That evening a council of war was held by the different chiefs of the Vendeans in the Town Hall of Doue.  Lescure, Larochejaquelin, Cathelineau, d’Elbee, and Stofflet were there.  M. Bonchamps, who had been very severely wounded at Fontenay, but who had insisted on being carried along with his own men, was brought in on a litter.  Father Jerome was there, and another priest who had come with M. Bonchamps.  There were a couple of old royalist noblemen, not sufficiently active to take a part in the actual fighting, but sufficiently zealous in the cause to leave their homes for the purpose of giving the young commanders the benefit of their experience.  Foret also, Cathelineau’s friend, was present, and Adolphe Denot:  indeed many others, from time to time, crowded into the room, for the door was not well kept, nor were the councils of the generals in any way a secret.  Jacques Chapeau, as a matter of course, managed to make his way into the room, and took upon himself the duties of doorkeeper.

The Mayor’s arm-chair stood at the head of the table, as the leaders dropped into the room one after another, but no one appeared willing to occupy it.  Hitherto there had been no chief among the Vendeans; this was the first meeting which had been held with anything approaching to the solemnity of a general assembly, and it occurred to each of them that whoever should then seat himself in the Mayor’s chair, would be assuming that he was the chief leader of the revolt.

“Come, M. de Lescure,” said Stofflet, “we have much to do, and but little time; let us make the most of it:  do you take the President’s seat.  Gentlemen, I am sure we could have no better President than M. de Lescure?”

They all agreed, with the exception of the chosen leader.  “By no means,” said he.  “I was the last here who joined the cause, and I certainly will not place myself first among those who have led the way in the work we have taken up.  No; here is the man who shall be our President.”  And as he spoke he caught hold of Cathelineau, who was immediately behind him, and absolutely forced him into the chair.

“Indeed, indeed, M. de Lescure—­” said Cathelineau, endeavouring to extricate himself from the seat; but both his voice and his exertions were stopped, for three or four of them united to hold him where he was, and declared that he should be the President for the evening.

“Indeed, and indeed you will not stir,” said Henri, who stood behind his chair, and placed his hands heavily on the postillion’s shoulders.

“It was you that brought us here,” said de Lescure, “and you must not now avoid the responsibility.”

“Ah!  M. de Lescure,” said he, “there are so many more fitting than me.”

“Not one in all La Vendee,” said M. Bonchamps:  “sit where you are, Cathelineau.”

“You must do it, Cathelineau;” whispered his friend Foret; “the peasants would not endure to see any man put above you.”