CAPG's Blog 

Mother Teresa, as the responsible leader of the group, answered, as far as she was allowed, the charges brought against her Community. Among the crowd of people, who invariably assisted at the trials during these last days of the reign of Terror, were some few unknown friends and well-wishers, who gave Sister Mary of the Incarnation a faithful account of the proceedings. With great calmness and dignity the Prioress disclaimed the charge of having meddled in politics and, on being accused of having concealed firearms in her monastery, "Here," she said, producing a crucifix, “is the only weapon we ever possessed." With no less courage she assumed the entire responsibility of whatever offences might be brought forward against her sisters, and she endeavored, failing all else, to screen the outside Sisters who, as "paid servants," were obliged to obey orders. "If," she added, "it is a crime to have corresponded with our chaplain on purely spiritual matters, I alone am guilty and should alone be condemned."

This brave protest availed nothing; the sixteen Carmelites were condemned to death as "fanatics," which meant, explained the president, "that they were devoted to silly practices of religion."—" My dear mother," exclaimed one of the nuns, Annette Pelras, "do you hear, we die for our holy faith! What happiness it is to die for God!"

The execution was to take place that same day, and the Carmelites had only a few hours left to prepare for the end. They were, said Pierre Blot, "radiantly" happy when they returned to the prison; but they had eaten nothing since the previous day, and, with motherly foresight, the Prioress sold a cloak to procure money enough to give each one a cup of chocolate. Then, kneeling down, they began to recite the Office for the Dead.

The executions since the previous month of June were appointed to take place at the "Place de la nation," which is situated at the extremity of the city, towards Vincennes. As the carts in which the Carmelites were seated, with their hands tightly bound, jolted over the rough pavement, a strange, sweet sound of singing echoed through the air. The "Te Deum," the "Salve Regina" floated above the feverish crowd that followed the procession, and, for once, no coarse jest or brutal insult was hurled at the prisoners. These calm, happy women, with their sweet voices and smiling eyes, exercised a unique power of fascination over the frenzied multitude. On arriving at the "Place," the Carmelites knelt down and quietly renewed their baptismal vows and their religious promises, while the executioner and the guards looked on in silence. Then the Prioress took up her station at the foot of the guillotine; the novice Sister Constance was the first to ascend its bloody stairs; her clear, young voice chanted the "Laudate," in which her Sisters joined; then, as one after another they followed on her footsteps, the singing grew fainter, till at last the Prioress was alone! Her task was fulfilled; her daughters were safe. With an eager step, Blessed Teresa of St. Augustin followed them, and, the last of the devoted band, laid her head beneath the knife.