“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 de Noailles 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 with supernatural 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 those around 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!’