow cell; fasting in the most rigorous manner, and, in short, a severe ascetic life is what I underwent during my stay in that place, and what I should have had to undergo during two or three years but for the good bishop's kindness to me. It may well be supposed that I left that dungeon, as I called it, with inexpressible joy. The ceremony at last took place, I need not relate the particulars of it, very uninteresting to you, and which I do not exactly remember; but I cannot pass over in silence a curious anecdote which shews what were my feelings, and my thoughtless, boyish character at that time. There was in France a religious sect called the Jansenists which was obnoxious to the government. They professed to be catholics, and dif- fered only from the others by a greater severity of manners, and some unintelligible dogmas, but they formed a party in the state. The pope, at the request of the French government, had fulminated a terrible 248 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS April bull against them called the "Bull Unigenitus. Every candidate for orders was obliged to subscribe his name to it. I was called upon with a number of others for that purpose. We met in a vestry room, as well as I can remember, at one end of which was a desk, on which was a large folio book in which was inscribed the Bull, and which was covered with an immense number of signatures. I knew nothing of the Jansenists or their doctrines, nor did I care about it. All I knew was that the Bull contained their condemnation. When we were assembled the candidates went to the desk each one in his turn, and subscribed their names to the instrument in perfect silence. At last my turn came. While the others were signing, the idea struck me that I must distin- guish myself. I got up very gravely and addressing the priests who were present, I told them that I had never seen or read the Bull Uni- genitus, that they could not expect that I should sign a document the contents of which were unknown to me. I asked, therefore, permission to read the Bull, after which I would determine on what I should do. This excited great astonishment, as there had not been an example of it at any time before. The prayer, however, was reasonable and could not be refused. "By all means, Sir," was the answer. I went to the desk, turned to the Bull, and pretended to be reading and meditating though I now confess, that I did not read a single word. After a reasonable time spent in that manner, I said with an audible voice "very well." and then signed my name. This gave me a great reputation among the ecclesiastics, and even out of their circle, for I heard it rumoured about the town. It was foolish and a boyish trick which, at a more advanced age, I never should have thought of. Yet it is pretty well known that in certain Universities abroad, certain ar- ticles are subscribed by candidates for degrees, and even for holy orders, who either do not understand, or do not believe in the doctrines that they contain. After going through the necessary formalities, I remained a few days at La Rochelle, with my friends. I permitted the barber to exercise his razor on the crown of my head. I had my fine head of hair cut short, and curled round the head after the ecclesiastical fashion. I put on the ecclesiastical vestments consisting of a long gown, or cas- sock, called soutane, extending from the neck almost to the feet, and fastened, I believe, with a hundred small buttons, which gave me not i94O NOTES AND DOCUMENTS 249 a little trouble every morning in dressing. A band and scull cap, com- pleted my dress, and I was now entitled to be called Mons. l'Abbe. With this new dignity I returned to the Isle of Re there to wait for further orders. After spending a few days with my family, I went to pay a last visit to my good old aunt tMadame de Camouilles at her country seat in the village of Sainte Marie. It was in the pleasant season of vintage. I remained there a couple of weeks reading fairy tales, Arabian and Persian tales 3 and other works of the like kind, of which I have always been very fond, and of which my aunt's library was full, as it was the fashionable reading in her younger days. I enjoyed those books, sitting on a bench in her garden, and devouring peaches and pears at a great rate. I love to remember those scenes, as I felt in the midst of them, unalloyed pleasure. My aunt was a sensible woman, well read in history, and particularly well acquainted with that of her own times. Her conversation was delightful, and it was with great regret, that I was at last forced to quit her. She was then 80 years old, but yet a woman of the world. I cannot forget that at the moment of our separation, as I advanced to give her the last embrace, she told me, "My son, kiss my chin, for fear of taking off the rouge." After leaving the good old lady, I returned home to my family, where I remained until about the end of October or beginning of November, when I received a letter from the Abbe Gougeand the principal of the college of Bressuire, inviting me by the bishop's order to go there without delay, and take the place that had been assigned to me. I lost no time in complying with that demand. My mother had concealed my Eng- lish books, for fear of their heretical principles, but I had saved Mil- ton's Paradise Lost which I took with me, and which followed me to this country, where I lost it many years ago, I cannot tell how. I also took with me a little Elzevier [sic] copy of Juvenal and Persius which I still preserve in my library. I arrived at Bressuire, as well as I can recollect in the beginning of November 1775, being then a few month's more than 15 years old. I was cordially received by the principal, who was a learned and an excellent man. He was also, in his manners, a perfect gentleman. On my recurring to my first letter to Mr. W. I find that September is mentioned as the time of my arrival at Bressuire, but it is a mistake, 25O NOTES AND DOCUMENTS April which I beg you to correct in your copy. If the mistake is mine, it arises from the haste in which my first letters were written without sufficient attention to dates. Even as it is they crowd rather confusedly upon my mind. I have briefly related in the letter above mentioned86 the causes which excited in me the most profound disgust for my situation in that college, and which obliged me to run away from it. Before I took that resolution, I made my complaints to the principal, who, as I have said was an excellent man. He remonstrated with me as well as he could. He told me that the bishop had ordered him to leave me at full liberty, and that I might quit my class if I pleased, and employ my time as I should think proper. As to theology, the only thing he did, was to put a text book in my hand; he never asked me questions, or examined me upon that subject. All these favours were the cause of the jealousy of the pedants, who held the different classes in the College. They hated me cordially. I had brought with me from the Isle of Re, a little dog which I was very fond of, and which, in my Anglomania I called "come here" It was against the rules of the college 5 nevertheless the principal permitted me to keep the little animal, which was the cause of great scandal among my colleagues. They tried several times to kill the poor little beast 3 at last they threw him in the privy whence he was drawn out by my own scholars who were very much attached to me; but he lived only a few minutes afterwards. This was a drop in the bucket which filled the measure of my griev- ances. The principal though a good man was weak, and his authority was not sufficient to protect me from my tormentors. In other respects my situation at Bressuire was far from being dis- agreeable. I visited the principal houses of the place, and was well received by them. The nobility of the neighborhood which was nu- merous, some of them being of very ancient and even historical families, but not rich enough to appear at court, lived in their old feudal castles, with their turrets, ditches, bridges and other warlike accompaniments. Those habitations were evidently in a state of decay; the wall flower grew in the apertures of the dilapidated walls, and displayed their beautiful yellow blossoms to the ambient air. The wild and romantic appearance of those places made me fond of visiting 86 See PENNSYLVANIA MAGAZINE OF HISTORY AND BIOGRAPHY, April, 1939, p. 197, i94o NOTES AND DOCUMENTS 2$l them, and I was often invited to dinner by their owners, it being understood all around, that I was a favourite of the Bishop. All these diversions, however, could not prevent me from feeling the disagreeableness of my situation. At last it became intolerable, and finding that the principal, however willing and well disposed, could not effectually check the proceedings of those who were determined to get rid of me, I finally resolved to satisfy them by flying from the place, and throwing myself on the wide world. For the sake of truth I must add, that I was also induced to this step by my religious scruples, and to be perfectly candid, by a restless disposition, and a spirit of adventure which made me see every thing in bright colours before me. You will say, perhaps, that I was much to blame, and that it was even cruel in me, and at least undutiful thus to abandon my mother and family, who relied on me for their future support. But you must observe in the first place, that I received no salary, and that for every thing, except board and lodging, I was still a burden on my relations. Besides in the church, as in every other institution that has lucrative places at its disposal, few die, as Mr. Jefferson says, and none resign. Years, perhaps, might elapse, before a vacancy occurred, and I was not very sure that the benefice would be such as might be, and, perhaps, that it would be offered to me. There are strange vicissitudes in human affairs. In my romantic imagination, I fancied I might succeed by my individual and spontaneous exertions to provide for myself, and for those who were dear to me. In the meantime while my grandmother lived, the family were not in absolute want, and at her death, her property would be divided between us. These reflections occurred to me and had weight in my mind, which, added to my strong desire for independence, overbalanced every other consideration. I finally determined to set out for the capital, and carried that determination into effect as you will see in my next letter. Adieu

Philadelphia Feby 9th 1844 We were now at the beginning of winter, which announced itself with more than usual severity. I had fixed on Christmas day the 25th December 1775 for my departure. I took my measures secretly.'I sold some of my clothes which produced 18 livres, a little more than 252 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS April three dollars in our money, which considering the cheapness of living in France at that time might be considered as double that sum. With that treasure in my pocket, to which I added a spare shirt, not forget- ting my Milton and my Juvenal, and dressed in plain clothes, I sal- lied out on foot at break of day, on the day I had determined on, and took the road to Paris. The distance from Bressuire to that capital was about 300 miles, I knew that, but it did not discourage me, I might walk ten leagues, that is, thirty miles a day, and reach my destination in ten days, for that purpose I thought that my funds were amply sufficient, but I soon found I was mistaken. I set out gay as a lark, satis- fied with the present, and careless of the future. I sang all the way as I went along, and to improve my little knowledge of music, I sang all the airs that I was acquainted with in all the modulations of the gammut [sic], calling the notes by their names. I proceeded in that way without any thing remarkable happening to me, until I reached the city of Tours, the capital of Touraine, and there my adventures began. I have no recollection whatever of the places through which I passed, or the manner in which I spent my money. All I know is that the dinner I ate at Tours, found the bottom of my purse, and that after paying the landlord's bill, I was left without a single penny. You will hardly believe that this descovery did not interrupt my gaiety. I was waited upon at table by a very pretty girl, I amused myself by trifling with her. I asked her jocularly, whether she would go to Paris with me. She answered, as I thought, with great wisdom, "a£es Tourangeaudes sonts fakes four les cTourangeaux" The females of Touraine are made for their countrymen! To this answer there was no reply. I did not begin to reflect until after I had left the inn, when my situation appeared fully before my eyes. Yet I was not discouraged. I was full of romantic ideas. I ex- pected that some great lord or some fair lady would take pity on me, and that I would become the subject of some adventure, such as I had read in novels and romances. You see that I had not a slight opinion of my little person. I continued my walk, until I reached a village, about one league from Tours called J^a %oche Qorbon. It is the most abominable place that I ever saw. Night had come on, and I did not know where to go; I entered a kind of tavern, or rather a tip- pling house where I found a number of peasants drinking and playing i94o NOTES AND DOCUMENTS 253 cards. I asked them whether they were playing whist, which in French is pronounced wisk. They had never heard the name, and it excited a general laugh. "Wisk, wisk, wisk" was repeated round the room, which put them all in excellent humour. They made me drink with them, and every thing passed on well until the hour came for retiring, when I did not know what to do. Fortunately I had been observed by a poor young man, a journeyman blacksmith, who had suspected, or guessed at my situation. He frankly offered me to share his bed for the night, which I thankfully accepted. He took me with him to a miserable house, where, in a miserable room, we slept together, on a miserable bed. In the morning, he made me partake of his poor break- fast of brown bread and cheese. After which we parted with kind feelings for each other. After leaving the wretched hut, I resumed my march, still careless of the future. In passing through the village, I met with an adventure which threatened my liberty, and the destruction of all my schemes. I was arrested by a man, who, I suppose, was a kind of constable, and was soon surrounded by a group of the inhabitants. I was questioned on the object and motives of my journey. I do not remembered [sic] what I answered, but it soon appeared to them that I was a young fugitive running away from his parents or his friends. A consultation was held, and severe measures were going to be taken, when I ha- rangued them, and I do not know how it happened, but their hearts were so much softened, that they invited me to remain among them, and to accept of the place of the village schoolmaster which was then vacant. I delicately declined the offer, and only begged of them to per- mit me to proceed on my journey which, to my great joy, they granted. Here I had a narrow escape, for, in strict justice, they ought to have confined me, and written to my parents. The consequence can be easily anticipated. You are asking me a great many questions which shew the interest that you take in my juvenile adventures, but which I regret that I cannot answer to your satisfaction. Nearly seventy years have elapsed since the journey took place, the incidents of which I am relating to you. Of those incidents my memory has pre- served none but those which, at the time, made a strong impression upon my mind, all the rest I have entirely forgotten. For instance, besides what I have already told you, I remember nothing of what 254 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS April happened on the road between Bressuire and the city of Tours except that when I had walked a few leagues from the former place on the day of my departure I entered a farm house on the roadside to rest and refresh myself, and there I was regaled with a porringer of excellent clouted cream, with a slice of good barley bread, on which I spread the thick cream with great delight. The French are very fond of milk in its various forms, which they call laitage. Every farmer who can afford to keep a cow, has always a provision of milk, cream, butter- milk, curds &c. which he sells for a trifle to every person who chooses to go in and refresh himself. When I lived at Paris, I used frequently to walk out into the country to enjoy that kind of refreshment, which is not to be obtained in large cities. This is all that I recollect of that part of my journey, all the rest is to my mind a perfect blank. I cannot recollect when, or where, I ate; drank, or slept on the road, nor how many days I employed in travelling that distance. Of distances I am unable to speak with accuracy: I was told at Bressuire that the distance to Paris was iOO leagues, and I have never taken pains to ascer- tain it. It is after all of little consequence. From La Roche Corbon, I proceeded towards Blois, which is the next place of which I have any remembrance. To satisfy your curiosity I have looked into books to find the distance between that city and Tours; some said ten, and others seventeen leagues, which makes a great difference. The least number being equal to thirty, and the greatest to 51 miles. To walk either of those distances must have taken me more than one day, perhaps two, or two and a half, and during that time I must have eaten, drunk and slept somewhere, while I had not a single penny in my pocket. I have in vain tasked my memory to remember what I did, and what happened to me during that time. There is not a trace of it upon my mind. I remember, only, finding myself about the middle of the day in the city of Blois, and do not recollect whether at that moment I felt either hunger or thirst, in other respects my recollection is very clear. I walked for several hours up and down the town, observing the churches and other objects as I passed. The place appeared to me like the city of Quebec, full of Ascents and de- scents, at least such is the impression that I have retained. In the after- noon I went to the principal promenade where I saw many gentlemen and ladies but no fair princess or freux chevalier} took notice of me, or i94o NOTES AND DOCUMENTS 2J5 offered to come to my assistance. At last the night came and I perfectly recollect, that my spirits which till then I had kept up, began to be very much depressed, and in fact I was driven to dispair. I walked out of the city, pursuing my march towards Paris, and not knowing what else to do, I determined to walk on, until I should be over- powered by fatigue, and then to lie down on the road side, and submit to my fate. I addressed fervent prayer to the Almighty, filled my mind with reliance upon Providence, and in that reliance I was not deceived. In that state of mind I had walked to the distance, perhaps, of one mile, or less from the city of Blois, when I heard a loud voice calling out to me in latin, "Tu quis es?" "who are you?" It was dark, and I saw nobody. I immediately answered in the same language "6go sum nebulo" "I am a blackguard." I meant only to express in Latin the French word folissony which means an idley vagrant, boy. The same terrible voice replied "Veni, veni mecum, ego quoque fui nebulo in juventute mea," come, come along with me, I also was a polisson in my younger days." He then took me by the arm, and dragged me along, and you may well believe, that I made no resistance. He was a poor bushel-maker (the French word boisselier) who resided in Blois and was returning from that city. He had the mania of speaking Latin, and we spoke no other language as we went along. We arrived at his house late at night. I do not at all remember what passed in the evening, or on the ensuing morning. All that I know is that I slept in the house, and that the next day I dined with the family, which consisted of his wife, and a daughter about 18 years of age. What a poor dinner we had! It consisted of a dish of boiled herrings, and a loaf of brown bread. There was also on the table a bottle of vin de fays which, perhaps, was brought out on my account. They were really a poor family, and every thing in the house witnessed their situation. But charity loves to dwell, and is as often found, in the hut of the poor, as in the palace of the rich. I will not pursue further the comparison. During the whole time that we were together, even at the dinner table, the good bushel-maker spoke no language but Latin to me, for which his family sometimes bantered him, and I answered him of course in the same language. After he [sic] dinner he told me that he 256 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS April would accompany me out of the town, and leave me when I should be fairly on the road, which he did, and we went out together spouting Latin all the way, and when arrived at the place of parting, he took Cl yy leave of me with the single word valey farewell, and putting in my hand a French crown of the value of something more than [a] dollar, he walked off rapidly unwilling to receive thanks. I never shall forget that good that excellent man that real Christian. I do not remember his name, perhaps, I have never known it. But his goodness, his benevolence, his charity have made such an impression upon my mind as shall never be effaced. I have never seen, nor heard of him since. With a broad piece in my pocket, I pursued, full of spirits, my way to the great capital. I remember nothing of that part of my journey except what I am going to relate. From Blois I proceeded to Orleans, the next considerable town on my way to the great city. I had advanced three fourths, perhaps, or more on that way, when a young man suddenly appeared before me soliciting my assistance. He was going on foot like me to some distant place which I dot [sic] remember. He appeared in the greatest dis- tress, and shed tears in abundance. His tale was so moving that my feelings were excited to the highest pitch. But my situation was as lamentable as his. Of the money given me by the good bushel maker I had only half-a-crown, and some change remaining but my feelings were roused, and I did not allow myself time to reflect. Moved by a sudden impulse, I put my hand into my pocket, took out the half crown, and gave it to the poor man, who returned me a thousand bless- ings. It was undoubtedly an imprudent act, which I was not long without repenting. But I felt that I had done a good action j I again relied upon Providence, and Providence again came to my aid. I had hardly proceeded two or three miles farther when I heard myself called by my name; and another young man came up to me, saying, "Don't you know me? I am le petit orfevre (the little gold- smith) who was with you at the Benedictine college at St. Jean d'An- gely. I am going to Paris to be married, and if you are going the same way we shall travel together." I did not remember him at all, because we had not been in the same class, but I did not shew it. We entered into conversation together in the course of which I was obliged to confess to him my destitute situation. "Never mind," said he, "I am going i94o NOTES AND DOCUMENTS 257 to be married, and I am glad to have you for a compagnon de voyage. I shall defray your expenses to Paris, and you need not trouble yourself about it." He kept his word; We slept that night at Orleans, and performed the rest of the journey cheerfully together. On our entering Paris, he left me with a cordial adieu, took his way, and I mine. I have never seen or heard of him since. He, no doubt, told me his name, but I have forgotten it. His memory, however, shall never be forgotten, and I shall always remember him with feelings of grati- tude. We are now arrived at Paris, after a long and eventful journey. It is time that we should take some rest, therefore, I bid you Adieu

Philadelphia Feb 15th 1844 It was night when my companion and I entered the city of Paris. The weather was cold and damp, and the ground covered with snow. The great Hospital called the Hotel Dieu was on fire, and the flames could be seen at a great distance. The police men were picking up every man that they found walking the streets in order to aid in ex- tinguishing the fire. I was picked up by one of them, and with difficulty escaped by pleading my weariness which was sufficiently evident. The change which I had yet in my pocket, procured me a night's lodging, and the next morning, I repaired to Versailles, which is at the distance of 12 miles from the capital. I have related in a former letter,87 what happened to me, in that royal residence, and I have not much to add to it. There is, however, an anecdote which I have omitted, from what I think a very ill-placed mauvaise honte and which I must relate to you, for you should know all my benefactors whether princes or bushel makers, and there is no more humiliation in receiving charity from the one class, than from the other. In one of my letters to Mr. W. I said that on my arrival at Versailles, I waited on the Baron de Montmorency, who was acquainted with my family. The Montmorencies are one of the oldest families in France and, perhaps, in Europe. They are celebrated in History. They will not accept of any higher title than that of Barony because they claim to be descended from the first baron in Christen-

87 PENNSYLVANIA MAGAZINE OF HISTORY AND BIOGRAPHY, April, 1939, p. 197. 258 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS April dom,88 and the motto on their arms is: T>ieu aide au fremier "Baron Chretien. The Baron, as I have said before, received me very kindly, he made me some remonstrances on the rashness of my conduct, but as the thing was done, he said, that I must make the best of it, and he promised me his patronage. I have mentioned before the foolish act by which I made it of little value to me. He desired me to attend on the next day at the public dinner of the Princess Adelaide, one of the King's aunts. The royal family at that time, frequently took their meals in public, either together en famille or singly as best suited them. Gentlemen were admitted to be present at those meals, they stood in silence at a respectful distance from the table. Sometimes when an unknown face appeared, the King, or some prince, would send a person to him to know who he was, but that led to no consequence. A curious anecdote is related which is said to have happened at one of the royal dinners. A gentleman known to the King was standing with the rest of the spectators, and was looking wistfully at a golden dish containing partridges, which was upon the table. The King observing him, told one of his officers to give that dish to the gentleman. The officer went to him and said, "Sir, the King has ordered me to give you that dish," pointing to it "which you see upon the table" The gentleman answered, "What, Sir, and the partridges too?" This being related to the King, he good naturedly said "Yes, and the partridges too," so that the gentleman had both. I do not vouch, however, for the truth of this story. The next day I prepared to follow my patron's directions, without knowing or even suspecting what might be the result of it. I borrowed clothes, and a sword in order to appear decently, and I went to the princely dinner as directed. I was admitted without difficulty, and took my place standing with the rest. The princess was at table, whether alone or with some other person of her family, I do not recollect. The baron who was her Chevalier d'honneur stood near her, at some distance from the table. On the other side, stood an officer whom I took to be an Equerry. I had not been long in the room, when I observed the baron whisper something to the princess, and she to the equerry. But it made no particular impression upon me. A 88 A number of this family held higher rank than that of baron. Du Ponceau's statement is, therefore, not quite clear. The province mentioned was that of Aunis. i94o NOTES AND DOCUMENTS 259 little while after, the equerry came up to me, and put into my hands ten Louis d'or loosely wrapt up in a piece of paper. I was so surprised, that I let the parcel fall, and the pieces rolled upon the floor, to my inexpressible confusion and shame. The gentlemen present picked up the money and in the most delicate manner, returned it to me. I hardly knew whether I stood upon my head or my feet, I left the room immediately and flew to my lodgings. That money was of great use to me, for it renewed my wardrobe which was in great need of it. The good Princess left France at the beginning of the revolution, and went to Rome where she died. She was a pious woman and I have never heard her spoken of for any thing but her good actions. When she left France she was cruelly abused by one Gorsas,89 the editor of a newspaper who, having nothing else to re- proach her with, charged her with theft for carrying away her own chemiseSy which, he said, belonged to the nation. He was much bantered for it, in the royalist publications of that time, and he suffered much more severely for his cruel behaviour to an unfortunate and innocent woman, by the terrible punishment of the guillotine which he underwent in 1793. I did not stay long in Versailles, but repaired to Paris, where I found myself perfectly independent as I wished to be. I earned my living principally by translating English works at so much per sheet for professed translators who made a profit out of my labours. I remember that one of them gave me Sterne's sermons to translate. I translated the first sermon and took the manuscript to my employer, who upon reading it said, that there was not a country parson in all France who could not write a better one. That was nationality with a witness. I wonder what he would have said, if, instead of the first, I had translated the second sermon, beginning with the famous "That I deny.ym There was here real and just ground for severe criticism. The 80 Antoine-Joseph Gorsas (1751-1793) was a native of Limoges and publisher in 1789 of Le Courrier de Versailles. He was a violent opponent of the royalist party, one of the leaders, in fact, of the march on Versailles. He was shocked, however, at such extremes as the prison massacres and was eventually guillotined for his opposition to Marat, Danton, and Robespierre. 00 Laurence Sterne (1713-1768), the noted author of Tristram Shandy and A Senti- mental Journey. Among his many published sermons is "The House of Feasting and the House of Mourning Described," which begins with the words quoted above. The sermon may be found in his collected works. 260 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS April Spanish author of Fray Qerundic?1 has done justice to that ridiculous, nay impious mode of preaching the word of God. I also translated for men of business commercial letters, and gave some lessons of the English and French languages. In the meantime I kept up a social intercourse with men of letters and other respectable persons, I had several invitations from notaries, Attorneys, and other mem- bers of the legal profession to be a clerk in their offices, but I refused them all. I was also invited by a religious congregation called les Teres de I'Oratoire?2 to enter into their Institution. They were a rich and learned ecclesiastical association, but not bound by monastic vows. From that society came out several of the most distinguished characters in the French revolution, and particularly the notorious Fouche,93 afterwards Duke of Otranto. Had I accepted the offers which were made to me, I would, probably, have become acquainted with that dangerous personage. Providence saved me from the perils to which I might have been exposed. The Fathers offered to employ me as a teacher of languages, at a celebrated college, which they had at Tournon in the south of France, but I peremptorily refused. I could not subscribe to the superstitions of the Catholic church. I considered them hostile to true religion. Superstition and religion are, in my opinion, very different things. Superstition is a parasite plant; it grows on religion like the mistletoe on the oak. Happy those who cling to the tree, and do not mistake the excrescences for the substance. I persevered in my puritanical opinions. I attended divine service at the Chapel of the Dutch Ambassador where it was performed in the French language. The exercise of the reformed religion, properly so called, was not permitted any where else. I do not recollect when or how, I became acquainted with my excellent friend Cours [sic] de Gebelin, whose secretary I was when 91 This is evidently the music drama, Fray Gerundto Tirabeque y Fray Liberto, libretto by Juan de Alba and music by J. Viana. 92 This is a religious order founded in 1611 by Pierre de Berulle. During its period of popularity it contained many distinguished figures, among whom were Malebranche, Fontaine, Turenne, Mascaron, Massilon, and Daunou. It gradually lost its religious character in the 18th century and became more of an educational group. It was suppressed in 1790 by the Revolution and was not revived until 1852. 93 Joseph Fouche (1763-1820), Napoleon's famous Minister of Police. At one time he became a lay professor in the order, since it was difficult to fill all the vacancies in Jesuit institutions, to which the Oratorians had fallen heir. 1940 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS 261 I left France to come to this country. I believe I remained with him six or eight months. He was a Protestant minister born in France, but was ordained and officiated as minister of the Gospel at Lausanne in Switzerland. I do not know what circumstances brought him back to his native country,94 where he ran great risk if the law had been rigorously enforced, which was not the case as the government shut their eyes, provided the protestant ministers, abstained from their functions. M. de Gebelin resided in Paris as a private citizen, and de- voted himself to the philological science, in which he acquired an immense reputation. He was in the zenith of his fame when I became his secretary. He was an excellent man, and I cannot but remember with pleasure, the time that I spent with him. He was to me as a father, and when I made known to him my engagement with Baron Steuben, and my determination to come to this country, he did all in his power to persuade me to remain with him, and even offered to let my name appear with his on the title-page of his great work. But though I sincerely loved him, and admired his talents, I did not agree with him in his philological opinions. He was endeavouring to find the primitive language, which I considered as impossible. I parted from him with regret, but fate had determined that I should become an American. I corresponded with him until his death which happened on the 13th May 1784. He died a victim to his confidence in the Charlatan Mesmer.95 Here ends all I have to say to you of the adventures of what I call my first youth, that is from the time of my birth to that of my arrival in the United States when my second youth begins. Let us, therefore, cross the Sea in haste, and return to Philadelphia, where I left you, when, to satisfy your curiosity, I began this long and tedious episode. Adieu

Philadelphia March Ist. 1844 The ugly month of February is gone, not to return until after the expiration of another year. Old winter with his snow capped head, and ice shod feet, is fast receding from our shores. Three weeks more, 94 According to Biographie Generale (XII. 218) he went to Paris to find the necessary aid for his literary efforts and to plead more effectively for religious toleration. 95Antoine Mesmer (1733-1815), author of the doctrine of animal magnetism, the re- lationship between the animal body and the actions of heavenly and earthly bodies. 262 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS April only three weeks, and the glorious sun emerging from the oozy man- sions of the Fishes, and mounted on a splendid ram, will introduce to us the youthful spring, leading by the hand his sister Flora, accompanied by a crowd of her lovely nymphs in the various forms of hya- cinths, jonquils, daffodils, violets, daisies, lilies of the valley, and the lovely primroses. Primroses! I love that word3 it reminds me of the poor primrose girl whose simple ditty in my younger days I sang with so much pleasure, as it was coupled with the remembrance of her, from whose lips I first heard it sung: I live by primroses Come buy my primroses Who'll buy my primroses? Who'll buy, who'll buy? But enough of those by gone times. Three months more, and the roses will appear. You know that I was born in the season of roses. On every return of that enchanting season, I reckon one year added to my frail existence, and I ask myself the question, shall I see the roses once more? That depends on the will of divine Providence, yet hope is not forbidden us, I yet hope at the end of the ensuing three months to see the roses again, and to present you on the 3rd June with a fine bouquet of the queen of flowers. Pray join me in saying Amen! I feel too romantic to day to go on with my narrative. We are just returned from our long voyage to France, and we must take some rest. Adieu then for the present.

Philadelphia March 5th. 1844 We have made a long and fatiguing voyage to France, through France, and back again to the United States across the wide Atlantic Ocean. Since our return we have rested only four days, and I have not yet recruited my strength. I am tired, and do not know where to begin. When we left the United States, I had related the adventures of four years of my military life, with marches, counter marches, and all the variety of incidents which accompanied that mode of existence. We had arrived to the period between the years 1781 and 1783, when I had the honour to fill an important office in the department of foreign affairs. I am not willing to retrace the adventures which I have already related, but I am not yet prepared to take a great jump from the sea shore where I landed to the city of Philadelphia. Let us see then 1940 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS 263 whether a short stay at Boston, will not procure us some amusement until I can collect my ideas so as to resume the long suspended course of my narrative. I have said in one of my former letters, that shortly after our arrival at Portsmouth in New Hampshire, we staid some time at Boston to recruit ourselves from the fatigues of our voyage. We lodged as boarders at the house of a Mrs. Downe, the widow of a British officer, a respectable lady, with two beautiful and amiable daughters, the oldest Miss Betsy, about 19, and the youngest Miss Sally 16 years of age. There were no other boarders in the house but Baron Steuben and his family, and we were kindly and hospitably treated. The bill at parting was very moderate, but there were two items in it which excited the anger of the good Baron, and made him ejaculate more than once, diable! diable! and Tertifle! The first of these charges was "to a dog," which, in my opinion was a very just, and correct one. The Baron had brought with him his favourite dog Azor, a fine large Italian grey hound, who ate as much as any one of us. Why the charge was objected to, I cannot well conceive; it is probable that in Ger- many dogs go every where scot free. The other charge was rather ex- traordinary, but under the circumstances a very just one. It was "to trouble." I cannot recollect how much the charge amounted to, but it appeared to me very moderate. Only fancy to yourself an old Ger- man Baron, with a large brilliant star on his breast, a German servant attending him, and three French aid-de-camps, and a large spoiled Italian dog. None of all that company could speak a word of English except your grandfather, who was not a grave old man, as he is at present, but loved his share of fun when it went round. We gave trouble enough to the good lady, and though I see in her charge much naivetey I cannot perceive in it a symptom of avarice. As [sic] she had a little of what is, I do not know why, called Yankee cunningy she would have dropped these charges, and obtained her end by swelling a little, the more usual ones. I have said that we were three aids with Baron Steuben. One of them was De Pontiere, who after we joined the army, obtained the commission of a captain of horse, and entered into Pulaski's legion 3 at the end of the war he returned to France. The other was Des Epin- iers, a son or a nephew of the famous watch maker Lepine of Paris. He had changed his name to Des Epiniers, to give it an appearance of 264 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS April gentility. How, when or where we parted with him, and what afterwards became of him, I have, in vain, tried to recollect. I cannot find it in any one of the cells of my memory. I can remember but few epochs of my life in which I enjoyed so much happiness, as I did during the month that I remained at Boston. I was charmed with the sim- plicity of manners, which, at that time, reigned in this country. I was 17 years of age, and my mind was open to all pleasureable impressions. Shall I say that the beauty of the fair sex, to which I hardly saw an ex- ception, did not a little contribute to it? In Mrs. Downe's family to which came frequently female visitors, I was fully gratified in this respect, and I assure you I did not fail to take advantage of my fortu- nate situation, being the only person in our company who could speak the language of the country 3 I interpreted it is true as in duty bound, between the Baron and the old lady, and transmitted sometimes a few compliments from him to the young ones, but I left my brother beaux to shift for themselves. There they stood, or sat like Indians, and could talk only by signs. But the ladies had not studied Hieroglyphics, and I had the field all to myself. O! those were delightful times! The ladies were fond of singing, and I learned from them many songs, which yet, at this moment, are amongst my most pleasing recol- lections. I need not say that one of them was the famous Yankee Doodle of which nothing remains at present but the air, with here and there a few stanzas composed at different times which have no connexion with each other, and not let us into the origin of the song. But I heard it sung at Boston as it was originally composed, and the two first stanzas of it which I shall give you presently let us into its whole history. This song was not composed in honor of the Yankee nation, but, on the contrary, it was indicted by some British officer in the war 1756 in order to turn the American militia into ridicule.96 The jealousy of the British, and their affected contempt of the Americans appear to have begun long before we separated from them. Of this, the two stanzas I have mentioned, will easily convince you, and here they are: 96 The words, as Du Ponceau suggests, were written in 1755 by Dr. Richard Shuckburg, a British army surgeon, to cast ridicule on the colonial soldiers with whom the British were associated. The tune is probably an old one, "Nankee Doodle," dating from Cromwell's time. An account of the song may be read in C. A. Browne, The Story of Our National Ballads, New York, 1919, pages 1 to 29. 1940 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS 265

I. Yankee Doodle came to town, To better his condition, He sold all his cows and calves For to buy a commission, Yankee Doodle, Doodle Doo, Yankee Doodle dandy.

2. But when commission he had got, He proved a great coward, He durst not go to Canada, For fear of being devoured, Yankee Doodle &c.

There can be no doubt that this song was composed during the Canadian war, and in derision of the American militia. Military com- missions were never bought or sold in this country, except while under the British government. Yankee Doodle could not, therefore, have purchased a commission since we became independent, and the allu- sion to Canada points to the period, when the song was made. So far it might be considered as a jocular effusion which indicated no malice. But the imputation of cowardice at the close of the second stanza shews a rooted antipathy which was to produce bitter fruits. That cowardly militia had a Washington among them and other heroes, who shewed that they were not to be despised. It was about that time that the British nation began to affect to despise those whom they hated or feared. After the peace of 1763, the paroxysm was at its height. The French became the object of their unmanly abuse. Drunk with their successes, dulci fortuna ebriiy they forgot that war is an uncertain game, and that its chances are variable. They set up a loud crowing which was heard through all Europe. Magnanimity would have induced them to exalt the people over whom they had so signally triumphed. It was glorious to triumph over a great, and a brave nation, but there was no honour in conquer- ing a people of Lilliputians. And yet such was the light in which they chose to represent to the world their late enemies the French. Their literature of that time teems with those representations. Their best writers, their most eminent poets, did not disdain to join in the cry. France, according to them, was a poor, miserable nation, they were less than men. On this the changes were rang [sic], in almost all their 266 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS April publications. JuvenaPs satire against the unfortunate Greeks, was imitated with additional rancour, and vulgar obscenity. The great painter Hogarth, prostituted his inimitable pencil to the disgraceful theme, by his picture of the gate of Calais, which gave rise to a popular song not yet forgotten.97 I do not mean here to charge with want of magnanimity the general character of the illustrious British nation. It was a temporary phrenzy, an epidemic disease, like the sweating sickness of former times, and the yellow fever sometimes among us. History shews us that country in a very different point of view. In the reign of Elizabeth she did not affect to despise her Spanish enemies; in the reign of Victoria we see her in close alliance with the same nation which in a former reign she seemed to tread under her feet. It is, therefore, but doing her justice to allow her the praise of magnanimity. I do not know how it happened, but it is certain that the tremendous cock-a-doodle doo which I have just noticed, did not reach my ears while I remained in France. It was in the United States that I learned that an Englishman could beat three Frenchman [sic] j that the French were a poor, meagre, puny, little, dark coloured, and almost dwarfish nation; that they fed on soup-maigre and frogs; that they wore wooden shoes and ruffles without shirts, to which popery and Slavery being added the French nation was represented as sufficiently contemptible. The English had taken great pains to instil these foolish notions into the minds of the Colonists. When the revolution took place, they were not entirely weaned from them. They were, therefore, surprised when Frenchmen appeared among them, to find them so different from the idea which they had been taught to form of that people. I was often complimented with the observation that I did not look like a Frenchman, but like an American, by which, I, of course, was very much flattered, but did not understand its full meaning, until I was gradually informed of the prejudices, which the Americans had im- bibed from the mother country. I must acknowledge that I was simple 97 This is an engraving known also as "O the Roast Beef of Old England" (March 6, 1749). The bitter satire of this engraving, then, shows that his bias against the French had developed long before Du Ponceau suspected. The engraving and an explanation may be seen on page 150 of The Complete Works of William Hogarth, With an Introductory Essay by James Hannay, London and New York, fn.d.]. The song is probably "The Roast Beef of Old England" with verses by Henry Fielding and Richard Leveridge. The music is by Leveridge. 1940 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS 267 enough to suffer my feelings to be affected by them. I could not bear the idea of being considered as belonging to an inferior race of men. However, as I really loved the people, among whom I was cast, and who laughed with me at those caricatures, they did not diminish my attachment to this country, but my Anglomania suffered exceedingly from it. My admiration of the great masters of English literature still remained, but in other respects, I joined heart and hand in the Anti-Anglican feeling of the people of the United States. But I must leave this ridiculous subject. As I have spoken of wooden shoes, I will conclude this letter with a curious piece of gene- alogy which will show that that kind of Qhaussure (which I think very comfortable, and which after all, is preferable for a labouring peasantry to going bare-footed) is not so contemptible as might be imag- ined, since it is the origin of one of the greatest and noblest families of the English peerage, I mean the Talbots, Earls of Shrewsbury, who, I presume are still, at present, the happy possessors of

. . . Cliveden's proud alcove, The grove of wanton Shrewsbury and love. In the western provinces of France, particularly in Poitu, Annis, and Saint-Onge, (including the Isle of Re, wooden shoes are gener- ally worn by the peasantry. They are called in French Sabotsy and in those provinces by contraction bots. The makers of that kind of shoes, are called Taille-bots from tailler (to cut). Thence Taille-bot or Talbot is a very common name in those parts. I happen to have in my library a collection of Noels Poite-Vins printed at Niort in 1819, in which the name of Talbot appears. In some editions it is printed 7'aille-bot. The shepherds are organising a dance in honour of the birth of our saviour, and pairing themselves with each other for that purpose. The leader of the band names those who are to dance together, and arranges the different pairs. Now you may copy from the book the arrangement that he makes:

Je prendrai Guillemette, Margot, tu prendras gros Guillot; Qui prendra Peronnelle? Ce sera Talbot. I have no doubt that the great family of Shrewsbury draws its origin from an ancestor of those Taille-bots or Talbots. And, therefore, I 268 NOTES AND DOCUMENTS April have reason to believe that if this fact were known in England, wooden shoes would be held there in greater honour than they have hitherto been. Indeed, I am of opinion that it would be a greater benefit to the poor peasantry of Ireland to introduce that comfortable chaussure among them. But I must put an end to this already too long letter. Adieu

Philadelphia March 9th. 1844 Farewell, dear Boston, for no more, With pleasure shall I see Thy stately domes, thy lofty towers, So pleasing unto to me. I read these lines in an Almanac a few days after my arrival at Boston in 1777.1 remembered them, a month afterwards when I left that town to join the American army. And now after lapse of 66 years they are still fresh in my memory, and I address to that much loved place the same melancholy farewell. I leave Boston with regret, but we must make haste to our own not less cherished city. Our retrogate voyage has already been too long, and we must put an end to it. We have tarried long in Boston, and I am not sorry for it. The remembrance of New England will always be dear to me. It is the place where my feet first trod the American soil, and where my first impressions of this country were received. It has treated me kindly and hospitably. It has loaded me with hon- ours far beyond my feeble deserts. To it I am indebted for the amiable partner with whom I first experienced the happiness of conjugal life, I mean your sainted grand-mother.98 In that part of our country, and particularly in Boston, I have many valuable friends to whom I am sincerely attached. Among them the excellent John Pickering" holds the first place. I love him as Cicero loved his Atticus, and old Mon- taigne his Raymond de Sebonde. Nature seems to have cast us both in the same mould. Our friendship created by mutual sympathy, has lasted very long, and I hope will continue till I die. But I do not yet 98 He married Anne Perry on May 21, 1788. She is rarely ever mentioned, strangely enough, in any of the accounts of Du Ponceau or in his own letters. 99 See Note 5 in PENNSYLVANIA MAGAZINE OF HISTORY AND BIOGRAPHY, April, 1939, page 192. 194© NOTES AND DOCUMENTS 269 take leave of himj I hope to see him in May or June next as he has promised. In the meantime God bless him. After Pennsylvania, New England; and after Philadelphia, Bos- ton, are the places where my affections chiefly rest. I do not expect to see them again. In my next letter we shall be in Philadelphia, and, therefore, Boston, New England, and, for the present, you, my dear Secretary, I bid you farewell.100

100 j)u Ponceau died April 1, 1844. It is obvious that he did not return, as he had promised, to his task. His roses bloomed that June without him. The End