Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1877-07-04

Side by sde--two stranded ships
Count Victor.
DY JULES JANIN.
Count Victor Baudelot de Derval was
grandson of gentleman who figures
favorbly in the autobiography of the old
Duchess of Orleans, mother of the Regent
in the minority of Louis XIV. Though
she befouled without scruple the memories
of the leading men of her own day, not
sparing her own granddaughter or her
own son, she always speaks with high res
pect of Victor Baudelot Saint Simon,
too, although he looked at human nature
too generally on the wrong side, has al
ways good word for Baudelot and when
in 1893 the war between royalists and Re-
publicans broke out in La Vendee, the De
Baudelot, who WAS then head of his house,
was among the first to JON those who took
up arms to curb the eXCesses of the revo-
luton. He fought, as all his noble COM
rades fought, with heart and hand. He
was the friend of Catheineau, Lescure,
La Rochejaquelin and the rest of their
gallant company. He went into battle
with light-hearted grace, cared nothing
for discouragements or dangers, and his
gay spirits were almost gayest after a
fight, so soon us he had ceased to hear the
groans and outcries of the field of battle.
What CO farpoio,1s fhn
struggle in La Vendee? But | have no
design of dwelling on it. Others have
painted it too often; some with their brush
es dipped in glowing hues, others in dark
er colors All have to do is to tell you
this story of Count Baudelot who one day
was surprised in farm house, together
with detachment of twelve Royalists, by
a body of Blues, us the Republicans were
nicknamed in La Vendce. The Count
called out to his men:
Retire Immediately! The farm house
is about to be surrounded. Fly Carry
off the women and children. will stay
and defend the door, can hold out ten
minutes: There are three hundred of
them! They will murder every one they
capture. Farewell my gallant lads. DO
not forget me. 1t is my turn TO die to-day
it will be yours tomorrow"
In those days of glorious heroism and
self fdevotion nobody was surprised at any
instance of self-sacrifce. Dramatic hero
ism, common enough among Frenchman
in other wars, had no one to admire it, to
record it, to be surprised at it in this war
of extermination and despair. 1t was no
| 4;,,o ,,lnoa fn,, (l1ivptio y ybihitinO
of courage or devotion. Sclf-sacrlices
were accepted as mere thingsof course, and
Baudelot's twelve soldiers Immediately
obeyed him.
The Count remained behind after they
left, making all possible noises harauguing,
disputing, giving orders, rattling his gun
against the floor and clinking its locks.
He made row enough for a whole regi-
ment at once, and the Blues were cautious
in their approaches. But after while
his voice began to fail, and, judging that
his men must by that time be safe, the
careless Frenchman cared no longer to
command an imaginary company; and,
leaving off his orders and exhortations,
barrcaded the oak door and waited further
action. For some minutes the door resisted
the fresh assaults of the enemy. Then it
began to yield. The Blues fired through
the chinks into the chamber.
Count Victor was not wounded; and as
he bad been surprised when half through
breakfast, he sat down to the table to fin
ish his bread and cheese, saying to himself
with every bite, " 1t is my last mouthful.' v
At length the strong door yielded-the
| p1uao hurct iptn thn uOnlIInnnt II tOul
some little time to push back the obstruc-
lions and to see clearly what was what
through the smoke of their own volley.
They drew their swords, and, rs the dim
ness cleared away, glared eagerly around
to see what had become of that large body
of troops who had resisted their entrance
for half an hour.
Imagine their surprise, instead of find
ing the owners of all those voices, they
saw only one young and handsome man.
tall, calm, and with n merry twinkle in his
eyes eating slice of black loaf and wash,
ing it down with the weak wine of the
country.
The soldiers of the Republic paused in
astonishment. This pause gave Victor
Baudelot time to toss off the last drop and
swallow the last mOutnlul.
Your good health, gentlemen" he
cried, lifting his wine glass to his lips
i" The garrison is much obliged to you fol
your kind consideration"
AS he spoke he rose and went to theil
commander.
Monsieur" said he, Il am alone in
this house. You can shoot me behind the
shrubbery we see out yonder."
He paused, and, to his great surprise
was not shot moment after. 1t may have
been because his captors were recruits
new to Vendean warfare. 1t may have
been because they were interested by his
handsome face, his gallant bearing, and
his cool indifference. Maybe they felt
ashamed of shooting in cold blood II man
who had defended himself against three
hundred of them.
They tied his hands behind his back
and, under strict guard, sent him to Il
country house near Nantes, which had
once been II nobleman's mansion. The
master of the house was in command oil
the very Blues who had just seized and
bound him. A Breton and Il gentle
man (although lie was Revolutionary
hepuDHcan), ne nau HunS nlnSelI nelr'
and soul into the cause of liberty at the
outset of the revolution. lie was one oI
those mobiles who in one night, that night
which has been called both. the night Of
sacrifices and the might Of insanity, strip
ped themselves of their fortunes, of theil
privileges, of their armorial bearings, oI
their very names; forgetting what was due
to their ancestors and their descendants, to
the past and to the future, and paid Sc
dearly for their imprudent enthusiasm
during the remainder of their lives
They are all now dead Some died the
victims of that movement they too lavish.