In obedience to an order which arrived at Saumur one morning in the July of 1788,1 was summoned before the commandant of the school, when the following brief colloquy ensued:—
‘Maurice Tiernay,’ said he, reading from the record of the school, why are you called l’Irlandais?’
‘I am Irish by descent, sir.’
‘Ha! by descent. Your father was, then, an émigré?
‘No, sir—my great-grandfather.’
‘Parbleu! that is going very far back. Are you aware of the causes which induced him to leave his native country?’
‘They were connected with political trouble, I’ve heard, sir. He took part against the English, my father told me, and was obliged to make his escape to save his life.’ ‘You, then, hate the English, Maurice?’ ‘My ancestor certainly did not love them, sir.’
‘Nor can you, boy, ever forgive their having exiled your family from country and home; every man of honour retains the memory of such injuries.’
‘I can scarcely deem that an injury, sir, which has made me a French citizen,’ said I proudly.
‘True, boy—you say what is perfectly true and just; any sacrifice of fortune or patrimony is cheap at such a price; still you have suffered a wrong—a deep and irreparable wrong—and as a Frenchman you are ready to avenge it.’