Giving a good receipt for proving a man guilty when he is innocent.
De Blenau had not been long in his new abode, before he learned that the
express orders of Chavigni had caused him to be carried thither, rather
than to Pierre-en-Scize, where his confinement would have been more
strict; and he felt grateful for this mark of the Statesman's
consideration. For the first few days, too, he experienced every kind of
attention, and was permitted to enjoy all sort of liberty consistent
with his safe custody.
But this was not destined to endure long; and his imprisonment gradually
became more rigorous than that which he had undergone in the Bastille.
The use of books and writing materials was denied him, and every means
of employing his thoughts seemed studiously withheld. This mode of
weakening the mind, by leaving it to prey upon itself, had its effect
even on De Blenau. He became irritable and desponding; and as he
received no intimation in regard to the charge against him, he began to
conjure up a thousand vague unreal images, and to destroy them as soon
as raised.
After this had continued for some days, he was surprised by the door of
his apartment opening one night, at the moment he was about to retire to
rest, giving admittance to the corrupt Judge Lafemas, and a person
habited as one of the _Greffiers_ of the Court. There are some who are
cruel from fear, and some from motives of interest; but few, I trust,
who from natural propensity rejoice in the sufferings of a
fellow-creature. Such, however, was the character of Lafemas--at least
if we may believe the histories of the time; and in the present instance
he entered the chamber of De Blenau with a countenance which certainly
expressed no great unwillingness in the performance of what is always
painful when it is a duty.
In this place we shall but give a small part of the conversation between
De Blenau and the Judge; for the course of examination which the latter
pursued toward the prisoner was so precisely similar in its nature to
that which he followed on a former occasion in the Bastille, that its
repetition is unnecessary, especially as our history is now hurrying
rapidly to its awful and inevitable conclusion. A part of it, however,
may serve to illustrate the charges brought against De Blenau, and the
circumstances on which they were founded.
"Good night, Monsieur de Blenau," said Lafemas, approaching the table at
which he sat. "I did not think to meet you again in prison: I had hoped
that when last you escaped so well, you would have been careful to keep
yourself free from any thing of this kind."
"Good night, Monsieur le Juge," replied De Blenau; "do me the favour of
sitting down--for I suppose I may do the honours of my chamber, though
it be but a prison. I am glad to see you, Sir; for I trust you can
inform me why I am here confined."
"Monsieur de Blenau," said the Judge, seating himself, "we will be frank
with one another. You are very well aware how deeply you are implicated
in this conspiracy; and I will tell you that we have ample proofs of
every thing. But at the same time I know of a way by which you can save
yourself; a way which one or two highly honourable men have embraced,
having been misled at first by designing persons, but having returned to
a sense of duty and honour, and confessed all they knew, together with
the names of those they supposed to be amongst the guilty."
"I have no doubt, Sir," replied the Count, "that all and every thing you
say is correct and right. But there is one point, on which I am in the
dark. I am not aware of what conspiracy you mean.--I have, it is true,
conspired----" Lafemas turned an attentive ear, and De Blenau perceived
that the Greffier who had followed the Judge was making a note of all
that passed. "Stop, gentlemen," said he, nodding to the officer; "take
the whole of my sentence, I beg. You shall have it in plain language--I
have, it is true, conspired on more than one occasion, with sundry of
his Majesty's lieges, to kill a fat buck or a lusty boar, in various of
the royal forests in this kingdom. But this is the only conspiracy of
which I have been guilty; and for that I can plead his Majesty's free
permission and pardon."
"All this is very good, Monsieur le Comte," said Lafemas, his brows
darkening; "but I must tell you that it will not serve the purpose you
propose. I came here to you as a friend--"
"And as a friend," interrupted De Blenau, "you brought with you that
gentleman in black to take down my words, in case I should be at a loss
to remember what I had said."
"I must once more tell you, Sir," said the Judge, "that this will not
answer your purpose, for a full confession has been made by Monsieur de
Cinq Mars since his condemnation."
"Since his condemnation!" exclaimed De Blenau. "Good God! is it possible
that he is condemned?"
Lafemas was little capable of understanding any of those finer feelings
which brighten the dull void of human existence. He read from the black
page of his own mind, and fancied that every other was written in the
same dark character. All that he saw in the exclamation of De Blenau was
fear for himself, not feeling for his friend; and he replied, "Yes,
Monsieur le Comte, he is condemned to lose his head for the crimes of
which he has been guilty: the question also formed part of his sentence,
but this he has avoided by making a full confession, in which, as you
may easily suppose, your name is very fully comprised."
"You may as well cease, Sir," replied the Count. "It may indeed be true
that my unhappy friend is guilty and has confessed his guilt; but no
language you can use will ever persuade me that, knowing my innocence,
as he well does, he would say any thing that could implicate me.--I will
farther answer every thing that can possibly be asked of me in a very
few words. As to myself, I have nothing to confess, for I am perfectly
guiltless towards the State: and as to others, I can give no
information, for I am wholly ignorant of any plot, conspiracy, or
treason whatsoever."
"I am sorry for your obstinacy, Monsieur de Blenau," said Lafemas
rising; "for the Cardinal has resolved that you shall confess, and we
have the means of making the most stubborn answer. I am, in fact,
commanded this very night to use measures which might not be very
agreeable to you. But I give you till to-morrow to consider, and so bid
you farewell."
The plans of Cinq Mars had run into various ramifications, involving a
multitude of persons in a greater or less degree; but all fell equally
under the hatred of the Cardinal, and he spared no means, legal or
illegal, to discover the most remote windings of the conspiracy, and to
force or induce the various parties to it to make confessions, which
were afterwards used as evidence against themselves, as well as others.
As the proofs against De Blenau were, of course, very defective, the
last command of Richelieu to Lafemas, before leaving Lyons, was to spare
no power of intimidation, in order to make the prisoner criminate
himself, before even granting him the form of a trial. In pursuance of
these directions, Lafemas ceased not for some days to torment De Blenau
with continual interrogatories, mingled with menaces and irritation,
ingeniously calculated either to frighten his victim into some
confession of guilt, or to throw him off his guard by rousing his anger.
More than once he was carried into the chamber of the Question, and once
was even bound to the rack. But though, in the secret halls of the
Bastille, Lafemas would not have scrupled to proceed to any act of
cruelty, yet at Lyons, amidst people upon whose silence he could not
rely, he dared not put the prisoner to the question, without some
appearance of legal authority. At length, therefore, the day for his
trial was fixed; but yet Lafemas prepared to make him previously undergo
a species of refined torture, which none but a demon could have devised.
Denied all the privileges usually conceded to prisoners, unacquainted
with the precise charges to be brought against him, refused all legal
assistance, and debarred the use of pen and ink, De Blenau clearly saw
that Richelieu had resolved on his destruction, and merely granted him
the form of a trial to gloss over his tyranny, in the eyes of the
people; nevertheless, he prepared to defend himself as far as possible,
and at all events to establish his innocence; for the honour of his good
name, though it might not even tend to save him from the injustice with
which he was threatened. For this purpose he accurately examined his
conduct since his liberation from the Bastille, and noted carefully
every circumstance, that he might be enabled to prove the nature of all
his occupations so correctly, that the impossibility of his joining in
any conspiracy would be made evident. He found, however, that to do this
effectually, some aid besides that of mere memory would be necessary,
and possessing no other means of committing his thoughts to writing, he
had recourse to the expedient of pointing some pieces of wood, which he
procured from the gaoler, and then by charring them in the lamp, he was
enabled to make notes upon some torn linen, preparatory to his trial.
Being thus occupied the greater part of the night, his usual time of
rest was from day-break to mid-day; but one night, a few days previous
to the time appointed for his trial, he was disturbed in his occupation
by the dull heavy clang of hammers in the great Square before his
prison, and proceeding to the window, he endeavoured to ascertain the
cause. Through the bars he could perceive various lights, and people
moving about in different directions, but could not discern in what they
were employed; and quitting the casement, he returned to the slow and
laborious operation of writing his notes, in the manner we have
described. At length, wearied out, he threw himself upon his bed,
without taking off his clothes, and soon fell into a profound sleep,
which remained unbroken till late the next day. It is probable that he
might have slept still longer, had he not been aroused by his
tormentor, Lafemas, who, standing by his bedside, with two of his
inferior demons, roused him out of the happy forgetfulness into which he
had fallen. "Rise, Monsieur de Blenau, rise!" said the Judge, his eyes
gleaming with malicious pleasure; "rise, here is something in the
_Place_ which it is necessary you should behold."
De Blenau awoke suddenly from his sleep, suffered himself to be
conducted to the window, where the Judge and his two followers placed
themselves behind him, so as to obstruct his retreat, and in a manner to
force upon him the sight of what was passing in the _Place_.
The Square of Terreaux was filled with an immense multitude, and there
was a deep awful silence reigned amongst them. All eyes were turned
towards a spot exactly opposite the window at which De Blenau stood,
where there appeared a high raised scaffold, covered with black cloth,
and surrounded by a strong body of troops, who kept the multitude at a
distance, without impeding their view of the dreadful scene which was
acting before them. A large log of timber lay across the front of the
scaffold, and beside it stood a tall brawny man, leaning on an immense
axe, which seemed as if a giant's force would hardly wield it, so
ponderous was its form. The Prevost of Lyons, dressed in black, and
bearing his staff of office, stood on the other side with several of the
civil officers of the city; and a file of pikemen closed each flank of
the scaffold, leaving the front open, as we have said, to the view of
the spectators.
But it was the form of his unhappy friend, Cinq Mars, that first riveted
De Blenau's attention; and he continued to gaze upon him with painful
interest, while, standing beside the block on which he was to suffer, he
calmly unloosed his collar, and made the executioner cut away the glossy
curls of his hair, which otherwise, falling down his neck, might have
impeded the blow of the axe. When this was over, Cinq Mars raised the
instrument of his death, and running his finger over the edge, seemed to
ascertain that it was sharp; and then laying it down, he turned to the
good De Thou, who stood beside him, a sharer in his punishment, though
not a sharer in his fault. Cinq Mars appeared to entreat his pardon for
some offence; and it is probable that having implicated him at all in
the conspiracy was the only circumstance that then weighed upon the mind
of the Grand Ecuyer. The only reply of De Thou was a warm affectionate
embrace; and then with the easy dignity of a mind at rest, Cinq Mars
withdrew himself from his arms, and knelt down before the block--De
Blenau turned away his head.
"You had better observe, Monsieur de Blenau," said Lafemas, "the fate
which those two traitors undergo; for such will be your own, if you
refuse the hand of mercy held out to you, and persist in obstinate
silence.--Ah!--so much!" continued he, looking from the window, "so much
for Monsieur de Cinq Mars! That new fellow is expert--he has the head
off at one blow!"
"Wretch!" exclaimed De Blenau, forcibly passing him, and proceeding from
the window, "unfeeling wretch!--Monsieur Lafemas," he added, after
pausing a moment, "you were perhaps right in supposing that this torture
was superior to any other you could inflict. But I have once more to
tell you, Sir, that by this or by any other means you will wring from me
nothing that can betray my innocence or my honour."
"Then die as you deserve!" replied Lafemas; and after once more looking
from the window, and muttering to himself a few words, whose import De
Blenau did not catch, he left the apartment with his two followers. De
Blenau cast himself on the bed, and hiding his face in the clothes,
endeavoured to drive from his memory the dreadful scene he had just
beheld; but it still continued for many an after-hour to hover before
his eyes, and deprive him of all rest or peace.
The hours of a prison are always slow, and they were now doubly slow to
De Blenau, having no other pastime than painful reflections, and
anticipations equally bitter.
At length, however, the day of his trial arrived, and he was conveyed in
a carriage to Pierre-en-Scize, where, in the hall of audience, sate
three of the devoted creatures of Richelieu, presiding over a body
equally governed by themselves, and all prepared to pronounce a sentence
already dictated by the Minister. Although the President of the
parliament of Grenoble nominally directed the business of the Court,
Lafemas was not absent, and in his eyes De Blenau instantly discerned
his fate.
The charge against the prisoner was read by one of the clerks, declaring
him to stand in danger of high treason, in having conspired with the
Sieurs Cinq Mars, Fontrailles, De Thou, and others, to bring foreign
troops into France, and for having treated and combined with a power at
open war with the kingdom for various treasonable and disloyal purposes.
The evidence brought forward to establish this, was as frivolous as the
accusation was unfounded. Even the very semblance of justice was nearly
abandoned, the Judges seeming to go through the trial as a useless and
tiresome ceremony, which might very well be dispensed with.
It was proved, indeed, that the prisoner had often been seen in private
with the unfortunate Cinq Mars; and it was also given in evidence by a
servant of the Duke of Orleans, that he had carried a letter from that
Prince to De Blenau at Moulins; and that in consequence of that letter,
as he conceived, the Duke had gone, with a great air of secrecy, to a
particular spot, where he was unaccustomed to ride upon ordinary
occasions, and that there he was met by De Blenau. What conversation
took place between them, he could not tell; but after they had
separated, the Duke, he said, gave particular orders that their meeting
should be mentioned to no man.
The next witness brought forward was the messenger who had carried to De
Blenau the King's permission to return to court, and who proved that,
instead of finding the Count at Moulins, or any where in the
Bourbonnois, to which, according to the King's command, he was bound to
confine himself, he had been conducted by the Count's page to Troyes in
Champagne, where he found Monsieur de Blenau himself ready to set off
for some other place. This witness also added, that he had learned in
the town of Troyes, that Monsieur de Blenau had been absent one whole
day, during which time he had visited the old Castle of Mesnil St. Loup;
and that at his return he did not go to the same hotel from which he had
proceeded in the morning.
When the evidence was gone through, the President of Grenoble signified
to the prisoner that he might speak in his own defence; and though well
assured that on his judges he could make no impression, De Blenau
resolved not to allow the accusation to remain unrepelled, and replied
at some length to what had been urged against him. He showed the
impossibility of preparing any defence, when the nature of the charge
had never reached his ears till that day. He pointed out that, though he
had known and loved the unhappy Cinq Mars, their friendship was no proof
that he was at all acquainted with the conspiracy for which the other
had suffered; and that though he had met the Duke of Orleans, and
received a letter from him, that was not sufficient to show him
concerned in any plot against the State. He acknowledged that he had
left the Bourbonnois without the King's permission; but he stated the
powerful motives which had induced him to do so, and gave a correct
account, from the notes he had prepared, of every moment of his time
since he had been liberated from the Bastille. He farther declared his
innocence: he proved that he had been absent from all the principal
scenes of the conspiracy; and ended by demanding that the confession of
the Italian Villa Grande should be produced.
The President of Grenoble turned his eyes upon Lafemas; but that worthy
Judge assumed an air of perfect unconsciousness, and demanded, what
Italian the prisoner meant?
De Blenau now clearly and distinctly stated all he knew concerning him,
and again demanded that his confession should be brought forward. But
still Lafemas appeared in doubt. "Monsieur de Blenau," said he,
"although this seems to me but a manoeuvre to gain time, I have no
objection that the papers of this Court should be searched, if you can
give us the baptismal name of this Italian, of whom at present we know
nothing; and even this is a mere matter of grace and favour."
De Blenau declared his incapacity to do so, but protested against the
unjust proceedings of the Court, and showed that, if time and
opportunity had been allowed for preparing his defence, he would have
been enabled, by application to the Count de Chavigni, to bring forward
the paper he mentioned, and to prove the truth of every thing he had
asserted, by the evidence of persons now at a distance. He was still
speaking when Lafemas rose and interrupted him. "Perceiving," said the
Judge, with unblushing effrontery, "that the prisoner has concluded his
defence, I will now occupy the Court for a few moments, in order to
explain the reasoning on which my own opinion is founded, although I see
but one conclusion to which any one can come upon the merits of the case
before us. It has been shown that the prisoner was the sworn--the bosom
friend of the traitor who has already suffered for his crimes; that he
was in constant communication with almost all the conspirators; and that
the Royal Duke, who has unfortunately dyed his name with so black a
spot, at the very same time that he was engaged in plotting the ruin of
his country, was in secret correspondence with the individual before us.
It has farther been proved, that the prisoner, after having been
_relegué_ in Bourbon, quitted the place to which he was bound to confine
himself, and went, upon what he cannot but own himself to be a wild
romantic chase, into Champagne. This part of his story is a very strange
one, according to his own showing; but when we come to compare it with
the confession of the traitor Cinq Mars, the matter becomes more clear.
It was in the old Castle of St. Loup, near the city of Troyes, says the
confession, that the principal meeting of the conspirators was held; and
it was to this very Castle of St. Loup that the prisoner directed his
course from Moulins. Evidently for the purpose of concealment also, the
prisoner, on his return to Troyes, instead of directing his course to
the inn where he had formerly alighted, proceeded to another, at which,
unfortunately for himself, he was overtaken by the King's messenger. I
think it is unnecessary to say more upon these points. To my mind they
are convincing. It is true, indeed, Monsieur de Blenau has shrewdly kept
his hand-writing from any paper which could prove him an active member
of this conspiracy. But what man in his senses can doubt that he was
criminally aware of its existence? This, then, is his crime: and I
pronounce the concealment of treason to be as great a crime as treason
itself. But if there were wanting a case in point to prove that the law
considers it as such, I would cite the condemnation of De Thou, who, but
two days ago, suffered with the traitor Cinq Mars. Let us now, my
brethren," he added, "retire to consider of our sentence; for I have
only spoken thus much, not to bias your opinion, but simply that the
prisoner himself, before he leaves the Court, may know, at least, _my_
sentiments."
The Judges now withdrew to the cabinet appointed for their
deliberations, and De Blenau was removed from the court to a small
apartment hard by. He had not been here a moment when his page, Henri de
La Mothe, burst into the room. "My dear, dear master!" exclaimed the
boy, throwing himself at his feet, "they tell me that you certainly will
not be condemned, for that you have not been taken to what is called the
_dead man's dwelling_: so the sentinel let me in to see you."
"Henry! how came you hither!" exclaimed De Blenau, hurriedly--"But we
have no time to think of that--My fate is sealed--I have read it in the
triumphant glance of that demon, Lafemas.--Mark me, my boy, and if ever
you loved me, obey me well.--When I am dead--Do you hear?--When I am
dead, near my heart you will find a portrait. Take it, with this ring,
to Mademoiselle de Beaumont. Tell her, that the one was the likeness of
all I love on earth; and the other, the ring that was to have bound her
to me for ever. Say that De Blenau sends them to her in death, and that
his last thought was of Pauline de Beaumont."
"Alas! Mademoiselle de Beaumont!" said the Page. But as he spoke, the
door opened and an officer of the court entered, followed by a priest.
"Begone, boy!" said the officer, leading Henry to the door. "How came
you in here? We have more serious matter in hand now."
"Remember!" said De Blenau, holding up his hand impressively,
"remember!" And Henry, bursting into tears, was hurried from the
apartment. "Now, Father," continued De Blenau, turning to the Priest,
"let us to your business."
"It is a sad one, my son," he replied; "it is but to tell you, that you
must prepare to leave a world of sorrow!"
"God's will be done!" said De Blenau.