during which she could see me but for a moment (notwithstanding any intercession she could make for that purpose), and only in the presence of a sergeant and four soldiers of the garrison, who attended her like her shadow. She had a number of particulars to relate to me respecting the journey she had just made in her country, but as it was impossible for her to impart them to me, I could draw nothing from her except sighs and tears, which she poured forth in abundance. Her escort dragged her away against her will, for the poor creature would have taken it as a great favour if they had detained her as a prisoner along with myself. This visit affected me much more deeply than any former one, so that I should have wished very much not to have seen her. Yet when the Intendant arrived, she besought him with so much determination, that he was compelled to yield to her importunity, so much so, that he permitted her not only to see me, but even to remain with me, and that, too, in a place a little less dreadful than that in which I had been, which they made me leave at once.
“This change so unexpected, and so agreeable to me that I regarded it as an interposition of Heaven, was (I believe) rather the effect of necessity than the result of any kind disposition they might have felt towards me. When I found myself in her society, and out of that detestable place, I seemed to have entered another world. All my unhappiness now was for my poor wife, who every moment expected her accouchement; she would willingly have been a captive for my sake, courageously despising all the inconveniences which she would meet with in a place where she would have nothing but solitude. This was one great cause of sorrow; although this was not the first time that by divine permission she was placed in a similar position, though more inconvenient. In fact you know that two years ago her accouchement took place in the prison of Sedan, she having been dragged from her bed (which from illness she had not left for six months) to be brought there. By the goodness of God she now, at the end of three weeks, notwithstanding all these miseries and calamities, brought into the world another fine boy, by whom the number of your brothers is again augmented.
“After I had been in prison seven months, they thought themselves obliged to bring my trial on, and for that purpose, on the last of January [1689] the police of Soissons brought me to the prison of Laon, to which place the Intendant arranged that the witnesses, along with the President, should go. With all these forms it was on the 27th of March that I was confronted with the witnesses, who had not much to say against me. I was kept before the bar for more than two hours to render an account of my faith and of what I was accused of, and particularly your flight, which they positively wished me to remedy by your return, although I had always borne witness that it was not in my power to do so. They exhibited an Order of Council which commanded the Intendant to treat me with all the rigour of the law. God gave me grace to reply to all their questions according to the promptings of my conscience, and boldly to confess the truth which we at one time so feebly defended. It now pleased Him to show His strength in my weakness, for in myself and in my flesh I recognize nothing but weakness. Sentence was pronounced that, as an expiation of my pretended crimes, I was still to remain in prison for six months — a sentence which was considered very favourable, and which I attribute to prayer to God on that and on ordinary occasions. I am much indebted to Mons. and Madlle. de Lussi who were most kind to me, and whom I shall remember with gratitude all my life. At present I have more license for writing than ever. May it please God to preserve us to the end of this persecution, to shield us from the storm and the tempest, and to conduct us by his goodness to the haven of salvation.”
The De Lussi family were cousins of the Lavals. Some of the ladies underwent what they call “a wretched imprisonment” in the convent of Soissons. Vicomte de Laval was an elder in Portarlington French Church; his signature, “Laval, ancien” may be seen in the Register. As a prominent member of the aristocratic colony, he lived in some grandeur. He was in the habit of wearing a cloak of scarlet cloth lined with ermine, a sword-buckle, knee-buckles, shoe-buckles, and a stock-buckle, all of silver, set with diamonds; and he always carried his hat under his arm.
The refugee Vicomte’s son, David, went back to France, where he retained the title of nobility, and resided in the chateau of his ancient family. By his wife, daughter of Colonel Paravicini, he had several sons and three daughters. In 1751, on the rising of fresh troubles in France, he brought his daughters over to Portarlington, and left them with an aunt. He was again in France in 1755, but returned to Ireland, and spent his last days in Portarlington. The last Vicomte, Robert, died unmarried. One of Vicomte David’s daughters was not married. Frances was married to a gentleman of good family, and had two daughters, one of whom was Mrs. Willis, wife of the Rev. Thomas Willis, D.D. The eldest daughter of David, Vicomte de Laval, was Mary Louisa Charlotte, wife of Gilbert Tarleton, Esq., of Portarlington. Her children were Harrietta, wife of Monsieur Castelfranc; Edward Tarleton, Esq. of Dublin (born 20th February 1764), and Captain Henry Tarleton, a military officer, killed in action. The heir of Edward Tarleton, Esq., is the Rev. John Rotheram Tarleton, rector of Tyholland, county of Monaghan, the representative of Vicomte de Laval. The chief relic, an heirloom, surviving from the refugee era,
