CHAPTER VIII.

Dreadful Scenes of the French Revolution—M. Carrichon’s Account of the Last Days of the Maréchale de Noailles, the Duchesse d’Ayen, and the Vicomtesse de Noailles—They are sent to the Luxembourg—Are taken before the Revolutionary Tribunal—Their Condemnation—Heroism of the Young Vicomtesse de Noailles—The Insulting Mob—The Protecting Thunder Storm—Their Last Prayers—Arrival at the Scaffold—Their Impressive Appearance—Their Unflinching Courage—Their Heavenly Resignation—The Last Farewell—Execution of the aged Maréchale de Noailles—The Duchesse d’Ayen upon the Scaffold—Angelic Appearance of the Vicomtesse de Noailles—The Last End—Virginie La Fayette’s Narrative—Her Brother, George Washington La Fayette, sent to America—Letter from Madame La Fayette to Washington—Madame La Fayette and her Daughters obtain Permission to share the Captivity of the General—Their Arrival at Olmütz—The Pathetic Meeting—Letter from Madame La Fayette—Virginie describes their Prison Life—Letter from Madame La Fayette to the Emperor—Her Illness—Ignominious Offer of Liberty—La Fayette declines to accept the Shameful Conditions—General Bonaparte opens their Prison Doors—La Fayette’s Letter to Napoleon—Letter from Madame de Staël—Efforts in Behalf of La Fayette in England and America—La Fayette’s Letter to Joseph Masclet—Madame La Fayette’s Letter to Washington—Washington’s Letter to the Emperor of Germany in Behalf of the Marquis—General Latour-Maubourg describes Prison Life at Olmütz—La Fayette’s Unconquered Spirit—Washington’s Letter to him at the Time of his Release—La Fayette’s Letter to Masclet.

“O Liberty! Liberty! how many crimes are committed in thyname!”—Madame Roland.

“O Liberty! Liberty! how many crimes are committed in thy

name!”—Madame Roland.

THE dreadful scenes of the French Revolution send a chill of horror to our souls as we read of them, but we realize with more painful clearness the direful deedsof those bloody days when some eye-witness of those awful, heart-rending times pictures for us some individual doom and some particular scene. The following narrative of the death of Mesdames d’Ayen and de Noailles by M. Carrichon, priest of the congregation of the Oratory, will give a most vivid idea of the sufferings of these women, who, with Madame de La Fayette, must be classed amongst the most illustrious heroines of the French Revolution.

“The Maréchale de Noailles, the Duchesse d’Ayen, her daughter-in-law, and the Vicomtesse de Noailles, her granddaughter, were detained prisoners in their own house from November, 1793, till April, 1794. The first I only knew by sight, but was well acquainted with the two others, whom I generally visited once a week.

“Terror and crime were increasing together; victims were becoming more numerous. One day, as the ladies were exhorting each other to prepare for death, I said to them, as by foresight: ‘If you go to the scaffold, and if God gives me strength to do so, I shall accompany you.’

“They took me at my word, and eagerly exclaimed: ‘Will you promise to do so?’ For one moment I hesitated; ‘Yes,’ I replied, ‘and so that you may easily recognize me, I will wear a dark blue coat and a red waistcoat.’ After that they often reminded me of my promise.

“In the month of April, 1794, during Easter week, they were all three conveyed to the Luxembourg. I had frequent accounts of them through M. Grellet, whose delicate attentions and zealous services were of such service both to them and to their children. I was often reminded of my promise.

“On the 27th of June, on a Monday or a Friday, he came to beg of me to fulfil the engagement I had taken with the Maréchal de Mouchy and his wife.

“I went to the Palais de Justice, and succeeded in entering the court. I stood very near, with my eyes fixed upon them during a quarter of an hour. M. and Madame de Mouchy, whom I had only seen once at their own house, and whom I knew better than they knew me, could not distinguish me in the crowd. God inspired me, and with His help I did all I could for them. The Maréchal was singularly edifying, and prayed aloud with all his heart.

“The day before, on leaving the Luxembourg, he had said to those who had given him marks of sympathy: ‘At seventeen years of age I entered the breach for my king; at seventy-seven I mount the scaffold for my God; my friends, I am not to be pitied.’

“I avoid details which would become interminable. That day I thought it useless to go as far as the guillotine; besides, my courage failed me. This was ominous for the fulfilment of the promise I had made to their relations, who were thrown into the deepest affliction by this catastrophe. They had all been confined in the same prison, and had thus been of great comfort to each other.

“I could say much about the numerous and dismal processions which preceded or followed that of the 27th, and which were happy or miserable according to the state of mind of those who composed them; sad they always were, even when every exterior sign denoted resignation, and promised a Christian death; but truly heart-rending when the doomed victims had none of these feelings, and seemed about to pass from the sufferings of this world to those of the next.

“On the 22d of July, 1794, on a Tuesday, between eight and ten o’clock in the morning, I was just going out. I heard a knock. I opened the door and saw theNoailles children with their tutor, M. Grellet. The children were cheerful, as is usually the case at that age, but under their merriment was concealed a sadness of heart caused by their recent losses and by their fears for the future. The tutor looked sad, careworn, pale, and haggard. ‘Let us go to your study,’ he said, ‘and leave the children in this room.’ We did so. He threw himself on a chair. ‘All is over, my friend,’ he said; ‘the ladies are before the Revolutionary Tribunal. I summon you to keep your word. I shall take the boys to Vincennes to see little Euphémie [their sister]. While in the wood I shall prepare these unfortunate children for their terrible loss.’

“Although I had long been prepared for this news, I was greatly shocked. The frightful situation of the parents, of the children, of their worthy tutor, that youthful mirth so soon to be followed by such misery, poor little Euphémie, then only four years old,—all these thoughts rushed upon my mind. But I soon recovered myself, and after a few questions and answers full of mournful details, I said to M. Grellet, ‘You must go now, and I must change my dress. What a task I have before me! pray that God may give me strength to accomplish it.’

“We rose, and found the children innocently amusing themselves, looking gay and happy. The sight of them, the thought of their unconsciousness of what they were so soon to learn, and of the interview which would follow with their little sister, rendered the contrast more striking, and almost broke my heart.

“Left alone after their departure, I felt terrified and exhausted. ‘My God, have pity on them and on me!’ I exclaimed. I changed my clothes and went to two or three places. With a heavy load on my heart, I turnedmy steps towards the Palais de Justice, between one and two o’clock in the afternoon. I tried to get in, but found it impossible. I made inquiries of a person who had just left the tribunal. I still doubted the truth of the news which had been told me. But the answer destroyed all illusion and all hope; I could doubt no longer.

“Once more I went on my way and turned my steps towards the Faubourg Saint-Antoine. What thoughts, what agitation, what secret terrors distracted my poor brain! I opened my heart to a friend whom I could trust, and who, speaking to me in God’s name, strengthened my courage. At his house I took some coffee, which seemed to relieve my head.

“Thoughtful and irresolute, I slowly retraced my steps towards the Palais de Justice, dreading to get there, and hoping not to find those whom I was seeking. I arrived before five o’clock. There were no signs of departure. Sick at heart, I ascended the steps of the Sainte Chapelle; then I walked into thegrande salle, and wandered about. I sat down, I rose again, but spoke to no one. From time to time I cast a melancholy glance towards the courtyard, to see if there were any signs of departure.

“My constant thought was that in two hours, perhaps in one, they would be no more. I cannot say how overwhelmed I was by that idea, which has affected me through life on all such occasions, and they have only been too frequent. While a prey to these mournful feelings, never did an hour appear to me so long or so short as the one which elapsed between five and six o’clock on that day. Conflicting thoughts were incessantly crossing my mind, which made me suddenly pass from the illusions of vain hope to fears, alas! too well founded.

SENTENCED TO THE GUILLOTINE.

“At last I saw, by a movement in the crowd, that theprison door was on the point of being opened. I went down and placed myself near the outer gate, as for the previous fortnight it had become impossible to enter the prison yard. The first cart was filled with prisoners, and came towards me. It was occupied by eight ladies, whose demeanor was most admirable. Of these, seven were unknown to me. The last, who was very near me, was the Maréchale de Noailles. A transient ray of hope crossed my mind when I saw that her daughter-in-law and her granddaughter were not with her; but alas! they were in the second cart.

“Madame de Noailles was in white; she did not appear more than twenty-four years of age; Madame d’Ayen, who looked about forty, wore a dress striped blue and white. Six men got in after them. I was pleased to see the respectful distance at which the two first placed themselves so as to leave more liberty to the ladies. They were scarcely seated when the mother became the object of that tender solicitude for which her daughter was well known.

“I heard it said near me, ‘Look at that young one! how anxious she seems! See how she is speaking to the other one!’ For my part I felt as if I heard all they were saying: ‘Mamma, he is not there.’ ‘Look again.’ ‘Nothing escapes me; I assure you, mamma, he is not there.’

“They had evidently forgotten that I had sent them word that it would be impossible for me to gain admittance into the prison yard. The first cart stopped before me during at least a quarter of an hour. It moved on; the second followed. I approached the ladies; they did not see me. I went again into the Palais de Justice, and then a long way round, and stood at the entrance of the Pont-au-Change, in a prominent place. Madame deNoailles cast her eyes around her; she passed and did not see me. I followed the carts over the bridge, and thus kept near the ladies, though separated from them by the crowd. Madame de Noailles, still looking for me, did not perceive me. Madame d’Ayen’s anxiety became visible on her countenance. Her daughter watched the crowd with increasing attention, but in vain. I felt tempted to turn back. ‘Have I not done all that I could?’ I inwardly exclaimed. ‘Everywhere the crowd will be greater; it is useless to go any farther.’ I was on the point of giving up the attempt.

“Suddenly the sky became overclouded; thunder was heard in the distance; I made a fresh effort. A short cut brought me, before the arrival of the carts, to the Rue Saint-Antoine, nearly opposite the too famous Force. At that moment the storm broke forth. The wind blew violently; flashes of lightning and claps of thunder followed in rapid succession; the rain poured down in torrents. I took shelter at a shop door. The spot is always present to my memory, and I have never passed it by since without emotion. In one moment the street was cleared; the crowd had taken refuge in the shops and gateways. There was less order in the procession, both the escort and the carts having quickened their pace. They were close to the Petit Saint-Antoine, and I was still undecided. The first cart passed. By a precipitous and involuntary movement I quitted the shop door, rushed towards the second cart, and found myself close to the ladies. Madame de Noailles perceived me, and smiling, seemed to say, ‘There you are at last? How happy we are to see you! How we have looked for you! Mamma, there he is.’ Madame d’Ayen appeared to revive. As for myself, all irresolution vanished from my mind. By the grace of God I felt possessed of extraordinary courage.Soaked with rain and perspiration, I continued to walk by them. On the steps of the church of Saint-Louis I met a friend, who, filled with respect and attachment for the ladies, was endeavoring to give them the same assistance. His countenance, his attitude, showed what he felt. I placed my hand on his shoulder, and shuddering, said, ‘Good evening, my dear friend.’

“The storm was at its height. The wind blew tempestuously, and greatly annoyed the ladies in the first cart, more especially the Maréchale de Noailles. With her hands tied behind her, with no support for her back, she tottered on the wretched plank upon which she was placed. Her large cap fell back and exposed to view some gray hairs. Immediately a number of people who were gathered there notwithstanding the rain, having recognized her, she became the sole object of their attention. They added by their insults to the sufferings she was enduring so patiently. ‘There she is,’ they cried, ‘that Maréchale who used to go about with so many attendants, driving in such fine coaches; there she is in the cart just like the others.’ The shouts continued, the sky became darker, the rain fell heavier still. We were close to the cross-road preceding the Faubourg Saint-Antoine. I went forward, examined the spot, and said to myself, ‘This is the place for granting them what they so much long for.’

“The cart was going slower. I turned towards the ladies and made a sign which Madame de Noailles understood perfectly. ‘Mamma, M. Carrichon is going to give us absolution,’ she evidently whispered. They piously bowed their heads with a look of repentance, contrition, and hope. Then I lifted up my hand, and without uncovering my head, pronounced the form of absolution and the words which follow it very distinctly and withsupernatural attention. Never shall I forget the expression of their faces. From that moment the storm abated, the rain diminished, and seemed only to have fallen for the furtherance of our wishes. I offered up my thanks to God, and so did, I am sure, these pious women. Their exterior appearance spoke contentment, security, and joy.

“As we advanced through the ‘Faubourg,’ the rain having ceased, a curious multitude again lined the two sides of the street, insulting the ladies in the first cart, but above all the Maréchale. Nothing was said to the others. I sometimes walked by the side of the carts and sometimes preceded them.

“At last we reached the fatal spot. I cannot describe what I felt. What a moment! what a separation! what an affliction for the children, husbands, sisters, relations, and friends who are to survive those beloved ones in this valley of tears! There they are before me full of health, and in one moment I shall see them no more. What anguish! yet not without deep consolation at beholding them so resigned.

“We came in sight of the scaffold. The carts stopped, and were immediately surrounded by the soldiers. A ring of numerous spectators was soon formed, most of whom were laughing and amusing themselves at the horrible sight. It was dreadful to be amongst them!

“While the executioners and his two assistants were helping the prisoners out of the first cart, Madame de Noailles’ eyes sought for me in the crowd. She caught sight of me. What a wonderful expression there was in her face! Sometimes raised towards heaven, sometimes lowered towards earth, her eyes so animated, so gentle, so expressive, so heavenly, were often fixed on me in a manner which would have attracted notice if thosearound me had had time for observation. I pulled my hat over my eyes, without taking them off her. I felt as if I could hear her say: ‘Our sacrifice is accomplished! we have the firm and comforting hope that a merciful God is calling us to Him. How many dear to us we leave behind! but we shall forget no one. Farewell to them and thanks to you! Jesus Christ who died for us is our strength; may we die in Him! Farewell! May we all meet again in heaven!’

“It is impossible to give an idea of the animation and fervor of those signs, the eloquence of which was so touching that the bystanders exclaimed: ‘Oh, that young woman, how happy she seems! how she looks up to heaven! how she is praying! But what is the use of it all?’ And then, on second thoughts, ‘Oh, the rascals! the bigots!’

“The mother and daughter took a last farewell of each other and descended from the cart. As for me, the outer world disappeared for a moment. At once broken-hearted and comforted, I could only return thanks to God for not having waited for this moment to give them absolution, or, which would have been still worse, delayed it till they had ascended the scaffold. We could not have joined in prayer while I gave and they received this great blessing as we had been enabled to do in the most favorable circumstances possible at such a time. I left the spot where I was standing and went over to the other side while the victims were getting out. I found myself opposite the wooden steps which led to the scaffold. An old man, tall and straight, with white hair and a good-natured countenance, was leaning against it. I was told he was afermier-general. Near him stood a very edifying lady whom I did not know. Then came the Maréchale de Noailles exactly opposite me, dressed in black,for she was still in mourning for her husband. She was sitting on a block of wood or stone which happened to be there, her large eyes fixed with a vacant look. I had not omitted to do for her what I had done for so many, and in particular for the Maréchal and Maréchale de Mouchy. All the others were drawn up in two lines looking towards the Faubourg Saint-Antoine.

“From where I stood I could only perceive Madame d’Ayen, whose attitude and countenance expressed the most sublime, unaffected, and devout resignation. She seemed only occupied with the sacrifice she was about to make to God through the merits of the Saviour, his divine Son. She looked as she was wont to do when she had the happiness of approaching the altar for holy communion. I shall never forget the impression she made on me at that moment. It is often in my thoughts. God grant that I may profit by it!

The Maréchale de Noailles was the third person who ascended the scaffold. The upper part of her dress had to be cut away in order to uncover her throat. I was impatient to leave the place, but yet I wished to drink the cup of bitterness to the dregs and to keep my promise, as God was giving me strength to do so, even in the midst of my shuddering horror. Six ladies followed; Madame d’Ayen was the tenth. How happy she seemed to die before her daughter! The executioner tore off her cap. As it was fastened with a pin which he had forgotten to remove, he pulled her hair violently; and the pain he caused was visible on her countenance.

“The mother disappeared; the daughter took her place. What a sight to behold that young creature, all in white, looking still younger than she really was, like a gentle lamb going to the slaughter! I fancied I was witnessing the martyrdom of one of the young virgins or holywomen whom we read of in the history of the Church. What had happened to the mother also happened to her; the same pain in the removal of the cap; then the same composure and the same death. Oh, the abundant crimson stream that gushed from the head and neck! ‘How happy she is now!’ I thought, as the body was thrown into the frightful coffin.

“It would appear that Madame de Noailles, as well as her mother, had exhorted her fellow-victims, and amongst them a young man whom she heard blaspheming. As she was ascending the scaffold, she turned towards him and said, ‘En grâce, Monsieur, dites, “Pardon.”’

“May Almighty God in his mercy bestow on the members of that family all the blessings which I ask and entreat them to ask for mine! May we all be saved with those who have gone before us to that happy dwelling where revolutions are unknown; to that abode which, according to the words of Saint Augustine, has Truth for its king, Charity for its law, and will endure for Eternity.”

Once more we return to the account of Virginie La Fayette, Marquise de Lasteyrie:—

“For some time after the 10th ofThermidor, the prisoners still considered themselves as being between life and death. The massacres had ceased; but they might be renewed. My mother received frequent visits from M. Carrichon, the holy priest who had accompanied my grandmother and my aunt to the foot of the scaffold, who had given them absolution, and had witnessed their sacrifice. You can imagine all she felt on hearing the admirable details he gave her of the last moments of those angelic women.

“Meanwhile, the endeavors to obtain my mother’s release were incessant. The American minister continuedindefatigable in his exertions. At last the members of the Committee gave an order for her release.

“My mother’s first care was to go and thank M. Monroe for all he had done in her behalf.

“It was six days after she had left prison that George joined my mother, who had sent for him. My mother longed to see my sister and me, but she would not leave Paris before having obtained for my brother a passport for America. Knowing that my father’s wish would be to send him to the United States, she did not hesitate to make the sacrifice of separating herself from George. M. Frestel was to accompany him. My mother wrote the following letter to General Washington:—

“‘Sir: I send you my son. It is with the deepest and most sincere confidence that I put my dear child under the protection of the United States, which he has ever been accustomed to look upon as his second country, and which I myself have always considered as being our future home under the special protection of their President, with whose feelings towards his father I am well acquainted.“‘My wish is that my son should lead a very secluded life in America, that he should resume his studies, interrupted by three years of misfortunes, and that, far from the land where so many events are taking place which might either dishearten or revolt him, he may become fit to fulfil the duties of a citizen of the United States, whose feelings and whose principles will always agree with those of a French citizen.“‘I shall not say anything here of my own position, nor of the one which interests me still more than mine. I rely upon the bearer of this letter to interpret the feelings of my heart, too sorrowful to express any othersbut those of the gratitude I owe to MM. Monroe, Skypwith, and Mountflorence, for their kindness and their useful endeavors in my behalf.“‘I beg M. Washington will accept the assurance, etc.“‘Noailles La Fayette.’

“‘My wish is that my son should lead a very secluded life in America, that he should resume his studies, interrupted by three years of misfortunes, and that, far from the land where so many events are taking place which might either dishearten or revolt him, he may become fit to fulfil the duties of a citizen of the United States, whose feelings and whose principles will always agree with those of a French citizen.

“‘I shall not say anything here of my own position, nor of the one which interests me still more than mine. I rely upon the bearer of this letter to interpret the feelings of my heart, too sorrowful to express any othersbut those of the gratitude I owe to MM. Monroe, Skypwith, and Mountflorence, for their kindness and their useful endeavors in my behalf.

“‘I beg M. Washington will accept the assurance, etc.

“‘Noailles La Fayette.’

“It can easily be imagined how cruelly my mother suffered on separating herself from her son, and on sending him, at fourteen, alone, amongst strangers, two thousand leagues off. But such would have been my father’s wish, and she found strength in that thought.

“My mother, after bidding farewell to George, had nothing more to keep her in Paris. She started for Auvergne. We went to meet her. You may fancy the ecstasy of our joy on seeing her. At last my mother’s passport was granted. She had provided for everything. All her actions, all her thoughts since my father’s departure had tended to find the means of joining him. It was after many difficulties and anxieties that we arrived at Vienna. The old Prince de Rosemberg, grand chamberlain, was moved by her appeal, and obtained for her an audience of the emperor, unknown to his ministers. We accompanied her. She was received with politeness, and simply asked permission to share my father’s captivity. The emperor answered: ‘I grant it to you; as for his liberty, that would be impossible; my hands are tied.’ To the expression of her gratitude for the favor she had just obtained, my mother added that the wives of my father’s friends imprisoned with him at Olmütz would envy her happiness. He replied: ‘They have only to act like you. I shall do the same for them.’ My mother said that she had heard of several vexations in use in the Prussian prisons, and she begged the emperor to allow her to address herself directly to him for the requestsshe might have to make. He answered: ‘I consent. But you will find M. de La Layette well fed and well treated. I hope you will do me justice. Your presence will give him fresh satisfaction. Anyhow, you will be pleased with the commanding officer. In jail the prisoners are only distinguished by their numbers, but as for your husband, his name is well known.’

“My mother left the audience-chamber, in an ecstasy of joy. She was obliged to pass a week more in Vienna, to hasten the despatch of the order which was to give her admittance into the prison. At last, after many delays, the order for admitting my mother into the prison of Olmütz was delivered to her by Ferraris, minister of war. He told her at the same time that he thought it his duty to advise her to reflect on the course she was taking, to warn her that she would be most uncomfortable, and that the prison life she was going to lead might have serious consequences for her and for her daughters. My mother did not even listen to him, and we set off immediately.

“We arrived on the second day after our departure, at eleven o’clock in the morning. Never shall I forget the moment when the post-boy pointed out to us in the distance the steeples of Olmütz. My mother’s emotion is still present to my mind. She was for some time choked with tears, but, as soon as she recovered the power of speech, she blessed God by these words of Tobit’s prayer:—

“‘Blessed be God that liveth forever, and blessed be His kingdom, for He doth scourge and hath mercy; He leadeth down to hell, and bringeth up again; neither is there any that can avoid His hand. Confess Him before the Gentiles, ye children of Israel: for He hath scattered us among them. There declare his greatness, and extolHim before all the living; for He is our Lord, and He is the God our Father forever. And He will scourge us for our iniquities, and will have mercy again, and will gather us out of all nations, among whom He has scattered us. Therefore see what He will do with you, and confess Him with your whole mouth, and praise the Lord of might, and extol the everlasting King. Let my soul bless God the great King.’

“We drove to the house of the commander of the town. He sent the officer in charge of the prison to conduct us. After having been admitted through the first door, which was locked on the guard itself, we arrived, by passing through several long passages, to the two padlocked doors of my father’s room. My father had not been informed of our arrival. Three years of captivity, the last of which had been passed in complete solitude,—for, since the attempt at escape, he had not even seen his servant,—continual anxiety with respect to all the objects of his affection, sufferings of every kind, had deeply impaired his health; he was fearfully altered. My mother was struck with the change, but nothing could diminish the rapture of her joy, save the bitterness of her irreparable losses. My father, after the first moment of happiness caused by this unexpected meeting, dared not make any inquiries. He knew there had been a reign of terror in France, but he had not learned the names of the victims. The day passed without his venturing to ask any question; my mother had not courage enough to break the subject herself. It was only in the evening, after we had been locked in an adjoining but separate room, which had been assigned to my sister and myself, that she told my father that her grandmother, her mother, and her sister had perished on the scaffold.”

Madame La Fayette wrote thus to her aunt, when reunited to her husband:—

“Thanks to your good advice, dear aunt, I have attained my wishes. If I had been known, I could never have entered the Austrian dominions; and if I had not kept very quiet at Vienna until M. de Rosemberg had arranged my audience, I should never have succeeded. The emperor very politely granted us permission to be imprisoned with M. de La Fayette, and said at the same time that the affair was very complicated, and did not depend on him alone; but he assured us he should be well treated, and that our presenceserait un agrément de plus.... Fancy the feelings of M. de La Fayette, who for eighteen months had not been permitted to learn even if we existed, and who had seen no one but his jailers, when, without any preparation, we entered his room....

“Would you like to know the sort of life we lead here? At eight o’clock the jailers call us to breakfast, after which I am locked up with my little girls till midday. We all dine together, and the turnkey comes in twice, to take away the dishes, and to bring in supper. We are all together until eight o’clock, when they carry off my little girls to their cage. The keys of their room are always delivered to the commandant, and they are locked in with all sorts of absurd precautions. We three pay for our food out of my money. We have more than we can eat, but inexpressibly dirty.... It is a great blessing to us both that the children keep well in this unwholesome place. My own health is not very good ... but nothing to make me uneasy. Of course you feel that nothing could induce us to leave M. de La Fayette. His health is really improved since our arrival. His terrible emaciation and pallor are the same, though both hiskeepers and himself assure me that they are nothing like what they were a year ago. But no one can go through four years of such captivity with impunity. I have not been able to see his fellow-captives, Messieurs de Maubourg and de Pusy, nor even to hear their voices; from the age one of their late keepers supposed them to be they must have grown terribly older.”

“You know the details of our captivity at Olmütz,” writes Virginie; “my mother shared in all its hardships. We had not the slightest intercourse with the outside. The doors were only opened for the officer’s visit at meal time. We were refused a woman for household work. On entering the prison we were asked for our purses, and three silver forks found in our luggage were seized. The use of a knife and fork was refused us, and we were obliged, during the whole time, to eat with our fingers. My mother applied to the authorities on all these subjects, but all her requests were refused.

“My mother deeply felt the grief of being unable to alleviate the sufferings of her companions in captivity. But as for herself, no words could express her happiness. You can only imagine it by remembering what was the ruling passion of her life from the age of fourteen, and how much she had gone through from frequent separations and incessant labors which had so constantly called my father from his home, as from the great dangers to which he had been exposed. She had passed three horrible years almost without a hope of ever seeing him again. At last she possessed that happiness which, during all her life, she had been longing for; each day she beheld the influence of her presence on my father’s health, and the solace she afforded him; she was surprised at feeling so happy, and reproached herself for being satisfied with her situation while my father was still a prisoner.She was allowed now and then to write, under the eyes of the officer on duty, short unsealed letters to the banker, who remitted the money necessary for our food. Permission to write to her son was refused, in order that no intelligence from the prison of Olmütz should reach the United States. It was with a toothpick and a small piece of India ink that she wrote my grandmother’s life on the margins of the engravings of a volume of Buffon.

“As might have been expected, my mother’s health had suffered much. Never did she show more meritorious submission to my father’s wishes than when she determined to write to the emperor for permission to go and consult the doctors at Vienna. At the end of seven weeks the commander of Olmütz came to intimate a verbal refusal to leave the prison unless she gave up all hopes of returning. He asked at the same time for a written answer. It was as follows:—

“‘The commander of Olmütz having declared to me that, on my request to go for a week to Vienna in order to consult the doctors, his Imperial Majesty does not permit me under any pretence whatever to go to Vienna, and only allows me to leave this prison on condition never to enter it again, I have the honor here to renew my answer. It was my duty towards my family and friends to try and obtain the advice necessary for my health, but they well know that I cannot accept the conditions offered to me. I cannot forget that while we were both on the eve of perishing, I through the tyranny of Robespierre, M. de La Fayette through the physical and moral sufferings of his captivity, I was neither allowed to receive any accounts of him, nor to let him know that his children and I were still alive. I shall not expose myself to the horrors of another separation.

“‘Therefore, whatever may be the state of my health, or the hardships of this abode for my daughters, we shall all three take advantage of his Imperial Majesty’s goodness in allowing us to share this captivity in all its details.

Noailles La Fayette.’

“My mother’s illness made rapid progress. The doctor was only allowed to see her a moment during the officer’s visit. Being ignorant of the French language he could not understand her, but would express in Latin his fears to my father. This state lasted eleven months, during which no alleviation of the prison treatment was obtained. She had not even an armchair. Her sufferings did not in the least impair her spirits. Seeing her always serene, always enjoying my father’s company, and the consolations she had brought with her, we were all less anxious than we ought to have been.

“My sister supplied the place of outdoor workmen; she even made shoes for my father. But her principal occupation was to write under his dictation on the margins of a book. My mother attended to my education, and used to read with me; but the margins of a book, the toothpicks, and the bit of India ink were things too precious for my use. In the evening my father used to read aloud to us: I still remember the pleasure of those moments.

“In the interior of the prison we had established a correspondence with our companions in captivity, with the help of the soldiers, whom we bribed by the pleasure of a good meal. Of a night, through our double bars, we used to lower, at the end of a string, a parcel with part of our supper, to the sentry on duty under our windows, who would pass the packet in the same manner to MM. deMaubourg and de Pusy, who occupied separate parts of the prison.

“In the month of July, 1797, the Marquis de Chasteler, Austrian general, was sent by the emperor to Olmütz, in order to offer their liberty to the prisoners on condition that they would promise never again to appear in his dominions. The day they received this proposal they heard that the French government, who insisted on their deliverance, had declared at the same time that they could not return to France. Notwithstanding this proof of ill-will, the three friends, who had been allowed to meet a moment in order to consult together on their decision, refused to make any agreement which did not preserve entire the rights of their country on their persons; this restriction caused the prison doors to be closed on them again.”

The following was La Fayette’s declaration in answer to the offer of liberty upon conditions which he considered too ignoble to comply with:—

“Olmütz, July 25, 1797.“The commission with which the Marquis de Chasteler is entrusted appears to me to reduce itself to three points: First, His Imperial Majesty wishes to have a statement of our situation at Olmütz. I am disposed to present no complaint to him. Several details will be found in my wife’s letters transmitted or sent back by the Austrian government, and should his Imperial Majesty not consider it sufficient to re-peruse the instructions sent from Vienna in his name, I will willingly furnish the Marquis de Chasteler with all the information he may desire.“Secondly, His Majesty the emperor wishes to be assured that immediately after my liberation I shall setout for America. That intention I have often expressed, but as an answer would, under present circumstances, appear like an acknowledgment of the right to impose on me such a condition, I think it inexpedient to comply with the demand.“Thirdly, His Majesty the emperor and king has done me the honor to announce to me that, as the principles which I profess are incompatible with the safety to the Austrian government, he cannot consent to my return to his states without his special permission. There are certain duties, the fulfilment of which I cannot decline; I have some towards the United States; I have others towards France,—I cannot under any circumstances shrink from the performance of those which I owe to my country. With this reservation I can assure General the Marquis de Chasteler of my fixed determination never to set foot in any state subject to his Imperial Majesty the King of Bohemia and Hungary.“La Fayette.”

“Olmütz, July 25, 1797.

“The commission with which the Marquis de Chasteler is entrusted appears to me to reduce itself to three points: First, His Imperial Majesty wishes to have a statement of our situation at Olmütz. I am disposed to present no complaint to him. Several details will be found in my wife’s letters transmitted or sent back by the Austrian government, and should his Imperial Majesty not consider it sufficient to re-peruse the instructions sent from Vienna in his name, I will willingly furnish the Marquis de Chasteler with all the information he may desire.

“Secondly, His Majesty the emperor wishes to be assured that immediately after my liberation I shall setout for America. That intention I have often expressed, but as an answer would, under present circumstances, appear like an acknowledgment of the right to impose on me such a condition, I think it inexpedient to comply with the demand.

“Thirdly, His Majesty the emperor and king has done me the honor to announce to me that, as the principles which I profess are incompatible with the safety to the Austrian government, he cannot consent to my return to his states without his special permission. There are certain duties, the fulfilment of which I cannot decline; I have some towards the United States; I have others towards France,—I cannot under any circumstances shrink from the performance of those which I owe to my country. With this reservation I can assure General the Marquis de Chasteler of my fixed determination never to set foot in any state subject to his Imperial Majesty the King of Bohemia and Hungary.

“La Fayette.”

Regarding this brave action of the Marquis de La Fayette, who had been languishing for five years in his loathsome prison, but who would not purchase liberty at the sacrifice of one iota of his avowed rights and principles, his daughter Virginie says:—

“My mother fully appreciated this noble conduct. In the midst of her sufferings she would willingly have paid with many months of captivity the pleasure caused her by my father’s declaration in answer to the proposals made by the Austrian government. Two months elapsed before we received any new communication. At last General Bonaparte and General Clarke, the French plenipotentiaries, required that the prisoners of Olmütz should be delivered without further delay.

“After many difficulties, the order was forwarded to open the gates of the citadel to the prisoners of Olmütz. We set off for Hamburg on the 19th of September, 1797. Five years and one month had elapsed since my father’s arrest, and twenty-three months since we had joined him. At Dresden, Leipsic, Halle, and Hamburg our journey was a prolonged triumph. Crowds thronged to see my father and his companions.”

Immediately upon his release from prison La Fayette’s first care was to thank M. de Talleyrand, and to write the following letter to General Bonaparte:—

“Hamburg, Oct. 6, 1797.“Citoyen Général: The prisoners of Olmütz, happy to owe their deliverance to your irresistible arms, had, during their captivity, rejoiced at the thought that their liberty and their life were attached to the victories of the republic and to your personal glory. It is with the utmost satisfaction that they now do homage to their liberator. We should have liked,Citoyen Général, to have offered to you in person the expression of these feelings, to have witnessed with our own eyes the scenes of so many victories, the army which has won them, and the general who has placed our resurrection amongst the miracles he has accomplished. But you know that the journey to Hamburg has not been left to our choice. From the place where we took leave of our jailers we address our thanks to their victor.“In the solitary retreat on the Danish territory of Holstein, where we shall try to recover our health, we shall unite our patriotic wishes for the republic with the most lively interest in the illustrious general to whom we are still more attached on account of the services he has rendered to the cause of liberty and to our countrythan for the special obligation we rejoice in owing to him, and which the deepest gratitude has forever engraved in our hearts.“Salut et respect,“La Fayette,“La Tour-Maubourg,“Bureaux de Pusy.”

“Hamburg, Oct. 6, 1797.

“Citoyen Général: The prisoners of Olmütz, happy to owe their deliverance to your irresistible arms, had, during their captivity, rejoiced at the thought that their liberty and their life were attached to the victories of the republic and to your personal glory. It is with the utmost satisfaction that they now do homage to their liberator. We should have liked,Citoyen Général, to have offered to you in person the expression of these feelings, to have witnessed with our own eyes the scenes of so many victories, the army which has won them, and the general who has placed our resurrection amongst the miracles he has accomplished. But you know that the journey to Hamburg has not been left to our choice. From the place where we took leave of our jailers we address our thanks to their victor.

“In the solitary retreat on the Danish territory of Holstein, where we shall try to recover our health, we shall unite our patriotic wishes for the republic with the most lively interest in the illustrious general to whom we are still more attached on account of the services he has rendered to the cause of liberty and to our countrythan for the special obligation we rejoice in owing to him, and which the deepest gratitude has forever engraved in our hearts.

“Salut et respect,“La Fayette,“La Tour-Maubourg,“Bureaux de Pusy.”

“Salut et respect,

“La Fayette,

“La Tour-Maubourg,

“Bureaux de Pusy.”

Among the letters which greatly gratified La Fayette upon his liberation was the following from Madame de Staël, addressed to him when it was announced that he was to be delivered.

“June 20, 1797.“I hope this letter will reach you. I should like to be one of the first to tell you of the feelings of indignation, grief, hope, fear, anxiety, discouragement, with which your fate has filled, during these last five years, the hearts of all those who love you. I do not know whether it is possible to make these cruel recollections bearable to you; nevertheless, I may say, that, while calumny was destroying every reputation, while faction, unable to triumph over the cause, was attacking every individual, your misfortunes have preserved your glory; and if your health can be restored to you, you come out whole from a tomb where your name has acquired fresh lustre.“Come directly to France; there is no other country for you. You will find that republic which your opinions led you to wish for when your conscience bound you to royalty. You will find it illustrated by victory and free from the crimes which stained its origin. You will uphold that republic, because without it no liberty can exist in France, and because, as a hero and as a martyr, you are so united with freedom that I pronounce yourname and the name of liberty at the same moment to express what I wish for the honor and welfare of France.“Come to France; there you will find devoted friends; and let me hope that my constant care for your welfare and my useless efforts to serve you may entitle me to a small place in your thoughts.”

“June 20, 1797.

“I hope this letter will reach you. I should like to be one of the first to tell you of the feelings of indignation, grief, hope, fear, anxiety, discouragement, with which your fate has filled, during these last five years, the hearts of all those who love you. I do not know whether it is possible to make these cruel recollections bearable to you; nevertheless, I may say, that, while calumny was destroying every reputation, while faction, unable to triumph over the cause, was attacking every individual, your misfortunes have preserved your glory; and if your health can be restored to you, you come out whole from a tomb where your name has acquired fresh lustre.

“Come directly to France; there is no other country for you. You will find that republic which your opinions led you to wish for when your conscience bound you to royalty. You will find it illustrated by victory and free from the crimes which stained its origin. You will uphold that republic, because without it no liberty can exist in France, and because, as a hero and as a martyr, you are so united with freedom that I pronounce yourname and the name of liberty at the same moment to express what I wish for the honor and welfare of France.

“Come to France; there you will find devoted friends; and let me hope that my constant care for your welfare and my useless efforts to serve you may entitle me to a small place in your thoughts.”

MADAME DE STAËL.[FROM THE PORTRAIT GALLERY OF EMINENT MEN AND WOMEN.]

During La Fayette’s long imprisonment many persons in England, France, and America interested themselves in efforts in his behalf. Of these one of the most indefatigable was Joseph Masclet, a man of rare merits. During the Reign of Terror he went to England to save his life. He was not personally acquainted with La Fayette, having never even seen him at that time, but he warmly sympathized with his principles and admired his sterling virtues. He constantly wrote against the detention of La Fayette, and published numerous articles in the Hamburg journals upon the subject, using thenom-de-plumeof “Eleutheros,” the Greek for freeman. It was in vain that the Austrian cabinet took every measure to discover “Eleutheros,” though several emissaries were sent to London to find the unknown person who thus dared to brave the anger of the Austrian government. Masclet was supported in England in these philanthropic efforts in behalf of La Fayette and his companions in misfortune, Generals Latour-Maubourg and Bureaux de Pusy, who were imprisoned with him in Olmütz, by Fox, Wilberforce, Sheridan, and at their head General Fitzpatrick and General Tarleton, who had fought against La Fayette in Virginia; but these now all united to plead with the Pitt ministry and the calumniators of La Fayette. In December, 1796, General Fitzpatrick made that eloquent speech in the English House of Commons, in behalf of the prisoners at Olmütz, whichproduced great sensation in Europe, which ended as follows:—

“That an humble address be presented to his Majesty, that it appears to this House that the detention of Generals La Fayette, Bureaux de Pusy, and Latour-Maubourg, in the prison of his Majesty’s ally, the emperor of Germany, is highly injurious to his Imperial Majesty and to the common cause of all the allies; and humbly implore his Majesty to intercede in such manner as to his wisdom shall seem proper for the deliverance of these unfortunate persons.”

The friendship between La Fayette and Masclet continued strong until the death of the latter. Immediately upon La Fayette’s release from Olmütz, he addressed the following letter to the faithful “Eleutheros,” who had been untiring in his efforts in his behalf.

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