On the 30th of October, 1834, a mysterious personage was placed at the
bar of the Assize Court of the Seine, on a charge of conspiring to
overthrow the government of Louis Philippe, and of assuming titles
which did not belong to him, for the purpose of perpetrating fraud.
This individual, who is described as a little man, of aristocratic
appearance, was another of the many pretenders who have from time to
time assumed the character of Louis XVII., and his story was so
evidently false that it would scarcely be worth mention were it not
for the fate which befell him. For several years he had been prowling
throughout France in various disguises, and under a multitude of
names, swindling the credulous public; and from being an assumed
baron, he suddenly developed himself into the dauphin of the Temple,
and laid claim to the throne. Like the other impostors, he made his
assumption profitable, and found a peculiarly easy victim in the
Marquise de Grigny, a lady aged eighty-two years, who not only gave
him all her ready-money, but would have assigned her estates to him if
the law had not interposed. So successful was he in victimizing the
public, that he could afford to keep a private printing-press at work,
and disburse large sums to stir up disturbances in various parts of
the country; and so hopeful, that he bought a plumed hat, a sword, and
a gorgeous uniform, to appear before his subjects in fitting guise on
the day of his restoration.
The clothes-basket of the laundress was brought into requisition for
his benefit also, and in it he lay ensconced while devoted friends
were carrying him away from the Temple, and from the rascally Simon,
who was still in authority. Like Meves, he asserted that Madame Simon
aided the plot, and in the course of his trial placed a certain M.
Remusat in the witness-box, who stated that while he was in the
hospital at Parma a woman called Semas complained bitterly of the
treatment to which she was subjected, and declared loudly that if her
children knew it they would soon come to her relief. Remusat thereupon
asked her if she had any children, when she responded, "My children,
sir, are the children of France! I was their _gouvernante_!" There was
no mistaking the allusion, and her astonished hearer replied, "But the
dauphin is dead." "Not so," was the answer; "he lives; and, if I
mistake not, was removed from the Temple in a basket of linen."
"Then," added the witness, "I asked the woman who she was, and she
told me that she was the wife of a man called Simon, the former
guardian-keeper. Then I understood her assertion, 'I was their
_gouvernante_!'"
This extraordinary piece of evidence was entirely uncorroborated, and
in reality the accused had no case. But if he was deficient in proof
of his assertions, he had abundance of audacity. At first he declined
to answer the interrogatories of the judge, and permitted that
functionary to lay bare his past life, without any attempt to dispute
his assertions; but when the witnesses were brought against him, he
broke his silence, and finally became irrepressibly talkative. The
authorities had traced his career with some care, and showed that his
real name was d'Hébert, and that he always used that name in legal
documents, such as transfers of property to himself, being shrewd
enough to know that a conveyance would be invalid if executed in a
false name. In his proclamations, however, he invariably appeared as
"Charles de Bourbon, Duke of Normandy." In private life his favourite
title was Baron Richemont, although sometimes he condescended to be
addressed as Colonel Gustave; and when imperative occasion demanded,
passed under the vulgar cognomen of Bernard.
The agents of police tracked him under all these disguises with the
greatest facility, by means of a clue which he himself provided.
Having been a man of method, he was in the habit of keeping a
memorandum-book or diary, in which he recorded, in cypher, all his
proceedings. This interesting volume fell into the hands of the
detectives, who soon discovered the key to it, and thus enabled the
judge of the Assize Court to present the sham dauphin with a very
vivid portrait of himself drawn by his own hand. Among other
occurrences which were recorded in this diary, was a visit which had
been paid by the pretender to a certain Madame de Malabre, at Caen;
and it was specially noted that he had granted this lady permission to
erect a monument to himself in her garden, and to dedicate it to the
Duke of Normandy; and, what was a very much graver matter, that he had
visited Lyons with the express purpose of stirring up a revolution
there. In some of his letters, also, he mentioned this attempted
up-rising in the great city which rests on the twin rivers, and
asserted that the denouement approached, and that his triumph was
certain. "I am at Lyons," he added, "where I have seen the
representatives of sixty-five departments. We shall march to Paris,
and I have in the capital forces ten times greater than are necessary
to oust the rascal!"
To follow all the evidence which was led against the prisoner would be
very tedious, and worse than useless; but one witness appeared whose
testimony is worthy of record. He was an old man, aged seventy-six,
who was very deaf, and whose voice was almost gone. It was Lasné, the
faithful keeper of the Temple. He said--
"Two people came to my house and asked me if the dauphin were really
dead, and if he had not been carried out of the Temple; and I told
them that the poor child died in my arms, and that though a thousand
years were to pass his Majesty Louis XVII. would never re-appear."