It has been a difficult task to piece together the fragmentary documents which alone throw a light--dim and flickering at the best--upon that mysterious personality known to the historians of the Napoleonic era as the Man in Grey. So very little is known about him. Age, appearance, domestic circumstances, everything pertaining to him has remained a matter of conjecture--even his name! In the reports sent by the all-powerful Minister to the Emperor he is invariably spoken of as "The Man in Grey." Once only does Fouche refer to him as "Fernand."
Strange and mysterious creature! Nevertheless,
he played an important part--the most important, perhaps in bringing
to justice some of those reckless criminals who, under the cloak
of Royalist convictions and religious and political aims, spent
their time in pillage, murder and arson.
Strange and mysterious creatures, too, these
men so aptly named Chouans--that is, "chats-huants";
screech-owls--since they were a terror by night and disappeared
within their burrows by day. A world of romance lies buried within
the ruins of the chateaux which gave them shelter--Tournebut,
Bouvesse, Donnai, Plelan. A world of mystery encompasses the names
of their leaders and, above all, those of the women--ladies of
high degree and humble peasants alike--often heroic, more often
misguided, who supplied the intrigue, the persistence, the fanatical
hatred which kept the fire of rebellion smouldering and spluttering
even while it could not burst into actual flame. D'Ache Cadoudal,
Frotte, Armand le Chevallier, Marquise de Combray, Mme. Aquet
de Ferolles--the romance attaching to these names pales beside
that which clings to the weird anonymity of their henchmen--"Dare-Death,"
"Hare-Lip," "Fear-Nought," "Silver-Leg,"
and so on. Theirs were the hands that struck whilst their leaders
planned--they were the screech-owls who for more than twenty years
terrorised the western provinces of France and, in the name of
God and their King, committed every crime that could besmirch
the Cause which they professed to uphold.
Whether they really aimed at the restoration
of the Bourbon kings and at bolstering up the fortunes of an effete
and dispossessed monarchy with money wrung from peaceable citizens,
or whether they were a mere pack of lawless brigands made up of
deserters from the army and fugitives from conscription, of felons
and bankrupt aristocrats, will for ever remain a bone of contention
between the apologists of the old regime and those of the new.
With partisanship in those strangely obscure
though comparatively recent episodes of history we have nothing
to do. Facts alone--undeniable and undenied--must be left to speak
for themselves. It was but meet that these men--amongst whom were
to be found the bearers of some of the noblest names in France--should
be tracked down and brought to justice by one whose personality
has continued to be as complete an enigma as their own.