In August 1842, France lost one of the great figures of the Napoleonic epic: Baron Dominique-Jean Larrey, chief surgeon of the Grande Armée and a physician renowned for his devotion to wounded soldiers, died in Lyon on July 25, upon returning from a mission to Algeria. A few days later, Victor Hugo sent a letter of condolence to his son, Hippolyte Larrey, in which he paid tribute to the memory of this man who, in his eyes, embodied both the glories…
Read moreIn August 1842, France lost one of the great figures of the Napoleonic epic: Baron Dominique-Jean Larrey, chief surgeon of the Grande Armée and a physician renowned for his devotion to wounded soldiers, died in Lyon on July 25, upon returning from a mission to Algeria. A few days later, Victor Hugo sent a letter of condolence to his son, Hippolyte Larrey, in which he paid tribute to the memory of this man who, in his eyes, embodied both the glories of the Empire and the living memory of a bygone era. This letter thus transcends the simple expression of personal sympathy: it also testifies to Hugo's fascination with the figure of Napoleon and his awareness of the gradual disappearance of the last witnesses of this historical period.
"In response to the letter you have honored me with, I hasten, Sir, to inform you that I have given the necessary orders so that the Institute will be able to pay its last respects tomorrow to your worthy and honorable father, Baron Larrey.
Others, more competent and eloquent than I, will speak of Mr. Larrey's great merits and the Institute's profound regrets. Allow me, however, sir, to express to you personally how deeply I have been affected by the great loss you have just suffered. Mr. Larrey's name was intertwined with all the glories of the Empire, and he himself was one of them. Every day, we see the passing of one of these revered men who were among us like living memories of a time of grandeur. Before long, this dazzling sun that we call the Napoleonic era will have completely faded; it is an inevitable law, I know, but I am nonetheless deeply saddened each time one of its rays is extinguished. It seems to me that the night of Glory is falling upon my country. Let us at least try, Sir, we who are the sons of these devoted and illustrious men, let us try to restore to France, through science, through art, through thought, a little of that splendor which war and victory had given her [...]. Victor Hugo.
ReduceAddress on the back, with postal markings.
