No Surrender! A Tale of the Rising in La Vendee

  Produced by Martin Robb

  No Surrender!A Tale Of The Rising in La Vendeeby G. A. Henty.

  Contents

  Preface.Chapter 1: A French Lugger.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 heroicbravery and firmness than that afforded by the people of theprovince of Poitou, and more especially of that portion of it knownas La Vendee, in the defence of their religion and their rights asfree men. At the commencement of the struggle they were almostunarmed, and the subsequent battles were fought by the aid ofmuskets and cannon wrested from the enemy. With the exception ofits forests, La Vendee offered no natural advantages for defence.It had no mountains, such as those which enabled the Swiss tomaintain their independence; no rivers which would bar the advanceof an enemy; and although the woods and thickets of the Bocage, asit was called, favoured the action of the irregular troops, thesedo not seem to have been utilized as they might have been, theprincipal engagements of the war being fought on open ground. Foreighteen months the peasants of La Vendee, in spite of the factthat they had no idea of submitting either to drill or discipline,repulsed the efforts of forces commanded by the best generalsFrance could furnish; and which grew, after every defeat, until atlength armies numbering, in all, over two hundred thousand men werecollected to crush La Vendee.

  The losses on both sides were enormous. La Vendee was almostdepopulated; and the Republicans paid dearly, indeed, for theirtriumph, no fewer than one hundred thousand men having fallen, ontheir side. La Vendee was crushed, but never surrendered. Had theBritish government been properly informed, by its agents, of thedesperate nature of the struggle that was going on; they might, bythrowing twenty thousand troops, with supplies of stores and moneyinto La Vendee, have changed the whole course of events; havecrushed the Republic, given France a monarch, and thus sparedEurope over twenty years of devastating warfare, the expenditure ofenormous 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 lowline of sandy hill is broken by the entrance into Poole Harbour,stood, in 1791, Netherstock; which, with a small estate around, wasthe property of Squire Stansfield. The view was an extensive one,when the weather was clear. Away to the left lay the pine forestsof Bournemouth and Christ Church and, still farther seaward, thecliffs of the Isle of Wight, from Totland Bay as far as SaintCatherine Point. Close at hand to the south was Studland Bay,bounded by Handfast Point. Looking towards the right was a greatsheet of shallow water, for the most part dry at low tide, known asPoole and Wareham Harbours, with its numerous creeks and bays.

  Netherstock was an old house, with many nooks and corners. Thesquire was a justice of the peace but, unless there was somespecial business on, he seldom took his place on the bench. He wasa jovial man, who took life easily. He was popular among hisneighbours, especially among the poorer classes; for whom he hadalways a pleasant word, as he rode along; and who, in case ofillness, 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 howJames Stansfield made both ends meet. The family had, for two orthree generations, been of a similar temperament to that of thepresent holder; men who spent their money freely, and were sure tobe present whenever there was a horse race, or a main of cocks tobe fought, or a prizefight to come off, within a day's ride ofNetherstock. Gradually, farm after farm had been parted with; andthe estate now was smaller, by half, than it had been at thebeginning 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 anexpensive one, seeing that little was spent upon the fashion oftheir clothes; and beyond the fact that the curate in charge of thelittle church in the village of Netherstock came over, everymorning for two or three hours, to give the boys and girls theelements of education, they went very much their own way. Mrs.Stansfield had died, five years before this. Polly, the eldestgirl, aged twenty, acted as mistress of the house. Next to her, atintervals of little more than a year, came Ralph and John; twostrongly built young fellows, both fearless riders and good at allrustic games. What supervision the farm work got was given by them.

  Patsey, the second girl, was generally admitted to be the flower ofthe Stansfields. She was bright, pretty, and good tempered. She wasin charge of the dairy, and the Netherstock butter was famousthrough the country round, and always fetched top prices at themarket. The youngest of the family was Leigh, who was now fourteen.He was less heavily built than his brothers, but their tutordeclared that he was the quickest and most intelligent of hispupils; and that, if he had but a chance, he would turn out a fineyoung fellow.

  The boys were all fond of boating and sailing, which was naturalenough, as the sea washed two sides of the estate. They had twoboats. One of these lay hauled up on the sands, a mile to the eastof the entrance to the harbour. She was a good sea boat and, whenwork was slack about the place, which indeed was the normal stateof things, they would often sail to Weymouth to the west, oreastward to Yarmouth or Lymington, sometimes even to Portsmouth.The other boat, which was also large, but of very shallow draughtof water, lay inside the entrance to the harbour; and in her theycould go either north or south of Brownsea Island, and shoot orfish in the many inlets and bays. There were few who knew everyfoot of the great sheet of water as they did, and they could tellthe precise time of the tide at which the channels were deep enoughfor boats drawing from two to three feet of water.

  The most frequent visitor to Netherstock was Lieutenant, or, as hewas called in courtesy, Captain Whittier, the officer in command ofthe coast guard station between Poole and Christ Church; hisprincipal station being opposite Brownsea Island, the narrowestpoint of the entrance to the harbour. He was a somewhat fussylittle officer, with a great idea of the importance of his duties,mingled with a regret that these duties did not afford him fullscope 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 notstill be done; for the facilities there are very much greater thanthey are on this side. Still, my colleague there can have butlittle trouble; for I keep a sharp lookout that no boat enters bythe passage south of the island without being searched. Of course,one hears all sorts of absurd reports about cargoes being run; butwe know better, and I believe they are only set on foot to put ourofficers from Swanage Westward, and beyond Christ Church down toHurst 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 isstill possible to buy a keg of brandy, occasionally, or
a few yardsof silk or lace, that have never paid duty."

  "Yes, no doubt occasionally some small craft manages to run a fewkegs or bales; and unfortunately the gentry, instead of aiding hismajesty's representatives, keep the thing alive by purchasingspirits, and so on, from those who have been concerned in theirlanding."

  "Well, you know, Captain Whittier, human nature is pretty strong.If a pedlar comes along here with ribbons and fal-lals, and offersthem to the girls at half the price at which they could buy themdown at Poole, you can hardly expect them to take lofty ground, andcharge the man with having smuggled them."

  "I do not think the young ladies are offenders that way," theofficer said, "for I have never yet seen them in foreign gear ofany sort. I should, if you will allow me to say so, be moreinclined, were you not a justice of the peace, to suspect you ofhaving dealings with these men; for your brandy is generally of thebest."

  "I don't set up to be better than my neighbours, captain," thesquire said, with a laugh; "and if the chance comes my way, I willnot say that I should refuse to buy a good article, at the price Ishould 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 thinkgovernment lays too high a duty on it. If I had the making of thelaws, I would put a high duty on bad tobacco, and a low duty on agood article; that would encourage the importation of goodwholesome stuff.

  "I suppose you have heard no rumours of any suspicious lookingcraft being heard of, off the coast?"

  "No, I think that they carry on their business a good deal fartherto the west now. My post is becoming quite a sinecure. TheHenriette came into Poole this morning, but we never trouble abouther. She is a fair trader, and is well known at every port betweenPortsmouth and Plymouth as such. She always comes in at daylight,and lays her foresail aback till we board her, and send a couple ofmen with her into Poole or Wareham. Her cargo is always consignedto well-known merchants, at all the ports she enters; and consistsof wines, for the most part, though she does occasionally bring inbrandy.

  "He is a fine young fellow, the skipper, Jean Martin. I believe hisfather 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 indeedhave bought many a barrel of wine of him. He has been up here morethan once, for I have told him, whenever he has anythingparticularly good either in wine or spirits, to let me know. Hetalks 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, theother 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 thedifferent classes, that there is in other parts."

  The departure of Captain Whittier was always followed by a broadsmile on the faces of the elder boys, breaking occasionally into ahearty laugh, in which the squire joined.

  "I call him an insufferable ass," Ralph said, on this particularevening. "It would be difficult, as father says, to find an officerwho is, as far as we are concerned, so admirably suited for hisposition."

  "That is so, Ralph. There is scarcely a man, woman, or child inthis part of Dorsetshire who does not know that there are moregoods run, on that piece of water over there, than on the wholesouth coast of England. I sincerely trust that nothing will everbring about his recall. Personally, I would pay two or threehundred a year, out of my own pocket, rather than lose him. Thereis no such place anywhere for the work; why, there are somefourteen or fifteen inlets where goods can be landed at high waterand, once past the island, I don't care how sharp the revenue menmay be, the betting is fifty to one against their being at theright spot at the right time.

  "If the passage between our point and the island were but a bitwider, it would be perfect; but unfortunately it is so narrow thatit is only on the very darkest night one can hope to get through,unnoticed. However, we can do very well with the southern channeland, after all, it is safer. We can get any number of boats, andthe Henriette has only to anchor half a mile outside the entrance.We know when she is coming, and have but to show a light, directlyshe makes her signal, and the boats will put out from Radhornpassage and Hamworth; while messengers start for Bushaw, andScopland, and Creach, and a dozen farmhouses, and the carts aresure to be at the spot where they had been warned to assemble, bythe time the boats come along with the kegs; and everything ismiles away, in hiding, before morning.

  "If it is a dark night the Henriette makes off again, and comesboldly in the next afternoon. If one of the revenue boats, eitherfrom here or Studland, happens to come across her before she getsup anchor, there she is--the crew are all asleep, with theexception of a man on watch; she is simply waiting to come in, whenthere is light enough to enable her to make her way up thepassage."

  James Stansfield was, in fact, the organizer of the smugglingbusiness carried on at Poole, and the adjacent harbours. There wasnot a farmhouse, among the hills to the south of the great sheet ofwater, with which he was not in communication. Winter was theseason at which the trade was most busy, for the short summernights were altogether unsuited for the work; and when the coldweather drove the wildfowl in for shelter, there was splendidshooting, and Ralph and John were able to combine amusement withbusiness, and to keep the larder well stocked.

  The night signals were made from a cleft in the sand hills, half amile from the house; the light being so arranged that it could notbe seen from Brownsea Island, though visible to those on the southside, from Studland right away over the hills to Corfe Castle, evento Wareham. It was shown but for half a minute, just as the bellsof Poole Church struck nine. At that hour, when the lugger wasexpected, there was a lookout at the door of every farmhouse and,the moment the light was seen, preparations were made for thelanding at the spot of which notice had been given, by one or otherof the boys, on the previous day. Then, from quiet little inlets,the boats would put off noiselessly, directly there was water tofloat them; for it was only at high tides that the shallows werecovered. They would gather in the channel south of Brownsea, wherethe boys and often their father would be in their boats inreadiness, until a momentary glimmer of a light, so placed on boardthe lugger that it could only be seen from the spot where they wereawaiting it, showed the position of the craft and their readinessto discharge cargo.

  It was exciting work, and profitable; and so well was it managedthat, although it had been carried on for some years, no suspicionhad 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 otherports, 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 ofanother lugger, that had previously carried on the work, but hadbeen wrecked on the French coast. She had been the property of thesame owner, or rather of the same firm; for Jean Martin, who hadbeen first mate on board the other craft, had invested some of hisown money in the Henriette, and assumed the command. It wasnoticed, at Poole, that the Henriette used that port morefrequently than her predecessor had done; and indeed, she notinfrequently came in, in the daytime, with her hold as full as whenshe had left Nantes.

  It was on one of these occasions that Jean Martin, on coming up toNetherstock, had a long talk with the squire.

  "So you want my daughter Patsey?" the latter said, when his visitorhad told his story. "Well, it has certainly never entered my mindthat any of my girls should marry a Frenchman. I don't say that Ihave not heard my boys making a sly joke, more than once, when theHenriette was seen coming in, and I have seen the colour flying upinto 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 tobe partners, in this trade of yours, and we both owe each other agood deal. During the last eight year
s you must have run somethinglike forty cargoes, and never lost a keg or a bale; and I doubt ifas much could be said for any other craft in the trade.

  "Still, one can't calculate on always being lucky. I don't thinkanyone would turn traitor, when the whole countryside is interestedin the matter; and I wouldn't give much for the life of anyone whowhispered as much as a word to the revenue people. Still, accidentswill take place sometimes. Your father must have done well with thetrade, and so have I.

  "At any rate, I will leave it in Patsey's hands. I have enough ofthem, and to spare. And of course, you will be able to bring herover, sometimes, to pay us a visit here.

  "I think, too, that your offer of taking Leigh over with you helpsto decide me in your favour. They are all growing up and, ifanything were to put a stop to our business, this place would notkeep them all; and it would be a great thing, for Patsey, to haveher brother as a companion when you are away. The boy would learnFrench, and in your father's business would get such a knowledge ofthe trade with Nantes as should serve him in good stead. At anyrate, he will learn things that are a good deal more useful to himthan those he gets from the curate.

  "Well, you know you will find her in the dairy, as usual. You hadbetter go and see what she says to it."

  It is probable that Jean Martin had already a shrewd idea of whatPatsey's answer would be, and he presently returned to her father,radiant. Patsey, indeed, had given her heart to the cheery youngsailor; and although it seemed to her a terrible thing, that sheshould go to settle in France, she had the less objection to it,inasmuch as the fear that the smuggling would be sooner or laterdiscovered, and that ruin might fall upon Netherstock, was everpresent in her mind, and in that of her elder sister.

  To her brothers, engaged in the perilous business, it was regardedas a pleasant excitement, without which their lives would beintolerably dull. It was not that she or they regarded the matterin the light of a crime, for almost everyone on that part of thecoast looked upon smuggling as a game, in which the wits of thoseconcerned in it were pitted against those of the revenue men. Itbrought profit to all concerned, and although many of the gentryfound it convenient to express indignation, at the damage done tothe king's revenue by smuggling; there were none of them whothought it necessary to mention, to the coast guard, when by someaccident a keg of brandy, or a parcel with a few pounds of primetobacco, was found in one of the outhouses.

  Patsey had suffered more than her sister, being of a more livelyimagination, and being filled with alarm and anxiety whenever sheknew 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 airas to his future; and the thought that, not only would he be withher, but would be in the way of making his road to fortune, wasvery pleasant to her. She knew that if he remained at Netherstockhe would grow up like his brothers. His father might, from time totime, talk of putting him into some business; but she understoodhis ways, and was certain that nothing would come of it.

  Martin had, before, expressed to her his doubt as to whether herfather would consent to her going away with him; but she had nofear on the subject. In his quiet, easygoing way he was fond of hischildren; and would scarcely put himself out to oppose, vehemently,anything on which they had set their hearts. He had, too, more thanonce said that he wished some of them could be settled elsewhere;for a time of trouble might come, and it would be well to haveother homes, where some of them could be received.

  "Patsey has consented," Jean Martin said, joyously, as he rejoinedthe 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 beallowed 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 thereare not many of them in La Vendee. Still, the days when peoplequarrelled about religion are long since past; and certainly atNantes there is a Protestant congregation, though away in thecountry they would be difficult to find. However, I promise you,solemnly, that I will in no way try to influence her mind, nor thatof the boy. He will still, of course, look upon England as hishome, and I should even oppose any attempt being made to induce himto join our church. You have plenty of Frenchmen in this country,and no question as to their religion arises. It will be just thesame, with us."

  Six weeks later, the Henriette returned. In her came MonsieurMartin, whose presence as a witness of the ceremony was consideredadvisable, if not absolutely necessary. He had, too, variousdocuments to sign in presence of the French consul, at Southampton,giving his formal consent. The marriage was solemnized there at asmall Catholic chapel, and it was repeated at the parish church atPoole, and the next day the party sailed for Nantes.

  It was two months before the lugger again came in to Poole. When itreturned, it took with it the squire and Polly, to whom MonsieurMartin had given a warm invitation to come over to see Patsey, inher new home.

  They found her well and happy. Monsieur Martin's house was in thesuburbs of Nantes. It had a large garden, at the end of which,facing another street, stood a pretty little house that had beengenerally used, either as the abode of aged mothers or unmarriedsisters 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 wasvery pleasant for Patsey, as it united the privacy of a separateabode with the cheerfulness of the family home. She had her ownservant, whose excellent cooking and, above all, whose scrupulouscleanliness and tidiness, astonished her after the rough meals andhaphazard arrangements at Netherstock.

  Whenever she felt dull during Jean's absences, she could run acrossthe garden for a talk with his mother and sister; at meals and inthe evening she had Leigh, who spent most of his time at thecellars or in the counting house of Monsieur Martin; learning forthe first time habits of business, and applying himself eagerly toacquiring the language.

  The squire was put up at Monsieur Martin's, and Polly slept in theone spare room at her sister's, all the party from the paviliongoing over to the house, to the midday meal and supper. The squireand Polly were much pleased with their visit. It was evident thatPatsey had become a prime favourite with her husband's family.Jean's sister Louise was assiduous in teaching her French, and shehad already begun to make some progress. Louise and her mother wereconstantly running across to the little pavilion, on some errand orother; and Patsey spent as much of her time with them as she did inher own house.

  Jean's absences seldom exceeded ten days, and he generally spent aweek 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 fortymiles to the southeast of Nantes, in the heart of what was calledthe Bocage--a wild country, with thick woods, narrow lanes, highhedges, and scattered villages and farms, much more English inappearance than the country round Nantes. The estate had come tohim from an aunt. Everything here was very interesting to Patsey;the costumes of the women and children, the instruments ofhusbandry, the air of freedom and independence of the people, andthe absence of all ceremony, interested and pleased her. She didnot understand a single word of the patois spoken to her by thepeasants, and which even Jean had some difficulty in following,although he had spent a good deal of his time at the little chateauduring the lifetime of his aunt.

  "Should you like to live here, when not at sea, Jean?" askedPatsey.

  "Yes, I would rather live here than at Nantes. Next to a life atsea, I should like one quite in the country. There is plenty to dohere. There is the work on the place to look after, there isshooting, there is visiting, and visiting here means somethinghearty, and not like the formal work in the town. Here no onetroubles his head over politics. They may quarrel as they like, inParis, but it does not concern La Vendee.

  "Here the peasants love their masters, and the masters do all intheir power for the comfort and happiness of the peasants. It isnot as
in many other parts of France, where the peasants hate thenobles, and the nobles regard the peasants as dirt under theirfeet. Here it is more like what I believe it was in England, whenyou had your troubles, and the tenants followed their lords tobattle. At any rate, life here would be very preferable to being inbusiness with my father, in Nantes. I should never have settleddown to that; and as my elder brother seems specially made for thatsort of life, fortunately I was able to go my own way, to take tothe sea in the lugger, and become the carrier of the firm, whiletaking my share in the general profits."

  "How is it that your brother does not live at home? It would seemnatural that he should have had the pavilion, when he married."

  "He likes going his own way," Jean said shortly. "As far asbusiness matters go, he and my father are as one; but in othermatters they differ widely. Jacques is always talking of reformsand changes, while my father is quite content with things as theyare. Jacques has his own circle of friends, and would like to go toParis 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 generalfeeling of relief when it was known that Jacques had taken a housein the business quarter.

  "He looks after the carrying business. Of course, my lugger doesbut a very small proportion of it. We send up large quantities ofbrandy to Tours, Orleans, and other towns on the Loire; and havedealings with Brittany and Normandy, by sea, and with the Gironde.He looks after that part of the business. My father does the buyingand directs the counting house. Though my art is a very inferiorone, I have no reason to complain of my share of the profits."

  The first eighteen months of Patsey's married life passed quietlyand happily. She could now speak French fluently and, having madeseveral stays at the country chateau, could make herself understoodin the patois. Leigh spoke French as well as English. Fortunatelyhe had picked up a little before leaving home, partly from histutor, partly from endeavouring to talk with French fishermen andsailors who came into Poole. He frequently made trips in theHenriette, sometimes to Havre and Rouen, at others to Bordeaux. Hehad grown much, and was now a very strong, active lad. He got onvery well with Monsieur Martin; but kept as much apart as he couldfrom his eldest son, for whom he felt a deep personal dislike, andwho had always disapproved of Jean's marriage to an Englishwoman.

  Jacques Martin was the strongest contrast to his brother. He wasmethodical and sententious, expressed his opinion on all subjectswith the air of a man whose judgment was infallible, and was anardent disciple of Voltaire and Rousseau. It was very seldom thathe entered his father's house, where his opinions on religioussubjects shocked and horrified his mother and sister. He lived withan entirely different set, and spent most of his time at the clubswhich, in imitation of those of Paris, had sprung up all over thecountry.

  "What is all the excitement about, Jean?" Leigh asked hisbrother-in-law, one evening. "There are always fellows standing oncasks or bales of timber along the wharf, shouting and waving theirarms about and, sometimes, reading letters or printed papers; andthen those who listen to them shout and throw up their caps, andget 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 asthey might be, and that there is a great deal of distress andmisery. In some parts of France the taxation has been very heavy,and the extravagance of the court has excited an immense deal ofanger. It is not the fault of the present king, who is a quietfellow, and does not care for show or pageants; but it is ratherthe fault of the kings who preceded him, especially of Louis theFourteenth--who was a great monarch, no doubt, but a very expensiveone to his subjects, and whose wars cost an enormous sum.

  "You see it is not, in France, as it is with you. The nobles herehave great power. Their tenants and serfs--for they are stillnothing but serfs--are at the mercy of their lords, who may flogthem and throw them into prison, almost at their pleasure; and willgrind the last sou out of them, that they may cut a good figure atcourt.

  "In this part of France things are more as they are in England. Thenobles and seigneurs are like your country gentlemen. They live intheir chateaux, they mix with their people and take an interest inthem, they go to their fetes, and the ladies visit the sick, and inall respects they live as do your country squires; paying a visitfor a few weeks each year to Paris, and spending the rest of theirtime on their estates. But it is not from the country that themembers of the Assembly who are the most urgent for reforms andviolent in their speech come, but from the towns. There were twowriters, Voltaire and Rousseau, who have done enormous mischief.Both of them perceived that the state of things was wrong; but theywent to extremes, made fun of the church, and attacked institutionsof all sorts. Their writings are read by everyone, and have shakenpeople's faith in God, and in all things as they are.

  "I do not say that much improvement could not be made, but it willnever be made by sudden and great changes, nor by men such as thosewho are gradually gaining the upper hand in the Assembly. Thepeople ought to have a much stronger voice than they have in theirown taxation. They see that, in England, the ministers andparliament manage everything; and that the king--although hisinfluence goes for a good deal, and he can change his ministers asoften as he likes--must yet bow to the voice of parliament. I thinkthat that is reasonable; but when it comes to a parliament composedlargely of mere agitators and spouters, I, for my part, wouldrather 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 factthat they want all the power; that they want to destroy thenobility, overthrow the church, and lay hands on the property ofall who are more wealthy than themselves. Naturally the lowestclasses of the towns, who are altogether ignorant, believe that bysupporting these men, and by pulling down all above them, it wouldno longer be necessary to work. They want to divide the estates ofthe nobles, take a share of the wealth of the traders, and of thebetter class of all sorts; in fact they would turn everythingtopsy-turvy, render the poor all powerful, and tread all that isgood and noble under their feet. The consequence is that the kingis virtually a prisoner in the hands of the mob of Paris, thenobles and better classes are leaving the country, thousands ofthese have already been massacred, and no one can say how matterswill end.

  "Here in Nantes there is, as you see, a feeling of excitement andunrest; and though as yet there has been no violence, no one couldventure to predict what may take place, if the moderate men in theAssembly are outvoted by the extremists, and all power falls intothe hands of the latter. But I still hope that common sense willprevail, in the long run. I regard the present as a temporarymadness, and trust that France will come to her senses, and that weshall have the satisfaction of seeing the scoundrels, who are nowthe leaders of the mob of Paris, receive the punishment theydeserve.

  "However, as far as we are concerned I have no uneasiness for, iftroubles break out at Nantes, we can retire to my chateau, in thethickest and most wooded part of La Vendee, where there is no fearthat the peasants will ever rise against their masters."