Her wisdom was shown in her conduct on the occasion of a “Revolution” in which the girls indulged, with the object of getting a very unpopular mistress removed from the “White” Class. This mistress, Madame de Saint Jérôme, had been appointed by the Abbess, contrary to the advice of Madame de Rochechouart, who knew how unsuitable she was for her charge, and told the Abbess plainly that she could not be responsible for the consequences if Madame de Saint Jérôme were confirmed in it. In spite of these representations, Madame de Saint Jérôme was retained. Then the hotheads, de Choiseul, de Mortemart, de Chauvigny, and, of course, Hélène, formed a conspiracy to bring about Madame de Saint Jérôme’s removal. “The wearing of the green” (whether in the shape of leaf, or blade of grass, or ribbon) was to be the badge of the conspirators—and the pass-word and answer thereto was to be, “I take you without green,” and the showing of it. In fine, as Hélène would say herself, it was all very well arranged.
The occasion for the outbreak was furnished by Madame de Saint Jérôme. One recreation day two little girls began to squabble, and, I am sorry to say, in spite of their aristocratic names, they even came to blows. Madame de Saint Jérôme, without inquiring into the rights of the matter, put all the blame on one of them, Mlle de Lastic, and on her expostulating, got into a frightful temper, caught Mlle de Lastic by the back of the neck, and threw her down so violently that her nose began to bleed. Then there was a dreadful to-do among all the girls, and their attitude was so threatening that Madame de Saint Jérôme left the school in terror of her life. Then Mlle de Mortemart got up on a table and asked all those who had the green to show it, and there was a universal show of it. A council of war was then called, and it was decided to leave the schoolroom in a body, seize the kitchen and store-rooms,[15] and starve the nuns into submission.
They put this fine project into execution, after chasing the nuns they met in the kitchen and cellars. But they took the precaution to keep a lay-sister, and a young nun as hostages, the former with the view to having somebody to cook their supper for them.
After a little it was determined to send two of their number (Hélène and de Choiseul were subsequently chosen) with terms of peace to Madame de Rochechouart. These were drawn up in a very formal document, and embraced the following demands: (1), a general amnesty; (2), the withdrawal of Madame de Saint Jérôme; (3), eight days’ recreation.
Hélène and her fellow ambassador met a group of very anxious nuns on their way to Madame de Rochechouart. “They asked us: ‘Well, what are the rebels doing?’ We told them that we were carrying their proposals to Madame de Rochechouart.
“We went into her room, but she looked at us with so severe an air that I got pale, and Choiseul, bold as she is, trembled. However, she handed her the request. Madame de Rochechouart asked if the girls were in the schoolroom. We said ‘No.’ ‘Then,’ said she, ‘I can listen to nothing from them. You may go and bring your complaints to the Abbess, or anybody you like, for I won’t have anything to do with it. You have taken the best possible means of disgusting me for ever with such pupils, who are far more suited to enlist in some army or other, than to acquire the modesty and gentleness which are a woman’s greatest charm.’ We were in a dreadful state; Mademoiselle de Choiseul, who had more courage than I, threw herself at her feet and said that a word from Madame de Rochechouart would always have for her the force of a sovereign command, and that she had no doubt but that all the others felt the same in this matter; but that, in an affair of honour one would rather die than seem to betray or abandon one’s companions.’ ‘Well, then,’ said Madame de Rochechouart, ‘you may speak to whoever you like, for, for my part, I am no longer your mistress.’”
They went thereupon to the Abbess, but with not much better result. The Abbess, indeed, promised a general amnesty if the rebels should return, but insisted on the retention of Madame de Saint Jérôme, a condition which the “peace delegates” felt they could not accept.
They returned therefore to the rebels’ quarters with no very encouraging news. But, for the present, what these warriors were thinking of most was their supper. This, it seems, was a very gay affair, and was followed by games until what should have been bed-time—but wasn’t on this occasion for the good reason that there were no beds. It is true they gathered some straw from the poultry yard, and offered to make a bed from it for Madame Saint Sulplice, the young nun they held as a hostage, but she refused it, and said they should put the little ones in it, as being the more delicate. “We wrapped their heads round with napkins and clean dusters and dish-cloths,” says Hélène, “for fear they might catch cold.” The others spent the night as best they could, “partly in talking, and partly in sleeping.”
The next day ended it. The nuns, as the girls learned afterwards, were very much embarrassed, and to put an end to this intolerable state of things, some of them even advocated calling in the watch. But Madame de Rochechouart, with her usual good sense, pointed out that this would be the very means of creating a scandal—the thing which it was their best policy to avoid. She advocated sending for the mothers of the ringleaders, and accordingly the Duchesses de Chatellon and de Mortemart arrived on the scene, together with the Marquise du Châtelet and some other ladies. They carried off their own daughters and nieces from the rebels’ citadel, and the rest of the troop being thus left without leaders, soon capitulated on the terms of peace brought them presently by a lay sister. The message was: “The classes are open, it is ten o’clock, and those who shall be back in their places before twelve shall have a general amnesty for the past.”