"Yes, indeed, with a beak and talons."
"We shall see."
"Yes," replied Vieuville, "it is time there was a leader. I agree with
Tinténiac,--a leader and gunpowder! See here, commander, I know nearly
all the possible and impossible leaders,--those of yesterday, those of
to-day, and those of to-morrow. Not one of them has the head required
for war. In this cursed Vendée a general is needed who would be a
lawyer as well as a leader. He must harass the enemy, dispute every
bush, ditch, and stone; he must force unlucky quarrels upon him, and
take advantage of everything; vigilant and pitiless, he must watch
incessantly, slaughter freely, and make examples. Now, in this army of
peasants there are heroes, but no captains. D'Elbée is a nonentity,
Lescure an invalid; Bonchamps is merciful,--he is kind, and that
implies folly; La Rochejaquelein is a superb sub-lieutenant; Silz is an
officer good for the open field, but not suited for a war that needs a
man of expedients; Cathelineau is a simple teamster; Stofflet is a
crafty game-keeper; Bérard is inefficient; Boulainvillers is absurd;
Charette is horrible. I make no mention of Gaston the barber.
Mordemonbleu! what is the use of opposing revolution, and what is the
difference between ourselves and the republicans, if we set barbers
over the heads of noblemen! The fact is, that this beastly revolution
has contaminated all of us."
"It is the itch of France."
"It is the itch of the Tiers état," rejoined Boisberthelot. "England
alone can help us."
"And she will, captain, undoubtedly."
"Meanwhile it is an ugly state of affairs."
"Yes,--rustics everywhere. A monarchy that has Stofflet, the
game-keeper of M. de Maulevrier, for a commander has no reason to envy
a republic whose minister is Pache, the son of the Duke de Castries'
porter. What men this Vendean war brings face to face.--on one side
Santerre the brewer; on the other Gaston the hairdresser!"
"My dear La Vieuville, I feel some respect for this Gaston. He behaved
well in his command of Guéménée. He had three hundred Blues neatly
shot after making them dig their own graves."
"Well enough done; but I could have done quite as well as he."
"Pardieu, to be sure; and I too."
"The great feats of war," said Vieuville, "require noble blood in those
who perform them. These are matters for knights, and not for
hairdressers."
"But yet there are estimable men in this 'Third Estate,'" rejoined
Vieuville. "Take that watchmaker, Joly, for instance. He was formerly
a sergeant in a Flanders regiment; he becomes a Vendean chief and
commander of a coast band. He has a son, a republican; and while the
father serves in the ranks of the Whites, the son serves in those of
the Blues. An encounter, a battle: the father captures the son and
blows out his brains."
"He did well," said La Vieuville.
"A royalist Brutus," answered Boisberthelot. "Nevertheless, it is
unendurable to be under the command of a Coquereau, a Jean-Jean, a
Moulin, a Focart, a Bouju, a Chouppes!"
"My dear chevalier, the opposite party is quite as indignant. We are
crowded with plebeians; they have an excess of nobles. Do you think
the sansculottes like to be commanded by the Count de Canclaux, the
Viscount de Miranda, the Viscount de Beauharnais, the Count de Valence,
the Marquis de Custine, and the Duke de Biron?"
"What a combination!"
"And the Duke de Chartres!"
"Son of Egalité. By the way, when will he be king?"
"Never!"
"He aspires to the throne, and his very crimes serve to promote his
interests."
"And his vices will injure his cause," said Boisberthelot.