The deliverance from all my past ills was very pleasant to me, but a pall seemed over everything; I felt a distaste for everything, as one does for medicines. Accustomed as I had been to be surrounded by sympathizing love, the thought of my isolation overwhelmed me. It seemed that though the period of my misfortune was becoming more remote, liberty increased the intensity of my feelings; and my thoughts grew sadder every day. The thought of death necessarily most effectually blunts the edge of grief, since it brings us near to the moment when we find what we have lost, and we cease to regret. My mind returned to its former grief with renewed constancy, and I could no longer open my heart to my friends. I was not sure that my son was alive until I had been a long time out of prison. I had planned to retire to a village, with one servant, and there mourn for my loved ones. The consolation of rendering to the precious remains of my parents the duties observed in all ages, and by all religions, was refused me. Their ashes are mingled with those of criminals in the cemetery of Picpus, the ground of which has been bought by Madame la Princesse de Hohenzollern, sister of the Prince of Salm-Kirbourg. But at the last great day when all hearts shall be opened, God will know how to recognize his elect, and show them, resplendent in glory, to the assembled nations.
I was one of the first, after the re-establishment of the church, to have prayers said for my parents. A Mass was said for them at the Foreign Missions. We have need of their protection. I trust that their heavenly blessing may rest upon their children and grandchildren to the latest generation.
The forlorn situation of my mother-in-law, who, though she had not been in prison, had been under arrest in her own house with a dozen jailers, who never left her until their pay failed, determined me to devote myself to taking care of her; but I could not do this as the law exiling nobles was not abrogated. We were allowed only two décadis9 to make our preparations, and immediately after were to retire some leagues from Paris. It was necessary for me to seek some shelter; Madame de la Rochefoucauld-Doudeauville, a relative of mine, proposed to me to come to her house in the country, and assured me that I was welcome to anything she had. Her kind feeling for me caused her to offer what she really had not; for the little house which she occupied in the village of Wisson, near Longjumeau, was scarcely large enough for her own family. I went to see it, and concluded to rent some lodgings near her and Mesdames de la Suze and de la Roche-Aymon. I did not, however, have the opportunity to occupy them, as I obtained a prolongation of my sojourn in Paris, and during that time the law was repealed.
After remaining six months at the house of good Madame Drulh, I found a vacant room in the house where my mother-in-law was staying, which I took immediately. It was extremely cold, and the winters of 1794 and 1795 were very trying. I had no one to wait upon me. I would come in to go to bed, and find the fire had gone out, and this frequently after having walked a long distance. I missed much of the sunlight in the streets as I had to prepare both my breakfast and my supper. In order to attend Mass I had to go out before day and resort to the secret places of worship, where pious mechanics gladly received me. There was nothing more edifying during the whole Reign of Terror than the courage they showed in procuring for the faithful the opportunities of engaging in the exercise of their religion. I dressed myself as a servant, and consequently could not wear any of the warm crépes which luxury supplies for us; this masquerade was necessary in order not to make known the places where the holy mysteries were celebrated.
On Christmas day, 1794, when the Réaumur thermometer fell to eighteen degrees, I sat in the Rue Montorgueil, near Montmartre, through the whole of the office, the sermon, vespers, and the benediction. I found myself on the Pont Neuf at six o'clock in the evening, and the north wind cut my face like a knife. I had formed the habit, after leaving prison, of going out into the streets alone; I continued to do so, and found it very convenient. I never took cold once during that severe winter. I met my old acquaintances from time to time, and always felt deeply moved. We invariably talked about the treatment in the different prisons, and the sufferings we had endured. Almost all the prominent persons had been imprisoned, or at least under arrest in their own houses, which was substituted only as a great favour in the case of the infirm or aged. We found a certain variety in the horrors; but on comparison the Conciergerie and the Plessis proved to have been the most terrible of all the prisons, on account of the treatment and the great number of victims who were constantly taken from them to the scaffold.
Madame Doudeauville very kindly persuaded me to spend a few days with her at her country-house. Her loveliness, the attractions of her home, the sincere sorrow she had felt at the death of my parents, and her goodness to me, cheered me somewhat, though I was so overcome with grief. I had almost forgotten how to write an ordinary letter, and had long been entirely out of the habit of doing so. The carelessness of the style of this memoir and its dullness are proof of what I have stated.
At last I received news from my son, and this restored me to life.
The latter part of the winter was terribly hard, on account of both the scarcity of food and the cold. It was almost impossible to procure wood, candles, or bread. We sent thirty and forty leagues, for them. I carried something in my pocket when I went out to dine, even at the house of Madame la Duchesse d'Orleans, who lodged in the Rue de Charonne, near the barrier at the Faubourg St. Antoine. She boasted of having a farmer who sent her a loaf of bread weighing four pounds, every week. She had wretched fare; her dishes were what are commonly called culs-noirs. A dwarf served her as butler and valet. She endured her poverty nobly, and joked about it. I remember hearing a lady say to the queen, the wife of Louis XVI., while she was at the Tuileries, that she knew one woman more unfortunate than she, and that was the Duchess of Orleans. She had inherited a hundred and twenty millions from Monsieur le Duc de Penthièvre, of which the nation took possession, and did not even give her enough out of it to support life.
The Revolution has taught us how to understand poverty, by causing us to experience it ourselves. Two farmers on the estate of Mouchy, whose names I record with gratitude, – Duraincy and Isoré, – sent me some flour. I am sure a casket full of gold could never have given me so much pleasure. People conversed in the evening only of what they had eaten during the day. Servants stood in line from three o'clock in the morning trying to procure provisions. Women and young girls often waited twenty-four hours. Sometimes a whole day was spent in obtaining a loaf of bread or two ounces of something made of hempseed, green pears, and all sorts of horrid stuff. Whenever I had any of this unwholesome food I divided it with those about me. It was the maximum10 that reduced Paris to this state of distress.
Soon I found myself in a fresh dilemma, being sent away from my lodgings, which had been rented to some one else. Madame de Tourzel offered me a residence in the name of Madame de Charost, and I accepted it; it was very high up. I dined with my mother-in-law, and consequently, in the evening, was exceedingly weary from the number of steps I had climbed; for I was very much broken down from all I had endured. The charming society of that house amply repaid me for all the fatigue I suffered. My mother-in-law was obliged to leave the house where she was staying, and Madame de Beuvron lent her hers. We had very fine lodgings, but our food was miserable. My mother-in-law and I lived for three francs a day (in assignats) at an eating-house, – the uncertainty of the future compelling me to economize the small means still left me. Both the quantity and quality of the food was insufficient; nothing could be more disgusting than the meats which were served us. I had long been accustomed to such fare; but I grieved on my mother-in-law's account, though she never complained of it. She endured the horrors of her situation with admirable resignation and patience. Heaven doubtless sustained her to the end of her sad life. A most fortunate thing for me now happened: Madame de Beuvron went to occupy her own house, and several apartments became vacant in that of Madame de la Rochefoucauld; we took possession of them on the 1st of October, 1795. This arrangement was very much more agreeable for me; I have continued to live there ever since, and I desire nothing better. Being near my son and daughter-in-law adds another attraction to it; and as my life now passes in the most commonplace fashion I end this tiresome story, asking the reader to excuse its faults.
Paris, February 11, 1804.
(Signed)
Noailles de Durfort-Duras.
ADDENDA
On re-reading my memoirs I find a great many repetitions, particularly in the notes where I have several times referred to Madame Latour.
When my honoured father left the prison of the Luxembourg to be removed to the Conciergerie he said in a sorrowful voice to the prisoners who accompanied him to the doorway: 'At sixteen I went into the trenches to serve my king; at eighty I mount the scaffold in obedience to the will of God.'
The 'Messager du Soir,' though an organ of the Reign of Terror, inserted the following article in its columns on the 20th of May, 1795, year III. of the Republic: —
'When the venerable Maréchal de Noailles-Mouchy, who was all his life the father of the unfortunate, was led out with his good wife to be beheaded, a wretch cried aloud: "Now the 'sans-culottes,' will enjoy your bread and drink your wine." He answered with that serenity which a pure conscience bestows upon an honest man: "God grant that you may have bread for another year, and that you may not be compelled to devour one another."'
DIFFERENT NOTES AND MEMORANDA RELATING TO MONSIEUR AND MADAME DE MOUCHY, AND THEIR DAUGHTER-IN-LAW, LOUISE NOAILLES, WHO WAS CONDEMNED AND EXECUTED THE 4TH THERMIDOR, 22D OF JULY, 1794.
The following was brought to me from the office by Robert Lindet, when I went to the court sitting at the abbey of St. Germain to reclaim the last will and testament of my father and mother, which was then delivered up to me:
National Convention
Committee of General Security of the National Convention. Fifth day of the third decade of the first month of the French Republic, one and indivisible.
The Committee authorizes Citizen Braut to go to Mouchy, near Beauvais, for the purpose of arresting the citizen Noailles-Mouchy, (whose son, the former Prince de Poix, has emigrated), the wife of the said Mouchy, and all other persons who are suspected; he shall conduct them to the prison of La Grande Force, make all necessary search and requisitions for papers, set seals, and bring away everything that seems suspicious. After the seals have been affixed the citizen Braut, in the virtue of these presents, shall cause the citizen Mouchy, to be arrested wherever he shall be found, and also his wife and other suspected persons. He can moreover call for the assistance of the constitutional authorities and the armed force.
(Signed)
Vadier, Panis,
Lavicomterie, Jagot,David, and Dubarrat.11
Certified to be conformable to the warrant deposited in the clerk's office of the prison of La Force by me the undersigned.
Paris, 5 Prairial year II.
(Signed)
S. F. Richelot, clerk.
Extract from the Minutes of the Clerk's Office of the Revolutionary Tribunal, established at Paris, March 10, 1793.
By decision rendered the 9th Messidor, year II. of the French Republic, at a public session of the tribunal, composed of: Naulin, vice-president; Bravet, Legarnier, Launay, judges, who signed the minute, together with the clerk, upon the declaration of the jury, setting forth that Phillippe Noailles-Mouchy, and others before mentioned in the said minute are proven to have been the enemies of the people, by having been accomplices of the traitor Capet in the distribution of money employed by that tyrant to bribe refractory priests by whose aid the civil war was fomented; by seconding with all their abilities and means all the projects of the former court to overthrow liberty, crush the people, and re-establish despotism; by holding intercourse with the enemies of the Republic, for the purpose of obtaining men and money to assist in the invasion of French territory; by seeking to promote by speech and writing the degradation and dissolution of the national representation and the re-establishment of the monarchy; by assassinating patriots in the Champ de Mars, as well as by bringing about the civil war, and seeking to excite citizens against one another; and finally, by seeking by every possible means to annihilate public liberty.
It appears that the tribunal, having heard the examination by the public accuser, has, in accordance with the law, condemned to death Phillippe Noailles-Mouchy, aged seventy-nine years, born at Paris, ex-noble, ex-duke, and marshal of France, former governor of the palaces of Versailles, and Marly and of other places, living at Mouchy, in the Department of the Oise, and at Paris in the Rue de l'Université, and declared his property confiscated to the Republic.
From an indictment drawn up by Fouquier, the public accuser, on the 8th Messidor, year II., the following extract has been taken verbatim: —
Noailles-Mouchy, was the agent of Capet for the distribution of sums of money by means of which he bribed refractory priests, émigrés, and other accomplices of their infamous intrigues, and paid them to commit their crimes.
Extract conformable to the minute given gratis by me, the keeper of archives.
(Signed)
Perret.
Copy of the label put upon the inkstand of Monsieur le Maréchal de Mouchy, found among his effects at the Luxembourg, and which has been returned to his relatives: —
No. 20
Noailles, upon whom the sword of the law
has rendered justice
Different Letters and Notes from my
Sister-in-Law, written from the Prison
of the Luxembourg
To Monsieur Grelet, her children's tutor, who
was like a father to them:
I confide to the keeping of Monsieur Grelet my three children, – my two boys, and my girl. I declare that it is my most positive and express desire, in case I should come to want, that he should have charge of them. I give over to him all my rights and authority over them. I implore him to be a mother to them, and under no circumstances to allow any one to separate them from him. I authorize him to remove them from one place to another as may seem best to him, – in short, to treat my children as if they were his own. I am sure that all who care for me will most sacredly regard this my desire.
Written in the prison of the Luxembourg, this 24th Messidor, year II. of the French Republic, one and indivisible.
(Signed)
Louise Noailles, wife of Noailles.
Letter of the Same to the Same
I send you, my dear friend, a short will which I am told will be valid; I keep a copy of it in my pocket. Make the best use you can of it as well as that of my mother, communicating it to the proper persons when the time comes. God has sustained and will sustain me; I have the strongest faith in Him. Farewell, my dear friend; I shall feel grateful to you even in Heaven. Be sure of this. Farewell, Alexis, Alfred, Euphémie. Love God all your lives; cling to Him always. Pray for your father and live for his happiness. Remember your mother, and that her dearest wish for you was that you should be the children of God. I give you all my last blessing. I hope to find you again in the bosom of your Father. I shall not forget our friends, and I hope they will not forget me.
The note enclosed is for Louis. (So she called her husband.) Put it with the one you already have.
(Signed)
L. Noailles.
Louise Noailles to her Husband
You will find a letter from me, my husband, written at different times and very disconnectedly. I should have liked to rewrite it, and to add many things; but that is impossible now. I can therefore only renew the assurance of the love which you already know I bear to you, and which I shall bear with me to my grave. You know what terrible circumstances surround me, and you will be glad to learn that God has cared for me; that he has sustained my strength and my courage; that the hope of gaining, by the sacrifice of my life, the eternal welfare of you and my children will continue to encourage me through the moments most terrible to the flesh. May it please God that this thought may decide you to live for eternity, and to strive in unison with me. I confide to you my dear children, who have been the comfort of my life, and will be, I hope, the comfort of yours. I am sure you will seek to strengthen in them the principles I have inculcated; they are the only source of true happiness and the only means of obtaining it. I have now, my husband, one last request to make, – one which I am sure you will think superfluous when you know what it is. I implore you with my last breath never to separate my dear children from Monsieur Grelet, in whose charge I have left them. I charge my dear Alexis to tell you all we owe to him. There are no kind cares and attentions which he has not shown me, particularly since I have been in prison. He has been both father and mother to these poor children; he has sacrificed himself for them and for me under the most trying circumstances with a tenderness and courage for which we can never be sufficiently grateful. The only comfort I can have is to know that my children are in his charge. You will not disturb this arrangement, my husband; and I am sure you will have a sacred regard for this wish of mine. I do not know what will become of my poor Euphémie, but I declare to you that for a thousand reasons I desire that the Citizeness Thibaut should no longer have the care of her.
My husband, I bid you a last farewell. May we be once more reunited in Eternity.
From the Same to Alexis, her eldest Son,
the 27th Messidor
I charge you, my dear child, to give your father a detailed account of the obligations we are under to the citizen Grelet. I rely upon your heart to make him understand all he has been to you and to me. Do not forget to say that he wished to share his purse with us, and that we have lived entirely at his expense.
I send you, my dear children, my tenderest love and kisses…
The Same to Monsieur Grelet
It was not my fault, my dear child [thus she was accustomed to address Monsieur Grelet], that you waited yesterday so long and in vain; I am very sorry for it, and also for all the trouble that this mother and children cause you. Remember that you are the only and blessed comfort that I have in this world. I have not heard from you since the little message you sent as you were going out from breakfast at Citizeness Raymond's till yesterday at half past eleven. It was then too late for my answer to go out. I have told you the condition of my linen. I am in great need of some; get some for me from my confidential servant.
I highly approve of your lodgings; shall I tell my sister-in-law that I insist upon your remaining with your brothers? The letter which you have seems to me more persuasive than anything I could say.
Farewell, my dear children; I love you all four more tenderly than ever.
I am well as usual.
(Signed)
L. Noailles.
Last Letter from Madame de Noailles to
Monsieur Grelet
I have received, my dear child, all that you sent me; I thank you a thousand times, and shall never cease to repeat, as the poor do, 'God reward you.' This is and ever will be the cry of my heart, from above as well as from here below. I am ashamed of having said yesterday 'this' mother and children. The expression troubles me; I should have said as usual, and I do say now with all my heart, your mother and your brothers, whom you have specially under your care, because you are the eldest. But for you, my dear child, what would have become of them?
Farewell, dear, dear children; I send you my tenderest love and kisses.
(Signed)
Louise Noailles.
EXTRACT FROM THE LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT OF ANNE-JEANNE-CATHERINE-DOMINIQUE-ADRIENNE-LOUISE-PAULINE NOAILLES, WIFE OF THE FORMER VICOMTE DE NOAILLES.
In the name of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost:
I commend my soul to God; I die in the religion of the Roman Catholic Apostolic Church, in which by the mercy of God I was born, and have always lived. My love for this holy religion has grown with my growth; I trust that it will be my support when I come to die, as it has been my strength and comfort during every moment of my life. I believe firmly all that it has pleased God to reveal to us, and all that the Catholic, Apostolic, and Roman Church teaches.
I hope in its promises; I put my whole trust in the merits of Jesus.
I request Monsieur de Noailles, my husband, to undertake the execution of my will; I am glad to give him in this last act of my life a fresh proof of my confidence, and of a love which has made me so happy. I therefore place in his hands all the interests I have of every kind whatever.
I hope he will regard them as his own, and that when he is occupied with the details he will recall her who felt so truly happy in being united to him and all she suffered for her love. I beg him to accept the little bust of Adrien, and the two portraits of our children. I bless these dear children with my latest breath. I implore them for the sake of the love I bear them to draw near to God with all their hearts, to strive to obey His laws. I assure them, by my own experience, that only thus will they be able to taste pure and lasting happiness amid all the changes of this life. I beg them to remember that the desire for their real happiness has been the continual object of my thoughts and prayers, and that I shall never cease to implore God for it if he mercifully receives me. I leave them all the portraits of their father. I charge them to reverence and love him all the days of their lives, and to bring to his remembrance, by their great tenderness, her who gave them birth. I beg them to remember that it is to them I confide the care of his happiness; and I charge them to perform my duty toward him.
I commend myself to the prayers of my relatives and friends, and rely upon them to have prayers said to God for the repose of my soul.
I request the executor of my will (who shall be Monsieur de Grammont in default of my husband) to give to my mother and sisters whatever they may wish of the things which belonged to me.
I give my mother a renewed assurance of my most tender and filial affection. I owe her a great share of the happiness of my life, and especially shall I owe her my eternal happiness if God in his mercy receives me.
I request Madame de la Fayette, in the name of the affection we bear each other, not to give way to grief, but to bear up for the sake of her husband and children. Her real happiness, her interests, and the interests of all who are dear to her will always be mine; and I shall bear them with me forever. I implore her and also my two other sisters to remember that this union which has been the delight and comfort of our lives is not broken up, that we are parted only for a little while, and that we shall be reunited, I hope, for eternity. [Here follow bequests.] I assure my father once more of the true and tender love I have for him; I beg him to remember me, and to believe that as I prayed earnestly and unceasingly for his happiness in this world, so will it be one of my dearest duties to implore the Father for him in another.
Written at Paris, this 5th of April, 1794.
(Signed)
Louise Noailles.
Codicil of the 4th Vendémiaire, Year II
of the Republic
In the name of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost:
Receive, O Lord, the sacrifice of my life; I give my spirit into thy hands. Help me, O my God! Leave me not when my strength fails.
I have always lived, and hope by the grace of God to die, in the Roman Catholic Apostolic religion.
I forgive all my enemies (if I have any) from the bottom of my heart; I pray that God may grant them his fullest pardon.
I request that payment may be made, etc.
Written at Paris, and
(Signed)
Louise Noailles.
I learned on leaving the prison that there was a certain lady named Lavet who had been at the Conciergerie at the same time as Mesdames de Noailles and d'Ayen. I hastened to go to see her and ask for an account of their short and terrible residence in that prison, which she gave me as follows: —
Mesdames de Noailles and d'Ayen arrived at the Conciergerie on the 21st of July, 1793, excessively fatigued by their removal from the Luxembourg, which had been made in very rough wagons. They were suffering for want of food, which it was impossible to procure for them, as it was nine o'clock at night, and the rules of the prison did not permit anything to be brought in after nightfall. We could only give them some gooseberry water to quench their thirst. They were put into a dungeon where there were three other women, one of whom knew Madame de la Fayette by reputation. She took a kind interest in her neighbours, and undertook to help them to procure beds; but the turnkeys having discovered that they had not so much as forty-five francs, – which sum they exacted for furnishing them, – absolutely refused to supply them. They had been robbed of everything at the Luxembourg; the Vicomtesse de Noailles possessed only fifty sous. Madame Lavet, touched by the situation of this unfortunate family, gave her bed to Madame la Maréchale de Noailles, obtained one for Madame d'Ayen, and proposed to her daughter that she should lie down on a cot. She would not do so, however, saying that she had now too little time to live to make it worth while to take the trouble. Madame d'Ayen spent a greater part of the night trying to persuade her to do so, but could not succeed. The angelic woman borrowed a book of devotions and a light, by means of which she read and prayed to God constantly. She stopped only long enough to wait upon her grandmother, who slept at intervals for several hours. Every time she awakened the grandmother read over her indictment, saying to herself: 'No, it is not possible that I am to die on account of a conspiracy of which I know nothing; I will plead my cause before the judges so that they shall not be able to condemn me.' She thought of her dress, feared it was rumpled, arranged her bonnet, and would not believe it possible that the next day could be the last of her life. Madame d'Ayen had fears, but no conviction of the imminent danger which threatened her. She dozed for a while. She was greatly worried, wishing to send her watch – the only thing she had left – to her children. She urged her companions to take charge of it; but they did not dare to do so. The Vicomtesse de Noailles made the same request with regard to an empty portfolio, a portrait, and some hair; but she received the same reply, that such commissions would compromise them all. She made Madame Lavet promise to tell Monsieur Grelet that she should die in peace and perfect resignation, but that she longed from the bottom of her heart to see him and her children. Some one in that sorrowful room uttered the name of her dear sister, Madame de la Fayette; she forbade them to speak of her lest it should compromise her. Madame de Noailles, the younger, of whom I have just spoken, did not even think of sleeping; her eyes were wide open, contemplating that Heaven which she was so soon to enter. Her face showed the serenity of her soul. Thoughts of eternity sustained her courage. Such calmness was never seen in that terrible place. She forgot herself entirely in caring for her mother and grandmother.
At six o'clock in the morning, in order to distract their minds, we undertook to give them some breakfast. Mesdames de Boufflers brought them some chocolate. They remained with them a few moments and then bade them a final farewell.
Nine o'clock struck; the bailiffs came, and found their victims surrounded by the weeping friends who had known them only twelve hours. The mother made some arrangements in case they should be acquitted. The daughter, who never once doubted the fate which awaited her, thanked Madame Lavet in her sweet, gracious way, expressed her gratitude for all her kindness, and then said: 'I read good fortune in your face; you will not be beheaded.'
This is all that I have been able to learn from Madame Lavet in reference to that terrible scene.
(Signed)
Noailles,Duchesse de Duras.