CONTAINING AN ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE IN THE
PRISON OF THE LUXEMBOURG, WHERE SHE
WAS IMPRISONED DURING THE YEARS 1793
AND 1794, IN COMPANY WITH MADAME LA
MARÉCHALE DUCHESSE DE MOUCHY.
The last two years, during which I shared the misfortunes of Monsieur
and Madame de Mouchy, have abounded in such precious moments to me that
in order to preserve the remembrance of them (not for myself,--to me
they are ever present,--but for those near to me), I relate as an
eye-witness the sad circumstances under which they manifested the
nobility of their souls, and the beautiful spirit in which they endured
their captivity.
I trust I may be pardoned for speaking of myself frequently when I am
talking about them, and for saying 'we' when I ought to say Monsieur
and Madame la Maréchale; but I may say that their interests had become
mine, that my existence, on account of my attachment to them, depended
so much upon theirs, that everything I thought and felt was in common
with them. I was very careful in this matter; for they treated me with
such distinction that it often embarrassed me. They thought, these
honoured friends (may I be pardoned for expressing myself thus), that
they were under obligations to me; but they were mistaken. I was never
more proud of anything than of waiting upon them in prison. Let no one
praise me for it; I do not deserve praise.
Madame de Duras has given in her memoirs an account of the life her
honoured parents led at Mouchy. I cannot express the despair in which
they were left when she was taken away from them; they refused to take
any nourishment. I spent the whole night beside Madame de Mouchy, who
did nothing but weep and moan over the loss of her dear daughter, so
she always called her. Ten days after her departure a body of about
sixty armed men arrived, with some of the municipal authorities and the
Commissioners of the Committee of General Security, furnished with an
order to search everywhere for a quantity of arms which were said to be
concealed in the château, and to arrest any one who should be
suspected. They found only one pistol, but seized some title-deeds
which the _féodiste_[12] was arranging for the purpose of carrying them
to the prescribed place of deposit. The commissioners were in a rage,
and had him put in prison. They treated his wife, who was in a delicate
condition, in the most inhuman manner, and took away their badges from
the municipal officers, who they declared were in collusion with him.
They threatened the whole village, and said they were sorry they had
not brought a guillotine and cut off the head of every citizen. They
ransacked and almost pulled down some portions of the château. The
commissioners demanded to see some lead coffins which were supposed to
be in the vault of the chapel. After much searching they found three of
these. This capture did not satisfy them; they thought that money had
been concealed in the coffins, but they were mistaken in their
suspicion. They compelled the municipal authorities, though not in
accordance with their duties, to assist in the search. The latter were
almost frightened to death.
The consternation in the village was so great that no one dared move
out of one's house. The night was even more terrible. The peasants who
composed our guard became intoxicated with the wine they found in the
cellar, and fired their guns off under the windows of the houses; we
thought our last hour had come. At last, after three days of searching,
the chief commissioner affixed the seals, seized all the
silver,--alleging as a pretext for doing so the fact that some of the
dishes had on them armorial bearings,--drew up a _procès-verbal_, and
allowed us to pack up only in the presence of the jailers, so that they
might see what we carried away with us. They restored the badges to the
municipal officers, and concluded to carry the _féodiste_ away with
them. His wife was left on account of her condition. We were so
miserable during the whole of the three days we passed under the
conduct of this troop, that, incredible as it may seem, we were anxious
to reach the prison to which we were destined. Picture a courtyard
filled with the wagons in which we were to be taken away, two large
carts loaded with title-deeds, coffins, a clock, some old pictures,
trunks, and other things; the remains of the dead scattered about;
pieces of wood, loose papers, and other rubbish; the ragged country
guardsmen with frightened faces, and one can have some idea of the
condition of Mouchy, at the moment of our departure with the chief
commissioner, who made us halt at St. Brice long enough for him to make
inquiries about a few persons in the vicinity, after which he returned
to his carriage content with his discoveries. We talked a good deal as
we went along, and found out that they were going to take Monsieur and
Madame de Mouchy, to stay for the night at their own house, pretending
that it would be impossible to procure even absolute necessities for
them at La Force at so late an hour. We reached the Hôtel Mouchy, at
two o'clock in the morning.
The commissioner left them there two days, during which time
applications were made to the Committee of General Security, who
ordered a suspension of the affixing of seals in the house. Janon, the
commissioner of the section of Grenelle who was charged with this duty,
observed that it was not worth while doing it because there were no
proper signatures. He was requested to delay until the signatures could
be obtained. Unfortunately the members of the committee had gone to
dinner, and would not reassemble till the evening; then our
commissioner (a man named Braut) would listen to no further entreaties,
and declared that he had done wrong not to execute his orders sooner.
He affixed the seals, and we started off in a hack at ten o'clock at
night. The coachman lost his way, and took us to the Rue St. Victor,
where there was a house of detention. It was almost one o'clock when we
reached La Grande Force; the prison for men was separate from that for
women.
When it was proposed to leave Monsieur de Mouchy, at the former and
take us to La Petite Force, I thought Madame de Mouchy, would die on
the spot; and when it was necessary for her to separate from her
husband, it was only by force that she could be torn from him and led
away to a room where nineteen women were sleeping on hard beds of
sacking. When she was brought to the door, the turnkeys, cross at being
wakened from their sleep, hesitated about receiving her; but the clerk
ordered them to do so. She wept the whole night long. She took it into
her head that no arrangement had been made about my not being arrested,
and that consequently I could not be allowed to remain. I told her that
the commissioner had obtained an order from the Committee of General
Security on the subject. He brought it to me at once. I was delighted
at this piece of good fortune, which greatly comforted Madame de
Mouchy, who told me that it helped her to bear her misfortunes. Our
lodgings were changed, and we took possession of the new ones. We found
in them the widow of the mayor of Cassel, whose husband had been
guillotined eight days before. She was in despair. I saw her pass whole
nights on her knees upon her bed, weeping and praying alternately. The
apartment was at the top of the house in the quarter appropriated to
the women of the town, who kept up, though in prison, a frightful noise
from about five o'clock in the evening through the whole night. They
came to see Madame de Mouchy, to assure her of their innocence, and to
ask her to pay to them her garnish-money. In the morning she received a
message from Monsieur de Mouchy, who proposed to her to go with him to
the prison of the Luxembourg. She replied that 'since her separation
from him she had never ceased to declare that she would give everything
she had in the world to be able to be with him, even though she slept
on a bed of straw.'
Some objections were made to this arrangement, but they were overcome.
When I informed Madame la Maréchale that all was settled, she embraced
me, and said, 'You could tell me of nothing which could make me so
happy as this. Go at once and tell the ministering angel who enables me
to rejoin Monsieur de Mouchy, that I shall never forget the happiness
he has procured for me.'
Commissioner Braut, who had been very severe to us at Mouchy, had
become more lenient. It was he who had obtained our transfer to the
Luxembourg. We went to La Grande Force for Monsieur de Mouchy. Never
was there such an affecting reunion; even the turnkeys were touched by
the sight, and so was Commissioner Braut.
We went almost joyfully to the Luxembourg. (Great God, how little one
can tell what one may be glad to do.) Our conductor left us in the
keeper's room. We remained there from five o'clock till nine. A
terrible scene took place in that apartment; the famous Henriot,
general of the Parisian army, came with his flute to look for a patriot
who had been unjustly incarcerated at Caen, and afterward brought to
Paris. He had taken a great deal of wine at a great dinner, where the
guests made terrible jokes about the aristocrats, saying, with coarse
laughter, 'Yes, we must have twenty thousand of those creatures'
heads.' We had to wait until they were gone before we could know where
we were to be lodged. The room assigned us was one formerly occupied by
Brissot de Varville. The window was still walled up. Madame de
Mouchy's, bed was set directly over the place where formerly stood the
bed of her mother (Madame d'Arpajon had an apartment at the Luxembourg,
being maid-of-honour to the Queen of Spain, Madame d'Orleans), who was
lodging there at the time of Madame de Mouchy's birth. She frequently
told us of having been born in the Luxembourg, of having been married
there, and would add, 'and do you not think it strange that I should be
imprisoned here?'
Although I did not really believe in the fate which actually threatened
her, this speech made me shiver inwardly. The day after our arrival was
spent entirely in getting ourselves settled to the best advantage in
the small space allotted to us.
The day after, the commissioner Bétremieux came to take Monsieur and
Madame de Mouchy to their house, so as to break the seals in their
presence. They had the pleasure of meeting there Mesdames de Poix, and
de Noailles. All passed off very well; nothing of a suspicious
character was found. The _procès-verbal_ was properly made out, and we
had some hopes that they would be allowed to remain in their own house;
but we returned that evening to the Luxembourg.
There were fifty-three persons there who were well known to them, as
they came from the section about the fountain of Grenelle. An order was
sent to transfer the women to the Anglaises; those of them who were
married obtained permission to remain.
The keeper told me, as I had been told at La Petite Force, that he
could not allow me to remain in the house without the permission of the
committee. I told him that I had had that for La Force; he explained to
me, very truly, that this could not be used at the Luxembourg. He
advised me to send in a petition to be allowed to stay, and promised me
to say nothing if I received no answer. I sent the petition, received
no reply, and he said nothing about me. We had been ten days in that
room when the commissioner Marinot (quite a well-known man) entered
with one of his agents. I had just seen Monsieur Bétremieux, and had
made him promise faithfully to come to see Madame de Mouchy. We were
pressing around him to inquire of him whether there was any hope of
being liberated. Marinot said to him, angrily, 'What are you doing
here? You are up to some mischief! Get out!' I began to tremble with
fright, fearing lest I had compromised Monsieur Bétremieux. This
terrible man continued in the same tone: 'Why are there only three
persons in this room? Five must be put here;' and he made a figure five
with charcoal on the fireplace. Madame de Mouchy, said to him:
'Citizen, you do not think what you are saying; five persons cannot
stay here.' 'Ah! why not?' 'I do not wish any one here but my husband.'
'I will give you some old men.' 'I will not have it so; give me,
rather, another room.' 'I will see; there is another higher up.' He
came back in half an hour, and said as he opened the door, 'I have
found a very pretty room with a fine corridor, where you can take
exercise.' I went up to see it, and also the 'fine corridor,' which was
full of big rafters, against which one would strike one's head. This
room had been used as an office by Monsieur de la Marlière. The place
where the stove had been was newly plastered over, and the walls were
all blackened. One cannot imagine a dirtier place; it took me all day
and more to make it clean. A stove was put up in this room; but the
fire could not be lighted in it when the wind was from the south.
A description of this room and its furniture will not be out of place.
On one side of the doorway, to the right, was my bed of sacking, set
lengthwise; I got into it at the foot. Monsieur de Mouchy's bed was
next to mine, and Madame's was placed transversely. Under the roof was
a table and some of our dresses; on the other side of the grated window
we put the wood, two arm-chairs, two ordinary chairs, another little
table on which were other articles of wearing apparel. There were some
plank shelves to hold our dishes; and one corner in the corridor was
reserved, to be used as a wardrobe. My bed was a pantry during the day,
a seat in the evening; and Monsieur de Mouchy's bed was used in the
same manner. We spent five months in that terrible place, where the
most needy creature on the estates of Monsieur and Madame la Maréchale
would not have been willing to live. Their virtues sustained them in a
wonderful degree; they were an example and comfort to all who saw them.
Their sweetness and goodness were unfailing.
I have often seen persons come to the house in despair, and utterly
overwhelmed at finding themselves in such a place. Messieurs de Nicolaï
and de Laborde were so overcome that they could not speak. My venerable
friends comforted them, cheered them, and induced them to come to them
for encouragement and strength. When the administrators arrived, with
their caps pulled down over their eyes, to ask, 'Have you no petitions
to send in?' 'No, citizen; only if you could have my daughter, who is
at Chantilly, transferred to this place, I should be extremely glad.'
One of them said, 'Yes; that ought to be done on account of their age.'
However, no steps were taken in that direction till the arrival of
Danton, Lacroix, and others.
On the 4th of December, 1793, Commissioner Bétremieux came to take
Monsieur and Madame de Mouchy to Mouchy, to be present at the opening
of the seals; they remained there three days, and breathed a little
fresh air. During this time they tried, without success, to be allowed
to visit their house in the company of keepers; nor could they obtain
leave to see their daughter at Chantilly as they were on their way back
to Paris. The commissioner finally took them to their own house, where
they spent the day with their daughters-in-law. They were compelled to
return to the Luxembourg in the evening. This parting was even more
trying than the former ones; the few servants who had remained about
the house hid their faces and wept.
We returned to the same way of living. Our days were passed in the
following manner: Monsieur de Mouchy rose first, at an early hour,
lighted his candle, said his prayers, and took a little coffee; then
Madame de Mouchy rose and took her breakfast. As soon as she was
dressed I went to wait upon Madame d'Hautefort, with whom they used to
live; and then I returned and made my toilet. After this, they went out
of the room so as to give me time to put it in order. At this hour they
always went to see Madame la Duchesse d'Orleans, and they always came
away filled with admiration for her angelic conduct. They never
exhausted their praises of her,--an evidence of their own goodness.
They returned to their own apartment about half-past twelve o'clock; at
one, dinner was sent them from their own house. They never partook of
this meal without speaking of Madame de Duras, longing for her, and
grieving that they could not share it with her, knowing she had such
miserable fare. Then some visitors would come in; after that Monsieur
and Madame de Mouchy would go out to dine with a neighbour, and after
their return would play piquet together. Monsieur de Mouchy then walked
about the house. About five o'clock company assembled. The guests were
sometimes too numerous for the size of our apartment, and also for my
peace of mind, as I knew there were many spies about us. The person who
was my greatest source of anxiety was the Prince of Hesse, who lodged
near us, and invariably walked up and down continually in front of our
door whenever we had several of our friends together. He was even seen
with his ear against the door, trying to hear what we were saying. He
informed against one of the keepers, who proved the charge to be false,
and had him transferred to another prison, to my great delight. At
eight o'clock every one left, and we had supper. Whenever we received
any newspapers, they usually arrived at this hour. Toward the last I
tried to find out in advance whether the names of the victims contained
in them were of the persons whom Monsieur and Madame de Mouchy most
dreaded to see in the list of the condemned; if so, I suppressed them
until the next day. At ten o'clock we were all in bed.
A great change took place in Monsieur and Madame de Mouchy. He was
naturally extremely vivacious and she very quiet; now he became calm
and she exceedingly restless, especially so when on certain days she
did not receive the usual communications which her daughter took such
trouble to send, and when all sorts of unreliable news was brought by
persons entering the prison. The nobles, particularly, were always
sanguine. I have seen them make out plans of campaigns which would
bring Cobourg to Paris, and even to the very doors of their prison, to
conduct them in triumph to their own homes. These unfortunate persons
lulled themselves with the false hopes lying so far in the distance and
never perceived the precipices that were yawning beneath their feet.
During the period when we were allowed to go to the courtyard and speak
to our friends through a grated window, each one would return and say,
'I have seen my wife (or my daughter, or my servant), who could not
explain herself fully, but assured me by a pressure of the hand that
all was going well.' If a person of any distinction was seen in the
garden making the least possible signal of any kind it was sufficient
to arouse hope. I certainly did not share the hopefulness enjoyed by
most of the prisoners; indeed, it frightened me. I undertook at times
to convince them that they were too sanguine; but I afterward
reproached myself for taking the liberty to do so, for delusion was a
necessity to them. Some persons deluded themselves so completely that
they even found that there were some reasons why their friends and
acquaintances should be condemned, but were confident that they should
be exempt. Monsieur and Madame de Mouchy were not of this sort; on the
contrary, they considered their situation a very critical one. One
thing was done which alarmed us all; popular commissions were sent out
by the Committee of General Security, containing questions to be
answered by the prisoners. These questions were extremely captious. I
think I can remember them exactly, and also Monsieur de Mouchy's
answers.
_By Order of the Committee of General Security,
the Prisoners will answer truly and as briefly
as possible the following questions:--_