The French Revolution

We know of the French Revolution in general from history, but here Sister Martha tells her story and the story of other Sisters of St. Joseph who lived through that terrible time, sustained by the strength of Mother St. John Fontbonne and the Maxims given them by Father Médaille

My name is Sister Martha. I lived in Monistrol, a town in the Upper Loire region of the Diocese of Le Puy, where Sister St. John Fontbonne, pictured at left, became superior in 1785.

Sister St. John was a joyful, strong yet humble, common sense person with a tender heart filled with charity. Times were hard — bad weather had destroyed the crops for three years in a row, making food scarce and expensive. We were taking care of the sick poor in the hospital there under the leadership of Sister St. John.

On July 14th, 1789, a revolution broke out in Paris. A wild crowd stormed the Bastille and freed all the prisoners. Things went from bad to worse when our pastor, Father Ollier, took the constitutional oath and denied the authority of Rome. This meant, among other things, that bishops were appointed by the government rather than the Pope. For almost two years, encouraged by Sister St. John, we refused to attend Mass whenever Father Ollier was to say it.

Then the new Republic set out to empty the monasteries and persecute priests who remained loyal to Rome. More than a thousand priests and nuns were exiled to the island of Re. We heard that some of the Sisters of St. Joseph in other towns had fled to the woods or back to their own homes, although some were allowed to stay to care for the sick and wounded. In 1792, after more and more harassment from the revolutionaries, Sister St. John sent most of the sisters in Ministrol back to their families. She, Sister St. Teresa and I stayed to look after the hospital. But not for long!

One day Father Ollier sent the soldiers to force us to attend his Mass. Of course we refused to go, so they literally dragged us there. Shortly after that Sister St. John decided we should leave and the three of us made our way to the Fontbonne home in Bas-en-Basset.

As far as we could we continued to live our life as Sisters of St. Joseph in Bas. Priests who were being pursued by the revolutionaries often came to Monsieur Fontbonne’s house for shelter. That’s when we had the privilege of Mass and invited some of the neighbours to come. Someone always kept a lookout for soldiers. Sometimes the priest left a few consecrated hosts with us so we could take communion to the sick and dying.

At one point we had to hide in the woods, but eventually we went back to the Fontbonne home. In 1793 we were taken away to the prison of Montfranc that used to be an Augustinian monastery called Ste-Didier.

Later, some other Sisters of St. Joseph were brought to this prison. From every newcomer we heard about people who were guillotined. Sister St. John kept a little journal in prison. One of the pages was headed: Litany of the Martyrs of the Revolution.

Everyone marveled at her calmness and serenity in the midst of such dreadful conditions. She kept our spirits up, too, encouraging us to prepare for the great gift of martyrdom. She loved to quote the Maxim, especially the one that goes, “Let your first and dearest desire be to resemble your Saviour in everything. Let him abide in you and you abide in him.”(# 40)

Then, in June of 1794, we heard that three of our Sisters had been executed at Le Puy. On July 27th the jailer told Sister St. John that it would be her turn tomorrow.

We immediately made preparations. A visitor to the prison took our clothes and washed them. We spent the whole night in prayer and by morning our cell and our hearts were calm and peaceful as we awaited death. When the cell door opened, we heard to our utter amazement (and Sister St. John’s great disappointment) that we were free to leave the jail. The tyrant Robespierre had himself just been guillotined. The Revolution was over!

Sister St. John decided to return to her parents’ home where she took up again her service of the poor, the sick and the dying. To this she added the teaching of religion to the children of the town. I went back to the hospital in Ministrol. A few months later, in February of 1795, the French government, under Napoleon Bonaparte, began to allow religious to resume their works. Churches were restored bit by bit.

We heard that Sister St. Francis was gathering her community together in Ban-en-Basset. Sister St. John tried to reclaim our house in Ministrol but the new owner refused to give it back. She gave up hope of restoring the Congregation in Ministrol and decided that she and her sister would stay with their parents, who were getting older, and continue to serve God there.

And so almost fifteen years passed. Napoleon’s uncle, Monseigneur Fesch, was named Cardinal Archbishop of Lyons. Sister St. John was to receive a new call to restore the Congregation of St. Joseph in the Diocese of Lyons. But that is our next story!

Written by Grace Sauvé CSJ