Letter from Ferrières-Marsay to Mme. de Ferrières-Marsay
You can imagine, my dear friend, how essential your letters are to my peace of mind, but it takes eight days before I hear what is happening at home. So, from now on, write to me via Châtellerault, and send a courier there twice a week to deliver your letters; the post leaves on Wednesdays and Sundays. Take the utmost care not to speak to anyone about the specific matters I am instructing you on, neither to the abbé nor to Madame de Doussay 3%. Everything is connected and subject to interpretation. This could have the most unfortunate consequences.
We had a most memorable meeting on Tuesday 4 August. Rabreuil will inform you of the details and the purpose; I am instructing him to do so. If any benefits for the common good result from this, I shall easily console myself for what I lose as a gentleman and as a feudal lord. The hunting clause interests me little, but it will greatly annoy M. de la Haye.
Let us turn to business. As soon as you receive this letter, halt all repair work, whether on the moats or the castle. This is not the time to spend money repairing a house that may not even exist in a year’s time, or even in six months. Despite what you tell me about the friendship people have for me, I know the people too well not to realise that they can be led wherever one wishes, and that my castle, if secret enemies or ill-intentioned people so desire, will be burnt down, along with all the castles of many gentlemen in the Dauphiné, Franche-Comté, Burgundy, Limousin, Normandy, etc... Here is what you must do, but proceed with the necessary caution and discretion: 10 You are to take the money from the Treasury. Labbé may ask you for it; you are to tell him that it is to be sent to me. 2. You will find a deed of confession from Marsay dated 1723; a deed of confession from Mondon dated 1723; a deed of confession from La Tour de Ry dated 1723; or, failing that, deeds of confession from 1609; you will enclose my two ledgers of annuity receipts, one from the time of M. du Tillet, and leave the one I use to record them; you will take the box containing the Ferrières’ letters of nobility. I had put a large bundle of them in my study. You will also take a deed of conveyance for La Griffonnière and Puygirault, if you can find them. But neither Labbé nor anyone else must know of this. When everything is ready, you will say that you are going to Poitiers on business. You yourself will pack the ‘chest’ with your daughters; you will put the money, the titles, the confessions, the account books, and some of your silverware—such as ‘oïlle’ spoons, coffee pots and cutlery—into it; you will finish by filling it with your finest linen; and you will go and deposit it all in Poitiers, in the place you deem safest. You will say that you wish to furnish the Malvaux house for your daughter, and you will have the mattresses, quilts, blankets, and generally all the bedding for the flat and the alcove bedroom carted to Poitiers on the same day you go there.
You should include some sheets; that way, should anything happen, at least something will be saved. Above all, take great care to ensure that no one suspects anything about the money or the papers, and that no one can imagine there is the slightest hint of fear in what you are doing. These precautions will, I hope, prove quite unnecessary, but never mind; at the present time, we must anticipate everything. Sell your sheep for whatever price you can get, but take the money in cash. You will also arrange to sell a pair of oxen at Saint-Roch’s Day, and another pair at Saint Bartholomew’s Day. The remaining six pairs, together with the mules, will see us through, even if we have to buy more if matters settle down. Should trouble arise, you will be better off, and safer, in Poitiers than in Marsay. In a large town, the public interest protects private interests. You will stay in Poitiers for a day or two; you will assess the situation, and then return to Marsay. If the unrest were to increase in our Mirebalais, you would have a few more carts of furniture taken to Poitiers; if not, you would leave them in Marsay. It is up to your own prudence, and that of Séraphine, to guide you. At the slightest sign of unrest that might cause you concern, you must go to Poitiers.
Do not think, my dear friend, that I foresee any unfortunate events in our region, but you are too dear to me, and I must exercise the utmost caution. I even have reason to hope that everything will soon return to normal, at least for a while. The sacrifices made by the nobility during the session on the evening of 4 August are considerable. You realise that the success of what I am telling you depends on the strictest secrecy.
As for our harvest, you will sell the wheat as it is threshed, but without making a show of it, simply as if you were in need of money. Once you have a certain sum, you must lock it away in some safe place, one that is fireproof, but not in the Treasury; for if anyone were to come to Marsay, I do not believe it would be to burn the castle—as it is too beloved in the region—but to burn the rent deeds and tax records. You could therefore hide your money in the second vault, beneath the hall, inside the large cellar, in a place where there is no wine.
Let me know if you have received the ‘minutes’ of our Assembly; I have subscribed, and you must have had them circulated. I am writing to the seneschal regarding the abolition of seigneurial courts. The hope I am giving him of obtaining a royal seat at Mirebeau will bind the people of Mirebeau to me even more closely. It appears to be Dubois, of Châtellerault, who wrote that I was on the side of the Count of Artois and the Queen; this is a vile slander.
You know, from all my letters, that as soon as I realised what their schemes were and what their aim was, I withdrew from that society. I can say in my own defence that they all knew me well enough not to share any of their plans with me, or even to let me suspect them. From the moment of the meeting at the Tiers, I completely abandoned the Chamber of the Nobility and did not set foot there again, although several members continued to attend clandestine sessions; but I have always acted in good faith and for the common good. I found the conduct of this section of the Nobility irregular and dangerous. I spent the nights of 13 and 14 July in the Chamber of the Estates, although one of my friends had led me to believe that we would be attacked by the Royal-Allemand regiment, and that we were in great danger. Dubois knows this perfectly well, since we returned together at half past two in the morning. Besides, I may be mistaken; perhaps it was not he who sent that message. Be that as it may, there is no point in dwelling on this if anyone mentions it to you; without suggesting that I suspect Dubois, you could go into some detail to clear my name, but do so with caution, especially if you see Rabreuil. Send me news of my father; I’m worried about him, all alone at Le Tillou; people think he’s short of money; he’d be better off going to Poitiers.
I’m off to the Assembly; I’ll send you the latest news.
The new ministers, namely: Minister of Justice, the Archbishop of Bordeaux; Minister of War, de la Tour du Pin; Minister for Ecclesiastical Affairs, the Archbishop of Vienne; all three drawn from the National Assembly: M. Necker, M. de la Luzerne, Minister of the Navy; M. de Saint-Priest?, Minister for Paris; and M. de Montmorin, Minister for Foreign Affairs, arrived as a group at the National Assembly; and following a speech by the Archbishop of Bordeaux, Keeper of the Seals, in which he spoke of the ills afflicting the kingdom, M. Necker requested a loan of thirty million. The ministers left to the sound of cheers from the deputies who, seeing ministers of their calibre, were revelling in their triumph. The loan was referred to the Finance Committee for a report to be presented tomorrow. The loan will be approved. The need is urgent; Paris is in a state of great turmoil; the speculators and capitalists have done too much for the Assembly for the Assembly not to do something in their favour. Farewell.
Original Letter from Correspondance inédite (1789, 1790, 1791).