A Garden of Girls; Or, Famous Schoolgirls of Former DaysConcannon, Thomas, Mrs.
History
A Garden of Girls; Or, Famous Schoolgirls of Former Days
Concannon, Thomas, Mrs.
Catholic Church -- Education; Girls -- Biography; Women -- Education -- History
“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.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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