In 1994 I flew to France to join my girl scout Company for my third summer camp with them. This time the camp location was the region of Vendée, that struck me as beautiful as a bride but still bearing fresh wounds, two hundred years old...

For three weeks, in accordance with the camp's theme, we put ourselves in the skins of the Vendeans that bravely fought "pour Dieu et le Roy". Our roleplaying wasn't all pretense, as the Company was from Versailles with all that entails (two of the girls were actual descendants of Vendean leaders mentioned below), and even I have French noble blood in me.

The story of Vendée is a sad but moving saga and one of the all-too-numerous historical events that were overshadowed by more spectacular ones. The French Revolution is universally remembered today, but how many outside France have ever heard of the Vendean Wars?

This land deeply touched my heart and I have long wanted to talk about it.

The French Revolution caused deep religious changes in France: the old clergy was replaced with a new one – one that depended on the State rather than answering strictly to its own authority. In the countryside, especially the West, the Catholic religion had cohabitated peacefully with remains of Paganism for centuries. Rural priests knew better than to attempt to forbid practices such as the worship of sacred oaks, and by their understanding they earned the trust and fierce loyalty of their parishioners. For the peasants, to see "their" priests replaced by intruders was intolerable, a threat against their very faith. Rebellion ensued as well as a full-fledged war against the dictatorship of the "Blues"– the Revolutionaries or Republicans. As for the Vendeans, they called themselves the Whites after the colour of the king. Their emblem: the Sacred Heart, surmounted by a cross on a white field, worn on the chest. This vibrant symbol is still present all over Vendée, a poignant reminder of something the locals are not likely to forget. They even derived their own hymn from the rather bloody Marseillaise:

Allons armée catholique,
Le jour de gloire est arrive.
Contre-nous de la République,
L'étendard sanglant est levé,
L'étendard sanglant est levé!
Ontondez-vous dans tchiès campagnes
Les cris impurs diaux scélérats?
Le venant duchque dans vous bras
Prendre vous feuilles et vous femmes.
Aux armes Poitevins! Formez vous bataillons!
Marchons! Marchons!
Le sang daux Bieux rougira nos seillons!

(Come on, Catholic army! The day of glory has arrived. Keep the Republic at bay, the bloody standard has been raised! Do you hear in the country the impure cries of the renegades? They come all the way into your arms to take away your daughters and your wives. To arms inhabitants of Poitou! Form your battalions! Let us walk! The blood of the Blues will redden the fields.")

In March 1793 Vendée became a land isolated from the rest of France: the land of the counter-revolution, the scapegoat that the Republic concentrated on crushing. Leaders had sprung up in every village, all modest craftsmen or peaceful noblemen until injustice put fire in their hearts. Cathelineau (who was busy kneading bread when he was asked to become a leader), Bonchamps, d'Elb?e, Charette, Cathelineau, Lescure, Stofflet... Then of course there was 20-year-old La Rochejaquelein and his immortal words:
"Si j'avance, suivez-moi,
Si je recule, tuez moi,
Si je meurs, vengez-moi!"
(If I advance, follow me; if I retreat, kill me; if I die, avenge me.)

When war broke out the Vendeans fought without any weapons other than their work tools, but as they accumulated victories they gathered a good deal of ammunitions from the vainquished garrisons. The latter were originally small and unprepared for the uprising of the Vendean population, hence the relative ease with which they were beaten. However the courage of the Whites, their uncompromising loyalty to God and King, and their intimate relationship with their land, were what really made up for their ignorance of warfare.

The advantage of the White armies was, surprisingly, its indiscipline. It was composed of a small group of experienced fighters joined by a mass of men. This crowd was so impressive that the opposite army often just broke and ran, fooled by the number. These men rallied to the the troop when it moved close to their hometown, and left again after the battle, making the Vendean forces unseizable: whilst the Blue army was a sitting duck in case of defeat, the Whites simply scattered and went home and their army slipped like sand through the other's fingers.

Some women dressed up as men to participate in the fights; children worked as spies and messengers. Even windmills were put to good use to communicate signals over great distances: the wings could take four different positions to mean "at ease", "gather", "danger approaching" or "danger passed".

Vendée had a fearsome reputation <ETH> but it was overdone. D'Elbée's grim quote was actually quite lucid: "It is the struggle of the pot of clay against the pot of iron." Once more experienced Republican troops were sent to Vendée, things did not go so well for the Whites. The leaders did not always agree on movements of troops, and this caused several defeats; besides the Blues destroyed everything in their way, making life all but impossible throughout the country.

The battle of Cholet, on the 17th of October 1793, was the decisive event that begun the final the crushing of the Vendean rebellion. Most of her leaders who survived were summarily executed afterwards – d'Elbée was carried to the execution field in his chair as he was grievously wounded.

Yet through the tragic defeat a collective act of grace shines like a star...
Bonchamps, the beloved and skilled leader, was mortally wounded at Cholet and carried back to Saint-Florent with 100 000 Vendeans fleeing in front of the advancing Republican army. With them were brought 5000 Blue prisoners. In their fury and despair, the Whites were ready to exterminate them. The clamour of their "Death to the Blues!" cries reached Bonchamps on his deathbed. "My friends, you have always obeyed me... Mercy for the prisoners! Do not let me die without knowing that their lives will be spared". His last command, his final words flew from mouth to mouth. The weapons were dropped; the prisoners were saved.
In the 19th century David d'Angers would build a monument to immortalize "The Forgiveness of Bonchamps". The artist was a hardcore Republican and never accepted to sculpt a prince or a king, but his father had been one of the spared soldiers. His work was his way of giving thanks to the fallen hero.

The Republicans were not so chivalresque in their dealings with the thousands of Vendean resistants. Quoth a Blue: "Over here we use a different way to get rid of this mob. We cram all the rascals inside ships that we then sink. [...] Today we made about twelve hundred drink it this way." For a year or two an atrocious guerrilla war went on in the impenetrable broom forests of the region. With the lack of food and supplies, both sides reached such a degree of exhaustion that the republic offered a truce. The negociations granted Vendée a quasi-autonomy where she was allowed to keep "her soldiers, her cult, her laws". This illusory peace divided the royalist camp and eventually weakened it. The war was not over, and the fighters had not seen the last of battles. This time though, nobody wondered about the outcome: "Vive le roi quand même!" ("Long live the king anyway") was Stofflet's new, wry battle cry.

When the last Vendean leaders were killed in 1796, the fighting was officially over, yet the massacres were neither forgotten nor forgiven. It is difficult to estimate the number of victims, but roughly a third of the population of Vendée was massacred by the Revolutionaries. Victor Hugo wrote an incredible story in his usual profoundly humanistic style, set in the Vendean wars: "Ninety-three."

Even today Vendée remembers, often fiercely. Street plates commemorate the names of the Whites, and the oral tradition keeps them alive. In the Puy du Fou, a castle destroyed during the war and restored to be the center of a historical theme park on 18th-century Vendée, a living memorial is presented in a grandiose sound-and-light spectacle. The highlight of our camp was precisely this theme park and the show. It was so overwhelming we were singing royalist hymns for a month...

. Notes taken on the spot

. Martin, Jean-Clément, Blancs et Bleus dans la Vendée déchirée.

Article and illustration © Joumana Medlej