Annette. A tale ... With a memoir of the author by the Hon. Sir T. N. Talfourd

Front matter

ANNETTE. A TALE. B1 WILLIAM FREDERICK DEACON, WITH A MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR, Bl THE HON. SIR T. N. TALFOURD, D.C.L. IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. I. LONDON: COLBURN AND CO., PUBLISHERS, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET. 1852. LONDON: Printed by Schulze and Co., 13, Poland Street. OP THE LATE WILLIAM FREDERICK DEACON. BY SIR T. N. TALFOURD, D.C.L. VOL. I. B The Author of the following Romance was my school-febow at Reading School, and, after the interval of a few years which succeeded our school-days, renewed his acquaintance with me, and abowed me the enjoyment of cordial friend ship with him tbl he died, in 1845. Amidst the labours of periodical literature by which he supported his famdy, he slowly and carefuHy composed this work, in the hope of making a considerable addition to the little fund which he struggled to provide for them ; and died when it was scarcely completed.

Circumstances devoid of general interest have delayed its appearance tib now, when an opportunity of b presenting it to the world opens with a prospect of its realizing, in some measure, the hope with which it was written ; and I gladly embrace the occasion to pay a late and brief, but faithful, tribute to his memory. Wibiam Frederick Deacon was born on the 26th of July, 1799, in Carobne Place, Meck lenburgh Square, where his father, a highly respectable merchant, then resided ; and was the eldest of six children. When about eleven years of age, he was placed at Reading School, then in the height of the prosperity to which it had been raised from a slender foundation, by the excebent scholar who presided over it for more than fifty years. There may have been scholars of more extensive learning than Doctor Valpy ; but there has rarely, if ever, lived a better school-master — one who has more emi nently possessed the faculty of imparting know ledge and inspbing the love of learning — one who has combined more of that authority which the proud are happy to obey with the power of winning regard ; and, therefore, no one whose image has been more reverently cherished by his pupbs.

His scholastic system was marked by a peculiarity of his own invention — which it may not be easy to defend as part of the machinery for the acquisition of scholarship, but which produced happy results in the education of the affections. The performance of certain official duties, the attainment of certain grades of advance ment, the success of certain exercises, were rewarded by some " trivial fond records" entered in the Doctor's school-book denominated Exemp tions — which were contrasted in that book with the sable entry of impositions imposed on one day in the week to be absolutely due on the corresponding day of the next — and which could not only be employed at the wib of the fortunate possessor to exempt him from the penalties of any default or misdeed (except a transgression of the bounds of morality or the playground), but which were transferable to his class-febows or to any boys of a lower class ; and if, by virtue of theb liberal application, the impositions of one entire day could be expunged, those which became due on the day next after it vanished ; so that if the impositions of the three first days of the week could be obliterated, the entire week's record, how black soever in its three last days, was made blank, and the school started on its course without the shadow of a single fear.

Chapter I

The great French Revolution of 1789 which was habed with such enthusiasm by the larger portion of the people labouring under the manifold oppressions of the feudal system, caused — at least in its earlier stages — but little excitement in the rude, sequestered district of La Vendee. There, feudalism had never dis played itself in an oppressive form, for the nobles and principal landowners lived among their tenantry and peasantry, like fathers among their children ; exhibiting neither pride nor ANNETTE. ostentation, indulging in no other luxury than that of hospitality, and in no other amusement than the chase, to which they w7ere passionately addicted, and in which their dependents were allowed to share equaby with themselves. In the best sense of the term, the feudal lord, or Seigneur, as he was cabed, was a father and a friend to those over whom he was placed in authority.

He held constant and famdiar intercourse with them ; counsebed them in theb little domestic matters ; acted as their lawyer, and occasionally even as their physician ; shared in theb agricultural losses as w7eh as their gains ; attended at their weddings, where it was his wont to give away the bride ; and on Sundays and holidays, and more especiaby on his hunting expeditions, which, singularly enough, were always announced by the Cure from the pulpit, he assembled as many of his retainers as he could accommodate in his chateau, where the members of his famby mingled with them, dancing with them in the barn or court-yard, according to the season ; and the day was wound up by merry, and not seldom boisterous, festivities. ANNETTE. 39 Of the luxurious habits and fashions of the capital, the Seigneur was not unfrequently wholly ignorant.

In early youth, perhaps, he might have visited Paris, joined in the courtly society of his peers, and made his bow at Ver sailles and the Tuderies; but in after life he was as closely wedded to his home as a High land chieftain of the old school, living in a style of simplicity, and even homeliness, w7hich had long disappeared from every other quarter of the kingdom. His famby estate had no orna mented park, trim gardens, or architectural embebishments to boast of; but, generaby speaking, was nothing more than a clumsy, old fashioned chateau, surrounded with orchards, farm-houses and cottages for the household labourers. Like the English squire of the days of George III., the Vendean Seigneur was fond of the generous stimulus suppbed by the wine-cup ; he seldom, however, drank to excess ; and though frank and bluff in manner, had none of that revolting coarseness so common among our provincial gentry of the last century.

In his notions of loyalty he was as enthusiastic as ANNETTE. he was disinterested. The monarch was, in his eyes, a being holding a place midway between man and the Deity, whose behests, be they what they might, must be obeyed at ab hazards; and this sentiment of mingled duty and reverence he dibgently impressed on his family and dependents. It was to these Vendean nobles that the unhappy Louis XVI. looked for help, when, after the death of Mirabeau and the emigration of a great portion of the aristocracy, he found himself, like Sampson, " shorn of ab his strength." The peasantry of La Vendee partook of the character of theb Seigneurs, with this marked difference however, that they were strangely alive to superstitious influences, and had great faith in miracles. When the effects of the Revolution reached them, and the flames of civd war were lighted up throughout the province, this credulity, aggravated by the cruel sufferings they were constantly compebed to undergo, w7as carried to a degree bordering on madness.

The chief occupation of this rude and simple people, at the time when our story opens, was agriculture, and theb favourite amusement the ANNETTE. 41 wolf, the boar, or the stag-hunt, in which, as has been already observed, they joined on equal terms with their Seigneurs. Sir Walter Scott has observed that there are historical grounds for supposing that the Vendeans are descended from the Huns, Vandals, and Picts, who sub dued the western parts of France, adding that "their form and complexion support this opinion, giving strong indications that they are neither of Gabic nor Frank descent." They are indeed — or rather were — particularly dis tinguished from the rest of their countrymen by their dislike of all innovations, their taciturn habits, and more especially by their love of drinking, which, says a writer who knew them web, " was the sin that most easily beset them."

As a body, they were undoubtedly the happiest and most contented of the French peasantry, for there were no odious nor unequal taxes to engender jealousies and heart-burnings among them ; and accordingly their nobles had no sooner summoned them to take up arms in defence of the monarchy, after the famous 10th of August, than they obeyed with a readiness and unanimity which showed that they considered the cause their own. ANNETTE. One great reason of the ignorance and simplicity of these people, was the utter absence of large cities and trading towns in La Vendee. Even the most populous of the latter seldom contained more than two thousand inhabitants ; and the vibages w7ere little better than a rude cluster of some five or six farm-houses, and about as many cottages, which stood at a con siderable distance from each other.

Nantes w7as looked on as the capital of the province ; but it was situated on its very edge, and was chiefly resorted to by those who lived in the neighbour hood, and who consequently were a more busy and civilized class than those who dwelt in the interior. Among these last, news circulated but slowly, for rarely did the traveber find his way to their more secluded towns and vibages, the facbities of communication being few, only one great road traversing the country — that, namely, from Nantes to Rochebe. As regards the external appearance of La Vendee, its surface may be said to consist of a series of low hbls and narrow winding vabeys, watered by innumerable streams. It abounds in woods and thickets — whence it has been cabed the Bocage — and contains one or two ANNETTE 43 forests, which afford excebent opportunities for boar-hunting.

The ground is mostlv in pas turage, being but mdifferently adapted to the plough, and it is divided into smab enclosures, each of which is surrounded by tab luxuriant hedges. The cross-roads, which are numerous, and in winter serve as channels for torrents, are sadly perplexing to those unacquainted with the country, for they cross each other at the end of almost every field, and wind in so capricious, and labvrinthine a manner, among the bibs and through the vaheys, that even the natives, says M. de Bournissaux, are apt to miss the track when they venture to any distance from theb own dwellings. Such was La Vendee, which half a century ago was scarcely even known to us by name, and such the character of its Seigneurs and peasantry, at the period to which the present tale refers. Of late years, and more particularly since the restoration of the Bourbons, great changes have taken place, both in the aspect of the country, and the physical and moral con dition of its inhabitants.

New roads have been made, and canals and bridges formed, for the ANNETTE purpose of facilitating communication ; habits more in unison with those of the rest of France, have been introduced ; the religious spirit of the people has lost much of its wild fanatical character ; and few could recognise in the bvely sagacious Vendean of 1 840, the stern grave, undaunted enthusiast of 1793. From the above brief sketch, the reader wib be better able to understand what fobows. ANNETTE. 45

Chapter II

It was towards the close of a warm day in the May of 1791, that two French horsemen arrived at a smab vibage in the province of La Vendee, and one of them dismounting at the nearest dwebing that presented itself, which was a pretty farm-house, little, if at ab, superior to a Welch cottage, with an odd flat tbe roof, inquired of a young peasant who chanced to be standing at the door, cleaning his musket, which was the nearest road to the chateau of the Marquis de Chatibon. The reply was by no means encouraging, for it was to the effect that the chateau was sub four leagues off, and that to travebers unaccustomed to the country the way was very difficult to find. ANNETTE. " Four leagues !" exclaimed the stranger who had put the question, and who, though dressed in the plain attire of a private gentleman, had quite a military air and bearing, "we shab never get there to night with these horses.

Harkee, my good febow7," he continued, ad dressing the peasant, who stood eyeing him with mingled respect and curiosity, " can we be fur nished with fresh horses in this out-of-the-way vibage of yours ?" " I don't think, Monseigneur," was the answer, " that there are any to be had nearer than the next vibage, which is a league to the northward, out of your line of road. But if you'll come in, and wait a short time, I'll take the horses round to the shed, and after they've had some food and rest no doubt they'll do the distance." This proposal was acceded to, and the first spokesman making a sign to his companion to alight and follow him, went into the farm-house, whde the peasant led the jaded animals round to a cattle-shed which stood in the rear of the house. An elderly female who had been standing in ANNETTE. 47 the door-way listening to this conversation, met the travebers on their entrance, and ushered them with simple and ready courtesy into a large kitchen, near the window of which sate a pretty, coquettish looking girl; neatly attbed in a white cap edged with black, that set off her face to great advantage, and a brihiant scarlet handkerchief carelessly thrown over her bosom, below which appeared a smab jet cross, sus pended from a ribbon that encbcled her neck.

As the strangers came in, she just rose to make them an obeisance, and then quietly resumed her work, which was spinning coarse flax. When the travebers had seated themselves, the elder of the two females, taking for granted that they stood as much in need of refresh ment as their horses, began bustling about with great eagerness ; and in a few minutes drew a table towards them, on which she placed some dried fruits, bread, cheese, and a jug of thin sour wine. Theb appetites, sharpened by a long ride, were by no means fastidious, and they set to at these homely viands with infinite good wib; whbe, every now and then, the horseman whom I have already noticed ANNETTE. as wearing the aspect of a soldier of rank, kept paying compliments to the rosy little damsel by the window, which caused her to blush and smbe in a way that showed she was not altogether displeased.

" Aye, she is a good girl," said the unsophis ticated old dame, patting her fondly on the head, " and deserves ab the kind words that can be bestowed on her : and she's going to be married next week," a remark which caused the girl to hang her head, and ply her wheel with more activity than ever. " And the happy bridegroom, I presume, is the young man who has just left us," observed the first speaker. " Yes, he is Jeannette's cousin : it wib be a merry affair, won't it, Jeannette?" " No doubt, dame ; and you, I'll answer for it, wib be among the merriest of the party." " I hope so, for I've no cause to complain. The Seigneur behaves kindly to us, and our grass lands seldom fab, though this year the drought has somewhat injured them ; but it wib be better next year. And so you're going to the chateau ?"

ANNETTE. 49 " You know the Marquis, then ?" inqubed the traveber. " Know him !" answered the loquacious old lady, "do I know myself ? Do I know little Jeannette here, who has bved with me ever since she was a child? Sure, every one in the Bocage knows the Marquis ; and we ab love him, too, and would gladly lay dow7n our lives for him, which is but right, seeing that he is our lawful Seigneur." Whbe this conversation was going forward, an amusing interlude was being played by the other horseman, who had not yet opened his mouth, except to discuss his meal, and the pretty arch peasant-gbl, The former made many efforts to catch her eye, by nods, winks, and sundry significant gestures; but his virtuous endeavours were unavailing, for though Jeannette, with the quick tact of womanhood, at once fathomed his meaning, she looked most provokingly unconconscious, so much to his annoyance, that shifting his seat with a glance of huge disdain, he at length fably turned his back on her, a movement which occasioned her no little secret diversion.

VOL. I. E ANNETTE. The young farmer here entered the room, with intebigence that the horses had been well looked to, and that now, after an hour's rest, he thought they might venture to continue their journey. The travebers rose at this intimation, and bidding adieu to Jeannette and theb hostess, who declined with an unaffected air, not devoid of dignity, the money which one of them pressed upon her, resumed their route ; having received such directions as would enable them to keep in the right track until they reached the next vibage, where they were told they would be again compelled to halt and make inqubies. The two strangers whom I have thus abruptly introduced to my readers' notice, were the Count de Sevrac, an officer attached to the body guard of Louis XVI, and his confidential valet, Jacques — a dapper, lively, talkative, young febow, as self-conceited as a Parisian domestic is apt to be, and fond of boasting of his influence with the fab sex.

But, despite this weakness of character, he had a kindly heart, which, com bined with his ready address, and the fact of his having been in the Count's family ever since he ANNETTE. was a boy, made him a favourite with his mas ter, who ahowed him greater freedom of speech than he would have done under ordinary circumstances. Two feelings held nearly equal sway over Jacques's mind. One was his attach ment to the Count — the other, his sympathy with the revolutionary changes in progress throughout France. And, indeed, the period was one which might well have cabed forth his most sanguine expectations, for the " fierce democracy" were fuby awakened to a consciousness of theb growing power, and the aristocracy, alarmed bv the popular tokens of disbke to their order, which daily became more unequivocal, had, in a great degree — those at least among them who had not yet emigrated — laid asiae their pompous style of living; and whether sta tionary in the capital, or journeying in the pro vinces, had adopted the manners, together with the exterior, of the middle, and sometimes even of the lower classes.

" Well, Jacques," observed the Count, as they pursued theb way at a brisk trot through the straggling vibage, " I think you wib now admit that I w-as right in coming by the dilie ANNETTE. gence as far as Nantes. Had we taken horse from Paris, as you suggested, or travelled in my own carriage, we should scarcely have gone ten mbes in safety. Did you not hear the hoarse rabble-shouts that rose about us at every town we passed through, of Vivent les Sans-Cu lottes ? Ah, Jacques, the days are gone by, I fear for ever, when a French nobleman could show himself as such in public. There was but one man, Mirabeau, who could have saved us ; and he is dead. But w7hy do I speak of these things to you ? you can have no great interest in them." " Monsieur le Comte is right," repbed the valet, with an air of assumed deference, " it is not for one bke me to worry my poor brain about public affairs."

" Web said, Jacques," rejoined his master with a smbe ; " that is the most sensible re mark you have made since we left Paris." Thus encouraged, the valet resumed more familiarly, " Perhaps Monseigneur wib abow me to ask him why he has quitted Paris for a bar barous country like this, at a time when his Majesty, as I have heard, has need of all his ANNETTE. 53 friends ?" for Jacques had quitted the bustle and gaiety of tbe capital with much regret, and was, besides, bursting with curiosity. " Ask me nothing," replied the Count sternly, " but confine yourself to your own duties ; enough that it was my pleasure to quit Paris, and bid you accompany me." A long sbence followed this rebuke, during which the horsemen had pushed through the vibage and were entering upon a grassy plain of small extent, at the further end of which was a range of low7, green hibs, one or two of which appeared crowned with the ruins of castles.

A narrow strip of road, of the most primitive for mation, ran right through the centre of this level space, and in some places where the soil was rather marshy, trunks and branches of trees had been laid across it, and the interstices fibed up by stones, clay, and masses of turf, by way of giving it solidity. The travebers fobowed its course, their horses frequently stumbling as they proceeded, tbl they reached the base of the high lands, where the road to ab appearance terminated, and left them in no little perplexity. As, however, they had been told to keep in as ANNETTE. straight a line as possible, they ascended the hill, which was thickly clothed with short, fresh grasses, and on reaching the summit and looking about them, they discovered another smab path, which led them down into the midst of a cluster of fields, each of which was enclosed with hedges.

In the distance were seen thick, dark woods, amidst which peeped forth, here and there, the flat tile-roof of a farm-house, a white, naked cliff, or the steeple of some vibage church gleaming brightly in the evening sun. " A strange, wbd neighbourhood, this," said the Count de Sevrac, " one could scarcely sup pose oneself travebing in France." "True," replied his valet, shrugging his shoulders, and looking unutterable things ; " but what could Monseigneur expect from a country where the ladies — as we saw just before we entered the vibage — ride about in carriages drawn by oxen, and stare at us as if we were wbd beasts ? They are little better than savages, and I dare say, never so much as heard of Paris ! There was that poor, ignorant creature, Jeannette, as they called her at the farm-house, would you bebeve it, when I civbTy wished her ANNETTE. 55 good night, she looked as puzzled as if I were speaking in a foreign language."

This was said in pique, for Jacques had not yet forgotten or forgiven the wound inflicted on his vanity by Jeannette's refusal to take the slightest notice of him. " She is a pretty, modest girl, and I wib not have her found fault with. Remember," added the Count gravely, " you are not now in Paris, and must suit your behaviour — especiaby to wards the women — accordingly." " I wib observe what you say," replied the valet, for he was web aware that, although his master in general abowed him great latitude, there were points on which he exacted from him the strictest obedience. " Yes, Jacques," resumed the Count de Sevrac, "it is my pleasure that you conduct yourself quietly and decorously while you remain with me in La Vende'e. In no other part of France have I met with such kindness and courtesy, as I have experienced since we entered the Bocage.

Did you mark the difference of manner among the people after we left Nantes this morning ? I did, and was agreeably sur prised by the change." ANNETTE. " A change, indeed, Monseigneur ! They don't talk, or dress, or look, or act like French men. But it ab comes of their hving so far from Paris — and to harness oxen to their coaches too ! Who would have bebeved such a thing possible in France?" " Monstrous !" replied the Count, good humouredly, " yet there was a day, Jacques, when you first entered into my service, at Rheims, when you knew quite as bttle about Paris as these poor people." " Very true," rejoined the valet, pertly, " but for ab that, I never thought of making an ox do the duty of a horse, w7hich is going quite against the nature of things. I was not so ignorant as that, I hope."

Whbe they were thus conversing, evening stole on, the bright orange sky of the west had faded to a leaden tint, and the breeze, which had been languid ab day, began to freshen, and sweep before it large, watery masses of clouds. In stinctively the travebers quickened theb pace, in the hope of reaching some house or vblage where they might make further enqubies, or be furnished with a guide to the chateau, before darkness should settle down on earth. But no ANNETTE. 57 signs of a habitation appeared; the fields, too, which stretched away far and wide on either side of them, were deserted, the labourers having ab concluded their out-of-door work for the day, so that they had no other resource than to per severe in their present course and fobow the windings of a rugged cross-road, worn in a soft, clayey sob, between rows of pollards and high hedges which, in places, turned an untrained arch above their heads.

Having toiled a considerable time along this execrable apology for a road, across which lay numerous shabow pools, they came to a spot where it sloped by a gradual descent into a secluded hobow, whence two other roads branched off right and left. Here the Count halted, tib his servant, who was some yards in the rear, his horse being encumbered with the weight of a heavy valise which was strapped on behind him to the saddle, should come up ; when, after consulting together for a few minutes, they decided on taking the left-hand road, as looking more like a beaten track ; but so frequent and puzzling were its sharp, angular turns that, as they jogged along, they more than ANNETTE. once debated the propriety of making their way back to the village. To add to their embarrassment, twilight fell around them, clothing all things in its dim, grey mantle.

Soon afterwards, a few heavy drops began pattering on the leaves and branches on either side of them, and hardly had they got under shelter in a place where the tall spreading trees grew thickest above their heads, when down came the rain, hissing and spluttering so viciously, as threatened to break through their leafy roof and drench them to the skin. Fortunately, in about a quarter of an hour the shower abated as suddenly as it had commenced, and they got ready to move on again, and had advanced about a hundred yards, when, at a fresh bend of the road, they met a man who was journeying on horseback to the vblage they had so lately quitted. " Haboo, friend," exclaimed the Count, halting, as did also the person to whom this was addressed, " can you teb me whether I am in the right road to the Chateau de Chatihon ?"

" Yes ; but you are some distance off it yet," replied the countryman. ANNETTE. 59 Some distance ! How far ?" Between three and four leagues." " Impossible ! We w7ere told nearly the same at the last vibage, and we have ridden at least two leagues since then." It is astonishing how one's road makes a point of lengthening, as if from sheer spite, when one is tbed, and anxious to come to an end of one's journey. The last individual of whom a belated traveber makes inqubies, inva riably gives the same, or nearly the same, answer as to distance, as that given by the preceding one, so that the further we go, the further we stib appear to have to go. " Is there any house or vihage near us," resumed the Count de Sevrac, " where we can procure the services of a guide ?" " Lavabiere is nearly a league further on," was the reply, " and there you wib be sure to find some one who wib show you the way to the chateau."

" But how to get there, is the question. Are we to fobow the windings of this zig-zag bye path ?" " Yes ; until you come to where it branches off in three directions — " ANNETTE. " Three directions — Diable !" muttered Jac ques between his teeth. " You must then take that turn," continued the man, " which inclines most to the lest, and which wbl lead you through the wood to La vabiere. Good night, Messieurs." " Lead us through the wood !" exclaimed Jacques, pettishly, as the countryman trotted off, " that's easy enough said ; but when once we've got into this cursed wood, how are we to get out of it again." " There may be some difficulty, I grant," observed his master, " but w7e must do our best ; so push forward, Jacques, we have not a moment to lose." Again they set forward, but only to encounter fresh difficulties, for it was now quite dark, the moon not having yet risen ; and their horses kept stumbling incessantly from fatigue as web as from the rugged nature of the road, which was here soft and yielding, and there, as hard as if fashioned out of granite.