Chapter 2: The Beginning Of Troubles.
Chapter 3: The First Successes.
Chapter 4: Cathelineau's Scouts.
Chapter 5: Checking The Enemy.
Chapter 6: The Assault Of Chemille.
Chapter 7: A Short Rest.
Chapter 8: The Capture Of Saumur.
Chapter 9: Bad News.
Chapter 10: Preparations For A Rescue.
Chapter 11: The Attack On Nantes.
Chapter 12: A Series Of Victories.
Chapter 13: Across The Loire.
Chapter 14: Le Mans.
Chapter 15: In Disguise.
Chapter 16: A Friend At Last:
Chapter 17: A Grave Risk.
Chapter 18: Home.
Illustrations
"Follow Me!" he shouted. "Make for the gun!"
At the first volley, the colonel of the dragoons and many of his men fell.
A scattered fire broke out from the defenders.
Leigh gave the word and, leaping up, they threw themselves on the traitor.
He was the bearer of terrible news.
Jean seized one of them by the throat.
Westermann's cavalry charged into the streets of Dol.
For two or three minutes, husband and wife stood together.
Preface.
In the world's history, there is no more striking example of heroic
bravery and firmness than that afforded by the people of the
province of Poitou, and more especially of that portion of it known
as La Vendee, in the defence of their religion and their rights as
free men. At the commencement of the struggle they were almost
unarmed, and the subsequent battles were fought by the aid of
muskets and cannon wrested from the enemy. With the exception of
its forests, La Vendee offered no natural advantages for defence.
It had no mountains, such as those which enabled the Swiss to
maintain their independence; no rivers which would bar the advance
of an enemy; and although the woods and thickets of the Bocage, as
it was called, favoured the action of the irregular troops, these
do not seem to have been utilized as they might have been, the
principal engagements of the war being fought on open ground. For
eighteen months the peasants of La Vendee, in spite of the fact
that they had no idea of submitting either to drill or discipline,
repulsed the efforts of forces commanded by the best generals
France could furnish; and which grew, after every defeat, until at
length armies numbering, in all, over two hundred thousand men were
collected to crush La Vendee.
The losses on both sides were enormous. La Vendee was almost
depopulated; and the Republicans paid dearly, indeed, for their
triumph, no fewer than one hundred thousand men having fallen, on
their side. La Vendee was crushed, but never surrendered. Had the
British government been properly informed, by its agents, of the
desperate nature of the struggle that was going on; they might, by
throwing twenty thousand troops, with supplies of stores and money
into La Vendee, have changed the whole course of events; have
crushed the Republic, given France a monarch, and thus spared
Europe over twenty years of devastating warfare, the expenditure of
enormous sums of money, and the loss of millions of lives.
G. A. Henty
Chapter 1: A French Lugger.
Some half a mile back from the sea, near the point where the low
line of sandy hill is broken by the entrance into Poole Harbour,
stood, in 1791, Netherstock; which, with a small estate around, was
the property of Squire Stansfield. The view was an extensive one,
when the weather was clear. Away to the left lay the pine forests
of Bournemouth and Christ Church and, still farther seaward, the
cliffs of the Isle of Wight, from Totland Bay as far as Saint
Catherine Point. Close at hand to the south was Studland Bay,
bounded by Handfast Point. Looking towards the right was a great
sheet of shallow water, for the most part dry at low tide, known as
Poole and Wareham Harbours, with its numerous creeks and bays.
Netherstock was an old house, with many nooks and corners. The
squire was a justice of the peace but, unless there was some
special business on, he seldom took his place on the bench. He was
a jovial man, who took life easily. He was popular among his
neighbours, especially among the poorer classes; for whom he had
always a pleasant word, as he rode along; and who, in case of
illness, knew that they could always be sure of a supply of soup,
or a gill of brandy at Netherstock.
Among those of his own class it was often a matter of wonder how
James Stansfield made both ends meet. The family had, for two or
three generations, been of a similar temperament to that of the
present holder; men who spent their money freely, and were sure to
be present whenever there was a horse race, or a main of cocks to
be fought, or a prizefight to come off, within a day's ride of
Netherstock. Gradually, farm after farm had been parted with; and
the estate now was smaller, by half, than it had been at the
beginning of the century.
James Stansfield had, however, done nothing further to diminish it.
He had a large family, but they could hardly be said to be an
expensive one, seeing that little was spent upon the fashion of
their clothes; and beyond the fact that the curate in charge of the
little church in the village of Netherstock came over, every
morning for two or three hours, to give the boys and girls the
elements of education, they went very much their own way. Mrs.
Stansfield had died, five years before this. Polly, the eldest
girl, aged twenty, acted as mistress of the house. Next to her, at
intervals of little more than a year, came Ralph and John; two
strongly built young fellows, both fearless riders and good at all
rustic games. What supervision the farm work got was given by them.
Patsey, the second girl, was generally admitted to be the flower of
the Stansfields. She was bright, pretty, and good tempered. She was
in charge of the dairy, and the Netherstock butter was famous
through the country round, and always fetched top prices at the
market. The youngest of the family was Leigh, who was now fourteen.
He was less heavily built than his brothers, but their tutor
declared that he was the quickest and most intelligent of his
pupils; and that, if he had but a chance, he would turn out a fine
young fellow.
The boys were all fond of boating and sailing, which was natural
enough, as the sea washed two sides of the estate. They had two
boats. One of these lay hauled up on the sands, a mile to the east
of the entrance to the harbour. She was a good sea boat and, when
work was slack about the place, which indeed was the normal state
of things, they would often sail to Weymouth to the west, or
eastward to Yarmouth or Lymington, sometimes even to Portsmouth.
The other boat, which was also large, but of very shallow draught
of water, lay inside the entrance to the harbour; and in her they
could go either north or south of Brownsea Island, and shoot or
fish in the many inlets and bays. There were few who knew every
foot of the great sheet of water as they did, and they could tell
the precise time of the tide at which the channels were deep enough
for boats drawing from two to three feet of water.
The most frequent visitor to Netherstock was Lieutenant, or, as he
was called in courtesy, Captain Whittier, the officer in command of
the coast guard station between Poole and Christ Church; his
principal station being opposite Brownsea Island, the narrowest
point of the entrance to the harbour. He was a somewhat fussy
little officer, with a great idea of the importance of his duties,
mingled with a regret that these duties did not afford him full
scope for proving his ability.
"Smuggling has almost ceased to exist, along here," he would say.
"I do not say that, across the harbour, something that way may not
still be done; for the facilities there are very much greater than
they are on this side. Still, my colleague there can have but
little trouble; for I keep a sharp lookout that no boat enters by
the passage south of the island without being searched. Of course,
one hears all sorts of absurd reports about cargoes being run; but
we know better, and I believe they are only set on foot to put our
officers from Swanage Westward, and beyond Christ Church down to
Hurst Castle, off their guard."
"No doubt, captain; no doubt," James Stansfield would agree.
"Still, I fancy that, although times are not what they were, it is
still possible to buy a keg of brandy, occasionally, or a few yards
of silk or lace, that have never paid duty."
"Yes, no doubt occasionally some small craft manages to run a few
kegs or bales; and unfortunately the gentry, instead of aiding his
majesty's representatives, keep the thing alive by purchasing
spirits, and so on, from those who have been concerned in their
landing."
"Well, you know, Captain Whittier, human nature is pretty strong.
If a pedlar comes along here with ribbons and fal-lals, and offers
them to the girls at half the price at which they could buy them
down at Poole, you can hardly expect them to take lofty ground, and
charge the man with having smuggled them."
"I do not think the young ladies are offenders that way," the
officer said, "for I have never yet seen them in foreign gear of
any sort. I should, if you will allow me to say so, be more
inclined, were you not a justice of the peace, to suspect you of
having dealings with these men; for your brandy is generally of the
best."
"I don't set up to be better than my neighbours, captain," the
squire said, with a laugh; "and if the chance comes my way, I will
not say that I should refuse to buy a good article, at the price I
should pay for a bad one in the town."
"Your tobacco is good, too, squire."
"Yes, I am particular about my tobacco, and I must say that I think
government lays too high a duty on it. If I had the making of the
laws, I would put a high duty on bad tobacco, and a low duty on a
good article; that would encourage the importation of good
wholesome stuff.
"I suppose you have heard no rumours of any suspicious looking
craft being heard of, off the coast?"
"No, I think that they carry on their business a good deal farther
to the west now. My post is becoming quite a sinecure. The
Henriette came into Poole this morning, but we never trouble about
her. She is a fair trader, and is well known at every port between
Portsmouth and Plymouth as such. She always comes in at daylight,
and lays her foresail aback till we board her, and send a couple of
men with her into Poole or Wareham. Her cargo is always consigned
to well-known merchants, at all the ports she enters; and consists
of wines, for the most part, though she does occasionally bring in
brandy.
"He is a fine young fellow, the skipper, Jean Martin. I believe his
father is a large wine merchant, at Nantes. I suppose you know him,
squire?"
"Yes, I have met him several times down in the town, and indeed
have bought many a barrel of wine of him. He has been up here more
than once, for I have told him, whenever he has anything
particularly good either in wine or spirits, to let me know. He
talks a little English, and my girls like to have a chat with him,
about what is going on on his side of the water. He offered, the
other day, to give Leigh a trip across to Nantes, if I was willing.
"Things seem to be going on very badly in Paris, by what he says;
but he does not anticipate any troubles in the west of France,
where there seems to be none of that ill feeling, between the
different classes, that there is in other parts."
The departure of Captain Whittier was always followed by a broad
smile on the faces of the elder boys, breaking occasionally into a
hearty laugh, in which the squire joined.
"I call him an insufferable ass," Ralph said, on this particular
evening. "It would be difficult, as father says, to find an officer
who is, as far as we are concerned, so admirably suited for his
position."
"That is so, Ralph. There is scarcely a man, woman, or child in
this part of Dorsetshire who does not know that there are more
goods run, on that piece of water over there, than on the whole
south coast of England. I sincerely trust that nothing will ever
bring about his recall. Personally, I would pay two or three
hundred a year, out of my own pocket, rather than lose him. There
is no such place anywhere for the work; why, there are some
fourteen or fifteen inlets where goods can be landed at high water
and, once past the island, I don't care how sharp the revenue men
may be, the betting is fifty to one against their being at the
right spot at the right time.
"If the passage between our point and the island were but a bit
wider, it would be perfect; but unfortunately it is so narrow that
it is only on the very darkest night one can hope to get through,
unnoticed. However, we can do very well with the southern channel
and, after all, it is safer. We can get any number of boats, and
the Henriette has only to anchor half a mile outside the entrance.
We know when she is coming, and have but to show a light, directly
she makes her signal, and the boats will put out from Radhorn
passage and Hamworth; while messengers start for Bushaw, and
Scopland, and Creach, and a dozen farmhouses, and the carts are
sure to be at the spot where they had been warned to assemble, by
the time the boats come along with the kegs; and everything is
miles away, in hiding, before morning.
"If it is a dark night the Henriette makes off again, and comes
boldly in the next afternoon. If one of the revenue boats, either
from here or Studland, happens to come across her before she gets
up anchor, there she is--the crew are all asleep, with the
exception of a man on watch; she is simply waiting to come in, when
there is light enough to enable her to make her way up the
passage."
James Stansfield was, in fact, the organizer of the smuggling
business carried on at Poole, and the adjacent harbours. There was
not a farmhouse, among the hills to the south of the great sheet of
water, with which he was not in communication. Winter was the
season at which the trade was most busy, for the short summer
nights were altogether unsuited for the work; and when the cold
weather drove the wildfowl in for shelter, there was splendid
shooting, and Ralph and John were able to combine amusement with
business, and to keep the larder well stocked.
The night signals were made from a cleft in the sand hills, half a
mile from the house; the light being so arranged that it could not
be seen from Brownsea Island, though visible to those on the south
side, from Studland right away over the hills to Corfe Castle, even
to Wareham. It was shown but for half a minute, just as the bells
of Poole Church struck nine. At that hour, when the lugger was
expected, there was a lookout at the door of every farmhouse and,
the moment the light was seen, preparations were made for the
landing at the spot of which notice had been given, by one or other
of the boys, on the previous day. Then, from quiet little inlets,
the boats would put off noiselessly, directly there was water to
float them; for it was only at high tides that the shallows were
covered. They would gather in the channel south of Brownsea, where
the boys and often their father would be in their boats in
readiness, until a momentary glimmer of a light, so placed on board
the lugger that it could only be seen from the spot where they were
awaiting it, showed the position of the craft and their readiness
to discharge cargo.
It was exciting work, and profitable; and so well was it managed
that, although it had been carried on for some years, no suspicion
had ever entered the minds of any of the revenue officers.
Sometimes many weeks would elapse between the visits of the lugger,
for she was obliged to make her appearance frequently at other
ports, to maintain her character as a trader; and was, as such,
well known all along the coast.
It was only a year since the Henriette had taken the place of
another lugger, that had previously carried on the work, but had
been wrecked on the French coast. She had been the property of the
same owner, or rather of the same firm; for Jean Martin, who had
been first mate on board the other craft, had invested some of his
own money in the Henriette, and assumed the command. It was
noticed, at Poole, that the Henriette used that port more
frequently than her predecessor had done; and indeed, she not
infrequently came in, in the daytime, with her hold as full as when
she had left Nantes.
It was on one of these occasions that Jean Martin, on coming up to
Netherstock, had a long talk with the squire.
"So you want my daughter Patsey?" the latter said, when his visitor
had told his story. "Well, it has certainly never entered my mind
that any of my girls should marry a Frenchman. I don't say that I
have not heard my boys making a sly joke, more than once, when the
Henriette was seen coming in, and I have seen the colour flying up
into the girl's face; but I only looked at it as boys' nonsense.
Still, I don't say that I am averse to your suit. We may be said to
be partners, in this trade of yours, and we both owe each other a
good deal. During the last eight years you must have run something
like forty cargoes, and never lost a keg or a bale; and I doubt if
as much could be said for any other craft in the trade.
"Still, one can't calculate on always being lucky. I don't think
anyone would turn traitor, when the whole countryside is interested
in the matter; and I wouldn't give much for the life of anyone who
whispered as much as a word to the revenue people. Still, accidents
will take place sometimes. Your father must have done well with the
trade, and so have I.
"At any rate, I will leave it in Patsey's hands. I have enough of
them, and to spare. And of course, you will be able to bring her
over, sometimes, to pay us a visit here.
"I think, too, that your offer of taking Leigh over with you helps
to decide me in your favour. They are all growing up and, if
anything were to put a stop to our business, this place would not
keep them all; and it would be a great thing, for Patsey, to have
her brother as a companion when you are away. The boy would learn
French, and in your father's business would get such a knowledge of
the trade with Nantes as should serve him in good stead. At any
rate, he will learn things that are a good deal more useful to him
than those he gets from the curate.
"Well, you know you will find her in the dairy, as usual. You had
better go and see what she says to it."
It is probable that Jean Martin had already a shrewd idea of what
Patsey's answer would be, and he presently returned to her father,
radiant. Patsey, indeed, had given her heart to the cheery young
sailor; and although it seemed to her a terrible thing, that she
should go to settle in France, she had the less objection to it,
inasmuch as the fear that the smuggling would be sooner or later
discovered, and that ruin might fall upon Netherstock, was ever
present in her mind, and in that of her elder sister.
To her brothers, engaged in the perilous business, it was regarded
as a pleasant excitement, without which their lives would be
intolerably dull. It was not that she or they regarded the matter
in the light of a crime, for almost everyone on that part of the
coast looked upon smuggling as a game, in which the wits of those
concerned in it were pitted against those of the revenue men. It
brought profit to all concerned, and although many of the gentry
found it convenient to express indignation, at the damage done to
the king's revenue by smuggling; there were none of them who
thought it necessary to mention, to the coast guard, when by some
accident a keg of brandy, or a parcel with a few pounds of prime
tobacco, was found in one of the outhouses.
Patsey had suffered more than her sister, being of a more lively
imagination, and being filled with alarm and anxiety whenever she
knew that her father and the boys were away at night. Then, too,
she was very fond of Leigh, and had built many castles in the air
as to his future; and the thought that, not only would he be with
her, but would be in the way of making his road to fortune, was
very pleasant to her. She knew that if he remained at Netherstock
he would grow up like his brothers. His father might, from time to
time, talk of putting him into some business; but she understood
his ways, and was certain that nothing would come of it.
Martin had, before, expressed to her his doubt as to whether her
father would consent to her going away with him; but she had no
fear on the subject. In his quiet, easygoing way he was fond of his
children; and would scarcely put himself out to oppose, vehemently,
anything on which they had set their hearts. He had, too, more than
once said that he wished some of them could be settled elsewhere;
for a time of trouble might come, and it would be well to have
other homes, where some of them could be received.
"Patsey has consented," Jean Martin said, joyously, as he rejoined
the squire.
"Well, that is all right. I think, myself, that it is for the best.
Of course, it must be understood that, in the matter of religion,
she is not to be forced or urged in any sort of way; but is to be
allowed to follow the religion in which she has been brought up."
"I would in no way press her, sir. We have Protestants in France,
just as there are Catholics here; though I must admit that there
are not many of them in La Vendee. Still, the days when people
quarrelled about religion are long since past; and certainly at
Nantes there is a Protestant congregation, though away in the
country they would be difficult to find. However, I promise you,
solemnly, that I will in no way try to influence her mind, nor that
of the boy. He will still, of course, look upon England as his
home, and I should even oppose any attempt being made to induce him
to join our church. You have plenty of Frenchmen in this country,
and no question as to their religion arises. It will be just the
same, with us."
Six weeks later, the Henriette returned. In her came Monsieur
Martin, whose presence as a witness of the ceremony was considered
advisable, if not absolutely necessary. He had, too, various
documents to sign in presence of the French consul, at Southampton,
giving his formal consent. The marriage was solemnized there at a
small Catholic chapel, and it was repeated at the parish church at
Poole, and the next day the party sailed for Nantes.
It was two months before the lugger again came in to Poole. When it
returned, it took with it the squire and Polly, to whom Monsieur
Martin had given a warm invitation to come over to see Patsey, in
her new home.
They found her well and happy. Monsieur Martin's house was in the
suburbs of Nantes. It had a large garden, at the end of which,
facing another street, stood a pretty little house that had been
generally used, either as the abode of aged mothers or unmarried
sisters of the family, or for an eldest son to take his wife to;
but which had now been handed over to Jean and his wife. This was
very pleasant for Patsey, as it united the privacy of a separate
abode with the cheerfulness of the family home. She had her own
servant, whose excellent cooking and, above all, whose scrupulous
cleanliness and tidiness, astonished her after the rough meals and
haphazard arrangements at Netherstock.
Whenever she felt dull during Jean's absences, she could run across
the garden for a talk with his mother and sister; at meals and in
the evening she had Leigh, who spent most of his time at the
cellars or in the counting house of Monsieur Martin; learning for
the first time habits of business, and applying himself eagerly to
acquiring the language.
The squire was put up at Monsieur Martin's, and Polly slept in the
one spare room at her sister's, all the party from the pavilion
going over to the house, to the midday meal and supper. The squire
and Polly were much pleased with their visit. It was evident that
Patsey had become a prime favourite with her husband's family.
Jean's sister Louise was assiduous in teaching her French, and she
had already begun to make some progress. Louise and her mother were
constantly running across to the little pavilion, on some errand or
other; and Patsey spent as much of her time with them as she did in
her own house.
Jean's absences seldom exceeded ten days, and he generally spent a
week at home before sailing again. He had driven her over to stay,
for three or four days, at a small estate of his own, some forty
miles to the southeast of Nantes, in the heart of what was called
the Bocage--a wild country, with thick woods, narrow lanes, high
hedges, and scattered villages and farms, much more English in
appearance than the country round Nantes. The estate had come to
him from an aunt. Everything here was very interesting to Patsey;
the costumes of the women and children, the instruments of
husbandry, the air of freedom and independence of the people, and
the absence of all ceremony, interested and pleased her. She did
not understand a single word of the patois spoken to her by the
peasants, and which even Jean had some difficulty in following,
although he had spent a good deal of his time at the little chateau
during the lifetime of his aunt.
"Should you like to live here, when not at sea, Jean?" asked
Patsey.
"Yes, I would rather live here than at Nantes. Next to a life at
sea, I should like one quite in the country. There is plenty to do
here. There is the work on the place to look after, there is
shooting, there is visiting, and visiting here means something
hearty, and not like the formal work in the town. Here no one
troubles his head over politics. They may quarrel as they like, in
Paris, but it does not concern La Vendee.
"Here the peasants love their masters, and the masters do all in
their power for the comfort and happiness of the peasants. It is
not as in many other parts of France, where the peasants hate the
nobles, and the nobles regard the peasants as dirt under their
feet. Here it is more like what I believe it was in England, when
you had your troubles, and the tenants followed their lords to
battle. At any rate, life here would be very preferable to being in
business with my father, in Nantes. I should never have settled
down to that; and as my elder brother seems specially made for that
sort of life, fortunately I was able to go my own way, to take to
the sea in the lugger, and become the carrier of the firm, while
taking my share in the general profits."
"How is it that your brother does not live at home? It would seem
natural that he should have had the pavilion, when he married."
"He likes going his own way," Jean said shortly. "As far as
business matters go, he and my father are as one; but in other
matters they differ widely. Jacques is always talking of reforms
and changes, while my father is quite content with things as they
are. Jacques has his own circle of friends, and would like to go to
Paris as a deputy, and to mix himself up in affairs.
"Though none of us cared for the lady that he chose as his wife,
she had money, and there was nothing to say against her,
personally. None of us ever took to her, and there was a general
feeling of relief when it was known that Jacques had taken a house
in the business quarter.
"He looks after the carrying business. Of course, my lugger does
but a very small proportion of it. We send up large quantities of
brandy to Tours, Orleans, and other towns on the Loire; and have
dealings with Brittany and Normandy, by sea, and with the Gironde.
He looks after that part of the business. My father does the buying
and directs the counting house. Though my art is a very inferior
one, I have no reason to complain of my share of the profits."
The first eighteen months of Patsey's married life passed quietly
and happily. She could now speak French fluently and, having made
several stays at the country chateau, could make herself understood
in the patois. Leigh spoke French as well as English. Fortunately
he had picked up a little before leaving home, partly from his
tutor, partly from endeavouring to talk with French fishermen and
sailors who came into Poole. He frequently made trips in the
Henriette, sometimes to Havre and Rouen, at others to Bordeaux. He
had grown much, and was now a very strong, active lad. He got on
very well with Monsieur Martin; but kept as much apart as he could
from his eldest son, for whom he felt a deep personal dislike, and
who had always disapproved of Jean's marriage to an Englishwoman.
Jacques Martin was the strongest contrast to his brother. He was
methodical and sententious, expressed his opinion on all subjects
with the air of a man whose judgment was infallible, and was an
ardent disciple of Voltaire and Rousseau. It was very seldom that
he entered his father's house, where his opinions on religious
subjects shocked and horrified his mother and sister. He lived with
an entirely different set, and spent most of his time at the clubs
which, in imitation of those of Paris, had sprung up all over the
country.
"What is all the excitement about, Jean?" Leigh asked his
brother-in-law, one evening. "There are always fellows standing on
casks or bales of timber along the wharf, shouting and waving their
arms about and, sometimes, reading letters or printed papers; and
then those who listen to them shout and throw up their caps, and
get into a tremendous state of excitement."
"They are telling the others what is being done at the Assembly."
"And what are they doing there, Jean?"
"They are turning things upside down."
"And is that good?"
"Well, there is no doubt that things are not as well managed as
they might be, and that there is a great deal of distress and
misery. In some parts of France the taxation has been very heavy,
and the extravagance of the court has excited an immense deal of
anger. It is not the fault of the present king, who is a quiet
fellow, and does not care for show or pageants; but it is rather
the fault of the kings who preceded him, especially of Louis the
Fourteenth--who was a great monarch, no doubt, but a very expensive
one to his subjects, and whose wars cost an enormous sum.
"You see it is not, in France, as it is with you. The nobles here
have great power. Their tenants and serfs--for they are still
nothing but serfs--are at the mercy of their lords, who may flog
them and throw them into prison, almost at their pleasure; and will
grind the last sou out of them, that they may cut a good figure at
court.
"In this part of France things are more as they are in England. The
nobles and seigneurs are like your country gentlemen. They live in
their chateaux, they mix with their people and take an interest in
them, they go to their fetes, and the ladies visit the sick, and in
all respects they live as do your country squires; paying a visit
for a few weeks each year to Paris, and spending the rest of their
time on their estates. But it is not from the country that the
members of the Assembly who are the most urgent for reforms and
violent in their speech come, but from the towns. There were two
writers, Voltaire and Rousseau, who have done enormous mischief.
Both of them perceived that the state of things was wrong; but they
went to extremes, made fun of the church, and attacked institutions
of all sorts. Their writings are read by everyone, and have shaken
people's faith in God, and in all things as they are.
"I do not say that much improvement could not be made, but it will
never be made by sudden and great changes, nor by men such as those
who are gradually gaining the upper hand in the Assembly. The
people ought to have a much stronger voice than they have in their
own taxation. They see that, in England, the ministers and
parliament manage everything; and that the king--although his
influence goes for a good deal, and he can change his ministers as
often as he likes--must yet bow to the voice of parliament. I think
that that is reasonable; but when it comes to a parliament composed
largely of mere agitators and spouters, I, for my part, would
rather be ruled by a king."
"But what is it that these people want, Jean?"
"I do not think they know in the least, themselves, beyond the fact
that they want all the power; that they want to destroy the
nobility, overthrow the church, and lay hands on the property of
all who are more wealthy than themselves. Naturally the lowest
classes of the towns, who are altogether ignorant, believe that by
supporting these men, and by pulling down all above them, it would
no longer be necessary to work. They want to divide the estates of
the nobles, take a share of the wealth of the traders, and of the
better class of all sorts; in fact they would turn everything
topsy-turvy, render the poor all powerful, and tread all that is
good and noble under their feet. The consequence is that the king
is virtually a prisoner in the hands of the mob of Paris, the
nobles and better classes are leaving the country, thousands of
these have already been massacred, and no one can say how matters
will end.
"Here in Nantes there is, as you see, a feeling of excitement and
unrest; and though as yet there has been no violence, no one could
venture to predict what may take place, if the moderate men in the
Assembly are outvoted by the extremists, and all power falls into
the hands of the latter. But I still hope that common sense will
prevail, in the long run. I regard the present as a temporary
madness, and trust that France will come to her senses, and that we
shall have the satisfaction of seeing the scoundrels, who are now
the leaders of the mob of Paris, receive the punishment they
deserve.
"However, as far as we are concerned I have no uneasiness for, if
troubles break out at Nantes, we can retire to my chateau, in the
thickest and most wooded part of La Vendee, where there is no fear
that the peasants will ever rise against their masters."