- Louis Antoine Fauvelet de Bourr
1 Published Story
- Louis Antoine Fauvelet de Bourr's Book and Story
Memoirs of Napoleon Bonaparte
Young Adult The Memoirs of the time of Napoleon may be divided into two classes—those by marshals and officers, of which Suchet's is a good example, chiefly devoted to military movements, and those by persons employed in the administration and in the Court, giving us not only materials for history, but also valuable details of the personal and inner life of the great Emperor and of his immediate surroundings. Of this latter class the Memoirs of Bourrienne are among the most important. Long the intimate and personal friend of Napoleon both at school and from the end of the Italian campaigns in 1797 till 1802—working in the same room with him, using the same purse, the confidant of most of his schemes, and, as his secretary, having the largest part of all the official and private correspondence of the time passed through his hands, Bourrienne occupied an invaluable position for storing and recording materials for history. The Memoirs of his successor, Meneval, are more those of an esteemed private secretary; yet, valuable and interesting as they are, they want the peculiarity of position which marks those of Bourrienne, who was a compound of secretary, minister, and friend. The accounts of such men as Miot de Melito, Raederer, etc., are most valuable, but these writers were not in that close contact with Napoleon enjoyed by Bourrienne. Bourrienne's position was simply unique, and we can only regret that he did not occupy it till the end of the Empire. Thus it is natural that his Memoirs should have been largely used by historians, and to properly understand the history of the time, they must be read by all students. They are indeed full of interest for every one. But they also require to be read with great caution. When we meet with praise of Napoleon, we may generally believe it, for, as Thiers (Consulat., ii. 279) says, Bourrienne need be little suspected on this side, for although he owed everything to Napoleon, he has not seemed to remember it. But very often in passages in which blame is thrown on Napoleon, Bourrienne speaks, partly with much of the natural bitterness of a former and discarded friend, and partly with the curious mixed feeling which even the brothers of Napoleon display in their Memoirs, pride in the wonderful abilities evinced by the man with whom he was allied, and jealousy at the way in which he was outshone by the man he had in youth regarded as inferior to himself. Sometimes also we may even suspect the praise. Thus when Bourrienne defends Napoleon for giving, as he alleges, poison to the sick at Jaffa, a doubt arises whether his object was to really defend what to most Englishmen of this day, with remembrances of the deeds and resolutions of the Indian Mutiny, will seem an act to be pardoned, if not approved; or whether he was more anxious to fix the committal of the act on Napoleon at a time when public opinion loudly blamed it. The same may be said of his defence of the massacre of the prisoners of Jaffa. You might like
Obsession (Tonight we are young)
bebeeizrael Her nipples tuck at the slim silk as she bounced close to him.
Wrong move!!
He didn't try to move back, he just stood still as he felt something growing rapidly in his zipper area. He swore softly as she angrily tuck her stray hair behind her ears breathing heavily.
"Are you fucking listening?" She yelled, "Oh! You gat to be kidding me, you break into my apartment, went to my kitchen, maybe went through my stuff, and now! YOU.ARE. FUCKING. LOOKING. LIKE. I DON'T KNOW WHAT THE HELL I'M SAYING!".
Williams didn't flinch, he moved closer swiftly, it almost look supernatural. If they had a third party the person would have vouch Melissa was the person who moved.
Weird!
Seconds ago she was a few meters away yelling at him, but there she stood, wrapped in his strong arms. For what felt like an eternity she didn't want to move, there was no possible reason why she felt safe and super wet but she still prefer to be a bitch for a second or more.
It wasn't until Williams smashed his lips on hers in a devouring kiss! He smiled on her lips as she flinched and struggled to pull out but he held her firm, kissing her passionately, kissing her as he had never kissed before. Brave Tom; Or, The Battle That Won
Edward Sylvester Ellis On a certain summer day, a few years ago, the little village of Briggsville, in Pennsylvania, was thrown into a state of excitement, the like of which was never known since the fearful night, a hundred years before, when a band of red men descended like a cyclone upon the little hamlet with its block-house, and left barely a dozen settlers alive to tell the story of the visitation to their descendants. Tom Gordon lived a mile from Briggsville with his widowed mother and his Aunt Cynthia, a sister to his father, who had died five years before. The boy had no brother or sister; and as he was bright, truthful, good-tempered, quick of perception, and obedient, it can be well understood that he was the pride and hope of his mother and aunt, whose circumstances were of the humblest nature. He attended the village school, where he was the most popular and promising of the threescore pupils under the care of the crabbed Mr. Jenkins. He was as active of body as mind, and took the lead among boys of his own age in athletic sports and feats of dexterity.