order to the detachment.-The alarm turned out to be a false one.

to the agony of another removal. At length, they were landed on the opposite bank; where wretchedness and desolation appeared still more conspicuous. Thousands of helpless wretches were lying on the grassy shore, or roaming about in search of the friends from whom they had been divided. There was a general complaint of cold and hunger; and nobody in a condition to give any directions, or administer any relief. M. de L. suffered excruciating pain from the piercing air which blew upon his feverish frame;-the poor infant screamed for food, and the helpless mother was left to minister to both;-while her attendant went among the burnt and ruined villages, to seek a drop of milk for the baby. At length they got again in motion for the adjoining village of Varades,-M. de L., borne in a sort of chair upon the pikes of his soldiers, with his wife and the maid-servant walking before him, and supporting his legs, wrapped up in their cloaks. With great difficulty they procured a little room, in a cottage swarming with soldiers,-most of them famishing for want of food, and yet still so mindful of the rights of their neighbours, that they would not take a few potatoes from the garden of the cottage, till Madame de L. had obtained leave of the proprietor.

At Laval they halted for several days; and he was so much recruited by the repose, that he was able to get for half an hour on horseback, and seemed to be fairly in the way of recovery; when his excessive zeal, and anxiety for the good behaviour of the troops, tempted him to premature exertions, from the consequences of which he never afterwards recovered. The troops being all collected and refreshed at Laval, it was resolved to turn upon their pursuers, and give battle to the advancing army of the republic. The conflict was sanguinary; but ended most decidedly in favour of the Vendeans. The first encounter was in the night,-and was characterized with more than the usual confusion of night attacks. The two armies crossed each other in so extraordinary a manner, that the artillery of each was supplied, for a part of the battle, from the caissons of the enemy; and one of the Vendean leaders, after exposing himself to great hazard in helping a brother officer, as he took him to be, out of a ditch, discovered, by the next flash of the cannon, that he was an enemy-and immediately cut him down. After daybreak, the battle became more orderly, and ended in a complete victory. This was the last grand crisis of the insurrection. The way to La Vendée was once more open; and the fugitives had it in their power to return triumphant to their fastnesses and their homes, after rousing Brittany by the example of their valour and success. M. de L. and Henri both inclined to this course; but other counsels prevailed. Some were for marching on to Nantes-others for proceeding to Rennes-and some, more sanguine than the rest, for pushing directly for Paris. Time was irretrievably lost in these deliberations; and the republicans had leisure to rally, and bring up their reinforcements, before any thing was definitively settled.

In the meantime, M. de L. became visibly worse; and one morning, when his wife alone was in the room, he called her to him, and told her that he felt his death was at hand;

M. de Bonchamp died as they were taking him out of the boat; and it became necessary to elect another commander. M. de L. roused himself to recommend Henri de Larochejaquelein; and he was immediately appointed. When the election was announced to him, M. de L. desired to see and congratulate his valiant cousin. He was already weeping over him in a dark corner of the room; and now came to express his hopes that he should soon be superseded by his recovery. "No," said M. de L., "that I believe is out of the question: But even if I were to recover, I should never take the place you have now obtained, and should be proud to serve as your aid-de-camp."- The day after, they advanced towards Rennes. M. de L. could find no other conveyance than a baggage-waggon; at every jolt of which he suffered such anguish, as to draw forth the most piercing shrieks even from his manly bosom. After some time, an old chaise was discovered a piece of artillery was thrown away to supply it with horses, and the wounded general was laid in it, his head being supported in the lap of Agatha, his mother's faithful waiting-woman, and now or unkindness he might ever have shown her. the only attendant of his wife and infant. He added many other expressions of tenderIn three painful days they reached Laval;-ness and consolation; and seeing her overMadame de L. frequently suffering from whelmed with anguish at the despairing tone absolute want, and sometimes getting noth-in which he spoke, concluded by saying, that ing to eat the whole day, but one or two sour he might perhaps be mistaken in his progapples. M. de L. was nearly insensible du- nosis;-and hoped still to live for her. Next ring the whole journey. He was roused but day they were under the necessity of moving once, when there was a report that a party forward; and, on the journey, he learned of the enemy were in sight. He then called accidentally from one of the officers, the for his musket, and attempted to get out of dreadful details of the Queen's execution, the carriage-addressed exhortations and re- which his wife had been at great pains to proaches to the troops that were flying around keep from his knowledge. This intelligence him, and would not rest till an officer in whom seemed to bring back his fever-though he he had confidence came up and restored some still spoke of living to avenge her-"If I do

that his only regret was for leaving her in the midst of such a war, with a helpless child, and in a state of pregnancy. For himself, he added, he died happy, and with humble reliance on the Divine mercy ;—but her sorrow he could not bear to think of;and he entreated her pardon for any neglect

live," he said, "it shall now be for vengeance | march had carried her ahead; but the faithonly-no more mercy from me!"-That ful Agatha, fearful lest her appearance might evening, Madame de L., entirely overcome alarm her mistress in the midst of the jourwith anxiety and fatigue, had fallen into a ney, had remained alone with the dead body deep sleep on a mat before his bed:-And for all the rest of the day! Fatigue, grief, soon after, his condition became altogether and anguish of mind, now threatened Madame desperate. He was now speechless, and de L. with consequences which it seems alnearly insensible;-the sacraments were ad- together miraculous that she should have ministered, and various applications made escaped. She was seized with violent pains, without awaking the unhappy sleeper by his and was threatened with a miscarriage in a side. Soon after midnight, however, she room which served as a common passage to started up, and instantly became aware of the crowded and miserable lodging she had the full extent of her misery. To fill up procured. It was thought necessary to bleed its measure, it was announced in the course her-and, after some difficulty, a surgeon of the morning, that they must immediately was procured. She can never forget, she resume their march with the last division of says, the formidable apparition of this warlike the army. The thing appeared altogether phlebotomist. A figure six feet high, with impossible; Madame de L. declared she ferocious whiskers, a great sabre at his side, would rather die by the hands of the re- and four huge pistols in his belt, stalked up publicans, than permit her husband to be with a fierce and careless air to her bed-side; moved in the condition in which he then and when she said she was timid about the was. When she recollected, however, that operation, answered harshly, "So am not I— these barbarous enemies had of late not only I have killed three hundred men and upwards butchered the wounded that fell into their in the field in my time-one of them only this power, but mutilated and insulted their re-morning-I think then I may venture to mains, she submitted to the alternative, and bleed a woman-Come, come, let us see your prepared for this miserable journey with a arm." She was bled accordingly-and, conheart bursting with anguish. The dying man trary to all expectation, was pretty well again was roused only to heavy moanings by the in the morning. She insisted for a long time pain of lifting him into the carriage,-where in carrying the body of her husband in the his faithful Agatha again supported his head, carriage along with her;-but her father. and a surgeon watched all the changes in after indulging her for a few days, contrived his condition. Madame de L. was placed to fall behind with this precious deposit, and on horseback; and, surrounded by her father informed her when he came up again, that it and mother, and a number of officers, went had been found necessary to bury it privately forward, scarcely conscious of any thing that in a spot which he would not specify. was passing-only that sometimes, in the bitterness of her heart, when she saw the dead bodies of the republican soldiers on the road, she made her horse trample upon them, as if in vengeance for the slaughter of her husband. In the course of little more than an hour, she thought she heard some little stir in the carriage, and insisted on stopping to inquire into the cause. The officers, however, crowded around her; and then her father came up and said that M. de L. was in the same state as before, but that he suffered dreadfully from the cold, and would be very much distressed if the door was again to be opened. Obliged to be satisfied with this answer, she went on in sullen and gloomy silence for some hours longer in a dark and rainy day of November. It was night when they reached the town of Fougeres; and, when lifted from her horse at the gate, she was unable either to stand or walk:-she was carried into a wretched house, crowded with troops of all descriptions, where she waited two hours in agony till she heard that the carriage with M. de L. was come up. She was left alone for a dreadful moment with her mother; and then M. de Beauvolliers came in, bathed in tears,-and taking both her hands, told her she must now think only of saving the child she carried within her! Her husband had expired when she heard the noise in the carriage, soon after their setting out-and the surgeon had acordingly left it as soon as the order of the

This abstract has grown to such a bulk that we find we cannot afford to continue it on the same scale. Nor is this very necessary; for though there is more than a third part of the book, of which we have given no accountand that, to those who have a taste for tales of sorrow, the most interesting portion of it— we believe that most readers will think they have had enough of La Vendée; and that all will now be in a condition to judge of the degree of interest or amusement which the work is likely to afford them. We shall add, however, a brief sketch of the rest of its contents.-After a series of murderous battles, to which the mutual refusal of quarter gave an exasperation unknown in any other history, and which left the field so cumbered with dead bodies that Madame de L. assures us that it was dreadful to feel the lifting of the wheels, and the cracking of the bones, as her heavy carriage passed over them,-the wreck of the Vendeans succeeded in reaching Angers upon the Loire, and trusted to a furious assault upon that place for the means of repassing the river, and regaining their beloved country. The garrison, however, proved stronger and more resolute than they had expected. Their own gay and enthusiastic courage had sunk under a long course of suffering and disaster; and, after losing a great number of men before the walls, they were obliged to turn back in confusion, they did not well know whither, but farther and farther from the land to which all their hopes

[ocr errors]

and wishes were directed. In the tumult of this retreat, Madame de L. lost sight of her venerable aunt, who had hitherto been the mild and patient companion of their wanderings; and learned afterwards that she had fallen into the hands of the enemy, and, at the age of eighty, been publicly executed at Rennes, for the crime of rebellion ! At Fougeres, at Laval, at Dol, and Savenay, the dwindled force of the insurgents had to sustain new attacks from their indefatigable pursuers, in which the officers and most of the soldiery gave still more extraordinary proofs, than any we have yet recorded, of undaunted valour, and constancy worthy of better fortune. The weather was now, in the latter end of November, extremely cold and rainy; the roads almost impassable; and provisions very scarce. Often, after a march of ten hours, Madame de L. has been obliged to fish for a few cold potatoes in the bottom of a dirty cauldron, filled with greasy water, and polluted by the hands of half the army. Her child sickened from its teething, and insufficient nourishment; and every day she witnessed the death of some of those gallant leaders whom the spring had seen assembled in her halls in all the flush of youthful confidence and glory. After many a weary march, and desperate struggle, about ten thousand sad survivors got again to the banks of that fatal Loire, which now seemed to divide them from hope and protection. Henri, who had arranged the whole operation with consummate judgment, found the shores on both sides free of the enemy:-But all the boats had been removed; and, after leaving orders to construct rafts with all possible despatch, he himself, with a few attendants, ventured over in a little wherry, which he had brought with him on a cart, to make arrangements for covering their landing. But they never saw the daring Henri again! The vigilant enemy came down upon them at this critical moment -intercepted his return-and, stationing several armed vessels in the stream, rendered the passage of the army altogether impossible. They fell back in despair upon Savenay; and there the brave and indefatigable Marigny told Madame de L. that all was now overthat it was altogether impossible to resist the attack that would be made next day-and advised her to seek her safety in flight and disguise, without the loss of an instant. She set out accordingly, with her mother, in a gloomy day of December, under the conduct of a drunken peasant; and, after being out most of the night, at length obtained shelter in a dirty farm house, from which, in the course of the day, she had the misery of seeing her unfortunate countrymen scattered over the whole open country, chased and butchered without mercy by the republicans, who now took a final vengeance for all the losses they had sustained. She had long been clothed in shreds and patches, and needed no disguise to conceal her quality. She was sometimes hidden in the mill, when the troopers came to search for fugitives in her lonely retreat; --and oftener sent, in the midst of winter, to

herd the sheep or cattle of her faithful and compassionate host, along with his rawboned daughter.

In this situation they remained till late in the following spring;—and it would be endless to enumerate the hairbreadth 'scapes and unparalleled sufferings to which they were every day exposed-reduced frequently to live upon alms, and forced every two or three days to shift their quarters, in the middle of the night, from one royalist cabin to another. Such was the long-continued and vindictive rigour of the republican party, that the most eager and unrelaxing search was made for fugitives of all descriptions; and every adherent of the insurgent faction who fell into their hands was barbarously murdered, without the least regard to age, sex, or individual innocence! While skulking about in this state of peril and desolation, they had glimpses and occasional rencounters with some of their former companions, whom similar misfortunes had driven upon similar schemes of concealment. In particular, they twice saw the daring and unsubduable M. de Marigny, who had wandered over the whole country from Angers to Nantes; and notwithstanding his gigantic form and remarkable features, had contrived so to disguise himself as to elude all detection or pursuit. He could counterfeit all ages and dialects, and speak in perfection the patois of every village. He now appeared before them in the character of an itinerant dealer in poultry; and retired unsuspected by all but themselves. In this wretched condition, the term of Madame de L.'s confinement drew on; and, after a thousand frights and disasters, she was delivered of two daughters, without any other assistance than that of her mother. One of the infants had its wrist dislocated; and so subdued was the poor mother's mind to the level of her fallen fortunes, that she had now no other anxiety, than that she might recover strength enough to carry it herself to the waters of Bareges, which she fancied might be of service to it ;-but the poor baby died within a fortnight after it was born.

Towards the end of 1794, their lot was somewhat softened by the compassionate kindness of a Madame Dumoutiers, who offered them an asylum in her house; in which, though still liable to the searches of the bloodhounds of the municipality, they had more assistance in eluding them, and less misery to endure in the intervals. The whole history of their escapes would make the adventures of Caleb Williams appear a cold and barren chronicle; but we have room only to mention, that after the death of Robespierre, there was a great abatement in the rigour of pursuit; and that a general amnesty was speedily proclaimed, for all who had been concerned in the insurrection. After several inward struggles with pride and principle, Madame de L. was prevailed on to repair to Nantes, to avail herself of this amnesty ;—but, first of all, she rode in to reconnoitre, and consult with some friends of her hostess; and proceeded boldly through the hostile city, in

the dress of a peasant, with a sack at her back, and a pair of fowls in her hands. She found that the tone was now to flatter and conciliate the insurgents by all sorts of civilities and compliments; and after some time, she and her mother applied for, and obtained, a full pardon for all their offences against the Republican government.

This amnesty drew back to light many of her former friends, who had been universally supposed to be dead; and proved, by the prodigious numbers whom it brought from their hiding-places in the neighbourhood, how generally the lower orders were attached to their cause, or how universal the virtues of compassion and fidelity to confiding misery are in the national character. It also brought to the writer's knowledge many shocking particulars of the cruel executions which so long polluted that devoted city. We may give a few of the instances in her own words, as specimen of her manner of writing; to which, in our anxiety to condense the information she affords us, we have paid perhaps too little



aucun soin. A peine les connaissait-on. Les cadavres restaient quelquefois plus d'un jour sans qu'on vint les emporter.


envoya chercher Lamberty. Il la conduisit dans un Agathe ne doutant plus d'une mort prochaine, petit bâtiment à soupape, dans lequel on avait noyé les prêtres, et que Carrier lui avait donné. Il était seul avec elle, et voulut en profiter: elle résista. Lamberty la menaça de la noyer: elle courut pour dit: Allons! tu es une brave fille, je te sauverai. se jeter elle-même à l'eau. Alors cet homme lui Il la laissa huit jours seule dans le bâtiment, où elle entendait les noyades qui se faisaient la nuit ; ensuite il la cacha chez un nommé S***, qui était, comme lui, un fidele exécuteur des ordres de Carrier.


Quelque temps aprés, la discorde divisa les républicains de Nantes. On prit le prétexte d'accuser Lamberty d'avoir dérobé des femmes aux noyades, et d'en avoir noyé qui ne devaient pas l'être. Un jeune homme, nommé Robin, qui était fort dévoué à Lamberty, vint saisir Agathe chez Madame S***, la traîna dans le bateau, et voulut la poignarder, pour faire disparaître une preuve du crime qu'on parvint à l'attendrir, et il la cacha chez un de ses reprochait à son patron. Agathe se jeta à ses pieds; amis, nommé Lavaux, qui était honnête homme, et qui avait déjà recueilli Madame de l'Epinay: mais on sut dès le lendemain l'asile d'Agathe, et on vint



Cependant le parti ennemi de Lamberty continuait à vouloir le détruire. Il résulta de cette circonstance, qu'on jeta de l'intérêt sur Agathe. On loua S*** et Lavaux de leur humanité, et l'on parvint à faire périr Lamberty! Peu après arriva la mort de Robespierre. Agathe resta encore quelques mois en prison, puis obtint sa liberté."—Vol. ii. pp.


"Madame de Jourdain fut menée sur la Loire, pour être noyée avec ses trois filles. Un soldat voulut sauver la plus jeune, qui était fort belle. Elle se jeta à l'eau pour partager le sort de sa mère. La malheureuse enfant tomba sur des cadavres, et n'enfonça point. Elle criait: Poussez-moi, je n'ai pas assez d'eau et elle périt.

"Mademoiselle de Cuissard, âgée de seize ans, qui était plus belle encore, s'attira aussi le même intérêt d'un officier qui passa trois heures à ses pieds, la suppliant de se laisser sauver. Elle était avec une vielle parente que cet homme ne voulait pas se risquer à dérober au supplice. Mademoiselle de Cuissard se précipita dans la Loire avec elle.

"Une mort affreuse fut celle de Mademoiselle de la Roche St. André. Elle était grosse: on l'épargna. On lui laissa nourrir son enfant; mais il mourut, et on la fit périr le lendemain! Au reste, il ne faut pas croire que toutes les femmes enceintes fussent respectées. Cela était même fort rare; plus communément les soldats massacraient femmes et enfants. Il n'y avait que devant les tribunaux, où l'on observait ces exceptions; et on y laissait aux femmes le temps de nourrir leurs enfants, comme étant une obligation républicaine. C'est en quoi consistait l'humanité des gens d'alors.

"Ma pauvre Agathe avait couru de bien grands dangers. Elle m'avait quitté à Nort, pour profiter de cette amnistie prétendue, dont on avait parlé dans ce moment. Elle vint à Nantes, et fut conduite devant le général Lamberty, le plus féroce des amis de Carrier. La figure d'Agathe lui plait: As-tu peur, brigande ?' lui dit-il. Non, général,' répondit. elle. Hé bien! quand tu auras peur, souviens-toi de Lamberty,' ajouta-t-il. Elle fut conduite à l'entrepôt. C'est la trop fameuse prison où l'on entassoit les victimes destinées à être noyées. Chaque nuit on venait en prendre par centaines, pour les mettre sur les bateaux. La, on liait les malheureux deux à deux, et on les poussait dans l'eau, à coups de baïonnette. On saisissait indistinctement tout ce qui se trouvait à l'entrepôt; tellement qu'on noya un jour l'état major d'une corvette Anglaise, qui était prisonnier de guerre. Une autre fois, Carrier, voulant donner un exemple de l'austérité des mœurs républicaines, fit enfermer trois cents filles publiques de la ville, et les malheureuses créatures furent noyées! Enfin, l'on estime qu'il a péri à l'entrepôt quinze mille per sonnes en un mois. Il est vrai qu'outre les supplices,

When the means of hearing of her friends were thus suddenly restored, there was little to hear but what was mournful. Her father had taken refuge in a wood with a small party of horsemen, after the rout of Savenay, and afterwards collected a little force, with which they seized on the town of Ancenis, and had nearly forced the passage of the Loire; but they were surrounded, and made prisoners, and all shot in the market-place! The brave Henri de Larochejaquelein had gained the north bank with about twenty followers, and wandered many days over the burnt and bloody solitudes of the once happy La Vendée. Overcome with fatigue and hunger, they at last reached an inhabited farm-house, and fell fast asleep in the barn. They were soon roused, however, by the news that a party of the republicans were approaching the same house; but were so worn out, that they would not rise, even to provide against that extreme hazard. The party accordingly entered; and being almost as much exhausted as the others, threw themselves down, without asking any questions, at the other end of the barn, and slept quietly beside them. Henri afterwards found out M. de la Charrette, by whom he was coldly, and even rudely received; but he came again formidable in the scenes of his soon raised a little army of his own, and befirst successes:-till one day, riding a little in front of his party, he fell in with two republican soldiers, upon whom his followers were about to fire, when he said, "No, no, they shall have quarter;" and pushing up to them, called upon them to surrender. Without say

la misère et la maladie ravageaient les prisonniers, ing a word, one of them raised his piece, and qui étaient pressés sur la paille, et qui ne recevaient shot him right through the forehead. He fell

at once dead before them, and was buried where he fell.

"Ainsi périt, à vingt et un ans, Henri de la Rochejaquelein. Encore à présent, quand les paysans se rappelient l'ardeur et l'éclat de son courage, sa modestie, sa facilité, et ce caractère de guerrier, et de bon enfant, ils parlent de lui avec fierté et avec amour. Il n'est pas un Vendéen dont on ne voie le regard s'animer, quand il raconte comment il a servi sous M. Henri."-Vol. ii. pp. 187, 188.

tle in the same cause which proved fatal to the first; during the short period of Bonaparte's last reign, and but a few days before the decisive battle of Waterloo.

The fate of the gallant Marigny was still more deplorable. He joined Charrette and Stofflet; but some misunderstanding having arisen among them upon a point of discipline, they took the rash and violent step of bringing him to a court-martial, and sentencing him to death for disobedience. To the horror of all the Vendeans, and the great joy of the republicans, this unjust and imprudent sentence was carried into execution; and the cause deprived of the ablest of its surviving champions. When they had gratified their curiosity with these melancholy details, Madame de L. and her mother set out for Bourdeaux, and from thence to Spain, where they remained for nearly two years-but were at last permitted to return; and, upon Bonaparte's accession to the sovereignty, were even restored to a great part of their possessions. On the earnest entreaty of her mother, she was induced at last to give her hand to Louis de Larochejaque-ness and good affection among a people of lein, brother to the gallant Henri-and the in- insurgents against an established government; heritor of his principles and character. This and, secondly, that where there is such an match took place in 1802, and they lived in aversion to a government, as to break out in peaceful retirement till the late movements spontaneous insurrection, it is impossible enfor the restoration of the house of Bourbon. tirely to subdue that aversion, either by The notice of this new alliance terminates the severity or forbearance-although the differoriginal Memoirs; but there is a supplement, ence of the two courses of policy is, that containing rather a curious account of the in- severity, even when carried to the savage extrigues and communications of the royalist tremity of devastation and indiscriminate party in Bourdeaux and the South, through slaughter, leads only to the adoption of similar the whole course of the Revolution, and of atrocities in return-while forbearance is at the proceedings by which they conceive that least rewarded by the acquiescence of those they accelerated the restoration of the King in who are conscious of weakness, and gives 1814. It may not be uninteresting to add, time and opportunity for those mutual concesthat since the book was published, the second sions by which alone contending factions or husband of the unfortunate writer fell in bat- principles can ever be permanently reconciled.

We have not left room now for any general observations-and there is no need of them. The book is, beyond all question, extremely curious and interesting-and we really have no idea that any reflections of ours could appear half so much so as the abstract we have now given in their stead. One remark, however, we shall venture to make, now that our abstract is done. If all France were like La Vendée in 1793, we should anticipate nothing but happiness from the restoration of the Bourbons and of the old government. But the very fact that the Vendeans were crushed by the rest of the country, proves that this is not the case: And indeed it requires but a moment's reflection to perceive, that the rest of France could not well resemble La Vendée in its royalism, unless it had resembled it in the other peculiarities upon which that royalism was founded-unless it had all its noblesse resident on their estates; and living in their old feudal relations with a simple and agricultural vassalage. The book indeed shows two things very plainly,-and both of them well worth remembering. In the first place, that there may be a great deal of kind

(November, 1812.)

Mémoires de FREDERIQUE SOPHIE WILHELMINE DE PRUSSE, Margrave de Bareith, Sœur de Frederic le Grand. Ecrits de sa Main. 8vo. 2 tomes. Brunswick, Paris, et Londres: 1812.

PHILOSOPHERS have long considered it as probable, that the private manners of absolute Sovereigns are vulgar, their pleasures low, and their dispositions selfish; that the two extremes of life, in short, approach pretty closely to each other; and that the Masters of mankind, when stripped of the artificial pomp and magnificence which invests them in public, resemble nothing so nearly as the meanest of the multitude. The ground of this opinion is, that the very highest and the very lowest of mankind are equally beyond the influence of that wholesome control, to which all the

intermediate classes are subjected, by their mutual dependence, and the need they have for the good will and esteem of their fellows. Those who are at the very bottom of the scale are below the sphere of this influence; and those at the very top are above it. The one have no chance of distinction by any effort they are capable of making; and the other are secure of the highest degree of it, without any. Both therefore are indifferent, or very nearly so, to the opinion of mankind: the former, because the naked subsistence which they earn by their labour will not be affected

« 前へ次へ »