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Updated: August 31, 2025
My chief talk with you will be to listen to you and to love you with all my heart. It is glorious. I embrace and bless you. G. Sand XXIV. TO GUSTAVE FLAUBERT Paris, 10 November, 1866 On reaching Paris I learn sad news. Last evening, while we were talking and I think that we spoke of him day before yesterday my friend Charles Duveyrier died, a most tender heart and a most naive spirit.
See, in this connection, Duveyrier: les Tuareg du Nord, page 292. "Ferradji," angrily demanded the little officer of the Department of Education, "why were these gentlemen brought into the library?" The Targa bowed respectfully. "Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh came back sooner than we expected," he replied, "and last night the embalmers had not yet finished.
It will be very French to enjoy the attitude of these children of the desert in the midst of this little party. "The train from Marseilles arrived at 10:20. On the platform I found M. Duveyrier, a young man of twenty-three with blue eyes and a little blond beard. The Tuareg fell into his arms as they descended from the train.
We were then starting on the part of the desert which Duveyrier calls the Tassili of the south, and which figures on the maps of the Minister of Public Works under this attractive title: "Rocky plateau, without water, without vegetation, inhospitable for man and beast." Nothing, unless parts of the Kalahari, is more frightful than this rocky desert.
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