(1)

and now at last the west was really ablaze, and in a few days, as department after department lit up with the carefully prepared flame, the republicans began to suffer more serious reverses than they had known since the days of the grande guerre, the vendée proper, six years before. for the chouannerie which the dying directory had to face was very different from what it had been in the days of hoche and the convention; it was no longer a swarm of small peasant uprisings led, sometimes, by nameless chiefs as uneducated as the men who followed them. the leaders of this war were gentlemen, returned émigrés, with enrolled levies at their disposal; with a system of requisition, a network of espionage and intelligence throughout the country districts; with, here and there, white-plumed staff officers wearing the cross of st. louis, with uniforms, now and then with fifes and drums, and even, in one or two cases, with a little cavalry.

and their tactics were new and more formidable. no longer did they content themselves with overrunning the country districts, avoiding the neighbourhood of towns; on the contrary, as m. de kersaint had told the ladies of la vergne, they were in such force that they threatened—and did more than threaten—those centres of republicanism.

at the voice of cadoudal the country between vannes and auray had risen as one man. not vainly had he boasted in the spring of his careful organisation. and while he himself successively took landévant between auray and hennebont, port navalo at the outlet of the inland sea of the morbihan, and other places between that and the mouth of the vilaine, his lieutenant sol de grisolles raised the districts between the mouth of the vilaine and that of the loire. to him fell la roche-bernard on the river itself, pontchateau and guérande with its medi?val walls and towers, a formidable triangle of possessions above st. nazaire and the loire mouth. and these were only some of the republican losses in brittany.

maine fought under the young comte de bourmont, seconded by the veteran chevalier de tercier, and chappedelaine, and the chevalier de chateauneuf—who was “achille le blond.” another of bourmont’s lieutenants, la fregeolière, pushed as far as le lude and la flèche on the borders of the angoumois and touraine. anjou obeyed the old comte de chatillon, and, after the brilliant initial success of his chief of staff, d’andigné, at noyant in september, the angevins made rapid incursions into the districts of segré, candé and chateauneuf. ingrandes, varades on the loire, garrisoned towns, were threatened. from the loire right up to the c?tes-du-nord the republican cantonments and posts were submerged under a flood of insurgents.

but far more resounding than all these widespread successes were the audacious coups de main carried out on large towns. st. brieuc on its bay in the c?tes-du-nord was not, it is true, a large town, but it was garrisoned; yet mercier, cadoudal’s young alter ego, and saint-régent took and held it for a night while general casabianca barricaded himself in his hotel. the chouans set free three hundred royalists imprisoned there, and took muskets. but, ten days before this, a much more daring capture had been made—nothing less than the city of le mans which, at three o’clock on the morning of october 15, bourmont’s forces entered at five points simultaneously. he held it for three days before he withdrew. even more than le mans, nantes, that great city, proud of its resistance to the vendean army, might have seemed secure. but while grigny, commanding there, went out in the wrong direction to encounter the angevins, chatillon and d’andigné, under cover of a thick fog, slipped in at four o’clock in the morning of october 20 with no more than two thousand followers, of whom only half were accustomed to arms.

the taking of nantes, though the place had to be evacuated before daylight, and though it did not give the captors any material advantage in the way of arms and powder, as did the seizure of le mans, had, equally with that exploit, exactly the effect on public opinion that the royalists had hoped, creating such a terror in the large towns that they could not be left without adequate garrisons, and thus immobilising a number of republican troops, and leaving the country districts freer for the operations of the royalists. before either of these feats, however, the example had been set in finistère—and was not valentine proud of it?—when her husband, with a smaller force than any, seized and held for two days and nights the pleasant cathedral city of quimper, the chef-lieu of the department. yet she could hardly have been prouder than ‘les jeunes,’ who played a most conspicuous part in the enterprise. to the republicans of quimper the sudden inroad of a hitherto unknown phenomenon, chouan cavalry—not very wonderfully mounted, it is true, nor smartly equipped, but making a terrific noise on the cobbled streets—was little short of apocalyptic. the chevalier de la vergne, the commander of this small body, observed to his two intimates that they had a right to give themselves airs, since the capture of quimper was undoubtedly due in the main to “charlemagne’s horse,” as he had christened his corps; but roland reminded him that, if such were the case, it was really mirabel which had taken the town, for mirabel had mounted and armed those cavaliers, as it had armed the greater part of m. de kersaint’s gars.

and, after leaving quimper, before the troops sent in haste from the morbihan could fall upon him, the marquis de kersaint was up threatening chateaulin, while m. du ménars with “charlemagne’s horse” marched rapidly towards carhaix. a force was then ordered out of brest in the hopes of catching the royalists between two fires, but, nobody knew how, m. de kersaint and his men slipped through, and, effecting a junction with his subordinate, plunged into the wild, broken country round huelgoat, where the blues did not dare to follow them. finally, in retiring unsatisfied to brest, the republicans were fallen upon in the rear by a perfectly unexpected body of chouans from the north, which they had believed quiet. their leader was one “sincère.” and the authorities, completely misinformed as they had been about the supposed quiescence of finistère, were at their wits’ end to know where the flame would next break out in the department.

but south of the loire things did not go so well. there were no great generals left there; the majority even of the former officers were missing. forestier, the most popular, was still recovering from his terrible wound of august, and his ill-success then made a new levy still more difficult. yet d’autichamp, suzannet, and grignon, who divided the three vendean commands, did their best. the republicans had few forces on the left bank of the loire, and one brilliant success might have raised vendée from ruins. the success did not come. suzannet attacked montaigu, was beaten off and severely wounded, a misfortune which led directly to the dispersal of his men. d’autichamp, who had got together a rather larger force, fell in at les aubiers with two hundred and fifty blues whose commander stationed some of them in the church tower, whence they killed and wounded some forty royalists. it was proposed to burn them out, but this would have offended the religious scruples of the vendeans, and they were besieged instead. after twenty-four hours without food or water they were still holding out. meanwhile the republican chef de brigade at bressuire was on the march. d’autichamp went to nueil to defend the passage of the little river argenton against him, left the command there to a peasant subordinate, and returned to les aubiers. he had better have stayed at nueil. the vendeans, according to their incorrigible habit, neglected to put sentries, the blues from bressuire surprised them, and they were put to flight.

the affair did not cost many men, but it had a most unfortunate moral effect. five thousand vendeans had allowed themselves to be surprised and routed by eight hundred blues. “where is cathelineau?” was the universal cry. and in fact this miserable affray of les aubiers decided the fate of the whole campaign in vendée, for after it d’autichamp could only skirmish, and grignon, in the centre, was never able to get together many men. much, certainly, had hung on the valour of the blues in the church tower and the religious scruples of their opponents.

but the failure of vendée and the startling successes in brittany alike paled before a much greater event. on the 9th of october, the very day that gaston de trélan had ridden away alone from la vergne at sunrise, general bonaparte, abandoning his army in egypt, landed at fréjus. on the 16th, the day after the taking of le mans, he was at paris. in a month from the date of his landing, the 9th of november, the directory lay in the dust, and he was acclaimed first consul of the temporary consulate, and the saviour of france. across the path of the bourbons there no longer sprawled a hydra-headed incompetence. one man of genius, with a vehement, implacable will stood there, armed.

the road to power had been made easy for him. france was only crying out for a deliverer to raise her from the state of mud and blood in which she lay. attempts had already been made to find one in joubert or moreau. it was conceivable that even had a bourbon appeared he might very well have been accepted. but it was too late now.

yet this moment was the very apogee of the royalist revival in the west. never had they been better organised, better recognised as a military force. what they had taken or threatened in three weeks was amazing. in the morbihan they were entirely masters of the countryside; in ille-et-vilaine they had strong detachments near rennes, fougères, and vitré; bourmont in maine occupied the bourgs and even the little towns on the banks of the sarthe and the loire; and distant finistère had become almost volcanic.

on account of these very successes, overtures of peace had already been made, from the side of the directory, before the great change of brumaire. with them was charged the republican general-in-chief in the west, the comte de hédouville, a gentleman with the manners and predilections of his caste, and he, in his headquarters at angers, was actually in conference with the chosen go-between—a royalist lady, mme turpin de crissé—on the day of the coup d’état itself, so that his success was announced to a government already overthrown. for he naturally directed his powers of conciliation towards the least victorious wing of the royalist forces. it was with aversion and amazement, therefore, that the leaders of brittany, maine and anjou heard that an armistice had been signed on november 25 for the left bank of the loire. and during the cessation of hostilities the comte de grignon was surprised and killed by the republicans, so that since d’autichamp, who had always opposed the taking up of arms, was more than willing, and suzannet was hors de combat, there remained no obstacle to the pacification of vendée. a conference for that object was imminent.

but a suspension of arms on the left bank of the loire almost of necessity brought about one on the right also, whether the leaders were anxious for it or no. chatillon indeed was of the former for he was old and ill. but cadoudal and mercier received it with great disfavour. yet, whether it were to result in peace or no, the armistice for the purpose of treating of pacification was promulgated on december 9, and pouancé in anjou was appointed as the place of meeting.

the marquis de kersaint, away in unvanquished finistère, was too bitterly disgusted to attend these conferences in person. but, unless he wished to lose touch with the other leaders, he was obliged to be represented there, and he sent to pouancé two delegates, his chief of staff, the chevalier du ménars, and the abbé chassin.

(2)

from the abbé chassin’s diary.

pouancé, christmas eve, 1799.—a good occasion for reviewing, before i say my first mass of the feast, these brief notes that i have been keeping since m. du ménars and i came here a fortnight ago. yet really all that i can say is that we are still here, discussing, discussing . . . the energy expended on these conferences might have launched a battle or a siege. perhaps in its way it is as usefully spent.

the party for continuing the war is in a minority, that is clear. but it is a very strong minority—cadoudal, our mainstay here, mercier, the comte de bourmont, one or two minor chiefs, and, of course, through our voices, the “marquis de kersaint.” that the vendean leaders cry for peace one cannot wonder, for vendée is exhausted. they say they have not even enough munitions for a headquarters guard. but the war minority would more than once have liked to break off the conferences, and it was only after stormy discussions that m. de bourmont was named as delegate to hédouville at angers. he has others with him now. i have hardly dared inform gaston how things were tending, though i was sent here for that purpose.

there is this to be said, that we began with a moral victory, since we obtained that the government should send no more troops into the west during the armistice. and our military position—except in vendée—is so good that we have every right to hope to gain our points. moreover the acts of the new government, particularly the abrogation of the abominable law of hostages, have disposed many minds towards conciliation. some of the more warlike leaders, even, are not opposed to a respite, provided that they can remain in arms, as they are doing. and then there is this widespread idea among them that bonaparte intends to play the part of a monk, and use his power for a restoration of royalty. i must confess i do not share it, but m. du ménars does. at any rate time to penetrate the first consul’s intentions is no loss—we sent the chevalier d’andigné to paris on december 18 to sound him. moreover we want to be certain of monseigneur le comte d’artois’ wishes.

so time is really what we are playing for in these negotiations with hédouville. the worst of it is that hédouville is so accommodating that he makes this difficult! all our just demands are on the way to being accepted—complete freedom for religion, no oath or formal submission, no disarmament, oblivion of the past, and no conscription. if this is really so then we should lay down—but not give up—our arms on an honourable peace. but would the terms be observed afterwards by the government? georges, i know, doubts it. . . .

it is time to prepare for my mass. i shall say all three in a disused church, with the leaders who are here and our breton guard for congregation. the proper season for thoughts of peace. . . .

december 29.—all those dreams of peace are scattered. yesterday, like a thunderbolt from a clear sky, without warning, without justification, appeared a most violent and provocative proclamation from the three consuls to the inhabitants of the west, denouncing our chiefs—who at the very moment are in treaty with their representative—but professing a tenderness for those who had been “led astray” by them. the government will pardon those who repent, but will strike down those who, after this warning, dare still to resist.

everyone is burning with indignation. most certainly the first consul is not going to play monk! one begins to see him, a menacing figure, behind the conciliatory form of general hédouville, who wishes us well and has always acted as an honourable opponent—and who has written, evidently with regret, that if we cannot come to an agreement with him by the 15th (he means of their new-fangled niv?se, of which to-day is the 8th) hostilities must begin again, as a result of orders he has received from paris.

and, as if fate had determined that they should, m. de chatillon has this very day received a letter from monseigneur le comte d’artois confirming the instructions he had already sent, not to make peace unless it were part of a plan for the general pacification of europe, and saying that help is on the way, and that he himself will soon be here. will he?

if he do come our forces will be doubled in the twinkling of an eye. probably the first consul knows that, and wishes to have done with us before he could arrive. bonaparte must know, too, of our division of opinion, our want of arms and ammunition and artillery. i feel that he intends to have victory at any price, and that he would prefer to crush us rather than to placate—it would give him more advertisement.

so ends the conference of pouancé. georges has already left for the morbihan; la prévalaye and bourmont have returned, or are returning, to their divisions. we hear that the victorious army of holland, under the detestable brune, is on the way to brittany. m. du ménars and i start back on our journey to finistère in an hour’s time.

quimperlé, january 4.—we have taken longer than i expected to reach the soil of finistère, but we have gone slowly on purpose, not wishing to get out of touch with possible developments, for we believe that the indefatigable hédouville is trying to get together a new conference in spite of the shock which slew the first. yet, if he does, m. du ménars and i should not return without an authorisation which we know well enough gaston will never give.

and now that we have seen with our own eyes to-day a copy of the far more violent manifesto, signed by the first consul, to the army of the west, we think that the sooner we are back at the clos-aux-grives the better, for that does not sound like conferences. “the majority of good citizens,” runs this proclamation, “have already laid down their arms; there remain only brigands, émigrés, men in the pay of england—frenchmen in the pay of england! march against them; you will not be called upon to display much valour . . . let me soon learn that the chiefs of the rebels have ceased to exist!”

such are a few phrases culled from it. that “frenchmen in the pay of england” is a clever and a galling touch. indeed, it is the great misfortune of our party to be mixed up so inextricably with the foreigner. and yet it is not our fault; it is the fault of circumstances. england alone, with austria, continues the struggle; she is rich; it is she who disposes of the persons of most of our princes, since they live under her protection. . . . yet it pleases me to think that epithet does not apply to gaston, at any rate. the promised english subsidy amounted to very little; it is his own gold, from his own house, which has made it possible for him to do the wonders he has done.

i do not like that “let me learn that the chiefs of the rebels have ceased to exist”; it savours, somehow, of methods unworthy of a soldier.

january 6.—back at le clos-aux-grives. gaston (as i thought i should find him) determined to continue the struggle, whatever the rest decide. he has the advantage of the remotest and wildest country, and georges, his nearest neighbour, will certainly do as he is doing. but the forces of finistère are pitifully small compared to the enemy’s. if only he could get help by sea from england!

january 7.—we hear that there is to be a new conference opened on the 10th at candé. gaston refuses to have anything to do with it, and indeed it would be impossible to get there in time now.

january 10.—decidedly we are returning to the worst days of the directory. a decree has just come down declaring the departments of the west outlawed.

january 15.—negotiations were reopened two days ago at candé.

january 18.—nothing settled yet at candé, we hear, but the rupture of the truce is postponed till january 22. gaston speaks of sending me to england.

january 20.—most disastrous news. two days ago, at montfaucon-sur-moine, the officers of vendée signed a separate peace. alas for the glorious shades of la roche-jaquelein and lescure!

january 22.—the truce expires to-day. anjou is disbanding.

january 24.—brune’s army is getting nearer every day, and it is said that he is to replace hédouville as general-in-chief. we hear that bourmont was defeated two days ago by chabot at meslay; unless he can recover, that means that maine, too, is gone. brisk fighting is going on indeed in the c?tes-du-nord, but our hopes rest on cadoudal, the unbeaten and unyielding. gaston has sent m. du ménars with what men he can spare southwards.

january 25.—a report that yesterday or the day before cadoudal fought an indecisive action with harty, commanding the troops at vannes, at pont-du-loc. georges is not beaten, that is clear, but, if he is not victorious, it may menace his bold plan of pushing on, after crushing harty, to the banks of the vilaine, and joining hands with sol de grisolles, there to await brune’s onset—and after that, perhaps, of joining hands with gaston.

january 26.—only too true. georges has sent a courier to warn gaston. his plan is hopeless. he fears, too, that sol de grisolles is not in a state to defend the passage of the vilaine. and bourmont has given in.

doubtless there is something in race, and ancient blood. the prospect before us, once so bright, is hourly more gloomy, and i know, none better, what failure means to gaston. yet he keeps his profound discouragement wonderfully to himself, and his little army is still as well disciplined as it is possible for a chouan force to be. it is already unsafe for us to make the clos-aux-grives our permanent headquarters. we live dispersed in the forest, only meeting there occasionally by day, never by night. i write this, in fact, seated on a fallen stone of the dolmen where that memorable meeting—about which i have never been told—took place last august. i wonder what has become of that misguided madman, the comte de brencourt?

gaston had a letter from the duchesse to-day, sent by a stable-boy from la vergne. i say to myself still, that whatever happens he can never be captured, in such proximity to the sea as he will be if we are forced to retire when brune enters the morbihan. he and she can always take ship for england at the eleventh hour.

january 27.—the garrison of quimper has evidently been reinforced. a hot brush to-day on the lanvennec road. we have lost forty-three killed and wounded, among them, alas, two of our few remaining officers. roland has got a scratch of which he is rather proud. i have just been dressing it. gaston, i could see, was on tenterhooks about it.

january 28.—very bad news indeed. cadoudal has had to disband his men, for fear of being crushed by brune’s advance. these disastrous tidings, getting through by unknown channels as things do here, have caused some desertions. rumours that m. du ménars is killed. it is very cold in the forest.

january 29.—brune entered vannes yesterday, and made a great requisition of money, overcoats and shoes for his troops. i am to go to england. would i were not!

january 30.—last night a party of blues from lanvennec sacked and burnt the clos-aux-grives. there was no one there, and it was not worth throwing away lives in its defence, as it was of little use to us. ‘les jeunes’ of course wanted to defend their nursery. the night was red with the flames of it. farewell, old house!

it is true about m. du ménars. he was a brave man and a good officer. r.i.p. his men no longer exist as a force.

i want gaston to make for la vergne. but he will not, principally, i think, because all his desire is there. but it would be an excellent headquarters—or more accurately, i fear, place of retreat—for a time.

february 4.—cadoudal is reported to be actually treating with brune, and the terms, alas, include disarmament. in a day or two gaston will find himself literally alone, with his mere handful of men, against brune’s whole army. he still hopes for help from england, and for some outcome of those ambitious plans which—too late—the prince’s council have made, and says that so long as he can keep open a part of the coast of finistère for that purpose, so long he is doing his duty and not sacrificing men uselessly; and that it will take brune considerable time to advance across the morbihan into finistère. this is true. i start for england with his despatches to-morrow morning. my admiration for him knows no bounds; he has broken those “aspera fata.”

but this evening i had a letter from paris, from “paul berry,” which has made me very uneasy. he says—and he should know, if anyone—that the first consul is furious against the “marquis de kersaint,”—“that insolent without an army who still holds out”—and they say that he has sworn to make an example of one chouan leader at least. a horrible fear possesses me that that example may be made of the last in arms, the highest in rank, and . . . his foe of rivoli. does bonaparte remember that, i wonder?

much troubled by this letter, which i received after seeing gaston and getting my last instructions i went to him again. the allée des vieilles has such a bad reputation after dark in the district that we have been able to use it undisturbed as a bivouac. (it makes a detestable one, owing to the wind on the lande.) i found gaston walking up and down in the darkness by the ghostly stones, muffled in his cloak. i told him what i had just heard from paris. he laughed.

“is the young man from corsica a bugbear who has frightened even you, pierre?” he asked. “i promise you he shall not have me to ‘make an example of,’ if that is his phrase, till the last possible moment. and when i have done all i can—what does it matter if he succeeds?”

seeing him in that mood, and feeling that i was leaving him—with what a heavy heart!—to i know not what imminent perils, i said, “you need never fall into his hands, gaston, whatever of defeat happens. here the door is always open behind you. the sea——”

he interrupted me, in that suddenly freezing voice he has when he is displeased. “i am surprised at you, pierre,” he said, and turned his back on me.

i was a little hurt; of course i knew better than to insult him by suggesting that he should desert his men. i only meant to remind him that should it come to submission—and in my heart, i can see nothing else before him—once the formalities over, he can so easily take ship for england. i explained this, and, though i did not like using this weapon, i am so afraid of what i may be leaving him to—and most of all his own indomitable pride—that i added, “gaston, remember that you would not sail alone!”

a little quiver went through him, almost as if i had struck him. he said never a word, but i saw his face for a second in the light of the camp fire. i presumed, i daresay, for there is perfect understanding between them on all things—yet, for all that, surely she should have some consideration shown her! in that thought lies my best hope.

but i wish to god i were not going to england. . . .