judging. It is quite certain, however, that the countess considered she
had acquitted herself in rather a smart manner before her judges; and
when they laughed at and cheered her sallies against the abbés, she no
doubt thought she had succeeded in hoodwinking not a few of them, quite
forgetting that though mankind may be ready enough to be amused, it is
not invariably at the expense of its reason and its judgment.
“After I had made my obeisances to the assembly,” continues the countess,
“I withdrew, and was conducted by the keeper of the Conciergerie and a
great many gentlemen whom I did not know, to his wife’s apartment. All
paid me their compliments, all expressed their approbation, observing
that I defended myself well, and that even an experienced advocate could
not have pleaded my cause better.”[323]
As soon as the countess had retired, the first president gave orders
for the _sellette_ to be removed, and sent to inform the cardinal that,
this having been done, he could present himself before the court.[324]
The Prince de Rohan entered, attired in a long purple robe, the mourning
colour of cardinals, and with scarlet stockings and cap, and wearing
his orders round his neck, saltier-wise. “He had,” says his admiring
grand-vicar, in his most grandiloquent style, “the noble presence of a
man profoundly affected, but calm, in the midst of his troubles; his
countenance expressed alike respect, modesty, and dignity, which disposed
his judges favourably towards him. He held himself erect at the bar,
his pallid complexion indicating the ravages of a recent illness which
had nearly proved fatal to him. The first president, at the request
of several of the councillors, invited him to be seated during the
long examination which he was about to undergo. The prince marked his
sensibility of the proffered favour by a profound bow, and only availed
himself of it at the third invitation. Questioned successively by certain
of his judges, who hoped to obtain satisfactory information on points
not perfectly plain, he astonished them by the clearness, the precision,
and the force of his answers. He perceived the great interest which his
humiliating situation inspired, and profited by it frankly to develop the
various false steps which his good faith and credulity had caused him to
take. ‘I was completely blinded,’ exclaimed he, ‘by the intense desire
which I felt to regain the good graces of the queen.’ This touching
scene excited a profound sensation in the breasts of the members of this
august tribunal which was about to decide the fate of one of the highest
personages in the kingdom.”[325]
When the examination of the cardinal was concluded, Cagliostro was
summoned before the court. He presented himself before his judges dressed
in a green velvet coat, embroidered over with gold lace; his hair,
plaited from the top of his head, fell in small curls over his shoulders,
which gave him a singular appearance, not altogether inconsistent with
the character of the charlatan he was commonly believed to be. “Who are
you?—whence do you come?” was asked of him. “I am a noble traveller,” he
replied. At these words the countenances of the judges brightened up, and
observing that they seemed well disposed towards him, Cagliostro entered
boldly upon his defence, intermingling his bad French with Greek, Arabic,
Latin, and Italian. His expression, his gestures, and his vivacity were
as amusing as the subject-matter of his discourse, and he quitted the
hall perfectly satisfied with having made his judges smile.[326]
The Demoiselle d’Oliva was examined the last. As she had already
confessed all she knew, and had nothing to add to her previous testimony,
the interrogatories addressed to her were not many, and she was soon
permitted to retire.
XXXIII.
1786. MAY 31.
DEBATE IN THE COURT OF PARLIAMENT.—THE SENTENCES.
From half-past four in the morning of the 31st of May all the members of
the cardinal’s family, women as well as men, were assembled at the door
of the parliament chamber, in order to be in the way of the judges as
they passed into the hall. “They employed,” we are told, “no other means
of solicitation beyond preserving a mournful silence, in which might be
discerned alike their grief, their firmness, and their respect for the
throne and for the laws. This mode of solicitation, so noble, so worthy
of the illustrious houses of Rohan, Soubise, Guéménée, and Lorraine, and
at the same time so perfectly conformable to the nature of the affair in
which the cardinal was implicated, made a more profound impression upon
his judges than all the eloquence which was exercised in his behalf.”[327]
If the members of the cardinal’s family did not, on this occasion,
publicly appeal to his judges in his favour, it is certain that during
the course of the proceedings every effort had been made by the grand
almoner’s relatives and friends to increase the number of his adherents
among the councillors who had to judge the case. Mesdames de Marsan and
de Brionne, and the Prince de Soubise, visited all the members of the
Grand Chamber in turn, and solicited them in the cardinal’s behalf;[328]
besides which, on the very morning of the trial, Madame de Brionne,
dissatisfied with the attitude of the first president, did not scruple
to reproach him in his own house with his partiality and bad faith, and
to plainly tell him that it was well known he had sold himself to the
Court.[329] We know that the prime minister, the Count de Vergennes,
was a secret partisan of the grand almoner’s, and we know also, that M.
de Laurencel, the procureur-général’s deputy, drew up a list of names
of members of the Great Chamber, wherein he set forth against each
the means that had been employed to gain that particular councillor’s
vote. This list was found in after years among the papers which
Marie-Antoinette intrusted to M. Campan during the Revolution, and which
his daughter-in-law, Madame Campan, afterwards had under her charge. From
this document it would seem that ladies of the highest position did not
scruple to accept large bribes to exercise their powers of seduction in
the cardinal’s behalf, and it was by these means, we are told, that some
of the most venerable and most respectable among the judges had been
corrupted.[330]
Between five and six o’clock the Parliament, Grand Chamber, and
Tournelle, had assembled. The number of members present amounted to
sixty-two, which subsequently became reduced to forty-nine, when the
loquacious clerical councillors had retired, as they were obliged to do,
on its being found that the judgment involved afflictive punishments.[331]
The proceedings were opened by the procureur-général, M. Joly de Fleury,
who, when contrôleur-général in former years, had experienced his share
of persecution at the hands of Madame de la Motte, with whom he had now
the opportunity of clearing off a few old scores. In a most able speech
he submitted to the Parliament the following extremely fair proposition:
First, that the Parliament should adjudge the “_approuvés_” and the
pretended signature of the queen to be forgeries; secondly, that Count
de la Motte should be sentenced to the galleys for life, by reason of
his contumacy; thirdly, that Villette should undergo a similar sentence,
and further, that he should be whipped and branded, and his effects be
confiscated; fourthly, that Madame de la Motte should be confined for
life in the prison of the Salpêtrière, after being whipped and branded,
her effects to be likewise confiscated; fifthly, that the Cardinal de
Rohan should ask pardon of the king and queen for having been wanting
in respect towards their sacred persons; that he should be banished the
precincts of the Court, and that, during a period to be fixed by the
Parliament, he should be suspended from his office of grand almoner;
that he should be sentenced to such alms-giving as the Parliament might
direct; and, finally, that he should be kept in confinement until he had
obeyed and satisfied the judgment now given. Sixthly, that D’Oliva be put
out of court. Seventhly, that Cagliostro be acquitted.[332]
The party opposed to the queen at once rejected these proposals. No
sooner had M. Joly de Fleury done speaking, than M. de Barillon, a
partisan of the cardinal’s, started up and exclaimed that the conclusions
to which they had just listened were not those of a procureur-général,
but rather those of a minister whom it was not difficult to recognize;
alluding, of course, to the Baron de Breteuil. The advocate-general,
M. Séguier, to the surprise of the excited councillors, joined in this
attack upon his colleague, whom he personally denounced.[333] Hereupon
quite a scene ensued and accusations were bandied backwards and forwards
between the legal officers of the crown. M. de Fleury reproached M.
Séguier with his loose and disorderly life, with his nightly rambles in
the Palais Royal, and the money that these cost him. “It may be so,”
replied the other, “out of my house I do what I please, but no one has
known me to sell my opinion basely to fortune.” The procureur-général
made no reply to this insinuation but remained stupefied as it were with
his mouth open.[334]
The incident having terminated, M. de Mineres passed in review all the
various impostures of Madame de la Motte, maintained that the cardinal
was not her only victim, that the jewellers had been equally deceived,
for they loaded her with thanks for the exertions she had made in their
behalf, and offered her presents, whereas, neither thanks nor presents
were offered to the cardinal, whom the jewellers regarded simply as an
instrument chosen by the countess to conduct the negotiation: other
speakers instanced the letter of thanks which the cardinal had repeatedly
advised the jewellers to send to the queen, as a convincing proof of his
good faith. M. de Jonville, third master of requests, attributed the
evidence which appeared to tell most against the cardinal entirely to the
bad memory of Böhmer, of which he gave several proofs.[335]
The speeches of Councillors D’Epréménil and Fretteau, and the Abbé
Sabattier, produced however the greatest effect. This celebrated trio
showed the utmost boldness in attacking the court and braving its anger,
and spoke vehemently in favour of the cardinal’s complete acquittal.[336]
Singularly enough, it was these very same three men who, a year or two
afterwards, stirred up the Parliament to refuse to register the royal
edicts, and were among the first to demand the convocation of the
States-general, for which acts of temerity the two last were packed off
by _lettres-de-cachet_—the one to the Castle of Ham, the other to dreary
Mont St.-Michel, and D’Epréménil, a few months later to the Isle of
Sainte-Marguerite (Calypso’s enchanted island,) whence he returned—the
Revolution having made rapid strides meanwhile—“a red-hot royalist,”
to finish his career under the axe of the guillotine. M. Robert de
St.-Vincent was another of those who spoke in favour of the Prince de
Rohan, who, he maintained, had been deceived by the most plausible lies.
He denied the legality of the procureur-général’s conclusions, and the
power of the Parliament to incorporate them in its judgment, and asked
for the cardinal’s acquittal. He condemned, too, the publicity given to
the proceedings, and expressed his regret that the king and queen had not
been advised by some wiser minister, who would have been more regardful
of the dignity of the crown. The president, D’Ormesson—the same who
sent the countess a few louis “by the hands of the police”—offered an
amendment to the procureur-général’s proposition, to the effect that the
cardinal should retain his offices and dignities, but that he should be
required to ask pardon of the queen for the offence he had committed.
There was no difference of opinion among the judges as to the measure
of punishment to be meted out to Madame de la Motte, excepting that MM.
Robert de Saint-Vincent and Dyonis du Séjour pressed the passing of
sentence of death upon her. As her crime, however, had been unforeseen by
the laws, this penalty could not be legally inflicted.[337]
The discussion, which was very animated, continued throughout the day. At
two o’clock in the afternoon the sitting was suspended, in order that the
judges might dine at a table which the first president had had set out
for them in the hall of St.-Louis; the greater number, we are told, ate
standing, and by half-past three the sitting was resumed. Between nine
and ten o’clock at night, after the final voting had taken place, the
following judgment was delivered.[338]
“The Court, the Great Chamber assembled, in the exercise of its
jurisdiction and on the conclusions of the procureur-général of
the king, declares that the words ‘_approuvé_’ and the signature,
‘_Marie-Antoinette de France_,’ have been fraudulently appended to the
margin of the document, entitled, ‘Propositions and Conditions of Price
and Payment’ for the Necklace brought in question at this trial, and
which are falsely attributed to the queen; orders that the said words
‘_approuvé_,’ and the said signature, ‘_Marie-Antoinette de France_,’
shall be struck out and erased from the said document, and that mention
shall be made of the present decree on the same, which will be and shall
remain deposited in the criminal registry of the Court,[339] of all of
which affirmation shall be made by the court registrar.
“Adjudging the consequences of the contumacy declared good and valid
by the decree of the Court of the 10th of April, 1786, against
Marc-Antoine-Nicolas de la Motte accused, absent—
“For the facts proved by the proceedings condemns the said
Marc-Antoine-Nicolas de la Motte to be flogged and beaten naked with
rods, and branded with a hot iron on the right shoulder with the letters
‘G. A. L.’ by the public executioner; this done to be led and conducted
to the galleys of the king, there to be detained to serve our said king
as convict for life.[340]
“Declares all the goods of the said Marc-Antoine-Nicolas de la Motte
acquired and confiscated to the king, or whomsoever he may appoint, a
fine of two hundred livres to the king being previously levied thereon:
which sentence, by reason of the contumacy of the said De la Motte, shall
be written upon a tablet, which shall be affixed to a post planted for
this purpose in the Place de Grève (place of execution).
“Banishes Louis-Marc-Antoine Rétaux de Villette from the kingdom for life.
“Condemns Jeanne de Valois de Saint-Remi de Luz, wife of
Marc-Antoine-Nicolas de la Motte, while having a halter round her neck,
to be flogged and beaten naked with rods, and branded with a hot iron
upon both shoulders with the letter ‘V,’ by the public executioner; this
done, to be led and conducted to the prison of the Salpêtrière, there to
be detained and confined for life.[341]
“Declares likewise all the goods of the said De la Motte, and the
said Rétaux de Villette, acquired and confiscated to the king, or to
whomsoever he may appoint; a fine of two hundred livres to the king being
previously levied upon each.
“Upon the complaint and accusation brought at the request of the
procureur-général of the king against Marie-Nicole Le Guay, alias d’Oliva
or Dessigny, puts the parties out of court and discharges the process.
“Discharges Alexandre de Cagliostro and Louis-René-Édouard de Rohan from
the complaint and accusation brought against them at the request of the
procureur-général of the king.
“Orders, that the memorials printed for Jeanne de Saint-Remi de Valois
de la Motte shall be and shall continue to be suppressed, as containing
false statements, injurious and calumnious alike against the said
Cardinal de Rohan and the said De Cagliostro.
“Upon the remainder of the request of the said De Cagliostro, alike
against Commissary Chénon and De Launay, governor of the Bastille, puts
it out of court, without prejudice to his appeal when and how he may be
advised; upon the rest of the demands, requests, and conclusions of the
parties puts these out of court.
“Gives permission to the Cardinal de Rohan and the said De Cagliostro to
cause the present judgment to be printed and posted up wheresoever it may
seem good to them.”[342]
Contemporary accounts agree in stating that something like ten thousand
people were assembled in the courts and passages of the palace and in
the neighbourhood of their approaches, all anxious to learn the judgment
of the Parliament.[343] Crowds streamed across the Pont Neuf, the Pont
Saint-Michel, the Pont-au-Change, and the Ponts Notre-Dame, coming from
all parts of Paris. There were courtiers, men of letters, financiers,
abbés, avocats, avoués, shopkeepers and their wives, students, working
men, soldiers, police agents, men and women from the _halles_, and idlers
of every description. “About nine o’clock at night,” says Madame de la
Motte, “I heard a report like that of acclamation in the courtyard. I ran
to look out of one of the windows which commanded a view of the court,
and saw crowds of people running very fast by the great staircase. I
could not distinctly understand what they said, except that one of them,
who was very near the window, cried out, ‘Bravo! bravo! Upon my word, it
is very fortunate for the cardinal; but what will become of poor Madame
de la Motte?’ The moment these words vibrated in my ear, they were like
an electric shock. Unable to sustain myself, my legs bent under me: I
tottered and sank into a chair. When I was a little recovered, the keeper
of the Conciergerie, assisted by his son, conducted me to my apartment,
where having left me for a few minutes, with a view of gaining authentic
information of the definitive sentence of the court, they soon after
returned. ‘The cardinal,’ said they, ‘is put out of court, and delivered
from further process; Cagliostro and D’Oliva are the same; Villette,
madame, is banished, as well as you.’ ‘For how long?’ ‘I believe, for
three years; but everybody blames the judges. We think there will be some
alteration.’”[344]
It is likely enough that, out of consideration for the countess and her
well-known violent temper, the foregoing innocent piece of deception
was practised upon her by the keeper of the Conciergerie, who soon
afterwards prevailed upon her to retire to rest. Meanwhile the judges
were leaving the palace, pressed upon by an immense crowd of people, who
made the walls of the old building ring again with their acclamations. A
thousand voices shouted out, “_Vive le Parlement!_” “_Vive le Cardinal!_”
The market women, throwing themselves in the way of the departing
councillors, vociferated their applause, and offered them bouquets of
flowers. M. Titon, one of the reporters of the case, who, with his
fellow-reporter, Dupuis de Marcé, had adopted the conclusions of the
procureur-général, threw the flowers back again with marked ill-humour,
to let the people see that he merited no share of this popular ovation.
Something, however, more substantial than flowers were in store for M.
Titon, for the king conferred on him the post of civil lieutenant in
reward for his zeal.[345]
When MM. Target and De Bonnières, the advocates who had advised the
cardinal to take his trial before the Parliament, sought to enter the
record office to communicate the judgment to their client, curt old De
Launay, governor of the Bastille, who had the Prince de Rohan in his
charge, informed them that he had received specific orders from the Baron
de Breteuil not to allow any one to speak to his prisoner. On its being
represented to him that the cardinal was no longer in legal custody,
since he had been formally discharged of the accusation against him by
the judgment of the Parliament just rendered, and on the bystanders
expressing their disapprobation by loud murmurs, he eventually permitted
the two advocates to enter. “The cardinal, robed in the Roman purple,”
says Cagliostro, “was carried off in triumph;”[346] and so he was, but
to the Bastille. As soon as the interview between the grand almoner and
his counsel had terminated, De Launay informed him that, the Parliament
having separated, he would have to return to that gloomy state prison.
Hearing this, the cardinal proceeded to follow his gaoler to the
carriage, while the people rushed forward, and kissed both his hands and
his garments. To impose upon the crowd De Launay gave orders for the
vehicle to be driven “to the hôtel,”[347] and the people, imagining the
Palais-Cardinal to be intended, ran beside the carriage, shouting their
congratulations, and only quitted it when it disappeared within the walls
of the grim old fortress, every stone of which was destined in little
more than three short years to be razed to the ground.
XXXIV.
1786. JUNE.
THE SENTENCES CARRIED OUT.—“WHAT IS RESERVED FOR THE BLOOD OF THE
BOURBONS?”
The evening following that on which judgment was pronounced, the gates
of the Bastille were opened to the cardinal, who returned to the
Palais-Cardinal at half-past ten o’clock at night. There he found the
members of his family and the people of the _quartier_ waiting to receive
him, and testify their joy at his acquittal.[348]
Cagliostro shared the popular ovations. He, too, was conducted back in
a sort of triumph to the Bastille, where he remained until he recovered
possession of the portfolio and other effects, minus, however, the one
hundred thousand francs in cash and bills seized in his house, he tells
us, by Commissary Chénon. He left the Bastille late at night in a hackney
coach. The evening, he says, was dark, the part of the city he lived in
retired, but when he arrived at his house in the Rue Saint-Claude he
found himself welcomed by the acclamations of thousands. The doors of
his hôtel had been burst open; the courtyard, the staircase, the very
apartments—indeed, every corner of the house was crowded with people.[349]
As for Rétaux de Villette, he himself tells us that he was recommended by
both the gaoler and the executioner to take his departure as rapidly as
possible—advice which he was only too ready to follow. “Outside the city
gate,” he says, “a great man, who belonged, I believe, to the cardinal,
took me on one side, and gave me a purse of fifty-five louis, and a note
to the Abbé d’Aimar, to whom, he told me, I was to make known my future
wants. When, however, I desired to profit by these instructions, I could
obtain no reply.”[350] Cagliostro says that Villette was banished in the
ignominious sense of the term—that is, led out of prison, with a rope
round his neck, by the executioner, who, when they arrived together at
the city gate, gave him, first of all, a loaf, and then a kick behind,
with strict injunctions never to return.[351] The fifty-five louis,
however, were some sort of salve to the indignity offered to the person
of the ex-gendarme.
Mademoiselle d’Oliva, on being told that she was adjudged “_hors de
cour_,” thought it to be a prohibition against her going to Versailles
any more, and faithfully promised to observe it.[352]
It will be readily understood that the sentences of the Parliament
excited the indignation of both the king and the queen. The former
inveighed against the judgment as being a most outrageous one. The
cardinal, he said, knew too well the usages of the Court to have been
idiot enough to believe that Madame de la Motte was admitted near the
queen, or was charged with any such commission as that of the purchase of
the Necklace.[353]
As for Marie-Antoinette, she was profoundly afflicted. “Come and weep
with me, come and console your friend, my dear Polignac,” she writes;
“the judgment which has just been pronounced is a shameful insult. I
am bathed in tears of grief and despair. One can flatter oneself with
nothing when perversity exhausts every means to crush my spirit. What
ingratitude! But I shall triumph over the wicked by tripling the good
which I have always tried to do. They will feel greater pleasure in
afflicting me than I shall in revenging myself upon them. Come, my dear
heart.”[354]
In writing to her sister, the queen does not restrain her indignation
that the cardinal, whom she believed to be the most guilty in the affair,
should have been allowed to escape. It is thus she expresses herself:—
“1st June, 1786.