catch the Chouans on the flank and prevent them from posting
themselves as sharp-shooters among the trees, where they could pick
off the Blues without risk to themselves; for in these wars the
Republican troops never knew where to look for an enemy.

These arrangements, hastily made, gave confidence to the soldiers, and
they advanced in silence upon the Chouans. At the end of a few seconds
each side fired, with the loss of several men. At this moment the two
wings of the Republicans, to whom the Chouans had nothing to oppose,
came upon their flanks, and, with a close, quick volley, sent death
and disorder among the enemy. This manoeuvre very nearly equalized the
numerical strength of the two parties. But the Chouan nature was so
intrepid, their will so firm, that they did not give way; their losses
scarcely staggered them; they simply closed up and attempted to
surround the dark and well-formed little party of the Blues, which
covered so little ground that it looked from a distance like a
queen-bee surrounded by the swarm.

The Chouans might have carried the day at this moment if the two wings
commanded by Merle and Gerard had not succeeded in getting in two
volleys which took them diagonally on their rear. The Blues of the two
wings ought to have remained in position and continued to pick off in
this way their terrible enemies; but excited by the danger of their
little main body, then completely surrounded by the Chouans, they
flung themselves headlong into the road with fixed bayonets and made
the battle even for a few moments. Both sides fought with a
stubbornness intensified by the cruelty and fury of the partisan
spirit which made this war exceptional. Each man, observant of danger,
was silent. The scene was gloomy and cold as death itself. Nothing was
heard through the clash of arms and the grinding of the sand under