when sustained by government, come to nought against the inflexibility
of a population given over to the habits of immemorial routine. This
unfortunate condition is partly accounted for by the nature of the
land, broken by ravines, mountain torrents, lakes, and marshes, and
bristling with hedges or earth-works which make a sort of citadel of
every field; without roads, without canals, and at the mercy of
prejudices which scorn our modern agriculture. These will further be
shown with all their dangers in our present history.

The picturesque lay of the land and the superstitions of the
inhabitants prevent the formation of communities and the benefits
arising from the exchange and comparison of ideas. There are no
villages. The rickety buildings which the people call homes are
sparsely scattered through the wilderness. Each family lives as in a
desert. The only meetings among them are on Sundays and feast-days in
the parish church. These silent assemblies, under the eye of the
rector (the only ruler of these rough minds) last some hours. After
listening to the awful words of the priest they return to their
noisome hovels for another week; they leave them only to work, they
return to them only to sleep. No one ever visits them, unless it is
the rector. Consequently, it was the voice of the priesthood which
roused Brittany against the Republic, and sent thousands of men, five
years before this history begins, to the support of the first
Chouannerie. The brothers Cottereau, whose name was given to that
first uprising, were bold smugglers, plying their perilous trade
between Laval and Fougeres. The insurrections of Brittany had nothing
fine or noble about them; and it may be truly said that if La Vendee
turned its brigandage into a great war, Brittany turned war into a
brigandage. The proscription of princes, the destruction of religion,
far from inspiring great sacrifices, were to the Chouans pretexts for