The French Revolution
is a rupture in the history of humanity.
Forever, there will be the before and the after.
The Revolution is favorably received.
Vendée does not stand out among the rest of the kingdom.
There is much hope in the promised reforms.
Promises are put into writing in grievance notebooks,
which are requested from every parish, every corporation.
Soon enough, people will be disappointed
and will take up arms against the French Revolution.
The rebellion breaks out everywhere, very violently.
It's a spontaneous movement, a popular movement
that organizes fairly quickly.
It's astonishing in this war of Vendée.
There is a rapid organization
around, for example, recognized leaders.
In one week, we see things getting organized.
So obviously, the first thing,
we see in uprisings under the old regime,
is to seek out people whom we trust.
People who are known before, in the village,
because they held important political positions,
because they have charisma.
We seek them out because we need to trust these leaders.
François-Athanase Charette de La Contrie
is the most well-known Vendean leader.
He held out the longest. He was called the king of Vendée.
Charette is a rebel.
Yes, and he's a rebel who achieves successes,
who also experiences failures and who is extremely conscious
of the limits of his power, the limits of his action.
Vendée is a big question mark.
Why Vendée?
How Vendée? Why did it come to this?
Vendée is a human story, of men.
It's a story of heroism, of commitment.
Charette was the ultimate hero.
The reference.
Charette is also about honor.
Honor.
Cries and protests in the distance.
Scream.
Intriguing music.
Deep breath.
My heart still beats.
Yet tomorrow,
I will be dead.
I am far from being a saint.
But I will not go to hell.
For I have come from hell.
They have turned Vendée into hell.
That summer, I see nothing coming.
The Revolution promises a better world, we only talk about freedom and equality.
I fought for freedom,
in America, during the War of Independence.
My name is François-Athanase Charette de La Contrie.
I spent my entire career as an officer in the Royal Navy.
On the seas of the world, in the heat of battles.
The Revolution overturns my life.
I am only 30 years old and have no future.
Do you see what you have around your neck?
It's the archangel Saint Michael.
It means you are well protected.
You will become a great knight. Right?
Good blood cannot lie. Right, my son?
My poor friend, nothing remains of your knighthood.
Do you see this?
- No, what? - This distaff
hanging on our door. Do you know what it means?
The reward of the cowards.
Of those who dare not arm themselves against the Revolution.
Of those who prefer hunting
and chasing skirts.
I am leaving for Nantes tomorrow.
Will you come?
Woodcocks.
And a distaff.
These are the trophies that the knight Charette will leave to history.
The peasants are beginning to lose hope.
After the fine promises, the Revolution brings threats.
Priests who refuse to swear allegiance to the Constitution
are hunted down.
They hide to celebrate Mass.
Helplessly, I watch
our world collapsing.
And this is only the beginning.
The Republic sends our king Louis XVI to the scaffold.
His beheading causes a shockwave throughout Europe.
Revolutionary France is overwhelmed on all fronts.
It needs cannon fodder.
That's the spark that ignites the gunpowder.
Fire!
The National Convention
has decreed the conscription of 300,000 men to fight on the eastern border
against the enemies of liberty.
Protests.
We don't want your liberty!
PEACE!
No!
War!
War is Europe of crowned tyrants.
In Coblenz, in Mainz,
everywhere.
Where is this, Mainz?
Why should I die fighting against enemies I don't know?
Protests.
What greater honor than to shed one's blood
for the homeland?
The conscripted citizens will be selected by drawing lots.
NO!
Leave our sons on our fields.
We need hands, lads.
Cheers.
The Republic has no need for harvests
when the army of tyrants threatens to trample liberty.
That liberty
which France has planted on its soil
and which it must sow throughout the world.
- Well spoken. - They are being booed.
Come, my son.
- Please. - Sworn priest.
Join the devil, you serve the good God no more.
Protests.
Give us back our good priests!
Usher, proceed with the drawing.
NO!
Black ball, conscripted.
White ball, exempt.
Discontented exclamations.
I call Citizen Germain Goulard.
- He's my son. - He's a municipal officer.
He's exempt, my son.
Everyone contributes to the Republic.
We need soldiers,
and men of the law.
Protests.
Silence! Enough!
Usher, continue.
I call Citizen Jacques Maupillier.
No, not my son!
Leave him alone!
Gunshot.
Jacques! He's hit!
Jacques! Jacques!
Jacques!
Tragic music.
Cry of rage.
Be cursed!
Cursed! I curse you all!
Thousands of peasants gather
to take up arms
and defend what they hold dearest.
Their sons,
their faith,
- their king. - Dad!
Bell ringing.
On their chests, they wear the Sacred Heart of Jesus
as protection, a rallying sign.
These lads are tough.
But facing the soldiers of the Republic,
the Blues, as they call them,
they need officers to lead them.
I knew sooner or later they would come for me.
I wasn't prepared.
- Come out, Charette. - Charette!
Charette!
- We know you're there! - Show yourselves.
Muffled cries.
You cannot ignore them.
You must speak to them.
Tell them what?
That their fight is futile? That they have gone mad?
Soon, they will have an army against them.
Do you think they can resist with their pitchforks and scythes?
A riot is one thing.
- War is another. - They are asking for you.
They need a leader.
A leader who knows the art of war.
I am a sailor.
War on land...
Especially against armies that defy all of Europe.
They will make short work of a band of farmers.
It's sheer madness.
Clamor - Come on, follow me.
Where is he?
Search every room.
Look everywhere.
Where is he hiding?
He's not here.
He's out hunting.
Hunting?
Look at what's left of the knight Charette.
He has fled, that nobleman.
We don't want his boot, but his head.
The crowd is in a frenzy.
We will eventually find him.
No courage, these pale faces.
This Charette is a coward.
Who are you calling a coward?
Wait for me outside.
Dramatic music.
In my family,
we have paid the blood tax for centuries.
It's a duty.
And an honor.
We must fulfill it with panache.
I want to be that man.
I want to be the man of panache.
So be it.
I will be your leader.
But let things be clear.
When I give orders,
they will be obeyed.
I expect loyalty
and fidelity from you.
If you want to fight,
you must be ready to make all sacrifices.
Even the sacrifice of your life.
I swear before you
here in Fonteclose,
to return only dead or victorious.
Do you swear to follow me to the end?
YES!
YES! YES!
Intense music.
Loyal to each other.
For God.
And for the king.
LONG LIVE THE KING! LONG LIVE THE KING!
Peasants are coming from all over to fight by my side.
Among my most loyal,
Jean-Baptiste René de Couëtus,
a former officer in the royal army.
I make him my right-hand man.
And the young Prudent de La Robrie,
a hothead.
I entrust him with the command of the cavalry.
The Abbot Remaud,
my confessor, my confidant.
And the chaplain of my army.
And then,
there are my amazons.
At first, I am just a gang leader among others.
South of the Loire, a great army is forming.
It takes the name of the Catholic and Royal Army.
They are our brothers in arms.
But for the Republic,
we are bandits.
Heroic music.
The Blues
have 4,000 men around Challans.
We are outnumbered in soldiers,
outnumbered in weaponry. In short,
outnumbered altogether.
Except in courage.
I can't wait to skewer those peasants.
We'll see what remains of our courage
when the Blues start firing.
Armed and with faith in our hearts,
God will guide us.
Prudent,
you don't live up to your name.
Faith is not a shield against gunfire.
General.
Faith may not save our bodies,
but it will surely save our souls.
Well, Abbot,
bless these souls tomorrow before the battle.
You will form the line and await my command.
- At your orders. - Prudent.
You will lead the cavalry and charge at my signal.
At your orders, General.
And me?
What will be my role?
Gentlemen, this is my neighbor.
The Countess Adélaïde de La Rochefoucauld.
I come to fight.
Fight you?
Come on, I know you're fearless, but
it wouldn't be chivalrous to lead a lady to the slaughter.
- That's what awaits us. - Only God knows what awaits us.
Keep your chivalry for better days.
Let's be serious, the Blues are already mocking us
for facing peasants.
What will they say when they see soldiers in skirts?
I salute your courage,
but I highly doubt
that your beautiful attire will be useful in the heat of battle.
I am prepared
with many other charms to pay my respects to the Blues.
We need soldiers.
Fine, but you will remain behind the lines.
My place is closest to the fire.
Whether you like it or not.
Intense music.
On that morning,
the Blues face us with their cannons.
For my men, it's their baptism by fire.
The clash is terrible.
The peasants flee at the first shots.
Those who remain are cut to pieces.
I am a sailor.
This is my first war on land,
and the plain does not swallow the corpses.
What do I look like now?
The armies of Anjou and Poitou treated us with contempt.
What's at stake is the success of our cause.
We need more soldiers.
Let's unite
with the Catholic and Royal Army.
For the other generals, I'm just a naval cadet.
Strengthen our cavalry and charge
without faltering this time.
I've said it before, you can't fight cannons
with pitchforks!
Dark music.
Courage is not enough.
We need to change tactics.
Suspenseful music.
Let's reject the war as the Blues impose it on us.
They are not from this land.
We are.
The bocage will be our fortress.
The hedges will be our harrows, the enemy will collide with them.
Let's make them leave the main roads.
Let's lure them into the paths,
let them get stuck in the ruts.
Let's stay on the lookout.
Lying in wait. Everywhere
and nowhere. Invisible
and unpredictable. Pounce on the prey
like a falcon to break their line.
Harass them, entangle them.
Take the loot and leave.
- Like pirates. - Like corsairs.
Tense music.
Observe from afar.
Take the artillery and the supplies.
Move!
Go.
And what about them?
Cut them to pieces to avenge our brothers.
The Blues show no mercy.
You can't be serious.
A gentleman does not massacre his prisoners.
Swear to no longer bear arms
against Vendée.
And you will be spared.
Go home.
The Republic will not relent
until you trample the faith of our fathers.
Shave their heads to recognize them.
Sir,
your clemency honors you.
It won't always be like this.
Pfeiffer.
I stay in Vendée.
To fight by your side.
Who are you?
- My name is Pfeiffer. - 72nd infantry regiment.
Let me serve under your command.
You won't regret it.
The future will tell if I did the right thing sparing you.
Pfeiffer.
Maupillier, Couëtus, forward!
Come on, move. Let's go!
Come on, hurry up. Go!
Soft music.
It's a full moon, my friends!
To your health, to your health.
Hey, captain!
Gentlemen, this cannon suits you perfectly.
- And it's just the first one. - I hope so.
Gentlemen, ladies.
You've had too much to drink.
Festive music.
Come on, my friend. Have a drink!
You almost died today.
I would have bled you like a pig.
It's better to be the butcher than the victim.
Instead of arguing, let's get drunk.
To CHARETTE!
- My sons, my sons. - The music stops.
My sons.
Above all, let us thank heaven for this victory.
- Let us give thanks. - Come on, abbé.
There is a time for everything. Tonight,
I want joy to reign in my camp.
Let's drink.
Let's drink all night and dance! The music resumes.
- We'll settle it in confession. - My brother!
- My little Marie-Anne. - I've heard about your victories.
Pornic, Pont-James, Legé.
The hardest part is yet to come.
Tonight, the time is for celebration, my sister.
- It's a true beauty. - Oh, my friend, it's her sister.
And who is she?
- Our Amazon. - Venus of our god Mars!
Would you grant me this dance?
I grant it to you.
I saw you in action during the assault.
I didn't know you had such spirit.
Am I impressing you?
Always.
The Republic took everything, I have nothing left to lose.
Oh, really?
I have much to lose.
Especially you.
I don't belong to you, knight.
And who is she?
She, Céleste Bulkeley, the Irishwoman.
- An Irishwoman? - No, an Angevin.
She married an Irish nobleman.
As long as she marries all of us.
Let's hope she wields the sword just as well.
Applause.
You command an army.
I want to fight with you.
Do you want to embrace lost causes?
I embrace whatever I please.
Then let's embrace victory.
TO VICTORY!
Everyone repeats.
Upbeat music.
In the spring of 1793,
all of Vendée is in flames.
We soar from victory to victory.
Torrents of volunteers pour into the countryside.
The major cities of the west fall.
Saumur, Cholet, Angers.
I begin to dream.
But alas, the momentum of our victories is shattered
against the ramparts of Nantes.
The assault turns into a disaster.
Gunshots Screams.
Nantes has held, fine.
The Vendéens have given us the high ground.
They know nothing about the art of war.
Charette still resists.
They are preparing a new assault.
Nantes wants an end to this.
Solemn music
15,000 heavily armed elite soldiers.
The clash takes place on September 19 on the hills of Torfou.
Soldiers, halt!
The Vendéens have given us the heights.
They know nothing about the art of war.
Charette still resists.
They are preparing a new assault.
Join the army.
No quarter, no prisoners.
Intriguing music.
My friends, we are the last bastions
of a monarchy of 1,000 years.
And against us,
the storm of History rages.
The army facing us
is said to be the best in the world.
But these soldiers,
we can defeat them!
For our cause is just
and your heart is pure!
If you flee,
all is lost.
If you stay united,
if you stand as one, together,
we are a family.
Together, we are an idea.
Together,
we are immortal.
It will be on this land of Torfou,
on this land soaked with the enemy's blood,
that the lilies will bloom again.
It is here
that we will conquer
or die.
Charette launches the assault.
Poignant music.
Artillery.
Fire!
Charge.
Beaupuy, the right flank!
Retreat, Beaupuy!
Retreat! Retreat!
Our flank has been attacked by Bonchamps.
Where do they come from?
Where did these brigands
- learn to fight? - General.
Reform the ranks.
Sound the retreat.
Do not flee before these scoundrels!
General,
the battle is lost. Limit the losses.
General.
Dreamy music.
Unexpected victory.
Unfortunately,
the bulk of the Mayence army managed to retreat in good order.
Instead of pushing our advantage, we divide our forces
at the moment when we could change the course of history.
We will pay dearly for it.
Just a month later,
the Blues take a crushing revenge at Cholet.
The Vendéen generals rely on external aid.
They decide to take a port in Brittany
to encourage an English landing.
A human tide crosses the Loire in a panic.
This is the beginning of a long exodus into the unknown.
It is madness.
As for me,
I remain in Vendée.
They have all gone.
She too.
It is said of me that I am a traitor.
That I should have embarked in that exodus.
But I know that history will be decided here,
on the land of our fathers.
After several weeks of hope,
their expedition turns into a nightmare.
Starved, ravaged by diseases,
our brothers are massacred in the marshes of Savenay.
The great Catholic and royal army is annihilated.
Henceforth,
I am alone facing the enemy.
They send a new executioner for the Vendée to Nantes.
Jean-Baptiste Carrier.
A scavenger.
The law encourages us to dispense justice without faltering.
If means are lacking, we will find them.
If the guillotine is not enough,
we will eliminate the enemies of freedom with gunfire.
If we must conserve powder,
we will drown them in the Loire.
I have full power to enforce the laws
which provide for the extermination of the brigands.
The brigands, those who support them,
and those who cannot justify their patriotic ardor.
The lukewarm, the moderates, the defeatists!
It is with their blood that we will cement the Republic.
In Nantes, the guillotine is working at full capacity.
To speed up the process, they drown women, old people,
and children in the Loire.
In one winter,
thousands of innocents perish in that river
which Carrier nicknames the national bathtub.
The Terror rages against my loved ones,
Couëtus's wife,
Prudent's parents.
Even my little cousins, the youngest of whom is 17.
They will all pass through the scaffold.
Dramatic music.
Cries.
Ready, aim.
Fire!
The war is lost.
However, Vendée has not yet seen anything.
It enters its great martyrdom.
The Republic wants to exterminate us in our homes.
It calls us a cursed race.
General Turreau's plan is adopted.
To crisscross Vendée with 12 incendiary columns
with orders to burn everything.
We call them the Infernal Columns.
Thousands of soldiers descend upon our villages.
Everywhere, they bring the sword,
the fire.
Dramatic music.
My darling, my love.
Take Joséphine with you.
Run into the forest. Hide yourself.
Run as fast as you can.
I love you, my darling. Go.
Go, run. Run, darling.
Men are nailed to the doors of barns.
Women are raped, slaughtered.
Some are burned alive or thrown into wells.
Children are killed with bayonets
in their mothers' arms.
- Slaughter them! - Look at him!
Let's put an end to these dogs.
Dark music.
The unspeakable.
Muffled screams.
The unthinkable.
Everywhere,
death.
Muffled cries.
Melancholic music.
Their columns have not had the desired effect.
The survivors have nothing left to lose.
By the thousands, they join me,
furious in their hearts.
Vendée rises from its ashes.
In the labyrinth of the hollow paths,
we continue our ambushes.
We achieve some victories.
The Blues,
like us, are out of breath.
Tense music.
Charette and his men have set fire
to the Roullière camp.
After having burned
all of Vendée,
now it is setting us on fire.
Charette has been defying us for months.
With 3,000 men and no artillery. He is everywhere.
Nowhere and everywhere.
We must put an end to Charette.
The Terror has failed. Worse, it has strengthened him.
Do you think
we should be lenient?
What if we try compromise?
Negotiate with these brigands?
You must be kidding?
A compromise will be seen as a betrayal.
Not if it aims to deceive the enemy.
It's time to rebuild our strength, to attack better tomorrow.
If you want war, prepare for peace.
What do you propose, Citizen Ruelle?
Amnesty for the brigands
and a peace treaty,
but on our terms.
The Vendéens want to return to their homes and cultivate their land.
- They will accept it. - Charette will never accept.
He has vowed to fight
until death.
Not if we let him believe
that he is in a position of strength.
Do you think the Convention would support your initiatives?
Oh...
Probably not officially.
But unofficially, perhaps.
If Vendée lays down its arms,
the Convention will know
to turn a blind eye to certain principles.
We need to find an intermediary.
Someone close.
Charette is suspicious of everyone.
He's not wrong.
We are betrayed only by our own.
Isn't that right,
Citizen Bureau de La Batardière?
I know who can lead us to Charette.
Calming music.
Athanase!
I was so scared.
How is my son?
Dramatic music.
General.
I am Citizen Bureau de La Batardière.
I come to negotiate with you.
On behalf of Deputy Ruelle.
Bureau de La Batardière.
A nobleman.
The Republic welcomes all men of goodwill.
Too much blood has been shed,
- don't you think? - Our blood.
Our blood more than yours.
You have no choice.
You're just buying time.
- The Republic wants peace. - Don't let this chance slip away.
Peace.
They want peace.
At what price?
I don't know your conditions,
but I guess they are unacceptable.
Amnesty.
Free exercise of worship.
The right to keep your armies, the return of your properties.
In exchange for what?
The Republic has only one condition.
That Vendée fully recognizes
the legitimacy of the new form of government of France.
Its legitimacy.
Let's take a few steps, General.
I have an offer to make you.
I don't like whisperings without a priest.
The Republic promises what it doesn't have.
We have an agreement, General?
You have my word.
And I have yours.
The agreement will be concluded when the word
is kept.
I will convey your response to Deputy Ruelle.
He will be happy to announce to the Convention
that peace is soon to be achieved in Vendée.
The future will tell.
Intriguing music.
What are you thinking?
That life plays tricks on me.
It tears away my son.
And asks me to save someone else's child.
Whom are you talking about?
No one.
Enigmatic music.
(- Knight. Knight.)
(Knight.)
(Wake up.)
The peace treaty grants to the pacified territory of Vendée
complete freedom of the Catholic faith,
financial compensation
for homes destroyed by the war,
exemption from service
in the armies of the Republic
and the withdrawal of Republican troops stationed in Vendée.
- In exchange for... - It is a state
within the state that we concede to them.
In exchange for,
the entire population of Vendée
fully and unconditionally recognizes
the new form of government of France.
The Republic, one and indivisible,
as proclaimed on September 20, 1792.
Here are all the clauses
approved by the National Convention.
One condition is not mentioned.
And it's not insignificant.
For it to be fulfilled,
this condition must remain confidential.
Why should we believe you?
You have my word.
What is the worth of the word of a regime that massacred
women, elderly, and children?
Peace deserves that we forget the past
to build the future.
Dramatic music.
- Long live peace. - LONG LIVE PEACE.
LONG LIVE PEACE. LONG LIVE PEACE.
Know that a Vendéen never forgets.
Poignant music.
The day after the La Jaunaye agreements,
a grand celebration of pacification is organized in Nantes.
Nantes.
The Republican stronghold
that witnessed the Loire carrying countless corpses.
Becomes the symbol of peace.
A year ago, to them, I was the general of the brigands.
Now,
they call me the king of Vendée.
Intriguing music.
Kill him!
Melancholic music.
Was it necessary
to go through this cursed place?
We must remind them how the Republic punishes the brigands.
That will discourage them from taking up arms again.
Am I dealing with
a true republican?
Am I dealing with a genuine man of peace?
Peace is made,
since you accept the Republic.
Isn't that right, citizen?
Peace will last
as long as the Republic keeps its promises.
The days turn into weeks.
Weeks turn into months.
Vendée is stuck in a deceptive peace.
This condition must remain confidential.
Save me.
Anything can still change.
Who are you, sir?
I am Chevalier Athanase Charette de La Contrie.
I am a Naval officer,
in service to His Majesty,
the King of France.
And you, who are you?
My name is Louis.
Some say that I am Louis XVII,
King of France and Navarre.
Some also say that I am dead.
There's knocking.
The thunder roars.
There's knocking.
General.
General, the Chouans have resumed the fight.
The army of the émigrés will land
with the assistance of the British fleet.
All of Brittany will rise up.
General,
let's take up arms again.
I'm waiting for news from Deputy Ruelle.
General, why hold on to the word of that deceiver?
Time is of the essence, and we waste it on a chimera.
This chimera, as you call it,
let me tell you what it's about.
Or rather, who it's about.
About the King of France, Louis XVII.
I have their word that he will be handed over to us,
otherwise, the peace will be broken.
The Republic isn't so foolish.
They will kill the child king, just as they killed the royal family.
Athanase.
What will they say about you when they know you were deceived?
I take the risk.
This peace is only a truce, we know it.
When the army of the émigrés lands, war will be inevitable.
Meanwhile,
if there is the slightest chance that this liberation may happen,
it is worth trying.
The life of the King of France is worth more than the reputation
of a provincial gentleman.
What honor does this visit bestow upon me?
I come, in accordance with our agreements,
to verify that no gathering of fighters is taking place.
We are at peace.
That's not the feeling your friends' landing evokes.
It's peace that motivates you when you deploy
troops in Vendée?
Come now, Travot.
Why have you come?
I have a letter
from Deputy Albert Ruelle.
Finally, he sends news.
I hope it's good news.
Sir.
Tell your superiors
that peace is broken.
Definitely.
In that case,
we will meet again soon.
On the field of honor.
Pfeiffer.
Sound the call to arms immediately.
Dramatic music.
Louis XVII is dead.
Thrilling music.
At the beginning of summer 1795,
The brother of Louis XVI,
the heir to the throne of France, writes to me.
He acknowledges my military achievements and appoints me lieutenant general.
My legitimacy is now complete.
Will this war never end?
- The little king is dead. - The agreements are null.
I will spill every drop of my blood for the cause.
Blood, always blood.
Vendée alone cannot fight. You lead us to death.
Vendée is no longer alone.
The army of the émigrés has landed. The Count of Artois will arrive.
I do not trust the princes.
They are generous with their words, safely tucked away
in their exile, but they are sparing with their blood.
I don't want to delude myself like you with Louis XVII.
I need you.
My wife is dead.
And my daughters...
Look.
I don't want them to be orphans.
I know.
So, what?
Would you like your wife's death to be in vain?
For your daughters to grow up
under a regime that massacred our families?
Would you like us to have done all this for nothing?
- I want to live. - What for?
What's the point of living in dishonor?
I prefer to die with weapons in hand.
That's your destiny, but not mine.
The Republic has made concessions to La Jaunaye.
The Republic is too kind.
Concessions, my ass!
They've deceived us
- with promises. - Can't there be peace?
Republicans or royalists,
we have the same homeland.
Do you understand them now?
- Maybe I'm too old. - No.
It's their new world that is old.
We are the youth, my friend.
Yeah.
We are the youth of the world.
Come on.
March with me.
- For God. - AND FOR THE KING.
Harness the horses.
Grandiose music.
At the beginning of autumn, I concentrate my forces on the coast.
I rely on the arrival of the Count of Artois, the king's brother.
His coming is our last hope to reclaim the kingdom.
The prince would take a great risk by landing.
Is the risk any less for us?
A prince worthy of his title must set an example.
This is a gift from the prince.
A gift?
"I never yield."
Quite appropriate on the day he abandons me.
Tell your leaders
that you've just brought me my death warrant.
Today, I command 15,000 men.
15,000.
Because of them, tomorrow there will be 1,500 left.
You leave me no choice but to flee
or seek a glorious death.
Also, tell them that...
Charette will die with weapons in hand.
Why are you doing all this?
You no longer belong to yourself.
For glory?
No.
Battle cry.
This fight is bigger than you.
We will become History.
I had no choice.
You had the choice of forgiveness.
At Quiberon,
the Blues showed no mercy. They massacred the prisoners,
despite promises of clemency.
They massacred them.
They must know that I retaliate blow for blow.
This will be an eye for an eye,
a tooth for a tooth.
As a friend, I accept it,
but as a priest, I refuse.
We are not like them.
No.
We are not like them.
War teaches us
to become what we are not.
This peace offer has been approved and signed by us.
With your consent, it will be handed to General Hoche.
Is that all?
Continuing the war has become suicidal.
It is the only way to preserve our honor.
How dare you stand before me
with this rag
and talk to me about honor?
These people have no word, they will betray you.
They will deceive you as they deceived me.
To those who wish to return home,
I predict that instead of dying with weapons in hand,
they will be slaughtered in their beds.
Like cowards.
General, please.
The men are exhausted.
Why impose on them an unnecessary sacrifice?
I wonder
how fighters so brave and valiant
can choose the path of dishonor?
Dishonor?
Athanase,
- your words exceed your thoughts. - Let me tell you
what I truly think.
Melancholic music.
In a single day, you lose
all the glory earned during three years of war!
I will prove to you at the first opportunity that I haven't changed.
Have no fear, it won't be long.
Shouting.
Latin Mass.
It's me, you know.
I sent him to his death.
Friends,
I release you from the oath of Fonteclose.
Those who wish to cease the fight may do so without remorse.
You will keep your honor.
And my esteem.
As for me, I will go all the way.
I owe it to him.
My small army still resists.
An army of shadows haunting the forests and marshes.
They massacre us because they bog us down.
They bog us down.
We strike with the rage of desperation.
We are losing ground.
But my army dwindles day after day.
The wounded are numerous.
Bring us bandages.
Support is scarce.
Behind!
He's there!
We must survive like beasts.
Why do you persist in wearing that large white plume?
The enemy identifies you too easily.
Take it off.
That's out of the question.
A naval officer does not give up the honor of being a target.
And without the plume,
what do we have left?
I will not abandon any soldier.
They have abandoned you.
Those who remain only think of going home.
The kings of Europe accept the Republic.
They killed my son,
I don't forget, I don't forgive.
If you lay down your arms,
you'll have to walk over my heart.
I intend to negotiate my surrender with General Gratien.
I will do nothing to oppose your decision.
But I warn you, my friend.
The Blues won't treat you with any favors.
I'm tired of it too.
We found our good priests. We no longer have to fight.
Intriguing music.
Halt, citizen.
Ready, aim.
Anxious music.
- Don't cry, my friend. - Don't cry.
God will take care of our families.
Save the powder.
Wait.
Not like this.
The enemy is hiding in a nearby forest.
They disappear at the sight of any uniform on the horizon.
Charette, always Charette.
Always Charette.
A man cannot stand against the entire Republic.
I dealt him a heavy blow three days ago.
The bandits fled,
thinking victory was smiling at us.
They left behind about thirty dead.
Every day, his followers abandon him.
Most have laid down their arms.
As long as Charette does not surrender,
Vendée remains a threat.
Charette will never surrender.
Our offers of amnesty and exile have no effect.
Is this man invincible?
He must die.
His capture is only a matter of time.
That time will be short.
Charette can no longer escape us. He's a cornered beast.
Once located, we will launch a grand hunt.
How do you plan to locate him?
We will do as he does.
We will deceive.
That would be too simple.
Charette is a fox.
He distrusts everyone.
Your soldiers will end up stabbed...
We must try everything, harass him!
Don't let your prey breathe.
Exhaust your horses, but capture Charette.
Those are General Hoche's orders, and I intend to follow them.
The great manhunt has begun.
I can no longer leave the forests.
I am hunted day and night.
I am the most wanted man in France.
They are very close.
Soon we will all be surrounded.
I know.
Tomorrow, at dawn, they will attack.
So, is it over?
For us, yes.
But our fight is eternal.
Nothing can ever erase it.
Like this flame before me.
It seems to flicker, but in reality,
it will still illuminate men for centuries.
I will follow the light until death.
Gentle music.
It's an order.
The last one I give you.
- Athanase. - You must live.
Go.
Abbe.
You will bear witness to what we have been.
Farewell, my Amazon.
Farewell.
Gunshots.
Go!
Keep going!
Vendée liberté!
Threatening music.
Go! We'll get him.
Pfeiffer.
Pfeiffer!
On the left.
Growl.
Charette growls.
Gunshots.
Painful groans.
Anxious music.
Gunfire exchange.
You must live, General.
Touching music.
He's here!
Moaning.
Go, we want to get him.
HE IS THERE!
Melancholic music.
I want him alive.
ALIVE!
Come on, come.
That's enough!
Remain dignified, for God's sake!
General.
If I were to be captured,
I wanted it to be by a French officer.
I'm glad it's you.
So much heroism wasted.
Nothing is wasted.
Never.
Defeated, never!
If you flee, all is lost.
My heart still beats.
Tomorrow, I will be dead.
Athanase.
Marie-Anne.
I will get the best lawyer.
We will plead your case with God's help.
It's not necessary.
It's not necessary, you know it.
I have two last requests.
The first... Listen to me.
The first is to settle my debts.
I don't want to leave without settling my debts.
The second is to fulfill my debts towards God.
I want to receive absolution from one of our priests.
When they lead you to the square,
the procession will pass through Georges Street.
There is a balcony above the porch.
The abbot will be there.
You just have to bow your head to receive absolution.
I am proud to be your brother.
And I am proud to be your sister.
I will pray for you.
Soldier.
I have one last request.
I want to shave before the execution.
Impossible.
No prisoner can have a blade.
He could take his own life. Only the Republic...
Let the Republic be reassured, my religion forbids suicide.
I want to die with dignity, that's all.
No coquetry, citizen.
The mass grave is not a ball.
Melancholic music.
Cries and protests in the distance.
Tragic music.
Firing squad.
General.
I have one last favor to ask of you.
The right to command the fire myself.
It's not in the regulations.
It's been a long time since we disregarded regulations.
I ask you this favor.
From officer
to officer.
Granted.
I will bow my head.
Firing squad.
Poignant music.
Farewell,
General.
Aim for the heart.
That's where you strike a brave man.
At my command.
Today,
I die standing.
I want to face death.
I'm going to join you, those I have commanded.
Take aim.
Those I have loved.
Those who died by the roadside.
Without a name, without a grave.
What will remain of us?
Perhaps it is here
that our story begins.
Soft music.
Grandiose music.
Subtitling by TITRAFILM.
Nothing is lost.
Never.