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Updated: June 25, 2025
The absolute silence, save when "Mourir pour la Patrie" sounded hoarsely in the distance, was as strange as it was unexpected. I had always connected an insurrection with noise. It was rumored that Guizot the Unpopular had been dismissed, and that Count Mole, a man of half measures, had been called to the king's councils. The affair looked to me as if it were going to die out for want of fuel.
He was sitting in a window of the Manor, just after he had come from Montreal, playing a violin which had once belonged to De Casson, the famous priest whose athletic power and sweet spirit endeared him to New France. His fresh cheek was bent to the brown, delicate wood, and he was playing to his sister the air of the undying chanson, "Je vais mourir pour ma belle reine."
One after another came these strains which he had taken from the operas famous in their day, until at length the padre was murmuring to some music seldom long out of his heart not the Latin verse which the choir sang, but the original French words: "Ah, voile man envie, Voila mon seul desir: Rendez moi ma patrie, Ou laissez moi mourir."
"And in dying?" asked Sophie. "No, you must live. 'C'est le bonheur de vivre Qui fait la gloire de mourir." "You speak a deal of French to-day," said Otto, with a friendliness of manner intended to soften the bitterness of the tone. "Perhaps your conversation with the lieutenant was in that language?" "French interests me the most!" replied she. "I will ask our cousin to speak it often with me.
Desmond dared not follow, lest he make matters worse. Maurice sprang up from his seat in the pavilion, and stood transfixed, helpless. "Nom de Dieu . . . que faire? Elle va mourir!" he muttered with shaking lips: and Elsie, child as she was, yearned over him with all the tenderness and pity of inherent motherhood.
This writer adds that, when Frontenac heard of it, he ordered him to be spared; but it was too late. Charlevoix misquotes the old Stoic's last words, which were, according to the official Relation of 1695-6: "Je te remercie mais tu aurais bien du achever de me faire mourir par le feu.
Such was the miserable situation of that man, who, in the words of Augereau, "apres avoir immolé des millions des victimes, n'a su mourir en soldat;" and such the treatment of a French mob to one whose name, the moment before, they had extolled with all the symptoms of the most devoted enthusiasm. J'ai vu l'impie, adorè sur le terre Pareil au cedre, il cachoit dans le cieux Son front audacieux.
[Footnote 1: " tant qu'il n'y a coeur si dur, ni entendement d'homme qui n'y deust penser. 'Lasse, mon confort! m'amour et ma joye, que les Juifz ont faict mourir
During the ceremony of the inauguration, the "Marseillaise" was sung by the National Guard and the people, and, at its conclusion, about the hour of three, the troops filed off before the Column of July to the thrilling strains of the "Marseillaise" and the "Mourir Pour la Patrie" of the Girondins.
What is still more strange, he had been up to then invincibly indifferent to music, insomuch that he could not distinguish "God save the Queen" from "Bonnie Dundee"; and now, to the chanting of the mob, he amazed his family by learning and singing "Mourir pour la Patrie."
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