A council of war, composed of French marshals, was appointed to try him;
but they had little inclination to pass sentence on an old companion in
arms; and declared their incompetency to try one, who, when he
consummated his treason, was a peer of France. Accordingly, by a royal
ordinance of November 12th, the Chamber of Peers were directed to take
cognizance of the affair. His defence was made to rest by his
advocates--first, on the twelfth article of the capitulation, and when
this was overruled, on the ground of his no longer being amenable to
French laws, since Sarre-Louis, his native town, had recently been
dissevered from France. This the prisoner himself overruled; "I _am_ a
Frenchman, (cried Ney), and I will die a Frenchman!" The result was that
he was found guilty and condemned to death by an immense majority, one
hundred and sixty-nine to seventeen. On hearing the sentence read
according to usage, he interrupted the enumeration of his titles, by
saying: "Why cannot you simply call me Michael Ney--now a French
soldier, and soon a heap of dust?" His last interview with his lady, who
was sincerely attached to him, and with his children, whom he
passionately loved, was far more bitter than the punishment he was about
to undergo. This heavy trial being over, he was perfectly calm, and
spoke of his approaching fate with the utmost unconcern. "Marshal," said
one of his sentinels, a poor grenadier, "you should now think of God. I
never faced danger without such preparation." "Do you suppose (answered
Ney) that any one need teach me to die?" But he immediately gave way to
better thoughts, and added, "Comrade, you are right. I will die as
becomes a man of honour and a Christian. Send for the curate of St.
Sulpice."

A little after eight o'clock on the morning of December 7th, the
marshal, with a firm step and an air of perfect indifference, descended
the steps leading to the court of the Luxembourg, and entered a carriage