PERE LA CHAISE . 33
PERE LA CHAISE .
TOWARDS the extremity of that side which is opposite to Vincennes there is a grove , the plantation of which beautifully shades the monu- ments . All is romantic about this grove : the very tombstones , seen from the plain , appear like so many spirits or supernatural beings , warning the present generation to prepare soon to take their places among the dead . Every thing in this sacred spot furnishes useful and awful lessons . When we look to the distant prospect , and see the labourer sowing his seed , which will soon , in course , spring up , we have an emblem of the fate that awaits us after we have been consigned to the tomb . On the ap- pearance of spring , when we see the surrounding fields covered with a fine verdure , how strik- ingly it conveys to us the idea , that the Almighty has power to give life to the cold clay that sur- rounds us ! On the evening of a fine day , when the setting sun is quitting this hemisphere , leav- ing in its track a long ray of light , the reflections of which are for some time afterwards enjoyed upon earth , we are reminded of the last mo- ments of the good man , resplendent in the lus- tre of the most exalted virtues , launching into his eternal abode , happy in the remembrance of every good action , and brilliant in his example to succeeding generations . After a stormy and dreary day , during which the sun has been con- stantly obscured by clouds , and is concealed before evening , by those black masses which at length usher in the darkest night , succeeding to a gloomy and uncertain day , what a lively image does this pourtray of the fate that awaits the wicked!
Occupied with these thoughts, we naturally begin to reflect when we also shall cease to live . A cloud appears , a gust of wind violently drives it along , and its passing shadow warns us of the rapid course of our lives . Can we still doubt the proximity of our last hour ? Do we still hope , that lengthened old age , will infallibly crown a long life ? Let us approach the tombstones , and there read a lesson from the epitaphs . Shall the fate of man be different from what the fate of man has been ? What is the inscription we see engraved on that stone which stands on the rising ground to the right of the entrance of the grove ? Does it record the death of some venerable man who has long been warned of its approach by his whitened locks and decaying frame ? Ah , no ! here rest the remains of a young mother who was torn from her family in the early spring of life , and at a time when the age of her only child most required the mother's care , when she her- self constituted the sole happiness of her husband . Her last sighs were-
"Oh, my God! If it is thy pleasure that I should die, have pity on my husband and child."
"Jeanne Catherine Thiebault, beloved wife of Jean Julien Vie, died at the age of 23 years, on the 25th of April, 1820, in pronouncing the above words, which are engraven on the hearts of her inconsolable husband and relatives. "
Unthinking mortals ! death treads close upon our paths , and we know not the instant that he may arrest our course : yet we live tranquilly.
A short distance from this is the tomb of a young warrior , mowed down by the iron hand of war , in a far distant country . His mother , in losing him , saw her only hope and consolation in this life extinguished . Overwhelmed with grief , and not being able to pay the last duties to his obsequies , she erected here a funeral cenotaph , that there might be some spot on earth where she could publicly and solemnly pay respect to his memory , and alleviate in some measure the heavy affliction which had fallen upon her . In the principal part of the stone a bust of the young warrior is placed , encircled with a crown well furnished with oak and laurel . Underneath is this dedication , a little too ostentatious , perhaps ; but it is difficult to suit every class of warriors , if bravery alone constitute the hero-
"Sta viator , beroem vides . "
A carbine and sword reversed accompany this epitaph : -
" The homage of the most tender mother to the memory of the best and most unfortunate of sons . Antonie C. M. Guillaume de Grange , an only son , aged 25 years , subaltern in the 16th regiment of dragoons , died heroically on the field of battle , on the 4th of February , 1807 , in the deserts of Poland . "
Below this is a figure of a female shedding tears over an urn which she is holding ; this is Madame le Grange . Underneath is this inscrip- tion : -
" Oh , my dearly beloved son ! death alone can put an end to my grief . "
A small cresset , in which spices are burned , fills up the rest of the space on this side of the stone . On the opposite side is the following clegy : -
" MONUMENT ERECTED TO THE MEMORY OF THE BEST OF SONS AND KINDEST OF FRIENDS .
" Antoine C. M. de la Grange , an only son , subaltern in the 16th regiment of dragoons , died heroically on the field of battle , at the age of 25 years , a victim to his courage and bravery , regretted by his commanders , his friends , his com- rades , and generally by all who knew him . He was the offspring of the most ancient nobles of Limoges . His ances tors have served with distinction , and have filled honourable stations . After having signalized himself by his bravery at Austerlitz , Jena , Erfurth , Spandau , & c . he met his death in the frightful deserts of Poland , in the battle of the 4th Feb. 1807. It was in a dangerous pass , at the entrance of a vil- lage . A call was made for him who dared to attempt to pass first . He immediately replied , ' I am the man , ' and ad- vanced . At that moment a ball pierced his heart . His last words on the field of battle were , My mother! my poor mother! ' Oh , my dearly and well - beloved son, my best friend , my only good in this world 'twas thy valour, thy devotedness to thy country which deprived me of again seeing thee, and which was the only blessing I prayed for. Oh! thou so good, so kind, so sensible, never can I weep enough, nor equal my grief to thy deserts. Thou who possessed all the qualities of the mind and heart, receive the homage of thy unfortunate and inconsolable mother, whose grief can only cease with life. Beings kind and good, pity my fate . He well deserved to live, to be reunited to his
