died for the white flag; let us plant it on his grave; the dead should rejoice, for Madame comes to honor their fidelity.”  The example was followed, and the tombs bore the rallying sign of those who rested there.  When on the borders of the Loire, the Princess paused a moment, struck with the majesty of the scene.  The cannon mingled their noble voices with the acclamations of fifteen thousand Vendedans.  The stream was covered with a swarm of boats, dressed with flags.  A magnificent sun lighted up this fete.

It was ten o’clock when Madame arrived at Milleraye, opposite Saint Florent.  It was there that General de Bonchamp, one of the heroes of the Vendee, had given up his soul to God.  The cottage where the soldiers had laid him to die was shown.  His widow awaited the Duchess of Berry.  What contrast between the festivity of Saint Florent and the consternation of the days of grief and misfortune, when, in October, 1793, its people fled to the right bank of the Loire, leaving their houses a prey to the flames!  The cries of distress and despair which sounded along the banks of the stream in that fatal year, were now replaced by shouts of joy.  Madame embarked amid cheers.  Her boat was escorted by a great number of others, six of which contained Vendeans bearing flags torn by bullets in the battles of Fontenay and of Torfou, of Laval, and of Dol.  Grouped on the hill-slopes of Saint Florent, more than fifteen thousand spectators followed with their gaze the flotilla, in the midst of which they saw the Duchess of Berry, standing, visibly agitated.  She landed upon the plateau of Saint Florent, and ascended on foot the hill that led to it.  When she reached the summit, she found herself in the midst of a camp of five thousand Vendean soldiers who had taken part in the war of 1793 or in the arming of 1815.  There it was that Cathelineau, as in the time of the crusades, cried:  “It is God’s will.  Let us march!”—­“Oh, what a people!” said the Princess.  “What fine and honest faces!  What an accent in their cries of ’Long live the King!’ Yes, plainly they love us.”  She proceeded to the church of Saint Florent, where, kneeling beneath a canopy, she heard Mass.  She regarded with attention the tomb of Bonchamp, and said, as she beheld his statue:  “He looks as if he were still commanding.”

On leaving the church, she went to see the place where Bonchamp is buried, and, under a tent, partook of a repast offered her by the Countess d’Autichamp.  She had recounted to her in detail the celebrated passage of the Loire, the disastrous period when all the city of Saint Florent was burned by order of the Convention, and the only house left standing was the one occupied by the republican General LEchelle as his headquarters.