CHAPTER X

The King of Navarre appoints a special commission for the trial

of Brilland--Brilland is put to the question--His confessions

under torture implicate the Princesse de Condé, but on the

following day he disavows them--He is found guilty and condemned

to be dismembered by horses--The princess denies the competency

of the court and appeals to the Parlement of Paris--But the King

of Navarre and the commissioners ignore the decrees of that

body--The commission directs that the princess shall be brought

to trial--She gives birth to a son--The prosecution is dropped,

but the princess remains in captivity--The Président de Thou

interests himself in her case--Means by which he obtains from

Henri IV. the recognition of her son’s rights, and, with them,

the acknowledgment of the princess’s innocence.

After ordering the arrest of the Princesse de Condé, the King of

Navarre appointed a special commission, composed of twelve judges, for

the trial of Brilland; while, as the accused had protested against

his examination being conducted by Fiefbrun, who appears to have been

a personal enemy, Henri replaced him by Valette, Grand Provost of

Navarre, the more willingly since he was aware that Fiefbrun was a

devoted partisan of the princess.

The commissioners decided that Brilland should be put to the question.

“On entering the torture-chamber, he protested, in the first place,

that everything that he might say would be owing to the violence of

the pain, and that he knew nothing about the poison, and that he was

innocent. Nevertheless, when the torture was applied, he accused Madame

in this sense, that she and he had plotted the poisoning of the late

prince from the time that he [Condé] was aware of her behaviour, and

that, on leaving this town, his Excellency had recommended him to keep

watch over her actions, and to take care of her, declaring that, after

she was brought to bed, he should chastise her for her misconduct; and

that when he [Brilland] informed her of this, the said project was

resolved upon ...; that the said poison had been sent to the ...; that

it had come from M. d’Épernon. He further said that La Doussinière,

_maître d’hôtel_ of his aforesaid lord, had administered the

aforesaid poison in a chicken stuffed with eggs.”[132]

After this so-called confession had been extracted from him, the

wretched man was released from the rack and taken back to prison.

There, on the following day, he was visited by the commissioners,

who ordered his confession to be read over to him. “He disavowed it;

protested that what he had said was false; declared that what he had

done was to escape the violence of the pain: exonerated those whom he

had accused; and maintained his innocence and that he was ignorant

of the poison. At the same time, he confirmed the truth of all the

aforesaid confessions that he had made and signed in the course of the

trial, with the exception of that made under torture ... and declared

that he believed _Madame la Princesse_ and those whom he had

accused to be innocent, and that he knew nothing about the poison.”

Brilland was found guilty and condemned to the most barbarous of all

forms of punishment--to be dismembered by horses. Against this sentence

he appealed.

In the meanwhile, the Princesse de Condé had been formally charged

with complicity in the murder of her husband and summoned before

the commission. She refused to appear, denying the competency of

the tribunal and claiming the privileges of the peerage. The judges

overruled the princess’s objections, whereupon she petitioned Henri

III. that her case should be tried by the Grande Chambre of the

Parlement of Paris. His Majesty having returned a favourable answer,

she appealed to the Parlement, and obtained from that body a degree

calling the affair before it, prohibiting “all judges and others whom

it may concern from taking any further proceedings,” and ordering that

all the documents relating to the case should be immediately forwarded

to the registrar of the court, on the ground that the wives of the

Princes of the Blood were no more able than their husbands to be tried

save by the Parlement of Paris. At the same time, it appointed two

celebrated advocates, François de Montholon and Simon Marion, to act as

counsel for the princess.

The commissioners at Saint-Jean-d’Angely appear to have paid no

attention to these injunctions. The princess again appealed to the

Parlement, which issued a second decree, confirming the first and

ordering the commissioners to appear themselves before it, to answer

for their disobedience. The King of Navarre, who had no intention of

surrendering the conduct of an affair of such great consequence to

himself to the royal judges, from whom he had everything to fear,

replied by issuing a counter-decree, which rejected the pretensions

of the princess, maintained the competency of the tribunal he had

appointed, and ordered the commissioners to prosecute the affair, “in

conformity with the procedure which they had followed hitherto.”

In consequence, the sentence passed upon Brilland was confirmed, and

on 11 July, 1588, the condemned man suffered his terrible fate. “He

gave on this occasion,” writes de Thou, “several proofs of madness,

although he confessed that he was guilty of several other crimes, and

that he recognized the justice of the sentence that the commissioners

chosen to try him had pronounced. He began, however, to blaspheme in

a scandalous fashion, so that those who assisted at the execution

had great difficulty in making him return to his right senses, which

caused people to think that his mind was not very sound, and that, in

consequence, much reliance ought not to be placed on his evidence.”

On the same day, the fugitive page, Belcastel, was executed in effigy.

As for Corbais, the _valet de chambre_, who had fled with the page

and had been trapped so neatly outside the gates of Poitiers, we are

not told what was decided upon in regard to him. He is not mentioned

again in the proceedings.

After the execution of Brilland, the proceedings against the

Princesse de Condé were continued. The Prince de Condé and the Comte

de Soissons demanded to be received as parties to the prosecution,

and their request was granted by the commissioners. The princess once

more appealed to the Parlement of Paris, which issued a third decree,

forbidding Conti and Soissons to pursue the affair except before the

Parlement, and ordering the arrest of the commissioners and the seizure

and sequestration of their property.

This decree, like the two which had preceded it, was treated with

contempt, since the Parlement was, of course, powerless to enforce

it, and on 19 July the commissioners directed that the princess

should be brought to trial, but that, on account of her pregnancy,

the trial should not begin until forty days after her confinement.

In the meanwhile, she was very strictly guarded in the house of the

Sieur de Saint-Mesme, governor of Saint-Jean-d’Angely, in which she

had been shut up ever since her arrest, and only permitted to see a

very few persons. “During the six months that she was enceinte,” writes

Fiefbrun, “she was retained in her lodging, subjected to a thousand

slanders, and interrogated frequently by the chosen and incompetent

judges, not as a great princess, but as a simple demoiselle, without

any regard to her rank or her privileges. I leave all those who have

heard it spoken about to imagine how many anguishes, how much despair,

assailed her soul during that long time, in which she was not permitted

to speak or to confer with any one save two or three of her intimates,

without any other counsel or assistance.”

On 1 September, 1588, six months after the death of her husband, the

captive princess gave birth to a son, Henri de Bourbon, second of that

name, and third Prince de Condé. Fiefbrun gravely assures us that, at

the moment of the boy’s birth, “an extraordinary light was observed in

the heavens, and that, on the day of his baptism, the sky being serene

and cloudless, a clap of thunder was heard, which several persons who

understood meteors regarded as of good augury.”

Less importance, however, was attached to these happy prognostications

than to a circumstance which appeared to remove the suspicion on which

the charge against the princess had been principally based, namely,

that she was with child by the page Belcastel, and had poisoned her

husband to escape his just vengeance. This was the striking resemblance

which the infant prince bore to the late Prince de Condé, which was

admitted even by some who had until then been inclined to believe in

the guilt of the princess. “To-day, at noon precisely,” wrote the

governor of Saint-Jean-d’Angely to the Duc de Thouars, “_Madame la

Princesse_, your sister, has been delivered of the most beautiful

prince imaginable, and with more resemblance (so far as one can judge

at his age) to the late Monseigneur, his father, than one can describe.

For which I praise God, as do an infinite number of honourable people,

your servants.”

And Gilbert, the mayor of the town, wrote that “he had seen to-day the

dead father born again in a child so like him in every respect that

there was not a man living but was of opinion that never had son so

closely resembled his father.”

Desmoustiers, the pastor of the Protestant Church of

Saint-Jean-d’Angely, and Delacroix, the late prince’s chaplain, bore

similar testimony, the former declaring that the boy resembled his

father “_en tout et partout_”; while the latter concluded his

letter by observing: “Thus does Our Lord (just Judge) cause the truth

concerning the poisoning to be known.”[133]

Whether it was that the birth of a son had given the Princesse de

Condé a certain prestige with the Protestants, disposed to see in

this child a hope for the future, or that the want of proofs rendered

the prosecution difficult to continue, or that the King of Navarre’s

attention was occupied by weightier matters, the investigation was not

resumed, and the members of the commission which had been appointed

to conduct it dispersed. The princess, nevertheless, remained in

captivity, although she now enjoyed a certain amount of liberty,

since she went twice a week to see her little son, who had been put

out to nurse at Mazeroy, near Saint-Jean-d’Angely; and a path across

the fields between Beaufief and the road leading to that town, which

she generally followed, bears to this day the name of “_le chemin

de la princesse_.”[134] She was unable to obtain either the trial

before the Parlement of Paris which she had repeatedly demanded or her

liberty, and she appealed in vain to her relatives, to the neighbouring

nobility, and to every person of importance whom chance happened to

bring to Saint-Jean-d’Angely, to use their influence on her behalf. But

neither her relatives nor the different nobles to whom she addressed

herself seemed disposed to take any active steps in her favour, and it

was left to a magistrate, the Président de Thou, to be the first to

interest himself in the forsaken woman.

In the summer of 1589, de Thou, charged with a mission from Henri IV.,

passed through Saint-Jean-d’Angely, and the princess, since she was

unable either to receive or to visit him herself, had the happy idea

of sending to him her daughter Éléonore and the little Henri, with a

request that he would accord them his protection. The kind heart of the

worthy president was touched, and he promised to do everything in his

power on behalf of the princess and her children. Several years passed,

however, before circumstances permitted him to render any material

assistance to his illustrious clients.

Henri IV., as the King of Navarre had now become, did not appear

to cast any doubt upon the legitimacy of the little prince, since

he consented to stand godfather to him, and conferred upon him

indirectly the government of Guienne, which he himself had held

before his accession to the throne. But this informal acknowledgment

carried little weight, and, so long as the Princesse de Condé was

not exonerated from the terrible charge which was still hanging over

her, the boy’s position remained doubtful and precarious. Moreover,

when, after the conversion of Henri IV. and the submission of Paris,

tranquillity was to some degree restored, and the new King’s authority

better established, the late prince’s brothers wished to recommence

the proceedings against their sister-in-law, and urged his Majesty to

declare her child incapable of succeeding to the throne. For some time

their animosity frustrated all the efforts of de Thou on behalf of the

princess and her son, but at length he succeeded in outmanœuvring them.

In January, 1595, the King signed a new decree extending the provisions

of an article of the Edict of Peace of 1577, which admitted Protestants

to public office. The Parlement, however, refused to register it,

except on the condition that no member of the Reformed Faith should be

eligible for the post of governor or lieutenant-general of a province,

and persisted in its refusal, notwithstanding all the efforts of the

King to induce it to give way. The attitude of the Parlement placed

Henri IV. in a very embarrassing position, and de Thou, adroitly

seizing his opportunity, offered to secure the passing of the Edict,

provided that the King would guarantee that the young Prince de Condé,

the heir-presumptive to the throne, should be brought up in the

Catholic Faith. His Majesty, at first received this proposition very

ungraciously, but, seeing no other way out of the _impasse_, he

eventually accepted it, and directed the attorney-general to announce

to the Parlement that the Prince de Condé “would forthwith be taken out

of the hands of persons of the Protestant religion to be brought up in

that of Rome.”

This announcement not only secured the registration of the Edict,

but brought about the liberation of the Princesse de Condé, since to

recognize the rights of the son was to acknowledge the innocence of

the mother; and now that the favour of the King appeared to be gained,

the prisoner of Saint-Jean-d’Angely had no lack of supporters. A few

weeks later (June, 1595), Henri, Duc de Montmorency,[135] after having

taken at Dijon his oath as Constable of France, presented to Henri

IV. a petition signed by Diane de France,[136] widow of François,

Maréchal de Montmorency, Charles de Valois, Comte d’Auvergne,[137] the

Duc de Thouars, the Duc de Bouillon, the Baron de Montmorency-Damville,

and other relatives of the princess, praying him to direct that

the accusations brought against her should be adjudicated upon.

The King, by letters-patent, ordered the affair to be submitted to

the Parlement of Paris, and that the minutes of the proceedings at

Saint-Jean-d’Angely should be sent to the registrar of that body.

At the same time, he ordered the princess to be set at liberty, on

condition that the signatories to the petition should make themselves

responsible for her appearance when called upon.

In November, 1595, the princess and her son quitted

Saint-Jean-d’Angely, in charge of Jean de Vivonne, Marquis de Pisani,

whom the King had appointed the boy’s _gouverneur_. In the first

days of December, they arrived at the Château of Saint-Germain, which

had been provisionally assigned the little prince as a residence, and

where, by Henri IV.’s desire, the Parlement of France came to salute

him as first Prince of the Blood and heir-presumptive to the throne.

In the following May, the trial of the princess--if such a name

could be applied to an affair, the issue of which was a foregone

conclusion--came on for hearing. The Prince de Conti and the Comte

de Soissons had protested against everything that might be decided

as illegal, on the ground that the judgment of the case belonged to

the King alone, “holding his court garnished with peers, legitimately

assembled.” The Parlement summoned the two princes to appear before

it, and show cause why their sister-in-law should not be pronounced

innocent of the death of her husband. They refused, whereupon the

court declared all the proceedings in Saintonge null and void and

of no effect, “as contrary to the authority of the King, and to the

decrees of his Court of Parlement, and useful in no way whatsoever to

the furtherance of justice.” Finally, on 24 July, it issued a decree

declaring the princess “pure and innocent,” which, in accordance with

letters-patent issued by the King, was registered by all the provincial

Parlements.

Thus terminated the mysterious affair of Charlotte Catherine de la

Trémoille, Princesse de Condé.

But, as an eighteenth-century historian very rightly points out,

a case gained before the Parlement was not necessarily a victory

at the tribunal of public opinion; while over and over again that

body had quashed the decrees of the lesser courts only to have its

own verdict reversed by the judgment of history. The proceedings at

Saint-Jean-d’Angely were declared null and of no effect, but the affair

was not sent back for trial to the place where the supposed crime had

been committed, nor submitted to a new examination. Thus, the Princesse

de Condé, though pronounced innocent by the Law, was not exonerated

by a large section of the public; nor has time altogether effaced the

suspicions which remained in so many minds.[138]

Since all the documents connected with the investigation at

Saint-Jean-d’Angely were, by order of the Parlement, solemnly burned

by the registrar of the Court, in the presence of the First President,

Achille de Harlay, and the _rapporteur_, Édouard Molé, until some

fresh evidence shall be forthcoming, historians must renounce the hope

of discovering the truth of this _cause célèbre_, and content

themselves with more or less hazardous conjectures.

That the prince died from the effects of poison was undoubtedly the

firm belief of practically all his contemporaries. One writer of the

time alone, so far as we are aware, Joseph Texeira,[139] takes a

different view. In 1598, Texeira published an historical treatise, in

Latin, dealing with the principal events of Henri IV.’s reign,[140]

in the course of which he denied that the Prince de Condé had been

poisoned, and attributed his death to the injuries he had received at

Coutras, from which, as we have mentioned, he had suffered a great

deal of pain. Texeira pretends that the doctors who performed the

autopsy were divided as to the cause of death, and that the opinion of

those who held that it was due to natural causes was adopted, after

a solemn discussion, by the Faculty of Montpellier. But Désormeaux,

so devoted to the Condé family, confesses that, despite his active

researches, he was unable to find the proof of the two facts advanced

by Texeira in the documents of the time, whether published or in

manuscript, and if, after this avowal, he inclines to the same opinion,

it is because he cannot bring himself to believe that Texeira, Almoner

to the King and Councillor of State, was capable of a lie.[141]

But, admitting that the unfortunate prince was poisoned, what evidence

is there to connect his wife with the crime? Nothing whatever save the

confessions of Brilland, made under torture, and which he subsequently

denied, and the rumour of her undue intimacy with the page Belcastel,

about which, singularly enough, nothing seems to have been heard

until after her husband’s death. On the other hand, there are the

strongest possible reasons for believing her to be entirely innocent.

She was, undoubtedly, deeply in love with her husband at the time of

her marriage, and had given him, as we have seen, signal proofs of her

devotion; and it is, indeed, difficult to believe that in less than

two years her affection could have been transformed into a murderous

hatred. Moreover, she had apparently nothing to gain and much to lose

by his death, for in the line of succession he stood next to the King

of Navarre, a childless man, whose life was spent in the midst of

perils. In conniving at the murder of the Prince de Condé, quite apart

from the danger of detection and punishment, she would have deprived

herself of the prospect of becoming Queen of France.

The love-affairs of the Condés (1530-1740) · 第 10 / 23 章