As for Limoëlan himself, sentenced to death in absentia, he left Paris for his native Brittany. He spent a few months in the family château that bore his name and had become the home of his newly wedded sister Marie-Thérèse. She had at last married her suitor, who had come into a large estate in America.
Limoëlan was not as fortunate as his sister. He had hoped to wed his fiancée, Mademoiselle Julie d’Albert, but fate had decided otherwise. Julie, during a tearful last meeting, informed him that, at the time of his greatest danger, she had vowed to forsake him forever if by some miracle he escaped unharmed. Now that her prayers had been answered, she intended to keep her pledge and take the veil. She gently suggested that Limoëlan too open his heart to God.
Soon his sister Marie-Thérèse’s husband, Monsieur de Chapdelaine, had to travel to America with his bride to take possession of his fortune. He offered a passage on the same ship to Limoëlan, disguised as his valet.
Once in America, Limoëlan became a painter of miniature portraits under various names. He settled for a while in Savannah, then in Baltimore. Yet something was still missing from his life. At last, in 1812, like his former fiancée eleven years earlier, he received God’s call. “The angel who was the instrument of my conversion showed me the way,” he wrote.
He was ordained a priest in Charleston, South Carolina, under the name of Joseph-Pierre de Clorivière, adopted in honor of Father de Clorivière, his uncle. Perhaps the new cleric also felt that the name Limoëlan, even across an ocean and after the passage of twelve years, might still carry unfortunate associations with the Rue Nicaise atrocity. Whatever the reasons for the adoption of this name, Father de Clorivière, who became a curate in Charleston, was noted for his piety. He would fast on the holiday of Christmas, which he spent prostrated in prayers at the foot of the altar.
In 1814, he was overwhelmed with joy at the news of the fall of Bonaparte and the restoration of Louis XVIII. He forgot his usual reserve and was seen running through the streets of Charleston crying Long Live the King! He celebrated a Te Deum mass of thanksgiving in honor of the usurper’s fall, which angered some of his parishioners. He paid those no heed, for he was already planning his return home.
In France, his past efforts were acknowledged by the King, but some of his old friends, from whom he had expected an enthusiastic welcome, hinted that his ministry was more needed in America than in his native country.
He chose to return to his functions as a curate in Charleston. There he faced the resentment of those of his flock who did not share his political opinions. Furthermore, his life was marked by many disagreements with his superior, Father Gallagher. The enmity between the two clerics and their respective supporters escalated into a bitter pamphlet war.
Under these circumstances, Father de Clorivière accepted with relief and gratitude the function of spiritual director of the Convent of the Sisters of the Visitation of Mary in Georgetown. He devoted his life, and the 30,000 francs he had received from King Louis XVIII as damages for assets lost by his family during the Revolution, to this community.
He designed himself the Convent’s Chapel and oversaw its construction. It was dedicated it to the Sacred-Heart-of-Jesus, a symbol of the Visitation Order, and also the battle sign of the Catholic and Royal Army. The memory of all the Chouans who had died fighting with this emblem close to their own hearts never left him.
In 1826, Father de Clorivière tripped and fell after celebrating mass. He never recovered and passed away a few months later, at the age of fifty-six, attended to his last moment by the Sisters of the Visitation. He was laid to rest in his beloved Chapel, beneath the altar.
Acknowledgments
This novel was written thanks to my mother. For a year her spare bedroom became my office as I typed away on my laptop. She listened to my ideas, and offered support and advice.
Stephanie Cabot, of The Gernert Company, was everything an agent should be, and then some. It is truly a joy to work with her.
Erika Imranyi, my editor, took over the project midway, adopted it and brought it to fruition. My thanks go to her and the whole team at Dutton.
Last but not least, my son, William, offered to review the final drafts of my manuscript. He made insightful suggestions, which I followed. Congratulations on your very first editing job, William, and welcome to the literary world!
Catherine Delors Page 32