Chapter 11
Ignited by a Tragedy To Perish in a Farce
"Indulgence for the royalists, cry certain men, mercy for the villains! No! mercy for the innocent, mercy for the weak, mercy for the unfortunate, mercy for humanity."
Maximilien Robespierre, 1794
By Year III [1], the War in the Vendée [2] had simmered down to a turbulent occupation marked by irregular skirmishes against Royalists. Long gone were the days when the great Catholic and Royal Army of the Vendée, numbering 80,000 men, had posed a severe enough threat to be a primary threat to the revolution. The army had been destroyed, their pious faith being no match for revolutionary fervor, its leaders facing the guillotine or worse. By now, all that was necessary to pacify the region were the 30,000 men of the Army of the West, led by Jean-Baptiste Kléber, and their only remaining opposition, the Chouans [3], had been reduced to sporadic and desperate fighting as the revolutionaries slowly and methodically neutralized them. The closing of other fronts allowed the French military to bolster the forces of the last remaining active one. The new Continental peace had brought much despair to the royalists, who now saw defeat, and all the horrors associated with it, as inevitable lest the situation change radically.
Others also wished for a radical change in fortune for the royalists. Namely, the Prime Minister of Great Britain, William Pitt the Younger [4]. Pitt was certainly not very militarily minded. Although he was by all accounts an excellent administrator, it was to his great misfortune that he had the duty of overseeing the largest war in the history of the world, and one that was progressing quite badly for him at that time. There were no spoils of war for him to enjoy, no great victories for him to leverage support from, although he had certainly tried, as he had touted the navy's success during the overwhelmingly pompously named battle, the Glorious First of June, where the navy had completely failed to sink the convoy carrying vital grain supplies, which would have caused severe food shortages in France, had it not arrived but did succeed in sinking six ships. Hollow victories such as these turned to ash in Britannia's mouth, as her allies deserted her one after another, and the horrible revolutionary monster seemed to grow stronger by the day. The complete failure to prevent the fall of the Dutch Republic, in particular, was a defeat that shook Britain to its core. Pitt knew that he needed a strong, decisive victory, one that would genuinely turn the tide of the war. An opportunity to achieve just that was promised to him by Charles Philippe, the former count of Artois.
Charles Philippe had grand dreams of an Army of Émigrés [5] serving at the vanguard of a staggering royalist army that would make everything as it once was. First, the émigrés were to land in the northwest with British support, to rejuvenate the royalists still fighting, and to reignite the War in the Vendée, spreading the rebellion to all provinces of France. Then, they would march on Paris, where they would restore sanity and all would be right in the world. However, this was merely a fantasy. Their great "army" of émigrés that could be mustered for an invasion numbered just under 5,500 men, and they were hardly loyal and devout servants of the royalist cause. Many of them were former Republicans who had been taken prisoner and were just itching for a chance to desert. The widespread public support they were hoping for beyond the areas still in revolt was unlikely to emerge, as many found the new Jacobin status quo simply too acceptable to risk it all in support of a cause that was sure to bring nothing but more devastation in its wake. Nevertheless, the British saw some potential merits to the plan, as an invasion could potentially spark a new wave of royalist uprisings in the newly pacified areas, destabilizing France. This could, in turn, allow for the creation of a new coalition that could re-energize the counter-revolution and put the French on the back foot once more.
The planned invasion suffered an immediate stumbling block as while Charles Philippe had named Joseph-Geneviève de Puisaye [6] as the commander of the invasion force, London-based royalists had acted in the name of Louis Stanislav Xavier, the former count of Provence, and slandered Puisaye and demanded he be replaced by their man, Louis Charles d'Hervilly. Their demands were met by a compromise where de Puisaye would remain commander, while d'Hervilly would serve as deputy to assist de Puisaye. D'Hervilly, however, was given conflicting information as to how he was to fulfill his duties and decided that he himself was to act as an overall commander of the invasion, causing great confusion in the process. The disembarkation of the émigrés on the Quiberon peninsula in Brittany was initially met with great celebration by the Chouans, and 15,000 of them would proceed to rally to them over the course of the following days, especially once news spread that the British had landed 5,000 men to join the émigrés’ army. Three days after the beginning of the invasion, however, d'Hervilly proclaimed himself as the supreme commander of the expedition and demanded that his orders be followed. This caused great confusion among the soldiers and greatly angered Puisaye. Tensions between the two were greatly exacerbated by their differences, as while Puisaye was a former Girondin who advocated for a constitutional monarchy, d'Hervilly was a hardline royalist who had famously refused to cheer the tricolor flag and didn't let his soldiers cheer the Nation throughout his service as a colonel in Nantes during the early stages of the Revolution. Puisaye also lacked any combat experience, while d'Hervilly fought in the Second Battle of Savannah during the American War of Independence. Both also advocated for the opposite strategy, further fueling tensions between the two. Puisaye wanted to seize the initiative and act quickly before the revolutionaries could muster their superior strength to strangle the invasion in its crib. D'Hervilly, on the other hand, favored seizing control of Quiberon Bay and waiting for British reinforcements, not believing the Chouans disciplined enough to carry out any large-scale aggressive maneuvers. This paralyzed the royalist leadership, causing a considerably long delay, shattering Chouan morale in the process, as they began to have serious doubts about their chances of victory.
While the French royalists dithered, the British proceeded to land a further 8,000 men at Carnac, which they were only able to do because the Chouans had almost completely seized control of the coast in the previous days. The only remaining revolutionary stronghold in the area was Fort Sans-culottes, which was sure to fall once the émigrés finally decided which plan to follow. To provide assistance to their mainland counterparts (and to help even the odds due to the royalist's dithering), the naval escorts of the invasion sailed deeper into Quiberon Bay to provide extra firepower and to help secure the surrender of any remaining stalwart revolutionary forts in the area.
The entire invasion was made possible only because of the local naval superiority held by the British, as 32 ships commanded by Admiral Alexander Hood were involved in securing the sea for the landings. Three ships of the line and six frigates accompanied the convoy to escort it to Quiberon, while 14 ships of the line and 11 support ships stood further out to sea to intercept any attempted French Naval interference. This presented a unique opportunity for the French, as they mustered their naval forces to combat the larger British Fleet, while nine British ships were drawn deeper within the jaws of Quiberon Bay. Once news of the landings on Quiberon reached André Jeanbon, the representative on mission to the French Atlantic Fleet, he rapidly seized the initiative and mobilized a naval response to the British incursion. Thanks to Jeanbon, the French fleet had undergone rapid improvement and was a stark contrast from the shadow of its former self it had been during the early parts of the war. Its nearly perpetual issues of food scarcity and disrepair had made it very frail to the British Royal Navy. Thanks to the acquisition of vital supplies acquired through trade with its newfound partners on the continent, however, the French Atlantic Fleet was finally ready to contest the British on the high seas. The ongoing preparations for the invasion of Ireland required a large number of ships to be on standby in north-western France, providing the French with a multitude of ships nearby to contest the British with 25 ships of the line, six frigates, two corvettes, and three brigs commanded by Admiral Louis-Thomas Vilauret de Joyeuse. The two fleets neared each other, the vast expanse of the sea serving as the battleground for their struggle. The French, buoyed by their numerical advantage, the revitalized state of their fleet, and their unwavering faith in the Revolution, were eager to prove themselves against the British juggernaut. Meanwhile, British sailors were facing a larger adversary and were also plagued by poor morale due to the rampant impressment of sailors as well as poor conditions. Tension filled the air as the distance between the opposing fleets diminished. The sea swelled with the weight of impending conflict, waves crashing against the hulls of the ships, mirroring the rising anticipation and adrenaline of the sailors. Cannons were readied, sails adjusted, and crews stood at their posts, their eyes fixed on the enemy ships drawing nearer.
As the British and French fleets closed in on each other, the tension reached its peak. The commanding officers on both sides carefully assessed the situation, evaluating the wind, currents, and disposition of their respective forces. Each commander sought to exploit their advantages and exploit the weaknesses of their opponent. Admiral Vilauret de Joyeuse, at the helm of the revitalized French fleet, exuded confidence in his fleet's newfound strength.
On the other side, the British fleet, although formidable, faced a resurgent French force that was hungry for victory. Admiral Alexander Hood was aware that he had a challenging task ahead. Despite their tactical expertise and the experienced nature of his officers, they found themselves outnumbered and outmatched by the French fleet. As the distance between the two fleets diminished, the French unleashed devastating onslaught. Their cannons roared to life, firing with deadly accuracy at the British ships. Cannonballs tore through sails, splintered masts, and wreaked havoc on the hulls of the British vessels.
The French fleet, driven by a newfound spirit and determination, swiftly closed the gap. With superior numbers and a relentless assault, the French unleashed a barrage of firepower that overwhelmed their opponents. The British fleet found itself in disarray, struggling to mount a cohesive defence against the unyielding French onslaught. Ship after ship in the British fleet succumbed to the ferocity of the French attack. The once-imposing vessels were battered, and their defenses shattered under the relentless barrage. The French, emboldened by their success, pressed their advantage, showing no mercy, as they pursued retreating British ships.
The battle turned into a route as the French fleet pressed their advantage. The British ships, in disarray and unable to mount an effective counterattack, retreated in haste. The French pursued, relentlessly harrying the retreating British vessels, forcing them to scatter and seek refuge wherever they could. The sea, once a symbol of British naval dominance, witnessed a stunning reversal of fortune as of the 25 British ships that fought that day; 20 now remained afloat, sailing back north. The resurgent French fleet had not only held its ground but had also driven the British from the field of battle. The victory belonged to the French who had only lost two ships during the engagement, a testament to their revitalized naval prowess and the strategic ingenuity of Admiral Vilauret de Joyeuse. As the smoke cleared and the sea settled, the French fleet celebrated its hard-fought triumph. However, despite the ecstasy of having beaten the British at sea, the celebrations would have to be cut short, as many British ships were now vulnerable at Quiberon Bay.
Concurrently, Jean-Baptiste Kléber also wasted no time mobilizing his forces in response to the invasion. He had stripped garrisons of many of their men and was now rapidly gathering them to drive the royalists back into the sea. The scattered and disorganized nature of the counter-revolutionary forces was a great boon to Kléber, buying him invaluable time to organize his men.
After a full three days of disagreement, d'Hervilly finally acquiesced to Puisaye and his plans, but by then it was far too late. The element of surprise was long gone and any hopes of reigniting the counter-revolution along with it. The Army of the West had rapidly closed in on Quiberon Bay and had struck Carnac. Despite the spirited British resistance, the lack of local support and sheer numbers opposing them had forced them to retreat. The royalists made the critical mistakes of leaning far too much on British support and even dressing their émigrés in British uniforms, costing them the support of the local populations, who deeply distrusted foreigners. Kléber had by this point received word of the French victory at the naval Battle of Groix, which introduced an entirely new opportunity. If the French Atlantic Fleet were able to arrive and blockade Quiberon Bay, then not only would the three British Squadrons be annihilated, but so would every single enemy army currently present. Therefore, the Army of the West remained quiet and waited for word from the fleet.
Word would arrive that on 5 Thermidor [7], the fleet would finally arrive to crush the British. In the days leading to 5 Thermidor, the French decided to appeal to the French soldiers in the enemy armies, promising amnesty to whoever would put down their arms. It is not known how many followed this, but it is known that desertion was an endemic problem among the royalists.
Once the morning of 5 Thermidor finally arrived, the assault began. Most Chouan resistance melted away at the first signs of the French assault, as they had been so thoroughly demoralized by the preceding events. The émigrés did not fare much better, deserting and surrendering en masse. The only fighting force truly honoring themselves were the British, who, incidentally, were the only counter-revolutionary forces who were properly trained. The Naval assault also only exacerbated the situation, as the British Squadrons faced complete annihilation. Consequently, this meant the loss of all hope for the British as now there was truly no escape. Before nightfall, the British finally surrendered. The Battle of Quiberon had dealt the final death blow to the counter-revolution, as its last great leaders were executed and a large portion of the remaining royalists in France were decimated. Now it was simply a matter of when and not if the royalists would be destroyed. The Battle of Quiberon also meant the effective closing of the last active front of the war.
France was not the only area struggling against royalism, however. Emboldened by the liberation and annexation of Genoa, the Jacobins of Turin had started openly agitating for revolution, and the King of Sardinia-Piedmont, Victor Amadeus III, although a conservative and authoritarian by nature, was apprehensive about openly quelling such dissent, as he worried about attracting the ire of his zealous enemies in Paris and Bologna.
One key Piedmontese Jacobin leader was Giovanni Antonio Ranza, who reported directly to Filippo Buonarroti. Ranza had been agitating for revolution in Piedmont since Year I [8], and he had made contact with Buonarroti during the latter's time in Nice organizing expatriate Italian revolutionaries by order of Maximilien Robespierre preceding Bonaparte's invasion of Italy. In the aftermath of the Battle of Cuneo, Ranza had attempted to forge a new Republic in the French occupied towns in Piedmont, called the Republic of Cuneo. Like Buonarroti and Melzi d'Eril, Ranza had ambitions of not just overthrowing the monarchy, but also dreamed of unifying the entirety of the Italian peninsula itself. This did not come to be due to external geopolitical factors requiring the return of all occupied territory back to Sardinia-Piedmont in the aftermath of the peace agreement with France, ending the revolutionary project. An uneasy quiet had developed in the kingdom as a result, as the revolutionaries went underground and quietly organized themselves. Many of the Piedmontese revolutionary leaders had been former exiles organized by Buonarroti who had slipped in during the invasion. They were not the only exiles that were aligned with Buonarroti. He had used the contacts that he had formed organizing Italian expatriates to create a truly multinational network of informants and budding revolutionaries. The revolutionary project that was of most interest to Buonarroti, however, was that of the Kingdom of Naples.
Unlike the revolutionary and cosmopolitan areas of northern Italy, Naples was far more agricultural and conservative. It had a literacy rate that was far lower than that of its northern counterparts, and didn't even come close to that of Paris. It served as a useful place to test Buonarroti's theories on the natural stages of a civilized society, as Buonarroti had theorized that the first step for a civilized society was Monarchism, then Liberalism, then Jacobinism and finally Babouvism. Buonarroti was very aware that the material conditions in Naples necessitated an approach suited to the factors at play. Rather than replacing the Monarchy with a Republic immediately, Buonarroti suggested the Neapolitan Jacobins simply replace the King of Naples with one of his child sons, who could be easily controlled as well as allow for the formation of a 'Radical Regency' which could see to the fulfillment of Jacobin social goals as well as allow for the elimination of anyone perceived to be a potential threat to the safety of the Revolution.
This shocked many of the wide-eyed idealists that comprised the Neapolitan Jacobins. They were largely upper class nobles who idealized the Roman Republic and read philosophy texts. This was in direct contrast to the Lazzaroni [9] who, despite their methods being comparable to the Parisian sans-culottes, were staunch monarchists and fanatically loyal to the royal family in general but King Ferdinand I in particular, who often fraternized with them unlike most aristocrats of the time. He had also built an extensive system of espionage and cruelty that quashed all dissent, making his elimination a priority. Therefore, the only way to achieve progress in Naples was to remove Ferdinand I, and then ruthlessly purge the nation of all ultra-royalists using the very same systems of internal espionage that had been used to eliminate dissidents against his rule. This was somewhat hard to swallow for the Neapolitans', but they ultimately agreed due to Buonarroti's extensive influence, his seniority due to his position in the Cispadane Republic and also his contacts with Neapolitan dissident exiles, whom were increasingly in his ideological camp. Communication between the two sides was made possible thanks to Buonarroti pressuring the Papal States to allow Cispadane military and diplomatic access to the country. This allowed for Gennaro Serra, the Duke of Cassano and a leading Jacobin to secretly meet almost directly with the Cispadane government officials, out of sight from Royalist agents.
Later, libelous pamphlets began circulating in Naples, claiming that the Crown Prince of Naples, Francesco was not the legitimate heir to the throne. They alleged that he was the product of an affair between the Austrian-born Queen of Naples Maria Carolina and an army officer, and that the currently five-years old Prince of Salerno, Leopoldo, was the true heir to the throne. Attempts to stop the printing of these pamphlets proved ineffective, as the printing efforts were decentralized, anonymous and very well-funded, making the prevention of their spread virtually impossible. On 25 Thermidor [10], as the King was fraternizing with some lazzaroni, he was shot in the back by an assailant carrying two pistols. After shooting the King with one of them, he turned the other one on himself, shooting himself through the heart. The bullet had pierced the King through his right lung, causing him to choke to death. The event had shocked the nation, and immediately accusations began being thrown around regarding who was responsible for the assassination. The revelation that the assailant wasn't notable at all and seemed to have no known political affiliations did nothing to help matters. Once again, pamphlets began being distributed claiming that the assailant was an Austrian agent who assassinated the King on behalf of the Austrian government, who had received word that the truth regarding Prince Francesco's true parentage had been revealed. They also claimed that Francesco was nothing more than a puppet of Maria Carolina, who was accused of acting on the behalf of her mother country, Austria. Despite their claims, Francesco nevertheless ascended to the throne as Francesco I. He immediately began secluding himself within the walls of the royal palace, letting almost nobody aside from his most trusted advisors and family in.
Eight days after the death of King Ferdinand I, Welsh radical and the 'rural Rousseau', William Jones died at the age of 69. His final and most consequential work, his 'Will and Testament' was completed with the help of some members of the United Englishmen who had made contact with him and served as an abandonment of his previous belief that the Welsh people should emigrate to America, where they could found a new nation. Rather, he now called for the people of Wales to rise up in rebellion against the English crown, and to follow the French as an example. This inflamed tensions in Wales where it had previously been pretty quiet in comparison to Ireland. Jones' work was disseminated throughout Wales by people with United Englishmen and United Irishmen sympathies where it found a far greater audience than it might have otherwise.
[1]: 1795.
[2]: While the conflict started in the French Vendée region, it quickly spread to the other regions in north-west France.
[3]: Named after the Chouan brothers (and actually appearing concurrent to the far more famous Vendéeans) the Chouans were the primary royalist opposition to the Revolution in the West following the Virée de Galarne, which annihilated the Vendéeans.
[4]: William Pitt the Younger was so named as he was the son of William Pitt the Elder, who was Prime Minister of Great Britain from 1766-1768.
[5]: Émigrés (from 'to emigrate') were politically motivated exiles (typically of royalist persuasion) who were opposed to the revolution and emigrated to escape it.
[6]: Puisaye was actually the main planner behind the invasion and had convinced both Charles Philippe and William Pitt of its merits.
[7]: 23rd of July, 1795
[8]: 1793
[9]: The poorest of the poor, the equivalent of the sans-culottes of Paris but holding the complete opposite political leanings.
[10]: 12th of August, 1795.
