Prison Journals During the French Revolution

by duchesse de Louise Henriette Charlotte Philippine de Durfort Duras

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:—

QUESTIONS.		ANSWERS.
Your name?		Noailles Mouchy.
Your age?		In my seventy-ninth year.
Where did you live before and after the Revolution began, and since then?		In Paris, on the Rue de l'Université and since the 9th of September at Mouchy with my wife and my daughter.
Are you a married man? If so, how long since you were married?		I have been married fifty-two years to Anne Claude Louise d'Arpajon.
The number of your children, their age, and their whereabouts?		Three children: one daughter forty-nine years old, married to the former Duc de Duras, and now a prisoner at Chantilly; Phillippe de Poix, forty years, who left France to save his life, as a price was set on his head; Louis Noailles, aged thirty-seven, left France with all the pass-ports required at the time, and is now in North America.
Your profession before and since the Revolution?		I have been a soldier from my youth; and I have risen to the rank of Marshal of France.
Value of your property before and since the Revolution?		My income before the Revolution was more than a hundred thousand livres; for two years one of my estates in Languedoc has been under sequestration under pretext that I had emigrated (though this was proved not to be so), by order of the Committee of General Security. The subsidies and the forced loan, under which I have just been obliged to relinquish a considerable sum, render it impossible for me to furnish any correct valuation.
With whom have you associated before and since the Revolution?		With my relatives both before and since.
Have you not signed resolutions derogatory to liberty?		I have never signed any resolutions.
What have you done for the Revolution?		All that was required of me.