He was a man about town at that period, and was making love to the

demoiselle Jacqueline de la Garde; he had succeeded in gaining her

affections, and brought matters to such a point that she no longer

refused her favours except on the grounds of her pregnancy and the

danger of an indiscretion. The marquis then offered to introduce to her

a matron who could deliver women without the pangs of labour, and who

had a very successful practice. The same Jacqueline de la Garde further

gave evidence at the trial that M. de Saint-Maixent had often boasted,

as of a scientific intrigue, of having spirited away the son of a

governor of a province and grandson of a marshal of France; that he

spoke of the Marchioness de Bouille, said that he had made her rich, and

that it was to him she owed her great wealth; and further, that one day

having taken her to a pretty country seat which belonged to him, she

praised its beauty, saying "c'etait un beau lieu"; he replied by a pun

on a man's name, saying that he knew another Baulieu who had enabled him

to make a fortune of five hundred thousand crowns. He also said to

Jadelon, sieur de la Barbesange, when posting with him from Paris, that

the Countess de Saint-Geran had been delivered of a son who was in his

power.

The marquis had not seen Madame de Bouille for a long time; a common

danger reunited them. They had both learned with terror the presence of

Henri at the hotel de Saint-Geran. They consulted about this; the

marquis undertook to cut the danger short. However, he dared put in

practice nothing overtly against the child, a matter still more

difficult just then, inasmuch as some particulars of his discreditable

adventures had leaked out, and the Saint-Geran family received him more

than coldly.

Baulieu, who witnessed every day the tenderness of the count and

countess for the boy Henri, had been a hundred times on the point of

giving himself up and confessing everything. He was torn to pieces with

remorse. Remarks escaped him which he thought he might make without

ulterior consequences; seeing the lapse of time, but they were noted and

commented on. Sometimes he would say that he held in his hand the life

and honour of Madame the Marchioness de Bouille; sometimes that the

count and countess had more reasons than they knew of for loving Henri.

One day he put a case of conscience to a confessor, thus: "Whether a man

who had been concerned in the abduction of a child could not satisfy his

conscience by restoring him to his father and mother without telling

them who he was?" What answer the confessor made is not known, but

apparently it was not what the major-domo wanted. He replied to a

magistrate of Moulins, who congratulated him on having a nephew whom his

masters overburdened with kind treatment, that they ought to love him,

since he was nearly related to them.

These remarks were noticed by others than those principally concerned.

One day a wine merchant came to propose to Baulieu the purchase of a

pipe of Spanish wine, of which he gave him a sample bottle; in the

evening he was taken violently ill. They carried him to bed, where he

writhed, uttering horrible cries. One sole thought possessed him when

his sufferings left him a lucid interval, and in his agony he repeated

over and over again that he wished to implore pardon from the count and

countess for a great injury which he had done them. The people round

about him told him that was a trifle, and that he ought not to let it

embitter his last moments, but he begged so piteously that he got them

to promise that they should be sent for.

The count thought it was some trifling irregularity, some

misappropriation in the house accounts; and fearing to hasten the death

of the sufferer by the shame of the confession of a fault, he sent word

that he heartily forgave him, that he might die tranquil, and refused to

see him. Baulieu expired, taking his secret with him. This happened in

1648.

The child was then seven years old. His charming manners grew with his

age, and the count and countess felt their love for him increase. They

caused him to be taught dancing and fencing, put him into breeches and

hose, and a page's suit of their livery, in which capacity he served

them. The marquis turned his attack to this quarter. He was doubtless

preparing some plot as criminal as the preceding, when justice overtook

him for some other great crimes of which he had been guilty. He was

arrested one day in the street when conversing with one of the

Saint-Geran footmen, and taken to the Conciergerie of the Palace of

Justice.

Whether owing to these occurrences, or to grounds for suspicion before

mentioned, certain reports spread in the Bourbonnais embodying some of

the real facts; portions of them reached the ears of the count and

countess, but they had only the effect of renewing their grief without

furnishing a clue to the truth.

Meanwhile, the count went to take the waters at Vichy. The countess and

Madame de Bouille followed him, and there they chanced to encounter

Louise Goillard, the midwife. This woman renewed her acquaintance with

the house, and in particular often visited the Marchioness de Bouille.

One day the countess, unexpectedly entering the marchioness's room,

found them both conversing in an undertone. They stopped talking

immediately, and appeared disconcerted.

The countess noticed this without attaching any importance to it, and

asked the subject of their conversation.

"Oh, nothing," said the marchioness.

"But what is it?" insisted the countess, seeing that she blushed.

The marchioness, no longer able to evade the question, and feeling her

difficulties increase, replied--

"Dame Louise is praising my brother for bearing no ill-will to her."

"Why?" said the countess, turning to the midwife,--"why should you fear

any ill-will on the part of my husband?"

"I was afraid," said Louise Goillard awkwardly, "that he might have

taken a dislike to me on account of all that happened when you expected

to be confined."

The obscurity of these words and embarrassment of the two women produced

a lively effect upon the countess; but she controlled herself and let

the subject drop. Her agitation, however, did not escape the notice of

the marchioness, who the next day had horses put to her coach and

retired to hey estate of Lavoine. This clumsy proceeding strengthened

suspicion.

The first determination of the countess was to arrest Louise Goillard;

but she saw that in so serious a matter every step must be taken with

precaution. She consulted the count and the countess dowager. They

quietly summoned the midwife, to question her without any preliminaries.

She prevaricated and contradicted herself over and over again; moreover,

her state of terror alone sufficed to convict her of a crime. They

handed her over to the law, and the Count de Saint-Geran filed an

information before the vice-seneschal of Moulins.

The midwife underwent a first interrogatory. She confessed the truth of

the accouchement, but she added that the countess had given birth to a

still-born daughter, which she had buried under a stone near the step of

the barn in the back yard. The judge, accompanied by a physician and a

surgeon, repaired to the place, where he found neither stone, nor

foetus, nor any indications of an interment. They searched

unsuccessfully in other places.

When the dowager countess heard this statement, she demanded that this

horrible woman should be put on her trial. The civil lieutenant, in the

absence of the criminal lieutenant, commenced the proceedings.

In a second interrogation, Louise Goillard positively declared that the

countess had never been confined;

In a third, that she had been delivered of a mole;

In a fourth, that she had been confined of a male infant, which Baulieu

had carried away in a basket;

And in a fifth, in which she answered from the dock, she maintained that

her evidence of the countess's accouchement had been extorted from her

by violence. She made no charges against either Madame de Bouille or the

Marquis de Saint Maixent. On the other hand, no sooner was she under

lock and key than she despatched her son Guillemin to the marchioness to

inform her that she was arrested. The marchioness recognised how

threatening things were, and was in a state of consternation; she

immediately sent the sieur de la Foresterie, her steward, to the

lieutenant-general, her counsel, a mortal enemy of the count, that he

might advise her in this conjuncture, and suggest a means for helping

the matron without appearing openly in the matter. The lieutenant's

advice was to quash the proceedings and obtain an injunction against the

continuance of the preliminaries to the action. The marchioness spent a

large sum of money, and obtained this injunction; but it was immediately

reversed, and the bar to the suit removed.

La Foresterie was then ordered to pass to Riom, where the sisters Quinet

lived, and to bribe them heavily to secrecy. The elder one, on leaving

the marchioness's service, had shaken her fist in her face, feeling

secure with the secrets in her knowledge, and told her that she would

repent having dismissed her and her sister, and that she would make a

clean breast of the whole affair, even were she to be hung first. These

girls then sent word that they wished to enter her service again; that

the countess had promised them handsome terms if they would speak; and

that they had even been questioned in her name by a Capuchin superior,

but that they said nothing, in order to give time to prepare an answer

for them. The marchioness found herself obliged to take back the girls;

she kept the younger, and married the elder to Delisle, her house

steward. But la Foresterie, finding himself in this network of intrigue,

grew disgusted at serving such a mistress, and left her house. The

marchioness told him on his departure that if he were so indiscreet as

to repeat a word of what he had learned from the Quinet girls, she would

punish him with a hundred poniard stabs from her major-domo Delisle.

Having thus fortified her position, she thought herself secure against

any hostile steps; but it happened that a certain prudent Berger,

gentleman and page to the Marquis de Saint-Maixent, who enjoyed his

master's confidence and went to see him in the Conciergerie, where he

was imprisoned, threw some strange light on this affair. His master had

narrated to him all the particulars of the accouchement of the countess

and of the abduction of the child.

"I am astonished, my lord," replied the page, "that having so many

dangerous affairs on hand; you did not relieve your conscience of this

one."

"I intend," replied the marquis, "to restore this child to his father: I

have been ordered to do so by a Capuchin to whom I confessed having

carried off from the midst of the family, without their knowing it, a

grandson of a marshal of France and son of a governor of a province."

The marquis had at that time permission to go out from prison

occasionally on his parole. This will not surprise anyone acquainted

with the ideas which prevailed at that period on the honour of a

nobleman, even the greatest criminal. The marquis, profiting by this

facility, took the page to see a child of about seven years of age, fair

and with a beautiful countenance.

"Page," said he, "look well at this child, so that you may know him

again when I shall send you to inquire about him."

He then informed him that this was the Count de Saint-Geran's son whom

he had carried away.

Information of these matters coming to the ears of justice, decisive

proofs were hoped for; but this happened just when other criminal

informations were lodged against the marquis, which left him helpless to

prevent the exposure of his crimes. Police officers were despatched in

all haste to the Conciergerie; they were stopped by the gaolers, who

told them that the marquis, feeling ill, was engaged with a priest who

was administering the sacraments, to him. As they insisted on seeing

him; the warders approached the cell: the priest came out, crying that

persons must be sought to whom the sick man had a secret to reveal; that

he was in a desperate state, and said he had just poisoned himself; all

entered the cell.

M. de Saint-Maixent was writhing on a pallet, in a pitiable condition,

sometimes shrieking like a wild beast, sometimes stammering

disconnected words. All that the officers could hear was--

"Monsieur le Comte . . . call . . . the Countess . . . de Saint-Geran .

. . let them come. . . ." The officers earnestly begged him to try to be

more explicit.

The marquis had another fit; when he opened his eyes, he said--

"Send for the countess . . . let them forgive me . . . I wish to tell

them everything." The police officers asked him to speak; one even told

him that the count was there. The marquis feebly murmured--

"I am going to tell you----" Then he gave a loud cry and fell back dead.

It thus seemed as if fate took pains to close every mouth from which the

truth might escape. Still, this avowal of a deathbed revelation to be

made to the Count de Saint-Geran and the deposition of the priest who

had administered the last sacraments formed a strong link in the chain

of evidence.

The judge of first instruction, collecting all the information he had

got, made a report the weight of which was overwhelming. The carters,

the nurse, the domestic servants, all gave accounts consistent with each

other; the route and the various adventures of the child were plainly

detailed, from its birth till its arrival at the village of Descoutoux.

Justice, thus tracing crime to its sources, had no option but to issue a

warrant for the arrest of the Marchioness de Bouilie; but it seems

probable that it was not served owing to the strenuous efforts of the

Count de Saint-Geran, who could not bring himself to ruin his sister,

seeing that her dishonour would have been reflected on him. The

marchioness hid her remorse in solitude, and appeared again no more. She

died shortly after, carrying the weight of her secret till she drew her

last breath.

The judge of Moulins at length pronounced sentence on the midwife, whom

he declared arraigned and convicted of having suppressed the child born

to the countess; for which he condemned her to be tortured and then

hanged. The matron lodged an appeal against this sentence, and the case

was referred to the Conciergerie.

No sooner had the count and countess seen the successive proofs of the

procedure, than tenderness and natural feelings accomplished the rest.

They no longer doubted that their page was their son; they stripped him

at once of his livery and gave him his rank and prerogatives, under the

title of the Count de la Palice.

Meanwhile, a private person named Sequeville informed the countess that

he had made a very important discovery; that a child had been baptized

in 1642 at St. Jean-en-Greve, and that a woman named Marie Pigoreau had

taken a leading part in the affair. Thereupon inquiries were made, and

it was discovered that this child had been nursed in the village of

Torcy. The count obtained a warrant which enabled him to get evidence

before the judge of Torcy; nothing was left undone to elicit the whole

truth; he also obtained a warrant through which he obtained more

information, and published a monitory. The elder of the Quinet girls on

this told the Marquis de Canillac that the count was searching at a

distance for things very near him. The truth shone out with great lustre

through these new facts which gushed from all this fresh information.

The child, exhibited in the presence of a legal commissary to the nurses

and witnesses of Torcy, was identified, as much by the scars left by the

midwife's nails on his head, as by his fair hair and blue eyes. This

ineffaceable vestige of the woman's cruelty was the principal proof; the

witnesses testified that la Pigoreau, when she visited this child with a

man who appeared to be of condition, always asserted that he was the son

of a great nobleman who had been entrusted to her care, and that she

hoped he would make her fortune and that of those who had reared him.

The child's godfather, Paul Marmiou, a common labourer; the grocer

Raguenet, who had charge of the two thousand livres; the servant of la

Pigoreau, who had heard her say that the count was obliged to take this

child; the witnesses who proved that la Pigoreau had told them that the

child was too well born to wear a page's livery, all furnished

convincing proofs; but others were forthcoming.

It was at la Pigoreau's that the Marquis de Saint-Maixent, living then

at the hotel de Saint-Geran, went to see the child, kept in her house as

if it were hers; Prudent Berger, the marquis's page, perfectly well

remembered la Pigoreau, and also the child, whom he had seen at her

house and whose history the marquis had related to him. Finally, many

other witnesses heard in the course of the case, both before the three

chambers of nobles, clergy, and the tiers etat, and before the judges of

Torcy, Cusset, and other local magistrates, made the facts so clear and

conclusive in favour of the legitimacy of the young count, that it was

impossible to avoid impeaching the guilty parties. The count ordered the

summons in person of la Pigoreau, who had not been compromised in the

original preliminary proceedings. This drastic measure threw the

intriguing woman on her beam ends, but she strove hard to right herself.

The widowed Duchess de Ventadour, daughter by her mother's second

marriage of the Countess dowager of Saint-Geran, and half-sister of the

count, and the Countess de Lude, daughter of the Marchioness de Bouille,

from whom the young count carried away the Saint-Geran inheritance, were

very warm in the matter, and spoke of disputing the judgment. La

Pigoreau went to see them, and joined in concert with them.

Then commenced this famous lawsuit, which long occupied all France, and

is parallel in some respects, but not in the time occupied in the

hearing, to the case heard by Solomon, in which one child was claimed by

two mothers.

The Marquis de Saint-Maixent and Madame de Bouille being dead, were

naturally no parties to the suit, which was fought against the

Saint-Geran family by la Pigoreau and Mesdames du Lude and de Ventadour.

These ladies no doubt acted in good faith, at first at any rate, in

refusing to believe the crime; for if they had originally known the

truth it is incredible that they could have fought the case so long aid

so obstinately.

They first of all went to the aid of the midwife, who had fallen sick in

prison; they then consulted together, and resolved as follows:

That the accused should appeal against criminal proceedings;

That la Pigoreau should lodge a civil petition against the judgments

which ordered her arrest and the confronting of witnesses;

That they should appeal against the abuse of obtaining and publishing

monitories, and lodge an interpleader against the sentence of the judge

of first instruction, who had condemned the matron to capital

punishment;

And that finally, to carry the war into the enemy's camp, la Pigoreau

should impugn the maternity of the countess, claiming the child as her

own; and that the ladies should depose that the countess's accouchement

was an imposture invented to cause it to be supposed that she had given

birth to a child.

For more safety and apparent absence of collusion Mesdames du Lude and

de Ventadour pretended to have no communication with la Pigoreau.

About this time the midwife died in prison, from an illness which

vexation and remorse had aggravated. After her death, her son Guillemin

confessed that she had often told him that the countess had given birth

to a son whom Baulieu had carried off, and that the child entrusted to

Baulieu at the chateau Saint-Geran was the same as the one recovered;

the youth added that he had concealed this fact so long as it might

injure his mother, and he further stated that the ladies de Ventadour

and du Lude had helped her in prison with money and advice--another

strong piece of presumptive evidence.

The petitions of the accused and the interpleadings of Mesdames du Lude

and de Ventadour were discussed in seven hearings, before three courts

convened. The suit proceeded with all the languor and chicanery of the

period.

After long and specious arguments, the attorney general Bijnon gave his

decision in favour of the Count and Countess of Saint-Geran, concluding

thus:--

"The court rejects the civil appeal of la Pigoreau; and all the

opposition and appeals of the appellants and the defendants; condemns

them to fine and in costs; and seeing that the charges against la

Pigoreau were of a serious nature, and that a personal summons had been

decreed against her, orders her committal, recommending her to the

indulgence of the court."

By a judgment given in a sitting at the Tournelle by M. de Mesmes, on

the 18th of August 1657, the appellant ladies' and the defendants'

opposition was rejected with fine and costs. La Pigoreau was forbidden

to leave the city and suburbs of Paris under penalty of summary

conviction. The judgment in the case followed the rejection of the

appeal.

This reverse at first extinguished the litigation of Mesdames du Lude

and de Ventadour, but it soon revived more briskly than ever. These

ladies, who had taken la Pigoreau in their coach to all the hearings,

prompted her, in order to procrastinate, to file a fresh petition, in

which she demanded the confrontment of all the witnesses to the

pregnancy, and the confinement. On hearing this petition, the court gave

on the 28th of August 1658 a decree ordering the confrontment, but on

condition that for three days previously la Pigoreau should deliver

herself a prisoner in the Conciergerie.

This judgment, the consequences of which greatly alarmed la Pigoreau,

produced such an effect upon her that, after having weighed the interest

she had in the suit, which she would lose by flight, against the danger

to her life if she ventured her person into the hands of justice, she

abandoned her false plea of maternity, and took refuge abroad. This last

circumstance was a heavy blow to Mesdames du Lude and de Ventadour; but

they were not at the end of their resources and their obstinacy.

Contempt of court being decreed against la Pigoreau, and the case being

got up against the other defendants, the Count de Saint-Geran left for

the Bourbonnais, to put in execution the order to confront the

witnesses. Scarcely had he arrived in the province when he was obliged

to interrupt his work to receive the king and the queen mother, who were

returning from Lyons and passing through Moulins. He presented the Count

de la Palice to their Majesties as his son; they received him as such.

But during the visit of the king and queen the Count de Saint-Geran fell

ill, over fatigued, no doubt, by the trouble he had taken to give them a

suitable reception, over and above the worry of his own affairs.

During his illness, which only lasted a week, he made in his will a new

acknowledgment of his son, naming his executors M. de Barriere,

intendant of the province, and the sieur Vialet, treasurer of France,

desiring them to bring the lawsuit to an end. His last words were for

his wife and child; his only regret that he had not been able to

terminate this affair. He died on the 31st of January 1659.

The maternal tenderness of the countess did not need stimulating by the

injunctions of her husband, and she took up the suit with energy. The

ladies de Ventadour and du Lude obtained by default letters of

administration as heiresses without liability, which were granted out of

the Chatelet. At the same time they appealed against the judgment of the

lieutenant-general of the Bourbonnais, giving the tutelage of the young

count to the countess his mother, and his guardianship to sieur de

Bompre. The countess, on her side, interpleaded an appeal against the

granting of letters of administration without liability, and did all in

her power to bring back the case to the Tournelle. The other ladies

carried their appeal to the high court, pleading that they were not

parties to the lawsuit in the Tournelle.

It would serve no purpose to follow the obscure labyrinth of legal

procedure of that period, and to recite all the marches and

countermarches which legal subtlety suggested to the litigants. At the

end of three years, on the 9th of April 1661, the countess obtained a

judgment by which the king in person:

"Assuming to his own decision the civil suit pending at the

Tournelle, as well as the appeals pled by both parties, and the

last petition of Mesdames du Lude and de Ventadour, sends back

the whole case to the three assembled chambers of the States

General, to be by them decided on its merits either jointly or

separately, as they may deem fit."

The Countess of Saint Geran Celebrated Crimes · 第 3 / 4 段