Читать книгу: «Prison Journals During the French Revolution», страница 7

MADAME LATOUR'S MEMOIR

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 féodiste¹² 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: —

Madame de Mouchy added: —

'Having been united to my husband for fifty-two years I have entertained no opinions differing from his.'

[Then followed their signatures.]

We had great difficulty in persuading Monsieur de Mouchy to agree to answer the aforesaid questions; at first he positively refused, declaring that he would never do anything so revolting. I consulted different members of his family and some of his companions in misfortune, who said that it was impossible for him to escape answering the questions, and that the answers given, and which I have just written down, were quite sufficient. There were always, they said, some etceteras. Certain persons of whom I have spoken, who were always too sanguine, thought that the interrogatories would hasten the acts of liberation; but, on the contrary, we were not left long in peace, and the harsh treatment increased. Then the conspiracy entered into by Vincent Savart and Grandmont (which I believe was the only real one) broke out. We were then forbidden to walk in the courtyard or to receive newspapers; and we were extremely restricted in every respect. After a while we were again allowed to have the newspapers, but never again to walk except in the galleries, where it was impossible to take a step without running into one another. So many persons were brought in that every place was full, although many were sent off to the tribunal every day.

Danton, Lacroix, Camille Desmoulins, etc. arrived. There was a knocking at our door at six o'clock, and we were told to prepare to move our quarters. The turnkey said to me 'Hurry! some fine people are coming and we need this room as a place of close confinement.' I asked him where the room was which was to be given us; he did not know, but the jailer who followed conducted me to it. It was, Monsieur and Madame de Mouchy thought, sufficiently large to accommodate their daughter, if she could be brought to the Luxembourg. There was a fireplace in it which gave me infinite satisfaction whenever I saw Monsieur de Mouchy warming himself in front of it; for he had been freezing for five months, as we had only one little stove, which gave him the headache whenever the fire was lighted in it.

On the 5th of April, 1794, about a fortnight after we had been established in our new lodgings, a convoy arrived from Chantilly. Monsieur Randon de la Tour, who was of the party, came very early in the morning to tell our distinguished old couple that Madame de Duras was in Paris, and had positively received orders to come to the Luxembourg during the day. They were perfectly delighted. But the whole day passed and she did not come; and we learned that she was at the Plessis. We hoped that she was there only temporarily; as she still did not come we sent the most urgent petitions to the administrators for her transfer. Hopes were held out to us, but Providence had decreed otherwise; and if our prayers had been answered, she would not now be living. After a while however we began to hope again. One day a man named Vernet said to me in a mysterious tone, 'There is some one of your acquaintance below whom the citizen Mouchy, will be glad to see.' I said, 'Surely it must be the Citizeness Duras.' (He knew that her father had asked to have her sent here as he had himself carried two messages to the Committee of General Security.) Vernet replied, 'I cannot say; there are several persons.' I ran to repeat the conversation to Monsieur and Madame de Mouchy, who did not doubt it was their daughter with other ladies whose husbands were in the Luxembourg and who had petitioned to be allowed to join them. We arranged the room so as to be able to put a bed in for her; and to our astonishment, after waiting a whole hour, Madame la Maréchale de Noailles, Madame la Duchesse d'Ayen, and Madame la Vicomtesse de Noailles entered. Monsieur de Mouchy was entirely upset by this. He had a very bad cold, and his fever rose immediately. He greatly dreaded the imprudence of his sister-in-law, who was very light-headed. He said that nothing could be more disagreeable to him than to have her so near him. These ladies told how, after having been tossed about from prison to prison, they had with much difficulty obtained permission to be sent to the Luxembourg that they might be near him. They were lodged above us in an entresol. The apartment was soon prepared. The furniture was very scanty, and I undertook to arrange it; I never saw worse beds. These ladies, like most of those who were condemned in advance, entered the prison feeling quite sure of being soon restored to liberty. As usual, only fifty francs had been left to each of them by the turnkeys; they were advised to provide themselves with a little more cash. Madame la Maréchale had twelve hundred francs and the Vicomtesse, her granddaughter, had two hundred francs. They were told that this would be enough for their expenses for a month. This money did not last them very long as it was all taken a short time after in the well remembered general search. The following is a detailed account of the manner in which our search was conducted. In the morning, as I opened the shutters of my room, I saw an armed guard in the courtyard, – an unusual circumstance. I went out into the corridor to get some wood which was piled up there, and found four musketeers at our doorway with the jailer, who said, 'Go back into your room, Citizeness.' I said, 'I am not going out; I am going to get some wood.' 'Go back, I tell you.' I obeyed trembling and fearing that something was about to happen to Monsieur and Madame la Maréchale. I went up to Madame la Maréchale's bed and said to her as quietly as possible, 'I don't know what is going on, but there are guards in the court and in the corridor, and the jailer would not allow me to get any wood.' She answered, 'I thought I heard them. My God! what can it be?' I went back to the window and saw that there were musketeers also on the pavilion opposite, which somewhat reassured me. I concluded that it was a general arrangement for the whole house. Two sentinels had been posted at our door, and I tried to have some talk with them. One good-natured fellow to whom I furtively gave a glass of wine said to me in a low voice: 'We do not know why we are here. Orders were sent to the section of the Observatory for us to rise at three o'clock this morning; we were led here, and ordered not to speak to any one nor to allow any one at all to come out of the apartments.' We did not learn very much from that interview. I made ten attempts to go up to see Mesdames de Noailles, but was always prevented. Nothing was allowed to enter the house; dinner was not brought in till five o'clock in the evening. We questioned the turnkeys, but they said that they knew nothing. We were obliged to go to bed without finding out anything about what was going on. The sentinels remained at our doors all night, or rather for four days, as we were among the last who were searched; and we had no communication with our neighbours till the second day, when one of them knocked gently at an unused door which opened into our apartment and told us that a very strict search was going on, that money, scissors, knives, etc. were being taken. We made the disclosure to Monsieur and Madame de Boisgelin in the same way. A man who waited upon them had gone out the day before to get some water and had not returned.

At last I obtained permission to go to see Mesdames de Noailles; the distinguished Vicomtesse had made the beds, washed the dishes, and in spite of all was in fine spirits. She joked about her labours, which were quite extensive, and the more so since the deafness of the three ladies caused them frequently to misunderstand one another. At night she tied one end of a string to her arm and the other to her grandmother's bed so that the latter might waken her if she needed her during the night. She dressed her, attended to an abscess she had, and also to one of her mother's. She had scarcely time to breathe, and her zeal stood her instead of natural strength. I had, as I have said, obtained permission to go and wait upon her. I had plenty to do, for I rendered the same services to Monsieur and Madame de Boisgelin.

Our turn to be searched came at last on the fourth day, at eleven o'clock in the morning. The sentinels had been withdrawn the day before, at ten o'clock at night. Monsieur de Baquencourt, who lodged in our quarter, took advantage of the first opportunity to come and tell us that the search was terrible, that a prisoner had assured him that he had been entirely stripped, that he had at first concealed his assignats, but had afterward shown them as he preferred to give up everything rather than to get into trouble. The idea of being stripped and searched worried us very much; but there was no getting out of it.

All took place as he foretold; the municipal authorities and the guards made the search. When they came to the assignats I said, 'Citizens, are you not going to count them?' One of them answered scornfully, 'We need not count them in order to conquer the enemies of the Republic.' 'I am sure of that,' I replied; 'for they could not be conquered with paper.' Madame de Mouchy, made a sign to me to be silent. Eight or ten days after, the committee ordered the account of each prisoner to be made out over again. This was done in the keeper's apartment. Then we went back to the same old life. We tried to get accustomed to doing without scissors and knives, but it was very inconvenient; and what was still more disagreeable, the turnkeys, who formerly could receive money for small services rendered, were forbidden to do so any longer, and this made them very cross. The establishment of a public table was also spoken of, which greatly distressed Madame de Mouchy. Soon after this a commission was appointed to examine the prisoners; a good many of them were anxious for it. The day it was announced loud cries of 'Vive la Republique!' were heard in the galleries. It did not take place, however, till two months afterward. One day about that time I was sitting at work when some one called for me. I found at the door the jailer (no longer the good Benoît) with two turnkeys, who asked me: