“The following day he played the flute, and we sang; then, as soon as one of us spoke, he asked her name. He was told it, and in three or four days he knew several by the sound of their voices, and called out: ‘Halloo! D’Aumont! Damas! Mortemart!’ He inquired if one was fair or dark; and then asked what we were doing in the garden. We told him it was our collation hour, and he replied that if it were not for an iron grating in the middle of the drain he would be able to give us some dainty morsels. So we said he must try and remove the grating, and he promised to do his best. We were so taken up by our conversation that Madame de Saint Pierre, one of the mistresses, was able to approach us without our noticing it. When we saw her so near, we all ran away, and Jacquot cried out: ‘Listen! Choiseul, Damas, the grating shall be taken away to-morrow.’
“Madame de Saint Pierre went directly to Madame de Rochechouart and told her what had happened. Madame de Rochechouart wrote at once to Monsieur de Beaumanoir, that the drain leading from his kitchen was going to be walled up, as his servants talked with the scholars. He immediately replied that he was extremely vexed at what had happened, and that he was going to dismiss all his kitchen servants. Madame de Rochechouart begged he would not do so; the masons were sent for, and the drain walled up that very day. Madame de Rochechouart did not consider it worth while to come down to the schoolroom about such an adventure. On the contrary, she thought it would be attaching too much importance to it; but in the evening, at the roll-call, she made some jests about the delightful conquest we had made, and added that we must have very refined tastes and noble feelings to have set such store by a scullion’s conversation; and, that as for those who had given him their names, she trusted he would at some future time take advantage of their former kindness, which would naturally be very pleasant for their families. In this way she humbled without scolding us.”
Madame de Rochechouart, a woman of sound judgment and noble mind, soon became very tenderly attached to the little Pole. The child, almost abandoned, so far from her own country, inspired her with real interest. Each day she had her brought to her cell, and without the child being aware of it, watched her carefully. Hélène, who was like a wild colt, felt a respect and at the same time a sort of fear mingled with the greatest admiration for the Grande Maîtresse Générale. She constantly mentions her in her Memoirs.
Madame de Rochechouart, sister of the late Duc de Mortemart, was twenty-seven years of age: “Tall, a handsome figure, a pretty foot, hands delicate and white, splendid teeth, large black eyes, a proud and grave look, and a betwitching smile.” Such is the portrait the little Princess has left us of her. She was undoubtedly, after the Lady Abbess, the most important person in the Abbey, and directed as she chose the studies and education of the pupils. It was thus that she filled up the often tedious hours of a life and calling she had not chosen. Madame de Rochechouart had two sisters who were beautiful and witty, like all the Mortemarts. All three went through their novitiate when hardly fifteen years old; for, according to the cruel custom of those times, their fortunes went entirely to the inheritor of the family name. They pronounced their vows three years after.
“I stood in great fear of Madame de Rochechouart in those days,” says Hélène. “When she came to the classroom in the morning and went the rounds, if by chance she spoke to me, I immediately became embarrassed and had trouble to collect myself sufficiently to reply. Indeed, it may be said that the whole class trembled before her, so that when she came in of a morning, and we were all returning in confusion from breakfast, she would clap her hands and every one would run to her stall, and one might have heard a fly. When we made our curtsey to her on entering the choir, I tried to read in her eyes, and if I thought her look severe I was in despair. I had got the habit of tearing at full speed through the house; but when I met Madame de Rochechouart, I stopped dead short. Then, when she looked at me, as her customary gaze is naturally severe, I fancied I had displeased her, and returned to the schoolroom quite disheartened, saying: ‘Ah! Madame de Rochechouart has made big eyes at me.’ The others replied: ‘How silly you are, do you expect her to make her eyes smaller when she meets you?’ This was told to Madame de Rochechouart. The next time she saw me she called me, and laughingly asked me if she was looking at me the way I liked, and if her eyes were still very alarming. I answered that I thought them so beautiful that they gave more pleasure than fear; and she kissed me. She commands the love and respect of all the pupils, and though a little severe, is very just. We are all devoted to her, and yet fear her. She is not demonstrative, but a word from her has a most wonderful effect. She is accused of being proud and satirical to equals; but she is gracious and kind to her inferiors; very well informed and highly gifted.”
FOOTNOTES:
[17] Hélène began her Memoirs in 1773; she was then ten years old.
[18] The private apartments of the Lady Abbess are so called.
[19] Small pin-cushions in the shape of bellows.
[20] A thick round box with pin-cushion top.