epublican to see upon the bayonets of each of our brave republicans the
children of traitors, or their, heads. According to the lowest
calculation, I have despatched, within three months, two hundred thousand
individuals of both sexes, and of all ages. Vive la Republique!!!" In
the works of Prudhomme and our republican writers, are inserted hundreds
of letters, still more cruelly extravagant, from this ci-devant friend of
Liberty and Equality, and at present faithful subject, and grand officer
of the Legion of Honour, of His Imperial Majesty Napoleon the First.

After the death of Robespierre, Turreaux, then a governor at Belleisle,
was arrested as a terrorist, and shut up at Du Plessis until the general
amnesty released him in 1795. During his imprisonment he amused himself
with writing memoirs of the war of La Vendee, in which he tried to prove
that all his barbarities had been perpetrated for the sake of humanity,
and to save the lives of republicans. He had also the modesty to
announce that, as a military work, his production would be equally
interesting as those of a Folard and Guibert. These memoirs, however,
proved nothing but that he was equally ignorant and wicked, presumptuous
and ferocious.

During the reign of the Directory he was rather discarded, or only
employed as a kind of recruiting officer to hunt young conscripts, but in
1800 Bonaparte gave him a command in the army of reserve; and in 1802,
another in the army of the interior. He then became one of the most
assiduous and cringing courtiers at the Emperor's levies; while in the
Empress's drawing-room he assumed his former air and ton of a chevalier,
in hopes of imposing upon those who did not remember the nickname which
his soldiers gave him ten years before, of Chevalier of the Guillotine.

At a ball of the Bonaparte family to which he was invited, the Emperor
took the fancy to dance with his stepdaughter, Madame Louis. He,
therefore, unhooked his sword, which he handed to a young colonel, D'
Avry, standing by his side. This colonel, who had been a page at the
Court of Louis XVI., knew that it would have been against etiquette, and
even unbecoming of him, to act as a valet to Napoleon while there were
valets in the room; he therefore retreated, looking round for a servant.
"Oh!" said the Emperor, "I see that I am mistaken; here, generals,"
continued he (addressing himself to half a dozen, with whose independent
principles and good breeding he was ac