“Madame de la Chanterie heard of this through a letter of farewell which her husband wrote to her. Instantly, giving her little girl to the care of a neighbor, she went to the town where that wretch was imprisoned, taking with her the few louis which were all that she owned. These louis enabled her to make her way into the prison. She succeeded in saving her husband by dressing him in her own clothes, under circumstances almost identical with those which, sometime later, were so serviceable to Madame de la Valette. She was condemned to death, but the government was ashamed to carry out the sentence; and the Revolutionary tribunal (the one over which her husband had formerly presided) connived at her escape. She returned to Paris on foot, without means, sleeping in farm buildings and fed by charity.”
“Good God!” cried Godefroid.
“Ah! wait,” said Monsieur Alain; “that is nothing. In eight years the poor woman saw her husband three times. The first time he stayed twenty-four hours in the humble lodging of his wife, and carried away with him all her money; having showered her with marks of tenderness and made her believe in his complete conversion. ‘I could not,’ she said, ‘refuse a husband for whom I prayed daily and of whom I thought exclusively.’ On the second occasion, Monsieur de la Chanterie arrived almost dying, and with what an illness! She nursed him and saved his life. Then she tried to bring him to better sentiments and a decent life. After promising all that angel asked, the jacobin plunged back into frightful profligacy, and finally escaped the hands of justice only by again taking refuge with his wife, in whose care he died in safety.
“Oh! but that is nothing!” cried the goodman, seeing the pain on Godefroid’s face. “No one, in the world in which he lived, had known he was a married man. Two years after his death Madame de la Chanterie discovered that a second Madame de la Chanterie existed, widowed like herself, and, like her, ruined. That bigamist had found two angels incapable of discarding him.
“Towards 1803,” resumed Alain after a pause, “Monsieur de Boisfrelon, uncle of Madame de la Chanterie, came to Paris, his name having been erased from the list of emigres, and brought Madame the sum of two hundred thousand francs which her father-in-law, the old purveyor, had formerly entrusted to him for the benefit of his son’s children. He persuaded the widow to return to Normandy; where she completed the education of her daughter and purchased on excellent terms and still by the advice of her uncle, a patrimonial estate.”
“Ah!” cried Godefroid.
“All that is still nothing,” said Monsieur Alain; “we have not yet reached the period of storms and darkness. I resume:
“In 1807, after four years of rest and peace, Madame de la Chanterie married her daughter to a gentleman of rank, whose piety, antecedents, and fortune offered every guarantee that could be given, – a man who, to use a popular saying, ‘was after every one’s own heart,’ in the best society of the provincial city where Madame and her daughter passed their winters. I should tell you that this society was composed of seven or eight families belonging to the highest nobility in France: d’Esgrignon, Troisville, Casteran, Nouatre, etc. At the end of eighteen months the baron deserted his wife, and disappeared in Paris, where he changed his name.
“Madame de la Chanterie never knew the causes of this desertion until the lightning of a dreadful storm revealed them. Her daughter, brought up with anxious care and trained in the purest religious sentiments, kept total silence as to her troubles. This lack of confidence in her mother was a painful blow to Madame de la Chanterie. Already she had several times noticed in her daughter indications of the reckless disposition of the father, increased in the daughter by an almost virile strength of will.
“The husband, however, abandoned his home of his own free will, leaving his affairs in a pitiable condition. Madame de la Chanterie is, even to this day, amazed at the catastrophe, which no human foresight could have prevented. The persons she prudently consulted before the marriage had assured her that the suitor’s fortune was clear and sound, and that no mortgages were on his estate. Nevertheless it appeared, after the husband’s departure, that for ten years his debts had exceeded the entire value of his property. Everything was therefore sold, and the poor young wife, now reduced to her own means, came back to her mother. Madame de la Chanterie knew later that the most honorable persons of the province had vouched for her son-in-law in their own interests; for he owed them all large sums of money, and they looked upon his marriage with Mademoiselle de la Chanterie as a means to recover them.
“There were, however, other reasons for this catastrophe, which you will find later in a confidential paper written for the eyes of the Emperor. Moreover, this man had long courted the good-will of the royalist families by his devotion to the royal cause during the Revolution. He was one of Louis XVIII.‘s most active emissaries, and had taken part after 1793 in all conspiracies, – escaping their penalties, however, with such singular adroitness that he came, in the end, to be distrusted. Thanked for his services by Louis XVIII., but completely set aside in the royalist affairs, he had returned to live on his property, now much encumbered with debt.
“These antecedents were then obscure (the persons initiated into the secrets of the royal closet kept silence about so dangerous a coadjutor), and he was therefore received with a species of reverence in a city devoted to the Bourbons, where the cruellest deeds of the Chouannerie were accepted as legitimate warfare. The d’Esgrignons, Casterans, the Chevalier de Valois, in short, the whole aristocracy and the Church opened their arms to this royalist diplomat and drew him into their circle. Their protection was encouraged by the desire of his creditors for the payment of his debts. For three years this man, who was a villain at heart, a pendant to the late Baron de la Chanterie, contrived to restrain his vices and assume the appearance of morality and religion.
“During the first months of his marriage he exerted a sort of spell over his wife; he tried to corrupt her mind by his doctrines (if it can be said that atheism is a doctrine) and by the jesting tone in which he spoke of sacred principles. From the time of his return to the provinces this political manoeuvrer had an intimacy with a young man, overwhelmed with debt like himself, but whose natural character was as frank and courageous as the baron’s was hypocritical and base. This frequent guest, whose accomplishments, strong character, and adventurous life were calculated to influence a young girl’s mind, was an instrument in the hands of the husband to bring the wife to adopt his theories. Never did she let her mother know the abyss into which her fate had cast her.
“We may well distrust all human prudence when we think of the infinite precautions taken by Madame de la Chanterie in marrying her only daughter. The blow, when it came to a life so devoted, so pure, so truly religious as that of a woman already tested by many trials, gave Madame de la Chanterie a distrust of herself which served to isolate her from her daughter; and all the more because her daughter, in compensation for her misfortunes, exacted complete liberty, ruled her mother, and was even, at times, unkind to her.
“Wounded thus in all her affections, mistaken in her devotion and love for her husband, to whom she had sacrificed without a word her happiness, her fortune, and her life; mistaken in the education exclusively religious which she had given to her daughter; mistaken in the confidence she had placed in others in the affair of her daughter’s marriage; and obtaining no justice from the heart in which she had sown none but noble sentiments, she united herself still more closely to God as the hand of trouble lay heavy upon her. She was indeed almost a nun; going daily to church, performing cloistral penances, and practising economy that she might have means to help the poor.
“Could there be, up to this point, a saintlier life or one more tried than that of this noble woman, so gentle under misfortune, so brave in danger, and always Christian?” said Monsieur Alain, appealing to Godefroid. “You know Madame now, – you know if she is wanting in sense, judgment, reflection; in fact, she has those qualities to the highest degree. Well! the misfortunes I have now told you, which might be said to make her life surpass all others in adversity, are as nothing to those that were still in store for this poor woman. But now let us concern ourselves exclusively with Madame de la Chanterie’s daughter,” said the old man, resuming his narrative.
“At eighteen years of age, the period of her marriage, Mademoiselle de la Chanterie was a young girl of delicate complexion, brown in tone with a brilliant color, graceful in shape, and very pretty. Above a forehead of great beauty was a mass of dark hair which harmonized with the brown eyes and the general gaiety of her expression. A certain daintiness of feature was misleading as to her true character and her almost virile decision. She had small hands and small feet; in fact, there was something fragile about her whole person which excluded the idea of vigor and determination. Having always lived beside her mother, she had a most perfect innocence of thought and behavior and a really remarkable piety. This young girl, like her mother, was fanatically attached to the Bourbons; she was therefore a bitter enemy to the Revolution, and regarded the dominion of Napoleon as a curse inflicted by Providence upon France in punishment of the crimes of 1793.
“The conformity of opinion on this subject between Madame de la Chanterie and her daughter, and the daughter’s suitor, was one of the determining reasons of the marriage.
“The friend of the husband had commanded a body of Chouans at the time that hostilities were renewed in 1799; and it seems that the baron’s object (Madame de la Chanterie’s son-in-law was a baron) in fostering the intimacy between his wife and his friend was to obtain, through her influence, certain succor from that friend.
“This requires a few words of explanation,” said Monsieur Alain, interrupting his narrative, “about an association which in those days made a great deal of noise. I mean the ‘Chauffeurs.‘2 Every province in the west of France was at that time more or less overrun with these ‘brigands,’ whose object was far less pillage than a resurrection of the royalist warfare. They profited, so it was said, by the great number of ‘refractories,’ – the name applied to those who evaded the conscription, which was at that time, as you probably know, enforced to actual abuse.
“Between Mortagne and Rennes, and even beyond, as far as the banks of the Loire, nocturnal expeditions were organized, which attacked, especially in Normandy, the holders of property bought from the National domain.3 These armed bands sent terror throughout those regions. I am not misleading you when I ask you to observe that in certain departments the action of the laws was for a long time paralyzed.
“These last echoes of the civil war made much less noise than you would imagine, accustomed as we are now to the frightful publicity given by the press to every trial, even the least important, whether political or individual. The system of the Imperial government was that of all absolute governments. The censor allowed nothing to be published in the matter of politics except accomplished facts, and those were travestied. If you will take the trouble to look through files of the ‘Moniteur’ and the other newspapers of that time, even those of the West, you will not find a word about the four or five criminal trials which cost the lives of sixty or eighty ‘brigands.’ The term brigands, applied during the revolutionary period to the Vendeans, Chouans, and all those who took up arms for the house of Bourbon, was afterwards continued judicially under the Empire against all royalists accused of plots. To some ardent and loyal natures the emperor and his government were the enemy; any form of warfare against them was legitimate. I am only explaining to you these opinions, not justifying them.
“Now,” he said, after one of those pauses which are necessary in such long narratives, “if you realize how these royalists, ruined by the civil war of 1793, were dominated by violent passions, and how some exceptional natures (like that of Madame de la Chanterie’s son-in-law and his friend) were eaten up with desires of all kinds, you may be able to understand how it was that the acts of brigandage which their political views justified when employed against the government in the service of the good cause, might in some cases be committed for personal ends.
“The younger of the two men had been for some time employed in collecting the scattered fragments of Chouannerie, and was holding them ready to act at an opportune moment. There came a terrible crisis in the Emperor’s career when, shut up in the island of Lobau, he seemed about to give way under the combined and simultaneous attack of England and Austria. This was the moment for the Chouan uprising; but just as it was about to take place, the victory of Wagram rendered the conspiracy in the provinces powerless.
“This expectation of exciting civil war in Brittany, La Vendee, and part of Normandy, coincided in time with the final wreck of the baron’s fortune; and this wreck, coming at this time, led him to undertake an expedition to capture funds of the government which he might apply to the liquidation of the claims upon his property. But his wife and friend refused to take part in applying to private interests the money taken by armed force from the Receiver’s offices and the couriers and post-carriages of the government, – money taken, as they thought, justifiably by the rules of war to pay the regiments of ‘refractories’ and Chouans, and purchase the arms and ammunition with which to equip them. At last, after an angry discussion in which the young leader, supported by the wife, positively refused to hand over to the husband a portion of the large sum of money which the young leader had seized for the benefit of the royal armies from the treasury of the West, the baron suddenly and mysteriously disappeared, to avoid arrest for debt, having no means left by which to ward it off. Poor Madame de la Chanterie was wholly ignorant of these facts; but even they are nothing to the plot still hidden behind these preliminary facts.
“It is too late to-night,” said Monsieur Alain, looking at his little clock, “to go on with my narrative, which would take me, in any case, a long time to finish in my own words. Old Bordin, my friend, whose management of the famous Simeuse case had won him much credit in the royalist party, and who pleaded in the well-known criminal affair called that of the Chauffeurs de Mortagne, gave me, after I was installed in this house, two legal papers relating to the terrible history of Madame de la Chanterie and her daughter. I kept them because Bordin died soon after, before I had a chance to return them. You shall read them. You will find the facts much more succinctly stated than I could state them. Those facts are so numerous that I should only lose myself in the details and confuse them, whereas in those papers you have them in a legal summary. To-morrow, if you come to me, I will finish telling you all that relates to Madame de la Chanterie; for you will then know the general facts so thoroughly that I can end the whole story in a few words.”
IX. THE LEGAL STATEMENT
Monsieur Alain placed the papers, yellowed by time, in Godefroid’s hand; the latter, bidding the old man good-night, carried them off to his room, where he read, before he slept, the following document: —
THE INDICTMENT
Court of Criminal and Special Justice for the Department of the Orne The attorney-general to the Imperial Court of Caen, appointed to fulfil his functions before the Special Criminal Court established by imperial decree under date September, 1809, and sitting at Alencon, states to the Imperial Court the following facts which have appeared under the above procedure.
The plot of a company of brigands, evidently long planned with consummate care, and connected with a scheme for inciting the Western departments to revolt, has shown itself in certain attempts against the private property of citizens, but more especially in an armed attack and robbery committed on the mail-coach which transported, May – , 18 – , the money in the treasury at Caen to the Treasury of France. This attack, which recalls the deplorable incidents of a civil war now happily extinguished, manifests a spirit of wickedness which the political passions of the present day do not justify.
Let us pass to the facts. The plot is complicated, the details are numerous. The investigation has lasted one year; but the evidence, which has followed the crime step by step, has thrown the clearest light on its preparation, execution, and results.
The conception of the plot was formed by one Charles-Amedee-Louis-Joseph Rifoel, calling himself Chevalier du Vissard, born at the Vissard, district of Saint-Mexme, near Ernee, and a former leader of the rebels.
This criminal, whom H.M. the Emperor and King pardoned at the time of the general pacification, and who has profited by the sovereign’s magnanimity to commit other crimes, has already paid on the scaffold the penalty of his many misdeeds; but it is necessary to recall some of his actions, because his influence was great on the guilty persons now before the court, and he is closely connected with the facts of his case.
This dangerous agitator, concealed, according to the usual custom of the rebels, under the name of Pierrot, went from place to place throughout the departments of the West gathering together the elements of rebellion; but his chief resort was the chateau of Saint-Savin, the residence of a Madame Lechantre and her daughter, a Madame Bryond, situated in the district of Saint-Savin, arrondissement of Mortagne. Several of the most horrible events of the rebellion of 1799 are connected with this strategic point. Here a bearer of despatches was murdered, his carriage pillaged by the brigands under command of a woman, assisted by the notorious Marche-a-Terre. Brigandage appeared to be endemic in that locality.
An intimacy, which we shall not attempt to characterize, existed for more than a year between the woman Bryond and the said Rifoel. It was in this district that an interview took place, in April, 1808, between Rifoel and a certain Boislaurier, a leader known by the name of August in the baneful rebellions of the West, who instigated the affair now before the court.
The somewhat obscure point of the relations between these two leaders is cleared up by the testimony of numerous witnesses, and also by the judgment of the court which condemned Rifoel. From that time Boislaurier had an understanding with Rifoel, and they acted in concert.
They communicated to each other, at first secretly, their infamous plans, encouraged by the absence of His Imperial and Royal Majesty with the armies in Spain. Their scheme was to obtain possession of the money of the Treasury as the fundamental basis of future operations.
Some time after this, one named Dubut, of Caen, sent an emissary to the chateau of Saint-Savin named Hiley – commonly called “The Laborer,” long known as a highwayman, a robber of diligences – to give information as to the men who could safely be relied upon. It was thus by means of Hiley that the plotters obtained, from the beginning, the co-operation of one Herbomez, otherwise called General Hardi, a former rebel of the same stamp as Rifoel, and like him faithless to his pledges under the amnesty.
Herbomez and Hiley recruited from the surrounding districts seven brigands whose names are: —
1. Jean Cibot, called Pille-Miche, one of the boldest brigands of the corps formed by Montauran in the year VII., and a participator in the attack upon the courier of Mortagne and his murder.
2. Francois Lisieux, called Grand-Fils, refractory of the department of the Mayenne.
3. Charles Grenier, called Fleur-de-Genet, deserter from the 69th brigade.
4. Gabriel Bruce, called Gros-Jean, one of the most ferocious Chouans of Fontaine’s division.
5. Jacques Horeau, called Stuart, ex-lieutenant in the same brigade, one of the confederates of Tinteniac, well-known for his participation in the expedition to Quiberon.
6. Marie-Anne Cabot, called Lajeunesse, former huntsman to the Sieur Carol of Alencon.
7. Louis Minard, refractory.
These confederates were lodged in three different districts, in the houses of the following named persons: Binet, Melin, and Laraviniere, innkeepers or publicans, and all devoted to Rifoel.
The necessary arms were supplied by one Jean-Francois Leveille, notary; an incorrigible assistant of the brigands, and their go-between with certain hidden leaders; also by one Felix Courceuil, commonly called Confesseur, former surgeon of the rebel armies of
La Vendee; both these men are from Alencon.
Eleven muskets were hidden in a house belonging to the Sieur Bryond in the faubourg of Alencon, where they were placed without his knowledge.
When the Sieur Bryond left his wife to pursue the fatal course she had chosen, these muskets, mysteriously taken from the said house, were transported by the woman Bryond in her own carriage to the chateau of Saint-Savin.
It was then that the acts of brigandage in the department of the Orne and the adjacent departments took place, – acts that amazed both the authorities and the inhabitants of those regions, which had long been entirely pacificated; acts, moreover, which proved that these odious enemies of the government and the French Empire were in the secret of the coalition of 1809 through communication with the royalist party in foreign countries.
The notary Leveille, the woman Bryond, Dubut of Caen, Herbomez of Mayenne, Boislaurier of Mans, and Rifoel, were therefore the heads of the association, which was composed of certain guilty persons already condemned to death and executed with Rifoel, certain others who are the accused persons at present under trial, and a number more who have escaped just punishment by flight or by the silence of their accomplices.
It was Dubut who, living near Caen, notified the notary Leveille when the government money contained in the local tax-office would be despatched to the Treasury.
We must remark here that after the time of the removal of the muskets, Leveille, who went to see Bruce, Grenier, and Cibot in the house of Melin, found them hiding the muskets in a shed on the premises, and himself assisted in the operation.
A general rendezvous was arranged to take place at Mortagne, in the hotel de l’Ecu de France. All the accused persons were present under various disguises. It was then that Leveille, the woman
Bryond, Dubut, Herbomez, Boislaurier and Hiley (the ablest of the secondary accomplices, as Cibot was the boldest) obtained the co-operation of one Vauthier, called Vieux-Chene, a former servant of the famous Longuy, and now hostler of the hotel. Vauthier agreed to notify the woman Bryond of the arrival and departure of the diligence bearing the government money, which always stopped for a time at the hotel.
The woman Bryond collected the scattered brigands at the chateau de Saint-Savin, a few miles from Mortagne, where she had lived with her mother since the separation from her husband. The brigands, with Hiley at their head, stayed at the chateau for several days. The woman Bryond, assisted by her maid Godard, prepared with her own hands the food of these men. She had already filled a loft with hay, and there the provisions were taken to them. While awaiting the arrival of the government money these brigands made nightly sorties from Saint-Savin, and the whole region was alarmed by their depredations. There is no doubt that the outrages committed at la Sartiniere, at Vonay, and at the chateau of Saint-Seny, were committed by this band, whose boldness equals their criminality, though they were able to so terrify their victims that the latter have kept silence, and the authorities have been unable to obtain any testimony from them.
While thus putting under contribution those persons in the neighborhood who had purchased lands of the National domain, these brigands carefully explored the forest of Chesnay which they selected as the theatre of their crime. Not far from this forest is the village of Louvigney. An inn is kept there by the brothers Chaussard, formerly game-keepers on the Troisville estate, which inn was made the final rendezvous of the brigands. These brothers knew beforehand the part they were to play in the affair. Courceuil and Boislaurier had long made overtures to them to revive their hatred against the government of our august Emperor, telling them that among the guests who would be sent to them would be certain men of their acquaintance, the dreaded Hiley and the not less dreaded Cibot.
Accordingly, on the 6th, the seven bandits, under Hiley, arrived at the inn of the brothers Chaussard, and there they spent two days. On the 8th Hiley led off his men, saying they were going to a palace about nine miles distant, and asking the brothers to send provisions for them to a certain fork in the road not far distant from the village. Hiley himself returned and slept at the inn.
Two persons on horseback, who were undoubtedly Rifoel and the woman Bryond (for it is stated that this woman accompanied Rifoel on these expeditions on horseback and dressed as a man), arrived during the evening and conversed with Hiley.
The next day Hiley wrote a letter to the notary Leveille, which one of the Chaussard brothers took to the latter, bringing back his answer.
Two hours later Rifoel and the woman Bryond returned and had an interview with Hiley.
It was then found necessary to obtain an axe to open, as we shall see, the cases containing the money. The notary went with the woman Bryond to Saint-Savin, where they searched in vain for an axe. The notary returned alone; half way back he met Hiley, to whom he stated that they could not obtain an axe.
Hiley returned to the inn, where he ordered supper for ten persons; seven of them being the brigands, who had now returned, fully armed. Hiley made them stack their arms in the military manner. They then sat down to table and supped in haste. Hiley ordered provisions prepared to take away with him. Then he took the elder Chaussard aside and asked him for an axe. The innkeeper who, if we believe him, was surprised, refused to give one. Courceuil and Boislaurier arrived; the night wore on; the three men walked the floor of their room discussing the plot. Courceuil, called “Confesseur,” the most wily of the party, obtained an axe; and about two in the morning they all went away by different paths.
Every moment was of value; the execution of the crime was fixed for that night. Hiley, Courceuil, and Boislaurier led and placed their men. Hiley hid in ambush with Minard, Cabot, and Bruce at the right of the Chesnay forest; Boislaurier, Grenier, and Horeau took the centre; Courceuil, Herbomez, and Lisieux occupied the ravine to the left of the wood. All these positions are indicated on the ground-plan drawn by the engineer of the government survey-office, which is here subjoined.
The diligence, which had left Mortagne about one in the morning, was driven by one Rousseau, whose conduct proved so suspicious that his arrest was judged necessary. The vehicle, driven slowly, would arrive about three o’clock in the forest of Chesnay. A single gendarme accompanied the diligence, which would stop for breakfast at Donnery. Three passengers only were making the trip, and were now walking up the hill with the gendarme.
The driver, who had driven very slowly to the bridge of Chesnay at the entrance of the wood, now hastened his horses with a vigor and eagerness remarked by the passengers, and turned into a cross-road, called the road of Senzey. The carriage was thus out of sight; and the gendarme with the three young men were hurrying to overtake it when they heard a shout: “Halt!” and four shots were fired at them. The gendarme, who was not hit, drew his sabre and rushed in the direction of the vehicle. He was stopped by four armed men, who fired at him; his eagerness saved him, for he ran toward one of the three passengers to tell him to make for Chesnay and ring the tocsin. But two brigands followed him, and one of them, taking aim, sent a ball through his left shoulder, which broke his arm, and he fell helpless.
The shouts and firing were heard in Donnery. A corporal stationed there and one gendarme ran toward the sounds. The firing of a squad of men took them to the opposite side of the wood to that where the pillage was taking place. The noise of the firing prevented the corporal from hearing the cries of the wounded gendarme; but he did distinguish a sound which proved to be that of an axe breaking and chopping into cases. He ran toward the sound. Meeting four armed bandits, he called out to them, “Surrender, villains!”
They replied: “Stay where you are, or you are a dead man!” The corporal sprang forward; two shots were fired and one struck him; a ball went through his left leg and into the flank of his horse. The brave man, bathed in blood, was forced to give up the unequal fight; he shouted “Help! the brigands are at Chesnay!” but all in
vain.
The robbers, masters of the ground thanks to their numbers, ransacked the coach. They had gagged and bound the driver by way of deception. The cases were opened, the bags of money were thrown out; the horses were unharnessed and the silver and gold loaded on their backs. Three thousand francs in copper were rejected; but a sum in other coin of one hundred and three thousand francs was safely carried off on the four horses.
The brigands took the road to the hamlet of Menneville, which is close to Saint-Savin. They stopped with their plunder at an isolated house belonging to the Chaussard brothers, where the Chaussards’ uncle, one Bourget, lived, who was knowing to the whole plot from its inception. This old man, aided by his wife, welcomed the brigands, charged them to make no noise, unloaded the bags of money, and gave the men something to drink. The wife performed the part of sentinel. The old man then took the horses through the wood, returned them to the driver, unbound the latter, and also the young men, who had been garotted. After resting for a time, Courceuil, Hiley, and Boislaurier paid their men a paltry sum for their trouble, and the whole band departed, leaving the plunder in charge of Bourget.
When they reached a lonely place called Champ-Landry, these criminals, obeying the impulse which leads all malefactors into the blunders and miscalculations of crime, threw their guns into a wheat-field. This action, done by all of them, is a proof of their mutual understanding. Struck with terror at the boldness of their act, and even by its success, they dispersed.
The robbery now having been committed, with the additional features of assault and assassination, other facts and other actors appear, all connected with the robbery itself and with the disposition of the plunder.
Rifoel, concealed in Paris, whence he pulled every wire of the plot, transmits to Leveille an order to send him instantly fifty thousand francs.
Courceuil, knowing to all the facts, sends Hiley to tell Leveille of the success of the attempt, and say that he will meet him at Mortagne. Leveille goes there.
Vauthier, on whose fidelity they think they can rely, agrees to go to Bourget, the uncle of the Chaussards, in whose care the money was left, and ask for the booty. The old man tells Vauthier that he must go to his nephews, who have taken large sums to the woman Bryond. But he orders him to wait outside in the road, and brings him a bag containing the small sum of twelve hundred francs, which Vauthier delivers to the woman Lechantre for her daughter.
At Leveille’s request, Vauthier returns to Bourget, who this time sends for his nephews. The elder Chaussard takes Vauthier to the wood, shows him a tree, and there they find a bag of one thousand francs buried in the earth. Leveille, Hiley, and Vauthier make other trips, obtaining only trifling sums compared with the large sum known to have been captured.
The woman Lechantre receives these sums at Mortagne; and, on receipt of a letter from her daughter, removes them to Saint-Savin, where the woman Bryond now returns.
This is not the moment to examine as to whether the woman Lechantre had any anterior knowledge of the plot.
It suffices here to note that this woman left Mortagne to go to Saint-Savin the evening before the crime; that after the crime she met her daughter on the high-road, and they both returned to Mortagne; that on the following day Leveille, informed by Hiley of the success of the plot, goes from Alencon to Mortagne, and there visits the two women; later he persuades them to deposit the sums obtained with such difficulty from the Chaussards and Bourget in a house in Alencon, of which we shall speak presently, – that of the Sieur Pannier, merchant.
The woman Lechantre writes to the bailiff at Saint-Savin to come and drive her and her daughter by the cross-roads towards Alencon. The funds now in their possession amount to twenty thousand francs; these the girl Godard puts into the carriage at night.
The notary Leveille had given exact instructions. The two women reach Alencon and stop at the house of a confederate, one Louis Chargegrain, in the Littray district. Despite all the precautions of the notary, who came there to meet the women, witnesses were at hand who saw the portmanteaux and bags containing the money taken from the carriole.
At the moment when Courceuil and Hiley, disguised as women, were consulting in the square at Alencon with the Sieur Pannier (treasurer of the rebels since 1794, and devoted to Rifoel) as to the best means of conveying to Rifoel the sum he asked for, the woman Lechantre became alarmed on hearing at the inn where she stopped of the suspicions and arrests already made. She fled during the night, taking her daughter with her through the byways and cross-roads to Saint-Savin, in order to take refuge, if necessary, in certain hiding-places prepared at the chateau de Saint-Savin. Courceuil, Boislaurier, and his relation Dubut, clandestinely changed two thousand francs in silver money for gold, and fled to Brittany and England.
On arriving at Saint-Savin, the women Lechantre and Bryond heard of the arrest of Bourget, that of the driver of the diligence, and that of the two refractories. The magistrates and the gendarmerie struck such sure blows that it was thought advisable to place the woman Bryond beyond the reach of human justice; for she appears to have been an object of great devotion on the part of these criminals, who were captivated by her. She left Saint-Savin, and was hidden at first in Alencon, where her followers deliberated, and finally placed her in the cellar of Pannier’s house.
Here new incidents develop themselves.
After the arrest of Bourget and his wife, the Chaussards refuse to give up any more of the money, declaring themselves betrayed. This unexpected refusal was given at a moment when an urgent want of money was felt among the accomplices, if only for the purposes of escape. Rifoel was always clamorous for money. Hiley, Cibot, and Leveille began to suspect the Chaussards.
Here comes in a new incident, which calls for the rigor of the law.
Two gendarmes, detailed to discover the woman Bryond, succeeded in tracking her to Pannier’s. There a discussion is held; and these men, unworthy of the trust reposed in them, instead of arresting the woman Bryond, succumb to her seductions. These unworthy soldiers, named Ratel and Mallet, showed this woman the utmost interest and offered to take her to the Chaussards and force them to make restitution.
The woman Bryond starts on horseback, disguised as a man, accompanied by Ratel, Mallet, and the girl Godard. She makes the journey by night. She has a conference alone with one of the brothers Chaussard, an excited conference. She is armed with a pistol, and threatens to blow out the brains of her accomplice if he refuses the money. Then he goes with her into the forest, and they return with a heavy bag of coin. In the bag are copper coins and twelve-sous silver pieces to the amount of fifteen hundred francs.
When the woman Bryond returns to Alencon the accomplices propose to go in a body to the Chaussards’ house and torture them until they deliver up the whole sum.
When Pannier hears of this failure he is furious. He threatens. The woman Bryond, though threatening him in return with Rifoel’s wrath, is forced to fly.
These facts rest on the confession of Ratel.
Mallet, pitying the woman Bryond’s position, offers her an asylum. Then Mallet and Ratel, accompanied by Hiley and Cibot, go at night to the brothers Chaussard; this time they find these brothers have left the place and have taken the rest of the money with them.
This was the last effort of the accomplices to recover the proceeds of the robbery.
It now becomes necessary to show the exact part taken by each of the actors in this crime.
Dubut, Boislaurier, Herbomez, Courceuil, and Hiley were the ringleaders. Some deliberated and planned, others acted. Boislaurier, Dubut, and Courceuil, all three fugitives from justice and outlawed, are addicted to rebellion, fomenters of trouble, implacable enemies of Napoleon the Great, his victories, his dynasty, and his government, haters of our new laws and of the constitution of the Empire.
Herbomez and Hiley audaciously executed that which the three former planned.
The guilt of the seven instruments of the crime, namely, Cibot, Lisieux, Grenier, Bruce, Horeau, Cabot, and Minard, is evident; it appears from the confessions of those of them who are now in the hands of justice; Lisieux died during the investigation, and Bruce has fled the country.
The conduct of Rousseau, who drove the coach, marks him as an accomplice. His slow method of driving, his haste at the entrance of the wood, his persistent declaration that his head was covered, whereas the passengers testify that the leader of the brigands told him to take the handkerchief off his head and recognize them; all these facts are strong presumptive evidence of collusion.
As for the woman Bryond and the notary Leveille, could any co-operation be more connected, more continuous than theirs? They repeatedly furnished means for the crime; they were privy to it, and they abetted it. Leveille travelled constantly. The woman Bryond invented scheme after scheme; she risked all, even her life, to recover the plunder. She lent her house, her carriage; her hand is seen in the plot from the beginning; she did not dissuade the chief leader of all, Rifoel, since executed, although through her guilty influence upon him she might have done so. She made her waiting-woman, the girl Godard, an accomplice. As for Leveille, he took an active part in the actual perpetration of the crime by seeking the axe the brigands asked for.
The woman Bourget, Vauthier, the Chaussards, Pannier, the woman Lechantre, Mallet and Ratel, all participated in the crime in their several degrees, as did the innkeepers Melin, Binet, Laraviniere, and Chargegrain.
Bourget has died during the investigation, after making a confession which removes all doubt as to the part played by Vauthier and the woman Bryond; if he attempted to extenuate that of his wife and his nephews Chaussard, his motives are easy to understand.
The Chaussards knowingly fed and lodged the brigands, they saw them armed, they witnessed all their arrangements and knew the object of them; and lastly, they received the plunder, which they hid, and as it appears, stole from their accomplices.
Pannier, the former treasurer of the rebels, concealed the woman Bryond in his house; he is one of the most dangerous accomplices of this crime, which he knew from its inception. In him certain mysterious relations which are still obscure took their rise; the authorities now have these matters under investigation. Pannier was the right hand of Rifoel, the depositary of the secrets of the counter-revolutionary party of the West; he regretted that Rifoel introduced women into the plot and confided in them; it was he who received the stolen money from the woman Bryond and conveyed it to Rifoel.
As for the conduct of the two gendarmes Ratel and Mallet, it deserves the severest penalty of the law. They betrayed their duty. One of them, foreseeing his fate, committed suicide, but not until he had made important revelations. The other, Mallet, denies nothing, his tacit admissions preclude all doubt, especially as to the guilt of the woman Bryond.
The woman Lechantre, in spite of her constant denials, was privy to all. The hypocrisy of this woman, who attempts to shelter her assumed innocence under the mask of a false piety, has certain antecedents which prove her decision of character and her intrepidity in extreme cases. She alleges that she was misled by her daughter, and believed that the plundered money belonged to the Sieur Bryond, – a common excuse! If the Sieur Bryond had possessed any property, he would not have left the department on account of his debts. The woman Lechantre claims that she did not suspect a shameful theft, because she saw the proceedings approved by her ally, Boislaurier. But how does she explain the presence of Rifoel (already executed) at Saint-Savin; the journeys to and fro; the relations of that young man with her daughter; the stay of the brigands at Saint-Savin, where they were served by her daughter and the girl Godard? She alleges sleep; declares it to be her practice to go to bed at seven in the evening; and has no answer to make when the magistrate points out to her that if she rises, as she says she does, at dawn, she must have seen some signs of the plot, of the sojourn of so many persons, and of the nocturnal goings and comings of her daughter. To this she replies that she was occupied in prayer. This woman is a mass of hypocrisy. Lastly, her journey on the day of the crime, the care she takes to carry her daughter to Mortagne, her conduct about the money, her precipitate flight when all is discovered, the pains she is at to conceal herself, even the circumstances of her arrest, all go to prove a long-existing complicity. She has not acted like a mother who desires to save her daughter and withdraw her from danger, but like a trembling accomplice. And her complicity is not that of a misguided tenderness; it is the fruit of party spirit, the inspiration of a well-known hatred against the government of His Imperial and Royal Majesty. Misguided maternal tenderness, if that could be fairly alleged in her defence, would not, however, excuse it; and we must not forget that consentment, long-standing and premeditated, is the surest sign of guilt.
Thus all the elements of the crime and the persons committing it are fully brought to light.
We see the madness of faction combining with pillage and greed; we see assassination advised by party spirit, under whose aegis these criminals attempt to justify themselves for the basest crimes. The leaders give the signal for the pillage of the public money, which money is to be used for their ulterior crimes; vile stipendiaries do this work for a paltry price, not recoiling from murder; then the fomenters of rebellion, not less guilty because their own hands have neither robbed nor murdered, divide the booty and dispose of it. What community can tolerate such outrages? The law itself is scarcely rigorous enough to duly punish them.
It is upon the above facts that this Court of Criminal and Special Justice is called upon to decide whether the prisoners Herbomez, Hiley, Cibot, Grenier, Horeau, Cabot, Minard, Melin, Binet, Laraviniere, Rousseau, the woman Bryond, Leveille, the woman Bourget, Vauthier, Chaussard the elder, Pannier, the widow Lechantre, Mallet, all herein named and described, and arraigned before this court; also Boislaurier, Dubut, Courceuil, Bruce, the younger Chaussard, Chargegrain, and the girl Godard, – these latter being absent and fugitives from justice, – are or are not guilty of the crimes charged in this indictment.
Done at Caen, this 1st of December, 180-.
(Signed) Baron Bourlac, Attorney-General.