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Updated: June 24, 2025
The destruction of St Florent was postponed for a month, and at the expiration of that time, the troops of the republic had too much to do, to return to the little town where the war had commenced. The rumour of what had been done at St. Florent, was also soon known in Coron, in Torfou, and in Clisson.
"These are the Clisson woods," said the guide, almost out of breath with the quickness of his motion. "How infernally dark they make it," said Westerman, speaking to himself. "We had light enough till we got here" "And there are the gates," said the guide.
"I am another man since yesterday, Gaston; but be careful see there." "Little fear of breaking such sleep as that," said Gaston. "'Tis a noble-hearted little fellow, and if matters go better with us henceforth, it will be his work." "What is become of Clisson?" "He was riding off headlong when Master Henry Neville last beheld him, gaining thereby a sound rating from old Chandos."
It was resolved that on the following day they should leave Clisson for Durbelliere, and hand over the chateau and all it contained the farm and all its well-filled granaries, the cattle and agricultural wealth of the estate, to the fire and plunder of the republicans.
My opportunity of becoming acquainted with that singular district called Le Bocage, will be best understood by very briefly sketching my route through it. I traversed it, and the district called Le Loroux, by the route of Montaigne and Lege, and on my return I passed through Clisson, Vallet, and Loroux, along the banks of the Loire.
A few non-royal princes, such as Armagnac, or Saint-Pol, or Brittany, remain and will go down with the others; the "new men" of the day, the bastard Dunois or the Constables Du Guesclin and Clisson, grow to greater prominence; it is clear that the old feudalism is giving place to a newer order, in which the aristocracy, from the King's brothers downwards, will group themselves around the throne, and begin the process which reaches its unhappy perfection under Louis XIV.
In the meantime Clisson had been engaged in a desperate struggle with the Count of Auxerre, but was obtaining no advantage. Clisson himself had received the blow of a battle-axe which had dashed in the vizor of his helmet and blinded for ever one of his eyes.
The united families were at Durbelliere, and there was no longer any danger of their separation, for at Clisson not one stone was left standing upon another. We will now jump over a space of nearly three months, and leaving the chateaux of royalist La Vendee, plunge for a short while into the heart of republican Paris. In the Rue St.
"Clisson!" Clisson jumped like a flash and marked his name on the floor in chalk before a front seat. "Caron!" Caron galloped away to secure his place. Bang! went an easel. "Nom de Dieu!" in French, "Where in h l are you goin'!" in English. Crash! a paintbox fell with brushes and all on board. "Dieu de Dieu de " spat!
Westerman understood enough of the tactics of the Vendeans to know that this was practicable, and he had the quick wit and ready hand to conceive the plan, and put it in practice: he knew that the peasants would not remain in barracks, or even assembled together during the night, if they were near enough to their own homes to reach them; he knew that they would spend the remainder of their long summer evening in drinking, dancing, and rejoicing, and that they would then sleep as though no enemy were within a hundred miles of them; he knew that nothing could induce them to take on themselves the duties of sentinels, and that there would, in all probability, be but little to oppose him in attacking Clisson that night.
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