A Residence in France | Page 6

have
commanded in that revolution, and when the time came, I got into my
carriage, without a passport, and drove across the country to ----, where
I obtained post-horses, and proceeded as fast as possible towards ----.
At ----, a courier met me, with the unhappy intelligence that our plot
was discovered, and that several of our principal agents were arrested. I
was advised to push for the frontier, as fast as I could. But we turned
round in the road, and I went to Paris, and took my seat in the Chamber
of Deputies. They looked very queer, and a good deal surprised when
they saw me, and I believe they were in great hopes that I had run away.
The party of the ministers were loud in their accusations against the
opposition for encouraging treason, and Perier and Constant, and the
rest of them, made indignant appeals against such unjust accusations. I
took a different course. I went into the tribune, and invited the ministers
to come and give a history of my political life; of my changes and
treasons, as they called them; and said that when they had got through,
I would give the character and history of theirs. This settled the matter,
for I heard no more from them." I inquired if he had not felt afraid of
being arrested and tried. "Not much," was his answer. "They knew I

denied the right of foreigners to impose a government on France, and
they also knew they had not kept faith with France under the charter. I
made no secret of my principles, and frequently put letters unsealed
into the post office, in which I had used the plainest language about the
government. On the whole, I believe they were more afraid of me than I
was of them."
It is impossible to give an idea, in writing, of the pleasant manner he
has of relating these things--a manner that receives additional piquancy
from his English, which, though good, is necessarily broken. He
usually prefers the English in such conversations.
"By the way," he suddenly asked me, "where was the idea of Harvey
Birch, in the Spy, found?" I told him that the thought had been obtained
from an anecdote of the revolution, related to me by Governor Jay,
some years before the book was written. He laughingly remarked that
he could have supplied the hero of a romance, in the person of a negro
named Harry (I believe, though the name has escaped me), who acted
as a spy, both for him and Lord Cornwallis, during the time he
commanded against that officer in Virginia. This negro he represented
as being true to the American cause, and as properly belonging to his
service, though permitted occasionally to act for Lord Cornwallis, for
the sake of gaining intelligence. After the surrender of the latter, he
called on General Lafayette, to return a visit. Harry was in an anteroom
cleaning his master's boots, as Lord Cornwallis entered. "Ha! Master
Harry," exclaimed the latter, "you are here, are you?" "Oh, yes, masser
Cornwallis--muss try to do little for de country," was the answer. This
negro, he said, was singularly clever and bold, and of sterling
patriotism!
He made me laugh with a story, that he said the English officers had
told him of General Knyphausen, who commanded the Hessian
mercenaries, in 1776. This officer, a rigid martinet, knew nothing of the
sea, and not much more of geography. On the voyage between England
and America, he was in the ship of Lord Howe, where he passed
several uncomfortable weeks, the fleet having an unusually long
passage, on account of the bad sailing of some of the transports. At

length Knyphausen could contain himself no longer, but marching
stiffly up to the admiral one day, he commenced with--"My lord, I
know it is the duty of a soldier to be submissive at sea, but, being
entrusted with the care of the troops of His Serene Highness, my master,
I feel it my duty just to inquire, if it be not possible, that during some of
the dark nights, we have lately had, _we may have sailed past
America_?"
I asked him if he had been at the chateau lately. His reply was very
brief and expressive. "The king denies my account of the programme of
the Hôtel de Ville, and we stand in the position of two gentlemen, who,
in substance, have given each other the lie. Circumstances prevent our
going to the Bois de Boulogne to exchange shots," he added, smiling,
"but they also prevent our exchanging visits." I then ventured to say
that I had long foreseen what would be the result of the friendship of
Louis-Philippe, and, for the first time, in the course of our
conversations, I