This wretched country is so crowded with ravines and
rocks, and the roads are so narrow, so deep, and so
bad, that I have been forced to make my way hither
with a small detachment of thirty men only, but I
have found that sufficient to drive the tiger from
his lair. He, and the other rebel leader, Larochejaquelin,
have fled into the woods, without either money, arms,
or even clothing; and I doubt not soon to be able
to inform the Convention that, at any rate, they can
never again put themselves at the head of a rebellious
army.
Citizen President, deign to receive from my hands
the only trophies which I have deemed myself justified
in rescuing from the flames which are about to consume
this accursed chateau. I enclose the will and
a miniature portrait of the aristocrat, de Lescure.
I pray you to receive, and to make acceptable to the
Convention, the most distinguished,
&c. &c. &c.
Westerman.”
SANTERRE
Santerre and Adolphe Denot left the main army at Thouars,
and made their way to Argenton with about four thousand
men. From thence, Durbelliere was distant about
four leagues; and Santerre lost no time in making his
preparations for destroying that chateau, as Westerman
was at the same moment doing at Clisson. Generally
speaking, the people of the towns, even in La Vendee
sided with the republicans; but the people of Argenton
were supposed to be royalists, and Santerre therefore
gave positive orders that every house in it should
be destroyed. He did not, however, himself want
to see the horrid work done, but hurried on to Durbelliere,
that he might, if possible, surprise the Vendean chiefs,
whom he believed to be staying there. About one
hundred and fifty men followed him, and the remainder
of the army was to march on to Bressuire, as soon
as Argenton was in ashes.
Santerre, since he had left the company of the other
Generals at Thouars, had become more familiar and
confidential with Denot, and rode side by side with
him from Argenton, talking freely about the manners
of the country, and the hopes of the royalists, till
he succeeded in getting the traitor into good humour,
and obtaining from him something like a correct idea
of the state of the country.
“And this is the parish of St. Aubin?”
said Santerre, as they drew near to Durbelliere.
“Yes,” said Denot, “this is the
parish of St. Aubin; and the estate of the Larochejaquelins.”
“And they are popular with the people?”
said Santerre. “They must have been well
loved, or they would not have been so truly followed.”
Denot blushed at the heavy accusation against himself
which these words conveyed; but he made no answer.
“And this old man, my friend?” said Santerre,
“this ancient cripple that you tell me of? he
is too old, too infirm, I suppose, to care much about
this revolt?”
