“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 a fermier-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 holy women 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 of Thermidor, 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 continued indefatigable 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.