For Love Of Marie-Jeanne
Ivanov Seven is an excellent boys’ book by Elizabeth Janeway, and regards a mid-19th century recruit into the Russian army who is fortunate enough to return home to the hills with a charming little howitzer named Katya for his very own > which is the sort of souvenir no-one could resist; particularly a Prussian ornate cannon that is antique bronze inscribed:
Anyway, during the royalist war in the Vendée against the brutish scum of the French Republic, there was another notable piece with a sweet name. She was a bit bigger, but just as lovable.
Really, the only engaging with life which makes the curious matter of existence endurable is to destroy republicans… And maybe, to collect cannon. Not only for that good purpose, but just because… I find myself unable to believe God created us in order that we might worship Him — although He would have every right so to do if He so Chose ( that’s the arbitrary and unfettered bit that is the essence of power; which we must try to mirror, howsoever unsuccessfully here on earth, at least for His equally arbitrarily Chosen lieutenants… ) — and His reasons for creation must remain a mystery, but fighting on the right side each time consoles us at least during each such struggle.
The soldiers reassembled in large numbers, till, with Bonchamps’ division, there were close on forty thousand, but destitute of powder; the army spent the night before La Châtaigneraie, which had been re-occupied by the Republicans. At daybreak the town was found to have been evacuated, all the Blues having fallen back on Fontenay. The Catholic Army marched forward without delay and towards noon reached Pissotte, three-quarters of a league from Fontenay; the Blues, to the number of ten thousand, with upwards of forty pieces of cannon, were drawn up in battle array before the town. The priests were asked to give the men absolution before the battle. “We have no powder, boys“, the generals said to them; “Come on and recapture Marie-Jeanne with your cudgels, as you did at first. See who can run fastest, for we cannot stop to fire this time.” M. de Lescure was in command of the left wing; his men showing a disposition to hang back, he was obliged to ride on alone forty paces ahead of them; then, pulling up, he called out “Vive le Roi !” He was instantly greeted with six rounds of grapeshot, for the enemy had aimed at him as though he was the bullseye on a target; by a veritable miracle he was not wounded, though his clothes were riddled, his left spur shot away, and also a large piece of his boot from the right calf. Turning round he called out to the men, “You see, boys, the Blues cannot shoot. On with you ! Forward !” The men, carried away with enthusiasm, rushed forward at such a pace that my husband had to break into a quick trot in order to keep at their head. Just then the peasants, catching sight of a mission cross, fell on their knees around it, though within range of the cannon. More than thirty balls passed over their heads. At that point there were only MM. de Lescure and de Baugé on horseback. The latter would have had my husband bid them go on. “No, let them finish their prayers first“, he answered quietly. At length they sprang up and rushed upon the enemy. Meanwhile M. de Marigny fired off the few charges we had with good effect. M. de la Rochejaquelein had put himself at the head of the cavalry with MM. de Dommaigné and de Beaurepaire; they all displayed the utmost gallantry, while Henri distinguished himself by a judgment beyond his years. After repulsing the Republican cavalry, instead of pursuing it, he fell upon the flank of the enemy’s left wing, which till then had been maintaining the fight with some success, and by so doing placed the victory beyond a doubt. I wish I could give further details with regard to the circumstances of this battle, but I can only say what I know for certain.
The Blues, appalled by the desperate onslaught of the Vendeans, were completely routed in three quarters of an hour. The left wing, under the command of M. de Lescure, reached the gate of the town, and he himself was the first to enter, but his men, to begin with, had not the courage to follow him. MM. de Bonchamps and Forest, spying him from a distance, dashed forward to join him ; it was high time, for he was alone and in a very perilous situation. The three officers together were rash enough to penetrate into the town, though the streets were still crowded with over four thousand Blues, who, paralysed with terror, fell on their knees and began begging for quarter. When they had reached the square they separated and took three different streets, likewise thronged with armed volunteers, to whom they cried, “Surrender, down with your arms ! Vive le Roi ! We will do you no harm.” Scarcely had he parted from M. de Lescure, however, than M. de Bonchamps was wounded. One of the soldiers, after laying down his musket and crying for quarter like the rest, picked it up again as soon as he had passed, and fired, shooting him through the arm and fleshy part of the breast and inflicting four wounds upon him : luckily our troops were just then crowding into the town in the wake of their generals. Bonchamps’ men in their fury closed in on the street and slaughtered about sixty Blues who were in it, so that the guilty one should not escape their vengeance.
As for M. de Lescure, he had the greatest pleasure a man can experience ; on leaving M. de Bonchamps and Forest he had taken the Street of the Prisons, which he caused.to be thrown open, to the cry of Vive le Roi, and flung himself into the arms of M. de la Marsonniere and the two hundred and forty prisoners confined along with him. This officer and several of the men were to have been guillotined the following morning; he had shown at his examination a nobility and greatness of character worthy of the highest praise. M. de Lescure had hastened to deliver them for fear they should be massacred by the Blues, and having done so flew at once to another prison in which were confined the relations of émigrés and other suspected persons, to the number of over two hundred. They had viewed the battle from afar and barricaded themselves on the inside for fear of being butchered by the patriots. M. de Lescure knocked repeatedly, crying, “Open, in the King’s name !” Immediately the doors flew open, while the prison rang with cries of Vive le Roi ! All the captives embraced M. de Lescure, but without recognizing him, even though a great many were relations or friends of his ; after telling them his name he left them, to engage in the pursuit of the patriots like all the other officers.
Forest had taken the street leading to the Niort road, and accordingly found himself at the very head. Everyone’s chief concern was to recapture Marie-Jeanne, the idol of the army, while the Blues, who were aware of this, used every endeavour to save her. They were already well over a league from the town. Forest had pushed forward so far that he found himself in the midst of over a hundred gendarmes ; fortunately he had the horse, saddle and weapons of a gendarme he had killed in a previous engagement, besides which, he was not dressed like a peasant and had no white cockade, and as at that time most of the Republican regiments were full of new recruits not yet in uniform, the Blues took him for one of their own men. “Comrade,” said one of them, clapping him on the shoulder, “there is a reward of twenty-five thousand francs for those who save Marie-Jeanne; she is in danger; let us turn back and prevent her from being taken.” All the Blues promptly turned back, whereupon Forest began to play the hero, declaring that he must be the foremost, and so gradually worked his way forward till he found himself leading, some way ahead, and followed only by the two boldest. When he was only a short distance from our men, he turned round with a cry of Vive le Roi ! and killed the two Blues who were following him, while the Vendeans, recognizing him, fell upon the enemy and captured Marie-Jeanne who was defended by some foot. To bring the history of this gun to a conclusion, I will add that she was brought back by the soldiers in triumph to La Vendée, where, in all the villages, the women came out to meet her, embracing her and covering her with flowers and ribbons.
Memoirs of the Marquise de La Rochejaquelein [ trans : Cecil Biggane ]
A/ Marie-Jeanne was a 12-pounder, one of six sisters from the Château de Richelieu.
B/ The insurgents had a wise grasp on the historic duplicity of the English and their historic lack of good faith [ after all, the British governance was equally as, and is still, revolutionary as the American or French of then or now: their oligarchs merely moved in a century earlier than those two others ]. Two excerpts:
i/ M. de Tinténiac was the second son of the marquis of that name, and belonged to one of the noblest and wealthiest families in Brittany. He was a man of thirty, of small stature, with a face that sparkled with intelligence, and his countenance did not belie him. He carried his despatches in two double-barrelled pistols, fully loaded, in which they took the place of wads. He was firmly resolved, if arrested, to fire all his four shots and so preserve the secret of his mission. My father, MM. de la Rochejaquelein, de Lescure, the Bishop of Agra, des Essarts and de Béjarry were at La Boulaye. At first they received M. de Tinténiac with some suspicion, enquiring how he came to be chosen in preference to so many other émigrés who belonged to that part of the country. He replied that several had declined so dangerous a mission, while others did not happen to be within reach, and added with a noble candour : “Over and above the motives that would have prevailed with anyone else, I will not hide from you that I have had a very blameworthy youth and wished to wipe out my past follies or die in the attempt.”
He then delivered his despatches, which were, I think, from the English minister Dundas; there were also letters from the Governor of Jersey. The despatches contained compliments on our valour together with extremely flattering offers, and expressed a wish to cooperate in the maintenance of the insurrection. Nine questions followed ; I think I can remember them more or less ; they were :—
Why had we not established relations with England ? What was the real object of the revolt ? What had given rise to it ? What were our relations with the other provinces and the Allied Powers ? What was the extent of the territory in revolt ? How many men had we ? What were our resources in the way of money, provisions, clothing, cannon, muskets and powder ? How came we by them all ? In conclusion they offered to provide us with all we needed, and asked us to suggest a suitable place for a landing.
All the despatches were written in a tone of sincerity together with a sort of apprehension lest we should reject the help of England, since we had not asked for it; they even seemed to be doubtful, or at least not to know for certain, whether we were out and out Royalists or supporters of a Constitutional Monarchy or even Federalists. Everything was addressed to M. Gaston, the hairdresser of Challans of whom I have made mention, who had been the first to be named in the newspapers as a leader of the rising, and who the English thought to be the same as a M. Gaston who had commanded at Longwy in the campaign of 1792.
M. de Tinteniac was speedily convinced that we were Royalists pure and simple. He read our proclamation of Fontenay, reprinted at Angers, with which the English must certainly have been acquainted for all they pretended to know nothing about it, for how could a proclamation published in all the newspapers possibly have been unknown to their Government ? This proves beyond a doubt that their pretended uncertainty as to our opinions was a piece of sheer duplicity. We, for our part, perceiving that M. de Tinteniac was really an emigre confidence was established between us, and laying aside the character of English ambassador he unbosomed himself and told us the truth without reserve.
ii/ We were to have proceeded from Fougères to Rennes; it was our best plan, and we were on the point of adopting it, for Henri had never favoured the march on Granville; but two émigrés, sent by the English Government, arrived with the news ( which was quite true ) that there were troops at Jersey ready to support us; we must therefore do our best to capture a sea-port, and then the English would supply us with all we needed. What chiefly decided us was the hope of securing a safe refuge where we could leave the women, children, old folk, wounded and non-combatants, amounting to about twenty thousand people, who greatly hampered the army and whose own lot was most pitiable. By this course all these advantages appeared to be combined.
I do not know the names of the two emigres who came to Fougères; they were disguised as Breton peasants, and one of them was a member of the Parliament of Brittany; they drew the English despatches out of a hollow stick. The English Cabinet, after making them the most favourable offers, asked the Vendeans what kind of government they wished to set up; to which we replied that all we wanted was to restore the King to the throne, without troubling about what laws he established thereafter, which was no business of ours. When the two envoys had discharged their commission from the English Government, they snapped their stick in another place and took out a short letter from M. du Dresnay, one of the most important of the Breton nobles, who informed us that all the émigrés in Jersey were burning to join us, but that they had been deprived of their arms and all possibility of getting across. [ eg: by the British. ]
My italics in the last. No nobler sentiment has ever been expressed on God’s Earth. Even a non-legitimist such as Evelyn Waugh, whatever faults he may have had, never voted once in his life, because as he said magnificently: it was not for him to advise his sovereign on whom to choose for a government.
That is what it means to be a Subject, and merely not a wretched pitiful little piece of waste as a Citizen.
