La Vendee by Anthony Trollope

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He still insisted on attacking the strongly fortified citadel of Saumur,
and after their success at Fontenay, the chiefs agreed at once to make
arrangements for that great undertaking. The tenth of June was settled
on as the day on which the attack should be commenced, and their utmost
efforts in the mean time were to be employed in raising recruits, arming
and drilling them, and collecting ammunition and stores of war
sufficient for so serious an operation.

For this purpose Cathelineau returned for a while to St. Florent. M.
Charette was requested to bring up all the men he could collect from the
Marais, a part of La Vendee which lies close upon the sea. M. Bonchamps
was invited to join them from Angers. De Lescure returned to Fontenay,
to ask the assistance of those who had been so successful there against
the republicans; while Henri Larochejaquelin, was left at home in the
Bocage, to secure the services of every available man from every
village.

He had two comrades with him in his recruiting party; and though they
were of very different characters, they were almost equally serviceable.
One was his friend and priest, the Cure of St. Laud, and the other was
his servant, Jacques Chapeau. The Cure had no scrupulous compunction in
using his sacerdotal authority as a priest, when the temporal influence
of Larochejaquelin, as landlord, was insufficient to induce a countryman
to leave his wife and home to seek honour under the walls of Saumur. The
peasants were all willing to oppose the republican troops, should they
come into their own neighbourhood to collect conscripts; they were ready
to attack any town where republican soldiers were quartered, providing
they were not required to go above a day's march from their own homes;
but many objected to enrol themselves for any length of time, to bind
themselves as it were to a soldier's trade, and to march under arms to
perform service at a distance from their farms, which to them seemed
considerable. With such men as these, and with their wives and sisters,
Henri argued, and used his blandest eloquence, and was usually
successful; but when he failed, the Cure was not slow in having recourse
to the irresistable thunders of the church.

No one could have been fitter for the duties of a recruiting-sergeant
than Jacques Chapeau; and to his great natural talents in that line, he
added a patriotic zeal, which he copied from his master. No one could
be more zealous in the service of the King, and for the glory of La
Vendee, than was Jacques Chapeau. Jacques had been in Paris with his
master, and finding that all his fellow-servants in the metropolis were
admirers of the revolution, he had himself acquired a strong
revolutionary tendency. His party in Paris had been the extreme
Ultra-Democrats: he had been five or six times at the Jacobins, three
or four times at the Cordeliers; he had learnt to look on a lamp-rope
as the proper destination of an aristocrat, and considered himself equal
to anybody, bu his master, and his master's friends. On Henri's return
to La Vendee, he had imbued himself with a high tone of loyalty, without
any difficulty or constraint on his feelings; indeed, he was probably
unaware that he had changed his party: he had an appetite for strong
politics, was devotedly attached to his master, and had no prudential
misgivings whatsoever. He had already been present at one or two affairs
in which his party had been victorious, and war seemed to him twice more
exciting, twice more delightful than the French Opera, or even the
Jacobin Clubs.

Jacques Chapeau was about five years older than his master, and was as
active and well made a little Frenchman, as ever danced all night at a
ball outside the barriers of Paris. He was a light-hearted and
kind-hearted creature, although he always considered it necessary to
have mortal enemies--horrid, blasphemous, blood-thirsty fellows, men
devoid of feeling, without faith, hope, or charity, who would willingly
slaughter women and children for the mere pleasure of doing so. Such,
in Chapeau's imagination, were all his enemies--such had been the
aristocrats during the time of his revolutionary fervour--such now were
the republicans. Chapeau loved his own side truly and faithfully,
without any admixture of self in his calculations, but I certainly
cannot say for him that he was a good Christian, for all the clergymen
in Anjou could not have taught him to love his enemies.

On a beautiful summer's morning, on the 2nd of June, this remarkable
recruiting party rode from Durbelliere to the little village of
Echanbroignes; the distance was about four leagues, and their road lay,
the whole way, through the sweet green leafy lanes of the Bocage. The
aspect of this province is very singular, and in summer most refreshing.
The country is divided into small farms, which are almost entirely
occupied with pasture; the farms are again divided into small fields,
and each field is surrounded by a belt of trees, growing out of high,
green, flowering hedges. The face of the country is like a thickly
wooded demesne, divided and subdivided into an infinity of little
paddocks. The narrow lanes of the country, which are barely broad enough
for the wheels of a carriage, and are seldom visited by such a vehicle,
lie between thick, high hedges, which completely overshadow them; the
wayfarer, therefore, never has before him that long, straight, tedious,
unsightly line of road, which adds so greatly to the fatigue of
travelling in an open country, and is so painful to the eye.

Through such a lane as this our party rode quickly and cheerily;
quickly, for they had much work before them for that day; and cheerily,
for they knew that the people among whom they were going would join them
with enthusiasm. They were all well mounted, for they rode the best
horses from the stables of Durbelliere: the old Marquis would have
blushed to have given less than the best to the service of his King.

Chapeau was peculiarly elated at the prospect of his day's work; but his
joy was not wholly professional; for Jacques now accounted himself a
soldier by profession. He had another reason for the more than ordinary
gaiety with which he trotted on towards Echanbroignes. There was there
a certain smith, named Michael Stein, who had two stalwart sons, whom
Jacques burnt to enrol in his loyal band of warriors; this smith had
also one daughter, Annot Stein, who, in the eyes of Jacques Chapeau,
combined every female charm; she was young and rosy; she had soft hair
and bright eyes; she could dance all night, and was known to possess in
her on right some mysterious little fortune, left to her by nobody knew
what grandfather or grandmother, and amounting, so said report, to the
comfortable sum of five hundred francs. When Chapeau had risen to some
high military position, a field-marshal's baton, or the gold-laced cap
of a serjeant-major, with whom could he share his honours better than
with his dear little friend, Annot Stein? Jacques wanted her advice upon
this subject, and he therefore rejoiced greatly that the path of duty
was leading him this morning to Echanbroignes.

"We may be sure, Father Jerome," said Henri, "of those men from St.
Michael?"

"Of every man. You will find there will not be a defaulter."

"God send it; one traitor makes many, as sheep follow each other through
a hedge row."

"Do not fear them, my son. Father Francois has the list of them; he will
have every man collected by daylight on the 7th, and he will come on
with them himself as far as the cross-roads; they will there meet my own
children from St. Laud."

"There were to be one hundred and seventy-five from St. Michael."

"Yes; and one hundred and forty from St. Laud; and thirty will have
joined us from Petit Ange de Poitou before we reach the turn from St.
Michael."

"And have you positively determined you will start with them from St.
Laud's yourself, Father Jerome."

"With God's will, my son, I most assuredly shall do so; and from that
to the walls of Saumur, they shall see before them my tattered Cure's
frock, and the blessed symbol of their hope. I will carry the cross
before them from the porch of the little church which shall once more
be my own, till I plant it on the citadel of Saumur beside the standard
of the King."

"Oh! if we had a few more Father Jeromes!" said Henri.

"There might perhaps be more soldiers in La Vendee than at present; but
perhaps also there would be fewer Christians," said the priest. "May God
forgive me if, in my zeal for my King, I am too remiss in His service."

They rode on a little way in silence, for Father Jerome felt a slight
qualm of conscience at his warlike proceedings, and Henri did not like
to interrupt his meditations; but the Cure soon recovered himself.

"I shall have a goodly assemblage of followers," said he, "before I
reach Coron. Those from Echanbroignes will join us half-a-mile from the
town. There will be above two hundred from Echanbroignes."

"Will there? So many as that, think you?"

"They will muster certainly not short of two hundred. Near seven hundred
men will follow me into Coron on the evening of the 7th."

"They will find provisions there in plenty--meat, bread, and wine. They
are not used to lie soft; they will not grumble at having clean straw
to sleep on."

"They shall grumble at nothing, my friend; if your care can supply them
with food, well; if not, we will find bread enough among the townsfolk.
There is not a housewife in Coron, who would refuse me the contents of
her larder."

"The bullocks are ready for the butcher's axe in the stalls at
Durbelliere, please your reverence," said Chapeau, who rode near enough
to his master to take a part in the conversation as occasion offered.
"And the stone wine-jars are ready corked. Momont saw to the latter part
himself. May the saints direct that the drinking have not the same
effect upon our friends that the corking had on Momont, or there will
be many sick head-aches in Coron on the next morning."

"There will be too many of us for that, Jacques. Five hundred throats
will dispose of much good wine, so as to do but little injury."

"That would be true, your reverence, were not some throats so much wider
than others. You will always see that one porker half empties the trough
before others have moistened their snouts in the mess."

"We will see to that, Jacques. We will appoint some temperate fellow
butler, or rather some strong-fisted fellow, whose thick head much wine
will not hurt; though he may swill himself he will not let others do
so."

"If it were not displeasing to yourself and to M. Henri, I would
undertake all that myself. Each man of the five hundred should have his
own share of meat and drink at Coron, and the same again at Doue."

"Will not Jacques be with you?" said the priest, turning round to Henri.
"What should bring him to Coron among my men?"

"He says he has friends here in Echanbroignes, and he has begged that
he may be here with them on the evening of the 6th, so as to accompany
them into Coron on the 7th. We shall all meet at Doue on the 8th."

"I was thinking, your reverence, if any here were loiterers, as there
may be some, I fear; or if there should be any ill inclined to leave
their homes, my example might encourage them. I have a liking for the
village, and I should feel disgraced were a single able-bodied man to
be found near it after the morning of the 7th."

"I trust they will not need any one to remind them of their promise,
when they have once pledged themselves to the service of their King,"
said the priest. "However, you will be, doubtless, useful to me at
Coron. But, Henri, what will you do without him?"

"Adolphe and I will be together, and will do well. We shall have an
absolute barrack at Durbelliere. We shall have above one hundred men in
the house. Agatha and the women are at work night and day."

"You have the worst part of the whole affair--the ammunition."

"It is all packed and ready for the carts; a few days since the cellars
were half-full of the lead and iron, which we have been casting; they
are now, I trust, half-way to Saumur, under Foret's care."

"How many men has he with him?" asked the priest.

"He has all the men from Clisson, from St. Paul's and St. Briulph's--
except a few of Charles' own tenants, who went on forward to join him at
Doue, and who have our supply of flags with them, made in the chateau at
Clisson. Madame de Lescure and poor Marie have worked their fingers to
the bone."

"God bless them! God will bless them, for they are working in the spirit
which he loves."

"Agatha and Annette, between them, have packed nearly every ounce of
gunpowder," said Henri, who could not help boasting of his sister.
"Night and day they have been handling it without regarding for a moment
the destruction which the slightest accident might bring upon them."

"It is that spirit, my son, which will enable us to beat twice our own
strength in numbers, and ten times our own strength in arms and
discipline How many men has Foret with him?"

"Above six hundred. I do not know his exact numbers," said Henri.

"And you, yourself?"

"I shall muster a thousand strong, that is for a certainty; I believe
I shall be nearer twelve thousand."

"Let me see--that will be, say two thousand five hundred from the
Bocage."

"Oh! more than that your reverence," said Chapeau, "you are not counting
M. de Lescure's men, who have gone on with the flags--or the men from
Beauprieu who will follow M. d'Elbee, or the men from St. Florent, who
will come down with Cathelineau."

"I don't count Beauprieu, or Cholet or St. Florent; there will be two
thousand five hundred from our own country, out of three thousand three
hundred male adults, that is three men, Henry, out of every four--they
cannot at any rate say that the spirit of the people is not with us."

As the priest spoke, they rode into the street of the little village of
Echanbroignes, and having stopped at the door of the Mayor's house,
Henri and the Cure dismounted, and giving their horses up to Jacques,
warmly greeted that worthy civic authority, who came out to meet them.

The appointment of a mayor in every village in France, had been enjoined
at an early time in the revolution, and after the death of the King,
these functionaries were, generally speaking, strong republicans; but
the Vendeans in opposition to the spirit of the revolution, had
persisted in electing the Seigneurs, wherever they could get a Seigneur
to act as mayor; and, where this was not the case, some person in the
immediate employment of the landlord was chosen. This was the case at
Echanbroignes, where the agent or intendant of the proprietor was mayor.
He expected the visit which was now paid to him, and having twenty times
expressed his delight at the honour which was done him, he got his hat
and accompanied his visitors to the door of the church, where with his
own hands he commenced a violent assault on the bell-rope, which hung
down in the middle of the porch.

He was ringing the tocsin, which was to call together the people of the
village. They also very generally knew who was coming among them on that
day, and the purpose for which they were corning; and at the first sound
of the bell, all such as intended to shew themselves, came crowding on
to the little space before the church; it was but few who remained at
home, and they were mostly those to whom home at the present moment was
peculiarly sweet; one or two swains newly married, or just about to be
married; one or two fathers, who could hardly bring themselves in these
dangerous times to leave their little prattling children, and one or two
who were averse to lose the profits of their trade.

In spite of the speedy appearance of his townspeople, the Mayor
persisted in his operations on the bell-rope until the perspiration ran
down his face. He was sounding the tocsin, and he felt the importance
of what he was doing. Every one knew that a tocsin bell to be duly rung,
should be rung long and loud--not with a little merry jingle, such as
befitted the announcement of a wedding, but in a manner to strike
astonishment, if not alarm, into its hearers; and on this occasion great
justice was done to the tocsin.

"That will do, M. Mayor; that will do, I think!" said the Cure, "it
looks to me as though our friends were all here."

The Mayor gave an awful pull, the bell leapt wildly up, gave one loud
concluding flourish, and then was quiet.

"Now, M. Mayor," said the Cure, "you have by heart the few words I gave
you, have you not?"

"Indeed, Father Jerome, I have," said the Mayor, "and am not likely to
forget them. Let me see--let me see. Now, my friends, will you be quiet
a moment while I speak to you. Ambrose Corvelin, will you hold your
noisy tongue awhile--perhaps M. de Larochejaquelin, I had better get up
on the wall, they will hear me better?"

"Do, M. Mayor, do," said Henri; and the Mayor was lifted on to the low
wall which ran round the churchyard, and roared out the following words,
at the top of his voice:

"In the holy name of God, and by command of the King, this parish of
Echanbroignes is invited to send as many men as possible to Saumur, to
be there, or at any other such place in the neighbourhood as may be
appointed, at three o'clock on the afternoon of the 9th of June. And may
God defend the right. Amen!" And having said this, the Mayor jumped off
the wall, and the crowd commenced shouting and cheering.

"Wait one moment, and hear me say a few words, my friends," said Henri,
springing to the place which the Mayor had just left. "Most of you, I
believe, know who I am."

"We do, M Henri," said they. "We do, M. Larochejaquelin. We all know who
you are. We know that you are our friend."

"I am very glad you think so," continued he; "for you will know, that
if I am your friend, I shall not deceive you. I have come here to ask
you to share with me the honour and the danger of restoring his father's
kingdom and his father's throne to the son of your murdered King. I have
come here to ask you also to assist me and others, who are your friends,
in protecting yourselves, your pastors, your houses, your wives and
daughters, from the tyranny and cruelty of the republicans."

"We will!" shouted the crowd. "We will go at once. We will be at Saumur
on Wednesday. We will follow M. Larochejaquelin wherever he would lead
us."

"You all know Cathelineau," continued Henri; "you all know the good
postillion of St. Florent?"

"We do, God bless him! we do. We all know the Saint of Anjou."

"Come and meet him, my friends, under the walls of Saumur; or rather,
I should say, come and meet him within the walls of Saumur. Come and
greet the noble fellows of St. Florent, who have set us so loyal an
example. Come and meet the brave men of Fontenay, who trampled on the
dirty tricolour, and drove out General Coustard from his covert, like
a hunted fox. He is now at Saumur; we will turn him out from thence."

"We will! we will! We will hang up Coustard by the heels."

"We will strip him rather of his spurs and his epaulettes, of his sword
and blue coat, and send him back to the Convention, that they may see
what will become of the heroes, whom they send to seek for glory in La
Vendee. Thanks, my friends; thanks for your kindness. I will lead you
to no dangers which I will not share with you. You shall suffer no
hardship of which I will not partake. I will look for no glory in which
you shall not be my partners."

During the time that the Mayor had been giving his invitation to the
people, and Henri had been speaking to them, Father Jerome had been
busily employed with Jacques Chapeau over six or seven little lists
which he held in his hand. These were lists of the names of able-bodied
men, which had been drawn out by the Cure of the parish, and Jacques had
already marked those of one or two whom he had found to be absent, and
among them the names of Michael Stems' two stalwart sons. Father Jerome
again handed the lists to Jacques, and as Henri descended from the wall,
amid the greeting of the populace, he ascended it, and gave them a
little clerical admonition.

"My children," said he, "it delights my heart to find that so few of you
are absent from us this morning--from the whole parish there are but
five, I believe, who have not readily come forward to proclaim their
zeal for their God, their King, and their Church: those five, I doubt
not, will be here when we proceed to check the names. Let it not be said
that there was one recreant in Echanbroignes--one man afraid to answer
when called for by his country. Is there danger in the bloody battle we
have before us?--let us all share it, and it will be lighter. Is it a
grievous thing for you to leave your wives and your children?--let no
man presume to think that he will be happier than his neighbours, for
that man shall assuredly be the most miserable. It is possible that some
of you may leave your bodies beneath the walls of Saumur, be it so; will
you complain because the Creator may require from some of you the life
which he has given? Is it not enough for you to know, that he who falls
fighting with this blessed symbol before his eyes, shall that night rest
among the angels of Heaven?" and the Cure held up on high, above the
people, a huge cross, which he bad had brought to him out of the church.
"God has blessed you, my children, in giving you the sacred privilege
of fighting in His cause. You would indeed be weak--senseless as the
brutes--unfeeling as the rocks--aye, impious as the republicans, had you
not replied to the summons as you have done; but you have shown that you
know your duty. I see, my children, that you are true Vendeans. I bless
you now, and on tomorrow week, I will be among you before the walls of
Saumur."

Having finished speaking, the priest also jumped off the wall, and again
the people shouted and cheered. And now they went to work with the
lists: Henri, the Mayor, and the Cure each took a pencil, and called the
names of the different men, as they were written down. There was of
course much delay in getting the men as they were called; but Chapeau
had sworn in three or four assistants, and he and they dived in among
the crowd, hurried this way and that, and shouted, screamed, and
screeched with great effect. The lists were made out with some regard
to the localities; the men from the lower end of the village were to go
to Henri's side; those from the northern part to Father Jerome's table;
and the inhabitants of the intermediate village were checked off by the
Mayor. Chapeau and his friends were most diligent in marshalling them;
to be sure, Jacques knew the names of but few of them; but he made them
tell him whether they were villagers, northerns, or lower-end men; and
though the men in many instances couldn't answer this themselves, the
divisions were effected, the names of all were called over, those who
were there were checked off and informed what was expected of them, and
where and by whom arms would be supplied to them: and those who were not
there became the unhappy victims of a black list.

Father Jerome, when he said that there were only five absent, was
something but not much out in his reckoning: his object, however, had
been to make the people think that he knew exactly who was there, and
who was not there; and in this he was successful. During the calling of
the lists, one or two stragglers dropped in who hoped to escape
detection: respecting a few others, some good ground of excuse was
alleged; but on this head the Cure was most severe: he would accept no
plea but that of absolute downright sickness, and of this he required
to have most ample testimony--even Henri sometimes pleaded for the
people, but unsuccessfully. The Republic by their proscription would
have decimated the men; the Cure of St. Laud insisted on taking them
all.

The houses of those who had not presented themselves were to be visited,
and the two first on the list were Jean and Peter Stein.

"Jean and Peter Stein," said Henri. "Why, Jacques, are they not friends
of yours? are they not sons of Michael Stein, the smith?"

"Quiet, M. Henri; pray be quiet for a moment, and I will explain."

"Are they not strong, active lads," said the Cure, turning somewhat
angrily on Chapeau, as though he were responsible for the principles of
his friends.

"They are, they are, your reverence, fine strong active lads as you ever
laid your eyes on."

"And they are afraid to carry a musket for their king?"

"Not a bit, Father Jerome, not a bit afraid; nor yet unwilling, M.
Henri. I will explain it all; only let us be a little by ourselves."

"There is a mystery, Father Jerome," said Henri, "and Chapeau must have
his own way in explaining it."

"Exactly, M. Henri; I will explain all." By this time he had got the
priest and his master somewhat out of the crowd. "You see, M. Henri,
there are not two young men in the Bocage more determined to fight for
the good cause this moment, than Jean and Peter Stein."

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