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M E M O I R S
OF
VIDOCQ,
--
PRINCIPAL AGENT OF THIE FRENCHI POLICE
UNTIL 1827 :
AND Now PRoPRIEToR oF
THE PAPER MANUFACTORY AT ST
MANDÉ.
WRITTEN BY HIMSELF.
TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCHI.
* Le plus grand fleau est l'homme qui provoque. Quand il n'y a
point de provocateurs ce sont les forts qui commettent les crîmes,
parceque ce ne sont que les forts qui les conçoivent. En pôlice, il
vaut mieux ne pas faire d'affaire que d'en créer.*
MEMoIREs, VoL. I. ·
IN FOUR VOLUMES.
VOL, I.
LONDON, 1828 :
pRINTED FOR HUNT AND CLARKE,
YoRk sTRE ET, covENT GARDEN.


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iii/“2
INTRODUCTION.

To attempt an analysis of the Memoirs now
laid before the public would be utterly impossi-
. ‘ ble, so romantic are the narratives, so thrilling
the horrors, so powerful the descriptions, so
continuous the thread of its history.- As a piece
of Autobiography, it has many and singular
characteristics, which stamp it at once as one of
' the most interesting and peculiar narratives ever
“ILL-“Dbl!” (614%,, ,,\_\
penned, replete with astonishing incident and
instructive moral. In these days, when the
band of improvement, so called, (God save
the mark!) macadamizes the hoary relics of
antiquity to smoothen the path along which
ciyilization progresses; when the age of chivalry
is gone; and daring deeds and adventurous


vi INTRODUCTION. ' \
exploits are superseded by mere common-places
and matter-of-fact details; it is a thing of mar-
,vel to read the incidents of a life soI full of
romance, so teeming with the wild and wonder-
ful. To the light reader, who but skims over
the surface of a book, and enjoys the tale merely
as one of passing amusement, forgotten soon
as read, these Memoirs offer all that the most
‘Ifastidious can desire of the piquant and attrac-
tive: to the reﬂective reader, who, not content
with the mere detail of events, inquires into
causes, searches out motives, and philosophizes,
en passant, on the wit or weakness, power or
puerility, of the human mind, herein will be found
ample scope and verge enough for his most
s meditative musings.
\ As awork of ﬁction, it would be said, and
with apparent justice, that the Author had drawn
too largely on his inventive powers, that he had
exceeded the bounds of possibility, and set no
limits to the excursions of his fancy; but “
vrai n’est pas toujours le vraisemblable ,-” and inde-
pendently of the assertions of Vidocq himself
as to the veracity of his Memoirs, we have other


INTRODUCTION. vii
powerful inducements to credit his statements.
Many of the persons whom he has handled with
severity, and spoken of in no very measured
terms, are still living, and would doubtless be
too happy to refute the charges alleged, did
not truth forbid denial. Of his wonderful and
A multiplied escapes from “ durance vile,” we are
equally assured, as no man in his senses would
give ﬁctitious descriptions of what could be
readily disproved if false; and a similar.argu-
ment may be applied to other seemingly over-
wrought narrations; but so many of them tell
against our hero, that their truth cannot be
impugned. Perhaps no man ll! his time ever
assumed so many parts in life’s drama, and so
frequently on the very shortest possible notice,
as EUGENE FRANgors VIDOCQ. But too early
initiated in deception, he soon became an adept
in dissimulation, and expert in disguising his
person or his intentions. Endued with a mind
powerful but perverted, a temper careless but
impetuous, and feelings kindly but irritable, he,
by the early association with depraved compa-
nions, rendered himself; by one false step,


viii lxrnonucrron.‘
induced by a too ready compliance, an outcast,
excluded from the pale of orderly society, and
condemned to herd with the very refuse of
mankind. Much may be urged in his defence,
who, suffering under the penalty of a sentence,
the result of perjured evidence, sought to escape
the contamination which beset him in the re-.
cesses of his prison only to establish himself
respectably; who, having lost caste amongst
his fellow citizens, sought eagerly the means of
re-instatement. But no sooner were respectable
connexions formed, credit established, affections
nourished, or hopes entertained, than some for-
tuitous and evil occurrence dashed the cup of
anticipated happiness and security from his lips,
leaving but the bitterness of the dregs to swal-
low, and_ thus again was he
7 Like ocean weed uptorn,
And loose along the world of waters borne;
Thus cast companionless from wave to wave
On life’s rough sea.
With a mind not naturally vicious, he was
again and again condemned to mate with the
most abandoned; with feelings not callous, he


INTRODUCTION. ix
was compelled to harbour with the most har-
dened; with a yearning after a life of honest la-
bour, he was coupled with villains whose conduct
was one tissue of impious blasphemy, atrocious
rascality, and unutterable bestiality. To escape
this there was but one only course open to him,
'and that he adopted. He offered his services to
the police, who, aware of his talent, acuteness,
activity, and courage, accepted his proferred aid.
This did not result from a fear of danger or a
spirit of treachery; the urgent motives that led
Vrnoco to this measure, were the desire of avoid-
ing the perpetual contact with the vile scum with
with whom his lot was cast, and the knowledge
that he could beneﬁt his country, and thus pay
recompense for past misconduct. Above all he
could then enjoy liberty and have before him the
encouraging prospect of a re-instatement in so-
ciety, which, lost to him by one early and preci-
pitous step, was to be recovered by years of
suﬂ'ering and daring, open oblOQuy and secret
approval. Much was ventured, for much was
to be achieved.
We shall give a brief narrative of our hero,


X INTRODUCTION.
and leave our readers to form their own decision
on his eventful life.
Eucnnn Fnanqors Vmocq was a native of
Arras, where his father was a baker : and from
early associations he fell into courses of excess
which led to the necessity of his ﬂying from the
paternal roof. After various, rapid, and unex-
ampled events'in the romance of real life, in
which he was everything by turns and nothing
long, he was liberated from prison, and became
the principal and most active agent of police.
He was made Chief of the Police de Sureté
under Messrs Delavau and Franchet, and con-
tinued in that capacity from the year 1810 till
1827, during which period he extirpated the
most formidable of those ruﬂians and villains to
whom the excesses of the revolution and subse-
quent events had given full scope for the perpe-
tration of the most daring robberies and iniqui-
tous excesses. Removed from employment,
in which he had accumulated a handsome inde-
pendence, he could not determine on leading a
life of ease, for which his career of perpetual vigi-
lance and adventure had unﬁtted him, and he built


rs'rnonuc'rron. xi
a paper-manufactory at St Mandé, about two
leagues from Paris, where he employs from forty
to ﬁfty persons,—principally, it is asserted, libe-
rated convicts, who having passed through the
term of their sentence, are cast upon society
without home, shelter, or character, and would
be compelled to resort to dishonest practices did
not this asylum oﬂ‘er them its protection and af-
ford them opportunity of earning an honest living
by industrious labour.
One additional point of interest in the present
volumes is, that the author is still living. The
criticism on autobiography falls harmless when
the hand that penned it is mouldering with its
kindred dust; and in the present instance the
shafts of severe comment will be blunted on the
shield of candid and cOntrite avowal.


PREFACE.
VIDOCQ TO THE READER.
IT was in the month of January 1828, that I
ﬁnished these Memoirs, of which it was my wish
to direct the publication personally. Unfortu-
nately, in the month of February I broke my
right arm; and as it was fractured in ﬁve places,
it was thought that amputation must ensue.
For more than six weeks my life was in danger,
and l was in the most racking agonies. In this
distressing situation I was scarcely in condition
to re-write my manuscript, and give it the
ﬁnishing touches: but I had sold it, and the
bookseller was anxious to publish, and offered
me a reviser. Deceived by the recommendation
of a writer well spoken of in the literary world,
_to perform a work, which under no other cir-
cumstances would I have trusted to other hands,
he introduced to me one of those pretended men
of letters, whose excessive impudencei conceals
their stupidity, and who had no other object in
view than to make money. This pretended
literatus boasted so much of his bindividual


xiv PREFACE.
merits, that I was somewhat suspicious; but he
was backed by so respectable an introduction,
that Irejected all suspicion as unjust, and
agreed to avail myself of his aid until I was
convalescent. This worthy ran over the manu-
script; aud, after a superﬁcial glance to show his
ability, he declared, according to custom, that
there was a great deal to revise and correct.
The bookseller also, according to custom, be-
lieved his assertion, and I was persuaded of this
truth also; and, like so many others who do not
boast of it, I had got hold of a botcher.
Certainly there was much to alter in my
style: [knew nothing of the forms of literary
style, but yet I had some method; I knew that
tautology was to be avoided: and if I was not
so good a grammarian as Vaugelas, either by
intuitiveness or by habit, I could always avoid
bad orthography. Vidocq writing at all cor-
rectly was perhaps an unlikelihood in the eyes
of my censor, I know not, but this is the
case :-
In July last, I went to Douai, to get a con-
ﬁrmation of the pardon granted me in 1818,
and on my return I asked for the printed proofs
of my Memoirs; and as my restoration tosthe
rights of a citizen did not allow of my fearing
any arbitrary injunctions from the authorities,
I had proposed revising my manuscript, and
including all relative to the police, so as to
complete the information till then kept back.
What was my astonishment when, on reading
the ﬁrst volume and part of the second, I found
that my compilation had been entirely altered;


' runner. xv
and that, instead of a narrative developing per-
petually the sallies, vivacity, and energy of my
character, another had been foisted in, totally
deprived of all life, colouring, or promptitude.
With few alterations, the facts were nearly the
same; but all that was casual, involuntary, and
spontaneous, in a turbulent career, was given as
the long premeditation of evil intent. The
necessity that impelled me was altogether passed
over; I was made the scoundrel of the age, or
rather a Compere Mathieu, without one redeem-
ing point of sensibility, conscience, remorse, or
repentance. To crown my disgrace, the only
motives that can justify some avowals of a
candour somewhat uncommon, were not allowed
to appear; I was only a shameless villain, who
unblushingly united with the immorality of some
of~ his actions the desire of narrating them. To
lessen me still more, a language was attributed
to me of the most puerile sort. I really felt
myself humiliated with the details which the
press had produced, and which 1 should certainly
have obliterated, had Inot relied on the revision
of a man of judgment. I was shocked at the
multitude of vicious conversations, long circum-
locution, and prolix phrases, in which the ear,
good sense, and syntax, were equally offended.
I could not conceive how, with the total deﬁ-
ciency of talent, any person could assume the
title of a literary man. But suspicions quickly
arose, and in the suppression of certain names,
which I was surprised not to ﬁnd (that of my
successor, Coco-Lacour, for instance), I thought
I could trace the ﬁnger of the retired police, and


xvi PREFACE.
the traces of a_transaction which my bookseller
and myself had no wish should appear. Appa—
rently, Delavau and Franchet, informed of my
sad accident, which precluded me from super-
intending a publication which must disquiet them,
had proﬁted by the circumstance, to garble my
Memoirs in such a way as to paralyze before-
hand the eﬁ'ect of those discoveries on which
they would have little cause for self~gratulation. .
All conjecture was fair: and I could only accuse
the incapacity of my reviser ; and as without vanity,
I was more satisﬁed with my own prose than his,
I begged him to terminate his labours.
It would seem that he had no 0bjection,—but
could he leave his post? He stated his bargain,
and the commencement of his labours, by virtue
of which he assumed a privilege of mutilating me
at his pleasure, and to do what he pleased with
me as long as he chose, if he received his “ con-
sideration.” I had a much greater right to ask
him for damages and recompense; but where
there is neither cash nor honesty, what avails
any demand of this nature? To lose no time in
useless debate, I had back my manuscript, and
payed its ransom under certain reservations,
which I kept “ in petto.”
From this moment, I determined to destroy
the pages in which my life and various adven-
tures were mentioned without apology. A com-
plete destruction was the surest method of over-
turning an intrigue, of which the plot was easily
decyphered; but the ﬁrst volume was ready,
and the second far advanced. A total suppres-
sion would have been too considerable a sacriﬁce


PREFACE. xvii '
for the bookseller; and, on the other hand, by a
culpable breach of conﬁdence, thepirate traf-
ﬁcking in a fraudulent manner, sold my Memoirs
in London; and, inserted by extracts in the news-
papers, they soon reached Paris, where they were
given as translations. The theft was audacious;
I do not hesitate to point out the author. I
might prosecute him; his deeds shall not go un-
punished. In the meantime, I thought it best to
publish with all speed, to secure the bookseller,
and that he might not be anticipated by a rob-
bery unheard of in the literary world. Such an
inducement was necessary to urge me to sacriﬁce
all personal feeling: and it is because the con-
sideration has been all powerful with me, that,
contrary to my own interest and to satisfy the
public impatience, I accept now as my own, a
production which, at ﬁrst, I would have rejected.
In this text all is true; only the truth, as far as
regards me, is told with too little carefulness,
and without any of those precautions which a
general confession requires, and by which every
one will pass judgment on me. The principal
defect is in a too careless disposition, for which
I alone can complain. Some alterations have
appeared indispensable, and I have made them.
This explains the difference of tone which may
be observed in comparing some parts of these
Memoirs; but after my entering amongst the
corsairs at Boulogne, it will be perceived that I
have no longer an interpreter; no one has thence\
meddled or shall hereafter meddle with the task
I have imposed on myself, of unfolding to the
public all that can interest them. I speak, and
b 2


xviii PREFACE.
will speak, without reserve, without restriction,
and with all the frankness of a man who has no
longer cause for fear; and who, at last restored
to the fulness of those rights of which he was
unjustly deprived, aspires to the fullest exercise
of them. If any doubts be created as to the
reality of this intention, it is only necessary to
refer my reader to the last chapter of my second
volume, when he will have ample proof that
I have the will and the power of keeping my
word.


CONTENTS.
CHAPTER L
Page
My birth—Precocious disposition—I become a journey-
man baker—The ﬁrst theft—The false key—The ac-
cusing fowls—The stolen plate—Prison—Maternal
clemency—My father's e es opened—The ﬁnishing
stroke—Departure from rras—I seek a ship—The
ship broken—The dangerof idleness—The trumpet calls
—M. Comus, ﬁrst physician in the world—The pre-
ceptor of general J aquot—The rope~dancers—I enter
the company—Lessonsof the Little Devil—The savage
of the South Seas—Punch and the Theatre of Amu-
sing Varieties—A scene of jealousy, or the serjeant in
the eye—I go into the service of a quack doctor—
Return to my father’s house-Acquaintance with an
actress—Another chace—My departure in a regiment
——The rash companion—Desertion—The raw Picardy
soldier and the assignats—I go over to the enemy—A
ﬂogging—I return to my old standard—A domestic
robbery, and the housekeeper of an old worthy—Two
duels a day—I am wounded—My father a public
functionary—I join the war—Change of regi’ment—
Residence at Arras.. .. ............ nun...“- l
CHAPTE R I L
Joseph Lebon—The orchestra of the guillotine, and the
reading of thebulletin—The aristocrat parrot—Citi-~
zeness Lebou—Address to the Sans Culottes—The
ap le-woman—New amours—I am imprisoned—The
jai or Beaupré—The veriﬁcation of the broth—M. de
Bethune—I get my liberty—The sister of my liberator


XX CONTENTS.
-—I am made an oﬂicer—The quarters of St Sylvestre
Capella—The revolutionary army—The retaking of a
vessel—My betrothed—A disguise—The pretended
pregnancy—I marry—I am content without being
beaten—Another stay at the Baudets—My emanci_
pation .............................-........
CHAPTER III.
Residence at Brussels—Coffee-houses—The gastronomic
gendarmes—A forger—‘The roving arm —The baro-
ness and the baker-boy—The disappointment—A r-
rival at Paris—A gay lady—Mysliﬁcation. . . .. . . . . .
CHAPTER IV.
The gypsies—A Flemish fair—Return to Lille—Another
acquaintance—The Bull's-eye—The sentence of pu-
nishment—St Peter‘s tower—The prisoners-—A for-
gery........................................
CHAPTER V.
Three escapes—The Chauﬂ‘eurs—The suicide—Thain-
terrogatory—Vidocq accused of assassination—Sent
back on a complaint-Fresh escape—Departure for
Ostend—The smugglers—Vidocq retaken . . . . . . . .
CHAPTER VI.
The pewter keys—The quacks—Vidocq an hussar—He
is retaken—The siege of the dungeon—Sentence—
Condemnation ................................
Page.
24
38
55
68
88


CONTENTS.
xxi
CHAPTER VII.
Departure from Douai—The prisoners revolt in the forest
of Compeigne—Residence at the Bicétre—Prison
customs—The madhouse ...........
CHAPTER VIII-
The departure of the chain-Captain Viez and his
lieutenant Thierry--The complaint of the galley-
slaves—The visit from Paris—Humanity of the gal-
ley-serjeants—They encourage plundering—The loaf
converted into a portmanteau—Useless attempt to
escape- The Bagne at Brest—The benedictions . .
CHAPTER IX.
Of the colonization of the convicts. . . . . . . . . . n. . . . . .
CHAPTER X.
The pursuit after the galley-slave—The village mayor—-
The voice of blood—The hospital—Sister Frangoise—
Faublas the second—The mother of robbers. . ......
CHAPTER XI.
The market-place at Chalet—Arrival at Paris—History
of captaiuVilledieu .............. ...... .-....
CHAPTER XII.
Journey to Arms—Father Lambert—Vidocq a school-
master—Departure for Holland—The “sellers of souls"
—The mutiny—The corsair—Catastrophe ...... . . . .
Page
113
126
137
I50
165
181


xxii conrnnrs.
CHAPTER XIII.
Pa [e
I see Francine again—My re-establishmentin the prison
of Douai—Am I, or am I not, Duval ’l-—-The magis-
trates embarrassed—I confess that I am Vidocq—
Another residence at Bicétre—I ﬁnd captain Labbre
there—Departure for Toulon—Jossas, the famous rob»
bee—His interview with a. great lady—A tempest on
the Rhone—The marquis of St Armand—The execu-
tioner of the Bagne—The plunderers of the wardrobe—-
A family of Chauﬁ‘eurs . . . . . . . . . . -
CHAPTER XIV.
Father Matthieu—I enter on a new line of business—
Ruin of my establishment—I am supposed to be
paralyzed in my limbs—I am assistant inajor—Ecce
Homo, or the psalm-seller—A disguise—Stop him!
he isa fugitiveconvict—I am added to the double
chain—The kindness of the commissary-I tell him
a made-up tale—My best contrived escape—The lady
of the town and the burial—I know not what—Criti-
cal situation—A band of robbers—I detect a thief—
193
I get my dismissal—I promise secrecy . . . . . . . ..... 220


MEMOIRS OF VIDOCQ.

CHAPTER I.
My birth— Precocious disposition—l become a journeyman baker
—'l'he ﬁrst theft—The false key-The accusing fowls—The
nlolen plate—Prison—Maternal clemency—My father’s eyen
opened—The ﬁnishing stroke—Departure from Arras—I leek
a ship—The ship broker—The danger of idleness—The trumpet
calls—M. Camus, ﬁrst physician in the world—The preceptor
of general Jacquot—The rope dancers—I enter the company—-
Lessons of the Little Devil—The savage of the South Seas—-
Punch and the Theatre of Amusing Varieties—A scene of jea-
lousy, or the serjeant in the eye—l go into the service of n.
quack doctor—Return to my father’s house—Acquaintance with
an actor—Another chace—My departure in a regiment—The
rash companion—Desertion—The raw Picardy soldier and the
assignats—I go over to the enemy—A ﬂogging—I return to
my old standard—A domestic robbe , and the housekeeper
of an old worthy—'1‘wo duels a day—Yam wounded-My father
a public functionary—l join the war—Change of regiment—Reli-
dance at Arms. a
I was born at Arras ; my continual disguises, the
flexibility of my features, and a singular power of gri-
macing, having cast some doubt concerning my age,
it will not be deemed superﬂuous to declare here, that
I was brought into the world on the 23d of July 1775,
in a house adjoining that in which Robespierrc was
born sixteen years before. It was night; the rain fell
in torrents; the thunder growled; a relation, who
combined the functions of midwife and fortune-teller,
predicted that my career would be a stormy one.
There were even then in the world some good people
who believed in prognostications ; now that the world
VOL. I. B


2 memoras or leOCQ.
has become more enlightened, how many men, and
those far from being old women, would bet on the
infallibility of Miss Lenormand!
However that may be, we will presume that the sk
was not troubled on my special account; and althoug
there is always something very attractive in the mar-
vellous, I am far from thinking that the turbulence of
the elements had much reference to my birth. I had
a most robust constitution, and there was plent of
me, so that as soon as I was born they took me or a
child of two years of age; and lgave tokens of that
athletic ﬁgure, that colossal form, which have since
struck terror into the most hardened and owerful
ruﬂians. My father’s house being situate in the
Place d’Ar'mes, the constant resort of all the black-
guards of the vicinity, I had my muscular powers
7 early called into action, in regularly thrashing my
comrades, whose parents were regular-l complaining
of me to my father and mother. At ome nothing
was talked of but torn ears, black eyes and rent r-
ments; at eight years of age, I was the terror all
the dogs,'cats, and children of the neighbourhood;
at thirteen I handled a foil sufﬁciently well not to be
defeated in an attack. My father perceiving that 1
associated chieﬂy with the military of the garrison,
was alarmed for me, and desired me to prepare myself
for the ﬁrst receiving of the communion: two devotees .
undertook to repareme for this solemn duty. God
knows what ruit I have gathered from their lessons.
I began at the same time to learn the trade of a baker,
which was my father’s business, in which he intended
that I should succeed him, although I had an elder
brother.
M emplo ment rincipally consisted in carryin
brea through the oily. During my rounds I madg
frequent visits to the fencing-rooms, of which my
parents were not long in ignorance; but the cooks all
gave such testimony of my politeness and punctuality
that they winked at this triﬂing prank. This went on
__-._-.-u_-|


unmorns or vrnoco. 3 '
until they discovered a deﬁciency in the till, of which
they never took away the key. My brother, who
visited it in the same manner as myself, was detected
in the very act, and sent off in a hurry to a baker at
Lille. The day after this event, which had not been
explained to me, I was about to explore, according to
custom, the convenient drawer, when I perceived that
it was carefully closed. The same day my father
desired me to use more alacrity in my rounds, and to
return at a certain hour. It was then evident that
from this day ibrward I should be equally deprived
of liberty and money. I bewailed this twofold cala-
mity, and hastened to impart it to n comrade named
Poyant, older than myself. As a hole was cut in
the counter to drop the mone through, he ﬁrst
advised me to introduce a feat er dipped in glue;
but this ingenious expedient only produced me
very small pieces of money, and it became necessary
for me to employ a false key, which was made for me
b a blacksmith’s son. I then dipped again into the
chest, and we spent together the fruits of these pil-
ferings at a public-house where we had established
our head quarters. There assembled, attracted by
the master of the house, a great man well-known
rogues, and some unfortunate young fel ows, who, to
get replenished pockets, used the same expedient as
myself. I soon joined the society of the most aban-
doned vagabonds of the country, Boudou, Delcroix,
Hedon, Franchison, Basserie, &c., who initiated me
into all their villnnies. Such- was the honourable
society in the bosom of which I spent my leisure
hours, until one day my father surprised me, as he
had done my brother, took away my key, heartily
thrashed me, and took such precautions as totally cut,
off all my hopes of ever again getting a dividend from
the receipts therein deposited. '
My only resource was now to take my tithes from
the bakings. Occasionally I ilfered a loaf or two;
but as in disposing of them was. compelled to sell


4 memorns or vrnoco.
them very cheaply, I scarcely b their sale obtained
sufﬁcient to regale myself wit tarts and honey.
Necessity makes us active; I had an eye for every-
thing; all was agreeable to me, wine, sugar, coffee,
and liquors. My mother had never known her
provisions to disappear so quickly, and perhaps
would not have discovered so soon, but two chickens
which I had resolved on disposing of to my own '
piculiar proﬁt raised their voices to accuse me.
'd in my breeches pocket, and concealed by
my baker’s apron, they thrust out their heads and
crowed; and my mother thus informed of their in-
tended fate, came out to prevent it. She gave me
several cuﬂ‘s of the head, and sent me supperless to
bed. I did not sleep a wink, and it was, I think, the
evil spirit that kept me awake; all I know is, that I
rose with the determination to lay hands on all the
plate. One thing alone gave me uneasiness. On
each piece the name of VIDOCQ was engraved in large
letters. Poyant, to whom I broached the matter,
overruled all difﬁculties; and the same day, at dinner
time, I swept off ten forks and as many coffee spoons.
Twenty minutes afterwards the whole was pawned,
and the next day I had not a farthing left of the
hundred and ﬁfty francs which they lent me on them.
I did not return home for three days, and on the
third evening I was arrested by two police ofﬁcers,
who conveyed me to the Baudets, a place in which
mad persons are conﬁned, together with those com-
mitted for trial, and the rogues of the district. I was
kept in a dungeon for ten days without being told the
cause of my arrest, and then the jailor told me that I
had been imprisoned at the desire of my father. This
information a little composed me: it was a paternal
correction that was inﬂicted on me, and I accordingly
judged that its continuance would not be rigorous.
My mother came to see me the next day, and I was
pardoned. Four days afterwards I was set at liberty,
and I returned to work with a determination and


unmorns or vrnoco. 6
promise of henceforward conducting myself ’ irre-
proachably. Vain resolve! g I soon reumed my-
old habits, except extravagance; and I had excellent
reasons for no more playing the prodigal, for my
father, who had before been rather careless and reu
gardless, now exercised a vigilance that would have
done credit to the commandant of an advanced guard.
If he left the post at the counter, my mother relieved
guard; it was impossible for me to approach it,
although I was constantly on the look out. This
put. me in despair. At last one of my tavern coma
panions took pity on me; it was Poyant again, that
thorough rogue, of whose abilities in this way the
citizens of Arras may still preserve the memo . I
conﬁded my sorrows to'his friendly bosom. “ W at,”
said he, “ you are a precious fool to remain thus; and
what a thing it is that a lad of your age should be
ever short a farthing. Ah! were I in your place, I
know what I should do.”—“ Well, what P”-—“ Your
parents are rich, and a thousand crowns, more or less,
would not hurt them. The old misers! they are fair
game, and we must carry it oﬂ‘.”—“ I understand, we
must grasp at once what we cannot get in detail.”
—--“You’re right; and then we will be oﬁ; neither
seen not known.”—-“ Yes, but the police.”—“ Hold
your tongue; are you not their son ? and your mother
15 too fond for that.” This consideration of my
mother’s love, united to the remembrance of her in-
dulgence after my late freaks, was powerfully er-
suasive; I blindly adopted a project which smile on
my audacity; it only remained to put it in execution,
and an opportunity was not long wanting.
One evening whilst my mother was at home alone,
a conﬁdant of Poyant came kindly to tell her, that
engaged in a debauch with some girls, I was ﬁghting
eve body, and breaking and destroying everything in
theriiouse, and that if I were not stopped there would
be at least a hundred francs to pay for the damage
done. -
In 2


6 ' msmoms or vinoco.
At this moment my mother was seated in her chair
knitting; the stockin dropped from her hand, she
arose with haste, an ran with great alarm to the
place of the pretended aﬁi-ay, which had been ﬁxed
on at the extremity of the cit . Her absence could
not be of long continuance, an we hastened to proﬁt
by it. A key which 1 had stolen from the old lady
procured us admittance into the shop. The till was
closed; I was almost glad to meet with this obstacle.
I recalled the memory of my. mother’s love for me,
not as an inducement; to commit the act with im-
punity, but as exciting feelings of coming remorse. I
was going to retire; Poyant held me, his infernal
eloquence made me blush for what he called my
weakness; and when he presented me with a crow-
bar, with which he had the precaution to provide
himself, I seized it almost with enthusiasm; the chest
was forced; it contained nearly 2,000 francs aigtupwards
of 801.) which we shared, and half an hour erwards.
I was alone on the road to Lille. In the trouble
which this affair threw me into, I walked at ﬁrst very
quickly, so that when I reached Lens I was much
fatigued. A return chaise passed, into which I got,
and in less than three hours arrived at the capital of
French Flanders, whence I immediately started for
Dunkirk, being excessively anxious to place myself
beyond the reach of pursuit.
I had resolved on visiting the new world. My fate
forbade this project. The port of Dunkirk was empty.
I;reached Calais, intending to embark immediately,
but they asked me more than the whole sum in my
possession. Iwas induced to hope that at Ostend
the fare would be less ; and on going there found the
captains not more reasonable than at Calais. Thus
disappointed I fell into that adventurous disposition
which induces us to throw ourselves voluntarily into
the arms of the ﬁrst enter-prize that offers; and, I.
scarcely know why, I expected to meet with some
good fellow who would take _me on board his vessel


mamoms or vrnoco. 7
without being paid, or at least would make a con--
siderable reduction in favour of my good appearance,
and the interest which a young man always inspires.
Whilst I was walking, full of this idea, I was accosted
by a erson whose benevolent appearance induced a
beliefp that my vision was about to be realized. The
ﬁrst words he addressed to me were questions. He
had learnt that I was a stranger; he told me that he
was a ship-broker; and when he learnt the cause
of my coming to Ostend, he offered his services.
“ Your countenance pleases me,” said he, “ I like an
open face; there is in your features the air of frank-
ness and joviality which I like, and I will prove it to
you by procuring for you a passage for almost nothing.”
I spoke of my gratitude. “ No thanks, my friend,
that will be soon enough when your business is com-
pleted, which I hope will be soon; but surely you will
be tired of waiting about in this manner?” I said
that certainly I was not very much amused. “ If you
will. accompany me to Blakemberg, we will sup there
together, with some jolly fellows, who are very fond of
Frenchmen.” The broker was so polite, and asked
me so cordially, that I thought it would be ungentle-
manly to refuse, and therefore accepted his, invitation.
He conducted me to a house where some very agree-
able ladies welcomed us with all that ancient hospi-
tality which did not conﬁne itself only to feastin .
At midnight, fprobably—I say probably, for we too
no account 0 hours—my head became heavy, and
my legs would no longer support me; there was around
me a complete chaos, and things whirled in such a
manner, that without perceiving that they had un-
dressed me, I thought I was stripped to my shirt in
the same bed with one of the Blakembergian nymphs;
it might be true, but all that I know is, that I soon
fell soundly asleep. On waking I found myself cold;
instead of the large green curtains which ad appeared
to me in my sleep, my heavy eyes only azed on a
forest of masts, and I heard the watchfuI cry which.


8 menorns or vrnocQ.
only echoes in the sea-ports. I endeavoured to rise, and
my hand touched a heap of cordage against whichl
was leaning. Did I dream, then, or had I dreamt the
previous evening? Ifelt about, I got up, and when
on my feet I found that I did not dream, and what
was worse, that I was not one of the small number
of those ersonages whom fortune favours whilst
sleeping. Iwas half naked, and except two crowns
and six livres, which I found in one of my breeches
pockets, I was pennyless. It was then but too clear
to me, as the broker had said, “ my business had soon
been done.” I was greatlyenraged, but what did
that avail me? I was even unable to point out the
' spot where I had been thus plundered. I made up
my mind and returned to the inn, where I had some
clothes which remedied the deﬁciencies of my “attire.
I had no occasion to tell my misfortune to the land-
lord. ‘,‘Ah, ah!” said he to me, as far off as he
could see me, “ here comes another. Do you know,
young man, that you have got off well? You return
with all our limbs, which is lucky when one gets into
such a hornet’s nest; you now know what a land
shark is; they were certainly beautiful syrens! All
pirates are not on the sea, you observe, nor all the
sharks within it; I will wager that they have not left
you a fiarthing.” I drew my two crowns from in
pocket to show them to the inn-keeper. “ That '1
be,” said he, “just enough to pay your bill,” which he
then presented. I paid it and took leave of him,
without however quitting the city.
Assuredly, my voyage to America was deferred till
the Greek calends, and the old continent was to be
my lot; I was about to be reduced to the level of the
lowest degrees of degraded civilization, and my future
lot was the more uncertain and disquieting, as I had
no present resources. At home I never wanted bread;
and this inspired regret for my paternal roof; the oven,
said I to myself, was always heated for me as well as
for others. \After these regrets, I ran over mentally


NEMOIRS OF VIDOCQ. 9
all that crowd of mo'rnl rcflcxions which people-have
thought to strengthen by clothing them in the garb of
superstition :—“ A bad action brings no good luck:
ill acquired gains proﬁt us nothing.” For the ﬁrst time I
acknowledged from experience a mine of truth in these
prophetic sentences, which perpetual predictions were
more sure than the admirable Centuries of Michael Nos-
tradamus. I was in the repenting mood, as may be
behaved from my situation. I calculated the conse-
quences of my ﬂight and its aggravating sequel, but
these were but ephemeral feelings: it was written that
I should not so soon be placed in the right way. The
sea was open to me as a profession, and I resolved to
betrothe myself to it, at the risk of breaking my neck
thirty times a day, by climbing, for eleven francs a
month, up the rigging of a ship. I was ready to enter
like a novice, when the sound of a trnm et suddenly
arrested my attention; it was not that ‘a regiment,
but of Paillasse (Merry-Andrew) and his master, who,
in front of a show bedecked with the emblems of an
itinerant menagerie, was awaiting the mob, which never
hisses the vulgar exhibitions. I saw the beginning;
and whilst a large crowd was testifying its gratiﬁcation
. by loud shouts of laughter, it occurred to me that the
master of Paillasse might give me employment.
Paillasse appeared to me a good fellow, and I was de-
sirous of securing his protection; and as I knew that
one good turn deserves another, when he at down
from his platform, on saying “follow the crow ,” think-
ing that he might be thirsty, I devoted my last shilling
in offering him half a pint of gin. Paillasse, sensible
of this politeness, promised instantly to speak for me,
and as soon as our pint was ﬁnished, he presented me
to the director. He was the famous Cotte-Comus;
he called himself the ﬁrst physician of the world, and
in traversing the country, had united his talents to
those of the naturalist Garnier, the learned receptor
gleneral Jacquot, whom all Paris saw in t e square
t
of
of e Fountains before and after the revolution. These


10 museum or vinocq.
gentlemen had with them a troop of rope dancers,
Comus, as soon as I appeared before him, asked me
what I could do. “ Nothing,” said I. “ In that case,"
said he, “ they will teach you: there are greater fools
than you, and then besides, you have not a clumsy
appearance. We shall see if you have a taste for the
stage; then I will engage you for two years ; the ﬁrst
six months you shall be well fed, and clothed; at the
end of that time you shall have a sixteenth of the
proﬁts; and the year following, if you are bright, I will
've you a share like the others; in the mean time, my
riend, I will ﬁnd occupation for you."
Thus was I introduced, and then went to partake of '
the ﬂock-bed of the obli 'ng merry-andrew. At the
break of day we were aw ened by the sonorous voice
of our master, who leading me to akind of small room,
said, whilst showing me the lamps and wooden chan-
deliers—“ There is your employment, you must clean
these and put them in proper order; do you under-
stand ? And afterwards you must clean out the cages
of the animals, and brush the ﬂoors.” I went about
my job, which did not greatly please me: the tallow
disgusted me, and I was not quite at my ease with the
monkeys, who enraged to see a fool to whom they
were not accustomed, made inconceivable efforts to
tear my eyes out. But I yielded to iron necessity. My
duty performed, I appeared before the director, who
said that I was an a t pu i1, and that if I was assiduous
he would do somet ing or me. I rose early, and was
very hungry; it was ten o’clock, but no signs of break-
fast were visible, and et,it was agreed that I should
have bed and board. was sinking from want, when
they gave me a piece of brown bread, so hard, that
being unable to get through with it, although gifted
with sharp teeth and a famous a petite, I threw the
greater portion amongst the animals. I was obliged to
light up in the evening, and as, from want of practice,
I did not evince in my occupation all possible dis-
patch, the director, who was a brute, administered to


mnmoms or vxnoco. 11
me a slight correction, which be renewed the next and
following days. A month had not elapsed before I
was in awretched condition; my clothes, spotted with
grease and torn by the monkeys, were in rags; ] was
devoured by vermln; hard diet had made me so thin
that no one would have recognised me; and then it
was that there arosein all imaginable bitterness the
regrets for my paternal home, where good food, soft
bed, and excellent clothing were mine, and when I had
no monkeys to make clean and feed.
I was in this mood, when one morning Comus- told
me that after due consideration he was convinced that
I should make an admirable tumbler. He then placed
me under the tuition of sieur Balmate, called the
“ little devil,” with orders to train me. My master
just escaped breaking my loins at the ﬁrst bend which
he compelled me to make. I took two or three lessons
daily. In less than three weeks, I was able to execute
with much skill the monkey’s leap, the drunkard’s
leap, the coward’s leap, &c. My teacher, delighted at
my progress, took pains to forward me; a hundred
times I thought that in developing my powers, he
would dislocate my limbs. At length we reached the
diﬁiculties of the art, which became more and more
complicated. At 111 ﬁrst attempt at the grand ﬂing
I nearly split mysel in two; and in the chair~leap I
broke my nose. Bruised, maimed and tired of so
rilous a business, I determined on telling Comus that
had, no desire to become a vaulter. “ Oh you do
not like it,” said he; and without objecting to my re-
fusal gave me a sound thumping. I then left Balmate
entirely and returned to my lam s.
Cornus had given me up, and it was now for Garnier
to give me a turn. One day, after having beaten me
more than usual (for he shared that pleasing ofﬁce
with Comus) Garnier, measuring me from head to foot,
and viewing with a marked dehght the dilapidation of
my doublet, through which my ﬂesh was visible, said to
me, “ I like you; you have reached the point that


12 manoms or vioocQ.
pleases me. Now, if you are obedient it remains with
yourself to be happy: from to day you must let your
nails grow; your hair is already of a sufﬁcient length;
you are nearly naked, and a decoction of walnut-tree
eaves will do the rest.” I did not understand what
Garnier meant, when he called my friend- Paillasse and
desired him to bring the tiger skin and club. Paillasse
obeyed—“ Now,” said Garnier, “ we willf go through
the performance. You are a youn savage from the
South Seas, and moreover a cannibal; you' eat raw
ﬂesh, 'the sight of blood puts you in a fury, and when
you are thirsty, you introduce into your mouth ﬁints
which you crack; you utter only broken and shrill
sounds, you open your eyes widely, your motions are
violent; you only move with leaps and bounds: ﬁnally,
take for your model the ourang-outang who is in cage
number one.” During this lesson, a jar full of small
stones quite round was placed at my feet, and near it a
cock which was tired with having its legs tied together;
Garnier took it, and offered it to me, saying “ Gnaw
away at this.” I would not bite it; he threatened me.
I rebelled, and demanded to be released; to which he
replied by a dozen cuﬂs of the ear. But'he did not
get off scot-free : irritated at this usage, I seized a stake,
and should assuredly have knocked the naturalist on
the head, if the whole troop had not fallen Ol'l me,
and thrust me out at the door with a shower of blows
from the ﬁst and kicks of the feet.
Some days afterwards, I was at the same public
house with a showman and his wife who exhibited
puppets in the open street. We made acquaintance,
and I found that I had inspired them with some feel-
ings of interest. The husband pitied me for having
been condemned to what he termed the society of
beasts. He compared me with Daniel in the lions’ den.
We may see that he was learned, and intended for
something better than to play ‘ Punch..’ At a later
period he superintended a provincial theatrical eom_
pany, and perhaps superintends it still. I shall conceal


MEMOIRS or vrnocq. 13
.
his name. The embryo manager was very witty, though
his wife did not perceive it; he was very ugly, which
she plainly perceived. She was one of those smart
brunettes with long eyelashes, whose hearts are of most
inﬂammable material, which deserve a better destiny
than to light a ﬁre of straw. I was young and so was
the lady: she was only sixteen, her husband thirty-
ﬁve. As soon as I found myself out of place, I went
to seek this couple; it struck me that they would ad-
vise me correctly. They gave me some dinner and
congratulated me in having dared to free myself from
the despotic yoke of Garnier. “ Since you are your
own master,” said the husband to me, “ you had better
accompany us: you will assist us; at least, when we
are three in number we shall have no lost time between
the acts; you will move the actors whilst Eliza goes
round with the hat; thus the public will be attracted
and not go 06‘, and our proﬁts will be more abundant.
What say you, Eliza ? ” Eliza answered, that she
would do in this respect all he might desire, and be-
sides she entirely agreed with him; and at the same
time gave me a look which bespoke that she was not
displeased, and that we should soon understand each
other. I accepted the new employ with gratitude, and
at the next representation I was installed to my oﬁice. ‘
The situation was inﬁnitelysuperior to that at Garnier’s.
Eliza, who, despite my leanness, had discovered that I
was not so badly made as I was clothed, made a thou-
sand secret advances, to which I was not backward in
reply: at the end of three days she said she loved me.
I was not ungrateful; we were happy and constantly
together. At home, we only laughed, played and
joked. Eliza’s husband took all that for child’s sport;
when at Work ‘we were side by side under a narrow
cabin, formed of four cloth rags, digniﬁed by the
s lendid title of “ Theatre of Amusing Varieties.”
liza was on the right of her husband, and I on her right
hand, and ﬁlled her place when she was not there to
superintend the exits and entrances. One Sunday the
- c


l4 usuoms or vrnoco.
play was in full representation, and there was a crowded
au ience round the stage. Punch had beaten every-
body, and our master, having nothing more to do with
one of his personages (the Serjeant of the Watch)
wished it to be removed, and called for his assistant.
We heard him not. “ Assistant, assistant,” he repeated
with impatience, and at the third time turning round
he saw us enfolding each other in a close embrace.
Eliza, surprised, sought for an excuse, but the husband
without listening cried out again, “ Assistant,” and
thrust against his eye the book which served to sus-
pend the serjeant. At the same moment the blood
ﬂowed, the representation was interru ted, and a battle
ensued between the two married peopiia; the show was
overturned, and we were exposed in the midst of a
numerous crowd of spectators, from whom this scene
drew a lengthened peal of applause and laughter.
This disaster again threw me on the wide world,
without a home to shelter my head. If I had had a
decent appearance I might have procured a situation
in a respectable family, but my appearance was so
wretched that no one would have anything to say to
me. In my situation I had but one resource, that of
returning to Arras: but then how to exist on the
road? I was a prey to these perplexities, when a
person passed near me whom I took by his appearance
to be a pedlar. I entered into conversation with him,
and he told me that he was going to Lille; that he sold
powders, opiates, and elixirs, cut corns, relieved bun-
nions, and sometimes extracted teeth. “ It is a good
trade," added he, “ but I am gettin old, and want
somebody to carry my pack; it is a stiﬁlbacked fellow
like you that I need, with a ﬁrm foot, and steady eye;
so if you like we will tramp it together.”-—“ Willingly,”
was my reply, and without an further stipulation, we
went on our way together. A er an eight hours’ walk,
night drew on, and we conld scarcely see our way, when
we halted before a wretched village 1nn.”-—“ Here it is.”
said the itinerant doctor, knocking at the door.—-“ Who


mamoms or VIDOCQ. 15
is there ?” cried ahoarse voice. .“ Father Godard with his
pack,” answered my guide; and the door immediately
opening, we found Ourselves in the midst of a crowd
of pedlars, tinkers, quack-doctors, umbrella-venders,
showmen, &c. who hailed my new master, and ordered
a plate to be brought for him. I thought they would
do me equal honor, and l was about to seat myself
at table, when the host, striking me familiarly on the
shoulder, asked me if I was not the mountebank of
father Godard. “ Who do you call a mountebank ?”
said I with astonishment. “ The merry-andrew, then.”
I confess that, despite of the recent reminiscences of
the menagerie, and the Theatre of Amusing Varieties, I
felt' mortiﬁed at such an pellation. But I had a devil
of an appetite, and as alPthought that supper would
follow the interrogatory, and that, after all, m situation
with father Godard had not been accurate y deﬁned,
I consented to pass for his mountebank. On my an-
swering, the host led me at once to a neighbouring
spot, a sort of ham, where a dozen of fellows were
smoking, drinking, and playin at cards. He said that
they would send me in somet ing to eat. Soon after-
wards, a stout wench brought me in a mess in a
wooden bowl, on which I feed with the utmost avidity.
A loin of mutton was swimming in a sea of pot liquor
with stringy turni s: I cleared the whole up in a
twinkling. This one, I laid myself down with the
other packmen’s valets, on some piles of straw, which
we shared with a camel, two muzzled bears, and a
crowd of learned dogs. The vicinity of such bed-
fellows was not the most pleasing; but it was neces-
sary to put up with it. I did not close my eyes, whilst
all the others snored away most gloriously.
Father Godard paid for all, and however had were the
beds and the fare, as we drew near Arras, it was neces-
sary that I should not quit him. At length we reached
Lille, which we entered on a market day. By way of
los' no time, father Godard went straight to the
principal square, and desired me to arrange his table,


16 namorns or vrnocq.
his chest, his vials and packets, and then proposed
that I should go and announce his arrival round the
place. I had made a good breakfast, and the proposi-
tion disgusted me : I could put up with acting with a
dromedary, and carrying his baggage from Ostend to
Lille, but to go round in parade, at ten leagues from
Arras—No! I bade adieu to father Godard, and then
set out towards my native city, of which the clock soon
became visible. Having reached the foot of the ram-
parts, before the closing of the gates, I trembled at the
idea of the reception I should meet with: one moment
I was tempted to beat a retreat, but fatigue and hunger
- could not allow that; rest and food were vitally ne-
cessary: ] wavered no longer, and ran towards
my paternal roof. My mother was alone in the shop :
I entered, and throwing myself at her feet, wept whilst
I intreated her forgiveness. The poor old woman, who
hardly recognised me, so greatly was I altered, was
softened. She had not power to repulse me, and even.
appeared to have forgotten all. She reinstated me in
my old chamber, after having supplied all my wants.
But it was necessary to tell m father of my return.
She did not feel courage to ace his ﬁrst bursts of
anger: a priest of her acquaintance, the almoner of
the regiment of Anjou, garnsoned at Arms, undertook
to be the bearer of the words of peace; and my father,
after having vowed ﬁre and ﬂames, consented to pardon
me. I trembled lest he should prove inexorable, and
when I learnt that he had yielded, I jumped for joy.
The almoner brought the news to me, and followed it
up with a moral application, which was no doubt very
touching, but I do not remember a word of it; I
only recollect that he quoted the parable of the
Prodigal Son, which was in truth a history similar to
my own. ‘
My adventures had made some noise in the city;
everybody was anxious to hear them from my own
lips. But no one, except one actress of the Arras com-
pany, took more interest in them than two milliners of


MEMOIRS or vwoco. 17
the Rue de Trois Visages: I paid them frequent visits.
However, the actress soon obtained the exclusive
privilege of my attention, and an intrigue followed, in
which, disguised as a young girl, I renewed at her
house some scenes from the romance of Faublas. A
sudden journey to Lille with my conquest, her hus-
band, and a very pretty little maid servant, who passed
me off for her sister, proved to my father that I had soon
forgotten the troubles of my ﬁrst campaign. My ab-
sence was not of long continuance: three weeks had
scarcely elapsed, when, from want of money, the actress
refused an longer to allow-’me to form part of the
baggage. Ireturned quietly to Arras, and my father
was confounded at the straightforward way with
which I asked his consent to enter the army. The
best he could do was to comply, which he did;
and the next day I was clad in the'uniform of the
Bourbon regiment. My height, good ﬁgure, and skill
in arms, procured for me an appointment in a company
of chasseurs. Some old veterans took offence at it,
and I sent two to the hospital in consequence, when
I soon joined them myself, on being wounded by one of
theircomrades. This commencement gave me notoriety,
and they took a malicious pleasure in reviewing my
past adventures; so that at the end of six months,
Reckless,—-for they bestowed that name on me,-had
killed two men and fought ﬁfteen duels. In other
respects I enjoyed all the pleasures of a garrison life.
I mounted guard at the cost of some good shopkeepers,
whose daughters took on themselves the charge of
making me as comfortable as possible. My mother
added to these liberalities, and my father made me an
allowance; and besides I found means to run in debt:
thus I really cut a ﬁgure, and scarcely felt anything of
the troubles of discipline. Once only I was sentenced
to a fort ' ht’s imprisonment because I had not an-
swered to t ee summonses. I underwent my punish-
ment in a dungeon beneath one of the bastions, where
one of my comrades was shut up with me, a soldier
c 2


18 MEMOIRS or vmoco.
in the same regiment. He was accused of various rob;
beries, which he had confessed. Scarcer were we
alone when he told me the grounds of his detention.
Doubtlessly the regiment would give him up, and this
idea, joined to the dread of dishonouring his liunily,
threw him into dispair. Ipitied him, and seeing no
remedy for so deplorable a case, Icounselled him-to
evade punishment either by escape or suicide. He de-
termined to try the former ere he~resolved on the .
latter; and, aided by a young friend who came to visit
me, I prepared all for his. ﬂight. At midnight two
bars of iron were broken, and we conducted the pri-
soner to the ramparts, and then I said to him—“ Go:
you must either jump orlumg.” He calculated the
height, and hesitating, determined rather to~ mm the
chance of his sentence than to break his legs. He was
preparing to return to his dungeon: at a moment when
he least expected it, we gave him a push over: he
shrieked out whilst I bid him be silent. I then re-
turned to my cell: when on-my straw I tasted the re-
pose which the consciousness of a good deed always
brings. The next day, on the ﬂight of my companion
being discovered, I Was questioned, and dismissed on
saying that I knew nothing of the aﬁhir. Some years
afterwards, I met this unfortunate fellow, who looked
on me as his liberator. Since his fall .he had been lame,
but had become an honest man.
I could not remain eternally at Arras ; war had been
declared against Austria, and I set out with the regi-
ment, and soon after was present at the rout of Mar-
quain which ended at Lille by the massacre of the
brave and unfortunate general Dillon. After this we
were ordered. against the camp at Maulde, and then
in that de la Lune, when, with the infernal army under
the command of Kellerman, I was engaged in the
battle against the Prussians of the 30th of October.
The'next day I was made corporal of grenadiers:
thereupon it became necessary to baptise my worst/ed
lace, and I acquitted myself with much credit at the


“atoms or vmo‘c‘q. 19'
drinking booth, when I know not how or why, I
q'uarrelled with the serjeant-major of the regiment
which l-had just left. An honourable meeting, which
I proposed, was agreed upon, but when on the ground
my adversary pretended that the difference from rank
would not allow of his measuring weapons with me.
I sought to compel him by violence, he went to make
complaint of me, and the same evening I was, together
with my second, placed under arrest. Two days after-
Wards we were informed that we were to be tried by
court-mart'ml, and thereupon determined to desert.
My comrade in his waistcoat only, with a cap on his‘
head, like a soldier about to undergo punishment,
walked before me, who had'on a hairy cap, my knapsack,
and musket, at the end of which was a large packet‘
sealed with red wax, and inscribed “ To'the citizen
commandant of the quarters at Vitry-le-Francais.”
This was our passport, and we reached Vitry in safety,
and procured citizens’ habits from a Jew. At this
period the walls of every city were covered with pla-
cards, in which all Frenchmen were invited to ﬂy to
the'defence of their country. At such a juncture the
ﬁrst comers were enrolled: a quarter-master of the
l-lth chasseurs received us, gava us our route, and
we immediately started for the depot at Philippeville.
My companion and self had but little cash, when
fortunately a lucky windfall was in waiting for us at
Chﬁlons. In the same inn with us was a soldier of
Beaujolais, who invited us to drink. He was-an open-
hearted countryman of Picardy, and as Iconversed
with him in the provincial dialect of his country, whilst
the glass was circulating we grew such great friends,
that he shewed us a portfolio ﬁlled with assignats,
which he said he had found near Chateau-l’Abbaye..
“ Comrades,” said he, “ I cannot read, but if you will
tell me what these papers are worth, I will give you a;
share.” The Picard could not have asked any one
better able to inform him, and in bulk he had much the
greater quantity; _but he had no suspicion that we had
I


20 nations or vrnoco.
retained in value nine-tenths of the sum. This little
supply was not useless duri the remainder of our
journey, which we ﬁnished With much glee. Arrived
at our place of destination, we had still enough left
to keep the pot boiling. A short time afterwards we
Were suﬂiciently skilled in horsemanship to be ap-
pointed to one of the squadrons on service, and we
reached the army two days before the battle of Jem-
mappes. It was not the ﬁrst time that I smelt
powder, and I was no coward; indeed I had reason to
now that I had found favour in the eyes of my ofﬁ-
care, when my captain informed me, that having been
discovered to be a deserter, I should be most cer-
tainly arrested. _The danger was imminent, and that
same evening I saddled my horse, intending to go over
to the Austrians. I soon reached their out-posts; and
on asking to be admitted, was incorporated at once
with the cuirassiers of Kinski. What I most feared
was lest I should be com elled next day to cross swords _
with the French, and I) hastened to avoid any such
necessity. A retended illness enabled me to be left
at Louvain, w ere after passing some days in the hos-
ital, I offered to give the ofﬁcers of the garrison
fessons in fencing. They were delighted with the
proposal, and supplied me with masks, gloves, and-
foils; and an assault, in which I disarmed two or three
pretended German masters was enough to give them
the highest opinion of my skill. I soon had many
pu ils, and reaped a good harvest of ﬂorins.
was too much elated with m success, when at the
end of a brisk attack on a b ' ier, I was condemned
to undergo twenty stripes of the cat, which, according
to custom, were given to me on parade. This trans-
ported me with rage, and I refused to give another
lesson. I was ordered to continue, with a choice of I
giving lessons or a fresh ﬂogging. I decided on the
former; but the cat annoyed me, and I resolved to
dare all to escape from it. Being informed that a
lieutenant was about to join the army under general
1


unmoms or vmocQ. 2|
Schroeder, I begged to accompany him as his schant;
' to which he agreed, under the idea that I should make
a St George of him; but he was mistaken, for as we
approached Quesnoi I took French leave, and directed
my journey towards Landrecies, where I passed for a
Belgian who had left the Austrian banner. They
wished me to enter a cavalry regiment, but the fear of
being recognised and shot, if ever I should be brigaded
with my old regiment, made me give the preference to
the 14th light regiment (the old chasseurs of the bar-
riers. The army of the Sambre and Meuse was then
mar ing towards Aix-la-Chapelle; the company to
which I belonged received orders to follow it. We
set out, and on entering Rocroi I saw the chasseurs
of the llth. I ve myself up for lost, when my old
captain, with w om I could not avoid an interview,
gave me courage. This worthy'man, who had taken
an interest in me ever since he had seen me, cut away
amongst the hussars of Saxe-Teschen, told me that
as an amnesty would henceforward place me out of
the reach of all pursuit, he should have much pleasure
in having me under his order. I told him how
glad it would make me ; and he, undertaking to arrange
the affair, I was once more reinstated in the llth.
My old comrades received me with pleasure, and I
was not less pleased to ﬁnd myself once again amongst
them; and nothing was wanting to complete my
happiness, when love, who is always busy, determined
on playing me one of his tricks. It will not be thought
surprising that at seventeen I captivated the house-
keeper of an old gentleman. Manon, for that was '
her name, was near twice my age, but then she loved
me very tenderly, and proved it by making every
sacriﬁce to me unhesitatingly. I was to her taste the
handsomest of chasseurs, because I was hers, and she
wished that I should also be the most dashing. She
had already given me a watch, and I was proud!
adorned with various jewels, proofs of the love with


22 MEMOIRS or vrnocq».
which I had inspired her, when I learnt that Manon
was accused by her master of robbery. Manon con-
fessed the fact, but at the same time, to assure herself
that after her sentence I should not pass into another’s
arms, she pointed me out as her accomplice, and even
asserted that I had proposed the theft to her. It had
the appearance of probability, and I was consequentl
implicated, and should have extricated myself wit
difﬁculty if chance had not brought to light some
letters of hers, which established my innocence.
Manon, conscience-stricken, retracted, I had been
shut up in the house of conﬁnement at Stenay,
whence Iwas set at liberty, and sent back as white
as snow. My captain, who had never thought me
guilty, was delighted at seeing me again; but the
chasseurs could not forgive my being even suspected;
and in consequence of various allusions and comments,
I had no less than six duels in as many days. In the
last I was badly wounded, and was conveyed-to the
hospital, where I remained for a month before I re-
covered. On going out, my oﬁicer, convinced that
these quarrels would be renewed if I did not go away.
for a time, gave me a furlough for six weeks. I went
to Arras, where I was much astonished to ﬁnd my
father in a public employment. As an old baker, he
had been appointed to watch over the supplies of the
commissariat. He opposed the distribution of bread
at a time of scarcity; and this discharge of his duty,
although he performed it gratis, was so offensive, that
he would assuredly have been conducted to the guil-
lotine had he not been protected by citizen (now
lieutenant-general) Souham, commandant of the 2d
battalion of Correze, into which I was temporarily
drafted.
My furlough being out, I rejoined my regiment at
Givet, whence we marched for the county of Namur.
We were quartered in the villages on the banks of
the Meus'e ; and as the Austrians were in sight, not a


MEMOIRS or vrnoco.‘ 23
day passed without some ﬁring on both sides. At the
termination of an engagement more serious than usual,
we were driven back almost under the cannon of
Givet ; and in the retreat I received a ball in my leg,
which compelled me to go again to the hospital, and
afterwards to remain at the depot; and I was there
when the Germanic legion passed, principally com-
posed of a party of deserters, fencing-masters, &c.
One of the chief oﬂicers proposed that I should enter
this corps, offering me the rank of quarter-master.
“ Once admitted,” said he, “ I will answer for you,
you shall be safe from all pursuit.” The certainty
of not being asked for, joined to the remembrance of
the disagreeables of my intimacy with Manon, de-
cided me; I accepted the offer, and the next da was
with the legion on the road to Flanders. No oubt,
in continuing to serve in this corps, where promotion
was very rapid, I should have been made an ofﬁcer,
but my wound opened afresh, with such bad symptoms,
that I determined to ask for leave again, which on
obtaining, I was six days afterwards once more at the
gates of Arras.


24 msiuoins or vinoco.
CHAPTER II.
Joseph Lebon-The orchestra of the guinotine, and the reading
of the bulletin—The aristocrat parrot—()itizeness Lebnn—Ad-
dress to the Sans Culnttes—The apple-woml'n—New brown--
I am im risoned—The jailer Beaupre—The veriﬁcation of the
broth~— . do Bethune—l getl my liberty—Tbs sister of my
liberator—I am made an ofﬁcer—The quarters of StSykester
Capelle—The revolutionary army—The retaking of a vessel—-
M betrothed—A disguise—The pretended pregnancy—l marry
—I am content without being beaten—Another stay at the
Baudets—My emancipation.
ON entering the city, I was struck with the air of
consternation which every countenance wore; some
persons whom I questioned looked at me with con-
tempt, and left me withoutpmaking any reply. What
extraordinary business was being transacted? Pene~
trating the crowd, which was thronging in the dark
and winding streets, I soon reached the ﬁsh-market.
Then the ﬁrst object which struck my sight was the
guillotine, raising its'blood-red boards above the silent
multitude. An old man, whom they had just tied to
the fatal plank, was the victim ; suddenly I heard the
sound of trumpets. On a high place which overlooked
the orchestra, was seated a man, still young, clad in a
Carmagnole of black and blue stripes. This person, whose
appearance announced monastic rather than military
habits, was leaning carelessly on a cavalry sabre, the
large hilt of which represented the Cap of Liberty; 3,
' row of pistols ornamented his girdle, and his hat,
turned up in the Spanish fashion, was surmounted b
a large tri-coloured cockade: I recognised J osep
Lebon. At this moment his mean countenance was
animated with a horrid smile; he paused from beating
time with his left foot; the trumpets stopped; he made
a signal, and the old man was placed under the blade.
A sort of clerk, half drunk, then appeared at the side
of the “ avenger of the People,” and read with a hoarse


mamoms or vrnoco. 1 25
voice a bulletin of the army of the Rhine and Moselle.
At each paragraph the orchestra sounded a chord ;
and when the reading was concluded, the head of the
wretched old man was stricken oﬁ‘ amidst shouts of
“ Vive la republique l ” repeated by the satellites of the
ferocious Lebon. I shall never forget, nor can I
adequately depict the impression of this horrible sight.
Ireached my father’s house almost as lifeless as the
miserable being whose agony had been so cruelly pro-
longed; and then I learnt that he was M. de Mongon,
the old commandant of the citadel, condemned as an
aristocrat. A few days before, they had executed at
the same place, M. de Vieux-Pont, whose only crime
was that of having a parrot, in whose chatterings there
were some sounds like the cry of “ Vive le roi 1 ” The
parrot had escaped the fate of his master; and it was
said that it had been pardoned at the entreaty of the
citizeness Lebon, who had undertaken to convert it.
The citizeness Lebon had been a nun of the abbey of
Vivier: with this qualiﬁcation added to many others,
she was the ﬁtting consort of the ex-curate of ‘Neu-
ville, and exercised a powerful inﬂuence over the
members of the commission at Arms, in which were
seated, as judges or jurymen, her brother-in-law and
three uncles. The ex-nun was no less greedy of gold
than blood. One evening at the theatre, she ventured
to make this address to the crowded auditory :—
“'Ah, Sans Culottes, they say it is not for you that the
guillotine is at work! What the devil, must we not
denounce the enemies of the country? Do you know
any noble, any rich person, any aristocratical shop~
keeper ? Denounce him and you shall have his money-
bags.” The atrocity of this monster was only equalled
by that of her husband, who abandoned himself to the
greatest excesses. Frequently after his orgies he was
seen running through the city making bestial propo-
sitions to one young person, brandis ' g a sabre over
another’s head, and ﬁring/ pistols in the ears of women
and children.
n


26
MEMOIRS OF VIDOCQ.
An old apple-woman, with a red cap and sleeves
tucked up to the shoulders, carrying a long stick of
hazel-wood, usually attended him in his walks, and
they were frequently met arm-in-arm together. This
woman, called mother Duchesne, in allusion to the
famous father Duchesne, ﬁgured as the Goddess of
Liberty in several democratic solemnities. She regu-
larly assisted at the sittings of the commission, for
which she prepared the arrests by her speeches and
denunciations. She thus brought to the ' lotine all
the inhabitants of one street, which was eft entirely
desolated. ,
I have often asked myself how, in the midst of such
deplorable scenes, the taste for pleasure and amuse-
ment lost none of its relish. The fact is, that Arras
continued to offer to me the same dissipations as ever;
the ladies were as accessible; and I was easily con-
vinced of that, as in a very few days I rose gradually
in my amours from the young and pretty Constance,
only child of corporal Latulipe, canteen-kee er of the
citadel, to the four dau hters of a notary, w 0 had an
oﬂice at the corner of t e Rue des Capucines. Lucky
should I have been had I conﬁned myself to that, but
I began to pay my homage to a beauty of the Rue de
la Justice; and one day I met In rival in my walks.
He, who was the old musician o the regiment, was
one of those men who, without boasting of the success
which they have obtained, hint in plain terms that
they have experienced refusals. I c arged him with
boastin in this way, and he became enraged; I pro-
voked im the more, and the more angry he grew:
I had forgotten my own cause of anger with him,
when I remembered that I had good grounds of offence.
I demanded an explanation, which was useless; and he
only consented to meet me after I had inﬂicted on
him the most degrading humiliation. The rendezvous
was ﬁxed for the next morning. I was punctual; but
scarcely had I arrived when I was surrounded by a
troop of gendarmes and police ofﬁcers, who demanded


MEMoms or vrnocq. 27
my sword and ordered me to follow them. I obeyed,
and was soon enclosed within the walls of the
Baudets, whose use had been changed since the ter-
rorists had put the population of Arras in a state of
periodical decapitation. The jailor, Beaupré, covered
with an enormous red cap, and followed by two large
black dogs, who never quitted him, conducted me to a
vast garret, where he held in his keeping the principal
inhabitants of the country. There, deprived of all
communication from without, they scarcely received
nourishment, and not even that until it had literally
been overhauled by Beaupré, who carried his precau-
tion so far as to lunge his ﬁlthy dirty hands in the
broth, to assure himself that there were no arms or
keys. If anybody complained, he said to him, “ Um hi
you are very difﬁcult to please for the time you have eft
to live. How do you know that it will not be your turn
tomorrow? Oh, by the way, what is your name ? “—
“ S0 and so.”-—-“ Ah! by my faith it is your turn tomor-
row 1 ” And the predictions of Beaupré were the less
likely to fail as he himself pointed out the individuals
to Joseph Lebon, who, after his dinner, consulted him
saying, “ Who shall we bathe tomorrow?”
Amongst the gentry shut up with us was the count
de Bethune. One morning they sent for him to the
tribunal. Before leading him out to the fore court,
Beaupré said to him abruptly, “Citizen Bethune, since
you are going down there, am not I to have all you leave
behind you P”—-“ Certainly, M. Beaupré,” answered
the old man tranquilly. “ There are no misters now,”
said the grinning wretch of a jailor, “we are all citi-
zens;” and at the gate he again cried out to him,
“ Adieu, citizen Bethune l” M. de Bethune was however
acquitted. He was brought back to prison as a sus-
pected person. His return rejoiced us all; we thought
him saved, but the next day he was in called up.
Jose h Lebon, during whose absenceabhia' sentence of
acquittal had been passed, arrived from the countr :
furious at being deprived of the blood of so wort y


28 mamoms or vrnoco.
a man, he had ordered the members of the com-
mission to assemble immediately, and M. de Bethune,
condemned at the next sitting, was executed by
torchlight.
This event, which Beaupré announced to us with
ferocious joy, gave me serious uneasiness: every day
they condemned to death men who were ignorant
even of the cause of their arrest, and whose fortune
or situation in society never intended them for poli-
tical commotion : and on the other hand, I knew that
Beaupré, very scrupulous as to the number, thought
not of the quality; and that frequently, not seeing
immediately the number of individuals pointed out,
sent the ﬁrst who came to hand, that the service of
the state might suffer nothing from delay. Ever
moment then might place me in the clutch of Beaupre,
and you may believe that this idea was not the most
satisfactory in the world.
I had been already detained sixteen days, when a
visit from Joseph Lebon was announced; his wife
accompanied him, and he had in his train the princiPal
terrorists of the country, amongst whom I recognised
my father’s old barber, and an emptier of wells,
called Delmotte, or Lantilette. I asked them to say
a word for me to the representative, which they
promised; and I augured the better of it/as they were
both in good estimation. HoWever, Joseph Lebon
went through the rooms, questioning the prisoners in
a brutal manner, and pretending to address them with
frightﬁil harshness. -' When he came to me, he stared
at me, and said in a tone half severe and half jesting,
“ Ah! ah! is it you, Francois? What, you an aristo-
crat,—you speak ill of the Sans Culottes,—you regret
your old Bourbon regiment,—take care, for I can send
you to be cooked (guillotined.) But send your mother
to me.” I told him, that being so strictly immured
(nu secret) I could not see her. “ Beaupre,” said he
to the jailer, “let Vidocq’s mother come in ;” and went
away, leaving me full of hope, as he had evidently


manoms or vrnoco. 29
treated me with marked amenity. Two hours after-
wards I saw my mother, who told me what Iknew
not before, that the musician whom I had challenged
had denounced me. The denunciation was in the
hands of a furious jacobin, the terrorist Chevalier, who,
out of friendship to my rival, would certainly have
been much against me, if his sister, at the persuasion
of my mother, had not revailed on him to exert
himself to procure my disc arge. Having leﬁ prison,
I was conducted with great state to the patriotic
society, where the made me take the oath of ﬁdelity
to the republic, an hatred to tyrants. I swore all they
desired. What sacriﬁces will not a man make to
procure his freedom! '
These formalities concluded, I was re laced in the
depot, where my comrades testiﬁed much pleasure at
seeing me again. After what had passed, I should
have been deﬁcient in gratitude had I not looked on
Chevalier as my deliverer; I went to thank him, and
expressed to his sister how much I was touched at
the interest which she had so kindly testiﬁed to a poor
prisoner. This lady, who was the most amorous of
brunettes, but whose large black eyes did not com-
pensate for their ugliness, thought that I was in love
because I was polite; she construed literall some
compliments which I paid her, and from t e ﬁrst
interview, she so greatly misinte reted my sentiments
as to cast her regards upon me. ur union was talked
of, and my parents were questioned on the point, who
answered that eighteen was too young for marriage, and
so the matter went on. Meanwhile battalions were
formed at Arms, and being known as an excellent
driller, I was summoned with seven other subaltem
officers to instruct the 2d battalion of Pas-de-Calais,
to which belonged a corporal of grenadiers of the
regiment of Languedoc, named Caesar, now garde
claampé'tre at Colombre or Pateux, near Paris. He
was our ad'utant ma'or. As for me, I was promoted
to the ran of sub-lieutenant on, arriving at St Syl-
D 2


'30 ~maiuoms or \‘lDOCQ.
vestre-Capelle, near Bailleul, where we quartered-
Caesar had been fencing-master in his own regiment,
and my prowess with the advanced guard of Kinski’s
cuirassiers was well known. We resolved to teach
the practice as well as the theory of fencing to the
ofﬁcers of the battalion, who were much pleased at
such an arrangement. Our lessons produced us some
money, but not enough for our wants, or if' you please,
the desires of men of our abilities. It was particularly
in good living that we were found wanting. What
increased our regrets and a petites was, that the
mayor with whom we lodged my comrade and I) kept
an' excellent table. We sought in vain the means of
increasing our supplies; an old domineering servant,
named Sixca always defeated our intentions, and dis-
turbed our gastronomic plans. We were disheartened
and starving.
At length Cwsar found out the secret of breaking
the charm which kept us from the table of the muni-
cipal functionary. At his suggestion, the drum-major
came one morning to beat the morning call under the
mayor’s windows. Judge of the disturbance. It may
be surmised that the old Maegara did not fail to
request an intervention in putting a stop to this
uproar. Caesar promised wit a mild air to use all
his inﬂuence to put a stop to the noise, and then ran
to beg the drum-major to renew the cause of com-
plaint ; and the next. morning there was arow suﬁicient
to awaken the dead from the adjacent church-yard;
and at length, not to do things by halves, he sent the
drum-major to practice with his boys at the back of
the house ; a pupil of the abbé Sicard could not have
endured it. The old woman'came to us, and invited
the cunning Cwsar and me very graciously; but that
was not enough. The drummers continued their
concert, which only concluded when their respectable
chief was admitted, as well as ourselves, to the muni-
cipal banquet. From that time no more drums were'
heard at St Sylvestre-Capelle, except when detachments


msmoms or vrnocm .31 '
were passing by, and everybody was at peace except
myself, whom the old woman began to threaten with he!
obliging favours. This unfortunate passion brought on a
scene which must still be remembered in that part of
the country, where it made much noise at the time.
It was the village feast, dancing, singing, drinking
went on; and I bore my part so ably that they were
compelled to lead me to bed. The next day I awoke
before daybreak: as after all similar orgies, I had a
giddy head, my mouth parched, and m stomach
disordered; I wanted something to drin ; and on
rising I felt a hand as cold as a well-rope encircling
my neck; m head was still wandering and weak from
the over-nig t’s debauch, and I shrieked out lustily.
The mayor, who slept in an adjoining chamber, ran'
with his brother and an old servant, both armed with
cudgels. Czesar had not returned, and reﬂection had
convinced me that the nocturnal visitor could only be
Sixca; and pretending to be greatly alarmed, I told
them that some hobgoblin had come to my side, and
had glided out at the foot of the bed. They then
laid on several blows withvtheir sticks; and Sixca, _
perceiving that she would soon'be killed, cried out
“ Gentlemen, do not strike, it is I—it is Sixca. Iwalked
in my sleep to the ofﬁcer’s bed.” At the same time
she showed her head, and did well; for although they
recognised her voice, yet the superstitious Flemings
were about to renew the application of the bastinado.
As I have said, this adventure, which almost realizes
certain scenes of “My Uncle Thomas,” and “ The
Barons of Felsheim,” made much noise throughout the
place. It spread even to Cassel, and procured me
many intrigues. I had, amongst others, one with a.
pretty bar-maid, whom I should not allude to if she
had not ﬁrst taught me, that at the counter of some
coffee-houses a good-looking fellow may get change
for cash which he has not paid. '
We had been quartered for three months when the
division was ordered to Stinward. The Austrians had


32, ’ME‘Moms or vrnoco.
given tokens of an intention to proceed to Poperingue,_
and the 2d battalion of the Pas-de-Calais was placed in the
ﬁrst rank.v The night after our arrival the enemy surprised
our outposts, and penetrated to the village of Belle,
which we occupied, and we formed in battle array
in the greatest haste. In this nocturnal maneuvre
our young recruits evinced that intelligence and alac-
rity which are only to be found in Frenchmen. About
six o’clock in the morning, a squadron of Wurmser
hussars debouched on our left, and charged us with-
out'being able to break through our ranks. A column
of infantry which followed them, attacked us at the
same time with the bayonet; and it was only after
a brisk encounter that our inferiority of numbers
compelled us to fall back upon Stinward, our head-
quarters. =
On arriving there I received the congratulations of
general Vandomme, and a billet for the hospital of
St Omer, for I had had two sabre cuts in ﬁghting
with an Austrian hussar, who was killed whilst crying
"‘ Er ‘b die/z! ergib dick! (surrender, surrender.)”
Méyzwounds were not very severe, since at the end
of _two months I was enabled to rejoin the battalion
which was at Hazebrouek. I then saw the strange
corps called the Revolutionary Army.
The men with pikes and red caps, who composed it,
took with them everywhere the guillotine. The conven-
tion had not, they said, found an better way of secur~
ing the ﬁdelity of the ofﬁcers 0 the fourteen armies
which it had on foot, than by placing before their eyes
_theiinstrument of punishment reserved for traitors.
All that I can say is, that this mournful sight almost
killed with fear the inhabitants of the country through
which it assed. It did not much ﬂatter the military,
and we liad man quarrels with the' Sans-culottes,
who were called t e body guard of the guillotine. I
beat one of the party, who took upon himself to cen-
sure my gold epaulettes, when the regulation onl or-
dered _those of worsted. My ﬁne array would ave_


namoms or vmoco. ' 33
brought misfortune on me, and I ‘ should have paid
dearly for my disregard of the sumptuary law, if' I had
not been allowed to start for Cassel, where I was joined
by my battalion, which was then arrayed like the other
regiments: these ofﬁcers became plain soldiers, and it
was in that capacity that lwas directed to enter the
28th battalion of volunteers, which formed part of the
army destined to drive the Austrians from Valen-
ciennes and Condé.
The battalion was quartered at Fresnes. In the farm
house in which I was billeted, there arrived one day
the whole family of a pilot, consisting of the husband,
wife, and two children, one of whom was a girl of
eighteen, who was remarkably handsome. The Aus-
trians had taken the boat, laden with grain, which was
their whole fortune; and these poor people, reduced to the
garments which covered them, had no resource left but
to take refuge with my host, their relation. This cir-
cumstance, their pitiable condition, and the beauty of
the young girl Delphine, touched my heart.
During a foraging party, I discovered their boat,
which the enemy were only gradually unlading and
measuring out. I proposed to a dozen of my com-
rades to carry off the spoils from the Austrians. They
acceeded to the proposition; our colonel gave his con-
sent; and on a. stormy night, we approached the vessel
without being observed by the ofﬁcer in charge, whom
we despatched to feed the ﬁsh of the Escaut with ﬁve
strokes of the bayonet. The wife of the pilot, who
would follow us, instantly ran for a bag of ﬂorins
which she had concealed in the grain, and gave them
to my charge. We then loosened the boat, to let it
ﬂoat to a point where we had an entrenched post, but
at the moment it got into the stream, we were sur-
prised by the challenge of a guard, whom we had not
observed amongst the bulrushes which concealed him.
At the report of his gun which accompanied his second'
call to us, the next piquet ﬂew to arms, and in a mo-
mcnt the bank was covered with soldiers, who ﬁred a


34 MEMOIRS or VIDOCQ.
shower of balls at the boat, which we were compelled
to quit. My comrades and I cast ourselves on a sort
of raft which we had, and the woman did the same;
but the pilot, forgotten in the confusion, or stopping
with a hope of escape, was taken by the Austrians,
who were not sparing of their blows and kicks. This
experiment had besides lost us three men, and I had
two ﬁngers broken by a musket ball. Delphine loaded
me with caresses. Her mother having set out for
Ghent, where she knew her husband had been sent as
prisoner of war, we betook ourselves to Lille. I there
, passed my time of convalescence. As Delphine had a
portion of the money found in the rain, we led a very
pleasant life. We talked of marriage, and the affair
was so far arranged that I started one morning for
Arras, whence I was to return with the licence and
my parents’ consent. Delphine had already pro-
cured that of her parents, who were still at Ghent.
A league/from Lille, I remembered that I had for-
gotten my hospital billet, which it was indispensably
necessary to produce before the municipality of Arras,
and I returned for it. Arrived at the hotel, I went to
the room we occupied and knocked ; no one answered.
It was impossible that Delphine could be out so early,
it being scarcely six o’clock.‘ I knocked again, and
Delphine opened the door, stretching her arms and
rubbing her eyes like some one who has been suddenly
awakened. To prove her, I proposed that she should
go with me to Arras, that I might present her to my
parents, and she very tranquilly agreed. My suspicions
were disappearing, and yet something whispered to me
that-she was deceiving me. I at len th perceived that
she frequently glanced towards t e wardrobe. I
pretended a desire to open it, which my chaste be-
trothed opposed, and gave me one of those excuses
which a woman always has ready. But I was deter-
mined; and at length opened the closet, where I
found concealed, beneath a heap of dirty linen, the doc-
tor who had attended me during my convalescence.


mzmoms or VIDOCQ- 35‘
Hewas old, ugly, and misshapen. The ﬁrst feeling was
the humiliation of having such a rival; and yet I should
have been more enraged at ﬁnding a good looking
fellow, but this I leaVe for the decision of 'the numerous
lovers who have been similar] circumstanced. As for
me, I wished to begin by knocking out the brains of the
intriguing Esculapius, but (which seldom happened
to me) reﬂection restrained me. We were in a town
'of war, where they might play me some trick about my
leave of absence. Besides vDelphine was not my wife;
I had no right over her. I determined on kicking her
out ; after which, I- threw her from the window her
clothes, and money enough to take her to Ghent. I
allowed myself to retain the remainder of the money,
which I thought I' had lawfully acquired, since I had
directed the splendid expedition which had rescued
it from the clutch of the Austrians. Iforgot to say
that I allowed the doctor to return unmolested.
Having got rid of my faithless she, I determined on
remaining at Lille, until the time of my furlough
should expire; but it is as easy to conceal ourself in
this cityas 'at Paris, and my residence would'have been
undisturbed but far an' affair of gallantry of which I’
shall spare the details. It will sufﬁce to say, that being
arrested in female attire, at the moment 'I was ﬂying
from the rage of a jealous husband, I was taken to
the police ofﬁce, where I at ﬁrst obstinater refused to
give any account of myself; for in fact, by speaking,
should either destroy the female who had been kind
to me, or announce myself as a deserter. Some hours
conﬁnement changed my resolution; a superior oﬂicer
to whom [had appealed to receive my declaration,
and to whom I candidly stated the facts, seemed to
take some interest for me. The commandant-gene-
ral of the division wished to hear from my own lips
this recital, which made him laugh to excess. He then
gave orders that I should be set at liberty; and caused
a line forthwith to be given to me to rejoin the 28th


36 MEMOIRS or vwoco.
I
battalion at Brabant: but instead of followimg this
destination, I went to Arras, determined only to enter
the service again at the last extremity.
My ﬁrst visit was to the patriot Chevalier. His in-
ﬂuence with Joseph Lebon made me hope that I should
obtain through his interest an extension of leave,
which he procured for me, and I was again introduced
to the family of my benefactor. His sister, whose
kind intentions towards me are already known, re- .
doubled her kindness; and on the other hand, the habit
of seeing her daily familiarised me with her ugliness;
in short, matters came to such a point that I was
not at all surprised to hear her one day declare that
she was pregnant. She made no mention of marriage,
not even pronouncing the word; but 1 saw but too
clearly that to this complexion it must come at last,
lest I should incur the vengeance of her brother, who
would not have hesitated to denounce me as an aris-
tocrat, and moreover a deserter. My parents, struck
with all these considerations, and conceiving the ho )e
of keeping me near them, gave their consent to the
marriage, which ,the Chevalier family were very anxious-
about. It was at last settled, and I became a husband
at eighteen years of age. I thought myself also almost
the father of a family, but scarcely had a few days
elapsed, when my wife confessed that her pretended
pregnancy was the result of a plan to induce me to
marry her. The excessive satisfaction which such an
avowal gave me may be conceived ; but the same motives
which had decided me on contracting the alliance com-
pelled me to be silent; and I determined to keep my
own counsel, enraged as I was. A mercer’s sho
which my wife had opened turned out very badly;
thought that I found the cause of it in the repeated
abSence of my wife, who was all day at her brother’s.
I made my observations; and received orders to rejoin
my regiment at Toumai. I might have complained of
this expeditious mode of getting rid of a troublesome


. MEMOIRS or vrnocQ. 37
husband; but I was so much tired of the yoke of
Chevalier, thatI resumed with joy my uniform, which
I had cast off with so much pleasure.
At Tournay, a veteran ofﬁcer of the Bourbon regi-
ment, then adjutant-general, attached me to his ofﬁce
as a deputy, and particularly in the serving out of
clothing. Business soon demanded that a man of trust
should be dispatched to Arras. I set out post, and
arrived in the city at eleven o’clock at night. As I
was charged with orders, the gates were opened to me,
and by an impulse for which I cannot account, I was
induced to run to my wife’s abode. I knocked for a
long time, and no one answered. A neighbour, at
length, opened the door, and I ran up stairs with all
s eed to my wife’s chamber. On approaching, I heard
tiie clank’ of a falling sabre, then a window opened,
and a man leaped out into the street. It is needless
to say that they had recognised my voice. I-went'down
stairs with great haste, and soon overtook my Love-
lace, in whom I recognised an adjutant-major of the
17th horse chasseurs, quartered at Arras. - He was
half naked; I led him back to my eon'ugal domicile,
when he ﬁnished his toilette, and we t en separated,
on agreeing to ﬁght the next day.
This scene had roused the whole neighbourhood.
The greater part of the people, assembled at theirwin-
dows, had seen me seize on the guilty adjutant, who
had been found guilty of the fact in their presence. I
had no lack of ,witnesses to prove and obtain the
divorce, and that was what I intended to do; but the
family of my chaste wife, who were desirous of keep-
ing a protector for her, exerted themselves to check
my measures, or‘ at least to aralyze them. The next
day, before I could meet t e adjutant~majbr, I was
arrested by the police and by gendarmes, who spoke
of placing me in the Baudets. Fortunately for me, I
plucked up courage, as I saw that there was nothing
discouraging in my situation: I demanded to be car-
ried before Joseph Lebon, which could not be denied
VOL. 1. E


38 MEMOIRS or vmocq.
me. I appeared before the representative of the peo-
le, whom I found surrounded by an enormous pile of
letters and pa ers—“ What, is it you,” said he to me,
“who come ere without permission—and for mal-
treating your wife too ?" I saw what course I should
pursue, I produced my orders, I called for the testi-
mony of my neighbours against mwaife, and that of the
adjutant-major himself, who could not gainsay the
facts. Indeed, I so clearly explained the aﬂ'air, that
Joseph Lebon was forced to confess that the wrongs
were not of my committing; but out of regard, how-
ever, to his friend Chevalier, he made me promise
not to remain long at Arras ; and as I feared the wind
might veer against me, as I had seen it with many
others, I undertook to comply with his request as
romptly as possible. Having completed my mission,
I bade farewell to all my friends, and the next morn,-
ing found me on the road to Tournay.
CHAPTER III.
R " -at B. ‘ {,‘oﬂ'eeL The basil ' gen-
dsrmes-A forget—The roving army-_The barouess and the
baker boy—The disappointment—Arrival at Paris—A gay
lady—Mystiﬁcation.


I DID not ﬁnd the adjutant-general at Tournay, he
had set out for Brussels, and I set out on the follow-
ing day by the diligence to join him there. At the
ﬁrst glance, I recognised amongst the travellers those
individuals whom I had known at Lille, as passing the
whole day at the public-houses, and \ living in a very
suspicious manner. To my great astonishment, I
found them clothed in uniforms of different regiments,
one having the epaulettes of lieutenant-colonel, the
others those of captain or lieutenant. How can they


MEMOIRS or vrnocq.’ 3
have got them, thought I, for they have never seen
service. I was lost in conjecture. On their side,
they appeared at ﬁrst much confused at the rencontre ;
but soon recovering,'they testiﬁed a mutual surprise
at ﬁnding me only a plain soldier. When I had ex-
plained to them how the regulation of the battalion
ad deprived me of my rank, the lieutenant-colonel
promised me his protection, which I accepted, although
scarcely knowing what to think of my protector. I
saw clearl , however, that he had plenty of money,
and paid or all at the table d’hote, where he testiﬁed
a violent republican feeling, at the same time affecting
to have sprung from an ancient family.
I was not more fortunate at Brussels than at Tour-
nay; the adjutant-general, who seemed to fly from
me, had gone to Liege, for which place I set out, rely-
ing on not taking an useless journey this time; but
on arriving, I learnt that my man had taken the road
to Paris on the previous evening, having been sum-
moned to appear at the bar of the convention. His
absence would not be longer than a fortnight. I
waited, but no one arrived. Another month passed,
and still no adjutant. My cash was sensibly diminish-
ing, and I resolved on returning to Brussels, where I
hoped to ﬁnd some means of extricating myself from
m embarrassment. .To speak with that candour on
‘ch I pique myself in giving this history of my life,
I must confess that I had begun not to be over scru-
nlous in my choice of these means; my education
had not made me a very precise man in such matters,
and the injurious society of a garrison, which I had
been used to from my childhood, had corrupted a
naturally honorable mind. -
It was then, without doing much violence to m
delicacy, that I saw myself installed, at Brussels, wit
a gay lady of my acquaintance, who, after having been
tronised by general Van-der-Nott, had fallen a little
iiiwer into public society. Idle, as are all who have
but a precarious mode of existence, Ipassed whole


40 memorns or VIDOCQ;
days and nights at the Café Turc or the Café (10 la'
Monnaie, the rendezvous of knights of the post, and
professed gamblers. These fellows spent liberally, and
played the devil’s games; and as they had no osten-
sible means of living, I could not divine how the
managed to carry on the war. A young fellow with
whom I had associated myself, and whomI questioned
on this subject, appeared struck at my inexperience,
and Ihad the greatest difﬁculty in persuading him that
I was really a novice. “ The men whom you see
there every day, and all day,” said he, “ are sharpers;
those who only come once, and do not appear again,
are dupes, who lose their money."
Thus instructed, I made many remarks, which till
then had escaped me, I saw tricks of sleight of hand
almost incredible; and what proved that there was still
something good within me, I was often tempted to tell
the pigeon whom they plucked. What happened to
me will prove that my intentions were guessed.
A party was one evening engaged at the Café Turc;
the dupe (16 game) lost ﬁfty louis, and demanding his
revenge on the next day, went away. Scarcely had
he gone out, when the winner, whom I now see daily in
the streets of Paris, approached me, and said with an
air of simplicity, “ On my word, sir, we have played
with luck, and you were right to bet on me; I have
won ten games, which at four crowns a game, will
make our share ten louis—here the are.” I told
him t at he was mistaken, and that had not inter-
ested myself in his play; he made me no answer, but
put the ten louis into my hand. “ Take it,” said the
young man who had initiated me into these mysteries,
and who was sitting next to me, “ take it and follow-
me.” I obeyed mechanically, and when we reached
the street, my Mentor added, “ They have discovered
that you watch the games, and fear lest you should
blow the concern; and as there are no means of in_
timidating you, because they know that you have a
strong arm and a mischievous hand, they have resolved


msmoms or kuco. 41
on giving you a slice of the cake, so you have a good
means of existence before you, the two coffee-houses
will be milch cows to you, whence you may draw your
four or six crowns a day." In spite of the accommo-
dating propensity of my conscience, I was desirous of
replying, and making some observations—“ You are a
child,” said my honourable friend; “ we do not talk of
robbery here—it is fortune only; and believe me, mat-
ters pass in the drawing-room as they do at the tavern—-
there they bubble, that is the word; and the merchant,
who in the morning whilst at his desk would think it
a crime to rob you of an hour’s interest, would very
quietly cheat you at the gaming-table in the evening."
How could I answer such unanswerable arguments?
I had nothing to reply but to keep the money, which
I did.
These small dividends, joined to a remittance of a
hundred crowns from my mother, enabled me to dash
a little, and to show my gratitude to Emily, whose
devotion to me I was not insensible of. Matters were
in this agreeable train when Iwas one evening arrested
at the Theatre du Parc, by several police-oﬁicers, and
desired to produce my papers. This would have been
a dangerous exhibition, and I said that I had none.
They conducted me to the Madelonettes; and the next
morning, at my examination, I found that I was un-
known, and they had mistaken me for another erson.
I said that my name was Rousseau, born at Li le, and
added, that I had come to Brussels on pleasure, and
had not thought it expedient to provide myself with
papers. I then asked to be conducted to Lille, at my
own expense, by two gendarmes, which was granted,
and for a few crowns my escort agreed that poor
Emily should accompany me.
Having leﬂ'. Brussels, I was so far safe; but it was
still more important that I should not reach Lille,
where I should be certainly recognisedas a deserter. Es-
cape must be made at all risks, and this was Emil‘fs opi-
nion when I communicated my intention to her, and we
'1: 2


42 manoms or vmocq'.
executed our preconcerted plan on reaching Touma .
I told the gendarmes that before they left me at Lil e
the next day, where I should be at once set at liberty,
I wished to treat them with a ood supper. Already
taken with m liberality and mirth, they accepted the
invitation wit much willingness, and in the evening,
whilst they were sleeping on the table, stupiﬁed with
rum and beer, thinking me in the same condition, I
descended by the sheets from the second-ﬂoor window.
Emily followed, and we struck into the cross-roads,
where the would not think of ursuing us. We thus
reached t e suburbs of Notre- ame at Lille, when I
dressed myself in the cloak of the horse-chasseurs,
taking the precaution to put a black patch on my left
eye, which made it impossible to recognise me. But I
did not judge it prudent to remain long in a city so
near my birth-place, and we'started for Ghent. There,
by a rather romantic incident, Emily found her father,
which determined her to return to her family. It is
V true, that she would not consent to part from me, but
with an express stipulation that I should rejoin her as
soon as matters, whichI said called me to Brussels,-
should be arranged. ‘
My business at Brussels was to begin to levy
rates on the Cafe Turc and the Café de la Monnaie.
But to resent myself at this city, I wanted papers
which s uld prove that I was really Rousseau, born
at Lille, as I had said at my examination before I made
my escape. A captain of Belgian carabineers in the
French service, named Labbre, undertook for ﬁfteen
louis to su ply me with the necessary credentials. At
the end ofP three weeks he brought me a copy of my
register of birth, a passport, and a certiﬁcate of half- ,
pay in the name of Rousseau, all done better than I
ever saw them eXecuted by any other forger. Thus
protected, I went to Brussels; the commandant of the
place, an old comrade of Labbre’s, undertook to make
all right.
Quiemd in this particular, I hastened to the Café


manoms or VIDOCQ- 43
Turc. The ﬁrst persons whom I saw in the room
were the pretended ofﬁcers with whom I had travelled.
They received me with acclamation; and judging from
the recital of my adventures that'my situation was
not over splendid, proposed that I should take the
rank of sub-lieutenant of horse chasseurs, doubtless
because 'they saw the cloak I wore. So advantageous
apromotion’was not to be refused; and it was then
conferred on me: and when I said Rousseau was only
an assumed name, the worthy lieutenant-colonel told
me to take any one which I preferred. It was impos-
sible to be more obliging. I resolved on keeping the
name of Rousseau, on which they gave me, not a.
brevet, but a line of route for a sub-lieutenant of the
6th chasseurs, travelling with his horse, and being
entitled to lodgings and rations.
I thus found myself incorpode with the roving
army (armée roulante) composed of ofﬁcers without
brevet, and without troops, and who, furnished with
false certiﬁcates and false lines of march, imposed the
more easily on the commissaries at war, as there was
less method at this period in the military arrange-
ments. It is certain, that during a tour which we
made through the Netherlands, we got all our allow-
ances without the least demur. Yet the roving army
was not then composed of less than two thousand
adventurers, who lived like ﬁshes in water. What is
still more curious is, that they promoted themselves
as rapidly as circumstances would allow: an advance-
ment was the. more proﬁtable, as increase of rank
brought increase of allowances. I passed in this
manner to be captain of hussars; one of my comrades
became chief of a battalion; but what most astonished
me was, the promotion of Auﬁ'ray, our lieutenant-
colonel, to the rank of brigadier-general. It is true,
that if the importance of the rank and the notoriety of
apromction of this kind rendered it more difﬁcult to
keep up the deception, yet the very audacity of such
a step bade deﬁance to suspicion.


44 rumours or vrnocq.
Returned to Brussels, we showed our billets, and
I was sent to a rich widow, the baroness d’I——.
was received in the manner in which all Frenchmen
were welcomed at Brussels at this period—that is,
with open arms. A very handsome bed-chamber was
placed at my sole disposal, and my hostess, delighted
at my reserved conduct, assured me in the most
gracious manner, that if her hours suited me, a place
at her table would always be prepared for me. It was
impossible to resist such pressing politeness, and I
was profuse in my thanks, and I took my seat at her
board the same day with three other guests, who were
ladies, older than the baroness, who was about ﬁfty.
They were all charmed with the prepossessing man-
ners of the captain of hussars. At Paris I should
have felt somewhat awkward in such society, but I
did very well at Brussels for a young man whose
premature introduction to the world had necessarily
injured his education. The baroness doubtlessly
made some such reﬂections, for she paid me such
little attentions as gave me much food for thought.
As I was sometimes absent to dine with the general,
whose invitations I told her it was impossible to
, refuse, she desired me to present him and my other
friends to her. At ﬁrst I was not over desirous of
introducing my associates to the society of this lady,
who saw much company, and might have guests at her
house who might guess our little speculations. But
the baroness insisted on it, and I consented, at the
same time stipulating that the general should only
meet a small party, as he was desirous of keeping up
a sort of incognito. He came; and the baronesss, who
received him with marked attention, seated him near
her, and talked to him for so long a time in an under
tone that I was rather piqued. To disturb this téte-
a-téte, I imagined that it would be a good plan to ask
the general to sing us something, and accompany him-
self on the piano. I knew that he could not make
out a note, but I relied that the usual persuasions


MEMOIRS or vmoco. 45
which guests make on such occasions would at least
occupy his attention for some minutes. My stratagem
only half succeeded; the lieutenant-colonel, who was
of the party, seeing that the general was so much
pressed, kindl offered himself as his substitute, and
accordingly seated himself at the piano, and sung
some little ditties with sufﬁcient taste to procure him
universal approbation, whilst I all the time wished him
at the devil.
At last this interminable evening concluded, and
each person withdrew, I raging with anger and plotting
'revenge'against the rival who I imagined was about
to carry off from me, I will not say the love, but the
kind attentions of the baroness. Full of this idea, I
went to my general at his rising, who was much sur-
prised to see me so early. “ Do you know," said be,
without giving me time to break in upon his conver-
sation, “do you know, my friend, that the baroness
is ” “ Who spoke of the baroness ? ” interrupted
I abruptly, “it is no matter what she is or what she
is not.”—“ So much the worse,” he replied, “if you
are not speaking of her, I have nothing to understand.”
And, continuing/thus to puzzle me for some time, he
ended by telling me that ,his conversation with the.
baroness was concerning me only, and that he had so
far pushed my interest, that he believed that she was
quite disposed to—to marry me.
I at ﬁrst thought that my poor comrade’s head was
turned. That one of the richest women of rank in
the United Provinces would marry an adventurer, of
whose family, fortune, and ancestors she knew nothing,
was an idea that would have staggered the most cre-
dulous. Ought I,- moreover, to engage in a deceit
which must be discovered, sooner or later, and must
ruin me ? Besides, Was I not really and actually
married at Arras ? These objections, and many others,
which the remorse I must experience at deceiving the
excellent woman who had treated me so kindly,


46 nnnroms or vmoco.
excited in my mind, did not for an instant stop my
comrade, who thus answered them :—
“ All you say is very ﬁne, and Iam quite of your
opinion; and to follow my natural bias for virtuous
behaviour, I only want 10,0001. a-year. ’ But I see no
reason for scrupulous in your case. What does
the baroness want? Ahusband, and a husband to
her liking. Are you not that husband ?' Are you
not determined to pay her every attention and to
treat her as a person who is necessary to you, and of
whom you have had no cause to complain? You
talk of the ine uality of your fortunes,--the baroness
thinks not of t at. You only want, to complete the
matter, one single thing—a title of rank, which I will
give you,—yes, I will give it to you! Why do you
stare so? Listen, and do not interrupt me. You must
be acquainted with some young nobleman of your own
age and country; you are he, and your parents have
emigrated and are now at Hamburgh. You entered
France to endeavour to recover a third of the value
of your paternal property, and to carry off the plate
and a thousand double-louis concealed beneath the
ﬂooring of the drawing-room at the breaking out
of the revolution: the presence of some strangers, the
haste of departure, which an arrest issued against
your father would not allow you to delay, has pre-
vented you from getting this treasure. Arrived in
this country, disguised as a journeyman tanner, you
were denounced by the very person who had pledged
himself to aid your enterprise; outlawed by the sen-
tence of the republican authorities, you were nearly
losin your head on the scaffold, when I fell in with
you, ialf dead from inquietude and necessity. An old
friend of the family, I procured for you the brevet of
an ofﬁcer of hussars, under the name of Rousseau,
until an opportunity should offer of rejoining your
noble parents at Hamburgh. The baroness already
knows all this; yes, all, except your name, which, for


MEMOIRS OF VlDOCQ-
appearances? sake, I did not tell her; but in fact,
because I did not know what appellation you might
chuse to assume. That is a conﬁdence which I left
for yourself to communicate.
“ Thus the affair is quite settled, and you are a
gentleman, nothing can be said against that. Sa
nothing to me of your jade of a wife; you were d1-
vorced at Arras under the name of Vidocq, and you
are married at Brussels under the name of count
B Now listen to me. So far our business has
gone on well, but that may be entirely marred at any
moment. We have already met with some very
inquisitive commissaries, and we may ﬁnd others still
less civil, who may cut off our supplies, and send us
to the ﬂeet at Toulon. You understand me, I know.
The best that can happen to you will be to take up
your knapsack and accoutrements in your old regiment,
or else be shot for a deserter; but by marrying you
acquire the means of a splendid life, and will be
enabled to assist your friends. Since we have come
to this point, let us understand each other ;' your wife
has a hundred thousand ﬂorins a-year ; there are three
of us, and you shall give us each a pension of a thou-
sand crowns, payable in advance, and Ishall expect
besides a premium of thirty thousand francs for having
made a count of a baker's son.” I
Iwas quite stupiﬁed: but this haraugue, in which the
general had so skilfully stated all the difficulties of my
situation, overcame all my Opposition, which, to
say the truth, was not very obstinate. I agreed to
everything, and then returned to the baroness. The
count de 13— fell at her feet; and the scene was so
well played, and, though it may be scarcely believed,
I entered so completely into the spirit of my part,
that I even for a moment surprised myself—which I
am told sometimes happens to impostors. The
baroness was charmed at the sallies and sentiment
with which my situation inspired me. The general
was rejoiced with my success, as was every other


48 namoxas or vmoco.
person. Several expressions escaped me which
savoured a little of the canteen, but the general had
told the baroness that political events had caused my
education to be strangely neglected, and this expla-
nation was satisfactory to her. Subs uently, mar-
shal Suchet was no less easily satisﬁed, w en Coignard,
addressing him as “ M. le duque d’Albufera,” excused
himself by the lea, that having emigrated when very
young. he cou d consequently have but a very imper-
fect knowledge of the French language.
We sat down to table and dined in high spirits.
After the dessert the baroness whispered me thus :—
“_I know, my dear sir, that your fortune is in the
hands of the jacobins, and your parents at Hamburgh
may be in some difﬁculty, oblige me by remitting to
them a bill for three thousand ﬂorins, which my
banker will send you tomorrow morning.” I was
about to express my thanks, when she rose from table
and went into the drawing-room. I took the oppor-
tunity of telling the general what had just occurred.
“Well, simpleton,” said he, “do you think you are
telling me any news? Was it not I who hinted to
the baroness that your parents must be in want of
money? We are at this moment your parents,—our
funds are low ; and to run any risk in procuring more,
would be to hazard too foolishly the success of this
adventure; I will undertake to negociate the bill. At
the same time I suggested to the baroness that a
supply of cash was needful for you to make some
ﬁgure before your marriage, and it is understood that
from now untll the consummation of the marriage you
shall have ﬁve hundred ﬂorins a month.” I found
the next day this sum on my dressing-table, where
also was placed a handsome dressing-case and some
trinkets. -
Yet the register of my birth, as count de B
whose name I had assumed, and which the general
wished to procure, thinking that the other credentials
might be forged, did not arrive; but the baroness,


MEMOan or vinoco. 49
whose blindness must appear inconceivable, to those who
are not in a situation to know to what extent credulity
can go, and the audacity of some rogues, consented
to marry me under the name of Rousseau. I had
all the necessary papers to justify my claim to that.
Nothing was wanting but my father’s consent; that
was easily procured through the instrumentality of
Labbre, whom we had under our thumb; but although
the baroness had consented to marrying me under a
name which she knew was not my own, yet she felt
some repugnance at being as it were an accomplice in
a falsehood, for which the only excuse was, that it
saved my head from the block. Whilst-we were plan-
ning a means for avoiding this, we learnt that. the
number of the armée roulante had become so con-
siderable, that the eyes of government were opened,
and that the most severe orders had been issued to
check the abuse. We divested ourselves of uniforms,
believing that we should then have nothing to fear,
but the enquiries were so active that the general was
compelled to set out suddenly for Namur, where he
thought he should be less liable to detection. I ex-
plained his abrupt departure to the baroness, by
attributing it to the general’s having been in fear of a
reprimand for having procured me a commission under
an assumed name. .This circumstance made her very
uneasy for me, and I could only calm her fears by
setting out for Breda, to which place she would ac-
company me. '
I am not very well calculated to play the Senti-
mental, and it would compromise the tact and
ﬁnesse, for which I have some credit, if I made a
parade and fuss, but I may be believed when I say
that so much attachment affected me. The whis ers
of remorse, to which we cannot be always de. at
nineteen, were heard; I saw the abyss into which I
was leading an admirable woman who had been so
generous towards me; I pictured her as driving from
her with horror the deserter, the vagabond, the biga~
s


50 MEMOIRS or VIDOCQ.
mist, the forger'; and this idea determined me to tell
her all. Away from those who had drawn me into this
imposture, and who had just been arrested at Namur,
I decided on the measures I would adopt; and one
evening, after supper, I determined on breaking the
ice; Without detailing my adventures, I told the
baroness, that circumstances which I could not explain
compelled me to appear at Brussels under the two
names by which she knew me, but that neither was
the real one. I added, that events forced me to quit
the Netherlands without the power of contracting an
union which would have ensured my happiness, but
that I should for ever reserve the recollection of the
kindness which she ha so generously evinced for me.
I spoke long, and with an emotion which increased
my utterance and warmth of manner—and I am now
astonished at the facility of my own eloquence when
I think of it—but I feared to hear the reply of the
baroness. Motionless, pale, and with a glazed eye,
she heard me without interruption; then looking at
me with a glance of horror, she rose abruptly and ran
to shut herself up in her room. I never saw her
again. Enlightened by my confession, and by some
words which without doubt fell from me in the em-
barrassment of the moment, she saw all the dangers
from which she had escaped, and unjustly suspected
me perhaps of being even more culpable than I was ;
she might think that she had escaped from some vile
, criminal, whose hands might have been embrued in
blood! On the other hand, if this complication of
disguises might render her more apprehensive, the
spontaneous avowal that I had made was sufﬁcient to
have quelled her fears; and this idea probably took
hold of her, for the next day when I arose, the land-
lord gave me a casket, containing ﬁfteen thousand
francs in gold, which the baroness had left for me
' before her departure, at one o’clock in the morning,
which I was lad to hear of, as her presence would
have vtrouble me. Nothing now detaining me at


Memornsor vxnoco. bl
Breda, I packed my trunks, and some hours after-
wards set out for Amsterdam.
I.have already said, and now repeat, that certain
portions of this adventure may appear unnatural, and
some may call them altogether false, but nothing is
more true. The initials I have given will suﬂice to
explain it to any person who knew Brussels thirty
years ago. Besides, there is nothing uncommon in the
aﬂ'air, nothing more than is read of in the commonest
romance. If I have entered into minute details, it is
not to ensure a melo-dramatic effect, but with the
intention of putting too credulous persons on their
guard against a species of deception more frequently
em 10 ed, and With more success than may be gene-‘
al y thought, in all classes of society; and such is the
aim of these Memoirs. Let them be reﬂected on in
every particular, and who knows but that some ﬁne
morning the duties of attorney-general, judge, gen-
darme, and agent of police, may be discovered to have
become sinecures.
My stay at Amsterdam was very short. Having
converted into cash two bills of those left me by the
baroness, I set out, and on the 2d of March 1796 made
my entrance into the capital, where at a future day
my name was destined to make some noise. I put
up at the hotel du Gaillard-Bois in Rue de l’Echelle,
and ﬁrst employed myself in changing my ducats into
French money, and in selling a quantity of small
jewelle and trinkets, now su erﬂuous to me, as I ‘
resolv on establishing mysel in some village in the
environs, and entering into some business ; but this pro-
ject was not to be realized. One evening, one of those
persons who are always to be found in hotels seeking
acquaintance with travellers, proposed to present me
at a house where there was a party. I unfortunatel
consented, conﬁding in my experience of the Caé
Turc and the Café de la Monnaie ; but I- soon found
that gamblers of Brussels were but bunglers in com-.-
parison with these gentlemen, of whose society I now
L58 RAUY
UNIVERSlTY OF ILLINOIS


52 nnmoras or vrnoco.
formed one. Now the games of chance are better
managed and more equal; but at that time, the police
tolerating those places called etouﬂ‘oirs, they were
not contented with slipping a card or managing the
suits as they liked—sometimes at M. Laﬁtte’s, Messrs
de 8—, jun., and A. de la Rock’s—the knowing
ones had conventional signs so combined that they
must succeed. Two sittings cleared me of a hundred
louis; I had enough to spare still, but it was decreed
that the money of the baroness should soon leave my
company. The destined agent of its dissipation was
a very pretty woman, whom I met at a table d’hote
which I sometimes frequented. Rosine, for that was
her name, at ﬁrst showed an exemplary disinterested-
néss. A month afterwards I was her acknowledged
lever, without having spent anything but for dinners,
theatres, coach-hire, gowns, gloves, ribands, ﬂowers,
&c., all which things cost nothing at Paris, when we
do not pay for them.
More and more enamoured of Rosine, I never left
her. One morning, whilst at breakfast, I found her
thoughtful; I pressed her with enquiries, which she
resisted, and ﬁnished by avowing to me that she was
troubled - about a triﬂe due to her milliner and uphol-
sterer. I offered my services instantly, which were
refused with remarkable magnanimity, and I could not
even learn the names of her two creditors. Many
very excellent people would have left the matter here,
but, like a true knight, I had not a moment’sv restv
until Divine, the waiting-maid, had given me the
desired addresses. From. the Rue Vivienne, where
Rosine lived, who was called madame de Saint Michel,
I ran to the upholsterer, in the Rue de Clery. I told
him the purpose of my visit, and he immediately
overwhelmed me with politenesses, as is usually the
case under such circumstances. He handed me the
bill, which, to my consternation, amounted to twelve
hundred francs; but I was too far gone to recede now.
At the milliner’s the same scene took place, with an


MEMOIRS or vmoco. 53
additional hundred francs; it was sufﬁcient to have
intimidated the boldest, and yet matters had not
reached their climax. Some days after I had paid
the creditors, they brought me jewels to purchase, to
the amount of two thousand francs, and other similar
expenses perpetually occurred. I saw my money ﬂy
away in this way, but fearing that it would not be so
easily replenished, I parted with it less freely from
day to day. However, I went on, and found that at
the end of two months I had spent the moderate sum
of fourteen thousand francs. This discovery made
me serious, and Rosine immediately perceived it.
She guessed that my ﬁnances were getting low.
Women have great tact in this respect, and are but
rarely deceived; and without being exactly cold
towards me, she yet showed a kind of reserve, and
on my manifesting astonishment, she answered me
with singular abruptness, “ that private matters put
her out of temper.” That was a trick, but 1 had been
too deeply a sufferer already by my interference in these
private matters to prefer again to arrange them, and
I advised her with an air of coolness to have patience.
She became only more contemptuous, passed some
days in pouting, and then the storm burst.
At the conclusion of some triﬂing discussion, she
said with a very ﬂippant tone “that she did not
choose to be crossed, and that those who could not
put up with her ways had better remain at home.”
That was plain speaking; but I was weak enough to
appear not to understand her. New presents brought
back a temporary renewal of kindness, which however
could no longer impose upon me Then knowing all
that she could get from my blind infatuation, Rosine
soon returned to the charge for cash for a letter of
credit for two thousand francs, which she had to pay
or go to prison. Rosine in prison! The idea was
insupportable, and I was about to discharge the debt
at once, when chance placed in my way a letter which
opened my eyes.
I 2


54 usuoms or vmocq.
It was from the platonic friend of Rosiue, who Wm
staying at Versailles, and this interesting personage
asked “ when the pigeon would be quite plucked,” that
he might make hls appearance. I intercepted this
agreeable missive in the hands of Rosiue’s porter. I
went to the perﬁdious woman, but she was absent:
and enraged and humiliated at the same time, I could
not restrain myself. I was in the bed-room, and at
one kick I overthrew a stand covered with china, and
a cheval glass was shivered to atoms. Divine, the
waiting-maid, who had followed me, went down on her
knees and begged me to pause from what would cost
me so dear: I looked at her and hesitated, and a rem-
nant of common sense induced me to think that she
was right. I questioned her—and the or girl, who
had always been gentle and attentive, tol me all about
her mistress. It is the more in place to mention her
statement, as the same things occur daily at Paris.
When Rosine met me she had not had anybody for
two months: and thinking me fair game, from the ex_
pensive way I got rid of my money, conceived the
plan of proﬁting by it; and her lover, whose letter I had
intercepted, had consented, and went to Versailles to
stay until my money should be exhausted. It was in
the name of this lover that the proceedings had been
carried on for the bill of exchange which I had for-
merly taken up, and the debts of the milliner and up-
holsterer were equally false.
Although cursing my egregious folly, I was yet as-
tonished not to see the honourable lady, who had so
well tricked me, return. Divine told me that most
probably the porter had told her that I had got the
letter, and that shé would not very speedily appear.
This conjecture was well founded. On learning the
catastrophe which had prevented her from plucking
the last feather from my wing, Rosine had set out in a
hackney-coach for Versailles to re'oin her friend.
The ﬁnery, which she left in her furnished apartments,
was not sufﬁcient to pay for the two months’ lodging


MEMOIRS or vinoco. 55
due to the landlord, who, when I was going out, com-
pelled me to pay for the china and cheval glass which I
ad broken in my ﬁrst transports of anger.
Such violent inroads had dreadfully reduced my
ﬁnances. Fourteen hundred francs alone remained of
the ducats of the baroness! I left the capital with
horror, as it had been so unpropitious to me, and re-
solved to regain Lille, where, knowing the localities, I
might at least ﬁnd resources which I should in vain
seek for at Paris. '
CHAPTER IV.
The gypaies—A Flemish fair—Return to Lille-Another ac unint-
auce—The Bull'seeye—The sentence of punishment—St etel’l
tower—The prisoners—A forgery.
LILLE, as a fortiﬁed and frontier town, oﬁ‘ered great
advantages to all who, like myself, were likely to ﬁnd
there useful acquaintances, either amongst the military
of the garrison, or that class of persons who, with one
foot in France and the other in Belgium, have really
no home in either; and I relied a little on this for re-
covering myself, and my hope was not groundless. In
the 13th chasseurs I met several ofﬁcers of the south,
and amongst the rest a lieutenant named Villedieu,
whom we shall presently hear more of. All these
persons had only known me in the regiment under one
of those noms de guerre, which it was the custom at this
time to 888111118, and were therefore not astonished at
seeing me bear the name of Rousseau. I spent the
day with them at the café or fencing-rooms, but this
was not very lucrative, and I actually began to be in
want of money. At this juncture a visitor of the
café, whom they called Rentier, from his re ilar life,
and who had made me many compliments, 0 which he


56 mamoms or vinoco.
was ver r 'gal to all the world, enquired with
some intzrdstoihto my affairs, and asked me to travel
with him.
To travel was all very well; but in what guality? I
was no longer of an age to engage mysel as Merry
Andrew or valet-de-chambre of monkies and bears,
and nobody would doubtless make me such a propo-
sition; but et it was necessary to know in what
capacity. asked my new protector very mo-
destly what duties I had to perform in his service.
“ I am an itinerant doctor,” said this man, whose
bushy eye-brows and sun-burnt skin gave him a singu-
lar physiognomy; “ I cure secret diseases with an in-
fallible recipe. I cure animals, and lately restored the
horses of a squadron of the 13th chasseurs, whom the
veterinary surgeon had given over.”—“ Well,” said
I to myself, “ once more adoctor.” But there was
no receding: we agreed to start next morning and to
meet at ﬁve in the morning at the gate leading to the
Paris road.
Iwas punctual at the rendezvous, and my friend,
who was equally punctual, seeing my trunk strapped
at the back of a lad, said that it would be useless to
take it, as we should be only three days away, and must
go on foot. At this observation I sent my goods back
to the inn, and we walked on at a brisk rate, having,
as my guide said, to make ﬁve leagues before mid-day.
About this time :we reached a solitary farm-house,
where he was received with open arms and saluted by
the name of Caron, which was strange to me who had
always heard him called Christian. After a few words
the master of the house went into his chamber and
returned with two or three bags of crowns, which he
spread on the table. My friend took them, and ex-
amining them singly with an attention which ap ear-ed
to me affected, put aside one hundred and ﬁ ty and
counted out a like sum for the farmer in different
money, with a premium of six crowns: I understood
nothing of this operation, which was carried on_ in a


manoms or vrnoco. 57
Flemish dialect, of which I understood but very little.
Iwas then much astonished when on leaving the farm,
where Christian had said he would soon return, he
gave me three crowns, saying that I ought to have a
share of the proﬁts. I could not learn what the pro-
ﬁts were, and said so. “ That is my secret,” said he,
with a mysterious air; “ you shall know it at a future
time, if I am satisﬁed with you.” I told him that
he might rely 'on my discretion since I knew nothing,
only that he had changed crowns for another coin.
He told me that this was the only point on which I
ought to be silent, to' avoid difﬁculties, and I therefore
took the money without knowing what was to result
from all this.
For four days we made similar excursions to various
farms, and every evening I touched two or three
crowns. Christian, whom they all called Caron, was
well known in this part of Brabant, but only as a doc-
tor; for, although be everywhere carried on his change
of monies, the conversation was always about healing
man or beast. I found besides that he had a reputa-
tion for removing the charms cast on animals. A pro-
pssal, which he made me as we entered the village of
ervique, initiated me into this species of magic—
“ May I rely on you?” said he to me, stopping
suddenly.—“ Certainly,” said I; “ but for what and
how ?”—“ Listen,»and learn.”
He took from a sort' of game-bag four square
packets made up like those of chemists, and appa-
rently containin some speciﬁcs; he then said, “You
see these four arms, situated at some distance from
each other, you can enter them the back way, taking
care that no one sees them; get into the stable, and
throw into the manger the powder of one of these
packets. Take great care that you are not discovered
—I will take care of the rest.” I objected to this, as
lmight be surprised at the moment I was climbing
the gate and they would seize me, and perhaps put
some awkward questions. I refused point blank, in


58 unnoms or vrnocq.
\
spite of the perspective of the crowns, and all Chris-
tian’s eloquence failed in persuading me. I even said
thatI would quit him at once, unless he would disclose
to me his real condition and the mystery of his ‘ex-
change of money, which seemed to me extremely sus-
picious. This declaration seemed to embarrass him,
and, as we may learn, he endeavoured to draw me oﬂ‘
the scent, in making me a half conﬁdence.
“ My country?” said he, answering my latter ques-
tion, “ I have none., My mother, who was hanged
last car at Témeswar, belonged to a gang of gypsies
Bohemians) who were traversing the frontiers of
ungary and Bannat, where I was born in a village on
the Carpathian mountains. I say Bohemiens that
you may understand, for that is not our proper name,
we call ourselves Romamichels in a language which
we are forbidden to teach to any persons; we are also
forbidden to travel alone, and that is the reason why
We are generally in troops of ﬁfteen or twenty. We
have had a long run through France, curing charms
and spells of cattle, but this business is pretty well de-
stroyed at present. The countryman as grown too
cunning, and we have been driven into Flanders, where
they are not so cunning, and the difference of money
gives us a ﬁner opportunity for the exercise of our in-'
dustry. As for me, I have been at Brussels on private
business which I have just settled, and in three days I
rejoin the troop at the fair of Malines. It is at your
pleasure to accompany me :. you may be HSeful to us.
But we must have no more nonsense now! ”
Half embarrassed as to where I should shelter my
head, and half curious to see the termination of this
adventure, I agreed to go with Christian, without at all
understanding how I could be useful to him. The
third day we reached Malines, whence he told me we
should return to Brussels. Having traversed the city,
we stropped in the Faubourg de Louvain, before a
wretched looking house with blackened walls, furrowed
with wide crevices, and many bundles of straw as sub-


MEMOIRS or vmoco. 59
stitutes for window glasses. It-was midnight, and I had
time to make my observations by the moonlight, for
more than half an hour elapsed before the door was
opened by one of the most hideous old bags I ever
saw in my life. We were then introduced, to a long
room where thirty persons of both sexes were indis-
criminately smoking and drinking, mingling in strange
and licentious positions. Under their blue loose frocks,
omamented'with red embroidery, the men wore blue
velvet waistcoats with silver buttons, like the Andalu-
sian muleteers ; the clothing of the women was all of
one bright colour: there were some ferocious counte-
nances amongst them, but.yet they were all feasting.
The monotonous sound of a drum, mingled with the
bowling of two dogs tied under the table, accom anied
the strange songs, which I mistook for a uneral
psalm. The smoke of tobacco and wood, which
ﬁlled this den, scarcely allowed me to perceive in the
midst of the room a woman who, adorned with a
scarlet turban, was performing a wild dance with the
most wanton postures.
On our entrance there was a pause in the festivity;
the men came to shake hands with Christian and the
women to embrace him, and then all eyes were tumed
on me, who felt much embarrassed at my present situa-
tion. I had been told a thousand strange stories
of the Bohemiens, which did not encrease my com-
fortable feelings: they might take offence at any scru-
ples I should make, and might get rid of me before it
was even known where I had gone to, since no one
could trace me to such a haunt. My disquietude be-
came sufﬁciently apparent to attract the attention of
Christian, who thought to assure me by saying that
we were at the house of the duchess (a title which is
equivalent to that of mother amongst such cOmrades),
and that we were in perfect safety. My appetite de-
cided me on taking my part at the banquet. The gin
bottle was often ﬁlled and emptied, when I felt an in-
clination to go to bed. At the ﬁrst word that I said


60 memoms or vrnoco.
Christian conducted me to a neighbouring closet,
where were already on clean straw several Bohemiens.
It did not suit me to be particular; but I could not
revent myself from asking an patron why he, who
had always before selected such good quarters, had
made choice of so bad a sleeping place? He told me
that in all towns, where there was a house of the R0-
mamichels they were constrained to lodge, under pain
of being considered as a false brother, and as such u-
nished by a council of the tribe. Women and e il-
dren all slept in this military bed; and the sleep which
soon overtook them, proved that it was a familiar
couch. .
At break of day everybody was on foot, and the
general toilet was made. But for their prominent fea-
tures, without their raven-black tresses and that oily
and tanned skin, I should scarcely have recognised my
companions of the preceding evening. The men, clad
in rich jockey holland vests, with leathern sashes like
those worn by the inhabitants of Poissy, and the wo-
men covered with ornaments of gold and silver, as-
sumed the costume of Zealand peasants: even the
children, whom I had seen covered with rags, were
neatly clothed, and had an entirely different appear-
ance. All soon left the house and took different di-
rections, that they might not reach the market place
all together where the country eople were assembling
in crowds. Christian, seeing t at I was preparing to
follow him, told me that he should not haveIneed of me
the whole day, and that I might go wherever I pleased
until evening, when we were to meet at the house
of the duchess. He then put some crowns in my
hand and left me.
' As in our conversation of the previous evening he
had told me that I was not compelled to lodge with
the troop, I began by ordering a bed at the inn. Then,
not knowing how to kill time, I went to the fair, and
had scarcely gone round it four or ﬁve times when I
met face to face an old ofﬁcer of the recruiting bat-


memoms or vmoco. b‘l,
talions, named Malgaret, whom I had known as making
one of the gambling set at the Café Turc at Brussels.
After the ﬁrst salutations, he asked me why I was
staying at Malines. I told him a history, and he was
equally communicative about his travels; and we were
thus content, each thinking that he had imposed on
the other. Having taken some refreshments we re-
turned to the fair, and every part where there was a
crowd I met some of the lodgers of the duchess.
Having told my companion that I had no acquaintance
at Malines, I turned my head that they might not re-'
cognise me, for I did not much care to confess that I
had such friends; but I had too cunning a fox to deal
with. “ Look,” said he to me, looking me full in the
face, “ look at those people who are regarding you so
attentively. Pray do you know them ?” Without
turning my head I replied that I had never seen them
before, and did not even know who the were. “ Who
they are l” replied my companion, .“ will tell you—
suﬁposing you to be ignorant—they are robbers!”—
“ obbersl” I replied. “ How do you know it?”
“In the same way that you shall soon know if you
will follow me, for it is afair bet that we shall not have
far to go without ﬁnding them at work. Come along
-here they are." -
Raising my eyes towards a crowd in front of a me-
nagerie, l perceived one of the false jockeys taking the
purse of a fat grazier, whom we saw the next moment
seeking for it in his pockets : the Bohemien then en-
tered a jeweller’s shop, where were already two of the
pretended Zealand peasants, and my companion as-
sured me that he would not come out Tuntil he had
ilfered some of the jewels that were shown to him.
e then left our post of observation to go and dine to-
gether: and, at the end of the repast, seeing my com-'
panion disposed to talk, I pressed him to tell me pre-
cisely who the people were whom he had pointed out
to me, assuring him that, in spite of appearances, I
o


62 MEMOIRS OF VIDOCQ(
knew but very little of them. He complied, and told
me as follows:
“ It was in the prison (Rasphuys) of Ghent, where
I passed six months, some years since, at the end of a
game at which some doctors (loaded dice) were dis-
covered, that I made acquaintance with two men of
the troop now at Malines. We were in the same cell,
and as I passed myself oﬂ" for an accomplished thief,
they told me, without distrust, all their light-ﬁngered
tricks : and even gave me the minutest details of their
singular existence. These people come from the
country about Moldavia, where a hundred and ﬁfty
thousand of them vegetate, like the Jews in Poland,
without the power of fulﬁlling any ofﬁce but that of
executioner. Their name changes with their change
of country; they are ziguiners in Germany, gypsies in
England, zingari in Italy, gitanos in Spain, and Bohe-
miens in France and Belgium. They thus traverse all
Europe, exercising the lowest and most dangerous
trades. They clip dogs, tell fortunes, mend crockery,
repair saucepans, play wretched music at the public-
house doors, speculate in rabbit-skins, and change f0-
reign money which they ﬁnd out of the usual circu-
lation.
“ They sell speciﬁcs against the illness of cattle, and
to promote the business, they dispatch trusty envoys,
who, under pretences of making purchases, get
into the stables, and throw drugs into the mangers,
which make the cattle sick. They then present them-
selves, and are received with open arms, and knowing
the nature of the malady, they easily remove it, and
the farmer hardly knows how to be adequately grate.
ful. This is not all; for before they quit the farm,
they learn whether the husbandman has any crowns of
such and such a year, or such and such a stamp, pro-
mising to give a premium for them. The interested
countryman, like all persons who but seldom ﬁnd an
opportunity of getting money, spreads his coin before


MEMOIRS or vrnoco. 63
them, of which they invariably contrive to pilfer a por-
tion. What is almost incredible is, that they are seen
to repeat with impunity the same trick frequently, at
the same house. Indeed, what is most villanous of
all in their transactions is, that they proﬁt by these
circumstances, and their knowledge of the localities
of the countr , to point out to burglars the detached
farms in whic there is money, and the means of get-
ting at it, and it is needless to add, that they come in
for their share of the spoil.”
Malgaret gave further details concerning the Bohe-
miens, which determined me on quitting their danger-
ous society as speedily as possible.
He was speaking thus, looking into the street from
time to time from the window near which we were
seated, when suddenly I heard him exclaim, “ Oh, the
devil 1 My friend of the Rasphu s at Ghentl ”—
I looked out, and saw Christian wal ing very fast, and
with an air of busy import. I could scarcely help
exclaiming aloud. Malgaret, proﬁting by the trouble
into which his explanation had thrown me, had not
much difﬁculty in extracting from me how 1 was asso-
ciated with the Bohemiens. Seeing me resolved on
quitting their company, he proposed that I should ac-
company him to Courtrai, where, he said, he had some
e in view. After having taken from the inn the
few things I had brought from the house of the duchess,
I set out with my new associate, but we did not ﬁnd
at Courtrai the friends whom Malgaret had relied on
meeting there, and it was our cash, and not theirs, that
was spent. Despairing of their appearance, we re,-
turned to Lille; Ihad still one hundred francs left,
and Malgaret gambled with them on our mutual ac-
count, and lost them, together with what he had of
his own, and I afterwards learnt that he had confede-
rated with his antagonist to cheat me out of what I
had left. .
In this extremity, I had recourse to my abilities; and
some fencing-masters, to whom I spoke of my situa-


64 unmoms or vrnocq.
tion, gave me a beneﬁt at a fencing-match, which pro-
duced me a hundred crowns. Set up with this sum,
which for a time secured me from want, I frequented
public places, balls, &c. I then formed an intimacy, of
which the circumstances and consequences decided the
destiny of my whole life. Nothing could be more
simple than the commencement of this important epi-
sbde of my history. I met at the Bal de la Montagne
with a young lady, with whom I was soon on good
terms. Francine, for that was her name, appeared
much attached to me, and at every moment made me
protestations of ﬁdelity, which did not, however, pre-
vent her from giving private interviews to a captain of
en ' eers.
one day surprised them snpping at a tavern in the
place Riourt, and transported with rage, I heartin
thumped the astonished pair. Francine, with her hair
hanging loose, ﬂed; but her partner remained, and
making a charge against me, Iwas arrested and con-
ducted to the prison of Petit Hotel. Whilst my trial
was preparing, I was visited by many females of my
acquaintance, who made it a duty to offer me their
consolations. Francine learnt this, and her jealousy
aroused, she dismissed the unfortunate captain, with-
drew the charge against me which she had made at
the same time with his, and beseeching me to receive
her, Iweakly consented. The judges heard of this
fact, which was tortured into a premeditated plan
between me and Francine, and I was sentenced to
three months imprisonment. From the Petit Hotel
I was transferred to St Peter’s Tower, where I ob-
tained a chamber called the Bull’s-eye. Francine
remained with me there for a part of the day, and the
remainder I passed with the other prisoners, amongst
whom were two old seljeant-majors, Grouard and
Herbaux, the latter, son of a boot-maker at Lille,
both condemned for forgeries ; and a labourer, named
Boitel, condemned to six years’ conﬁnement for steal-
ing garden-tools; this latter, who was the father of a


memorns or Vlnoco. 65
large family, was always bewailing his imprisonment,
which, he said, de rived him of the means of working
a small farm, whic he only knew how to turn to ad-
vantage. In spite of the crime he had committed,
much interest wasevinced in his favour, or rather
towards his children, and many inhabitants of his dis-
trict had drawn up and presented petitions in his
favour, which were as yet unanswered, and the un—
fortunate man was in despair, often repeating that he
would give such and such a sum for his liberty.
Grouard and Herbaux, who were in St Peter’s Tower,
waiting to be sent to the gallies, thought they could
get him pardoned by means of a memorial, which they
drew up, or rather plotted together; a plan which was
ultimately so injurious to me.
Grouard began to complain that he could not work
quietly in the midst of the uproar of the common
room, in which were ei hteen prisoners singing, swear-
ing, and quarrelling a]? day. Boitel, who had done
me some little kind oﬁices, begged me to lend
my chamber to the compilers of his memorial, and I
consented, although very unwillingly, to give it up to
them for four hours a day. From the next morning
they were there installed, and the jailor frequently
went there secretly. These comings and goings, and
the mystery which pervaded them, would have awakened
suspicions in a man accustomed to the intrigues of a
prison, but ignorant of their plans, and occupied in
drinking with the friends who visited me, 1 interested
myself but too little with what was going on in the
Bull’s-eye.
At the end of eight days, they thanked me for
my kindness, telling me that the memorial was con-
cluded, and that they had every reason to hope for
the pardon of the petitioner, without sending it to
Paris, from the inﬂuence of the representations of the
people atLille. All this was not very clear to me,
ut I did not give it much attention, thinking it no
business of mine; and there was no occasion for me
6 '2


66 neurons or VIDOCQ.
to concern myself. But it took a turn which threw
blame on my carelessness, for scarcely had forty-eight
hours elapsed after the ﬁnishing of the memorial, when
two brothers of Boitel arrived express. and came to
dine with him at the jailor’s table. At the end of the
repast, an order arrived, which being opened by the
jailor, he cried, “ Goods news by my faith! it is an
order for the liberation of Boitel;” at these words
they all arose in confusion, embraced him, examined
the order, and conwratulated him; and Boitel, who
had sent am; his clothes, go. the previous evening,
immediately eft the prison, without bidding adieu to
any of the prisoners.
Next day, about ten o’clock in the morning, the
inspector of the risons came to visit us; and on the
jailor’s showing im the order for Boitel’s liberation,
he cast his e e over it, said that it was a forgery,
and that he s ould not allow the prisoner to depart
until he had referred to the authorities. The jailor
then said that Boidel had left on the previous even-
ing. The inspector testiﬁed his astonishment that he
should have been deceived by an order signed by per.
sons whose names were unknown to him, and at last
placed him under a guard. He then took the order
away with him, and soon made himself certain that,
independently of the forgery of the signatures, there
were omissions and errors in form which must have
struck any person at all familiar with such papers.
It was soon known in the prison, that the inspector
had placed the jailor under arrest, for having allowed
Boitel to go out under a false order, and I began to
surmise the truth. I desired Grouard and Herbaux to
tell me the whole, observing indistinctly, that the
affair might compromise me; but they swore most
solemnly that they had done nothing but draw up the
memorial, and were themselves astonished at its prompt
success. I did not believe a word of this, but having
no opposing proofs, I was compelled to wait for the
event. The next day I was summoned to the court,


MEMOIRS or vrnoco 67
heibre the judge, and answered, that I knew nothing
of the framing of the forged order, and that I had only
lent my room, as the only quiet place in the prison, for
the preparation of the justiﬁcatory memorial. I added,
that all these facts could be corroborated by the gaoler,
who frequently went into the room during their work,
appearing to be much interested for Boitel. Grouard
and Herbaux were also interrogated, and then placed
in solitary conﬁnement, whilst I returned to my cham-
ber. Scarcely had I entered it, when Boitel’s bed-
fellow came to me, and told me the whole plot, which
I had only before suspected.
Gnouard, hearing Boitel so often repeat that he
would willingly give a hundred crowns to procure his
liberty, had planned with Herbaux the means of get-
ting him out, and they had devised no mode so simple
as that of forging a false order. Boitel was let into
the plot, as may be supp0sed: they only told him, that
as there were many persons to gain over, he must give
four hundred francs. It was then that they applied
for my chamber, which was indispensable for the due
concoction and forging of the order, without being
perceived by the other prisoners; moreover, the gaoler
was in their conﬁdence, to judge by his frequent visits,
and the circumstances which had preceded and followed
the departure of Boitel. The order had been brought
by a friend of Herbaux, named Stoﬁlet. He appeared
besides only to decide Boitel on giving four hundred
francs, which the forgers had persuaded him was to be
shared with me, although I had rendered him no other
service than that of lending my room.
Thus instructed, I at ﬁrst wished the person who
had given me these particulars to make a declaration
of the particulars, but he obstinater refused, saying
that he would not reveal to justice a secret conﬁded to
his oath; and besides, he did not feel desirous of being
knocked on the head by the prisoners for turning nose
‘(pmn' avoir mange le morceau.) ~He dissuaded me_even
rom informing the judge, telling me that I was in no


68 ' MEMOIRS or vmoco.
danger. But on arresting Boitel in the country, and
bringing him to Lille, and putting him in solitary con-
ﬁnement, he named as the aiders and abettors in his
escape, Grouard, Herbaux, Stoﬂiet, and Vidocq. On
this confession, we were questioned at the tower, and I
ersisted in my ﬁrst declaration, although I could
liave extricated m self in a moment, by disclosing all
that Boitel’s bed ellow had told me; but Iwas so
fully convinced that it was impossible to substantiate
any charge against me, that I was thunderstruck when,
at the expiration of my three months, I was prevented
from quitting the pnson by an entry stating me as
arraigned as an “ accomplice in the forgery of authen-
tic and public documents.”

CHAPTER V.
Three escapes—The Ohauﬂ‘eurs—The suicide—The interrogatory
-Vidocq accused of assassination—Sent back on a complaint—
Frtislh escape-Departure for Ostend—The smugglers—Vidocq
re en.
I THEN began to think that this aﬁ'air might turn out
badly for me; but any others tatement without proof
would be more dangerous to me than silence, which it
was now too late to think of breaking. All these
reﬂections affected me so much, that I had a severe
illness, during which time Francine attended me most
carefully. I was scarcely convalescent, when, unable
to support the-state of incertitude in which I found my
aﬂ‘airs, I resolved on escaping, and to escape by the
door, although that may appear a difﬁcult step. Some
particular observations made me choose this method in
reference to any other. The wicket-kee er at St
eter’s Tower was a galley-slave from t e Bagne
(place of conﬁnement) at Brest, sentenced for life.
After the revision of the penal laws and the code of


memoms or vmoco. 69
1791, he had obtained a commutation of six years
conﬁnement in the prison at Lille, where he had made
himself useful to the jailor, who, persuaded that a man
who had passed four years at the Bagne must be as
watchful as an eagle, since he must know every method
of escape, promoted him to the ofﬁce of gate-keeper,
which he thought he could not conﬁde to more trust-
worthy hands. It was, however, on the stupidity of
this prodigy of cunning thatI relied for the success of
my project; and it appeared the more easy to deceive
him, as he was so conﬁdent in his own sagacity. In a.
word, I relied on passing by him under the disguise of
a superior oﬂicer, charged with visiting St Peter’s
Tower, which was used as a military prison, twice as
week. 1
Francine, whom I saw daily, got me the requisite
clothing, which \she brought me in her muﬁl I imme-
diately tried them on, and they suited me exactly.
Some of the prisoners who saw me thus attired
assured me that it was impossible to detect me. I was
the same height as the oﬁicer whose character I was
about to assume, and I made myself appear twenty-
ﬁve years of age. At the end of a few days, he made
his usual round, and whilst one of my friends occupied
his attention, under retext of examining his food, I
disguised myself hastily, and presented myself at the
door, which the gaol-keeper, taking 06' his cap, opened,
and I went out into the street. I ran to a friend of
Francine’s, as agreed on in case I should succeed, and
she soon joined me there. 4 ~
I was there erfectly safe, if I could resolve on
keeping concealied; but how could I submit to a sla-
very almost as severe as that of St Peter’s Tower.
As for three months I had been enclosed within four
walls, I was now desirous to exercise the, activity so
long repressed. I announced my intention of going
out; and, as with me an inﬂexible determination was
always the auxiliary of the most capricious fancy, I
did go. My ﬁrst excursion was safely performed, but


70 MEMOIRS OF VIDOCQ.
the next morning, as I was crossing the Rue Ecre-
moise, a serjeant named Louis, who had seen me dur-
ing my imprisonment, met me, and asked if I was free.
He was asevere practical man, and by a motion of his
hand could summon twenty ersons. I said that I
would follow him; and begging him to allow me to
bid adieu to my mistress, who was in a house of Rue
de l’Hopital, he consented, and we really met Fran-
cine, who was much surprised to see me in such com—
pany; and when I told her that having reﬂected that
my escape might injure me in the estimation of my
judges, I had decided on returning to St Peter’s Tower,
to wait the result of the process. ‘
Francine did not at ﬁrst comprehend why I had
expended three hundred francs, to return at the end
of four months to prison. A sign 'ut hei- on her
guard, and I found an opportunity 0 desiring her to
put some cinders in my pocket whilst Louis and I took
a glass of rum, and then set out for the prison. Having
reached a deserted street, I blinded my guide with a
handful of cinders, and regained my asylum with all
eed.
6PLouis having made his declaration, the gendarmes
and police-ofﬁcers were on the full cry after me; and
there was one Jacquard amongst them who undertook
to secure me if I were in the city. I was not unac-
quainted with these particulars, and instead of being
more circumspect in my behaviour, I affected a ridicu-
lous bravado. It might have been said that I ought
to have had aportion of the premium promised for my
apprehension. I was certainly hotly pursued, as may
be 'udged from the following incident.
.lacquard learnt one day that I was going to dine in
' Rue Notre-Dame. He immediately went with four
assistants, whom he left on the ground-ﬂoor, and
ascended the staircase to the room where I was about
to sit down to table with two females. A recruiting
serjeant, who was to have made the fourth, had not
yet arrived. I recognised Jacquard, who neVer having
seen me, had not the same advantage, and besides my


MEMOIRS or VIDOCQ. 71
disguise would have bid deﬁance to any description of
my person. Without being at all uneasy, I approached,
and with the most natural tone I begged him to pass I
into a closet, the glass door of which looked, on the
banquet-room. “ It is Vidocq whom you are looking
for,” said I; “if you will wait for ten minutes you
will see him. There is his cover, he cannot be long.
When he enters, I will make you ,a sign; but if you
are alone, I doubt if you can seize him, as he is armed,
and resolved to defend himself.”—“ I have my gen-
darmes on the staircase,” answered he, “ and if he
escapes-—--” “ Take care how you place them then,”
said I with aﬂ'ected haste. “ If Vidocq should see
them he would mistrust' some plot, and then farewell
to the bird.”—“ But where shall I place them?"—
“ Oh, why in this closet-rmind, no noise, that would
spoil all; and I have more desire than yourself that he
should not suspect anything.” My commissary was
now shut up in four walls with his agents. The door,
which was very strong, closed with a double lock.
Then, certain of time for escape, I cried to my pri-
soners, “ You are looking for Vidocq—well, it is he
who has caged you; farewell." And awa I went
like a dart, leaving the party shouting for help, and '
making desperate efforts to escape from the unlucky
closet.
Two escapes of the same sort I effected, but at last
I was arrested and carried back to St Peter’s Tower,
where, for greater security, I was placed inla dungeon
with a man named Calendrin, who was also thus
punished for two attempts at escape. Calendrin, who
had known me during my ﬁrst conﬁnement in the pris
son, imparted to me a fresh lan of escape, which he
had devised by means of a ho e worked in the wall of
the dungeon of the galley-slaves with whom we could
communicate. The third night of my detention all
was managed for our escape, and eight of the prisoners
who ﬁrst went out were so fortunate as to avoid


72 manoms or VIDOCQ.
being detected by the sentinel, who was only a short
distance oﬁi
Seven of us still remained, and we drew straws, as
is usual in such circumstances, to determine which of
the seven should ﬁrst ass. I drew the short straw,
and undressed mysel that I might get with greater
ease through the hole, which was very narrow,
but to the great disappointment of all, I stuck fast
without the possibility of advancing or receding. In
vain did my com anions endeavour to pull me out by
force, I was caug t as if in a trap, and the pain of my
situation was so extreme, that not expecting further
help from within, I called to the sentry to render me
assistance. He approached with the precaution of aman
who fears a surprise, and presenting his bayonet to my
breast, forbade me to make the slightest movement.
At his summons the guard came out, the porters ran
with torches, and I was dragged from my hole, not
without leaving behind me a ortion of my skin and
ﬂesh. T orn and wounded as Fwas, they immediately
transferred me to the prison of Petit Hotel, when I
was put into a dungeon, fettered hand and foot.
Ten days afterwards I was placed amongst the
prisoners, through my intreaties and promises not to
attempt again to escape. Up to this time I had lived
with men who were sharpers, robbers, and forgers;
but here I found myself in the midst of most hardened
villains, and of this number was one of my fellow-
townsman, named Desfosseux, a man of wonderful
ingenuity, prodigious strength, and who, condemned
to the gallies from the age of eighteen, had escaped
from the Bagne three times, whence he was to be sent
again with the next chain of convicts. He told all-
his exploits and hair-breadth ’scapes with much cool-
ness, and'said that no doubt “ one day or other the
guillotine would make sausage-meat of his ﬂesh.” In
spite of the secret horror with which this man inspired
me, I took a pleasure in conversing with him of the


MEMOIRS or VIDOCQ. 73
wild life he had led, and what most induced me to make
so many enquiries of him, was that I hoped he would
be able to aid me with some means of escape. With the
same motive, I associated with many individuals im-
prisoned as part of a band of forty or ﬁfty Chauffeurs,
who infested the adjacent districts, under the com-
mand of the famous Sallamhier. They were named
Chopine (called the Nantzman), Louis (of Doua ,
Duhamel (called Lilleman), Auguste Poissard (callid
the Provencal), Caron the younger, Caron the Hump-
back, and Bmxellois (called the Daring), an appellap
tion which he deserved for an act of courage which is
seldom heard of even in bulletins.
At the moment of entering a farm with six of his
comrades, he thrust his left hand through an opening
in the shutter to lift the latch, but when he was draw-
ing it back, he found that his wrist had been caught in
a slip knot. Awakened by the noise, the inhabitants
of the farm had laid this snare, although too weak to
go out against a band of robbers which report had
magniﬁed as to numbers. But the attempt being thus
defeated, day was fast approaching, and Bruxellors saw
his dismayed comrades looking at each other with
doubt, when the idea occurred to him that to avoid
discovery they would knock out his brains. With his
right hand he drew out his clasp knife with a sharp
point, which he always had about him, and cutting off
is wrist at the joint, ﬂed with his comrades without
being stopped by the excessive sin of his horrid
wound. This remarkable deed, w ich has been attri-.
buted to a thousand different spots, really occurred in
the vicinit of Lille, and is well authenticated in the
northern istricts, where many persons yet remember,
to have seen the hero of this tale, who was thence .
called Manchot (or one-armed), executed.
Introduced by so distinguished a. worthy as my
toWnsmau Desfosseux, I was received with open arms
in the circle of bandits, where from morning to night
VOL. I. H


74 MEMUIRS or innocu-
the means of escape was our only theme. Under
these circumstances, as in many others, I remarked
that with prisoners, the thirst for liberty, becoming
the engrossing idea, produced plots inconceivable by
the man who discusses them at his case. Liberty 1—
in this word all is centered, this thought pursues the
prisoner throughout the tedious day, and during the
wintry nights spent in utter darkness, when abandoned
to all the tormenting impulses of impatience. Enter
any prison, you will hear shouts of noisy mirth, you
may almost imagine yourself at a place of entertain—
ment; approach—mouths grin horribly a ghastly
smile, but the e es betray no pleasure, they are stern
and haggard; t is assumed gaiety is forced in its
hideous yells, like that of the jackal, 'which dashes
against its cage, striving to burst the bars.
Well knowing what men they had to guard, our
jailors watched us with a care that marred all our
plans, the only opportunity which gave a chance of
success, however, at last oﬂ‘ered itself, and I seized
on it before my companions, cunning as they were,
had even thought of it. We were about eighteen of
us in the anti-room of the examining judge, where we
had been conducted for the purpose of being interro-
gated, which was guarded by soldiers and two gen-
darmes, one of whom had laid down his hat and
cloak near me, whilst he went to the bar, whither his
companion was also summoned by the ringing of a
hell. I put his hat on my head instantly, and wrap-
ping myself in his cloak, took a prisoner under my
arm as if I was taking him out for a pressing neces-
sity; Iwent to the door, which the corporal of the
guard immediately opened, and we got out once more.
But what could we do without money or papers?
My comrade went into the province, and I, at the
risk of being retaken, returned to Francine, who,
overjoyed at seeing me, determined on selling her
furmture, and ﬂying with me to Belgium. This was


MEMOIRS or VIDOCQ. '75
determined on, when a most unexpected event, attri-
butable only to my incredible carelessness, completely
overthrew our plan.
The night before our intended departure, I met
in the dusk of the evening a woman of Brussels,
named Eliza, with whom I had been on intimate terms.
She embraced me, and begged me to go and sup with
her, and, conquering my weak objections, kept me
with her until the next day. I persuaded Francine,
who had sought me everywhere, that, ursued by
police-ofﬁcers, I had been compelled to take refuge in
a house which I could not quit till daybreak. She
was at ﬁrst satisﬁed; but having by accident disco-
Vered that I had passed the night with a female, her
jealousy burst forth in overwhelming and tearful re-
proaches against my ingratitude, and in her rage she
swore that she would have me arrested. To put me
in prison was certainly the best mode of putting a stop
to my inﬁdelities ; but Francine was a woman of her
Word, and I deemed it prudent to allow her anger to
evaporate, intending to return after some time, and
start with her as we had agreed on. However, as I
needed my clothes, and did not wish to ask for them,
for fear of a fresh burst of temper, I went alone to our
chamber, of which she had the key, and forcing a
shutter, I took out what I wanted, and left the house.
At the end of ﬁve days, clothed like a countryman,
Ileft the place I had inhabited in the suburbs, and
going into the city, I went to the house of a seam-
stress, a friend of Francine’s, on whose mediation I,
relied for reconciling us. This woman seemed so
greatly embarrassed, that fearing I should implicate
her, Ionly begged her to go and seek my mistress.
“ Yes,” said she, with a very remarkable air, and
without looking at me. She went out, and I was left
alone to reﬂect on my strange reception.
A knock at the door was heard, which I hastened
to open, thinking that I should receive Francine in
my arms, when, a crowd of gendarmes and pohce~


76 M amoms or vrnocq.
ofﬁcers appeared, who seizing me, I was carried before
the magistrate, who began by asking me where I had
been during the last ﬁve days. M answer was brief,
asz never implicated those who sheltered me. The
magistrate observed, that my obstinacy in refusing him
any explanation would go “much against me, and that
my head was in jeopardy, &c. &c. I only laughed, as
imagining this remark to be a trap to force me to con-
fess through fear. I persisted in my silence, and was
remanded to the Petit Hotél.
Scarcely had I set foot in the street, when all eyes
were ﬁxed on me. People called to each other and
whispered, which I thought was caused by my dis-
guise, and I scarcely heeded it. They made me enter
a cell, where I was left alone in the straw heavily
ironed. At the end of two hours the jailor came,
who, pretending to pity me, and take an interest in
me, told me that my resolution not to confess where
I had spent the last ﬁve days, would injure me in the
estimation of the judges; but I was immoveable, and
two more hours elapsed, when the jailer returned with
a turnkey, who took oﬂ' my fetters, and desired me to
go down to the oﬂice, where two judges were in at- '
tendance. Iwas again questioned, and made a similar
reply, and they then strip ed my clothes entirely off;
and stamped on my rig t shoulder a blow that
would have killed an ox, which was to mark me; my
clothes were taken away, after being described in the
proces-verbal; and I was sent back to my cell, covered
with a shirt of sail-cloth, in a surtout half black and
half grey, in rags, which had served at least two
generations of prisoners.
All this gave me food for reﬂection. It was evident
that the seamstress had denounced me, but for what?
She had no complaint to make of me. In spite of her
fury, Francine would have reﬂected twice, before she
denounced me; and if I had withdrawn for some days,
it was rather because I did not wish to irritate her by
my presence, than from any fear of consequences.


\MEMOIRS or VIDOCQ. '77
Why these reiterated inquiries, these mysterious words
of the jailor, and this description of my attire ? I was
lost in a labyrinth of conjecture, and for twenty-ﬁve
hours I was kept in the strictest‘solitary conﬁnement;
Ifthlen underwent an examination which informed me
o a l.
“ What is your name?”
“ Eugene Francois Vidocq.”
“ What is your profession?”
“ Military.”
“ Do you know the girl Francine Longuet ?”
“ Yes; she is my mistress.”
“ Do you know where she is at this moment P ”
“ She should be at a friend’s house, for she sold her
own furniture.” >
“ What is the name of this friend?”
“ ~Madame Bourgeois.”
“ Where does she live?”
“ At a baker’s in the Rue St André.”
“ How long had you left the woman Longuet when
you were arrested ?”
“ Five days.”
“ Why did you leave her?”
“ To avoid her anger ; she knew that I had passed
the night with another female, and in a ﬁt of jealousy
threatened to have me arrested.”
“ Who was the woman with whom you passed the
night ?”
“ A former mistress.”
“ What is her name 2”
“ Eliza—I only know her by that name.”
“ Where does she live?”
“ At Brussels, whither, I believe, she has returned.
“ Where are the things which you had in the house
of the woman Longuet ‘9”
“ In a place that I can point out if need be.” _
“ How could you get them, having quarrelled With
her, and not wishing to see her?”
“ Alter our quarrel in the café,where ghe found
11


78 menoms or vrnocq.
me, she threatened to call for the guard to seize me:
knowing her perverseness, I ran down the bye streets,
and reached the house before her, which I had hopet!
to do, and wanting some clothes, I forced a shutter
to effect my entrance, and then took out what I wanted.
You just now asked me where these things are, and
I will now tell you, they are in the Rue Saint-Sauveur,
at the house of Duboc, who will corroborate this.”
“ You do not speak truth—before you lett Francine
at her house, you had a great quarrel; it is said that
you struck her.” '
“ That is false; I did not see Francine at her oWn
home aﬁer the quarrel, and consequently I could not
have maltreated her. She can corroborate this.”
“ Do you know this knife ?”
“ Yes; it is the one I generally use at my meals.”-
"‘ You see the blade and haft are covered with blood.
Does not the sight of it make any impression on
you ? You are agitated!” 1
“ Yes,” I replied with emotion; “ but what has
happened to Francine? Tell me, and I will give every
possible explanation.”
“ Did nothing particular happen to you when you
carried off your clothes?” -
“.Nothing that :I can at all call to mind.”
“ You persist in your declarations ?”
“ Yes.” ' ,
“ You are imposing on justice ;—that you‘may have
time for reﬂection on your position, and the conse-
quences of your obstinacy,>I shall now delay the re-
mainder of your examination until tomorrow—Gen-
d’armes, watch this man most carefully—G10.”
It was late when I returned to my cell, where they
brought me my allowance, which the trouble I ex-
perienced from the result of the interrogatory, would
not allow me to eat; I could not sleep, and passed
the whole night without closing an eye. Some
crime had been committed, but on whom ? By
whom? Why was I inculpated? I had asked myself
v


manoms or vrnoco. 79
that question a thousand times, without getting at
any rational solution, when they came to fetch me on
the following morning to renew my examination.
After the usual questions, a door was 0 ened, and
two gendarmes entered, supporting a emale. It
was Francine—Francine pale, and altered so as to be
scarcely recognizable. On seeing me, she fainted;
and when I wished to approach her, I was withheld
by the gendarmes. They took her away, and I
alone remained with the examining judge, who asked
me if the sight of the unfortunate Woman did not
prompt me to confess all? I protested my innocence,
asserting that I did not know till_that instant that
Francine was ill. [was led back to prison, but not
to solitary conﬁnement, and I could then hope that
I might be informed of all the events of which I 'was
so singularly the victim. I questioned the jailor, but
he would 'not answer me; I Wrote to Francine,
although I was told that the letters would be detained
by the judge, and that she was dismissed. IWas on
thorns, and at last determined on sending for own-
sel, who, after having learnt the accusation, told me
that I was charged with attempting to assassinate
Francine. On the very day I left her, she had been
found expiring, stabbed with a knife in ﬁve places,
and bathed in blood. My precipitate ﬂight-the
secret carrying away of my clothes, which it was
known that I had taken from one place to another,
as if to elude the search of 'ustice—the broken shutter
in my room—the footmar which resembled mine,—
all tended to conﬁrm the suspicions .of my guilt, and
my disguise still more corroborated it.
It was thought that I only disguised myself and
returned, to learn whether she had died without ac-
cusing me. One particular, which would have been in
my favour under any other circumstances, now aggra-
vaged the charge against me; as soon as the ph sicians
would allow Francine to speak, she declaredt at she
had stabbed herself, in despair, at ﬁnding that she was


80 mnmoms or vmocq.
abandoned by a man for whom she had sacriﬁced all.
But her attachment to me rendered her testimony sus-
pected, and it was believed that she only spoke thus
to save me. ‘
My counsel had terminated this narrative at least
aquarter of an hour, and Iwas still listening like a
man op ressed with the night-mare. At the age of
twenty was suffering under the weight of the two-
fold accusation of forging and assassination, without
having even dreamt of committing such crimes. I
even reﬂected whether I would not hang myself at the
bars of my cell with a straw r0 e. Iwas losing my
senses, but at last collected myse f sufﬁciently to de-
tail all the facts requisite for my exculpation. In
the after-examination they insisted strongly on the
blood which the porter, who had carried my luggage,
stated he had seen on my hands. This blood had
ﬂowed from a cut inﬂicted by the glass of a window
which I had broken to remove the shutter, and I
could produce two witnesses of~ this fact. My coun-
sel, to whom I told all my grounds of defence, assured
me, that united with the testimony of Francine, which
alone had been of no avail, I should be acquitted,
which was the case a few days afterwards. Francine,
although still very weak, came immediately to see me,
and conﬁrmed all the particulars which the examina-
tion had ﬁrst acquainted me with.
I was thus relieved of an enormous weight, without
being yet entirely freed from uneasiness: my repeated
escapes had delayed the decision of the accusation of
forgery, in which I had been implicated, and nothing
indicated its termination, for Grouard had also es-
caped. The result of the charge from which I had
just been freed, had, however, given me a hope, and
I thought nothing of attempting to escape, when an
opportunity presented, which I seized, as it were, by
instinct. In the chamber iniwhich I was placed, were
the temporary prisoners, and‘on fetching away two of
them one morning, the jailor forgot to close the door;


MEMOIRS or vrnoco. ‘ 81
which I perceived, and descending to the ground-ﬂoor,
found, on looking about me, that I had a chance. It
was scarcely daybreak, and the prisoners were all
asleep; I had met no one on the staircase, and there
was no one at the gate which I cleared; but the
jailor, who was drinking a dram at a public-house
opposite the prison, pursued me, crying loudly, “ Stop
him! Stop him 1” He cried in vain, for the streets
were empty, and the desire of liberty gave me wings.
In a few minutes, I got out of sight of the jailor, and
soon reached a house in Rue Saint Sauveur, where
I was very certain they would not come to seek for
me. I was now compelled to quit Lille as quickly
as possible, as I was too well known there to be long
in safet .
At nightfall, all were on the look out, and I learnt
that all the gates were closed, and no one was let out
but through the wicket, where olice-oﬁicers and dis-
guised gendarmes were statione to examine all comers.
The gates thus closed on me, I resolved on descend-
ing the ramparts, and knowing the spot well, I went
at ten o’clock at night to the bastion of Notre-Dame,
which I judged the most propitious place for the ex-
ecution of my project. Having tied to a tree a cord,
which I had procured for the purpose, I began to
slide down, but the weight of my body impellin me
more rapidly than I anticipated, the friction o the
cord made my hands so hot that I was compelled to
let go about ﬁfteen feet from the ground, and fell so
heavily on my right foot, that I sprained it, and in
endeavouring to get out of the ditch I thought I should
never be able to eﬁ'ect it. Unheard-of efforts at length
extricated me, but on reaching the plain I could move
no farther.
There I was, swearing most emphatically against all
ditches, ropes, and s rains, but this did not relieve
my embarrassment, w en a man passed me with one
of those cars so common in Flanders. A crown-piece,
my only one, prevailed on him to place me on his car,


82 MEMOIRS or vrnoco.
and convey me to the next village. On reaching his
house he laid me on a bed, and rubbed my foot with
brandy and soap, whilst his wife assisted him very
eﬂiciently, although starin with wonder at my clothes,
stained with the mud o the ditch. They did not
ask for any'explanation, but I thou ht it expedient to
'give one; and to prepare myself or it, I pretended
that I was greatly in want of sleep, and my host left
me. At the end of two hours I called them, like a
man just awaking, and told them in a few words, that
in conveying smuggled tobacco up the ramparts, I had
fallen, and my comrades, pursued by the custom-house
oﬂicers, had been compelled to leave me in the
ditch; and I added, thatI left myself in their hands
to do as they pleased with me. These good creatures,
who hated the custom-house oﬂicers as cordially as
the inhabitant of any frontier town ever does, assured
me that they would not for the world betray me. To
try them, I asked if there was no means of convey~
ance to my father’s house, who lived at the other
side, and they said that such a step would expose me,
and that it would be better to wait a_ few days, until
I was well. I consented, and to remove all suspi-
cions, it was agreed that I should pass for a relation
on avisit. No one, however, made the least obser-
vation.
Quieted on this head, I began to reﬂect on my next
step, and what I must do. I determined on leaving
these parts, and going into Holland. But to execute
this plan money was indispensable, and except my watch.
which I had offered to my host, I possessed only four
shillings and tenpence. I might go to Francine, but
then, of course, she was closely watched; and to send
her any message would infallibly hazard her safety.
At least, I must wait until the heat of the ﬁrst pur-
suit was over. ] did wait, and at the end of a fort-
night I determined to write to Francine, which I
entrusted to my host, telling him that, as this female
was the go-between of the smugglers, he must use much


MEMOIRS or vinoco. 83
caution in visiting her. He fulﬁlled his commission
with much care, and brought me next day one hundred
and twenty francs in gold. The next day I bade
farewell to my friends, whose charges were extremely
moderate, and at the end of six days reached Os-
tend.
My intention, as at my ﬁrst visit to this city, was to
go to America or India, but I only met with Danish
and Dutch skippers, who refused to take me without
credentials, The little cash which I had brought from
Lille diminished rapidly, and Iwas approaching that
situation with which we become more or. less fami-
liarized, but which is not the less disagreeable on that
account. Money certainly does not produce wit, nor
talents, nor understanding; but the quiet of mind
which it superinduces, the equanimity which it affords,
amply supply the place of these qualities; whilst in
the absence of this equanimity these gifts are of no
avail with many who possess them. The result is,
that at the moment when we have most need of all
the resources of the invention to procure money, we
are deprived of these resources by the very want of
the money itself. I was assuredly placed in the latter
of these conditions, and yet I must dine—an opera-
tion frequently more diﬁicult than may be imagined
by those happy mortals who think that appetite ‘can
be the only thing lacking.
I had heard much of the adventurous and lucrative
life of the coasting smugglers, of whom the prisoners
had boasted with enthusiasm; for this profession was
often followed through inclination, by individuals
whose fortune and situation did not compel them to
adopt so perilous a life. I confess, for my part, that
I was not seduced by the prospect of passing whole
nights under cliffs, in the midst of rocks, exposed to
all winds, and above all, to the shots of the custom-
house ofﬁcers.
It was with real repugnance that I went to the
house of a man named Peters, to whom I was directed,


84 MEMOle or vrnoco.
as one deeply engaged in the pursuit, and able to in-
troduce me to it. A sea-gull nailed on his door with
extended wings, like the owls and weasels that we
see on barns, guided me. I found the worthy in a
sort of cellar, which by the ropes, sails, oars, ham-
mocks, and barrels, which ﬁlled it, might have been
taken for a naval depot. From the midst of a thick
atmosphere of smoke which surrounded him, he viewed
me at ﬁrst with a contempt which had not a good
appearance, and my conjectures were soon realized,
for I had scarcely offered my services than he fell
upon me with a shower of blows. Icould certainly
have resisted him effectually, but astonishment had
in a measure deprived me of the power of defence;
and I saw besides, in the courbyard, half a dozen
sailors and an enormous Newfoundland dog, which
would have been powerful odds. Turned into the
street, I endeavoured to account for this singular re-
ce tion, when it occurred to me that Peters had mis-
en me for a spy, and treated me accordingly.
This idea determined me on returning to a dealer
in boll-ands, who had told me of him, and he, laughing
at the result of my visit, gave me a pass-word that
would procure me free access to Peters. Thus em-
powered, Iagain went to his formidable abode, having
ﬁrst ﬁlled my pockets with large stones, which, in case
of a second attack, might protect my retreat. Fortu-
nately I had no need of them. At the words “ Beware
of the sharks” (custom-house ofﬁcers), I was received
in a most amicable manner, for my strength and
activity made me a valuable acquisition to the frater-
nity, who are often compelled to carry with speed
from one spot to another the most oppressive loads.
A Bourdeaux man, who was one of the gang, under-
took to initiate me, and teach me the_stratagems of
the profession, which, however, I was called on to put
in practice before my tuition had progressed very far.
I slept at Peters’s house with a dozen or ﬁfteen
smugglers, Dutch, Danish, Swedish, Portuguese, and


menorns or vmoco. 85
RUSsian; there were no Englishmen, and only two
Frenchmen. The day after my installation, as we
were all getting into our hammocks, or ﬂock beds,
Peters entered suddenly into our chamber, which was
only a cellar contiguous to his own, and so ﬁlled with
barrels and kegs that we could scarcely ﬁnd room to
sling our hammocks. Peters had put off his usual
attire, which was that of ship-caulker, or sail-maker,
and had on a hairy cap, and a long red shirt, closed at
the breast with a silver pin, ﬁre-arms in his belt, and
a pair of thick large ﬁshermen’s 'boots, which reach
the top of the thigh, or may be folded down beneath
the knee. '
“A-hoyl a-hoy!" cried he, at the door, striking
the ground with the butt end of his carbine, “ Down
with the hammocks, down with the hammocks! We
will sleep some other day. The Squirrel has made
s' als for a landing this evening, and we must see
w at she has in her, muslin or tobacco. Come, come,
turn out my sea-boys.”
In a twinkling everybody was ready. They opened
an arm-chest, and every man took out a carbine or
Iblunderbuss, a brace of pistols, and a cutlass or board-
ing pike, and we set out, after having drank so many
glasses of brandy and arrack that the bottles were
empty. At this time there were not more than twenty
of us, but we were joined or met, at one place or
another, by so many individuals, that on reaching the
sea-side we were forty-seven in number, exclusive of
two females and some countrymen from the adjacent
villages, who brought hired horses, which they con-
cealed in a hollow behind some rocks.
It was night, and the wind was shifting, whilst the
sea dashed with so much force that I did not under-
stand how any vessel could approach without being
cast on shore. What conﬁrmed this idea was, that
by the starlight I saw a small boat rowing backwards
and forwards, as if it feared to land. They told me
afterwards that this was only a manceuvre to ascertain
I


86 MEMOIRS or vrnoco.
if all was ready for the unloading, and no danger to'
be apprehended. Peters now lighted a reﬂecting
lanthorn, which one of the men had brought, and
immediately extinguished it, the Squirrel raised a.
lanthorn at her mizen, which only shone for a moment
and then disappeared like a glow-worm on a summer's
night. We then saw it approach, and anchor about
agun shot off from the spot where we were. Our
troop then divided into three companies, two of which
were placed ﬁve hundred paces in front, to resist the
revenue olﬁcers if they should present themselves.
The men of these companies were then placed at
intervals along the ground, having at the left arm a
packthread which ran from one to the other: in case
of alarm, it was announced by a slight pull, and each
being ordered to answer this signal by ﬁring his gun,
a line of ﬁring was thus kept up, which perplexed the
revenue ofﬁcers. The third company, of which I was
one, remained by the sea-side, to cover the landing
and the transport of the cargo.
All being thus arranged,the Newfoundland dog already
mentioned, and who was with us, dashed at a word into
the midst of the waves and swam powerfully in the
direction of the Squirrel, and in an instant afterwards
returned with the end of a rope in his mouth. Peters
instantly seized it, and began to draw it towards him,
making us signs to assist him, which 1 obeyed me-
chanically. After a few tilgs, I saw that at the end
of the cable were a dozen small casks, which ﬂoated
towards us. I then perceived that the vessel thus
contrived to keep sufﬁciently far from the shore, not
to run a risk of being stranded.
In an instant the casks, smeared over with some-
thing that made them water-proof, were unfastened
and placed on horses, which immediately dashed oii'
for the interior of the country. A second cargo ar-
rived with the same success; but as we were landing
the third,‘some reports of ﬁre-arms announced that
our out-posts were attacked. “ There is the beginning


MEMOIRS or vmoco. 87
of the ball,” said Peters, calmly; “ I must go and see
who will dance; ” and taking up his carbine, he joined
the out-posts, which had by this time joined each
other. The ﬁring became rapid, and we had two men
killed, and others slightly wounded. At the ﬁre of
the revenue ofﬁcers, we soon found that they exceeded
us in number, but alarmed, and fearing an ambuscade,
they dared not to approach, and we eﬂ'ected our
retreat without any attempt on their part to prevent
it. From the beginning of the ﬁght the Squirrel had
weighed anchor and stood out to sea, for fear that the
noise of the ﬁring should bring down on her the
government cruiser. I was told that most probably
she would unload her cargo in some other part of the
coast, where the owners had numerous agents.
On, the return to Peter’s house, at break of day, I
threw myself into my hammock, and did not leave it
for eight and forty hours: the fatigue of the night, the
moisture which penetrated my clothes, whilst exercise
had made me perspire profusely, and the uneasiness
of my new situation, all combined to make me ill, and
a fever seized me. When it left me, “I told Peters that
I found the employment too hard, and that I should
be glad if he would allow me to go. , He agreed more
quietly than I expected, and gave me a bun red francs.
I have since learnt that he had me followed for several
da s, to be assured whether or no I took the road to
L' le, which I had told him was my intention.
I did go to that city, led by a childish wish to see
Francine, and take her with me to Holland, where I
had formed a plan of a small establishment. But my
imprudence was soon punished; for two gendarrnes,
who were drinking in a pot-house, saw me crossing
the street, and they resolved on following me to ask
for my papers. They overtook me at a turning, and
the trouble which their appearance caused me, deter-
mined them on apprehending me. They took me to
the brigade prison, where I was already looking out
for means of escape, when I heard some one say to


88 mamoms or vrnocq.
the gendarmes, “ Here is the guard of Lille; is there
any one for the prison?” Two men of the Lille
brigade came to the prison and asked if there was an
game in the trap? “ Yes,” said the fellows who too
me, “ we have one named Leger (my assumed name)
whom we found without a assport.” They opened the
door, and the brigadier ofp Lille, who had often seen
me at the Petit Hotel, cried “ By Jove, ’tis Vidocq !”
I was compelled to confess it, and setting out, I
entered Lille a few hours afterwards, between my two
body guards.
CHAPTER VI.
The pewter keys—The qnao‘h—Vidocq an hussar—He in retaken
--'l'he siege of the dungeon—SenwncFCmdemnaﬁon.
I FOUND at the Petit Hotel the greater number of the
prisoners who had been emancipated before my escape.
Some of them had made but a very short absence, and
were speedily apprehended, charged with fresh crimes,
or fresh offences. Amongst them was Calandrin, of
whom I have spoken about: enlarged on the 11th,
he was retaken on the 13th, charged with burglary,
and being an accomplice of the Chauffeurs, whose
name alone inspired universal dread. On the strength
of the reputation which in various escapes had pro-
cured for me, these men ooked on me as one on
whom they might rely. » On my side, I could scarcely
separate myself from them. Accused of capital
oﬁ'ences, they had a powerful motive for being secret
concerning our attempts, whilst the unfortunate
“ petty larceny rascal ” might denounce us, in the dread
of being accused of being privy to our designs. This
is the logic of the prison. This escape, however, was


MEMOIRS or vniocq. 89
not so very easy a matter as may be'surmised, when
I say that our dungeons, seven feet s uare, had walls
six feet thick, strengthened with plan ing crossed and
rivetted with iron; a window, two feet by one, closed
with three iron gratings placed one alter the other,
and the door cased with wrought iron. With such
precautions, a jailor might depend on the safe keeping
of his charge, but yet we overcame it all.
I was in a cell on the second ﬂoor with Duhamel.
For six francs, a prisoner, who was also a turnkey,
procured us two ﬁles, a ripping chisel, and two turn-
screws. We had pewter spoons, and our jailor was
probably ignorant of the use which risoners could
make of them. I knew the dungeon ey; it was the
counterpart of all the others on the same story; and
I cut a model of it from a large carrot; then I made
a mould with crumb of bread and potatoes. We
wanted ﬁre, and we procured it by making a lamp
with a piece of fat and the rags of a cotton cap. The
key was at last made of ewter, but it was not yet
perfect; and it was only after many trials and various
alterations that it ﬁtted at last. Thus masters of the
doors, we were compelled to work a hole in the wall,
near the barns of the town-hall. Sallambier, who
was in the dungeons below, found a way to cut the
hole, by working through the planking. All was
ready for our escape, and it was ﬁxed for the evening,
when the jailor told me that my term of dungeon im-
prisonment had expired, and I should be placed again
with the other prisoners.
A favour was never less welcome; I saw all my
preparations useless, and I might wait for a long time
for circumstances as favourable. I was however com-
pelled to follow the jailer, whom I wished at the
devil with his congratulations. This disappointment
affected ,me so greatly that all.the prisoners saw it.
One of them having learnt my secret from me, made
some very just observations on the danger I ran in
escaping with suchv men as Sallambier and Duhamel, ,
I 2


90 memoras or vrnocq.
who would perhaps not be out of prison twenty-four
hours without committing a murder. He even made
me promise to let them go, and wait myself for some
other opportunity. I followed his advice, and it was
well that I did so; I even took the precaution of
telling Duhamel and Sallambier that they were sus-
pected, and that the had not a moment to spare in
saving themselves. hey followed my advice literally,
and two hours afterwards they had joined a band of
forty-seven Chauﬂ'eurs, of whom twenty-eight were
executed the following month at Bruges.
The escape of Duhamel and Sallambier made a
great noise in the prison, and throughout the city.
They found' some extraordinary circumstances belong-
ing to it, but the jailor was the more astonished that
I had not made one of the party. It was necessary
to repair the breach they had made, and workmen
came; and they stationed at the bottom of the stair-
case a guard with orders not to let any one pass.
The thought came to me of deceiving the sentinel, and
getting out by the breach which was to have aided my
escape before. -
Francine, who came every day to see me, brought
me three ells of tri-coloured ribbon, which I had re-
quested her to procure. With one piece I made a
belt, and ornamenting my hat with the rest, I passed,
muﬂied up, by the soldier: who, taking me for a mu-
nicipal ofﬁcer, presented his arms. I ascended the
staircase quickly—reached the opening, which I found
guarded by two centinels, one in the granary of the
town-hall, and the other in the passage of the prison.
I told the latter that it was impossible for a man to pass
through this opening: he insisted on the contrary;
and his comrade, as if plotting with me, said that I
could get through with my clothes on. I said I would
try: and creeping through the hole I got into the
barn. Pretending that I had hurt myself in passing, I
told my two men that as I was on that side I should
go round by another way. “ In this case,” said he,


MEMOIRS or vmoco. 91
who was in the grana , “ wait whilst I open the
door;” and putting the ey in the lock, I jumped at
two bounds do‘Wn the stair-case of the town-hall and
got into the street with my ribbon still on, and which
would again have caused my arrest had not the day
been drawing to a close.
' I was scarcely out, when the jailor, who rarely lost
sight of me said, “' Where is Vidocq ?” They told
him that I was taking a turn in the yard; but when he
went there to convince himself, he sought me every
where in vain, calling loudly over all parts of the pri~
son gain oﬁicial search would not have been more suc-
cess ), no prisoner had seen me go out. It was soon
known that I was no longer in the prison; but how
then could I have escaped? Of this no one knew any-
thing—not even Francine, who most ingenuously de-
clared that she knew nothing of how I had liberated
myself, for 'she had brought me the ribbon without
knowing the purpose for which I intended it. _She
was however conﬁned; but this revealed nothin , the
soldiers, who had allowed me to pass, taking goo care
not to implicate themselves.
Whilst they were thus punishing the retended
authors of my escape, I left the city an reached
Courtrai, where the juggler Olivier and the quack
Devoye enrolled me in their troop to play pantomime.
I saw there many prisoners who had escaped, whose
acting costume, which they always wore gbecause they
had no other) served greatly to mysti y the police.
From‘Courtrai we returned to Ghent, whence we were
soon to depart for the fair of En hien. We Were in
this latter city for ﬁve days: and t e receipt, of which
I had a share, was very good; when one evening, as I
was about to go on the stage, I was arrested by the
police ofﬁcers, to whom I had been betrayed by the
Merry Andrew, out of malice at seeing me ﬁll the chief
characters. I was again taken back to Lille, where I
learnt, to my great grief, that my poor Francine had
been sentenced to six months’ conﬁnement for having


92 memoras or vrnocq.
aided my escape. The turnkey Baptiste—whose only
crime was that of having taken me for a superior ofd
ﬁcer, and having allowed me in this capacity to quit
St Peter’s Tower—the unlucky tiste was also im-
prisoned for the same fault. T e terrible charge
against him was, that the prisoners (overjoyed at an
opportunity of revenging themselves) declared that a
hundred crowns had made him take a young man of
nineteen for an old soldier on the shady side of ﬁfty.
As for me, I was sent to the prison of the depart-
ment of Douai, where I was treated as a dangerous
man ; that is to say, I was thrust into a dungeon with
my hands and legs in fetters. I found there my towns-
man Desfosseux and a young man named Doyenette,
condemned to chains for sixteen years for aburglary
effected with his father, mother, and two brothers
under ﬁfteen years of age. They had been four
months in the dungeon where I was put, lying on
straw, eaten up with vermin, and living on bean-bread
and water. I ordered my provisions, which were
soon consumed; we then talked over our business, and
my fellow prisoners told me that for the last fortnight
they were making a hole under the pavement of the
dungeon which would open at the level of the Scarpe
which washed the prison walls. I at ﬁrst regarded
the enterprise as diﬁicult, as it was necessary to pierce
a wall ﬁve feet thick and yet avoid the observation of
'the jailor, whose frequent visits would not allow of
our suffering a morsel of rubbish to be seen.
We eluded detection from this by throwing out of
the window, which overlooked the Scarpe, every hand-
ful of rubbish that we got from our mine. Desfosseux
had besides found means of ridding us of our fetters,
and we worked with less fatigue and difﬁculty. One
of us was always in the hole, which was already large
enough to admit a man. We thought that we had
at length terminated our labours and our captivity,
when we discovered that the foundations, which we
had imagined to be composed of common stone, were


memoras or vrnocq. 93
formed of masses of sand-stone of large size. This
compelled us to enlarge our subterranean gallery, and
for a week we worked at it unremittingly. To conceal
the disa pearance of that one of us who might be at
work w en the guard went round, we had ﬁlled a vest
and shirt with straw and placed the ﬁgure in the pos-
ture of a sleeping man.
Aﬁzer ﬁfty-ﬁve days and nights of unrelaxing toil,
we at last so far completed our work that we had but
one stone to remove and then should reach the river’s
banks. One night we determined on making an essay,
and all appeared favourable to our design; the jailor
had locked up earlier than usual, and a dense fog gave
us a conﬁdent hope of avoiding the sentinel of the
bridge. The shaken stone yielded to our efforts, and
fell inside the aperture we had made; but the water
followed it at the same time as if impelled by the sluice
of a mill. We had calculated our distance incorrectly,
and the hole being made some feet beneath the level
of the river, we were soon deluged. At ﬁrst we endea-
voured to plunge through the opening; but the ra-
pidity of the current precluded all attempts, and we
were compelled to call for help, or remain immersed in
water for the whole night. At our cries the jailor and
turnkeys ran to our assistance, and were greatly asto-
nished at ﬁnding themselves mid-leg deep in water. All
was soon discovered and the mischief repaired, whilst—
we were shut up sineg in dungeons in the same gallery.
- This catastrophe ﬁlled me with very sad reﬂections,
fromlwhich I was very soon aroused by the -voice of
Desfosseux, who told me, in slang terms, not to despair,
but to take“ courage by his example. Desfosseux was
certainly endowed with a strength of mind which no-
thing could depress: cast half naked on the straw in a
dungeon, where he could scarcely lie at length, loaded
with thirty pounds weight of fetters, he yet sang with
great vociferation, and was only devising means of
escape, that he might again do some evil deed; and
opportunity was not long wanting.


94 immoras or vrnoco.
In the same prison with us were conﬁned the jailor
of the Petit Hotel of Lille, and the turnkey Baptiste,
both accused of having aided my escape fora bribe. The
day of their trial having arrived, the jailor was acquitted,
but Baptiste’s sentence was deferred, the tribunal
having decreed a fresh process, in which I was to be
heard. Poor Baptiste then came to me, begging me
to tell the truth. At ﬁrst I only gave him evasive
answers; but Desfosseux having told me that the man
might serve us, and that we must arrange terms with
him, I promised to do what he wished: on which he
made me vast rofessions of gratitude and offers of
service. I took im at his word, and desired him to
bring me a knife and two large nails, of which Des-
fosseux had told me that he had need, and in an hour
I had them brought to me. On learning that I had
procured them, Desfosseux made as many jum s as
his fetters and his bounded space would a ow :
Doyenette equally gave himself up to the most exces-
sive joy; and, as gaiety is in general catching, Ifelt my-
self too in a mirthful mood, without exactly knowing
wh' .
&hen these transports had a little subsided, Des-
fosseux desired me to look at the roof of my dungeon
and observe if there were not ﬁve stones whiter than
the rest: and on my replying in the afﬁrmative, he
desired me to try the divisions with the point of my
knife, which I did, and found that the cement had been
replaced by crumb of bread, whitened with scraping:
and Desfosseux told me that the prisoner, who had
been there before me, had done this to remove the
stones and save himself, when he had been taken to
another part of the prison. I thus transferred the
knife to Desfosseux, who employed himself with ac-
tivity in opening a passage to my dungeon, when we
were served similarly to my predecessor. The jailor
having got wind of something, changed our dungeons,
and placed us all three in a dungeon next to the Scarpe,
where we were chained together: so that the'least


mamorns or vrnoco. 95
movement of one of us was communicated to the others,
a horrid punishment when prolonged, and which ends in
a total deprivation of sleep. At the end of two days
Desfosseux, seeing us dejected, resolved on using a
means which he only resorted to on desperate occap
sions, and which he reserved as the preparatory steps
towards escape. 4
Like many of the galley-slaves he carried secretly
about him a case full of ﬁles with which he set to
work, and in less than three hours our fetters fell oﬁ;
we cast them through the grating into the river. The
jailor coming to visit us the moment after to see if we
were quiet, almost fell backwards at ﬁnding us freed
from our irons, and asked us what we had done with
them: to which we only replied with jokes. The in-
spector of the prian arriving, together with an atten-
dant bailiff named Hurtrel, we were compelled to
undergo a fresh examination: and Desfosseux, who
was much irritated, said, “ You ask for our fetters?
Well, the worms have eaten them, and will eat as
many as you may load us with.”—The inspector then
suspecting that we had the famous herb which cuts
iron, which no botanist has ever yet discovered, or-
dered us to strip and be examined from head to foot,
and then again loaded us with irons, which were again
cut off the following night; for the precious case was
not discovered. This the we reserved to ourselves
the pleasure of throwing them on the ground in the
presence of the inspector and Hurtrel the bailiff, who
did not know what to think of it. The report spread
through the city that there was in the prison a con-
juror who took fetters off by only touching them. To
cut short all these accounts, and particularly to avoid
drawing the attention of the other prisoners to means
of getting rid of their chains, the public accuser gave
an order to shut us up and watch us with particular
care—a recommendation which did not prevent us
from quitting Douai sooner than they expected, or
than we ourselves had the least idea 0 .


96 usuoms or vxnocq.
Twice aweek we had leave to consult our counsel in
the gallery, of which one door led to the court of justice,
andI contrived to get an impression of the lock ; Des-
fosseux made a ke , and one ﬁne day, whilst my coun-
sel was engaged With another client, accused of two
murders, we all three got out without being seen.
Two other gates, which opposed us, were broken open
in a twinkling, and the prison was soon left behind us.
But yet I was uneasy : six francs was our whole stock,
and we could not get far with such a sum ; which I told
my companions, who looked at each other with a
sinister smile: and on my repeating my observation,
they told me that on the next night the intended to
enter a house in the neighbourhood wit which they
were well acquainted.
I had no intention of turning housebreaker, any more
than when I was amongst the Bohemiens. I had pro-
ﬁtted by the experience of Desfosseux in escapin , but
never contemplated uniting myself with such :1 vi lain :
and yet I was not desirous of entering into any explana-
tiOn. By evening we had reached a village on the road
to Cambrai; we had not eaten since our escape from
prison, and were sorely pressed by hunger. It was
absolutel necessary to get provisions in the vill .
The hal -naked appearance of my companions mig t
give rise to suspicion, and it was agreed that I should
go for the food_ I went to a public-house, where,
after having taken some bread and brandy, I went out
by a different door from that at which I had entered,
directing my steps in the opposite direction to that in
which I had left the two men whose company I was
so greatly desirous of getting rid of. I walked all
night, and only stopped at break of day to sleep a few
hours on a hay-stack.
Four days aﬁerwards I reached Compeigne, on my
way to Paris, where I trusted to ﬁnd some means of
existence until my mother could send me some suc-
cour. At Louvres, meetingaregiment of black hussars,
I asked the quarter-masterif I could enter, but he told


mamoins or VIDOCQ- 97
me that they did not enlist; and the lieutenant, to whom
I afterwards applied, gave me the same reply, but
touched by the embarrassment of my situation, he agreed
to keep me to clean the extra horses which he was
going to procure at Paris. A cap of a police ofﬁcer
and an o d cloak which was given to me, enabled me
to clear the barrier unquestioned, and [went to the
military school with the detachment, which I afterwards
accompanied to the depot, at Guise. On arriving in this
city I was presented to the colonel, who, although sus-
pecting me to be a deserter, engaged me under the
name of Lannoy, which I assumed without being able
to justify by any credentials. Concealed by my new '
uniform, and mingling with the rank of a numerous
regiment, I thought myself secure, and begun to think
of making my way as a soldier, when an unfortunate
accident again befel me. -
On entering the barrack one morning I met a gen-
darme who had left Douai for Guise. He had so fre-
quently seen me, that he knew me at ﬁrst sight and
called to me. We were in the midst of the street, and
thoughts of escape were useless, I therefore went up
to him and boldly feigned to be glad to see him. He
replied to me, but with an air that seemed to augur me
no good. Whilst thus together, a hussar of my squa-
dron, seeing me with the gendarme, approached, and
said to me, “ Well, Lannoy, what are you doing with
the round hats ?” “ Lannoy,” said the gendarme with
astonishment. “Yes, it is a nom de guerre.” “ Oh,
we will see about that,” said he, seizing my collar. I
was compelled to follow him to prison, and my identity
being conﬁrmed, in opposition to my statements at the
regiment, I was by a cursed chance again sent to Douai.
This sentence completely overpowered me, and the
intelligence that reached me at Douai was not calcu-
lated to set me at rest. I heard that Grouard, Herbaux,
Stoﬂet, and Boitel, had decided by lot, that one of
them should confess the execution of the forgery, but
K


98
M EMOIRS 0F VIDUCQ.
as this forgery could only be the work of one person,
they determined on accusing me, thus punishing me
for what I had said of them at my last examination;
and I learnt besides that the prisoner who could have
corroborated my statement, was dead. If anything
could console me, it was that I had escaped in time
from Desfosseux and Doyennette, who had been taken
four days after our escape with their booty about them,
in a mercer’s shop in Ponte-a-Marcq. lsoon saw them,
and as they were astonished at my abrupt de arture, I
told them that the arrival of a gendarme at t e public-
house where I was purchasing provisions, had com-
pelled me to ﬂy with speed. Again united, we formed
new plans of escape, which the approach of our trials
rendered of great importance to us.
One evemng a convoy of prisoners arrived, four of
whom, ironed, were placed with us. They were the
brothers Duhesme, rich farmers of Bailleul, where they
'had enjoyed the best reputation, until an unexpected
accident unfolded their real characters. These four
persons, men of powerful strength, were at the head of
a band of Chauffeurs, who had struck terror into the vi-
cinity, without any person being able to identify them.
The prattling of a little girl of one of the Duhesme’s
at last exposed the affair. This child, chatting at a
neighbdur’s house, said that she had been very much
frightened the night before. “And with what ?” said the
curious neighbour. “ Oh, papa came home again with
the black men.” “ The black men ? ” “ Yes, the men
who go out with papa every night and come home in
the day time and count out money; my mother lights
the candle, and my aunt Genevieve also, because my
uncles are amongst the black men. Iasked my mother
one day what it was all about, and she said, Be discreet
my child, your father has a black hen who ﬁnds him
in money, but.it is only at night, and that he should not
scare it, he makes his face as black as her feathers. Be
silent, for if you tell anybody what you have seen, the


MEMOIRS or vrnocq. 99
black hen will never come again.” We may easily di-
vine that it was not to visit the mysterious hen that
the Duhesmes blackened their faces with smoke. The
neighbour, who guessed as much, communicated her
suspicion to her husband, who, in his turn, questioned
the little girl, and convinced that the favourites of the
black hen were Chauffeurs, he made a deposition, and
on measures being taken, the band was apprehended,
all disguised, as they were about to sally out on an
expedition.
The youngest Duhesme had, in the sole of his shoe,
a knife-blade, which he had contrived to conceal on the
road from Bailleul to Douai. Being told that I knew
the way of the prison, he communicated this to me,
asking me if it were not possible to eﬁ‘ect an escape
with its assistance. I was reﬂecting about it, when a
justice of the peace, attended by gendarmes, came to
make a strict search throughout our room, and about
our persons. No one amongst us knowing the reason
of this, I thought it prudent to hide in my mouth a
small ﬁle which I had always about me, but one of the
gendarmes having watched me, cried “ He is going to
swallow it I ” “ Swallow what ?” Everybody looked,
and we then learnt that they wanted to ﬁnd the seal
which had served to stamp the forged order for Boitel’s
liberation. Suspected, as we have just learnt, of
having got it, Iwas transferred to the prison of the
Town Hall, and thrust in a dungeon so chained that
m right-hand was conﬁned to my left leg, and my
left hand to my right leg. The dungeon was moreover
so damp, that in twenty minutes the straw which they ‘
had thrown me was as wet as if it had been dipped in
water.
I remained eight days in this frightful state, and
when they found that it was impossible I could have
got rid of the seal in the way suspected, I was ordered
to the usual prison. On learning this intelligence, I
pretended, as is often done under such circumstances,
to be exceedingly weak and scarcely able to bear the


100 usmoms or VIDOCQ.
light of day. The unwholesome state of the dungeon
made this very probable, and the gendarmes fell com-
pletely into the snare and carried their complaisance so
at as to cover my eyes with a handkerchief, and then
deposited me in a hackney-coach. On the road I
took 06' the handkerchief and opening the door, with a
dexterit never yet surpassed, and jumped out into the
street, the gendarmes sought to follow, but impeded by
their sabres and jack boots, they had scarcely got out of
the carriage when I was at a considerable distance. 1
quitted the city instantly, and resolved on embarking, I
reached Dunkirk with some money which my mother
had transmitted to me. I there made friends with the
supercargo of a Swedish brig, who promised to get me
a berth on board.
Whilstwaiting for orders to sail, my new friend pro-
posed that I should accompany him to Saint Omer,
where he was going to get a large quantity of biscuit.
' I did not fear recognition in my sailor’s clothes, and
agreed, as it was impossible to refuse a man to whom I
was under such great obligations. Iwent with him,
but my turbulent character would not allow me to re-
main quiet in a pot-house row, and Iwas arrested as a
riotous fellow and taken to the watch-house. There
they asked for my papers, of which I had none, and my
answers inducing a belief that I might be an escaped
prisoner, they sent me the next day to the central pri-
son of Douai, without allowing me to bid adieu to the
supercargo, who was doubtlessly much surprised at this
occurrence. At Douai they put me once more in the
prison of the Town Hall, where at ﬁrst the jailor evinced
much kindness towards me, which did not however last.
At the termination of a quarrel with the turnkeys, in
which I took too active a part, I was thrown into a
dark cell under the tower. There were ﬁve of us, one
of whom. a deserter sentenced to death, was talking of
nothing but suicide, until I desired him not to think
of that, but rather devise means of escape from this
dismal hole, where the rats, which ran about like rab-
5


Manoras or vrnoco. lOl
bits in a corn ﬁeld, eatrour bread and bit our faces
whilst we slept. With a bayonet, stolen from one of
the soldiers of the national guard who did duty at the
prison, we commenced working a hole in the wall, in a
direction in which we heard a cobbler hammering his
leather. In ten days, and as many nights, we penetrated
six feet in depth and seemed to get nearer the cobbler’s
hammer. On the eleventh day, in the morning, on
drawing out a brick, I saw daylight from a window
which looked into the street, and gave light to a place
where the jailor kept some rabbits.
This discovery inspired us with fresh courage, and
the evening visit being concluded, we took from the
hole all the loosened bricks, of which there were two
courses, and placed them behind the dungeon door,
which opened inwards, so as to barricade it, and then
set to work with so much industr , that daylight sur-
prised us, when the hole, six feet arge at the opening,
was only two feet at the end. The jailor came with
our allowances, and ﬁnding some resistance, opened the
wicket, and saw the high pile of bricks, to his great
astonishment. He desired us to open the door, and
on our refusal the guard came, then the commissary of
the prison, then the public accuser, then the municipal
oﬂicers clothed with the tri-colored scarves. We held
a parley, and during this time one of us continued
Working at the hole, which the darkness did not dis-
close. We might perhaps escape before the door was
forced, when an unexpected event deprived us of our
last hope. -
The jailor’s wife, in going to feed the rabbits, had
observed rubbish scattered on the ﬂoor. In a prison,
nothing is indiﬂ‘erent,'and she carefully examined the
wall, and although the bricks had been so replaced as
to conceal the hole, she yet saw that they had been se-
parated; and on calling for’ the guard, with a blow from
the butt end of a musket, our bricks were knocked out
and we were discovered. On both sides they called to
us to clear the door-way, or they would ﬁre on us.
K 2


102 mamoms or vinoco.
Entrenched behind the materials, we answered that
the ﬁrst who entered should be knocked on the head
with bricks and irons. So much determination alarmed
the authorities, and they left us for a few hours to calm
ourselves. At noon, a municipal oﬂicer appeared at
the wicket, which as well as the hole had been sedu-
lously guarded, and offered us an amnesty, which we
accepted, but scarcely had we removed our chevauw-de-
frzlve, when they attacked us with the butt end of mus-
kets, ﬂat side of sabres, and bunches of keys, even the
jailor’s mastiﬂ‘ joined the party: he jumped at me
and bit me most severely all over. They then led us
into the court yard, where a body of ﬁfteen men held
us, lying on our faces, whilst they rivetted our fetters.
This job done, they cast me into a dungeon yet more
horrible than that I had left, and it was not till the
next day that the surgeon Dutilleul, (now keeper at
the hospital of St Maudé) came to dress the bites and
bruises which covered me,
I had scarcely recovered from this when the day of
trial came, which my repeated escapes and those of
Grouard, who ﬂed just as I was retaken, had deferred
for eight months. The trial began, and I saw that I
was lost; my companions accused me with an animo-
sity, explained by my retarded confessions, which were
useless to myself, and had not at all injured them.
Boitel declared that I had asked him how much I would
give to get out of prison. Herbaux confessed that he
had forged the order, but not added the signatures, and
said besides that I had persuaded him to forge it, and
then taken it from him without his thinking it of the
least importance. The jury thought that nothing indi-
cated that I had materially aided the crime; all the
charge against me was conﬁned to allegations without
proof, that I had furnished the seal. However, Boitel,
who remembered having begged for the forged order;
' Stoﬂiet, who had brought it to the jailor; Grouard,
who had at least assisted at the whole operation, were
acquitted; whilst Herbaux and I were condemned to


rumours 0F vrooco. 103
e‘ ht years’ imprisonment. This was the termination
o the sentence, which I subjoin accurately, in reply to
the tales which malevolence and stupidity have circu-
lated. Some say that I was sentenced to death for nu-
merous murders; others state that I had long been
chief of a band which robbed the diligences ; the most
moderate state that I was condemned to erpetual
labour at the gallies for robbery and housebre ing; and
it has been asserted that I (at a later period) incited
wretches to crime that I might show my vigilance in
pouncing upon them; as if there were not a sufﬁcient
number of the really guilty. Certainly false comrades,
as are everywhere found, even amongst robbers, some-
times instructed me in the plans of their accomplices:
certainly to conﬁrm the intent whilst we revented
the crime, it was sometimes necessary to low of a
partial commission of the deed, for experienced rogues
are never caught but in the very act: and I ask, is there
anything in this which has the appearance of an in-
ducement to do ill. This imputation emanated from
the police, amongst whom I have some enemies; but
the imputation fails before the publicity of judicial facts,
which would not have failed in revealing the infamies
with which I am charged; and it also fails before the
operations of the brigade of safety, which I directed. It
is not when proof is given that we have recourse to de-
ception, and the conﬁdence of the clever men who have
preceded M. Delavau, in the oﬂice of chief magistrate,
will acquit me of such wretched expedients. “ He is
a lucky fellow,” said, one day, the police ofﬁcers who
had failed in an enterprise in which I succeeded, to
M. Angles. “ Well,” said he, turning his back on
them, “Do you be lucky fellows too.”
Pan-icide is the only crime of which I have not been
charged, and yet I declare thatI never was sentenced
to, nor underwent, but the sentence which I here sub-
join. My pardon will prove this; and whenI assert that
I never aided in this miserable forgery, I should be
believed, for it was at last but a prison joke, which, if


104 memoms or vmocq.
proved, would at present only subject the offender to
a sentence of corporal punishment. But it was not the
suspected accomplice in a foolish forgery that was to be
punished ; it was the disorderly, rebellious and impudent
prisoner, the chief of so many plans of escape, of whom
an example must be made, and I was sacriﬁced.
" SENTENCE.
“ In the name qf the FRENCH REPUBLIC, one and
indil'isible.
“ It appears, by the criminal tribunal of the depart-
ment of the north, that the act of accusation made the
twenty-eighth Vendemaire, in the 5th year, against cer‘
tain men; namely, Sebastien Boitel, aged about forty, a
labourer, living at Annonlin; Cesar Herbaux, aged
twenty, ci-devant serjeant-major in the chasseurs of
Vandamme, living at Lille; Jean Francois Grouard,
aged nineteen years and a half, second conductor
of the military transports, living at Lille; Eugene
Stoﬁi'et, aged twenty-three years, a broker, living at
Lille; and Francois Vidocq, a native of Arras, d
twenty-two years, living at Lille; charged with or-
gery of a ublic and authentic document, by the di->
rector of t e jury of the division of Cambrai, in man-
ner following:
“ The undersigned, judge of the civil tribunal of the
department of the north, exercising the functions of'
director of the jury of the division of Cambrai, for
formal indictments, states, that by virtue of a judgment
given the seventh Fructidor last, by the criminal tribu¢
nal of the department of the north, snperseding and
annulling the acts of accusation, drawn up the twen-
tieth and twenty-sixth of last Germinal, by the director
of the jury of the division of Lille, charged the herein—
named César Herbaux, Francois Vidocq, Sebastien
Boitel, Eugene Stoﬂ‘let, and Brice Coquelle, prisoners
now present, and Audré Bordereau, prisoner, absent,
with the crime of forging a public and authentic docu-


MEMOIRS OF VIDOCQ.
ment, to procure the escape of the said Sebastien
Boitel, from the house of conﬁnement, called St Peter’s
Tower, at Lille, where he was conﬁned; and particularly
the said Brice Co uelle, with having, by means of this
forgery, allowed t e escape of the prisoner entrusted
to his care, as jailor of the said house of conﬁnement.
All the charges, together with the necessary papers,
would have been sent to the undersigned to be sub-
mitted to a new indictment, but on the examination
of the said papers it was discovered that the said
Jean Francois Grouard, detained in the house of con-
ﬁnement, called St Peter’s Tower, implicated in the
charge, had been omitted by the director of the be-
forementioned jury, whereupon, on the orders of the
commissioner of the executive ower, and by virtue of
an order of the twenty-fourth ructidor, a decree was
issued against the said Grouard, and thereupon, after
having heard a decree of sentence, as being concerned
in the said forging; that no plaintiff appearing in
the two days of the remand of the accused to the
house of conﬁnement in this division, the under-_
signed proceeded with the examination of the
papers relative to the causes of the detention and
arrest of all the accused. That having corrobo-
rated the charges of the crimes of which they were
respectively accused, it was found that the oﬂ'ences
were of a nature to deserve severe and notorious
punishment, and consequently, having consulted the
commissioner of the executive power, he has this day
passed a decree, by which he has ordered all the said
defendants before a s ecial jury of accusation, and by
virtue of the decree,t e undersigned has drawn up the
present act of accusation to be, after the formalities
required by law, presented to the said jury:
“ The undersigned declares, that in consequence,
there resulted from the examination of the papers,
and particularly the indictment drawn up by the clerk
of the tribunal of peace of the fourth section of the
commune of Lille, the nineteenth of Nivose last, and


106 nsmoms or vinoco.
the ninth and twenty-fourth Prairial following, by the
justice of the peace for the south, of the commune of
Douai (which indictment is hereunto annexed.)
“ That the said Sebastian'Boitel, a prisoner in the
house of conﬁnement, called St Peter’s Tower, at
Lille, had been set at liberty by virtue of a forged order
from the committee of legislation, and the tribunal of
Cassation, dated at Paris, the twentieth Brumaire, in
the fourth year of the republic, signed Carnot, Lesage-
' Cenault, and Le Coindre, at the back of which was the
seal of the representative of the people Talot, ad-
dressed to the said Brice Coquelle; that this order
and seal, which the latter used for his own purpose,
were not those of the committee of legislation and the
said representative Talot; and thence it is proved that
this order and seal are a forgery of a public and au-
thentic document, and that the forgery was evident
on the slightest inspection, inasmuch as it was inti-
tuled ‘ Order of the Committee of Legislation, Tribu-
ml of Cassation ;’ a ridiculous title, confounding, in
one and the same authority, two distinct authorities.
“That the ‘ninth Prairial last, there was found in
one of the dungeons of the house of conﬁnement at
Douai, a brass seal without a top, hid at the foot of
a bed ,' that the said Vidocq had slept there previously ;
that the seal is the same as that which was 'found at-
tached to the forged order, and presents a precisely
similar impression; that, after the visit of the said
judge of the south of Douai, made on the day before,
from the dungeon in which the said Vidocq then was,
they heard, on turning over the straw bed, something
fall, sounding like brass or silver; that Vidocq threw
himself on it, and managed to withdraw what had fallen,
' and to substitute in its place a piece of a ﬁle which he
produced ; that he had been seen previously with the
seal by the said Herbaux and Stoﬂ'let, to whom he
had confessed having been lieutenant of the battalion
of which the seal bore the name.
“That the said Herbaux, Francois Vidocq, Sebas-


rrmrorns or vrnoco. 107
tien Boitel, Eugéne Stoﬂ'let, Brice Coquelle, Andre
Bordereau, and Jean Francois Grouard, are charged
with being the authors and contrivers of the said for-
gery, and having thereby eﬂiscted the escape' of the
said Sebastien Boitel, from the house of conﬁnement
where he had been conﬁned, by virtue of a sentence of
condemnation to imprisonment.
“ That the said Brice Coquelle is, besides, charged
with having, by means of this false order, allowed to
escape from the said house‘of conﬁnement the said
Sebastien Boitel, committed to his custody, as jailor
of the said prison; that the said Brice Coquelle was
convicted before the jury at Lille, of having set at
liberty the, said Sebastien Boitel, the third Frimaire
last, by virtue of the forged order.
“ That this paper was conveyed to him by Stoﬁ‘iet,
who carried it to him, and who was recognised before
the judge as having been the bearer of it; that the said
Stoﬁiet had been at the prison ﬁve or six times in the
space of ten days, and always enquired for Herbaux,
with whom he remained for two or three hours; that
Herbaux and Boitel were together in the same prison,
and that the said Stoﬁ‘let spoke equally to one as to
the other; that the pretended order was addressed to
him, and that he could not sus ect the forgery, not
knowing the signature; that t e said Stoﬂlet con-
fessed that he was suspected of having carried a letter
to St Peter’s Tower, but that it was a forgery; that
he had been many tinies at the house of conﬁnement
to speak to the said Herbaux, but had never taken
any letters to him, and that Brice Coquelle had
asserted falsely in saying that he had recognized him
before the judge, as having brought him the forged
order, by virtue of which he had set Sebastien Boitel
at liberty.
“ That Francois Vidocq had declared that he only
knew Boitel in prison; that he knew he had left by
virtue of an order brought to Coquelle, who was
drinking. with the brothers of Coquelle and Prevot,


108 MEMOIRS or vmoco.
another prisoner, that he had been to sup with them
at the cabaret of Dordreck, and that Coquelle and
Prévot had not returned till midnight; that he de-
clared to the judge at Douai, that the seal found at
the foot of the bed did not come from him; that he
had not served in the battalion of which the seal bore
the name, and did not know whether this battalion
had been incorporated into one of those in which
he had served; that if he made any resistance at the
visit to his dun on, it was in consequence of the
piece of ﬁle whic he had, fearing that it might create
a suspicion that he would use it to loosen his fetters.
“ That the said Boitel had stated that he had been
sentenced to St Peter’s Tower in consequence of a
sentence to six years’ imprisonment; that be well
remembered that one day Herbaux and Vidocq had
asked him how much he would give to be set at
liberty; that he promised them twelve louis, and gave
them seven, romising the remainder when he was at
home; that lie weht out of prison with his two bro-
thers and Brice Coquelle; that he had been with
them to the Dordreck, to drink some wine, until ten
o’clock in the evening: that he well knew that he
had got out of prison through a false order,‘forged by
Vidocq and Herbaux, but that he did not know by
whom it had been brought.
“ That the said Grouard had declared, in presence
of the undersigned, that he knew of the liberation of
the said Boitel, by virtue of a superior order; that
after his going away he had seen the said order; that
he had suspected it to be a forgery, and thought he
recognized the writing of Herbaux; and that as for
himself, he did not at all assist, either in the sending
away Boitel or in the fabrication of the forgery.
“ That the said Herbaux declared to the under-
signed, that being withVidocq and the other prisoners,
they were conversing about Boitel; that the said
Vidocq deﬁed him to draw up an order by which the
liberation of Boitel could be effected; that he ac_


MEMOXRS or vmoco. 109
cepted the challenge, and took the ﬁrst paper
that came to hand and made the order in question, I
without putting any signature to it; that he left it.'
on the table; that Vidocq obtained it, and that if
is the same order through which Boitel’s escape was
effected.
“ That as to André Bordereau, not apprehended,
it appears that he must have known of the forgery,
because the day Boitel got out of prision he went to
deliver a letter to Stoﬁiet from Herbaux, and the day
after Bertel’s escape he visited him at Annoulin,
whither Boitel had ﬂed.
“ It results from all these details, attested by the
said documents and indictments, that a forgery of a
public and authentic paper has been committed; and
that by virtue of this forgery the said Sebastien Boitel
escaped from the house of conﬁnement called St
Peter’s Tower, at Lille, where he was conﬁned under
custody of the jailor; that this escape took place the
third Frimare last; a double crime, on which, according
to the penal code, the jury will have to decide, if
there be any accusation against the said Boitel,
Stoﬁiet, Vidocq, Coquelle, Grouard, Herbaux, and
Bordereau, by reason of the oﬁ'ences committed, men-
tioned in this indictment.
“ Given at Cambrai, the twenty-eighth Vendemiaire,
in the ﬁfth of the Republic, one and indivisible.”
(Signed) “ Nomxnnrcx.“
“ The declaration of the jury of the criminal court
of the division of Cambrai from the sixth Brurnaire to
the ﬁfteenth, written below the indictment, and statin
that there is a criminal charge made out as mentioned
in the said indictment. ‘
“ The order of seizure, made by the director of
the jury of the said division the same day, against the \
said Sebastien Boitel, C'esar Herbaux, Eugéne Stoﬂiet,
Francois Grouard, and Francois Vidocr}.
“ The procés-verbal of the return 0 these persons
VOL. I. _ L


110 MEMOIRS or VIDOCQ.
to the court of justice of the department, the twenty-
ﬁrst of last Brumaire.
“ And the declaration of the special jury of judg-
ment, the same date, stating :—
“ lst, That the forgery mentioned by the indict-
ment is made out.
“ 2d, That César Herbaux, accused, is convicted of
having committed this forgery.
“ 3d, That he is convicted of having committed it
designedly, and with an intent to do wrong. '
“ 4th, That Francois Vidocq is convicted of having
committed this forgery.
“ 5th, That he is convicted of having committed it
designedly, and with an intent to do wrong.
“ 6th, That it is proved that the said forgery has
been committed on a public and authentic paper. .
“ 7th, That Sebastien Boitel, accused, is not con-
victed of having by gifts and presents incited the guilty
person or persons to commit the said forgery.
“ 8th, That Eugene Stoﬂ'let is not convicted of
having aided and assisted the guilty person or persons,
either with the means which prepared, or the facilities
which aided the execution of the said forgery, or in
the act itself which consummated the deed.
“ 9th, That Jean Francois Grouard is not convicted
of having aided and assisted the guilty person or per-
sons, either with the means which prepared, or the
facilities which aided the execution of the said forgery,
or in the act itself which consummated the deed.
“ In, consequence of the said declaration, the presi-
dent pronounced, in conformity with the four-hundred
and twenty-fourth article of the law, from the third of
Brumaire to the fourth, code ~of crimes and punish-
ment, that the said Sebastien Boitel, Eugene Stoﬁ‘let,
and Jean Francois Grouard, are and remain acquitted
of the charge laid to them; and the guardian of the
house of justice of the department is ordered to set
them free immediately, unless they be detained for
any other reason.


manorns or vrnoco. 111
“ The tribunal having heard the commissioner of
the executive power, and the citizen Despres, counsel
for the prisoners, sentences Francois Vidocq and
César Herbaux to the punishment of the galleys for
eight years, conformably to the forty-fourth article of
the second section of the second chapter of the second
part of the penal code, which has been read, and
which runs thus :—
“ If the said crime of forgery is committed on a
public and authentic paper, the punishment shall be
eight years at the galleys.
“ Ordered, conformably with the twenty-eighth ar-
ticle of the ﬁrst chapter of the penal code, which has
also been read, and runs thus :— '
“ ‘ Whoever shall have been condemned to the
punishment of irons, imprisonment in the house of
correction, to the rack, to conﬁnement, before under-
going the sentence shall be ﬁrst led to the public
square of the city, where the criminal jury have been
summoned, and shall then be tied to a post, placed on
a scaffold, and shall remain there exposed to the gaze
of the populace for six hours, if he be condemned to
irons or solitary conﬁnement; for four hours if he be
condemned to. the rack; for two hours if he be con-
demned to imprisonment; over his head, on a board
shall be inscribed in large characters, his name, pro-
fession, residence, cause of his sentence, and judgment
assed on him.’
“ And by the four hundred and forty-ﬁfth article
of the law of the third and fourth Brumaire, code of
crimes and punishments, which has been read and runs
thus :—-‘ The ex osure shall be made in one of the
public laces 0 the commune, where the criminal
tribuna holds its sittings.’
“ That the said Francois Vidocq and César Her-
baux shall be exposed for six hours on a scaffold,
which shall be for that purpose erected on the public
square of this commune.
“ Ordered, that with all speed of the commissaries


112 menoms or vinoco.
I
of the executive power, this sentence be carried into
effect.
“ Given and pronounced at Douai, at the sitting of
the criminal tribunal of the department of the North, ,
the seventh Nivose, ﬁfth year of the French Republic, .
one and indivisible; present, the citizens Delaetre,
president; Havyn, Ricquet, Rest, and Legrand, judges,
who signed the minutes of this said sentence.
“ We command and order all officers on this our
requisition, to carry the said sentence into eﬂ‘ect; to
our attorney-general and our oﬂicers at the inferior
tribunals to give all requisite aid; to all commandants
and their oﬂicers of the public departments to render
all necessary assistance when they shall be legally
called upon for thesame.
“ By virtue of which, the present judgment has
been signed by the president of the court, and by the
clerk. With all speed,
(Signed)
“ Laroms, clerk."
On the margin is written: “ Registered at Douai,
the sixteenth Prairal, thirteenth year, folio 67 (back
of the leaf) second case, received ﬁve francs, namely,
two francs for as many sentences, three francs for as
many dischar s, and ﬁfty centimes for charge on all.
( bigned) “ Danae.”
On the margin of the ﬁrst part is written: “ By
a judge of the superior tribunal of the division of
Bethune, conformany with the two hundred and
thirty-severith article of the civil code, and by the
'prpcés-verbal of this day, thirtieth Prairal, year
thirteen, supplying the place of the absent president,
reference approved.
(Signed) “ DELDICQUE.”


MEMOIRS or vmoco. 113
CHAPTER VII.
Departure from Dousi—Tbe prisoners revolt in the forest of
Gompeigne—Resiﬂence at the Bicélre—Prison customs—The
madhouse.
Worm out by the bad treatment of every species which
I experienced in the prison of Douai, tormented by a
watchfulness redoubled after my sentence, I took care
not to make an appeal, which would keep me there
some months. What conﬁrmed me in my resolution
was, the information that the prisoners were to be
sent forthwith to the Bicétre, and there, making one
chain, to be sent on to the Bagne at Brest. It is
unnecessary to say, that I relied on escaping on our
route. As to the appeal, I was told that I could
present a petition for pardon from the Bagne, which
would have the same effect. We remained however
some months at Douai, which made me regret bitterly
that I had not made my petition for annulling the
sentence.
At length the order of removal arrived, and, what
would scarcely be credited from men doomed to the
galleys, it was hailed with enthusiasm, so much were
we tired of the torments of Marin, the jailor. Our new
situation was not however much more satisfactory;
the ofﬁcer, Hurtrel, who accompanied us, I know not
why, had ordered irons of a new construction, which
fastened to each of our legs a ball of ﬁfteen pounds
weight, whilst we were secured two and two by a
massive wrist-cuﬁ' of iron. Besides, the vigilance was
extreme, and it was impossible to think of doing any-
thing by address. An attack by main force could
alone save us, and I proposed it to fourteen of my
companions, who agreed on it, and it was settled that
the project should be put ip‘excution on our way
through the forest of Compeigne. Desfogseux was
r L .


114 memoms or vmoco.
of the party, and by means of ﬁne saws which he had
always securely secreted about him, out fetters were
cut in three days; the plaister of a particular sort of
gum prevented our keepers from perceiving the trace
of the instruments.
On reaching the forest and gainin the appointed
spot, the si nal was given, the fetters ell from us, and
We leaped mm the carriages which enclosed us to try
and gain the thicket; but the ﬁve gendarmes and the
eight dragoons who escorted us, charged sword in
hand. We entrenched ourselves behind the trees,
armed with the stones which are piled up to mend
the roads, and with some weapons we had got hold
of at the ﬁrst moment of confusion. The soldiers
hesitated for an instant, but, well armed and well
mounted, they soon made up their minds, and at the
ﬁrst charge two of our party fell dead, ﬁve more
terribly wounded, and the others falling on their knees
cried for mercy. Surrender was now imperative; and
Desfosseux, myself, and some others who had escaped,
got into the carriage, when Hurtrel, who had kept at '
a very respectful distance from the aﬂ‘i'ay, came up to
a poor wretch, who certainly did not hurry himself
very much, and thrust his sabre through him. Such
baseness enraged us; the prisoners who had not yet
ascended the carriages took up stones, and but for the
aid of the dragoons, Hurtrel would have been knocked
on the head. The soldiers bid us desist before 'we
brought down destruction on ourselves ; and the thing
was so evident, that we were compelled to lay down
our arms, that is the stones. This circumstance,
however, put a termination 'to the annoyances of
Hurtrel, who never approached us but with fear and
trembling. ‘
At Senlis we were placed in the temporary prison,
one of the most horrible I ever tenanted. The jailo:
exercising the ofﬁce of street-keeper, the prison was
guarded by his wife; and what a creature' was she!
As we had made ourselves notorious, she thrust us


MEMOIRS or vmucq. 115
into the most secret dungeons, convincing herself by
previous personal examination that we had nothing
about us that could aid escape. We were however
trying the walls, when we heard her roar out, “ Ras-
cals, I am coming to you with my bastinado; I will
teach you how to play music.” We took her at her
word, and all desisted. The next day we reached
Paris, and were lodged in the outer boulevards, and
at four in the afternoon we got in sight of Bicétre.
On reaching the end of the avenue which looks on
the road to Fontainebleau, the carriages turned to
the right, and entered an iron gate, above which I
read mechanically this inscription—“ Hospice de la
viellesse ” (Hospital for the aged.) In the fore court
many old men were walking, clothed in grey garments.
They were paupers; and stared at us with that stupid
curiosity which results from a monotonous and purely
animal existence; for it often happens that a person
admitted into a hospital, having no longer his own
subsistence to provide for, renounces the exercise of
his narrow faculties, and ends by falling into a state
of perfect idiotcy. On reaching the second court,
in which was the chapel, I remarked that the majority
of my companions hid their faces with their hands or _
pocket-handkerchiefs. It may be supposed that they
e erienced some feeling of shame. No; they were
on thinking of allowing their faces to be seen as
littli; as possible, so that if opportunity presented they
might the more easily escape. '
“ Here we are,” said Desfosseux to me: “ you see
that square building—that is the prison.” We alighted
at an iron door, guarded inside by a sentry. Having
entered the oﬁice, we were only registered, our de-
scription being deferred until the next day. I per-
ceived, however, that the jailor looked at us, Desfos-
seux and me, with a sort of curiosity, and I thence
concluded that we had been recommended by the
oﬁicer Hurtrel, who had preceded us a quarter of an
hour from the time of the business of the forest of


116
MEMOIRS OF VIDOCQ.
Compiégne. Havingo ned many low doors, guarded
with iron plates, and t e Bird-cage Wicket, we were
introduced to a large square yard, where about sixty
prisoners were laying at ﬁves, and shouting so loudly
as to sound over the place. At our appearance
their game ceased, and surrounding us, they examined
with much surprise the irons which loaded us. It
was, besides, to enter Bicétre in the most favourable
manner, to be decked with such caparisons. for they
estimated the deserts of the prisoner, that is to say,
his boldness and talent for escape, by the precautions
taken to secure him. Desfosseux, who found himself
amongst friends, had no difﬁculty in introducing us
as the most distinguished personages ofthe north;
he did more, he particularly expatiated on my merits,
and I was accordingly surrounded and made mﬁeh of
by all the worthies of the prison: Beaumont, Guil-
laume, Manger, Jossat, Maltaisé, Corun, Blondy,
Troaﬂat, and Richard, one of the party concerned in
the murder of a Lyons courier, never left me. As
soon as my fetters were taken off; they took me to
the drinking-shop, where for two hours I did justice
to a_thousand invitations, when a tall man, with a
olice-oﬁicer’s cap, who they told me was the room-
mspector, took us to a large place called Le Fort
Mahon, when we were clothed in the prison garb,
consisting of a frock half grey and half black. The
inspector told me, I should be brigadier, that is,
that I should preside at the giving out of the pro-
visions amongst my table-companions, and I had, in
consequence, a good bed, whilst others slept on camp
couches. In four days I was known to all the PH-
soners; but although they had the highest opinion of
my courage, Beaumont wishing to try me, picked a
quarrel with me; we fought, and as he was an expert
boxer, I was completely conquered. I, however, had
my revenge in a room, where Beaumont, unable to
display the resources of his art, had the worst of it.
My ﬁrst defeat, however, gave me a desire to be


memoms 0F vmoco. 117
instructed-in the mysteries of this art, and the cele-
brated Jean Goupel, the Saint George of boxing, who
was at the Bicétre with us, soon counted me amongst
those of his pupils who were destined to do him the
most honour. ' i
The prison of Bicétre is a neat quadrangular build-
ing, inclosing many other structures and many courts,
which have each a diﬁ'erent name; there is the
grande cour (great court) where the prisoners walk;
the cour de cuisine (or kitchen court); the cour des
chiens gor dog’s court); the cour de correction (or
court 0 punishment); and the cour des fers (or iron
court). In this last is a new building ﬁve stories
high; each story contains forty cells, capable of hold-
ing four prisoners. On the platform, which supplies
the place of a roof, was night and day a dog named
Dragon, who passed in the prison for the most watch-
ful and incorruptible of his kind; but some prisoners
managed at a subse uent period to corrupt him
through the medium 0 a roasted leg of mutton, which
he had the culpable weakness to accept; so true is
it, that there are no seductions more potent than those
of gluttony, since they operate indiﬂ'erently on all
organised beings. To ambition, to gaming, and to gal-
lantry, there are bounds ﬁxed by nature; but gluttony
knows nothing of age, and if the appetite sometimes
opposes its inert power, we are quits with it by a
good ﬁt of indigestion. However, the Amphytrions
escaped whilst Dragon was swallowing the mutton;
he was beaten and taken into the cour des chiens,
where, chained up and deprived of the free air which
he breathed on the platform, he was inconsolable for
his fault, and perished piecemeal, a victim of remorse
at his weakness in yielding to a moment of gluttony
and error. ’
Near the erection I speak of is the old buildin ,
nearly arranged in the same way, and under whic
were dungeons of safety, in which were inclosed the
troublesome and condemned prisoners. It was in one


118 MEMOIRS or \‘lDOCQ-
of these dungeons that for forty-three years lived the
accomplice of Cartouche, who betrayed him to procure
this cOmmutationl To obtain a moment’s sunshine,
he frequently counterfeited death so well, that when
he had actually breathed his last sigh, two days passed
before they took off his iron collar. A third part of
the building, called La Force, comprised various rooms,
in which the prisoners were placed who arrived from
the provinces, and are destined, like ourselves, to the
chain.
At this period, the prison of Bicétre, which is only
strong from the strict guard kept up there, could con-
tain twelve hundred prisoners; but they were piled
on each other, and the conduct of the jailors in no
way assuaged the inconvenience of the place : a sullen
air, a rough tone, and brutal manners, were exercised
towards the prisoners, and they were in no way to be
softened, but through the medium of a bottle of wine,
or a pecuniary bribe. Besides, they never attempted
to repress any excess or any crime, and provided that
no one sought to escape, they might do whatever they
pleased in the prison, without being restrained or
prevented. Whilst men condemned for those attempts
which modesty shrinks from naming, openly practised
their detestable libertinism, and robbers exercised
their industry inside the prison without any person
attempting to check the crime or prevent the bes-
tiality.
If any man arrived from the country well clad, who,
condemned for a ﬁrst oﬂ‘ence, was not as yet initiated
into the customs and usages of prisons, in a twinkling '
he was stripped of his clothes, which were sold in his
presence to the highest bidder. If he had jewels or
money, they were alike conﬁscated to the proﬁt of
the society, and if he were too long in taking out his
earrings, they snatched them out without the sufferer
daring .to com lain. He was previously warned, that
if he spoke o it, they would hang him in the night to
the bars of his cell, and afterwards say that he had
1'


MEMOIRS or vrnoco. ' 119
committed suicide. If a prisoner, out of precaution,
when going to sleep, placed his clothes under his head,
they waited until he was in his ﬁrst sleep, and then
they tied to his foot a stone, which they balanced at
the side of his bed; at the least motion the stone fell,
and aroused by the noise, the sleeper jumped up, and
before he could discover what had occurred, his packet
hoisted by a cord, went through the iron bars to the
ﬂoor above. I have seen, in the depth of winter, these
poor devils, having been deprived of their property in
this way, remain in the court in their shirts until some
one threw'them some rags to cover their nakedness.
As long as they remained at Bicétre, by burying them-
selves, as we may say, in their straw, they could defy
the rigour of the weather; but at the departure of the
chain, when they had no other covering than the frock
and trousers made of packing cloth, they often sunk ex-
hausted and frozen before they reached the ﬁrst rest-
ing place.
It is necessary, by facts of this nature, to explain
the rapid depravity of men whom it was easy to excite
to honest feelings ; but who unable to escape the
height of misery but by excess of wickedness, sought
an alleviation of their lot in the real or apparent ex-
aggeration of all species of crime. In society, we
dread infamy; in the society of prisoners, there is no
shame but in not being sufficiently infamous. The
condemned prisoners are a dictinct people; whoever
is cast amongst them must expect to be treated as an
enemy as long as he will not speak their language and
will not identify himself with their way of thinking.
The abuses I have mentioned are not the only ones;
there are others even more terrible. If a prisoner
'were marked out as a false brother or as a sneak, he
was pitilessly knocked on the head, without any jailor
interfering to prevent it. Matters came to such a
pitch, that it was necessary to assign a particular divi-
sion to those individuals, who, giving an account of
their own doings had made any mention of their com~


I20 MEMOIRS or vrnocq.
rades which they tho ht could in any way com ro-
mise them. On the (litgher hand the impudence o the
robbers, and the immorality of their keepers, were car-
ried to such an extent, that they prepared openly in
the prison tricks of swindling and theﬂt, which were
to be perpetrated on quitting the walls of the prison.
I will mention only one of these plans, which will suf-
ﬁce to evince the measure of credulity of the dupes
and the audacity of the plotters. These latter obtained
the address of certain rich persons living in the pro-
vince, which was easy from the number of prisoners
who were constantly arriving. They then wrote
letters to them, called, in the slang language, ‘ letters
of Jerusalem,’ and which contained in substance what
follows. It is useless -to observe that the names
a of places and persons change according to circum-
stances.
“ Sir,-~You will doubtlesst be astonished at re-
ceiving a letter from a person unknown to you, who is
about to ask a favour from you; but from the sad
condition in which I am placed, I am lost if some ho~
nourable person will not lend me succour: that is the
reason of m addressing you, of whom I have heard so
much that cannot for a moment hesitate to conﬁde
all my affairs to your kindness. As valet-de-chambre
to the marquis de 1 emigrated with my master,
and that we might avoid suspicion we travelled on
foot and I carried the luggage, consisting of a casket
containing 16,000 francs in gold and the diamonds of
the late marchioness. We were on the point of join-
ing the army at , when ,-we were marked out
and pursued by a detachment of volunteers. The mar-
quis, seeing how closely we were pressed, desired me
to throw the casket into a deep ditch near us, so that
it might not implicate us in case we were apprehended.
I relied on recovering it the following night; but the
country pe0ple, aroused by the tocsin which the com-
mandant of the detachment ordered to be rung, began
to beat the wood in which we were concealed, with


mamoras or VlDOCQ. 121
so much vigour, that it was necessary to think only of
escape. On reaching a foreign province, the marquis
received some advances from the prince of ;
but these resources soon failing, be resolved on send-
ing me back for the casket thrown into the ditch. I
was the more certain of ﬁnding it, as on the day after
I had thrown it from me, we had made a written me-
morandum of the localities, in case we should be for
any length of time without being able to return for it.
I set out, and entering France, reached the village of
without accident, near the spot where we had
been pursued. You must know the village perfectly,
as it is not three quarters of a league from your resi-
dence. I prepared to fulﬁl my mission, when the
landlord of the auberge where Ihad lodged, a bitter
jacobin and collector of national property, remarking
my embarrassment when he proposed to drink to the
health of the republic, had me apprehended as a sus-
pected person: and as I had no passport, and unfor-
tunately resembled an individual pursued for stopping
the diligences, I was taken from prison to prison to be
confronted with my pretended accomplices, until on
reaching Bicétre» I was obliged to go to the inﬁrmary,
where I have been for two months. p
“ In this cruel situation, having heard mention of
you by a relation of my master’s, who had property in
your district. I be to know if I cannot, through your
aid, obtain the cas et in question and get a portion of
the money which it contains. I could then supply my
immediate necessities and pay my counsel, w 0 die--
tates this, and assures me that by some presents, I
could extricate myself from this aﬂ‘air.
“ Receive, sir, &c.
(Signed) “ N——.”


Out of one hundred such letters, twenty were always
answered : and astonishment will cease when we con-
sider that they were only addressed to men known by
their attachment to the old order of things, and that no-
M


122 mmxoius or vinocq.
thing reasons less than the spirit of party. It testiﬁed
besides, to the person addressed, that unlimited conﬁ-
dence which never fails to produce its effect on
self-love or interest; the person answered that he
would ree to undertake to get the casket from its
place 0 concealment. Another letter from the pre-
tended valet-de-chambre stating, that being entirely
stripped, he had agreed with the keeper of the _in-
ﬁrmary for every small sum to sell the trunk, in which
was, in the false bottom, the plan already alluded to.
Then the money arrived, and they received sums-
sometimes amounting to twelve or ﬁfteen hundred
francs. Some individuals, thinking to give a profound
proof of sagacity, came even from the remotest parts
of their province to Bicétre, where they received the
destined plan which was to conduct them to this mys-
terious forest, which, like the fantastic forests of the
romances of chivalry, ﬂed eternally before them. The
Parisians themselves sometimes fell into the snare:
and some persons may still remember the adventure of
the clothseller of the Rue des Prouvaires, who was
caught undermining an arch of the Pont Neuf, where
he expected to ﬁnd the diamonds of the duchess de
Bouillon.
We may imagine that such manoeuvres could not
be effected but by the consent and with the participa-
tion of the keepers, since they received the corres-,
pondence of the treasure~seekers. But the jailor
thought, that independentl of the direct beneﬁt he
thence drew from it, by t e increase of the money ,
spent by the prisoners in viands and spirits, they being ‘
thus occupied would not think of escaping. On the
same principle he tolerated the making varieties of
things in straw, wood, and bone, and even false pieces
of two sous, with which Paris was at one time inun-
dated. There were also other crafts exercised; 'but
these were done clandestinely: they made privately
false passports with the pen, so well done as to pass
currently, saws for cutting iron, and false hair, which


mamorns or VIDOCQ. 123
were of great service in escaping from the Bagne—the
galley- slaves being particularly recognizable by their
shorn heads. These various articles were concealed in
tin-cases, which could be bid in the intestines.
As for me, always occupied with the idea of escaping
from the Bagne and reaching a sea-port whence I
could embark, I was night and day plotting the means
of getting away from Bicétre. I at length imagined
that by breaking through the quadrangle of Fort-
Mahon and reaching the water-courses made under it,
we might, by means of a short mine get into the court
of the ideots I have before alluded to, whence there
would be no difﬁculty in reaching the outside. This
project was executed in ten days and as many nights.
During the whole time the prisoners, of whom we had
any distrust, were always accompanied by a trusty
man ; but we were obliged to wait until the moon should
be on the wane. At length, on the 3rd of October
1797, at two o’clock in the morning, we descended the
water-course, thirty-three in number, provided with
dark lantherns, andwe' soon opened the subterranean
passage and reached the court of the ideots. We wanted
aladder, or something instead of it, to ,climb the walls :
and at last got hold of a long pole, and we were going
to draw lots to decide who should ﬁrst climb up, when
a noise of chains suddenly broke the silence of night.
A dog came out from a kennel placed in an angle of
the court; we stood motionless and held our breath,
for it was an important moment. After having
stretched himself out and yawned, as if he had only
wanted to change place, the animal put one foot into
his kennel as if about to return, and we then thought
ourselves saved. Suddenly he turned his head to the
place in which we were huddled together, and ﬁxed
on us two eyes which looked like burning coals. A.
low growling was then followed with barkings which
sounded all over the place. Desfosseux wished to
try and cut his throat, but he was of a size to render
the issue of a contest doubtful. It appeared best to


124 memoras or vrnocq.
us to lie down in a large open space, which served as
a walking ground for the ideots; but the dog till kept
up the concert, and his colleagues having joined him
the din became so excessive that the inspector Giroux,
fancying something particular was passing amongst
his lodgers, and knowing his customers, began his
round by Fort-Mahon, and almost fell backwards at
ﬁnding no one. At his cries the jailor, turnkeys, and
guard, all assembled. They soon discovered the road
we had taken, and taking the same to get into the
court of the ideots, they loosened the dog, who ran
straight at us. The guards then entered the place
where we were with ﬁxed bayonets, as if about to
carry a redoubt. They put handcuﬂs on us, the usual,
prelude of any important matter to be done in a pri-
son; and we then returned, not to Fort-Mahon, but to
the dungeon without however experiencing any bad
treatment. ‘
This attempt, the boldest of which the prison had
for a long time been the theatre, threw the keepers
into so much confusion that it was' two days before
they perceived that one of the prisoners of Fort-Mahon
was missing: it was Desfosseux. Knowing all his
address I thought him at a distance, when, on the
morning of the third day, I saw him enter my dungeon
pale, exhausted, and bleeding. When the door was
closed on him he told me all his adventure.
At the moment when the guard had seized us, he
had squatted down in a sort of tub, probably used for
baths, and hearing no noise, he had left his retreat:
and the pole had aided him in climbing several walls:
but yet he always got back to the ideot’s court. -, Day
was just breaking, 'and he heard footsteps going and
coming in the buildings, for they are nowhere earlier
than in hospitals. It was necessary to avoid the gaze
of the turnkey, who would soon be in the courts : the
wicket of a room was half open—he glided in, and was
about with much precaution to roll himself in a large
heap of straw; but what was his astonishment to see


Menoras or vinoco. 125
it occupied by a man naked, his hair dishevelled, beard
long, and eye haggard and bloodshot. The madman,
for such he was, looked at Desfosseux with a ﬁerce
air, then made him a quick sign: and as he stood still,
darted at him as if to attack him. A few caresses
seemed to appease him: he took Desfossenx by the
hand and made him sit down beside him,- heaping all
the straw round him in the manner and with the ges-
tures of a monkey. At eight o’clock a morsel of black
bread fell in at the door, which he took up, looked at,
threw into a heap of dirt, and then picked it up and
began to eat. During the day more bread was brought;
but as the madman was asleep-Desfosseux seized and
devoured it, at the risk of being himself devoured by
his terrible companion, who might have been enraged
at the abstraction of his pittance. At twilight the
madman awoke, and talked for some time with incon-
ceivable volubility; night came on and his excitement
sensibl increased, and he began to leap about and
make ideous contortions, shaking his chains with a
kind of pleasure.
In this appalling situation Desfosseux waited with
impatience until the madman fell asleep to go out at
the wicket. About midnigbt, hearing him move no
longer, be advanced ﬁrst one leg and then the other,
when he was seized by the madman with a powerful
grasp, who threw him on the straw and placed himself
before the wicket, where he remained till daylight mo-
tionless as a statue. The next night another attempt,
and another obstacle. Desfosseux, who grew dis-
tracted, employed his strength, and a tremendous
struggle ensued: Desfosseux, being struck by his chains,
and covered with bites and blows, was compelled to
call for the keepers. They mistaking him at ﬁrst for
one of the madmen who had got loose, were also about
to put him in a cell; but he managed to make himself
known, and at length obtained the favour of being
brought back to us. I '
We remained eight days in the dungeon, after which
' M 2


126 MEMOIRS or vinoco.
I was put in the Chaussée, where I found a party of
risoners who had received me so well on my arrival.
hey were making good cheer and denied themselves
nothing: for, independently of the money procured
by the ‘ letters of Jerusalem,’ they had got a supply
from some females whom they knew, and who con-
stantly visited them. Having become, as at Douai,
the object of special vigilance, I still sought to escape:
when at length the day arrived for the departure of
the chain. '
CHAPTER VIII.
The departure of the chain—Captain Viez and his'lieu.teiuut~
Thierry—The complaint of the galley-slaves—The visit from
Paris—Humanity of the galley-serjeants—Tbey encouragelplun-
dering—The loaf converted into aportmanteau—Useless at-
tempt to escape—The Bugne at Brest—Tho benediction.
IT was the 20th of November 1797: all the morning
we remarked a more than usual commotion in the pri-
son. The prisoners had not left their cells, and the
gates were every moment opened and shut with much
noise: the jailors went to and fro with a busy air, and
the were knocking off irons, in the great court, of
which the sound reached our ears. About eleven
o’clock two men clothed in blue uniforms entered
Fort-Mahon, where for eight days I had been replaced
with the companions of my essay to escape: it was
the captain of the chain and his lieutenant. “ Well,"
said the captain, smiling in a kind of familiar way,
“ have we any return horses (fugitive galley-slaves) ?”
And whilst he spoke all pressed about, trying who
should testify most respect to him. “ Good day, M.
Viez; good day, M. Thierry,” *esounded from all
sides. These salutations were even repeated by the
'0


MEMOIRS or vmocq. 127
prisoners who had never seen either Viez or Thierry,
but who assuming an air of acquaintance, hoped to
get some favour. It was no wonder if Viez was a
little giddy with so much applause; but as he was ac-
customed to these homages, it did not quite turn his
brain, and he knew very well what he was about. He
perceived Desfosseux. “ Ahl ahl ” said he, “ here
ls a darby cutter (one skilled in cutting 06' his chains),
who has travelled before with us. I heard that you
had a narrow escape of being a head shorter (guil-
lotined) at Douai, my boy. You escaped well by
Jove; for, look you, it is better to go back to the
meadow (Bagne) than let the executioner lay at
pitch and toss with your knowledge-box (head . Be-
sides, my lads, let the world be quiet, and we shall get
beef and celery." The captain had only begun his
inspection and continued it, addressing similar jokes to
all his “ merchandize,” for by that name he called the
condemned prisoners.
The critical moment arrived, and we went into the
Cours des Fers, where the house-surgeon came to us
to examine if we were all in a state to bear the fatigues
of the journey. We were all pronounced adequate,
although some were in a most woful plight. Each
prisoner then puts 06‘ the prison livery and assumes
his own clothes; those who have none have a frock
and trousers of packing-cloth, insuﬁicient to protect
them from the cold and damp. Hats and clothes, if at
all decent belonging to the prisoners, are torn in a
particular way to prevent escape; they take for in-
stance the border oﬁ' the hat and the collar from the
coat. N0 prisoner is allowed to retain more than six
francs; the overplus is- given to the captain, who gives
it on the route in proportion as it is needed. This pre-
caution is easily eluded by placing louis in large sous
hollowed out.
These preliminaries adjusted, we went into the great
court where were the guards of the chain, better
known as argousins, or galley seijeants, who were for


128 'MEMOIRS or vwoco.
the most part men of Auvergne, water-carriers, mesa
sengers, or coalmen, who carried on their trade in the
intervals between the journeys. In the midst of them
was a large wooden chest containing the fetters which
are used in all similar expeditions. We were made to
approach two and two, taking care to match us in
height, by means of a chain of six feet in length, united
to the cordon of twenty-six prisoners, who could thus
only move in a body; each was conﬁned to the chain by
a sort of iron triangle, called the cravat, which, opening
on one side by a turning screw, is closed on the other
with a nail ﬁrmly rivetted. This is the most perilous
part of the operation; the most turbulent and riotous
then keep quiet; for, at the least movement, instead of
falling on the anvil, the blows would break their skull,
which every stroke of the hammer grazes. Then a
prisoner comes with long scissars and cuts oﬂ‘ the hair
and whiskers of the prisoners, pretending to leave
them irregular. ~
At ﬁve in the evening, the fettering was ﬁnished;
the argousins retired, and the prisoners alone remained.
Left to themselves, far from despairing, these men gave
themselves up to all the tumults of riotous gaiety. Some
vociferated horrible jokes, echoed from all sides with
the most disgusting shouts; other's amused 'themselves
by provoking the stupid laughter of their companions
by beastly gestures. either the ears, nor the modesty
were even spared, all that was heard or seen was im-
moral and discordant. it is too true that once lOaded
with fetters, the condemned thinks himself obliged to
trample under foot all that is honoured and respected
by the society which has cast him (3; there are for.
him no longer any restraints, but from material obsta-
cles; his charter is the length of his chain, and he
knows no law but the stick to which his jailor accus-
toms him. Thrown amidst beings, to whom nothing is
sacred, he takes care how he testiﬁes that steady re-
signation which betokens repentance; for then he
would be the butt of a thousand jokes, and his keepers,


marroras or vrnoco. 129
troubled at his serious mood, would accuse him of me-
ditating some plot. It is best, if he would keep them
unsusplcious of his intentions, that he should always
appear reckless and abandoned. A prisoner who sports
with his destiny is never an ob'ect of mistrust; the
experience of the greater part 0 the wretched beings
who have esca ed from the Bagnes prove this. What
is certain is, t at with us, those who had the greatest
interest in escaping were the least de'ected; they were
the leaders. When night came on, t ey began to sing.
Imagine ﬁfty scoundrels, the greater part drunk, all
screeching different airs. In the midst of this din a
“return horse” thundered out with the lungs of a
Stentor, some couplets of “ The Galley Slave’s Com-
plaint.” I
" The chain, the chain,
Makes us complain ,-
But never mind,
We may, leave it behind-
“ Our coats are of a scarlet hue,
We wear no hats on our head
But caps, and they’ve taken our cravats too,
And left us queer ties instead.
’Tis true we are spoil’d children,
And have no right to complain;
And for fear of losing us, now and then,
They fasten us with a chain.
“ Oh, we will make articles ﬁne and nice,
In ‘wood, in straw, in wax,
And sell them below the market price,
For our shops will pay no tax.
And those who come to see our toys
\Vill purchase every day,
And the produce of our hands, my boys.
Will moisten well our clay.
. ﬁ U I t i


130 memoras or vrnoco.
“ Then comes the time to ﬁll the pauncb,
Bring in the beans'so white !
They're not so good as a ﬁne plump hauuch,
But we lack not appetite.
How much more wretched had been our lot,
If, like many a jolly cadet,
Instead ofthe galleys, we’d chanc’d to ’ve got,
To the abbey of Mont~a-r'gret."
All our companions were not so happy; in the third
cordon, composed of the least disorderly, we heard
sobs, saw tears ﬂowing; but these symptoms of grief,
or of repentance, were hailed by the shouts and threats
of the two other cordons, where I ﬁgured in the ﬁrst
rank as a dangerous fellow, from my address and in-
ﬂuence. I had near me two men, one a schoolmaster
condemned for rape; and the other, an ex-oﬁicer of
health, sentenced for forging, who, without mirth or
melancholy talked together with a very calm and na-
tural tone.
“ We are going to Brest,” said the schoolmaster.
“ Yes,” answered the ofﬁcer of health, “ we are
going to Brest; I know the country, I passed through
it when I was sub aide-de-camp in the 16th brigade—-
a good country, upon my word—I shall not be sorry
to see it again. \
“ Is there much amusement ?” asked the peda-
gogue.
“ Amusement! ” said his companion, with an air of
astonishmenti
“ Yes, amusement—I ask you, if we can procure any
little pleasure if we are well treated,--if provisions are
chea .”
“ In the ﬁrst place, you will be taken care of,” re-
lied the oﬂicer, “ and well taken care of, for at the
agne at Brest, only two hours are needed to ﬁnd all
the beans in the soup, while at Toulon the search
would take eight days.”
Here the conversation was interrupted by loud cries,
proceeding from the second division. They were .


MEMOIRS or vmoco. I31
knocking on the head three prisoners, the ex-commis-
sary of war, Lemiére, the staff-major, Simon, and a
robber named the Petit Matelot (little sailor), who were
. accused of having betrayed their comrades by informa»
tion, or of having defeated some plot in prison. The
person who had pointed them out to the vengeance of ~
the galley-slaves, was a young man, who would have
been a good study for apainter, or an actor. With
dilapidated green slippers, a hunting waistcoat, desti-
tute of buttons, and nankeen pantaloons, which seemed
to defy the inclemency of the weather; his head dress
was a helmet without a peak, through the holes of
which a tattered night-cap was visible. In the Bicétre,
he was only known by the name of ‘ mademoiselle,’ and
I learnt that he was one of those degraded wretches,
who abandoned, in Paris, to a course of the most in-
famous prostitution, ﬁnd at the Bagne a theatre
worthy of the most disgusting debaucheries. The ar-
gousins, who ran at the ﬁrst noise, did not give them-
selves the least trouble to get the Petit Matelot from
the hands of the galley slaves, and he died four days
afterwards of the blows he had received. Lemiére and
Simon would also have perished but for my interfe-
rence; I had known the former when in the roving
army, where he had rendered me some service. I de-
clared that it was he who had supplied me with the
tools necessary for undermining the walls at Fort-
Mahon, and thenceforward they left him and his com-
panion unmolested.
We passed the night on the stones in a church, then
converted into a‘magazine. The argousins made re-
gular rounds, to assure themselves that no one was
engaged in ﬁddling (sawing their fetters). At daybreak
we were all on foot; the lists were read over, and the
fetters examined. At six o’clock we were placed in
long cars, back to back, the legs hanging down outside,
covered with hoar frost and motionless from cold. On
reaching St Cyr, we were entirely stripped, to undergo
a scrutiny which extended to our stockings, shoes,


[32 memoxns or VIDOCQ.
shirt, mouth, ears, nostrils, &c. &c. It was not onl
the ﬁles in cases which they sought, but also for watc
springs, which enable a prisoner to cut his fetters in
less than three hours. This examination lasted for
upWards of an hour, and it is really a miracle that one
half of 'us had not our noses or feet frozen oﬁ‘ with
cold. At bed-time, we were heaped together in a
cattle stall, where we laid so close that the body of
one served for the pillow of the person who laid
nearest to him, and if any individual got entangled in
his own, or any other man’s chain, a heavy cudgel rained
down a torrent of blows on the hapless offender. As
soon as we had laid down on a few handfulls of straw,
which had already been used for the litter of the stable,
a whistle blew to command us to the most absolute
silence, which was not allowed to be disturbed by the
least complaint, even when, to relieve the guard placed
at the extremity of the stable, the argousins actually
walked over our bodies.
The supper consisted of a pretended bean soup, and
a few morsels of half mouldy bread. The distribution
was made from large wooden troughs, containing
thirty rations; and the cook, armed with a large pot
ladle, did not fail to repeat to each prisoner, as he
served him, “ One, two, three, four, hold out your
porringer, you thief ;” the wine was put into the same
trough from which the soup and meat were served out,
and then an argousin, taking a whistle, hanging to his
button-hole, blew it thrice; saying, “Attention, rob-
bers, and only answer by a yes or a no. Have you
had bread ? ”—“ Yes.” “ Soup ? ”—“ Yes.” “Meat?”
—“ Yes.” Wine ?”—“ Yes.” “ Then go to sleep,
or pretend to do so.”
A table was laid out at the door, at which the cap-
tain, lieutenant, and chief argousins, seated themselves
to take a repast superior to ours; for these men, who
proﬁtted by all occasions to extort money from the
prisoners, took excellent care of themselves, and eat
and drank abundantly. At this moment the stable


MEMOIRS or vruocq. 133
offered one of the most hideous spectacles that can be
imagined; on‘one'side were a hundred and twenty men
herded together like foul beasts, rolling about their
haggard eyes, whence fatigue or miser banished sleep;
on the other side, eight ill-looking fe ows were eating
greedin without, not for one moment, losing sight of
their carbines or their clubs. A few.miserables can-
dles afﬁxed to the blackened walls of the stable, cast
a murky glare over this scene of horror, the silence of
which was only broken by stiﬂed groans, or the clank
of fetters. Not content with striking us indiscrimi-
‘ nately, the argousins made their detestable and brutal
witticisms about the prisoners; and if a man, fevered
with thirst, asked for water, they said to him, “ Let
him who wants water put out his hand.” The wretch
obeyed, mistrusting nothing, and was instantly over-
whelmed with blows. Those who had any money were
necessarily careful; they were but very few, the long
residence of the majorityin prison having for the most
part exhausted their feeble resources.
These were not the only abuses which mark the
progressvof the galley chain. To economize to his
own proﬁt the expenses of the journey, the captain
generally made one of the cordons to go on foot. But
this cordon was always that of the strongest men, that
is, the most turbulent of the condemned. W0 to the
females whom they met, or the shops which they came
near. The women were assaulted in the grossest
manner, and the shops stripped in a twinkling, as I
saw, at Morlaix, at a grocer’s, who did not save even
a loaf of sugar, or a pound of soap. It may be asked,
what the guards were about during the commission of
this oﬁ'ence? The guards were pretending to be very
busily preventing it, but without opposing any real
obstacle to it, nowing that they would ultimately
proﬁt by the plunder, since the prisoners must sell
their booty through their medium, or exchange with
them for strong liquors. It was the same with the
thefts made on the prisoners who were added to the
N


134 MEMOHLS or vrnocu.
achain in its passage‘; scarcely were they ironed, when
their neighbours hustled them, and took from them all
the little sums they might have.
Far from preventing or checking these spoliations,
the argousins even suggested them, as I saw them do with
an ex-gendarme who had sewed up a few louis in his
leather bre'eches. “Here is some fat!” said they,
and in less than three minutes, the poor devil was
pennyless. At such times the party attacked call out
oudly for the argousins, who take good care not to ‘
approach until the robbery be perfected, and they
thump, with heavy cudgels, the poor wretch who has
been plundered. At Rennes, the bandits I am
speaking "of carried their infamy to such an extent,
as to despoil a sister of charity, who had brought us
some tobacco and money, in a stall where we were to
pass the night. The most crying of these abuses have
disappeared, but many yet exist, which it will be difﬁ-
cult to root out, if we consider to what sort of men
the conducting of the chain must be entrusted, and
the materials they have to work upon,
Our toilsome journey endured for twenty-four days,
and on reaching Pont-a—Lezen, we were placed in the
depot of the Bagne, when the prisoners perform a kind
of quarantine, until they have recovered from their
fatigue and it has been ascertained whether they
have any contagious disease. On our arrival we were
washed in pairs, in large tubs ﬁlled with warm water,
and on quitting the bath 'our clothes were allotted to
us. 'I received like the others, a red frock or cassock,
two pair of trowsers, two sail cloth shirts, two pair
of shoes, and a green cap; each garment and article
was marked with the initials GAL, and the cap had
besides a tin plate, on which was the number of the
entry in the register. When they ‘hadgiven us our
clothing, they rivetted an iron ring round the leg, but
did not con le us.
The depot of Pont-a-Lezen, being a sort of laza-
retto, there was not a very rigorous vigilance kept up. I


136 manoms or vmoco.
v
dragged myself along, as well as I was able, to the door
of the de 6t, to return to my cell, thinking thereby
to diminish _ the number of blows which would be
assuredly bestowed upon me. A sister whom I asked
for, and to whom I told all, had me conveyed into a
room where my feet were dressed. This excellent
woman, who compassionated my lot, went to the com-
mandant of the depot, and obtained my pardon by her
solicitations, and at the end of three weeks, being
com letely recovered, I was conveyed to Brest.
T e Bagne is situated in the bosom of the bay;
piles of guns, and two pieces of cannon, mounted at
the gates, pointed out to me the entrance, into which
I was introduced, after having been examined by the
two guards of the establishment. The boldest of the
condemned, however hardened, have confessed that
it is impossible to express the emotions of horror ex-
cited by the‘ ﬁrst appearance of this abode of wretch-
edness. Each room containing twenty night camp
couches, called bancs (benches), on which lie six
hundred fettered convicts, in long rows, with red garbs,
heads shorn, eyes haggard, dejected countenances,
whilst the perpetual clank of fetters conspires to ﬁll
the soul with horror. But this impression on the con-
vict soon passes away, who feeling that 'here he has
no cause to blush at the presence of any one, soon
identiﬁes himself with his situation. That he may not
be the butt of the gross jests and ﬁlthy buﬂ'oonery of
his fellows, he effects to participate in them; he even
exceeds them; and soon in tone and gesture this con-
ventional depravity gets hold of his heart. >Thus, at
Anvers, an ex-bishop experienced, at ﬁrst, all the out-
pourings of the riotous jokes of his companions; they
always addressed him as monseignenr, and asked his
blessing in all their obscenities; at every moment
they constrained him to profane his former character
by blasphelnous words, and by dint of reiterating these
impieties, he contrived to shake of their attacks; at a.
subsequent period he became the. public-house keeper,


MEMOIRS or vrnocq. 137
at the Bagne, and was always styled monseigneur, but
he was no longer asked for absolution, for he would
haVe answered with the grossest blasphemies.
It is on days of rest, particularly, that the recital of
crimes often imaginary, of close connesions, and in-
famous compliances, complete the corruption of a
man, whose punishment for aﬁrst fault exposes him to
this pernicious contact. To prevent this, it has been
in contemplation to do away with the system of Bagnes
altogether. At ﬁrst, opinion was unanimous on this
point, but when a substitution of punishment became
the matter in question, plans were very variously
sketched out; some proposed penitentiaries, like those
of Switzerland and the United States; others, and
these are the majority, have advocated colonization.
adducing the happy results, and prosperity of the
English establishments in New South Wales, better
known as Botany Bay.
Let us see if France is in a condition to enjoy these
happy results and this prosperity.
1; ..‘
CHAPTER IX.
0f the colonization of the convicts.
“ SEE, say the partisans of colonization, see the
ﬂourishing report of New South Wales, it is only
‘forty years since the English began to send con-
victs there,- and already the country contains ﬁve
cities; arts and luxury are cultivated, and printing is
established. At Sydney Cove, the capital of the co-
lony, there are philosophicab and agricultural socie-
ties ; a catholic and two methodist chapels. Although
the greater part of the planters and under-magis—
trates are freed convicts, or those who have undergone
N 2


138 memoms 0v vmocq.
their sentence, yet all conduct themselves well and be-
comevexcellent citizens. Women, the disgrace and
refuse of their sex in the metropolis, women already
mothers, but covering with op robrium all that
pertained to them, are now, wit new connexions,
models of sobriety and chastity. There is another
argument to be adduced in support of this system,
which has importance. The labour of the convicts
in England, competing with that of a number of re-
ar and free workmen, has a mischievous tendency
1n leaving the latter without work, and consequently
increase the numbers thrown on the parish for sup-
ort; thus, instead of bein productive, their labour is
injurious. In New South ales, on the contrary, far
from rivalling the English workman, the transport
consumes his productions, since only English manu-
factures are admitted there. The importation amounts
to three hundred and ﬁfty thousand pounds sterling,
and the exportation of indigenous "productions is cal-
culated at a third of this sum; a decided argument in
favour of colonization, and we may ask what pre-
vents France from participating in so advantageous a
system?” '
This is doubtlessly very grand, but will it be per-
manent? Can we draw the inference that it will be
equally applicable to France? To the ﬁrst question, I
will say that, in England, they are scarcely more una-
nimous on the subject than we are as to the advan-
tages of colonizing convicts in general, and as to
the results of the colonies of New South Wales, in
particular. Inde endently of every other considera-
tion, however, t ey aﬂ'ord to British commerce most
valuable stations between India, China, the isles of
Junda, and all the oriental Archipelago. Such ad-
vantages, which might perhaps have been obtained
without having recourse to colonization, do not appear
however to compensate for the enormous expenses
which have at ﬁrst occurred, and which continue still,
to the detriment of the nation; the government having,


MEMOIRS or VIDOCQ. 139
for some years, had to support a number, varying from
eight to ten thousand convicts, whom they are unable
to employ usefully. This fact perfectly accounts for
the proposition submitted to the House of Commons,
to send out to New South Wales, and its auxiliary
establishments, Irish emigrants; the poor’s rates would
proportionally decrease, and the emigrant planters
would employ the trans orts, who by clearing away
and preparations, would ave paved the way for esta-
blishing themselves.
In the meantime, until the determination of govern~
ment, the unemployed convicts lead, according to their
own statements, a very agreeable life, since on a recent
enquiry it has been found that many individuals have
purposely committed an offence punishable by trans-
ortation, that they might be sent out to the colony.
umanity will certainly approve such results, if mild-
ness soothes the manners of the convicts, but we know
that idleness only increases bad inclinations, and this
is proved from the return to vicious courses of
those who return to England on the expiration of
their sentence. Their amendment is scarcely more
perceptible at the colony, for it is well known that of
the three chapels, built at Sidney Cove, they have
burnt two, with the intention of frustrating the order
which constrains them to attend divine service.
The women, who are represented as puriﬁed by the
change of hemisphere, testify for the greater part a
sort of libertinism, incited in some measure by the
vast numerical disproportion of the two sexes, which
is as fourteen males for one female. Marriage with a
convict, pardoned or freed, procuring them immediate
liberty, the ﬁrst thing sought by the women on their
arrival at the depot of Paramatta, is to get married to
aman in these circumstances. They thus often get
hold of an old man; a wretch, whom they. leave aﬁver
8 few days, and return to Sydney, where they can
freely abandon themselves to any species of excess.
The result is, that surrounded by corrupt examples,


140 rumours or vrnocq.
the females who are born from this promiscuous con-
nexion prostitute themselves at a very tender age.
From these facts, accidentally elicited by inquiries
into the state of the country by parliamentary dis‘
cussions, it results, that colonization is far from
inﬂuencing, as has been unfoundedly believed, the
morals of the convicts ; and it is besides now decided
that it would be almost impracticable for France.
The ﬁrst and most potent objection is, the entire want
of aﬁtting place for transportation; for to form an
establishment at Sainte-Marie de Madagascar, the only
one of the French possessions at all suitable for such
an object, would be sending to almost certain death,th
only the convicts, but the governors and guards. The
small number of those whom the climate would not
have destroyed, would not fail to seize on the sta-
tionary vessels, turn pirates, as has been frequently
the case at New South Wales; and, instead of a peni-
_ tentiary establishment, we should ﬁnd that we had
only formed a new horde of buccaniers. Again, it is
impossible to think of sending the convicts to any of
our colonies, not even to Guyana, where the vast
savannahs Would not be, sufficient to secure an
_ indispensable isolation; and escapes would be soon
multiplied, and the colonists would call to mind the
lesson given, it is said, by Franklin to the English
government, who at that period were sending the
convicts to the United States. It is asserted that:
immediately on the arrival of a transport at Boston,
he sent to the minister, Walpole, four boxes of rattle_
snakes, begging him to set them free in Windsor park,
“ so that,” he said, “ the species might be propagated
and become as advantageous to England as the con‘
victs had been to North America.”
Even at the present day, escapes at New South
Wales are more general than may be thought; and
/ this is proved by a passage from a narrative published
in London by a liberated convict, who, without heed_
inghow much he might compromise the reputation of


nanoms or VIDOCQ. 14l
the establishment, was won apprehended for com-
mitting fresh offences.
“ When the termination of my exile had arrived, I
had determined on quitting the colony; Iembarked
as servant to a gentleman and lady, formerly convicts,
who had amassed suﬂicient to pay their expenses to
England and settle there. It may be thought that my
mind was quite satisﬁed and at ease, but this was not
the case. I was never more disturbed nor more
uneasy than at the moment when I embarked on
board this vessel, and for this reason: I had clandes-
tinely brought away with me six convicts, old com-
panions of mine, and concealed them in the hold of
the ship. They were men for whom I had a articular
esteem; and it is the duty of a convict who eaves the
land of exile never to leave a friend behind him if he
can contrive the means of. aiding his escape. What
incessantly disturbed me was the necessity of providing
for the wants of these men; and to do this I was
obliged to turn thief again; so that from one moment
to another I rendered myself and them liable to
detection. Every evening I was obliged to visit the'
provisions of each person, and ,carry the produce of
my thefts to them.
“ There were a great many passengers on board,
and I made each contribute in his turn, that it might
be the less sensibly felt, and be the longer time of
service to me. In spite of my precautions, I often
heard them say one to the other, that their provisions
went fast and they could not discover how. What
most embarrassed me was the raw meat, which how-
ever my comrades were compelled to devour; and
sometimes I could not get any, particularly when the
moon shonebrightly, and then I was compelled to
steal a double allowance of bread; My master
having desired me to cook for him and his wife, the
opportunity was of course made proﬁtable. If I made
broth or a hash I took care to retain half, which took
the road to the hold. All that I could get besides


MEMOIRS OF VIDOCQ.
went there too; for I freqriented the cook’s kitchen,
on whom I also constantly levied contributions.
“ There was on board a friend of mine, a. cooper,
who, having staid the time of his sentence, was re-
turning like me to England. I had let him into my
conﬁdence, and he served me greatly in my thefts on
the cook; for instance, he drew him on one side and
occupied him whilst I was carrying off something of
everything that came to hand. Besides the cooper,
there was a sailor on board who was also in the secret,
but who, as it will appear in the sequel, was a conﬁ-
dant too many. '
“ One Sunday, after we had been a month at sea,
the cooper and the sailor were talking together in the
forecastle, when a dispute arose about some triﬂe. I
was at the moment trying to open a chest to get some
provisions from it. when the sailor, who had left the
cooper, came up to me. Deceived by the darkness of
the night, for it was about nightfall, and taking me for
some other person, he struck me on the shoulder,
saying, ‘ Where is the captain ?’ I answered him,
and on recognizing me, he ran into the captain’s cabin
crying with all his might, ‘ Murder! murder! we are
all lost! The ship will be taken; there are ten men
concealed in the hold, and so and so (meaning me and
the cooper) are in the plot; they want to murder us
and make of with the ship!’
“ The captain, immedlately calling his mate, went
with him on deck, and ordered all hands to assemble
there. When we had all met, the sailor again pointed
out me and the cooper as the principals in the plot,
asserting that there were ten men in the hold. They
went down with lights, but returned without discover.
ing anything, so well'had my men concealed them.
selves. At length, the captain not liking to be defeated,
determined on ﬁlling the hold with smoke, and the
poor devils were compelled to come out for fear of
being choked.. On . getting on deck they cut a most
miserable ﬁgure,.for since their departure from Sydney


mamoms or VIDOCQ. , 143
Cove they had neither been shaved nor washed, and
their clothes were in rags. What made the sight- still
more wretched was, that the night was dark, and the
deck was illuminated by a solitary lanthorn.
“ The captain began by putting fetters on the new
comers; then, after having questioned them, and being
assured that there were only six of them, he made
them lie down without food on the deck. The second
act of the piece consisted in treating the cooper and
myself in a similar manner. When we were all to-
gether, they threw a large sail over us, like a net, and
thus we passed the night. The next day, early, we
went below, one after the other, with a rope round
our waists, to the bottom of the hold, and were put in
a hole so dark that we could not see each other. We
were left there on the bare plank, and for food we
had a pint of water and a pound of biscuitdaily. We
received this distribution without seeing it; for the
sailor who brought it to us announced his arrival by
a cry to us to extend our hands; and on receiving this
pittance we divided it amongst us entirely in the dark.
“ We were kept in this situation for forty mortal
days, that is, until the ship reached the Cape of Good
Hope, where she was to touch. The captain went to
the governor to announce to him that he had some
fugitive convicts on board, and to ask whether he could
not disembark them, and have them conﬁned in the
prison of Cape Town; but the governor said he Would
ave nothing to do with such people, and would not
allow them to be landed. However, the captain soon
consoled himself for this, on learning that there was
an Irish ship in the harbour laden with convicts for
Botany Bay. He made an arrangement with the
captain of this ship, and induced him to take my poor
comrades with him. They were taken from their
dungeon for this purpose, and I never saw them
'11-”
The obstacles which I have mentioned are so serious
that I shall not touch on the consequences of a naval


144 MEMOIRS or VlDUCQ.
war on the spot, intercepting all communication and
all conveyances. In aid of the pursuits of science,
we have seen belligerent powers aﬂ'ord a free passage
to naturalists and mathematicians, but it may be
doubted whether, for the sake of morals, the same
favour would be shown to convicts, who might, after
all, be only soldiers disguised.
Let us however for a moment admit that these
obstacles are removed, and that transportation is
possible, should it be perpetual for all convicts indif-
erently? Or should we go on the plan observed with
the galley-slaves, by graduating the term of labour?
In the ﬁrst case, you would destroy 'all proportion
between punishments and crimes; since the man who, -
according to this code would only have to serve a
certain time at the galleys, would not see his country
again any more than the man sentenced to trans-
portation for life. In En land, where the least period
of sentence (seven years is assigned as well to a
robbery of twenty-four sous as or severe violence
exercised against a magistrate, this disproportion
exists; but it often palliates the severities of a legis-
lation which punishes with death oﬁ'ences sentenced
by us only to imprisonment. So, at the English
assizes it is no uncommon thing to hear a prisoner,
after sentence of transportation has been passed upon
him, say, “ Thank’ye, my lord.”
If the transportation be not for life, we should fall
into the delusion which the Counsels generally point
out every year, by exclaiming against the mixing of
the liberated convicts with the people. Our freed
transports would return to society with nearly the
same vices that they had contracted at the Bagne. All
tends to conﬁrm the idea that they would be more
incorrigible than the transported Englishman, whom
a national s irit for travelling and colonization fre-
quently attac es to the soil where he has been trans_
planted.
P“:
Considering, then, colonization as nearly impossible,


MEMOIRS OF VIDOCQ-
145
it only remains to ameliorate, as much as possible, the
morals of' the convicts; to introduce to the Bagnes
reforms pointed out by experience. The ﬁrst would
consist in classing the convicts according to their
dispositions; and for that it would be necessary to
consult not only their present behaviour, but also
their previous conduct and acquaintance; a point not
at all considered at the Bagnes, where the only thought
is how to prevent escape. Men disposed to amend
might obtain those little indulgences now bestowed on
the most daring thieves—on convicts sentenced for
life, whom they favour that they may not think of
means of escape. It would, in fact, be proper to
< abridge the punishments, to effect the improvement of
the prisoners; for the man whom a stay of six months
at the Bagne would correct, would leave it at the end
of ﬁve years entirely depraved.
Another precaution taken with those convicts who
have many years to labour is, that of coupling them
with those who have only a short sentence to undergo.
They think thus to give them watchmen, who, unac-
customed to blows of the stick, and fearing to prolong
their detention by being suspected as accomplices,
would tell of the least attempt at escape. It follows,
that the novice, yoked with the perfect villain, would
be soon corrupted. On the days of rest, when the
prisoners are not chained to the benches till evening,
e necessarily follows his companion into the society
of other bandits, who complete his degradation by
testifying whatever the passions can produce that is
mostratrocious and appalling. I am understood. But
is it not disgraceful, to see publicly organised a pros-
titution which, even in the midst of great cities, shrinks
from the general eye into the shades of mystery?
Why are not these disgusting excesses prevented, by
shutting up in solitary conﬁnement the young men
who are usually the victims reserved to ﬁgure in these
horrible Saturnalia.
It is also indispensany necessary to prevent the
VOL. I. 0
.f-


MEMOIRS OF VIDOCQ.
abuses of ardent spirits, which excite the convicts to
a state contrary to the calm so necessary for them to
be kept in, if we would have reﬂection bring on repent~
I ance. We do not mean to say that they should be
entirely separated, as is the case in the United States
in some instances, but this can scarcely be put in force
without inconvenience with men sentenced to hard
labour; we must watch that the orders and regula- '
tions of the prison be properly carried into effect by
the prisoners who receive them. At the same time
that We should preserve the health of those unfor-
tunates, we should prevent serious disorders. On
the days of relaxation it often happens, that a convict,
desirous of a debauch, pledges his allowance for a
fortnight for the present advances of some comrades.
He gets drunk and disorderly, and is accordingly
beaten, and then reduced to water and bean soup,
when he needs more nourishing provisions to support
him. There are, besides, other modes of roviding
for these orgies, they rob the workshops, t e maga-
zines, and in the wood-yards. Some pilfer the copper-
sheathing, of which they make six liard pieces, which
they sell at a much lower price to the country people;
others steal the tools with which the little toys are
formed which are sold to visitors; others take logs of
wood, which chopped into small pieces, go to the
ﬁres of the argousins, who are thus in a measure con-
ciliated. I am told, that at the present day, this
system has been reformed, ,and I am happy to hear it :
all that I can say is, that when I was at Brest it was
as “ notorious as the sun at noon day,” that no ar-
gousin ever bought ﬁre-wood.
‘ It is in the blacksmiths’ workshops that the pri.
soners instruct each other in the art of forging false
keys and other instruments for opening doors, such
as ripping-chisels (cadets), pincers (monseigneurs),
picklocks (rossignols), &c. &c. This objection is per.
aps irremedlable, in a port where ships are to be
ﬁtted out; but why should such workshops be allowed


MEMOIRS osvrnoco. 147
in prisons in the interior of the country? I will add,
that the labour of the convicts, of whatever kind, is
far from being as productive as that of free mecha-
nics; but it is an abuse which it is nearly hopeless to
think of eradicating or reforming. The cudgel may
certainly compel the convict to work, because there is
a decided difference between activity and rest; but no
chastisement can awaken in the breast of the convict
that instinctive ardour which alone accelerates labour,
and directs it to perfection. Besides, government
must consider as very insigniﬁth the produce of a
convict’s daily work, since it is never alluded to in the
budget or receipts of the state. The total expense
of the galley-slaves (chiourmes), classed under its
different heads, amounts to the sum of 2,718,900
francs (1132811.); these are some of the expenses—
Dress of the prisoners 220,500 francs
3 Ditto freed convicts 23,012
Expenses for shoes and stockings... 72,900
Ditto for making fetters 11,250
Ditto of capture 7,000
Ditto of conveyance of chain 130,000
Then came the salaries of the clerks and ofﬁcers,
pay, clothing, allowance of the guard, &c.
To render these expenses really useful, and to
pursue measures of amelioration, so long and loudly
called for, and which can only be attained gradually,
we cannot too strongly recommend to the guardians,
that moderation of conduct which should not be de-
parted from even in inﬂicting the severest punishment.
I have seen the galley-guards goad the wretched con-
victs to desperation, by ill-treating them, as their
humours might dictate; and as if to sport with their
misery, one of these brutes would say to a new
comer, “ What is your name? Iwill wager that your
name is Dust—Well, my name is Wind, and I make
the Dust ﬂy ;” and then bastinado him in a most
severe manner. Many galley-guards have been assas-
sinated for thus provoking the convict, and rous-


I48 MEMOIRS or vmoco.
ing him to revenge that nothing will make him losc
si ht of.
gIn the sequel of these Memoirs, I shall have occa-
sion to return to this subject, when I touch on the
system of surveillance, which is a new punishment for
freed men.
The inconveniences and abuses that I have just
adverted to existed at the prison of Brest when I was
I conducted thither, and were additional inducements to
make my sojourn as brief as possible. In such a situa
tion, the ﬁrst thing is to assure oneself of the discretion
of the comrade with whom we may be coupled. Mine
was a vine-cutter from Dijon, about thirty years old,
condemned to twenty-four years’ labour for forcible
burglary; already half an ideot, misery and brutal
treatment had completely stupiﬁed him. Bowed be-
neath the stick, he seemed to have just preserved
the instinct of a monkey or a dog, and thus answered
the whistle of the galley-seljeants. He was of no use
to me, and Iwas compelled to look out for a mate who
would not fear or‘ shrink from the perspective beatings
which are always liberally bestowed on convicts sus-
pected of favouring, or even conniving at the esca e of
a prisoner. To get rid of Bourguignon, I feigned
indisposition, and he was yoked to another, and when
I recovered, I was placed with a poor devil sentenced
to eight years labour for stealing chickens from a
church.
He had not entirely parted with his senses, and the
ﬁrst time we were alone together, said to me-—-“ Listen,
comrade; I can see you do not mean to live long at
the public expense-be frank with me, and you will
not lose by it.” I told him that I intended to escape
at the ﬁrst opportunity. “ Well,” said he, “ I advise
you to bolt before the beasts of serjeants are quite
acquainted with your phiz;—but have you any cash ?"
I told him that I had, and he then informed me that
he could procure me other habiliments, but that I must
buy a few utensils like one who meant to work out his


MEMOIRS or vrnocq. 149
\
time quietly. These utensils were two wooden bowls,
a wine keg, straps to support my fetters, and a small
mattress stuffed with 0a um. It was Thursday, the
sixteenth day of my conﬁnement at the Bagne, and on
the Saturday eveningI obtained sailor’s clothes, which
I immediately put on under my convict’s frock. On
paying the seller of them, I saw that he had about his
wrists round cicatrices of deep burns, and Ilearnt,
that being condemned to the gallies for life in 1776,
he had been put to the torture at Rennes,without
confessing the robbery of which he was accused. On
the promulgation of the code of 1791, his sentence was
commuted to twenty~four years' labour at the gallies.
The next day, my division went out, at the cannon’s
signal, to work at the pump, which was always in
motion. At the wicket they examined, as usual, our
manacles and clothing; knowing this practice, I had
pasted over my sailor’s garb a bladder painted ﬂesh-
colour. As I purposely left my frock and shirt open,
none of the guards thought of examining me more
closely, and I got out unsuspected. Arrived at this
basin, I retired with my comrade behind a pile of
planks, and my fetters having been cut the previous
evening, soon yielded. Having got rid of these, I soon
threw off my galley-frock and trowsers, and puttin on
under my leathern cap a wig which I had brought rom
Bicétre, and having given my comrade the triﬂing re-
compense which I had promised him, I disappeared,
cautiously gliding behind the piles of timber.
02


150 manoms or vinocq.
CHAPTER X.
The pursuit after the galleyslave-The village mayor-The
voice of blood—The hospital—Sister Francoise—Faust the
second—The mother of robbers.
I PASSED through the wicket without diﬂiculty, and
found myself in Brest, a place entirely unknown to
me ; and the fear that my doubt as to what road I
should take might induce suspicion, increased my un~
easiness. At length, after a thousand ins and outs,
turnings and twistings, I reached the only gate of the
city, where was always stationed an old galley-guard,
named Lachique, who detected a convict by a look, a
motion, or turn; and what rendered his observations
more easy is, that whoever passes any time at the
Bagne, drags habitually and involuntarily that leg to
which the fetter has been fastened. However, it was
necessary to pass this dreaded personage, who was
smoking very sedately, ﬁxing his hawk’s eye on all
who went in and came out. I had been warned, and
determining to exercise all my eﬁ'rontery, on getting
up to Lachique, I put down a pitcher of buttermilk,
which I had purchased to render my disguise the more
complete, and ﬁlling my pipe, I asked him for a light.
He gave it readily, and With all the courtesy he was
capable of, and after we had blown a few whiﬂ's in each
others’ faces, I'lett him and went on my way.
I went straight forward for three quarters of an
hour, when I heard the cannon shots which were ﬁred
to announce the escape of a convict, so that the pea-
santry of the neighbourhood may be informed that
there is a reward of one hundred francs to be obtained
by the lucky individual who may apprehend the fugitive.
I saw many persons armed with guns and scythes scour
about the country, and beat every bush, and even the
smallest tufts of heath. Some labourers appeared to
take their arms out with them as a precaution, for I


MEMOIRS or VIDOCQ- 151
saw several quit their work with a gun which they took
out of a furrow. One of these latter passed near me
in a cross-road which I had taken on hearing the report
of the cannon, but they had no suspicion of me, for I
was clad very well, and my hat being off by reason of
the heat, they saw my hair curled, which could not
be the case with a convict.
I continued striking into all the bye-ways, and avoid-
ing towns and detached houses. At twilight I met
two women whom I asked about the road, but they
answered me in a dialect which I did not comprehend,
but on showing them some money, and making signs
that I was hungry, they conducted me to a small village
to.a cabaret, kept by the garde-champetre (patrole),
whom I saw in the chimney nook, decorated with his
insignia of oﬁice. I was for a moment disturbed, but
soon recovering myself, I said I wished to speak to
the mayor. “ I am he,” said an old countryman with
a woollen cap and wooden shoes, seated at a small
table and eating an oaten cake. This was a fresh dis'
appointment to me, who relied on escaping in my way
from the cabaret to the mayor’s house. However, I
had the difﬁculty to contend with, and surpass in some
way or other. 'I told the wooden-shoed functionary,
that having lost myself on leaving, Morlaix for Brest,
Ihad wandered about, and asking him at the same
time how far it was from this latter city, and express-
ing a desire to sleep there that evening.—-“ You are
ﬁve leagues from Brest,” said he, “ and it is impossi-
ble to reach it this evening; if you will sleep here, I
will give you a bed in my barn, and tomorrow you can
start with the garde-champétre, who is going to carry
back a fugitive convict whom we apprehended yes-
terday.”
These last words renewed all my terrors, for by
the tone in which they were uttered,I saw that the
mayor had not credited the whole of my story. I,
however, accepted his obliging offer; but after supper,
at the instant we reached the barn, putting my hands


152 manoms or vrooco.
in my pockets, I cried out with all the energy of a
man in despair—“ Oh, heavens! Ihave left at Mor-
laix my pocket-book, with my passport and eight
double louis. I must return this moment, yes, this
very moment, but how shall I ﬁnd my way? If the
patrole, who knows the road, would go with me, we
should be back in time in the morning to set out
early with the galley-slave.” This proposal routed all
suspicions, for a man who wishes to escape seldom
solicits the company he would fain avoid; on the
other hand, the garde—champetre, smelling a reward,
had buttoned on his gaiters at the ﬁrst word. We set
out accordingly, and at break of day reached Morlaix.
My companion, whom I had taken care to ly well
with liquor on the road, was already pretty we in for
it, and I completed him with some rum at the ﬁrst
pot-house we reached in the city. He staid there to
Wait for me at the table, or rather under the table, and
he might have waited long enough.
I asked the ﬁrst person I met to direct me on the
road to Vannes, and on being told, I set out, as the
Dutch proverb has it, “with my feet shod by fear."
Two days passed without accident, but on the third,
some leagues from Guemené, at a turning of the road,
I met two gendarmes, who were returning from duty.
The unexpected vision of yellow breeches and laced
hats gave me uneasiness, and I made an effort to
escape, when my two gentlemen desired me to halt,
making at the same time a very signiﬁcant gesture with
their carbines. 'They came up to me, and having no
credentials to show them, I invented a reply on the
spur of the moment. “ My name is Duval, born at
l’Orient, deserter from the Cocarde frigate, now in
the roadstead at St Malo.” It is useless to say, that
I had learnt all this during my stay at the Bagne,
where we had daily accounts from all parts. “ What l”
cried the chief, “ you must be Auguste—son of father
Duval, who lives at l’Orient, on the terrace near the
Boule d’or.” I did not deny this, for it would have


MEMOIRS or vmocq. 153
been worse to have been detected as a fugitive convict.
“ Parbleu !” added t e brigadier, “ I am sorry you are
caught, but that cannot now be helped; I must send
you to l’Orient or to St Malo.” I begged him not to
send me to the former of these towns, not caring to be
confronted with my new relation, in case they should
desire to conﬁrm the identity of my person. How-
ever, the quarter-master gave orders that I should be
conducted thither, and the next day I reached l’Orient,
when I was entered in the jailor’s book, at Pontainau,
the naval prison, near the new Bagne, which was to be
peopled by convicts brought hither from Brest.
Being next day questioned by the commissary of the
marine, I again declared that I was Auguste Duval;
and that I had left my ship without ermission, to go
and see my parents. I was then le back to prison,
where I found, amongst other sailors, a young man of
l’Orient, accused of striking a lieutenant. Having
talked sometime with him, he said to me one morning,
“ My boy, if you will pay for breakfast, I will tell you
a secret worth knowmg.” His mysterious air dis-
turbed me, and made me anxious to know all; and
after breakfast he said to me, “ Trust to me and
then I can extricate you. I do not know who you
are, but I am sure you are not young Duval, for he
has been dead these two years, at Saint Pierre, at
Martinique. (I started.) Yes, he has been dead
these two years, but no one knows it, so well are our
colonial hospitals regulated. Now I can give you
such statements about his family, that you may pass
for him even with his parents, for he left home when
he was Very youn . To make quite sure, you can
feign a weakness 0 intellect, produced by sea toil and
sickness. Besides, before Auguste Duval went to sea,
he had a mark tatooed on his left arm, as most sailors
have; I know it well; it was an altar with a garland
on it. If you will remain a fortnight in the cell with
me, I will mark you in a similar manner, so that all the
world could not detect the imposture.” '


'154 MEMOIRS or vrnoco.
My friend a peared‘frank and open-hearted, and I may
account for t e interest he took 'n me, by his desire to
trick justice, a feeling that pervades the minds of all
risoners; for them to deceive it, mislead it, or delay
at, is'a pleasurable vengeance, which they willingly pur-
chase at the expense of a few weeks’ conﬁnement.
Here was such an opportunity, and the means were
soon putjn action. Under the windows of our room
was a sentinel, and we began by pelting him with pieces
of bread; and as he threatened to tell the jailor of us,
we dared him to put his menaces into execution. On
this, when he was relieved, the corporal, who was a
meddling fellow, went to the ofﬁce ; and the next mo-
ment the jailor came to take us, without even telling
us the reason of our removal. But we soon found it
out, on entering a sort of hole in the sunken ditch,
Very damp, but tolerany light. Scarcer were we shut
in, than in comrade commenced operations, in which
he perfectfy succeeded. It consisted only in pricking
my arm with several needles tied together, and dipped
in Indian ink and carmine. 'At the end of twelve days
the wounds closed, so that it was impossible to tell
how long they had been made. My companion also
took advantage of this “ leisure undisturbed,” to give
me additional details concerning the Duval family,
whom he had known from childhood, and was in fact
related to them, and instructed even in the minutest
habitual trick of my Sosia.
These instructions were of unspeakable advantage
to me, when, on the sixteenth day after of our deten-
tion in the dungeon, I was taken out to be confronted
with.my father, whom the commissary of marine had
sent for. My comrade had so well described him, that
I could not be mistaken on perceiving him. I threw
m arms about his neck; he recognized me; his wife,
w 0 came soon after, recognized me; a female cousin
and an uncle recognized me,- and I was so undoubtedly
Auguste Duval, that the commissary himself was con-
vinced of it! But this was not suﬁicient to procure


MEMOIRS or vxnoco. 155
my liberation; as a deserter from the Cocarde, I was
to be sent to Saint Malo, where she had left several
men at the hospital, and then be tried before the ma-
ritime court. To tell the truth, I felt no alarm at all
this; certain that I should ﬁnd means of escape on my
journey, I set out at length, bathed with my parents’
tears, and the richer by several louis, which I added
to the stock already concealed about me.
Until we reached Quimper, where I was to be
handed over to another guard, no opportunity pre-
sented of bidding adieu to the company of gendarmes
who guarded me, as well as many other individuals,
robbers, smugglers, or deserters. We were placed in
the town jail, and on entering the chamber where I
was to pass the night, I saw at the foot of the bed a
red frock, marked on the back can, initials but too
well known to me. There, covered with a tattered
quilt, slept a man, whom, by his green cap decked with
the tin plate numbered, I recognized as a galley-slave.
Would he know, would he betray me? I was in a
spasm of fear, when the individual, awakened b the
noise of bolts and bars, sat up in his bed, and I new
him to be a young fellow named Goupy, who went to
Brest at the same time as myself. He was condemned
to chains for life, for a forcible burglary in the environs
of Bernai, in Normandy; his father was agalley ser-
jeant at Brest, where, most probably, he did not come
ﬁrst purely for change of air. Not wishing to have
him continually before his sight, he had procured an
order for his removal to the Bagne at Rochfort, and
he was then on his road thither. I told him all my
aﬂairs, and he promised secresy, and kept his promise
the'more faithfully, as it would have proﬁted him
nothing to betray me.
However, the guard did not stir immediately, and.
ﬁfteen days elapsed after my arrival at. Quimper, with-
out any mention of departure. This delay gave me
the idea of penetrating the wall and esca ing; but
having found the impossibility of success, managed


156 MEMOlRS or VIDOCQ.
so as to obtain the conﬁdence of the jailor, and got
an opportunity of executing my project by inspiring
him with an idea of false security. After having told
him that I had heard the risoners plotting something,
I pointed out to him the p ce in the prison where they
had been at work. He made most minute search, and
naturally enough found the hole I had made; and this
discovery procured for me all his kindness. I some-
times found it overpowering, for the watch was kept
so regularly that all my schemes were routed. I be"
gan to think of going to the hospital, where I hoped to
be more fortunate in the execution of my projects.
To give myself a high fever, it was only necessary to.
swallow tobacco juice for a couple of days, and then
the doctors ordered my removal. On getting to the
house, I got in exchange for my clothes a grey cap and
cloak, and was then put along with the rest.
It was a part of my plan to remain for some time
at the hospital, that I might know the ways in and out,
but the illness caused by the tobacco juice would only
last for three or four days, and it was necessary to.
ﬁnd some recipe which would bring on another com-
plaint; for, knowing no one in the place, it was im-
possible for me to get a supply of tobacco juice. At
Bicetre, I had been taught how to produce those
wounds and sores, by means of which so many beggars
excite public pity, and get those alms which cannot be
worse bestowed. Of all these expedients, I adopted
that which consisted in making the head swell like a.
bushel; ﬁrst, because the d0ctors would he certainly
mistaken; and then because it gave no pain, and all
traces of it could be removed by the day following.
My head became suddenly of a prodigious size, and
great was the talk thereof' amongst the doctors of the
establishment, who, not being as it appeared blessed
with a superabundance of skill, knew not what to
think of it. I believe some of them spoke of ele-
phantiasis, or of dropsy in the brain. But, be that as
it may, their brilliant consultation ended in the pre-t


MEMOIRS or vxnoco. 157
scription most common in hospitals, of putting me on
the "most strict regimen.
With money, such orders did not fret me; but yet I
had only gold, and changing that might awaken sus-
picion. However, I determined to try a liberated
convict, who acted as inﬁrmary helper; and this fel-
low, who would do anything for money, soon pro-
cured for me what I desired. On my telling him that
I was desirous of getting out into the town for a few
hours, he said, that if I disguised myself, it would not
be difﬁcult, as the walls were not very high. It was, ,
he said, the way he and his companions got out when
they wanted anything. We agreed that he should
provide me with clothes, and that he should accom-
pany me in my nocturnal excursion, which was to be
avisit to sup with some girls. But the only clothes
he could procure for me inside the hospital were much
too small, and we were compelled to suspend opera-
tions for a time.
Just at this time, one of the sisters of charity passed
by my bed, whom I had already watched in performing
very mundane duties; not that sister Francoise was '
one of those dandiﬁed nuns who were ridiculed on the
stage, before the young nuns were transformed into
boarders, and the white handkerchief was replaced by_
the green apron. Sister Francoise was about thirty-
four, a brunette, with a deep colour, and her powerful
charms created more than one unhappy passion, as
well amongst the soldiers as the inﬁrmary overseers.
On seeing this seducing creature, who weighed perhaps
nearly ﬁfteen stone, the idea occurred to me that I
would borrow for at short time her cloister garb. I
spoke of it jestingly to my overseer, but he took it as
i meant seriously, and promised on the ensuing night
to get a part of sister Francoise’s wardrobe. About
two in the morning, I saw him come with a parcel,
containing a gown, handkerchief, stockings, &c. which
he had carried off from the sister’s cell whilst she was
at matins. All my bed-room companions, nine in
P


MEMOIRS OF VIDOCQ.
number, were soundly asleep, but 1 went out to put
on my attire. What gave me the most trouble was
the head-dress. I had no idea of the mode of ar-
ranging it, and yet the appearance of disorder in these
garments, always arranged with a scrupulous nicety,
would have infalliny betrayed me.
At length, sister Vidocq ﬁnished her toilet, and we
crossed the courts and gardens, and reached a place
where the wall could be easily scaled. I then gave
the overseer ﬁfty francs, nearly all my store; he lent
me a hand, and I was soon in a lonely spot, whence I
reached the country, guided by my indeﬁnite direc-
tions. Although much encumbered with my petti-
coats, I yet walked so fast as to get on at least two
leagues before sun-rise. A countryman whom I met,
going to sell his vegetables at Quimper, and whom I
questioned as to my road, told me that I was jour-
neying towards Brest. This was not the way for me,
and I made the fellow comprehend that I wished to
go towards Rennes, and he pointed out to me a cross
road leading to the high route to this city, which I
immediately took, trembling at every moment, lest I
should meet any of the soldiers of the English army
then lying in the villages between Nantes and Brest.
About ten in the morning, on reaching a small hamlet,
I enquired if there were any soldiers near, evincing
much fear, which was real however, lest they should
examine me, which would have led to a detection.
The person whom I asked was a sacristan, full of
chatter and inquisitiveness, who compelled me to enter
the curate’s house near at hand, to take some re-
freshment.
The curate, an elderly man, whose face betrayed
that benevolence so rare amongst the ecclesiastics who
come into towns to blazon forth their pretensions and
conceal their immorality, received me very kindly.
“ My dear sister,” said he, “ I was about to celebrate
mass; as soon as that is over, you shall breakfast with
us.” Iwas then compelled to go to church, and it


MEMOIRS or vrnoco. ' 159
was no triﬂing embarrassment for me to make the
signs and genuﬂexions prescribed to a nun. Fortu-
natel , the curate’s old female servant was at my side,
and got through very well by imitating her in every
particular. Mass concluded, we sat down to table,
and interrogatories commenced. I told the good
people, that I was going to Rennes to perform pe-
nance. The curate asked nothing more; but the sa-
cristan, pressing me rather im ortunately to know why
Iwas thus punished, I told im, “ Alas! it was fbr
curiosity!” This closed the little man’s month. My
situation was, however, one of difﬁculty; I was afraid
to eat, lest I should betray too manly an appetite ;~
and again, I more frequently said ‘ M. le cure than
‘ my dear brother ;’ so that my blunders would have
betrayed all, had I not terminated the breakfast. I
found means, however, to learn the names of the vil-
lages of the district, and, strengthened by the blessings
of the curate, who promised not to forget me in his
prayers, I went on my way somewhat more accustomed
to my new attire. ‘
I met few people on m way, the wars of the revo-
lution had_depopulated t e wretched country, and I
traversed the villages whilst the inhabitants were all in
bed. Arriving one night at a hamlet, composed of a
few houses, I knocked at the door of a farm-house.
An old woman came to open it to me, and conducted
me to a good-sized parlour, but which might have dis-
puted the pre-eminence in dirt with the ﬁlthiest hovels
of Galicia or the Asturias. The family consisted of
father, mother, a young lad, and two girls, from ﬁfteen
to seventeen years of age. When I went in, they were
making a kind of cake of buck-wheat ﬂour, and were
all around the fryin an; and the group, reﬂected on
5 la Rembrandt, by t e light of the ﬁre only, formed a
picture which a painter would have admired: but as
for me, who had scarcely time to pay attention to the
effects of the light, I eXpressed my desire for some
refreshment. Out of respect to my sacred ofﬁce, they


160 ' memoms or vrnoco.
gave me the ﬁrst cakes, which I devoured without even
feeling that they were so burning hot as to scorch my
palate. I have often since sat down at sumptuous
tables, where I have had abundance of most exquisite
wines, and meats of the most delicate and delicious
ﬂavour, but I can never forget the cakes of the peasant
of Lower Brittany.
On the termination of supper we had prayers, and
then the father and mother lighted their pipes. Suf-
fering greatly from agitation and fatigue, I expressed a
wish to retire. “We have no bed to give you,” said
the master of the house, who, having been a sailor,
spoke very good French: “you shall sleep with my
two girls.” I observed to him that going on a vow I
must sleep on straw, adding that I should be contented
with a corner in the stable. “ Oh;" replied he, “ in
sleeping with Jeanne and Madelon you will not break
your vow, for the bed is only made of straw. Besides,
you cannot be in the stable, for that is already occu-
pied by a tinker and two soldiers, who asked my leave
to pass the night there.” I could say nothing more;
and but too glad to escape the soldiery, I reached the
boudoir of the young ladies. It was a loft ﬁlled with
cider apples, cheese, and smoked bacon : in one comer
a dozen fowls were roosting, and lower down were
hutched eight rabbits. The furniture consisted of a
dilapidated pitcher, worm-eaten joint-stool, and the
fragment of a looking-glass; the bed, like all in that
country, was only a chest shaped like a cofﬁn, half-
ﬁlled with straw, and scarcely three feet wide.
Here was a fresh embarrassment for me; the two
young 'girls undressed very deliberately before me,
who had many and good reasons for seeming very
shy. Independently of circumstances that may be
guessed, Ihad under my female attire a man’s shirt,
which would betray my sex and my incognito. Not to
be detected I took out a few pins very slowly, and
when I saw the two sisters had got into bed I over-
turned, as if by accident, the iron lamp which lighted


MEMOIRS or vinocq. 161
its, and then took off my feminine habits without fear.
On getting between the sail-cloth sheets I laid down
so as to avoid all unlucky detection. It was a tor-
menting night : for without being pretty, mademoiselle
Jeanne, who could not stir without touching me, had
a freshness and plumpness but too attractive for a man
condemned for so long a period to the rigours of ab-
solute celibacy. Those, who have ever been in a simi-
lar situation, will believe without diﬂiculty that I could
not sleep for a single instant.
I was motionless, with my eyes open like a bare in
its form, when long before daylight [heard a knocking
with the butt end of a musket against the door. My
ﬁrst idea, like every man in similar circumstances, was
that they had traced me, and» were coming to appre-
hend me; but I did not know where to conceal my-
self. The blows were rcdoubled : and I then be-
thought me of the soldiers sleeping in the stable, which
dissipated my fears. “ Who is there ‘P ” said the master
of the house, leaping up.—“ Your soldiers.”--“ Well,
what do you want ?”—“ Fire to light our pipes before
we set oﬁl” Our host then arose, and blowing up
the ﬁre left in the ashes, he opened the door to
the soldiers. One of these, looking at his watch by the
lamplight, said, “ It is half-past four o’clock. Come,
let us go; the rations are in good order. -Come, to
the march, my lads.” They went away, and our host,
putting out the lamp, went to bed again. As for me,
not wishing to dress myself in presence of my bed-
fellows any more than undress myself, I imme-
diately mac, and lighting the lamp, ut on my woollen
gown, and then going down on my nees in a corner,
pretended to pray until the family should awake. I
did not remain long in waiting. At ﬁve o’clock in the
morning the mother cried from her bed, “ Jeanne, get
up, and get some soup ready for the sister, who wishes
to depart early.” Jeanne got up, and the butter-milk
soup aving been made and eaten with good appetite,
r 2


162 MEMOXRS or vinocq.
I left the good persons who had so kindly wel¢
corned me.
Having walked all day without ﬂagging, I found
.myself at the close of the day in a village near the
environs of Vannes, when I remembered I had been
deceived by false or mistaken directions. I sleptat
this village, and the next day I went through Vannes
at a very early hour. My intention was to get to
Rennes; but on leaving Vannes [met a person who
induced me to change my intention. On the same
route was a woman walking slowly, followed by a
young child, and carrying on her back a box of relics,
which she showed in the villages, whilst singing doleful
ditties, selling rings of St Hubert, or holy chaplets.
This woman told me that she was going to Nantes by
cross roads. I was desirous of avoiding the high
road, and did not hesitate to follow my new guide.
Besides, at Nantes I had resources which would be
lacking to me at Rennes, as we shall see.
At the end of eight days’ walk, we reached Nantes,
when I left the woman and her relics at her lodgings
in the suburbs. As for me, I enquired for the He
Feydeau. When at the Bicétre I had learnt from a
man named Grenier, called the Nantais, that there was
in this quarter a kind of auberge, where robbers met
without fear of disturbance. I knew that by using a
well-known name Ishould be admitted without difﬁ—
culty; but I only remembered the address very vaguely,
and scarcely knew how and where to ﬁnd out the
place. I adopted an expedient which succeeded. I
went into many houses and asked for M. Grenier; at
the fourth where I sought for this name, the hostess,
leaving two persons with whom she was conversing,
took me into a small room and said to me, “Have
you seen Grenier'? Is he still sick (in prison)?”—
“ No,” answered I, “he is well (free).” And per-
ceiving that I was all right with the mother of robbers,
told her unhesitatingly who I was, and how I was


MEMOIRS or VIDOCQ. 163-
situated. Without replying, she took my arm, and
opening a door let into the pannel, made me enter a
low room where eight men and women were playing
at cards and drinking brandy, &c. “ Here,” said my
guide, presenting me to the goodly party, much asto-
nished at the appearance of a nun, “here is a sister
come to convert you all.” At the same time I tore
off my handkerchief, and three of the party, whom I
had met at the Bagne, recognized me; they were
Berry, Bidaut Mauger, and the young Goupy, whom
I had met at Quimper; the others were fugitives
from the Bagne of Rochfort. They were much
amused at my disguise; and when supper had made
us all very jolly, one of the females put on my nun’s
habits, and her gestures and attitudes, contrasted so
strangely with this costume, that we all laughed till
we cried, until the moment when we went to bed.
On waking, I found on my bed new clothes, linen,
and in fact everything necessary for my toilet. Whence
did they come? But this was of no consequence.
The little money which I had not expended at the
hospital of Quimper, where I paid dearly for every-
thing, had been used on my journey; and without
clothes, resources, or acquaintances, I was compelled
to wait until I could write to my mother; and in the
mean time accepted all that was offered me. But one
circumstance of a particular nature abridged my stay
at the Ile Feydeau. At the end of a week, my com-
panions seeing me perfectly recovered from my
fatigues, told me one evening that they intended on
the next day to break into a house on the Place
Graslin, and relied on my going with them; I was
even to have the post of honour, that of working
inside with Maguer.
But I did not intend to do this, and thought how I
could make use of the circumstance to get away and
go to Paris, where, near my family, my resources would
not fail me; but it never entered into my calculations
to enrol myself in aband of thieves; for although I


164 manoms or VIDOCQ.
had associated with robbers, and lived by my wits, I
felt an invincible repugnance to entering on a career
of crimes, of which early experience had taught me
the perils and risks. A refusal would, on the other
hand, render me suspected by my new companions, who,
in this retreat, secure from sight or hearing, could
knock me on the head with impunity, and send me to
keep company with the salmons and smelts of the
Loire; and I had only one course to take, which was
to set out as quickly as possible, and this I resolved
on doing. ,
Having exchanged my new clothes for a country--
man’s frock and eighteen francs to boot, I left Nantes,
carrying at the end of a stick a basket of provisions,
which gave me at once the appearance of an inhabitant
of the environs. It is useless to observe, that I struck
into the cross roads, where, by the bye, the gendarmes
would be better stationed than on the high road,
where persons who have any motives for avoiding
justice rarely show themselves. This observation is
applicable besides to the'system of municipal police,
whence, as I think, immense advantages could be
drawn. Conﬁned only to security, properly so called,
it would then follow from one place to another the
traces of malefactors who, now once striking out from
the radius of large towns, defy all researches. At
different periods, and always at seasons of great calap
mities, when the Chauﬁ'eurs were infesting the north;
when famine desolated the districts of Calvados and
Eure ; when the Oise saw conﬂagrations nightly blazing;
partial applications of this system were made, and the
results proved the efﬁcacy of the arrangement.


MEMOIM or VIDOCQ-_ 165
‘ CHAPTER XI.
The market-place at Chalet—Arrival at Paris—History of captain
Villedieu.
ON quitting Nantes, I walked for a day and two nights
without stopping at any village, and my provisions
were exhausted; still 1 went on hep-hazard, although
decided on reaching Paris or the sea shore, hoping to
get to sea in some ship, when I reached the ﬁrst habi-
tations of a town which appeared to have been lately
the scene of a combat. The greater part of the houses
were nothing but a heap of rubbish, blackened by ﬁre,
and all that surrounded the place had been entire]
destroyed. Nothing was standing but the church
tower, 'whence the clock was striking the hour for
inhabitants who no longer existed. This scene of
desolation presented at the same time the most whim-
sical occurrences. On the only piece of wall which
remained belonging to an auberge, were still the words
“ Good entertainment for man and horse ; ”——there the
soldiers were watering their horses in the holy-water
vessels ;—farther on, their companions were dancing to
the tune of an organ with the countrywomen, who,
mined and wretched, had prostituted themselves to
the Blues (republicans) for bread. By the traces of
this war of extermination we might have thought our-
selves in the midst of the wilds of America, or the
oases of' the desert, where barbarous tribes were
cutting each others’ throats with blind fury. Yet
there had only been there, on both sides, Frenchmen:
but every species of fanaticism made rendezvous there.
I was in La Vendée, at Cholet.
The master of a wretched cabaret, thatched with
broom, where I halted, gave me my cue, by asking me
if I had come to Cholet for the next day’s market. I
answered in the aﬂirmative, much astonished that one


166 mmoms or VIDOCQ.
should be held in the midst of these ruins, and even
that the farmers of the environs had anything to sell;
but my host told me that scarcely anything was brought
to this market but cattle from distant districts; on the
other hand, although no one had yet done anything to
repair the disasters of the war, the amnesty was nearly
terminated by general Hoche, and if republican soldiers
were still found.in the country it was that they ' ht
keep down the chouans,‘ who were becoming or-
midable.
I went to the market early the next day, and think-
ing to take advantage of it, I accosted a cattle-dealer,
whose face was familiar to me, asking him to listen to
me for a moment. He looked at me with distrust,
taking me probably for a spy, but I hastened to relieve
his suspicions, tel ing him that it was only a personal
aﬁ‘air. We then entered a hovel where they sold
brandy, and I then told him, that having deserted
from the 36th demi-brigade to see my parents, who
lived at Paris, I was desirous of getting some situ-
ation which would alldw me to reach my destina-
tion without fear of arrest. This good fellow told
me that he had no situation to offer me, but that if I
would drive a drove of oxen as far as Sceaux, I might
go with him. No proposal was ever accepted with
more readiness, and I entered on my duties instantly,
anxious to show my new master all the return I could
testify for his kindness.
In the afternoon he sent me to carry a letter to a
person in the 'town, who asked me if my master had
desired me to take anything back with me; I said no,
“Never mind,” said the person, who was, I believe,
" Chouans, a contraction of the word chat-huant, a screech-
owl; a title given to parties of Vendéeans, and afterwards
to bands formed for plunder, who ravaged the western
part of France subsequently to 1793, and were called by
this name because, like owls, they came out only at night.—
Translator. 


MEMOIRS or VIDOCQ. 167
a notary, “ take him this bag with three hundred
francs.” I delivered this sum to the cattle dealer, to
whom my punctuality gave conﬁdence. We set out
next day, and on the third morning my master calling
to me, said, “ Louis, can you write?”——“ Yes, sir.”
“ Reckon ?”—“ Yes, sir.” “ Keep an account? ”—“Yes,
sir.”--“ Ah, well; as I must go out of the road to see
some lean beasts, at St Gauburge, you will drive the
oxen on to Paris, with Jacques and Saturnin: you will
be head man.” He then gave me his instructions and
left us.
By reason of my advancement, I no longer travelled
on foot, which was a great relief to me; for the drivers
of cattle are always stiﬂed with dust, or up to their
knees in mud, which increases as they proceed. I was
besides, better paid -and better fed, but I did not abuse
these advantages, as I saw many other head drovers
do on the journey. Whilst the food of the animals
was converted by them into ullets, or legs of mutton,
or exchanged with the inn eepers, the poor brutes
grew visibly thinner.
I behaved myself most faithfully, so that on joining
us at Verneuil, my master, who had preceded us, com-
plimented me on the state of the drove. On reaching
Sceaux, my beasts were worth twenty francs a-head
more than any others, and I had spent ninety francs
less than my companions for my travelling expenses.
My master, enchanted, made me a present of forty
francs, and cited me as the Aristides of cattle drovers,
and I was in some sort quite an object of admiration
at the market of Sceaux, and, in return, my colleagues
Would willingl have knocked me on the head. One _
of them, a c 'ap of Lower Normandy, famed for
strength and skill, endeavoured to disgust me with my \
avocation, by taking upon himself to inﬂict the popular
vengeance upon me ; but what could such a. clumsy
yoke] do against the pupil of the renowned Goupy!
The Low Norman cried craven, after one of the most


168 _ MEMOIRS or vuiocq.
memorable boxing matches of which the inhabitants of
a fat cattle market ever preserved a remembrance.
My conquest was the more glorious, as I had tes-
tiﬁed much forbearance, and had only consented to
ﬁght hen it would have been impossible to avoid
it. My master, more and more satisﬁed with me,
wished absolutely to engage me for a year, as foreman,
promising me a small share of the proﬁts. I had re
ceived no news of my mother; and here I found re-
sources which I was about to seek at Paris; and,
besides, my new dress disguised me so much that I
felt no fear of detection in my frequent excursions to
Paris. Ipassed, in fact, many persons of my acquaint-
ance, who paid no attention to me. But one evening
as lwas passing along the Rue Dauphine, to get to
the Barriere d’Enfer, some one tapped me on the
shoulder. My ﬁrst thought was to run for it, without
turning round, being aware that, whoever thus stops
you, relies on your looking back to seize you; but a
stoppage of carriages choked up the passage. I there-
fore waited the result, and in a twinkling discovered
that it was a false alarm.
The person who had so much alarmed me, _was no
other than Villedieu, the captain of the 13th chasseurs,
with whom I had been intimately acquainted at Lille.
Although surprised to see me with a hat covered with
waxed cloth, a smock frock, and leathern gaiters, he
testiﬁed much pleasure at the meeting, and invited
me to supper, saying that he had some marvellous
narratives to tell me. He was not in his uniform, but
this did not astonish me, as the oﬁicers commonly
_ wore common clothes when staying in Paris. What
struck me most was his uneasy air and excessive pale-
ness. As he expressed a wish to sup out of the bar-
riers, we took a coach which conveyed us to Sceaux.
On reaching the Grand Cerf, we asked for a private
room. We were scarcely served with what we asked
for, when Villedieu, double-locking the door and


msmoms or vloocq. 169
putting the key in his pocket, said to me, with tears
in his eyes, and with a wild air, “My friend, I am a
lost man I Lost! undone! I am pursued, and you must
get me a habit similar to your own. If you want it, I
ave money, plenty of money, and we will start for
Switzerland together. Iknow your skill at escapes,
and you, and you only can extricate me.”
This commencement did not place me upon a seat
of velvet; already much embarrassed myself, I did
not much care to place myself again in the way of
being a prehended, and to unite my fortunes with
those 0 a man hotly pursued might lead to my detec-
tion. This reasoning, which Imade to myself, decided
me on being wary with Villedieu; and besides, as yet
I did not know exactly what he wished to do. At
Lille, I had seen him spending much more than his
pay; but a young and handsome ofﬁcer has so many
ways of procuring money, that no one thinks any harm
of that. I was then greatly astonished at the following
details.
“ I will not speak to you of those circumstances in
in life which preceded your acquaintance with me ; it
Will sufﬁce to sa , that as brave and intelligent as
most, and backe with good interest, I found myself,
at the age of thirty-four, a captain of chasseurs, when
I met you at Lille, at the Café de la Montague. There
I associated with an individual whose honest appear-
ance prepossessed me in his favour, and our intimacy
ripened into so close a friendship that he introduced
me to his house. It was one replete with Ycomfort
and elegance, and I received every attention and token
of amity ; so good a fellow was M. Lemaire, so
charming a woman was madame Lemaire. A jeweller,
travelling about with his articles of trade, he made
frequent absences of six or eight days; but still I vi-
sited his wife, and you may guess that I soon became
her lover. Lemaire did not perceive, or would not
perceive it. I led, to be sure, a most agreeable life,
when one morning I found Josephine in tears. Her
Q


170 rumours or ~VIDOCQ-
husband, she told me, had just been apprehelided, with
his clerk, for having sold unstamped plate, and as it
was probable that his house would be soon visited,
all its contents must be speedily removed. The most
valuable goods were then packed in my ortmanteau,
and conveyed to my lodgings. Josephine t en entreated
me to go to Courtrai, where the inﬂuence of my rank
might be of avail to her'husband. 1 did not hesitate
for a moment, for so deeply was I en_amoured of this
woman that I would have 'ven up the exercise of my
faculties if I did not thinglas she thought, and wish
what she wished.
. “ Having obtained my colonel’s permission, I sent
for horses and a post chaise, and set out with the ex-
press who had brought the news of Lemaire’s arrest.
I did not~at all like this man’s face, and what preju-
diced me against him was, to hear him thee and thou
tutoyer) Josephine, and treat her with much fami-
liarity. Scarcel had I got into the carriage, when he
installed, himsel at ease in' one corner and slept till
we reached Menin, where I stopped to take some re-
freshment. ‘ Captain, I do not wish to get out,’ said
he familiarly and rousing himself; ‘ be so good as to
bring me a glass of brandy.’ Much surprised at this
tone, I sent what he asked for by the waiting-maid,
who returned to me, saying that he would not answer
her, but was asleep. I went to the chaise, where I saw
my gentleman motionless in his corner, his face being
covered with a handkerchief, ‘ Are you asleep?’ said
I in a low tone. ‘ No,’ he replied, ‘ nor do I wish to
be, but why the devil did you send a servant when I
tell you that I do not wish- to face these gentry. I
gave him his glass of brandy and we started again.
As he did not appear disposed for sleep, I asked
him carelessly his reason for preserving so strict an
incognito, and concerning the business vshich led me
to Courtrai, of which I knew no details. He then
told me, that Lemaire was accused of belonging to a
band of Chauffeurs, and added, that he had not told


neurons or vrnoco. 171
Josephine, for fear of increasing her afﬂiction. We
drew near Courtrai, and about four hundred paces
from the town my companion called to the postillion
to stop for an instant; he then put on a wig, concealed
in the crown of his hat, stuck a large plaster on his
left eye, took from under his waistcoat a brace of
pistols, primed them, returned them to the belt under
his vest, opened the door, jumped out and disap-
peared.
“All these manoeuvres, which were perfect myste-
ries to me, only served to create great uneasiness.
Could it be that Lemaire’s arrest was only a pretext.
Was he laying a snare for me? Did he wish me to
play some-part in an intrigue of any kind? I could
not explain it to myself, nor think it was so. [was
still very uncertain what to do, and was pacing the
chamber with long strides at the Hotel du Damier,
where my mysterious companion had advised me to
alight, when the door suddenly opened and I saw—
Josephine. At her appearance all suspicions vanished.
Her abrupt entrance, her hurried journey made with-
out me, and some hours after, whilst she might easily
have had part of my chaise and my protection, ought
rather perhaps to have excited them. But I was in
love, and when Josephine told me that she could not
endure an absence, I thought her argument and ex-
planation admirable and unanswerable. It was four
o’clock in the afternoon, and Josephine dressed herself,
and, going out, did not‘return till ten o’clock. She
was accompanied by a man dressed like a peasant of
Liege, but whose manner and expression of countenance
did not agree with his costume.
“ Some refreshments were brought in, and the ser-
vants then leaving us, Josephine immediately throwing
herself on my neck, begged me to save her husband,
repeating, that it only depended on me to do this. I
promised all she asked, and then the retended pea-
sant, who had till this time been perfect y silent, spoke »
in very good language, and unfolded to me what I was


17‘2 rumours or vinoco.
required to do. Lemaire, he said, reached Courtrai,
with several travellers, whom he did not know, and
had only met on the road, when they were surrounded
by a body of gendarmes, who summoned them to sur-
render. The strangers stood on the defensive, and
pistol shots were exchanged, and Lemaire, who, with
' clerk, had remained neuter on the ﬁeld of battle,
had been seized‘without making any effort to escape,
feeling a consciousness of innocence, and that he had
nothing to fear. But very serious charges had been
produced against him; he was unable to give a very
precise account of his business in the district, because,
said the assumed countryman, he was then smuggling;
besides, they had found in a bush two pair of pistols,
which it was asserted had been thrown there by him-
self and clerk, at the moment they were apprehended,
and ﬁnally, a woman swore that she had seen him the
week before on the road to Ghent, with the identical
travellers, whom he said he had not met before the
morning of the engagement with the gendarmes.
“ ‘ Under these circumstances,’ added my peasant
interlocutor, ‘ we must ﬁnd means of proving—
“ ‘ lst. That Lemaire has only left Lille three days,
. and that he had then been there for the entire month
previously.
“ ‘ 2nd. That he never carries pistols.
“ ‘3rd. That before starting he received sixty louis
from some person.’
“ This conﬁdence ought to have opened my eyes as
to the nature of the steps required of me; but, intox-
icated with Josephine’s caresses, I drove away all
thoughts, and compelled myself not to think of what
might be the results. We all three sat out the same
night for Lille, and on arriving I ran about all day
making the necessary arrangements, and by evening all
my witnesses were ready."6 Their depositions had no
'i This may appear surprising, but astonishment will cease
when we learn by how many testimonies of such a nature


mamoras or vmoco. 173
sooner reached Courtrai, than Lemaire and his clerk
were set at liberty. We may imagine their joy ; and
it was in fact so excessive, that I could not help
thinking that the case must have been critical indeed,
if their liberation could occasion such transports. The
day after his arrival, dining with Lemaire, I found in
my napkin a rouleau of a hundred louis. I was weak
enough to accept them, and from that hour my ruin
was decreed.
Playing high, treating my comrades, and having
habits of luXury, I soon spent this sum. Lemaire daily
made me fresh offers of service, by which I proﬁtted
to borrow several sums of him, amounting to two thou~
sand francs, without being any the richer or more mo-
derate. Fifteen hundred francs borrowed of a Jew, on
a post obit for a thousand crowns, and twenty-ﬁve
louis which the quarter-master advanced me, disap-
pearedv with the same alacrity. At last Ispent even a
sum of ﬁve hundred francs which my lieutenant had
begged me to keep for him until the arrival of his
horse-dealer, to whom he owed this sum. This I lost
on one evening at the Café de la Montagne, with a
man named Carré, who had already ruined half the
regiment. .
“ The night that followed was a fearful onef; agitated J
by the shame of having abused the conﬁdence of the
lieutenant, by squandering what was his little all ; en-
raged at being duped, and tormented with the desire
of still playing on; I was twenty‘times tempted to
blow my brains out. When the trumpets sounded the
turn-out, I had not closed my eyes; it was my week,
and I went out to go' through the examination of the
stables; the ﬁrst person I met was the lieutenant, who
told me that the horse-dealer had arrived, and he
the course of justice is perverted. We have recently seen, at
the court of assize at Cahors, half the inhabitants of a corpo-
ration state a plain fact in direct opposition to the assertion of
the other half.
Q 2


174 memoms or vmoco.
would send his servant for the ﬁve hundred francs.
My agitation was so great that I answered I scarcely
knew what, and the obscurity of the stable alone pre-
vented him from observing my confusion. There was
not a moment to lose, if I would not forfeit my good
name with my superiors and brother oﬂicers.
“ In this horrid situation I did not even think of ap-
plying to Lemaire, so much I already imagined that
had abused his friendship; but I had no other re-
source, and, at length, I resolved on writing him a
note, stating the embarrassment in which I was placed.
He came to me instantly, and laying on the table two
gold snuff boxes, three watches and twelve engraved
spoons, he told me that he had no ready money at
the moment, but that I could easily procure it by
taking these valuables to the pawnbrokers, and he
left them at my disposal. After overwhelming him
with thanks, I sent the whole to be pledged by my
servant, who brought me twelve hundred francs for
them. I ﬁrst paid the lieutenant, and then led by my
unlucky star, I ﬂew to the Café de la Montague, when
Carré, after much persuasion, was induced to give me
my revenge, and the remaining seven hundred francs
passed from my purse to his. ,
“ Aghast at this last stroke of fortune, I wandered
for some time about the streets of Lille, whilst a thou-
sand mad ideas ﬂashed through my brain. It was in
this mood that I imperceptibly drew near to Lemaire’s
house, which I entered mechanically; they‘ were sitting
down to dinner, and Josephine, struck by my extreme
paleness, questioned me with interest concerning my
aﬁairs and my health; I was in one of those dejected
moods whence the consciousness of his weakness makes
the most reserved more communicative. I confessed all
my extravagancies, adding that within two months I
must pay more than four thousand francs, of which I
had not a single sous.
“ At these words Lemaire looked ﬁxedly at me, with
a gaze I can never forget all my life, be it long or short


annulus or vinoco. 175
‘Captaiu,’ said he, ‘I will not forsake you in our
difﬁculties, but one conﬁdence deserves anot er;
nothing should be kept from a man who has saved you
ﬁ-om—’ and with a horrid smile he sed his hand
across his throat. I trembled, and ooked at Jose-
phine. She was, perfectly calml It was a horrible
moment! Without seeming to notice my perturbation,
Lemaire continued his fearful conﬁdence. I learnt
that he was one of Sallambier’s band, and that, when
the gendarmes had ap rehended him near Courtrai,
they were returning rom a party of plunder in a
country-house in the vicinity of Ghent. The servants
had defended themselves, and three had been killed,
and two wretched women were hung up in a cellar.
The valuables I had awned were the produce of the
robbery which had ollowed these atrocities! After
having explained to me how he had been apprehended
near Courtrai, whilst making 05, Lemaire added that
henceforward it was only for me to repair my losses
and better my fortune by accompanying him in two or
three expeditions.
“I was annihilated! Up to this period the conduct
of Lemaire, the circumstances of his arrest, the nature
of the service which I had rendered him, appeared to
me very suspicious; but I carefully drove from my
thoughts all that could convert my sus icions into rea-
lity. As if tormented by a frightful uig tmare, I waited
till I should awake, and my waking was more hor-
rible still !
“ ‘ Well,’ said Josephine, with an inquiring tone,
‘you do not answer—Ah! I see, we have lost your
friendship; and I shall die!’ She burst into tears:
my head was in awhirl: forgetful of Lemaire’s pre-
seuCe, I threw myself on my knees like a madman,
crying out, ‘I quit you? no, never, never!’ Tears
choked my utterance, and I saw a tear in Josephine’s
eyes, but she instantly resumed her ﬁrmness. For Le-
maire, he oﬂ'ered us orange-ﬂower water with as much


1'76 MEMOIRS or vinocq.
calmness as a cavalier presents an ice to his partner at
a ball.
“ I was thus enlisted in this band, the terror of the
departments of the North, la Lys and l’Escaut. In less
than ﬁﬂeen days I was introduced to Sallambier, in
whom I recognized the (peasant of Liege; to Duhamel,
Chopiné, Calandrin, an the principal Chauffeurs. The
ﬁrst business in which I took a share was in the envi-
rons of Douai. Duhamel’s mistress, who accompanied
us, introduced us to the house, in which she had been
waiting-maid. The dogs having been poisoned bya
wood-cutter emplo ed on the premises, we only waited
until the family should be asleep, to commence our
operations. No locks could resist Calandrin, and we
reached the drawing room with the utmost silence.
The family, consisting of the father, mother, great
aunt, two young persons, and a relation on a visit,
were playing at Bouillotte. We only heard the words,
‘Pass, I hold; I play Charlemagne,’ &c.,- when Sal-
-lambier, opening the door quickly, appeared, followed
by ten men with blackened faces, and pistols and dag-
' 'gers' in their hands. At this sight the cards fell from
the hands of all; the females shrieked for mercy, un-
til, with a motion of his hand, Sallambier compelled
silence, whilst one of our band, jumping like a monkey
on the mantlepiece, cut the ropes of the bells. The
women fainted, but were not heeded. (The master of
“the house alone retained some presence of mind.
After having opened his mouth at least twenty times
vwithout uttering a word, he at length contrived to ask
what we wanted? ‘Money,’ said Sallambier, whose
voice seemed to me entirely changed; and taking the
candle from the card-table, he made signs to the
vmaster of the house to follow him into the next room,
where we knew that the money and jewels were de-
posited. It was precisely Don Juan preceding the
statue of the Commandant.
“ We remained in the dark, motionless at'our posts,


Msmoms or VIDOCQ- 177
only hearing the stiﬂed sobs of the females, the chink
of money, and these words, ‘More, more,’ which
Sallambier repeated from time to time in a sepnlchral
tone. At the end of twenty minutes he returned with
a red handkerchief, tied together by the corners and
ﬁlled with pieces of money; the jewels were in his
pockets. To neglect nothing, they took from the old
aunt and the mother their earrings, as well as the
watch of the relation who had so well chosen the
time to make his visit. We set out at last, after
having carefully locked up the whole party, without
the servants, who had been for some time in bed,
being at all disturbed or aware of the attack in the
chateau.
“ I had a share also in several other enterprizes,
more hazardous than that I now mention. We were
resisted, or else the proprietors had concealed their
money, and to make them produce it they were put
to most dreadﬁil tortures. At ﬁrst they conﬁned
themselves to burning the soles of their feet with red-
hot shovels; but adopting more expeditious mea-
sures, they began to tear out the nails of those who
were obstinate, or blow them as large as balloons with
bellows. Some of these unfortunates, having really
no money, as was supposed, died in the midst of these
tortures. See, my friend, on what a career I had
entered; I, an oﬂicer well born, for whom twelve years
of active service, some exploits of bravery, and the
testimony of my. comrades, had created an universal
esteem, which he had ceased to deserve for a very Long
time, and which he was about to lose for ever.”
Here Villedieu paused and dropped his head upon
his breast, like one overwhelmed by his recollections.
[left him undisturbed for a moment, but the names
he mentioned .were too well known to me not to
excite the most lively curiosity in my mind to hear
the whole of his recital. A few glasses of champagne
restored his energy, and he thus continued :—
“ But crimes multiplied so alarmingly, that the gen-


178 Mrzmoms or vrnocq.
darmes not being sufﬁciently powerful to check them,
columns of the military were taken from the various
garrisous. One was placed under my command. You
may suppose that this measure had an entirely con-
trary effect to that intended; for warned by me, the
Chauffeurs avoided the places that I was to watch with
my division. Thus matters went on worse than ever,
and the authorities were at a loss what plans to adopt,
when they learnt that the majority of the Chauffeurs
resided at Lille, and the order was given for redoubling
the superintendence (surveillance) at the gates. We
- found means however to render all these precautions
useless. Sallambier procured at a broker’s of the
town, who clothed a regimeht, fifteen uniforms of the
13th chasseurs, and disguised with them that number
of' Chauffeurs, who, with me at their head, went out
at twilight, as'if' going on a detachment of a secret
enterprize.
“ Although this stratagem completely answered, I
thought I perceived myself to be the object of par-
ticular surveillance. A report spread about that there
were men in the vicinity of Lille disguised as horse
chasseurs. The colonel appeared to mistrust me, and
one of my brother ofﬁcers was appointed alternately
to direct the moving columns before entrusted to my
charge alone. Instead of giving me the watch~word, as
to the other ofﬁcers of gendarmes, I was not informed
of it until themoment of' departure. At length I was
so directly accused, that I was under the necessity of
enquiring of the colonel,'who, without any disguise,
told me that I was reported to have communication
with the Chauffeurs. Idefended myself as well as I
could, and thus matters remained, only that I left the
service of the moving columns, which began to be so
active that the Chauffeurs scarcely durst show them-
selves. ’
“ Sallambier, unwilling to remain long in inaction,
redoubled his audacity in proportion as obstacles mul-
tiplied about us. In one night he committed three


mamoms or vrpoco.. 179
robberies in the same d'xstrict. But the proprietors of
the ﬁrst of the houses a ttacked having divested them-
selves of their gags and bonds, gave the alarm. The
tocsin was sounded for two leagues round, and the
Chauffeurs only owed their safety to the ﬂeetness of
their horses. The two brothers Sallambier were
hotly followed, and it was only on approaching
Bruges that they distanced their pursuers. In a large
village where they were, they hired a chaise and two
horses, to go, as they said, some leagues and return in
the evening. ’
“ A coachman drove them, whom, on getting to the
water’s edge, the elder Sallambier struck from behind
with his knife, and knocked him from his~ seat. The
two brothers then threw him into the sea, hoping that
the waves would retain the corpse. Masters of the
conveyance, they went on their journey, when, towards
the close of day, they met a countryman who bade
them good evening. As they did not answer, the man
approached, saying, ‘ Ah! Vandeck, do you not know
me ? It is I—Joseph.’ Sallambier then told him that
he had hired the carriage for three days without a
conductor. The tone of this answer, the condition of
the horses, covered with sweat, and which their master
would never have let without a driver, all made the
interrogator suspicious. \Vithout prolonging the
conversation, he ran to the adjacent village and gave
the alarm; seven or eight men on horseback pursued
the carriage, which they soon perceived travelling
slowly along. They increased their speed and over-
took it. It was empty. Rather disappointed, they
drove it into an auberge where they intended to pass
the night; but scarcely were they seated, when a great
noise was heard, occasioned by a crowd conveying
before the magistrate two travellers accused of the
murder of a man whom some ﬁshermen had found
with his throat cut on the sea shore. All ran out,
and Joseph recognized the individuals whom he had
seen in the carriage, and which they quitted because


180 MRMOIRS or vmoco.
the horses could go no farther. They (the two Sal-
lambiers) ap eared greatly disconcerted when con-
fronted with oseph. Thelr identity was soon settled.
Under a suspicion that they might belong to some band
of Chauffeurs, they were transferred to Lille, where
they were recognized on reaching the Petit Hotel.
“ There the elder Sallambier, pressed by the agents
of police, denounced all his companions, and inted
out when and where they might be taken. n con-
sequence of this information forty-three persons of
both sexes were apprehended. Amongst them Were
Lemaire and his Wife. At the same time an order
of arrest was issued against me; but informed by a
quarter-master of gendsrmes, whom I had served, 1
escaped and reached Paris, where I have been these
ten days. When I met you I was looking for the
house of an old sweetheart, where I intended to
conceal myself, or obtain some means of escape to a
foreign country, but I am now easy, since I meet with
Vidocq.”


MEMOIRSVOF vrnoco. 181
I CHAPTER xn. '
Journey to Arms—Father Lambert—Vidncq a schoolmaster—
De arture for Holland—The “ sellers of soula"-—The mutiny
— ecoreair—(Jatastrcphe.
THE conﬁdence of Villedieu ﬂattered me ver much;
but yet I thought my rencontre with him might lead
me into danger. I therefore told him a false tale
when he enquired about my mode of life and domicile.
For the same reason I took care not to be at the
rendezvous which he had appointed for the next day;
for it would have been attended With much risk to
myself and no advantage to him. _On leaving him, at
eleven o’clock in the evening, I took the pre-
caution of making many detours before I entered my
auberge, for fear of being dogged by any police agents.
My master, who had gone to bed, aroused me early in
the morning to tell me to set out with him for Negent
le Rotrou, whence we were to proceed to his own
farms, situated in the environs of this city.
In four da 's we arrived at the termination of our
journey, an although received in the family as a
hardworking and faithful servant, I still persisted in
the intention I had formed for some time, of returning
to my own country, whence I received neither infor-
mation nor money. On returning to Paris with some
cattle, I told my master of my determination, and he
let me go with much reluctance. On quitting him, I
entered a café in the Place du Chatelet, to‘procure a
porter to fetch'my luggage, and there taking up a
newspaper, the ﬁrst intelligence that met my eyes was
an account of Villedieu’s capture. He had not allowed
himself to be taken before he had prostrated two of
the agents of police, who had orders to apprehend
him, and was himself severely wounded. On being
executed, two months afterwards at Bruges, the last
VOL. I. R


182 msmoms or vrnoco.
of eighteen, all his accomplices, he contemplated their
headless and bleedin bodies as they fell one by one
by his side, with a cafmness and fortitude that never
wavered for an instant.
This circumstance gave me reason to be satisﬁed
with the step that I had taken. Had I staid with the
cattle-dealer, I was under the necessity of coming'
twice a week to Paris; and the olice, directing its
attention against all plots and oreign agents, was
assuming an extent and energy which might have
brought detection on me, as they minutely watched
individuals, who, perpetually called by business from
the departments of the west, might serve as agents
between the Chouans and their friends in the capital.
I therefore set out without delay, and on the third
day reached Arras, which I entered in the evening, at
the time 'when the workmen were returning home
from labour. I did not go directly to my father’s
house, but to one of my aunts, who informed my
parents. They thought me dead, not having received
any of my last letters; and I have never been able to
discover how and by whom they were intercepted.
Having related all my adventures at length, I asked
news of my family, which necessarily led to my en-
uiring for my wife. I was told that my father had
or some time received her at his house, but that her
conduct was so scandalous, that she had been dis-
gracefully expelled thence. She was, I was informed,
pregnant'by an attorney, who supplied most of her
wants; but that for some time nothing had been heard
of her, and they had ceased to trouble themselves
concerning her.
. I gave myself no care about her, for I had matters
of much greater import which demanded my attention.
I might be discovered at any moment; and if ap re-
hended at my parents' house they would be invo ved
in difﬁculties. It was imperative on me to ﬁnd' an
~asylum where the vigilance of the police was not'so
active as at Arras, and I threw my eyes upon a village


MEMOIRS or VIDOCQ. 183
in the vicinity, Ambercourt, where there resided a
quondam carmelite friar, a friend of my father, who
agreed to receive me. At th'm period (1798) priests
were compelled still to say mass in secret, although
direct hostilities towards them had ceased. Father
Lambert, my host, celebrated his divine functions in
- arbarn; and as he had no assistance but from an old
man, feeble and impotent, I offered to fulﬁl the duties
of sacristan, which I did so satisfactorily, that one
would have supposed it had been my calling all the
days of my existence. I also became father Lam-
bert’s assistant in giving lessons to the children of the
neighbourhood. My skill in teaching made some
noise in the district, for I had taken an_excellent
method to advance my pu ils ra idly; I traced the
letters with a lead pencil, wlliich they wrote over with
the pen, and the Indian rubber effected the rest. The
parents were delighted; only it was rather diﬁicult for
my scholars to perform without their master; but the
Artesian peasants, however cunning in the common
transactions of business, were good enough not to ﬁnd
this out.
This sort of life was rather agreeable to me. Clothed
as a. wandering friar, and tolerated by the authorities,
I had no fear of detection or suspicion; on the other
hand, my animal tastes, which I have always held in
consideration due, were well supplied, the parents
sending us perpetually, beer, poultry, and fruit. I had
in my classes some pretty peasant girls, who were very
teachable. All went on well for some time, but at
length a distrust of me was evinced; lwas Watched,
and it was discovered that I pushed my instructions
occasionally rather too far, and complaint was made
to father Lambert, who told me of the charges against
me, which I stoutly denied. The complainants were
silenced, but redoubled their vigilance; and one night,
when, impelled by classic zeal, I was about to give a
lesson in a hay-loft to a female scholar about sixteen
years of age, I was seized by four brewers’ men, drag-


184 MEMOIRS or VIDOCQ-
ged into a hop-ground, stripped of my clothes, and
scourged, till the blood ﬂowed copiously, with rods of
nettles and thistles. The pain was so acute, that I
lost my senses, and on reviving, found myself in the
streets, naked, and covered with blisters and blood.
What was to be done? To return to father Lam-
bert would be to incur fresh dangers. The night was
not much advanced, and although eaten up with excess
of fever, I determined to go on to Mareuil, to an
uncle’s house, and arrived there at two o’clock in the
morning, worn out with fatigue, and only covered with
a ragged mat which I had found near a pond. After
having laughed unsparingly at my mishap, they rubbed
my body all over with cream mixed with oil; and at
the end of eight days I set out quite well for Arras,
but it was impossible for me to remain there. The
police might get information at some unlucky moment
that I was there, and Itherefore decided on starting
for Holland, and ﬁxing myself there, taking with me
a supply of money which enabled me to remain at
'my ease until something should occur that would
employ me usefully. ‘
passed through Brussels (where I learnt that the
baroness d'I had settled in London), Anvers, and
Breda, and then embarked for Rotterdam, in which
city I put up at an inn that had been specially recom-
mended to me. Ithere met with a Frenchman, who
was remarkably attentive and civil to me, and fre-
quently invited me to dinner. I received all his
advances with mistrust, knowing that all means were
resorted to by the Dutch government to recruit their
navy. In spite of all _ my caution, my companion
contrived to intoxicate me with a partlcular liquor,
and on the next morning Iawoke on board a Dutch
brig of war. All doubt was at an end; intemperance
had given me up as a prey to the “ sellers of souls.”
Lying near the shrouds, ] was reﬂecting on my
singular destiny, which multiplied so many incidents
of my wayward career, when one of the crew, pushing,


MEMOIRS or whom. 185
me with his foot, desired me to rise and get on'my
sailor’s clothes. I pretended not to understand him,
and then the boatswain gave me the same orders in
French. On my replying that I was not a sailor,
since I had signed no agreement, he seized a rope’s
end to strike me with; on which, I grasped a knife
belonging to a sailor, who was breakfasting at the foot
of the main-mast, and, placing my back against a gun,
I swore I would rip up the ﬁrst man who should
assault me. This occasioned much disturbance in the
ship, and brought up the captain, who was a man
about forty, of good appearance, and whose manners
were free from that coarseness so usual with seafaring
people. He listened to me with kindness, which was
all e could do, for it was not in his power to change
the maritime organization of his government.
In England, where the duty on board a man-of-war
is more severe, less proﬁtable, and, above all, less free
than in the merchants’ ships, the royal navy was man-
ned, and is still manned by the press. In war time
the press is carried into effect at sea, on board the
merchants’ ships, with whom they exchange useless
or invalid sailors for vigorous and able-bodied men.
On shore it is carried on in the midst of large cities,
but it is customary only to press those individuals
whose appearance and costume bespeak that they have
not been unaccustomed to the sea. In Holland, on
the contrary, at the period I now allude to, they acted
in pretty nearly the same manner as at Turkey, where
in time of need, they seize on and send to the ships of
the line, masons, grooms, actors, barbers, &c. &c.;
persons, as we may suppose, of the most useful kind.
Thus, if on leaving port, a ship be compelled to engage
with another, she fails in every manoeuvre; and this
circumstance may perhaps account for the number of
Turkish frigates that have been captured or destroyed
by the Greek pirates.
We had then on board men whose inclinations and
habits of life were so totally foreign from naval service,
a 2


186 MEMOle or \‘rnoco.
that the very idea of compelling them to enter it was
essentially ridiculous. Of the two hundred individuals
pressed, like myself, there were not perhaps twenty
who had ever set foot on shipboard before. The ma-
jorit had been carried off by main force, or trepanned
by runkenness: they had inveigled others by a pro-
mise of a free passage to Batavia, where they wished
to settle; amongst these were two Frenchmen, one a
book-keeper from Burgundy, and the other a gardener
of Lemosin, who, it is evident, were admirably calcur
lated to make sailors. To console us, the crew told
us that, for fear of desertion, we should not go ashore
for six months, which is likewise a plan practised in
the English ﬂeets, where the sailor maybe whole years
without seeing any other land than t e main-top-gal-
lants of his ship: trustworthy men are made the boats’
crews, and foreigners are sometimes employed amongst
the crew. To soften the severity of this usage, they
allow some of those women who swarm in all the sea-
ports, and’ whom they call,'l know not why, queen
Caroline’s daughters (les ﬁlles de la reine Caroline)
to come on board. The English sailors, from whom I
have since learnt these details, which we are not to
consider as precisely true in every particular, add, that
to disguise in some measure the immorality, some
puritanical captains occasionally require that these
ady visitors should assume the names of sister or
cousinﬁ" .
To me, who had so long intended to enter the
navy, the situation was not so repugnant, if I had
not been constrained to it, and if I had not had in
perspective the slavery which threatened me; added
to which, was the ill treatment of the boatswain, who
could‘not forgive my ﬁrst essay with him. On the
least false manoeuvre or mistake, the rope’s end de-
scended on my back in a style so argumentative and
' Certainly M. Vidocq's statement, as he himself says,
must be taken ‘ cum grano sslis !'—Tramlator.


unmoms or _vmoco-. 187
Convincing, that I even regretted the cudgel of the
galley-serjeant at the Bagne. I was in despair, and
twenty times resolved to let fall from the maintop a
wooden pulley on the head of my tormentor, or else
to ﬂing him into the sea when Iwas on the watch. I
should certainly have done one or the other of these,
if the lieutenant, who had taken a liking to me because
I taught him to fence, had not in some measure alle-
viated my sufferings. Besides, we were forthwith going
to Helvoetsluys, where the Heindrack lay, of whose
crew we were to form a part, and in the passage an
escape might be eﬂ'ected.
The day of transhipment came, and we embarked,
to the number of two hundred and seventy, in a small
sloop, manned by twenty-ﬁve sailors, and with twenty-
ﬁve soldiers to guard us, The weakness of this de-
tachment determined me to attempt to disarm the sol-
diers and compel the sailors to conduct us to Anvers.
One hundred and twenty of the recruits, French and
Belgians, entered into the plot, and we resolved on
surprising the men on guard at the moment their com-
rades were at dinner, whom we could then easily se-
cure. This enterprise was executed with the more
success, as they suspected nothing. The commandant
of the detachment was seized at the moment he was
taking his tea, but was not at all mal-treated. A young
man of Toumai, engaged as supercargo, and reduced
to work as a sailor, explained to him so eloquently the
motives that led to our revolt, as he called it, that he
allowed himself to be conducted into the hold, with
his soldiers, unresistin ly. As for the sailors, they
were neutral; a man of Dunkirk only, who was in our
plot, took the helm.
Night came on, and I wished to lie to, lest we
should encounter any guard-ship, to which the sailors
would make signals; but the Dunkirker obstinately
refused, and we kept on our course, and at day-break
we were under the cannon of a fort ‘near Helvoetsluys.
The Dunkirker then‘announced his intention of land~


188 nemoms or vmoeo.
ing, to see if we could get on shore safely, and I saw
then that we were sold; but it was impossible to re-
cede: signals had doubtlessly been made, and, on the
least movement, the guns of the fort could blow us
out of water. It was compulsory then that we should
await the event. Soon a boat, with tWenty men on
board, left the shore and approached the sloop: three
ofﬁcers who were in it came on deck, without testifying
any fear, although it was the scene of a busy struggle
between our comrades and the Dutch sentry, who
wanted to free the soldiers from the hold. The ﬁrst
word of the eldest officer was to ask for the ringleader,
and all remaining mute, [spoke in French :—“ Indeed
that there had been no plot, but that it was by a simul-
taneous movement that we had resolved on throwing
off the slavery imposed on us; we had ill-treated no
one, as the captain and sailors could testify, who knew
it was our intention to have left them in possession of
the vessel, after we had landed at Anvers.” I know
not what effect my harangue produced, for I was not
allowed to ﬁnish it; only, whilst we were piled up
in the hold, in the place of the soldiers whom we
had conﬁned there on the previous evening, I heard
some one say to the pilot, “ that more than one
would swing at the yard-arm next morning.” The
shop was then turned towards Helvoetsluys, and
we reached that place the same day, at about four
o’clock in the afternoon. In' the roadstead was an-
chored the Heindrack. The commandant of the fort
went in his cutter, and in an hour afterwards I was
conducted thither also. I found there assembled a
sort of maritime council, who questioned me as to the
articulars of the mutiny, and the part I had taken in
it. I asserted, as I had already done to the fort go-
vernor, that having signed no articles of engagement,
I thought myself justiﬁed in effecting my escape by
any means that presented. -
was then ordered to retire, to make way for the
young man of Tournai, who had seized the captain.


MEMorns or vrpocq. 189
We were looked on as the leaders in the enterprize,
and we know that in such cases it is the ringleaders
who undergo the punishment, and we were to suffer
nothing more or less than hanging; fortunately, the
young man, who had had time for consideration, cor-
roborated my statement, and asserted ﬁrmly that no
one had suggested it, but that the idea had come across
us all at the same moment; besides, we were quite
sure of not being betrayed by our comrades, who
showed much concern for us, and swore that if we
were condemned, the ship on board which they 1
should be placed, should jump like a rocket; that is,
that they would ﬁre the powder magazine, although
they should be blown up with it; and these were
lads who would have dared to do what they ventured
to talk about. Whether they feared the results of
these menaces, and the bad example that it would
afford to the sailors of the ﬂeet, who had been re-
cruited in a similar way; or whether the council held
that we were entrenched behind a rampart of .legiti-t
mate defence, in seeking to withdraw ourselves from a
compulsory service; they promised to ask for our par-
don from the admiral, on condition that we kept our
comrades in due subordination, which appeared not to
be their favorite virtue. We promised all that they
desired, for nothing makes one so eas to be per-
suatlied or to promise, as the feeling a cor about one’s
nec .
These preliminaries agreed upon, our comrades were
transferred on board the ship, and went between decks
with the crew, whose complement they were to make
up: all was done with the greatest order, neither was
any complaint heard, nor was there the smallest dis-
orderly symptom to be repressed. It is right to say,
that we were not ill-treated, as we had been on board
the brig, where our old friend the boatswain did all
with the rope’s end in his hand. Besides, by giving
the marines instruction in fencing, I was treated with
some attention, and was even made bombardier, with a


190 namoms or v1n0CQ.
pay of twenty-eight ﬂorins per month. Two months
passed away thus, whilst the vigilance of the English
cruisers would not allow of our quitting anchorage.
I became reconciled to my new employment, and had
no thoughts of leaving it, when news was brought
that the French authorities were searching for all
Frenchmen who were forming part of the Dutch
crews. It was a good opportunity for those amongst
us who disliked the service, and yet none cared to
avail themselves of it, for they only wanted to em-
body us into French ships of the line, a change which
presented no advantage; and besides, the greater part
of my companions had, I believe, good reasons, as well
as myself, not to be anxious to display themselves be-
fore the agents of the metropolis. All then were
silent, and when they demanded from the captain the
list of his crew, the examination of it had no other
result, for the simple reason that we had all assumed
false names. We thought we had weathered the
storm. _ .
Researches, however, were continued; only, instead
of making inquiries, they stationed agents at the ports
and taverns, who examined those men who landed by
permission or otherwise. In one of my excursions, I
was apprehended. I have long preserved my gratitude
for it towards the ship’s cook, who honored me with
his personal animosity ever after that, 1 had found
fault with his giving us swipes for beer, and stinking
cod for fresh ﬁsh. Taken before the commanding
ofﬁcer, I said I was a Dutchman, and my knowledge
of the language sufﬁced for me to keep up my asser-
tion ;' and besides, I demanded to be taken back to my
ship with a guard, that I might procure papers to sub-
stantiate my assertion, than which nothing could be
more natural. A subaltern was ordered to accom-
pany me, and we set out in the skiff that had conveyed
me ashore. On getting near the ship, I made my friend
with whom I had been talking very familiarly, get up
alongside ﬁrst; and when I saw him entangled amongst


uruoms or vrooco. 191
the rigging, I thrust oﬂ‘ suddenly from the ship’s side,
callin to the boat’s crew to pull their hardest, and
that t ey should have something to drink. We were
cutting through the water whilst my subaltern friend
was jostled about amongst the crew, who did not or
pretended not to know him. On getting ashore, I ran
to conceal myself in a house which I knew, determined
on quitting the vessel, in which it would be difﬁcult
for me to appear without being apprehended. My
ﬂight would conﬁrm all suspicions raised against me,
and therefore the captain gave me his authority,
tacitly, to do what I might think best for my own
security.
A Dunkirk privateer, the Barras, captain Fomentin,
was in the roads. At this period, vessels of this kind
were seldom overhéuled, as they had in a measure a
sort of asylum; and as it suited me to get on board it,
I got a lieutenant, to whom I applied, to introduce me
to Fomentin, who, on my own statement, admitted me
on board as master-at-arms. Four days afterwards,
the Barras set sail for a cruise in the Souhd. It was
at the beginning of the winter of 1799, when the tem-
pestuous weather destroyed so many vessels on the
coast of the Baltic. Scarcer were we at sea, when a
northerly wind rose, quite contrary to our destination.
We were compelled to put about, and the roll of the
ship was so great, that was excessively ill; so much
so, that for three days I could take nothing but weak
brandy and water, and half the crew were in the same
state, so that a ﬁshing-boat might have taken us with-
out our striking a blow. At length the wind abated,
and turned suddenly to the south-west; and the Bar-
ras, an admirable sailer, going ten knots an hour, all
hands aboard soon recovered. At this moment, the
man at the mast-head cried out, “ A sail on the lar-
board tack l” The captain took his glass, and declared
it to be an English coaster, under a neutral ﬂag, and
which the squalls had separated from the .convoy.


192 MEMOIRS or vlnoco-.
We bore down on her, with the wind on Our bow,
after hoisting French colours. At the second dis-
charge of our guns she 'struck, before we could
board her; and, putting the crew down into the hold,
we made for Bergen in Norway, where our cargo of
mahogany was soon disposed o . .
I remained six months on board the Barras, and my
share of the prizes was ‘pretty considerable, when we
went to lay up for a time at Ostend. \Ve have already
seen that this city was always unpropitious to me; and
what now ha pened to me almost made me a convert
to fatalism. e had scarcely got into the basin, when
a commissary, gendarmes, and police agents, came on
board to examine the papers of the crew; and I after-
wards learnt that the object of this unusual visitation
was, that a murder having been committed, it was
con'ectured that the assassin might have taken refuge
Wit us.
When my turn came for examination,.l asserted
that 1 was Auguste Duval, born at l’Orient; and
added, that m papers were at Rotterdam, in the
ofﬁce of the gutch marine department. No notice
was taken, and I thought I had well got rid of the
aﬂiair. When the three hundred men who were on
board had been questioned, eight of us were called,
and told that we must go to the register-ofﬁce, to give
the requisite explanation. Not liking this, I turned
off at the ﬁrst angle of the street, and had already
gained thirty yards on the gendarmes, when an old
woman, who was washing the steps of a house, put her
broom between my legs and I ell. The gendarmes
came up to me and put on handcuﬁ's, besides be-
labouring me prett well with the butts of carbines
and the ﬂat sides 0 swords, and I was conducted thus
to the commissary, who, after hearin me, asked me if
I had not escaped from the hospit of Quimper. I
saw that I was caught, for there was e ual danger as
Duval or Vidocq. However, I decide on the ﬁrst


.lmsiuoias or vmocq. 193
name, which offered less unfavourable chances of the
two ; since the road from Ostend to l’Orient is longer
than from Ostend to Arras, and thus afforded more
opportunities and time for escape.

CHAPTER XIII.
1 see Francine again—My re establishment in the prison of
Douai—Am II or am lnot, Duval'l—The magistrates embar-
rassed-J confess that I am Vidocq—Another residence at
Bicetre—I ﬁnd captain Labbra there—Departure for Toulon~
Jossas, the famous robber—His interview with a great lad ‘—
A tempest on the Rhone-The marquis of St Armsnd— he
executioner of the Bagne—The plunderers of the wardrobe—
A family of Chauﬂ‘eurs.
Enm'r days elapsed, during which I only once saw the
commissary, and was then sent with a party of pri-
soners, deserters, &c. who were to be conveyed to
Lille. It was to be expectedthat the uncertainty of
m identity would terminate in reaching a city where
I had so often dwelt; and therefore, informed that we
should pass through that place, I took such precautions
that the gendarmes who had already conducted me
did not recognize me; my features, concealed under a
thick mask of dust and sweat, were, besides, completely
altered by the swelling of my cheeks, almost as large
as those of the angels which on the frescoes of churches
are seen blowing the trumpet of the last judgment. It
was in this state that I entered the Egalité, a military
prison, where I was to stay for some days, there to
charm away the weariness of my seclusion. I risked
several visits to the canteen, in the hope that mingling
with the visitors I might ﬁnd an opportunity of escape.
Meeting with a sailor whom I had nown on board the
Barras, I thought I might make him instrumental to
my project. ~vl asked him to breakfast with me, and,
s


194 unmoms or vrnoco.
our meal ﬁnished, I returned to my chamber, where I
remained for three hours, reﬂecting on the means of
recovering my liberty, when the sailor came to ask me
to share the dinner which his wife had just brought
him. The sailor, then, had a wife,—and the thought
crossed me, that to elude the vigilance of the jailors,
she mi ht procure me female attire or some disguise.
Full 0 this idea, Iwent down to the canteen and drew
near the table, when I heard a piercing cry, and a
woman fainted. It was my comrade’s wife. I ran to
raise her—Good heavens, ’twas Francine! Alarmed
at my own imprudence, which had allowed an expres-
sion of astonishment to escape from me, I tried to
repress the emotion which I had unavoidably testiﬁed.
Surprised and astonished, the spectators crowded
round us, and overwhelmed me With enquiries; and,
after some moments’ silence, I told them that it was
my sister, whom I had so unexpectedly met.
This incident passed without any consequences, and
next day at early dawn we set off: and I was in con-
sternation at ﬁnding that the convoy, instead of follow-
ing as usual the road to Sens, took that of Douai.
Why change the direction of our journey ? I attributed
this to some indiscretion of Francine; but I soon
learnt that it resulted simply from the necessity of
leaving at Arras some of the refractory prisoners from
Cambrai.
Francine, whom I had so unjustly suspected, was
awaiting me at our ﬁrst halt. In spite of the gendarmes
she would speak to and embrace me. She wept bit~
terly, and joined my tears with hers. With what
bitterness did she reproach herself for the inﬁdelity
which was the cause of all my misfortunes! Her re-
pentance was sincere, and I sincerely forgave her:
_and when, on the order of the brigadier, we were com-
pelled to separate, she slipped into my hands two hun-
dred francs in gold as the only recompense in her
power.
At length we reached Douai, and at the gate of the


rumours or vrnoco. HM
phrhrison of the department a gendarme rang the hell.
0 answered the summons ? Dutilleul, the turnkey,
who, alter one of my attempts to escape, had dressed
my hurts for a month afterwards. He did not appear
to know me. At the ofﬁce I found another person
whom I knew, the guard Hurtrel, in such a state of
inebriety that I ﬂattered myself his memory had en-
tirely leﬁ; him. For three days nothing was said to
me ; but on the fourth I was led before the examining
magistrate, in the resence of Hurtrel and' Dutilleul,
and was asked if were not Vidocq? I replied that
I was Auguste Duval, which might be conﬁrmed by
sending to I’Orient; and besides, the motive of my
apprehension at Ostend proved it, as I was only
c arged with having deserted from a ship of war. My
straight-forward tale seemed to weigh with the judge,
who hesitated; but Hurtrel and Dutilleul persisted in
asserting that they were not mistaken. Rausson, the
public accuser, came to see me, and also said he knew
me; but as I wasth disconcerted, he remained in
doubt, and to clear up the affair they devised a stra-'
tagem.
One morning I was told that a person wanted me at
the ofﬁce, and on going thither I found my mother,
whom they had sent for from Arras; with what inten-
tion may be easily divined. The oor woman has-
tened to embrace me, but I saw t rough the snare,:
and putting her from me quietly, I said to the magis-
trate who was present, that it was an unmanly thing
to give the unfortunate woman any' hopesof seeing
her son, when they were, at least, uncertain of their
ability to produce him. My mother, who was put
on her guard by a signal which 'I managed to commu-
nicate to her, pretending to examine met attentively,
at length declared that a wonderful likeness had de~
ceived her, and then retired, uttering many'-bitter
reproaches against those who had taken her from home
only to afford her but a fallacious joy.
The magistrate and turnkeys were then reduced to


196 msuoms or vrnocq.
their original state of dubiet , when 'a letter which
arrived from l’Orient seem to put the matter be-
yond a doubt. It mentioned a drawing pricked on
the left arm of Duval, who had escaped from the
hospital at Quimper, as a thing which would at once
dispel every doubt as to the identity of the individual
detained at Douai. I was again summoned before the
examining-judge, and Hurtrel, already triumphing in
his penetration, was present at the interrogation. At
the ﬁrst words I saw what was comin , and stripping
my coat sleeve above my elbow, I showed them the
drawing, which they scarcely eitpected to ﬁnd, and.
which exactly coincided with the description sent from,
l’Orient. All were in the clouds again, and what yet,
made the situation more complicated, was that the
authorities of l‘Orient demanded me as_a deserter_
from the ﬂeet. Fifteen days were thus spent without
any decision having been made concerning me; then;
tired with the severities used towards me, and hoping
to procure approbation, Iwrote to the president of
the criminal tribunal, declaring that I was really Vi-,
docq. I had determined on this, under the idea
that I should be sent forthwith to Bicétre witha party,
and that was actually the result. It was utterly imp
possible, however, for me to make the least effort to
escape by the way, as I was guarded with unremitting
vigilance. '
. I made my second entry at Bicétre on the second of -
April 1799, and there found some old prisoners, who,;
although galley-slaves, had obtained permission to-
have their sentence to the Bagne remitted, and it was
an advantageous commutation for them, as the dura-
‘ tion of their punishment took date from the day of
their actual apprehension. These kinds of favours are
occasionally granted at the present day; and if only
conferred on persons whom peculiar circumstances of
condemnation, or repentance, rendered worthy of it,
we should give it a tacit consent; but deviations from
the general principle arise ordinarily from the sort of


mamorns or VIDOCQ. 197
struggle which exists between the police of the pro-
vinces and the general police, each of which has its
favourites. The convicts, however, always belonging
to the general police, it can remove at will any pri-
soner from the Bicétre, or other prison, to the Bagne,
and: this is convincing with regard to the observation 1
have_.just made. The convict, who up to this time
had. conducted himself with apparent piety, throws off I
the mask,.and shows himself one of the most depraved
of malefactors.
I saw at Bicétre captain Labbre, who, it may be
recollected supplied me, when at Brussels, with papers,
by means 0 which I had deceived the baroness
d’I He had been sentenced to sixteen years at
the galleys, for being concerned in an extensive rob-
bery committed at Ghent, at the house of Champon,
the‘aubergiste. He was, with us, to depart with the
ﬁrst chain, the near approach of which was disagree-
ably announced to us. Captain Viez, knowing the
gentlemen who were to be conﬁded to him, had de-
clared, that to prevent any chance of escape, he would
ut us on wrist-cuﬁs and collars until we reached
oulon. However, our promises induced him to
forego this formidable roject.
After the rivetting o? the fetters was done (in a simi-
lar way to that in which it had been erformed at my
ﬁrst departure) I was put at the head otP the ﬁrst cordon,
with Jossas, one of the most celebrated robbers of
Paris and the provinces, better known as the marquis
de. Saint-Armand de Faral, which he constantly bore;
He was a man about thirty-six years old, with a gen-
tlemanly appearance, and able to assume at will the
most perfect suavity of manners. His travelling cos-
tume was that of a dandy leaving his bed-room for his
boudoir. With pantaloons of silver-gray knit mate-
rials, he wore a waistcoat and cap trimmed with
Astracan fur, of the same colour, and the whole
covered, with a large cloak lined with crimson velvet.
His expenditure equalled his appearance, for not

5 2


198 mamoxas or vmocd.
contented with living sum tuously at the places of
repose, he also supported ree or four others of the
cordon.
Jossas never had any education, but having entered
when very young into the service of a rich colonel,
whom he accompanied in his travels, he had acquired
manners sufﬁciently good not to disgrace any circle.
Thus his comrades seeing him introduce himself into
the ﬁrst society, named him “ Passe-par-tout.” He
was so completely identiﬁed with this character, that
at the Bagne, when conﬁned in double irons, and ming-
ling indiscriminately with men of the most miserable
appearance, he still kept up a portion of his grandeur,
though disguised in a convlct’s cassock. Having pro-
vided himself with a splendid dressing-box, he bestowed
an hour daily on his toilet, and was extremely particular
about the appearance of his bands, which were cer-'
tainly very handsome. _
Jossas was one of those thieves, of whom, form“
nately, but few are now in existence. He meditated
and prepared an enterprise sometimes as long as a
year beforehand. Operating principally by means of
false keys, he began by taking ﬁrst the impression of
the lock of the outer door. The key made, he entered
the ﬁrst part; if stopped by another door, he took a
second impression, had a second key made; and thus
in the end attained his object. It may be judged, that
only being able to get on during the absence of the
tenant of the apartment, he must lose much time be-
fore the ﬁtting opportunity would present itself. He
only had recourse to this expedient when in despair,
that is, when it was impossible to introduce himself to
the house; for if he could contrive to procure admit-
anch under any pretext, he soon obtained impressions
of all the locks, and when the keys were ready, he
used to invite the persons to dine with him, in the
Rue Chantereine, and whilst they were at table, his
accomplices stripped the apartments, from whence ‘he
had also contrived to draw away the servants, either


mmoms or vrnocq. 199
by asking their masters to bring them to help to wait at
table, or by engaging the attention of the waiting-
maids and cooks by lovers who were in the plot. The
porters saw nothing, because they seldom took any-
thing but jewels or money. If by chance any large
parcel was to be removed, they folded it up in dirty
linen, and it was thrown out of window to an accom-
plice in waiting with a washerwoman’s wheel-barrow.
A multitude of robberies committed by Jossas are
well known, all of which bespeak that acute observa-
tion_ to invention which he possessed _in the highest
degree. In society, where he passed as a Creole of
Havannah, he often met inhabitants of that lace, with-
out ever letting anything escape him whic could bel
tray him. He frequently led on families of distinction
to oﬂ'er him the hand of their daughters, Taking care
always, during the many conversations thereon, to
learn where the dowry was de osited, he invariably
carried it off; and absconded at t e moment appointed
for signing the contract. But of all his tricks, that
played off on a. banker at Lyons it perhaps the most
astonishing. Having acquainted himself with the ways
of the house, under pretext of arranging accounts and-
negociations, in a short time an intimacy arose, which
gave him the opportunity of getting the impression of
all the locks except that of the cash chest, of which a
secret ward rendered all his attempts unavailing. 0n
the other hand, the chest being bullt in the wall, and
cased with iron, it was impossible to think of break-
ing it open. ' The cashier, too, never parted from
his key; but these obstacles did not daunt Jossas.
Having formed a close intimacy with the cashier, he
proposed an excursion of pleasure to Collonges; and
on the day oppointed, they went in a cabriolet. On
approaching Saint Rambert, they saw by the river side
a woman apparently dying, and the blood spouting from
her mouth and nostrils; beside her was a man, who
appeared much distressed, assisting her. Jossas, testi-
fying considerable emotion, told hlm that the best me-


200 mamoras or vrnocq.
thod of stopping the effusion of blood was to apply a
key to the back of the female. But no one had. a key,
except the cashier, who at ﬁrst offered that of his
apartment. That had no eﬂ'ect. The cashier, alarmed
at seeing the blood ﬂow copiously, took out the key
of his cash-chest which was applied with much success
between the shoulders of the patient. It has been al-
ready guessed that a piece of modelling wax had been
placed there previously and that the whole scene had
been preconcerted. Three days after, the cash-box was
empty.
As I have already stated, Jossas playing of the high
and mighty, spent money with the facility of a.man
who comes easily by it. Besides, he was very chari-
table; and I could cite many instances of his whimsi-
cal generosity, which I leave to the ex'aminatiom of
moralists. Amongst others, the following: One day
he penetrated into an apartment in the Rue du Hazard,
which he had been informed would yield a rich booty.
At ﬁrst the wretchedness of the furniture surprised
him, but the proprietor might be a miser. He went
on searching, burst open all, broke everything, and
only found in a desk a bundle of pawnbrokers’ dupli-
cates. He took from his pocket ﬁve louis, and placing
them on the mantel-piece, wrote on the glass these
words, “ Payment for broken furniture ;” he then re-
tired, after closing the doors carefully, lest any other
robbers, less scrupulous, should carry off what he had
respected.
When Jossas set out with us for Bicétre it was his
third journey. He afterwards escaped twice, was re-
taken, and died at the Hague at Rochefort in 1806.
On our way to Montereau, I was witness of a scene
which may as well be known, as it may prevent a si-
milar recurrence. A convict, named Manger, knew
a young man of the city, who was believed by his pa~
rents to be sentenced to the gallies; and recommend.
ing his next neighbour to hide his face with his hand-
kerchief, he told several persons we met on our way,


MEMOIRS or'vrnocq.‘ 201
that the' persons who thus concealed himself was the
young man in question. The chain went onwards, but
scarcely were we a quarter of a league from Montereau,
when a man, running after us, gave the captain ﬁfty
francs, produced by a collection made for the ‘man
with the handkerchief.’ These ﬁfty francs were in the
evening distributed amongst the plotters of the scheme,
without any other persons but themselves knowing the
cause of such liberality.
_ At Sens, Jossas played another comedy. He had
sent for a man, named Sergent, who kept the auberge
de l’Ecu; and on his arrival, this man testiﬁed the
most excessive grief. “ What I” he exclaimed, with tears
in his eyes, “ you here, my noble marquisl You, the
brother of my' old master! I, who thought you on
your return to Germany] Oh heavensl what a mis-
fortune.” It may be guessed that in some expedition,
Jossas, being at Sens, had passed himself for an emi-
grant, returned clandestinely, and the brother of a
count with whom Sergent had been cook. Jossas
explained to him how, being apprehended with a forged
passport at the moment he was gaining the frontier, he
ad been sentenced as a forger. The good aubergiste
did not conﬁne himself to empty lamentations, but
sent the galley slave an excellent dinner, which I par-
took, with an appetite greatly contrasted with my
wretched situation.
Save and except a tremendous chastisment inﬂicted on
two convicts who had tried to escape at Beaume, no-
thing extraordinary occurred till we reached Chalons,
when we were put on board a large boat, ﬁlled with
straw, very similar to those which convey charcoal to
Paris; the whole covered, with a thick. cloth. If, to
cast a glance over the country, or breathe a purer air,
a convict ventured to raise a corner, a shower of blows
rained instantly on his shoulders. Although freed from
such treatment, I was not the less affected at my situa-
tion; scarcely could the gaiety of Jossas, who was ne-
ver downcast, avail in making me for a moment for-r


‘20‘2 unMoms or vmoco.
get, that, on reaching the Bagne, I should be the ob-
ject of a special vigilance that must frustrate every
hope of escape. This idea doubly depressed me when
we reached Lyons.
()n seeing the lie Baslie, Jossas said to me, “ You
are going to see something new.” I saw, on the quay
of the Seine, an elegant carriage, which seemed to be
awaiting the arrival of the boat. As soon as it came
in sight, a female put her head from the window, and
waved a white handkerchief. “It is she,” said Jossas,
who replied to the signal. The boat having been
moored to the qua , the lady descended, and mixed in
the crowd of 100 ers-on; I could not see her face,
which was concealed by a very thick black veil. She
remained there from four in the afternoon till even-
ing, and the crowd then dispersing, Jossas sent lieute-
nant Thierry to her, who soon returned with a sausage,
in which were concealed ﬁfty louis. I learnt that Jos-
sas, having made a conquest of this lady under his title
of marquis, had informed her by letter of his con-
demnation, which he doubtlessly accounted for as he
had done with the aubergiste at Sens. These sort of
intrigues, now very rare, were at this period very
common, in consequence of the disorders which sprung
from the revolution; an event which shook to the very
centre the structure of social order and good conduct
in society. Ignorant of the stratagem plotted to deceive
her, the veiled lady reappeared the next day on the
quay, and remained there until our departure, to the
great satisfaction of Jossas, who not only was recruited
in ﬁnance, but was assured of an asylum in the event
of effecting his escape.
We had nearly reached the termination of our navi-
gation, when two leagues from Pont St Esprit, we
were overtaken by one of those terriﬁc storms so com-
mon on the Rhone. It was announced by distant
rumblings of thunder. Soon afterwards, the rain des-
cended in torrents; gusts of wind, such are only expe-
rienced under- the tropics, blew down houses, uprooted


MEMOIRS or vrnocq. 203
trees, and drove the waves mountain high, which
threatened at each moment to overwhelm us with de-
struction. At this moment, the spectacle that pre-
sented itself was horriﬁc; by the rapid ﬂashes of light-
ning were to be seen two hundred men, chained so as
to deprive them of the remotest ho e of safety, and
expressing by fearful cries the anguis of approaching
death, rendered inevitable by the weight of their fetters:
on their sinister countenances might be read the desire
to preserve a life disputed by the scaffold, a life hence-
forward to be spent in misery and degradation. Some
of the convicts evinced an absolute passiveness, many,
on the contrary, delivered themselves up to a frantic
joy. If any unfortunate wretch, mindful of his inno-
cent youth, muttered out the fragment of a prayer, his
next companion would perhaps shake his fetters, whilst
he howled an obscene song, and the prayer expired in
the midst of lengthened bowls and shrieks.
What redoubled the general consternation was, the
despair of ‘the mariners, who seemed to have given
all over for lost. The guards were not more conﬁdent,
and even gave symptoms of an intention to quit the
boat, which was visibly ﬁlling fast with water. Then
matters took a fresh turn, and they urged on the ar-
gousins, crying,“Make the shore; let all make for shore."
The darkness, added to the confusion of the mo-
ment, aﬂbrding an opportunity with impunity, the most
intrepid of the convicts rose, declaring that no person
should quit thg boat until 'it reached the bank. Lieu-
tenant Thierry was the only one who appeared to have
preserved his presence of mind; he put on a bold front,
and protested that there was no danger, as neither he
nor the sailors had any intention of quitting the vessel.
We believed him the more as the weather was gra-
dually becoming more moderate. Daylight appeared,
and on the surface of the waters, smooth as ice, there
would have been nothing to recall the disasters of the
night, if the muddy tide had 'not been strewn with dead
cattlgtrees, and fragments of ﬁirniture and houses.


204 msmoms or vinoco.
Escaped from the tempest, we landed at Avignon,
and were conﬁned in the castle. There commenced
the vengeance of the argousins; they had not for-
gotten what they were pleased to term our insurrection;
refreshing our memories with it by blows from their
cudgels, and then preventing the public from giving the
convicts that assistance which the end of the journey
prevented from passing through their hands. “Aims
to these vagabondsl” said one of them, called father
Lami, to some ladies who wished to bestow some
aid; “ it would be money lost. Besides, ask the
ca tain.”
ieutenant Thierry, who ought not to be mentioned
with such brutal and inhuman beings, and of whom I have
already spoken, gave permission; but, by a reﬁnement
of villany the argousins made the signal for departure
before the distribution was ﬁnished. The rest of the
journey had no features of interest; and at length, after
thirty-seven days of most painful travel, the chain en-
tered Toulon. . .
The ﬁfteen carriages arrived at the port, and drawn
up in front of the rope-yard, the convicts were or-
dered to alight, and were then escorted to the court-
yard of the Bagne. On the way thither, those who
had clothes worth anything made all possible haste to
take them off and sell or give them to the crowd which
assembled at the arrival of a new chain. When the
clothing of the Bagne was distributed, and the mana-
cles had been rivetted, as I had seen it done at Brest,
we were conveyed on board a cut-down frigate, called
le Husard (now le Frontin) used as the ﬂoating Bagne.
As soon as the ‘ payots’ (convicts employed as writers)
had written down our descriptions, the “ return horses"
escaped convicts) were rivetted to the double chain.
" heir escape added three years additional conﬁnement
to the original sentence.
As I was thus circumstanoed, I was sent to No. 3,
where the most suspected convicts were placed. Lest
they should ﬁnd an opportunity for escaping in going


'Mamoms or VIDOCQ. 205
to the harbour, they never went to labour. Always
fettered to the ‘banc,’ lying on the bare plank, eaten
up by vermin, and worn out by brutal treatment and
want of nourishment and exercise, they presented a
most lamentable appearance.
What I have already said concerni the abuses of
every kind, of which the Bagne at rest was the _
theatre, precludes the necessity of making any remarks
on that at Toulon. Here was the same mixture of
convicts ; the same inhumanity of argousins; the same
pilfering of the government property; only the impor-
tance of the armaments afforded more scope for
plunder to the galley-slaves, who were 'employed in
the arsenals or magazines. Iron, lead, brass, hemp,
pease, beans, oil, rum, smoked beef, and biscuit, disap-
peared daily; and the men easily found receivers, as
the convicts had ver active auxiliaries in the marines
. and free workmen o the dock-yard. The rigging pro-
cured by these means served to equip a multitude of
boats and ﬁshing smacks, whose owners got them very
cheaply, and were borne out, in case of inquiry, by
saying that they had bought them at a sale of refuse
stores.
'A convict of our ward, who being a prisoner in
England, had worked as a carpenter in the dock-yards
of Chatham and Plymouth, told us that the plunder
was there very great. He assured us that in all the
villages along the banks of the Thames and Medway,
there were persons perpetually occupied in untwisting
the cordage of the royal navy, to take out the marks
and stamps put in to make it known; others were
employed in eﬂ'acing the ‘ broad arrow’ stamped on all
the metal materials used in the arsenals. These thefts,
however considerable, are not at all comparable to the
robberies on the river Thames, so very injurious to
trade. Although the establishment of a nver police
has in great measure repressed these abuses, I think
it will not be uninteresting to give some details con-
1


206 manoms or vinoco.
ceming the frauds exercised still in some parts at the
ex nce of the cargoes of vessels.
he thieves here alluded to are divided into many
classes, each of which has its particular province or
department; they are called the river pirates (pirates
de riviere); light horsemen (chevaux legers) ; heavy
horsemen (gendarmes); game watermen (bateliers
chasseurs); ame lightermen (gabariers chasseurs);
mud-larks Fhirondelles de vase); acuﬂ'le hunters
(tapageurs); and copmen (receleurs). The river
pirates consist of the boldest and most desperate of
the robbers who infest the Thames: they carry on
their operations in the night against all vessels badly
watched, and whose crews are sometimes murdered
that they may the more easily pillage the vessel. More
frequently they conﬁne themselves to taking the cor-
dage, oars, poles, and bales of merchandize. The
captain of an American brig, anchored oﬂ‘Castlane-Ter,‘
hearing a noise, went on deck to look out, he saw a
boat row away, and found they were pirates, who,
wishin him good evening, told him that they had just
raised is anchor and cable. Having an understanding
with the watchmen charged with taking care of the
cargoes at. night, they plunder with the greatest faci-
lity. When they cannot effect such collusions, they
cut the cables of the lighters and let them drift until
they get to a place where they can effect their object
without any fear of discovery. Small coal barges have
been thus found entirely emptied during the night.
Russia tallow, which from the difficulty of moving the
enormous barrels containing it, would seem to be safe, is
not so; for an instance has been known of the noc-
‘ We give M. V.'s own spelling of this word, but such a
place on the banks ofthe Thames is not known to us, nor, we
elieve to any one else in London : but in reference to Colqu-
houn’s ‘ Police of the Metropolis,’ we ﬁnd this and the follow-
ing anecdotes, whence M. Vidocq must have literally copied
them; and the ‘ Castlane Ter' is ‘ East Lane Tier.’ So much
for accuracy l—Tmnslator.


rumours or Vinoco. 207
' tumal removal of seven of these casks, each weighing
between thirty and forty hundred weight.
The light horsemen also plunder during the night,
but principally those vessels coming from the West
Indies. This species of robbery arises from a con-
certed plan between some of the crew and the receivers,
who buy the scrapings, that is, the samples of sugar,
the refuse of the coffee, or the drippings of the spirits,
and which remain in the hold when the cargo has been
discharged. It is an easy matter to encrease these
by piercing the' sacks, and loosening the hoops of the
barrels. This, a Canadian merchant, who sent a great
deal of oil annually, discovered to his great astonish-
ment. Always ﬁnding a deﬁcit much greater than
could arise from common leakage, and unable to get,
on this head, a satisfactory solution from his cor-
respondents, he determined on making a voyage to
London, to penetrate the mystery. Resolved to pur-
sue his investigations with the most minute research,
he was in the quay waiting with much impatience for
a lighter laden the previous evening, and whose delay
seemed very extraordinary. At length it appeared,
and the merchant saw a pack of fellows of very bad
appearance jump on board with as much eagerness as
a crew of corsairs into a prize. He also went down
into the hold, and was completely stupiﬁed on seeing
the barrels placed with their bungs downwards. When
they begun to unload the lighter, he found as much oil
left ﬂoating in the hold as would ﬁll nine barrels. The
proprietor having had a few planks taken up, there
was found as much more as ﬁlled ﬁve casks, so that
the load of one lighter had made a diminution of
fourteen barrels. It would be scarcely credited, that
the crew, far from being ashamed of this, had the im-
pudence to assert that they had a. right to this as a
proﬁt that belonged to them. ,
Not content with these thefts, the light horsemen,
united with the lightermen, opened, during the night,
barrels of sugar, which they entirely emptied, carrying
them of in black bags which they call “ black straps’


208 MEMOIRS or VIDOCQ.
(bandes noires). Some constables sent to Paris, and‘
with whom I was associated in an aﬂhir, assured me
that in one night there had been carried off from,
various vessels as much as twenty hogsheads of sugar,
and also of rum draWn of by means of a ppmp, called a
jiggier, and which was conveyed away in bladders. The
ships, on board which this trafﬁc is carried, were called
“game ships” (vaisseaux a gibier). At this period,
the robberies of liquors and spirits were, besides, very
common, even in the royal navy. A very remarkable
instance occurred on board the Victory, which brought
to England the dead body of Nelson, killed, as we
know, at the battle of Trafalgar. To preserve the
remains, they were put into a puncheon of rum. On
reaching Plymouth, the puncheon on being opened
was entirely empty and dry. During the voyage, the
sailors, very certain that the purser would not visit
this cask, had drank up all the rum by straw pipes, or
jiggers. They called this “ tapping the admiral”
(mettre l’amiral en perce).
' The game boatmen are on board vessels unloading
their cargoes, and receive, and instantly carry off; all
stolen goods. As they are the parties who treat with
the receivers, they make a proﬁtable busineSs of it,
and spend a great deal of money. I heard of one
who, from the fruits of his industry, kept avery ele-
gant woman, and a saddle horse. ' ,
By mud-larks, are meant those men who grope
about on the shores at low tide, under the bottoms
of vessels, pretending to look for old pieces of cord,
iron, coals, &c., but in fact to receive and conceal
various articles thrown over to them.
The scufﬂe-hunters, are workmen with long aprons,
who pretend to ask for work, go in a body on ship-
board, and ﬁnd opportunities of ‘ prigging’ something
during the confusion.
, Last of all are the receivers, who not content with
buying all that the thieves bring to them, sometimes
have understandings with the captain, or some of the
crew, whom they ﬁnd out to be not indisposed to deal


MEMOIRS or vrnoco. 209
with them. These transactions are made in slang
terms, intelligible only to the parties concerned.
Sugar was “ sand;” coffee, “beans.;” pepper, “small
ease ;” rum, “vinegar;” tea, “hops;” so that they
could deal for them even in the presence of the su-
percargo of the ship, whilst he was not aware that it
was his cargo that was the subject of such roguery.
I found in the cell, No, 3, all' the most abandoned
scoundrels that ever assembled at the Bagne. I saw
there one named Vidal, who even struck the convicts
themselves with horror. Apprehended at fourteen
I years of age, in the midst of a band of brigands, whose
crimes he participated, his age alone redeemed him
from the scaffold. He was sentenced to im risonment
for twenty-four years; but scarcely had e'reached
the prison when, at the conclusion of a quarrel, he
killed a comrade with a blow of his knife. A sentence
of twenty-four years’ hard labour, was then substituted
for that of imprisonment only. He had been for
some years at the Bagne, when a convict was sentenced
to death. There was not an executioner to be found
in the city, and Vidal eagerly offered his services,
which were accepted, and the execution was carried
into effect, but they were compelled to put Vidal on
the bench with the galley-guards, or else the convicts
would have knocked him on the head with their fet-
ters. The threats which menaced him did not prevent
him from fulﬁlling his new ofﬁce again, some time
afterwards. Besides, he undertook to administer the
sentences of bastinado on the prisoners. At length,
in 1794‘, the revolutionary tribunalr having been in-
stalled at Toulon, after the taking of that town by
Dugommier, Vidal w s employed to carry their sen-
tences into effect. e then thought he was liberated,
but when the terror had ceased, he was remanded to
the Bagne, where he was placed under a special
surveillance.
On the same bench with Vidal, was the Jew Des-
champs, one of the principal of the party concerned
'r 2


210 rumours or vrnoco.
in robbing the royal wardrobe (garde-ineuble), to the
details of which the convicts listened with a sinisi
trons pleasure. At the enumeration of the diamonds
and jewels carried off; their eyes sparkled, their
muscles contracted by a convulsive motion; and by
the expression of their countenances, inferences might
unerringly have been drawn of the ﬁrst uses they
would have made of their liberty. This disposition
was particularly discernible in those men only con-
victed of petty oﬂences, who were taunted and ban-
tered as only having stolen objects of small value;
and then, after estimating the plunder of the wardrobe,
at twenty millions of francs, Deschamps, added,
with an air of contempt towards a poor devil sen-
tenced for stealing vegetables, “Ah! ah! this was
cabbage.” -
From the moment when the robbery was perpe-
trated it became the subject of multiplied comments,
which circumstances and agitation of mind rendered
very singular. It was during the meeting of the re-
presentatives on the Sunday evening (16th of Sep-
tember1‘792), that Roland, minister of the interior,
announced the event to the tribune of the convention,
complaining bitterly of the ineﬁicientsurveillance _of
the agents and the military guards, who had forsaken
their posts, under pretext of the “severity of the
cold.” Some days afterwards, Thuriot, who was one
of the commission charged with searching out the
matter, in his turn accused the minister of careless-
ness, who answered drily, that he had something else
to do beside watching the wardrobe. The discussion
rested here, but these debates had aroused the public
attention, and the Sole public theme was of guilty
collusions, and plots framed for robbery, of which the
produce was devoted to keeping the police agents in
pay; they went so far as to say, that the government
had robbed itself; and what gave a consistency to
such a report, was the reprieves granted on the 18th
of October to some individuals condemned for this


nsmoras or vinoco. 211
aﬂair, and from whom confessions were expected.
However, on the 22nd of February 1797, in a report
to the Conseil des Anciens, on a proposal to grant a
reward of ﬁve thousand francs to a madame Corbin,
who had facilitated the discovery of a great quantity
of the plundered property; Thiebault declared, in the
most formal manner, that this event was not the re-
sult of any political measure, and had all been in-
curred by the defective vigilance, of the police, and
by the mismanagement which pervaded every depart-
ment of the administration.
At the beginning, the Moniteur had heated the ima-
ginations of the most wary, by speaking of forty
armed robbers who had been surprised in the ward-
robe. The truth is, that no one was surprised; and
when they ﬁrst discovered the loss of “ the regent,” the
dauphin’s coral, and a vast many other jewels valued
at seventeen millions of francs, for four successive
nights, Deschamps, Bernard Salles, and a Portuguese
Jew, named Dacosta, had in their turns entered the
apartments, without any other arms than the tools re-
quisite to extract the jewels set in the plate, which
the disdained to Icarry off; and thus they removed
wit the greatest precaution the magniﬁcent rubies
which formed the eyes of the ivory ﬁshes.
Deschamps, to whom belongs the honour of the
invention, ﬁrst got into the gallery by climbing a win-
dow, y means of a lamp-post, which still stands at the
angle of the Rue Royale, and the place of Louis XV.
Bernard Salles and Dacosta, who kept- watch, were
at ﬁrst his only comrades; but on the third night,
Benoit Naid, Philipponeau, Paumettes, Fraumont,
Gay, Monton, lieutenant of the National Guard, and
Durand, called ‘le Turc,’ a jeweller in the Rue Saint
Sauveur, were added to the gang, as well as many ﬁrst-
rate ‘ cracksmen,’ who had been, in a friendly way, in-
vited to come and participate in the spoil. The ren-
dezvous was at a billiard-room in the Rue de Rohan;
and, besides, they made so little mystery of the rob-


212 MEMOIRS or vinocn.
béry, that the morning after the ﬁrst booty, Pau-
mettes, dining with some girls at a cook shop, in the
Rue d’Argenteuil, threw on the table to them a hand-
ful of rose and small brilliant diamonds. The police
however got no information. To detect the principal
authors it was necessary that Durand, arrested for
forging assignats, should confess to obtain his own
pardon, and on his information “ the regent” was dis-
covered and seized at Tours, sewn up in the head-
dress of a woman named Lebiene, who, unable to
reach England in consequence of the war, was about
to sell it at Bordeaux to a Jew, known to Dacosta.
They had attempted to get rid of it in Paris, but the
value of the gem, estimated at twelve millions of francs,
would have awakened dangerous suspicions; they had
also given up the idea of cutting the stone, lest the
lapidary should betray them. _
The majority of the robbers were in turns appre-
hended, and sentenced for other oﬁ'ences,‘amongst
whom were Benoit Naid, Dacosta, Bernard Salles,
Fraumont, and Philip oneau; this last, arrested in
London at the close oiP the year 1791, at the moment
he was engraving a plate of assignats of 300 francs,
was taken back to France, and shut up in La Force,
whence he escaped by favour of the massacres of the
2d of September.
Before having been sentenced for the robbery of the
wardrobe, Deschamps had been implicated in a capital
aﬁair, whence he was extricated, although so guilty,
as he boasted to us, by giving details not to be doubted.
He had been concerned in the double murder of the
jeweller Deslong and his servant maid, committed with
his accomplice, the broker Franmont.
Deslong had an extensive business, and besides
private ' purchases, he also bartered diamonds and
pearls; and as he was known to be an honest man, he
often had valuable gems entrusted to him, either to
sell or unset. He also frequented auctions, where
Fraumont ﬁrst knew him, who was constantly at sales


52l4 manoms or vwocq.
the right-hand pocket of his trowsers. The unhappy
creature fell bathed in blood, and whilst the death
rattle was yet sounding in her throat, the ruﬁian
ransacked every corner of the room: but whether this
unexpected event disturbed him, or that he heard
some noise on the staircase, he only carried 06‘ some
pieces of plate which came to hand, and returned to
his accomplice at the vintner’s, and told him the
adventure. He (Fraumont) was much grieved, not
at the murder of the servant, but at the little infor-
mation and clumsiness of Deschamps, whom he
reproached with not having discovered the secret
closet which he had so plainly pointed out; and what
put the cope‘stone on his discontent was, that he
foresaw that after such a catastrophe Deslong would
be more careful of his preperty, and it would be im-
possible ever again to get such an opportunity.
In fact, Deslong did change his lodging after this
event, which inspired him with the most excessive
fright, and the few persons whose visits he allowed
were received-with the greatest precaution. Although
Fraumont did not present himself, yet he had no
suspicion of him. How could he suspect a man who,
if he had perpetrated the crime, would not have failed
to have ransacked the closet, of which he knew the
secret? Meeting him at the end of a few days on the
Place Vendome, he pressed him strongly to come and
see him, and became more intimate with him than ever.
Fraumont then began plotting again; but, despairing
of breaking open the new place of security, which
besides was carefully guarded, he determined on
changing his plan. Led to Deschamps’ house, under
pretence of bargaining for a large lot of diamonds,
Deslong was assassinated and robbed of seventeen
thousand francs, in gold and assignats, with which he
had provided himself by advice of Fraumont, who
dealt him the ﬁrst stab.
Two days elapsed, and madame Deslong, not seeing
her husband return, who never made so long an


manoms or vinocq. 2_l5
absence without a previous intimation, and knowing
that he had considerable property out him, no
longer doubted but that some misfort e had befallen
him. She then want to the police, the. confused or-
ganization of which was then felt sensi in every
department; but, however, they contrived 0 get hold
of Fraumont and Deschamps; and the confession of
the locksmith, which corresponded with the accounts
of the robbery, and who was apprehended soon after, .
would have had an unpropitious termination for them,
had not the authorities refused to give this man the
liberty they had promised to reward him with; and the
police agent, Cordat, who had been the go-between,
unwilling that his promises should be broken, aided
his escape on the way from La Force to the Palace.
This circumstance removing the only witness who
could be brought forward, Deschamps and Fraumont
were set at liberty. '
Condemned afterwards to eighteen years’ im rison-
ment for other robberies, Fraumont set out or the
Bagne at Rochefort on the ﬁrst Nivose, year eight;
but he was not yet out of courage, and by means of
money, produced by his plunder, he had bribed several
persons who were to follow the chain to aid his
escape, in case he should attempt it, or even to carry
him off by force, if need should be. The use he pro-
ppsed to make of his libert was, to assassinate M.
elalande, high president 0 the tribunal which had
condemned him, and commissary of the police of the
Section de l’Unité, who had brought such overwhelm-
ing charges against him. All was ripe for the execution
of this plot, when a common woman, who had learned
the details from the lips of one of the accomplices,
made a spontaneous confession, and measures were
accordingly taken. The escort was informed of it;
and when the chain left Bicétre, Fraumont was put in
extra chains, which were not removed until his arrival
at Rochefort, where he was an object of special vigi-
lance; and I was told that he died at the Bagne. As


216 manoms- or vrnocq.
for Deschamps, who escaped from Toulon soon after,
he was apprehended at the end of three years, as
concerned in a robbery committed at Anteuil, sen-
tenced to death by the criminal tribunal of the Seine,
and executed at Paris.
In cell, No. 3, I was only separated from Deschamps
by a burglar named Louis Mulot, son of that Cornu
who so long aﬂ'righted the people of Normandy, where
his crimes are still unforgotten. Disguised as a
horse-dealer, he frequented the fairs, watched the
merchants who had large sums about them, and taking
the cross roads, laid in wait for and assassinated them.
Married, for the third time, to a young and pretty
woman of Bernai, he had at ﬁrst carefully concealed
from her his infernal trade; but he was not slow in
discovering that she 'was entirely worthy of him, and
thenceforward she accompanied him in all his expe-
ditions. Frequenting all the fairs as a peripatetic
mercer, she easily introduced herself to the rich
graziers of the valley of Auge, and more than one met
his death at the ap ointed spot of gallant rendezvous.
Oﬂen suspected, they brought forward alibis, always
successful, and for which they were indebted to the
ﬂeetness of the excellent horses with which they were
always provided.
In 1794, the Cornu family consisted of the father,
mother, three sons, two daughters and their lovers,
all of whom had been habituated to crime from their
' earliest childhood, either in keeping watch or setting
ﬁre to barns, &c. The youngest, Florentine, having
at ﬁrst testiﬁed some repugnance, they had cured her
delicacy by compelling her to carry in her apron, for
two leagues, the head of a farmer of the environs of
Argentin!
At a later period, entirely devoid of any tender
scrnples, she had, as her lover, the assassin Capelle,
executed in 1802. When the family formed itself
into a band of Chauffeurs to infest the country (Caen
and Falaise) it was she who put to torture the.


msmoms or vinocq. 217
wretched farmers, by putting a lighted candle under
their armpits, or placing blazing tinder on their
toes.*
Hotly pursued by the police of Caen, and particu-
larly by that of Rouen, who had apprehended two of
the juniors of the family at Brionne, Cornu resolved
on retiring for some time to the vicinity of Paris,
trusting thus to elude enquiry. Installed with his
family in a lone house, on the road to Sevres, he did
not fear to take his walks in the Champs-Elyseés,
where he met nearly all the robbers of his acquaint-
ance. “Well, father Cornu,” said they to him one
day, “what are you about now?”—“Oh, always
administering the last consolation (assassination), my
sons—the last c0nsolation.”—-“ That is droll, father
Cornu; but discovery may ensue.”—“ Oh! no fear
where no witnesses. If I had done for all the corn-
threshers (farmers) whom I have only singed, I should
have nothing to funk about now.”
In one of his excursions, Cornu met an old comrade,
who proposed to him to break into a villa, situated in
the wood of Ville d’Avray. The robbery was com-
mitted and the booty shared, but Cornu found that he
had been duped. On reaching the middle of the
wood, he let fall his snuff-box whilst offering it to his
companion, who stooped to ick it up, and at that
very instant Cornu blew out is brains with a pistol-
shot, plundered him, and regained his own house, ~
where he told the tale to his family with bursts of
laughter.
Apprehended near Vernon, at the moment he was
breaking into a farm, Cor-nu was conducted to Rouen,
tried before the Criminal Court, and sentenced to
death. Soon after this, his wife, who was still at
liberty, came every day to bring him food and console
* ‘Vhence the name of Chauﬁ'eurs, or burners.—
Translator. -
VOL. L U


218 mamoxas or vmoco.
him. “ Listen,” said she to him one morning, when
he appeared more dejected than usual, “ listen,
Joseph: they say that death aﬁ'rights you,—don’t
play the noodle, at all events, when they lead you
to the scaffold. The lads of the game will laugh at
on.”
y “ Yes,” said Cornu, “all that is very ﬁne, if one’s
scrag was not in danger; but with Jack Ketch on one
side, and the black shee (clergyman) on the other,
and the traps (gendarmesg behind, it is not quite so
pleasant to be turned into food for ﬂies.”
“ Joseph, Joseph, do not talk in this way; I am
only a woman, you know; but I could go through it.
as if at a wedding, and particularly with you, old lad!
Yes, I tell you again, by the word of Marguerite, I
would willingly accompany you."
“ Are you in earnest?" asked Cornu. “ Yes, quite
in earnest,” sighed Marguerite. “But what are you
getting up for? What are you going to do ?”
“ Nothing,” replied Cornu; and then going to a
turnkey who was in the passage, “ Roch,” said he to
him, “send for the jailor, I want to see the public
accuser.”
“ What! " said his wife, “ the public accuser! Are
you going to split (confess)? Ah, Joseph, consider
what a reputation you will leave for our c ildren l ”
Cornu was silent until the magistrate arrived, and
he then denounced his wife; and this unhappy woman,
sentenced to death by his confessions, was executed at
the same time with him. Mulot, who told me all this,
never re eated the narrative without laughing till he
cried. Flowever, he thought the guillotine no subject
for joking; and for a long time avoided all crimes that
could send him to rejoin his father, mother, one of his
brothers, and his sister Florentine, all executed at
Rouen. When he spoke of them, and the end they
had made, he frequently said, “ This is the fruits of
playing with ﬁre; they shall never catch me at such


nanorns or vrnoco. 219
Workz” and in fact, his tricks were not so rcdoubt-
able; he conﬁned himself to a species of robbery in
which he excelled. His eldest sister, whom he had
brought to Paris, aided him in all his enterprizes.
Dressed as a washerwoman, with a pannicr at her
back and a basket on her arm, she went to all the
houses where there was no porter, and, knocking‘at
the doors, if she learnt that the occupants were from
home, she returned and told Mulot. Then be, dis-
guised as a journeyman locksmith, went, and with his
bunch of picklocks in his hand, opened with the
greatest ease the most complicated locks. Frequently,
that suspicion might not be aroused, in case any one
should pass, his sister, with her apron and a modest
cap on, and with the disturbed appearance of a nurse
who had lost her key, aided his operations. Mulot,
as we may see, did not want foresight, but yet was
one day surprised in the very act, and soon after
condemned to imprisonment.


220 mnuoms or vmoco.
CHAPTER XIV.
1

Father Mathieu—I enter on in new line of business—Ruin of
my establishment—l am supposed to he paralyzed in my limbs
—I am assistant major—Ecce Homo, or the psalm-seller—A
disguise—Step him! he is a fugitive convict—l am added as»
the double chain—The kindness of the commissary—I tell him
a made‘up tale—My best contrived escape—The lady of the
town and the burial—J know not what—Critical situation—A
band of robbers—l detect a thiet—I get my dismissal—I pro-
mise secrecy.
I NEVER was so wretched as after my entry'at the
Bagne at Toulon. Cast at twenty-four years of age
amongst the most abandoned wretches, and neces-
sarily in contact with them, although I would have
preferred a hundred times to be reduced to living in.
the midst of people infected with the plague,—com-
‘pelled only to see and heat: degraded beings, whose
minds were incessantly bent on devising evil schemes,
I feared the dire contagion of such vicious society. g
When, day and night, in my presence, they openly
practised the most vile and demoralized actions, I was
not so conﬁdent in the strength of my own character
as not to fear that I might become but too much
familiarised with such atrocious and dangerous con-
versation. In fact, I had resisted many dangerous
temptations; but want, misery, and the thirst of
liberty, will often involuntarily tempt us to a step
towards crime. I had never been in any situation
where it was more positively incumbent on me to
- attempt an escape; and henceforward all my ideas and
thoughts were turned to the compassing of this mea-
sure. Various plans suggested themselves, but that
.was not suﬂicient; for to put any of them into execu-
tion I must await a favourable opportunity, and until
then, patience was the only remedy for my woes.
Fastened to the same bench with robbers by pro-
fession, who had already escaped several times, I was


rumours or vr‘nocq. 221
it
' j
as well as they, an object of special surveillance, which
it was difﬁcult to divert. In their cambrons (watch-
boxes) at a short distance from us, the argousins were
always on the look-out, and observed our least mo-
tions. Father Mathieu, their chief, had the eyes of a
lynx, and such a knowledge of the men he had to deal
with, that he could tell at the slightest glance if they
were scheming to deceive him. This old fox was
nearly sixty years of age; but having a. vigorous con-
stitution, which seemed proof against”the attacks of
time, he was still hale and hearty. He was one of
those square ﬁgures which never wear out. I have
him now in “ my mind’s eye,” with his little tail, his
grey and powdered locks, and his face in wrinkles
so congruous with the business of his calling. He
never spoke without mentioning his cndgel; it was a
never‘ending theme of pleasurable recital to talk of
the many bastinadoes he had inﬂicted personally, or
ordered to be done. Al ys at war with the convicts,
he knew every one of t 1' tricks. His mistrust was
so excessive, that he often accused them of plotting
when they were not at all thinking of it. It may
be supposed that it was no easy matter to make a.
sop for this Cerberus. I tried however to procure
his favour, an attempt in which no one had as
yet succeeded: but I soon found that I had not
essayed in vain; for I perceptibly gained on his
good will. Father Mathieu sometimes talked to
me; a sign, as the experienced told me, that I had
made some way with him. I thought I might ask
something from him on the strength of this, and I
asked him to allow me to make children’s toys with
the pieces of wood brought in by the working convicts.
He granted all I asked, provided I was steady; and
the next; day I began my work. My companions cut
out roughly, and I ﬁnished the toys. Father Mathieu
approved of my productions; and when he saw that I
had assistance in my work, he could not forbear testi-
fying his approbation, which he had not exyéressed for
U

4|» _
P
u-


222 unmoms or vroocq.
a long time previously. “ Well, well!” said he, “ how
I like eople to amuse themselves; it would be well if
you a] did the same; it would ass time away; and,
with the proﬁts, you might purc ase some small com-
forts.” A few days afterwards, the bench was a per-
fect workshop, where fourteen men, equally anxious to
drive away ennui and to earn a little money, worked
away with much industry. We had all some goods
ready, which were sold by the assistance of the con-
victs who gave us the materials. For a month, our
trade was very brisk, and every day we had abundant
returns, not a sous of which was reserved. Father
Mathieu had authorized us to appoint as our treasurer
a convict named Pantaragat, who sold provisions in
the room in which we were. Unfortunately there are
goods which cannot be multiplied Without the neces-
sary balance between produce and consumption being
destroyed. This is a fact in political economy, that
there is a point when the Egoduction must terminate
for lack of demand. Touloii was replete with toys of
every description, and we must thenceforward sit with
folded arms. No longer knowing what to do, I feigned '
a complaint in my legs, that I might be sent to the
hospital. The doctor, to whom I was recommended
by ather Mathieu, whose protegé I had become, actu-
ally believed that I was unable to walk. When one_
would attempt to escape, it is impossible to manage
better than to contrive to excite such an opinion.
Doctor Ferrant did not for an instant suspect me .of
any intent to deceive him; he was one of those disci-
ples of Esculapius, who, like many of the Hippocrates
of the school of Montpellier, whence he came, think
that bluntness is a part of their profession; but still
he was a humane man, and behaved very kindly to me.
The chief surgeon had also a liking for me, and to me
he trusted the care of his surgery chest; I scraped
his lint, rolled his bandages, and made myself generally
useful, so that my willingness procured for me his

kindness: every one, even to the argousin of the in- 1.


manoms or vmocq. 223
ﬁrmary, behaved well to me, although no one could
exceed in stemness M. l’Homme (that was his name),
whom they called, jokingly, “ Ecce Homo,” because
he had been formerly a seller of psalms and canticles.
Although I had been pointed out to him as a daring
fellow, M. l’Homme was so much pleased with my
good behaviour, and still'more with the bottles of
mulled wine which I shared with him, that he per-
ceptibly became more humanized. When I was pretty
well assured that I should not excite his suspicions, I
unmasked my battery, to overpower his vigilance, as
well as that of his fellow guards. I had already pro-
cured a wig andblack whiskers, and had besides con-
cealed in my mattress an old pair of boots, which,
when well waxed, seemed as good as new; but that
was only an equipment for my head and feet: to com-
plete my toilet, I relied on the head surgeon, who used
to lay on my bed his great coat, hat, cane, and gloves.
One morning, whilst he was en ed in amputating an
arm, I saw that M. lfHomme hatIaéﬂlowed him to assist
in the operation, which was performed at the extremity
of one of the wards: the opportunity for a disguise
was admirable, and I hastened to complete it; and, in
my new costume, I went straight to the door. I had
to pass through a crowd of argousins, but I ventured
boldly, and none of them appeared to pay any atten-
tion to me, and I already thought myself out of danger,
when I heard a cry, “ Stop him, stop him; a prisoner
has escaped I” Iwas not more than twenty steps from
the arsenal, and, without losing my presence of mind,
I redoubled my speed, and having got to the door, I
said to the guard, pointing to a person who was 'ust
entering the city, “ Run with me, he has escaped mm
the hospital.”
This would, perha s, have saved me; but, just as I
stepped over the wic et, I was seized by the wig, and,
on turning round, saw M. l’Homme: resistance would
have been certain death; and I therefore quietly fol-
lowed him back to the Bagne, where I was put to the


224 neurons or vmocq.
double chain. It was evident that I was to undergo
punishment, and to avoid it, I cast myself on my knees
efore the commissary, saying, “ Oh, sir, do 'not let me
be beaten; that is the only favour I ask; I would ra-
ther undergo three years’ additional conﬁnement.”
The commissar , however touching my petition might
have been, con d not keep his countenance; but told
me, that he would pardon me on account of my bold-
ness and ingenuity, on condition that I would point
out the person. who had procured me the disguise.
“ You must be aware,’I I replied to him, “ that the
people who guard us are wretches, who will do any-
thing for money, but nothing in the world shall induce
\ me to betray those who serve me.” Pleased with my
frankness, he ordered me to be released from the dou-
ble chain; and when the argousin murmured at so
much indulgence, he desired him to be silent, adding,
“ You ought to like, rather than be angry with him;
for he has just given you a lesson, which you would
do well to proﬁt by.” I thanked the commissary, and
the next moment was conducted to the fatal bench to
which I was to be fastened for the next six years. I
then ﬂattered myself with the hopes of returning to
my trade of toy-making, but father Mathieu refusing
me, I was compelled unwillingly to remain unem-v
ployed. Two months elapsed without any change in
my circumstances, when, one night, being unable to
sleep, there ﬂashed through my brain one of those
luminous ideas which only occur in darkness. Jossas
was awake, and I mentioned it to him. It may be
surmised that he was always intent on effecting his
escape, and he thought it admirably wonderful as I
had devised it, and begged me not to fail putting
it into execution. It will be seen that I did not neg-
lect his advice. One morning, the commissary of the
Bagne going his rounds, passed near me, and I begged
leave to speak to him in private. “ What do on
want ?” said he. “ Have you any complaint to m e ?
Speak, my man ; speak out, and I will do you justice."


226 MEMOIRS or vmoco.
my blood: once more I conjure you, do not give vme
up to the vengeance of these atrocious monsters."
During this discourse, the convicts were petriﬁed
with astonishment; the could not conceive that one
of their comrades wou d thus upbraid them in their
very teeth; the commissary himself did not know what
to think of such a step; he was' silent, and I saw that
I had touched him deeply. Then throwing myself at
his feet, with tears in my eyes, I added. “Pity me;
if you refuse me, if you go without removing me from
this room, you shall never see me again.” These words
produced the desired effect. The commissary, who
was a worthy man, had me unloosed in his presence
and gave orders that I should be placed with the
working convicts (a la fatigue). I wasyoked with a
man named Salesse, a Gascon, as knav'ish as a convict
may be. The ﬁrst time we were alone he asked me
if I intended to escape. “ I have no thoughts of it,"
replied I, “ I am but too glad that they allow me to
work. But Jossas possessed my secret, and he ar-
ranged all for my escape. I had a plain dress which
I concealed under in galley clothes without the know-
ledge even of my yo e-fellow. A moving screw had
supplied the. place of the rivet in my fetters, and I was
ready to start. The third day after leaving my com-
panions I went out to labour, and presented myself
before the argousin; “Get along, good-for-naught,”
said Father Mathieu, “it is not time.” I was in the
rope-room, and the place appeared propitious. I told
my companion that I had a call of nature, and he
pointed out some pieces of wood behind which I could
go, and he was scarcely out of sight, when throwing
011' my red shirt, and taking out the screw, I ran to-
wards the basin. The frigate la Meuron was then
under repair, which had brought Buonaparte and his
suite from Egypt. I went on board and asked for
the master carpenter, whom I knew to be in the hos-
pital. The cook, whom I accosted, took me for one


neurons or vmoco. 227
of the new crew. I was rejoiced at this, and to
conﬁrm the idea, as I knew him to be a man of
Auvergne, by his accent, I began conversing with
him in his own provincial dialect, and in a tone of
much assurance, although I was on thorns the whole
time; for forty couples of convicts were at work
close to us. They might recognize me in a moment.
A cargo soon set off for the town, and I jumped into
the boat, when seizing an car, I rowed away like an
old sailor, and we soon reached Toulon. Anxious to
reach the country I went to the Italian gate, but no
one was allowed to go out without a green card given
by the magistrates, and I was refused egress, and
whilst I was thinking how I could get out, I heard the
three reports of the cannon which announced my
escape. At this moment a tremor ervaded all my
limbs; already did I see myself in t e power of the
argousins, and all the police of the Bagne. I pic-
tured myself in presence of the excellent commissary,
whom Ihad so baser deceived. If I were taken I
must be lost. These sad reﬂexions coming over me,
Iwalked away in haste, and that I might avoid a
crowd, betook myself to the ramparts.
On reaching a solitary spot, I walked very slowly
like a man who not knowing whither to bend his steps,
is full of consideration, when a female accosted me,
and asked me in provincial French what the hour was ;
I told her that I did not know, and she then began
talking of the weather, and concluded by asking me to
accompany her home; it is only a few yards hence,
she added, and no one will see us. The opportunity
of ﬁnding a place of refuge was too propitious to be
refused, and I followed my conductress to a sort of
small inn, when I sent for some refreshment. Whilst,
we were conversing together, three other cannon
shots were heard. “Ah I” cried the girl, with an air
of satisfaction,-“ there is a second escape to-day.”
“ What!” said I, “my lass, does that pléase you?
Should not you like to get the reward?” “ I, why


2‘28 msmorns or vmocq.
you cannot know much of me.” “Bah, bah,” I re-
plied, “ﬁfty francs are always worth eaming,\'and if I
swear to you that if one of these fellows fall into my
clutches ." “ You are a wretch ! ” she said,
making a gesture of indignation. “ I am only a poor
girl, but Celestine would never eat the bread earned
by means so despicable.” At these words, pronounced
with an accent of truth which left no doubt on my
mind of her sincerity, I did not hesitate to conﬁde my
secret to her. As soon as I had informed her that I
was a convict, I cannot express how much she ap-
peared interested in my fate. “ Mon Dieu I” said she,
“they are so much to be pitied; I would save them
all, and have already saved many; ” then, after pausing
for an instant, as if to consider. “Let me manage it,”
she then added, “ I have a lover who has a green card,
I will borrow it :from him and you shall use it, and,
once out of the city, you can deposit it under a stone
which I will point out to you, and, in the interim, as
we are not in security here, I will take you to my
apartment.” On reaching this, she told me that she
must leave me for a moment. “ I must tell my lover,"
said she, “ and will speedily return.” Women are
sometimes most admirab‘le actresses, and, in spite of
her kind protestations I feared some treachery. Per-
haps Celestine was going to denounce me; she had
not reached the street, when I ran down the staircase;
“Well, well.” cried the girl, “do not fear. If you
mistrust me, come along with me.” I thought it
most prudent to watch her, and we walked away
together, whither I knew not. Scarcely had we gone
ten yards, when we met a funeral procession. “ Follow
the burial,” said my protectress, “ and you will escape ;”
and before I had time to thank her, she disappeared. The
followers were numerous, and I mixed amongst the
crowd of assistants, and that I might not be thought
a stranger at the ceremony, I entered into a conver-
sation with an old sailor, from whose communications
I soon learnt how to utter a few well-timed remarks on


Mimole or vrnoco. 229
the virtues of the defunct. I was soon convinced that
Celestine had not betrayed me. When I left the ram-
parts behind me‘, which it had been of such paramount_
importance for me to pass, I almost wept for joy; but
that I might not betray myself, I still kept up a strain
of suitable lamentations.
0n reachir2g‘the cemeter I advanced in my turn
to the edge 0 the grave, an after having cast a hand-
ful of earth on the cofﬁn, I separated from the com-
pany by taking a circuitous path. I walked on for
many hours without losing sight of Tonlon, and about
ﬁve o’clock in the evening, just as I was entering a
grove of ﬁrs, I saw a man armed with a. gun. As he
was well clad, and had a game-bag, my ﬁrst thought
was that he was a huntsman; but observing the butt
of a pistol projecting from his girdle, I feared that I
had met with one of those provencals, who at the
sound of the cannon, always scour the count in
search of the runaway galley-slaves. If my ears
were just, ﬂight was unavaling; and it was erhaps
best to advance rather than retreat. This I did, and
on approaching him sufﬁciently close to be on my
guard in case he should show any hostilities, I asked
the road to Aix.
“ Do you want the high road or the bye-way?”
said he with peculiar emphasis.
“ Oh either, no matter which,” I answered; hoping
by my indiﬂ'erence to remove his suspicions. ‘
“ In that case, follow this ath, it leads to the
station of the gendarmes ; and ' you do not like tra-
velling alone, you can avail yourself of the escort."
At the word ‘ gendarmes’ I turned pale, and the
stranger perceiving the effect his words had produced,
added, “ Come, come; I see you are not over anxious
to travel on the highway. Well, if you are not in a
very great hurry, I will conduct you to the village of
Pouriéres, which is not two leagues from Aix.” _ _
He seemed so Well acquainted with the locahties,
that I availed myself of his offer, and consented to
x


230 MEMOIRS or VIDOCQ.
follow him. Then, without stirring, he pointed out a
clump of bushes, where he bid me await his joining
me. Two hours passed before he ﬁnished his guard,
and he then came to me—“ Get up,” said he. I
obeyed, and when I thought myself in the thickest of
the wood, I found myself at the borders of it, about
ﬁfty paces froma house, in front of which were seated
several gendarmes. At the sight of their uniforms, I
started. “ What ails you, man,” asked my guide;
“ do you think I would betray you ‘P If you fear any-
thing, take these and defend yourself ;” at the same
time offering me his pistols, which I refused. “ Well,
well ;” he added, and squeezed my hand, to testify
how much he was satisﬁed with m conﬁdence.
Concealed by the bushes whic skirted our path,
we stopped. I could not comprehend the motive of a
halt so near the enemy. Our stay was protracted till
nightfall, when we saw approaching from Toulon a
mail, escorted by four gendarmes, who were relieved
by the same number from the brigade whose vicinity
had so much alarmed me. The mail proceeded on its
journey, and was soon out of sight. My companion
then taking my arm, said in an under-tone, “ Let us
start, nothing can be done to-day.”
We then walked away in an opposite direction for
about an hour, and myguide going up to a tree, clasped
the trunk in his hands, and I saw that he was count-
ing the number of notches cut by a knife—“ Good,
good ;” he ejaculated with an air of satisfaction, which
was to me inexplicable, and taking from his game-bag
a piece of bread, which he divided with me, he then
gave me a bottle, whence I drank with pleasure.
The collation could not have been more opportune,
for I was in want of something to recruit to strength.
In spite of the darkness, we walked so ast that l
was tired, and my feet, long unused to exercise, had
become so painful that I was going to declare it im os-
sible for me to proceed further, when a village c ock
struck three. “ Gently," said my guide, stooping and


MEMoms or VIDOCQ. 231
placing his earon the ground; “ do as I do, and listen;
with this cursed Polish legion one must be always on
the watch. Did you hear nothing ‘9” ,1 replied that I
thought I heard the footsteps of a body of men.
“ Yes,” he added, it is they; stir not on our life, or
we shall be taken.” He had scarcely spoken, when a
patrol guard came towards the thicket in which we
were concealed. “ Did you see anything, you fel-
lows?” said some one in a low tone.—“ Nothing,
seijeant.”
“ Parbleul I thought so; it is as dark as an oven.
This devil of a Roman, whom heavens thunders crush!
To make us travel all night like wolves in a wood!
Ah, if ever I ﬁnd him, or any of his gang! ”
“‘Qui vive ?, (who goes there ?)” cried a soldier sud-
denly. '
“ What do you see ?" said the serjeant.—“ No-
thing; but I heard a breathing on this side,” and be
indicated the spot where we were.
“ Stuﬂ' l you are dreaming. You are so much alarm-
ed about Roman, that you think that you always have
him in your cartridge-box.” ‘
Two other soldiers asserted that they had heard the
same.
“ Hold your tongues,” replied the sexjeant. “ I see
there is nobody, and we must once more, according to
custom, return to Pouriéres without having trapped
our game. Come, my lads, it is time to be off.” The
patrol seemed disposed to retreat. “ It is a ruse de
guerre,” said my companion. “ I know they will beat
the wood and return upon us in a semi-circle."
It was now necessary that I should be ﬁrm and com-
posed. “ Are you fearful ?” said my guide.
“ This is no time for fear,” I replied.
“ Well then, follow me : here are my pistols; when
I ﬁre, do you the same: so that the four shots only
soundlike one report. Now, ﬁre!”
The four shots were ﬁred, and we then ran with all
speed, without being pursued. The fear of falling into


23‘2 MEMOIRS or vmoco.
an ambuscade had made the soldiers come to a halt,
but we did not pause from our ﬂight. On getting near
an isolated but, the stranger said to me, “ It is now
daylight, and we are safe :” and then leaping the pales
of the garden, he took a key from the hollow trunk of
a tree, and opening the door of the cot we immediately
entered.
1 An iron lamp, placed on the mantel-piece, lighted up
a plain and rustic apartment. I only observed in a
corner a barrel containing, as I thou ht, gunpowder,
and near it on a shelf was a quantity 0 gun-cartridges.
A woman’s attire placed on a chair with one of those
large black hats worn by the provencal peasants, in-
dicated the presence of a sleeping femaleywhose heavy
breathing reached our ears. Whilst I threw a rapid
glance about me, my guide produced from an old trunk
a quarter of a kid, some onions, oil, and a bottle of .
wine: he invited me to partake of a repast, of which I
felt in the greatest need. He seemed very desirous of
interrogating me, but I ate with so much appetite that
I believe he felt a scruple of conscience in interrupting
me. When I had ﬁnished, which was not whilst any-
thing remained on the table, he led me to a sort of
loft, assuring me that I was in perfect safety, and then
left me before I could ask if he was going to stay in
the hut; but scarcely had I stretched myself out on
the straw when a heavy sleep took possession of all
my faculties.
When I awoke I judged by the heig11t of the sun
that it was two o’clock. A female peasant, doubtlessly
the same whose apparel I had seen, warned by my
movements, showed her head at the opening of the
door of my garret—“ Do not stir,” said she in a pro-
vincial dialect, “ the environs are full of sapins (gen-
darmes) who are examining every place.” I did not
know what she meant by ‘ sapins,’ but I guessed that
it did not refer to anything very propitious for me.
At twilight I saw my new friend of the previous
evening, who, after some triﬂing conversation, asked me


MEMOIRS or vrnoco. 233
point-blank who I Was, whence I came, and whither l
was going. Prepared for these unavoidable questions,
I replied that l was a deserter from the ship Ocean,
then in, the roadstead at Toulon, thatl was going to
Aix, whence I hoped to get to my own country.
“ That is all very good," said my host. “I see
who you are; but do you know who I am ?”
“ I ’faith, to tell the honest truth, I ﬁrst took you
for a patrol; afterwards I took you for a leader of
smugglers—and now I do not know what to think.”
“ You shall know then. In our country we are
brave enough, you see, but object to be made soldiers
on compulsion—so we did not comply with the requi-
sition when we could do anything to avoid it. The
quota selected in Pouriéres even refused to march at
all when called upon. The gendarmes came to compel
the refractory, and they resisted. Men were killed on
both sides: and all the townsmen who participated in
the atfray, betook themselve to the woods to escape a
court-martial. We thus met sixty in number, under
the orders of M. Roman and the brothers, Bisson de
Tretz: if you like to remain with us I shall be glad,
for last night’s experience tells me that you are a man
of mould, and Iadvise you not to be in any fear about
gendarmes. Besides, we want for nothing, and run but
little risk. The country people inform us of all that
passes, and give us provisions in time of niaed. Come,
will you join us?”
I did notg'ndge it wise to reject the proposition:
and without reﬂecting on the consequences, I answered
as he wished. I stayed two days at the hut, and on
the third set out with my companion, armed with a
carbine and two pistols. After many hours’ walking
over mountains covered with wood, we reached a hut
larger than that we had quitted: it was the head-
uarters of Roman; I waited a moment at the door
or my guide to announce me. He soon returned, and
introduced me to a large apartment, where I saw about
forty persons, the greater number of whom were
x 2


234 MEMOIRS or vrnoco.
grouped about a man who, by his appearance, half
rustic, half citizen, might have passed for a rich coun-
try proprietor. l was presented to this personage, who
said to me, “ I am dehghted to see you: I have heard
of your coolness, and know your worth. if you will
share our perils, you shall ﬁnd friendship and freedom:
we do not know you, but you have a face which would
command friends everywhere. To sum up all, our
men are honourable and brave—for probity and honour
are our mottos.” After this discourse, which could
only be addressed to me by Roman, the brothers Bisson,
and then all the troop, gave me the embrace of brother-
hood. ’
Such was my reception in this society, to which its
leader attributed a political intent; but it is certain,
that after beginning, like the Chouans, to stop the dili-
gences which conveyed the state monies, Roman had
began to plunder travellers. The mutineers who com-
posed his band had at ﬁrst much reluctance in com-
mitting these robberies; but habits of an unsettled
life, idleness, and especially the difﬁculty of returning
to their homes, soon removed all scruples.
The day after my arrival, Roman appointed me to
conduct six men to the environs of Saint Maximin. I
did not know the purport of the mission. About mid-
night, on reaching the borders of a small thicket that
skirted the road, we ensconced ourselves in a ravine.
Roman’s lieutenant, Bisson de Fretz, recommended
absolute silence. The wheels of a carriage were soon
heard, and it passed us. Bisson looked out cautiously,
and said, “,_ It is the Nice diligence; that will not do
for us: it has more soldiers than ducats.” 'He then
ordered us to retreat, and we regained the hut: when
Roman, enraged at seeing us return empty-handed,
swore loudly, exclaiming, “ Well, well! they shall pay
for this tomorrow.”
It was no longer possible for me to deceive myself
as to the association to which I belonged: I had de-
cidedly fallen in with that famous band of highwaymen


MEMOIRS or vmoco. 236
who were spreading terror throughout Provence. If I
fell into the hands .of justice—a fugitive ey-slave-
I could hardly hope for that pardon w ‘ch might be
granted even to the troop with which I was mingled.
Reﬂecting on all the difﬁculties of my situation, I was
tempted to escape them by ﬂight; but, so recently en-
rolled, how was it possible to evade the strict scrutiny
with which they regarded me? On the other hand, to
express any desire of withdrawing myself from the
confederacy would only have provo ed a suspicion fa.
tal to my purpose or safety. Might I not be conside-
red as a spy, and be shot as such ? Death and infamy
threatened me whichever way I turned. In the midst
of these perplexities to which I was a prey, 'my only
idea was to sound the man who had ﬁrst effected m
introduction amongst my comrades; and, with as muc
apparent indifference as I could assume, I enquired if
it would not be possible to obtain from our captain
leave of absence for a few days P The man looked at
me with an air of cunning and suspicion: “ Yes, friend,”
said he, “ such favours are sometimes obtained, when '
our chief know: well the person to whom he grants
them.” This said, he turned upon his heel, and left
me to rack my brain anew for some happier device to
eﬁ'ect my liberty than this had proved.
I had now been upwards of eleven days with, these
bandits, each day more fully resolved to withdraw
myself from the honour of their exploits, when, one
night that I had fallen asleep through excessive fa-
tigue, I was suddenly aroused by an extraordinary noise;
-I listened, and discovered that the confusion which
had broken my rest was occasioned by one of the troop
having been robbed of a purse heavy with many years’
booty: to my consternation I found that, as being the
last comer amongst them, their suspicions were di-
rected to me. They surrounded me, and formally ac-
cused me of having stolen the purse; the cry was
Unanimously against me, and drowned my protesta-
tions of innocence; they insisted upon searchmg my


236 memoms or vmoco.
person. I had lain down in my clothes, which a hun-
dred hands were ready to strip oﬂ‘ me. What was
their surprise, anger, and astonishment, at preceiving
on my shoulder the brand of a galley-slave l “ A galley-
slave!” exclaimed the captain. “ A galley-slave amongst
us ! He can onlybe here as a spy,- knock him on the head,
or shoot him, that will be soonest done.” I heard the
click of the muskets preparing to obey this last order.
“ One moment,” exclaimed the chief; “let him, before he
dies; make restitution of the lost money.” “ Yes," said I
to him, “ the money shall be restored, but on condition
that you grant me a few minutes’ private conversation.”
He consented to listen to what I had to say, under
the idea that now I should make a full confession; but
the moment I found myself alone with him, I protested
anew that I was entirely innocent of the affair, and
suggested an expedient for discovering the culprit, the
idea of which was drawn from a work I had read of
Berquin’s. My plan was acceded to, and the captain
returned to his men, holding as many straws in his
hand as there were individuals present. “ Observe me
well,” said he to them; “ the longest of these straws
will fall into the hands of him who is guilty.”
The drawing began, each man in silence plucked
out a straw; but when it had concluded, the straws
were .returned to the captain, and his troop looked
with curious eagerness for the result.
One alone was found shorter than the others. A
man named Joseph d’Osiolles resented it. “ You
are then the thief !” exclaimed t e captain. “ Every
straw was of the same length; you have shortened
yours, and thus criminated yourself.”
Joseph was searched, and the stolen purse found
hid in his belt.
My justiﬁcation was complete; the whole troop
acknowledged my innocence; and the captain, whilst
he sought to excuse the violence to which I had been
subjected, added, that I must no longer form part of
his band. “ It is a sad piece of ill luck for you,” said


MEMOIRS on VIDOCQ- 237
he; “ but you must feel that, ha ' been at the gal-
lies —” He did not complete e sentence; but,
putting ﬁfteen louis in my hands, be com elled me to
promise silence as to all I had seen or card for the
next twenty-ﬁve days.
I was prudent, and faithful to my engagement.
END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.
LONDON: -
PRINTED BY 0. AND w. nxynun, anon» 51". 001mm: Sq.


M E M O I R S
OF
VIDOCQ,
PRINCIPAL AGENT OF THE FRENCH POLICE
UNTIL 1827 :
AND NOW PROPRIETOR OF
THE PAPER MANUFACTORY AT ST
MANDÉ.
WRITTEN BY HIMSELF.
TRANSLATED FROM THIE FRENCH.
* Que l'on m'approuve ou non, j'ai la conscience d'avoir fait mon
devoir; d'ailleurs, lorsqu'il s'agit d'atteindre des sgélérats qui sont
en guerre ouverte avec la société, tous les moyens sont bons sauf
la provocation.°
-
MEMoIRes, VoL. II.
IN FOUR VOLUMES.
VOL, II.
LONDON, 1829 :
PRINTED FOR HUNT AND CLARKE,
YoRK sTREET, CovENT GARDEN.


LONbON:
C. AND W. REYNELL, PRINTERS} BROAD STREET, GOLDEN SQ.


CONTENTS. /
CHAPTE R XV-
Page
A receiver of stolen goody-Denouncement—First treaty
with the police—Departure for Lyons—A mistake . . 1
CHAPTER XVI.
Residence at Array—Disguises—The false Austrian—
Departure—Residence at Rouen—Arrest. . . . . . . - 11
I.
CHAPTER XVII.
I The camp at Boulogne—The rencontre—The recruiters
_of the ancien regime—M. Belle-Rose . . ...... .. . . 23


vi
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER xix.
Continuation of the same day—The Cotemporaine—An
adjutant de place—The daughters of mother Thomas
_The Silver Lion—Captain Paulet and his lieutenant
_The pirates _The bombardment—Departure of
lord Lauderdale—The disguised actress—The exe-
cutioner—Henry the Ninth and his ladies—I embark
-—Sea-ﬁght—Paulet’s second is killed—Capture of
a brig of war—My Sosia—I change my name—
Death of Dufailli—Twelflh-day—A frigate sunk—I
wish to save two lovers—A tempest—The ﬁshermen's
wives . .
CHAPTER XX-
I am admitted into the marine artillery—I become a
corporal—Seven prisoners of war—Secret societies
of the army, ‘The Olympiens'—Singular duels—
Meeting with a galley-slave-The count de L—, a
political spy—He disappears-_The incendiary—I am
promised promotion—I am betrayed—Once more in
prison—Disbanding of the Armée de la Lune—The
pardoned soldier—A companion is sentenced to be
shot—The Piedmontese bandit—The camp fortune-
teller—Four murderers set at liberty. . Z . . . i
Page.
81


ACONTENTS. vii
CHAPTER XXI .
7 Page
I am conducted to Douai—Application for pardon—
My wife marries again—The plunge in the Scarpe
—I travel as an ofﬁcer—Reading the dispatches—
Residence at Paris—A new name—The woman of
my heart—I am a Wendering merchant—The com-
missary of Melun—Execution of Herbaux—I de-
nounce a robber; he denounces me -—-The galley-
slaves at Auxerre—I am settled in the capital—Two
fugitives from the Bagne—My wif'e again— Receiving
stolengoods...........................t...-.. 109
CHAPTER xxrr.
Another robber—My wicker car—Arrest of two galley-
slaves—Fearful discovery—St Germain wishes to
involve me in a robbery—I offer to serve the police—
Horrid perplexities—They wish to take me whilst in
bed—My concealment—A comic adventure—Dis-
guises on disguises—Chevalier has denounced me—
Auuette at the Depét of the Prefecture—I prepare
to leave Paris—Two passers of false money—I am
apprehended in my shirt—I nm conducted to the
Bicétre ....\.... ..... . ........ ...............127


CONTENTS-
CH APTE R XXIX-
I seek two celebrated, thieves—The music mistress, or
another “ motherofrobbers"—A metamorphosis, which
is not the last—Scenes of hospitality—The false keys
Ramiﬁcations of an admirable plot—Perﬁdy of an
agent—The plan detected—Mother Noel accuses me
of having robbed her—My innocence recognized—My
female accuser sent to St Lazarre. . . . .. . . . . . . . . - .
CHAPTER XXX.
The police-ofﬁcers sent in pursuit of a celebrated robber
-—They are unable to discover him-Great anger of
one of them—I promise another new-year’s gift to the
'préfet—The yellow curtains and the hump-backed
female—I am a good citizen—A messenger puts me on
the right scent—The chest of the prefecture of police—I
am a coal-man—The fright of a. vintner and his wife
—The little Norman in tears—The danger of giving
Eau-de-Cologne—Carrying off of mademoiselle Ton-
neau—A search—The thief takes me for his mate—-
Thieves laugh at locksmiths—The jump from the
window—The effects of a long slide, or broken
stitches . . .
------ --....--...---
Page
214
227


CONTENTS. xi
CHAPTER XXXI.
" Page
A general clearance at la Courtiile—The white cross—
—I am called a spy—The popular opinion concerning
my agents—Summary of the results of the Brigade de
Sureté—Biography of Coco-Lacour—M. Delavau, and
the Trou-Madame—The grant of my pardon—Retro-
spective glance over these Memoirs—I can speak, I
willspeak“...................... ............ 244


MEMOIRS OF VIDOCQ
CHAPTER xv_
A receiver of stolen goods—Denouncemeut—First treaty with
the police—Departure for Lyons—A mistake.
AFTER the dangers I had undergone whilst remaining
with Roman and his band, some idea may be formed
of the joy which I experienced on quitting them. It
was evident that the government, once determinater
settled, would adopt the most eﬁicacious measures for
ensuring the safety of the interior. The remains of the
bands, which, under the name 0. “ Chevaliers du Soleil,
or the Compagnie de Jésus,” owed their formation
to a political lie-action, deferred indeﬁnitely, could not
fail to be destroyed as soon as was desired. The only
honest excuse for their brigandage—royalism—no longer
existed; and although Hivér, Leprétre, Boulanger,
Bastide, Jansein, and other ‘ sons of the family,’ made
a boast of attacking the couriers, because they found
their proﬁt in it, it began to be no longer in good taste
to think that it was quite correct to appropriate to one-
self the money of the state. All the inoroyables who
had thought it a service to check, pistol in hand, the
circulation of dispatches and the collection of the im-
posts, withdrew now to their ﬁre-sides, and those
who had proﬁted by their exertions, or wished for
other reasons to be forgotten, betook themselves to
a distance from the scene of their exploits. In fact,
order was re-established, and the time was at hand
when robbers, whatever might be their pretext or mo-
VOL. 11. B


2 MEMOIRS OF VIDOCQ.
tive, were no longer to be tolerated. I should have
been very desirous, under such circumstances, to have
enrolled myself in a band of robbers, only, the infamy
of such a procedure apart, I should have been kept
from it by the certainty of being speedily brought to
the scaffold. But another thought animated me; I
wished to avoid, at any cost, the opportunities and
means of committing crimes: Iwished to be free. I
knew not how this wish was to be realised, or did it mat-
ter} my determination was made, and I had, as they
say, marked a cross on the prison. In haste to get at
a considerable distance, I took the road to Lyons,
avoiding the high roads, until I reached the environs
of Orange; there I fell in with some Provencal wag-
goners, whose packages soon revealed to me that they
were about to take the same road as myself. I entered
into conversation with them,- and as they appeared
to me to be hearty jovial fellows, I did not hesitate to
tell them that I was a deserter, and that the would
~ Serve me materially if, to aid me in avoiding t e vigi-
lance of the gendarmes, they would agree to bestow
their patronage on me. This proposal did not surprise
them, and} it even seemed as if they had suspected
that I should claim their protection and secresy. At
this period, and particularly in the south, it was not
rare to-meet with ﬁne fellows, who had left their co-
lours and committed themselves to the care of heaven.
It was then very natural to take my word, and the
waggoners received me kindly; and some money
which I displayed, as if by chance, completed the inte-
rest which I had already excited. It was agreed that
I should pass for the son of the person who had these
conveyances in charge. I was accordingly clothed with
a smock-frock, and was supposed to be making my ﬁrst
journey. I was decorated with ribands and nosegays,
emblems which at each public-house, procured for
me the congratulation of all the inmates.
A new ‘ John of Paris,’ I ﬁlled my part very well ;
but the donations necessary to support it adequately


memoms or vrnoco. 3
lnade such inroads on my purse, that, on reaching
the guillotiere, where I was to leave my party, I had
only twenty-eight sous left. With resources so ineﬂ‘e-
cient, I had no thoughts of ﬁxing my abode at the ho-
tels of the Place des Terreaux. Having wandered about
for some time in the dirty and dark streets of the se-
cond city in France, I remarked, in the Rue des Quatre-
Chapeaux, a sort of tavern where I thought that I
might procure a supper commensurate with my ﬁnan-
ces. I was not mistaken; the Supper was light enough,
and soon dispatched. To remain hungry is indeed a
disagreeable thing; and not to know where to ﬁnd
shelter for one’s head is equally annoying. When I
had wiped my knife, which, however, had not been
much engaged, I was reﬂecting, that I must pass the
night under the canopy of heaven, when, at a table
near to mine, I heard a conversation in that bastard
German so much spoken in some districts of the Ne—
therlands, and with which I was well acquainted. The
speakers were a man and woman about to retire, and
whom I found to be Jews. Informed that at Lyons,
as in many other towns, these people kept furnished
houses, in which they received smugglers, I asked if
they could direct me to a public‘house. I could not
have addressed myself to better persons; for they were
lodging-keepers, and offered to become my hosts, which,
on agreeing to, I accompanied them to the Rue Tho-
massin. Six beds were in the room in which I was
placed, none of which were occupied, although it was
ten o’clock, and I fell asleep under the idea that I
should have no companions in my room.
On awaking, Iheard the following conversation in
a slang language which was familiar to me.
“It is half past six,” said a voice, which was not
unanWn to me, “ and you lie snoring still.”
“ Well, and what then? , We wanted to break open
the old goldsmith’s shop to night, but he was on his
guard, and we ought to have given him a few inches of
cold steel, and then the blood would have ﬂowed."


4 MEMOIRS or vmocq.
4
“ Ah ha! but you fear the guillotine too much. But
that is not the way to go to work to get the money.”
“ I would rather murder on the highway, than
greak open shops; the gendarmes are always at your
eels.”
“Well, then, you have got no booty; and yet there
were snuff-boxes, watches, and gold chains enough. The
Jew will have no business to day.”
“ No ; the false key broke in the lock, the citizen
'cried for help, and we had to run for it. . . .” ,
“Holla !" said a third person; “ do not wag your
tongue so fast; there is a man in bed, who may be
listening.”
The advice was too late, but it silenced them, and
I half-opened my eyes to see the faces of my compa-
nions; but my bed being very low, I could not per‘
ceive them. I remained quiet, that they might sup-
pose me asleep; when one of the speakers having
arisen, I recognised him as an escaped prisoner from
Toulon, named Neveu, who had left some days before
me. His comrade jumped out of bed, and him I knew
to be Cadet-Paul, another fugitive; a third, and then
a fourth arose, and I knew them all then to be galley-
slaves.
I almost fancied myself in my room, No. 3. At
length I got up from my bed, and scarcely had I
apt foot on the ﬂoor, when they all exclaimed “ ’Tis
idocq 1” They surrounded and congratulated me.
One of be robbers, Charles Deschamps, who had es~
caped a few days after me, told. me, that the whole
Bagne were fall of admiration at my boldness and suc-
cess. Nine o’ clock having struck, they conducted me to
breakfast, where we joined the brothers Quinét, Bonnee
foi, Robineau, Metral, and Lemat, names well known
in the south. They overwhelmed me with kindnesses,
procured me money, clothes, and even a mistress.
I was here situated precisely as I had been at
Nantes, but I was not more desirous of following the
profession of my friends than I had been in Bretagne;


~ MEMOIRS or vrnocq. 5
/
but until I had a remittance from my mother I must
live somehow. I thought I might manage to support
myself for a time without labour. I proposed most
determinately only to receive subsistence from the
robbers; but man proposes and God disposes. The
fugitives, discontented that I, under various pretexts,
always avoided joining their daily plundering parties,
at once denounced me, to get rid of a trouble-
some witness, who might become dangerous. They
imagined that I should escape, as a matter of course,
and relied, that once known by the police, and having
no refuge but with their band, I should then unite
myself to their party.I In this circumstance, as in all
others of a similar kind, in which I have been found,
if they were so desirous of my companionship, it was
because they had a high opinion of my penetration,
my adroitness, and particularly of my strength,—-a
valuable quality in a profession in which proﬁt is too
often attained by peril.,
Arrested at Adele Bufﬁn’s, in the passage Saint
Come, I was taken to the prison of Roanne, where I
learnt from my examination that I had been sold. In
the rage which this discovery threw me into, I took a
sudden step, which was in a measure my introduction
to a career entirely new to me. I wrote to M. Dubois,
commissary-general of the police, requesting a private
interview, and the same evening I was conducted to
his private closet. Having explained my situation to
him, I offered to put him in the way of seizing the
brothers Quinet, then pursued for having assassinated
the wife of a mason of the Rue Belle-Cordaire. I
proposed besides to point-out the means of appre-
hending all the persons, lodging as well at the Jew’s
as at Caﬂin’s, the joiner’s, in the Rue Ecorche-Buauf.
In return, I only asked for liberty to quit Lyons.
M. Dubois had doubtless been before the dupe of
such proposals, and I saw that he hesitated to trust
me; “ You doubt my word,” said I to him: “ should
you still suspect me if I should escape o; my way
. n ‘


6 mzmorns or vrnocq.
back to prison, and return and surrender myself as
your prisoner?”—“No,” he replied. “Well, then,
you shall soon see me again, provided that you consent
not to give my guards any additional orders for my
security.” He agreed, and I went awa ; but on
arriving at the comer of the Rue de la anterne, I
knocked down the two tipstaﬁs, who had each an arm.
of mine, and regained the Hotel de Ville with all
possible speed, where I found M. Dubois, who was
greatly surprised at my prompt re-appearance; but
certain from that that he might rely on me, I was.
allowed to go at liberty. .-
The next day I saw the‘Jew, whose name was
Vidal, who directed me to “a house in the Rue Croix
Rousse, where, he said, my friends had gone to live,
and thither I went. They knew of my escape; but
as they had no idea of my understanding with the
commissary-general of police, and did not think that
I knew who had directed the blow which struck me,
they gave me a very cordial reception. During the
conversation, I gathered details from the brothers
Quinet, which I transmitted to M. Dubois' the same
evening, and who, convinced of my sincerity, reported
.my conduct to M. Ganier, secretary-general of the
police, and now commissary at Paris. ~I gave this
gentleman all necessary information, and must say
that he acted on his part with much tact and activity.
Two days before they commenced operations, as
I had advised on Vidal’s house, I thought it expedient
that I should be again arrested. I was again con-
ducted to the prison of Roanne, where the next day
Vidal, Coﬁin, Neveu, Cadet Paul, Deschamps, and
many others, 'whom they had caught in the same
snare, were brought in. I was at ﬁrst kept from
communicating with them, because I had thought it
best that I should be put ‘au secret.’ When I was
released from it, at the end of several days, to join
the other risoners, I pretended much surprise at
ﬁndin all t e party here; none appeared to have the
least idea of the part which I had played. Neveu


\-
.»
MEMOIRS OF- VIDOCQ. 7
alone regarded me with distrust; and on my demand-
ing the cause, he said, that by the way in which they
had been pursued and interrogated, he could not help
suspecting that I was the denouncer. l feigned muc
indignation, and fearing that this opinion might be dis-
seminated, Iassembled the risoners, and informing them
of Neveu’s suspicions, I emanded if they thought me
capable of selling my comrades? and on their answer-
ing in the negative, Neveu was compelled to apologise
to me. It was important to me that these suspicions
should be thus destroyed; for I knew that certain
death would be my doom if they had been conﬁrmed.
There had been many instances at Roanne of this
distributive justice, which the prisoners exercised
towards one another. _One named Moissel, suspected
of having given information relative to a robbery of
church plate, had been knocked on the head in the
court, without the assassin being detected. More
recently, another individual accused of a similar indis-
cretion, had been found one morning hung with a
straw band at the bars of his window, and the perpe-
trator was never discovered.
In the mean time, M. Dubois sent for me to his
closet, where, to avoid suspicion, the other prisoners
were conducted with me, as if about to undergo an
examination. I entered ﬁrst, and the commissary-
general told me that many very expert robbers had
arrived at Lyons, from Paris, and the more dangerous,
as being supplied with regular credentials, they might
wait in safet for the opportunity of .making some
decided mm c, and then immediately go away:
their names were Jaillier, called Boubanec, Bouthey,
called Cadet, Buchard, Garard, Mollin,‘ called the
Chapellier, Marquis, called Main d’Or, and some
others less notorious. These names, by which they
were mentioned, were then entirely new to me; and
I told M. Dubois so, adding, that possibly they might
be false. He wished to release me immediatel , that
by seeing these individuals in some public pace, I
might assure myself whether I had ever seen them


8 MEMOIRS or vrnoco.'
before; but I observed to him, that so abrupt a libera-
tion would certainly compromise me with the prisoners,
in case that the good of the service should require me
again to be entered as prisoner on the jailor’s books.
The reﬂection appeared just; and it was,agreed that
they should dense a means of sending me away the
next day without incurring suspicion.
Neveu, who Was amongst the prisoners, was also
examined after me in the commissaries’ closet. After
some minutes he came out in a rage, and I asked him
what had happened?
“What do you think?” said he, “the old covey
wanted me to turn nose on the cracksmen who have
just arrived. If they ﬁnd no one to blow them but me
they are all right.” 7
“ Why, I did not think on such a ﬂat,” said I, the
idea ﬂashing on my min , that I might turn this to
advantage, “I have promised to blow the gang, and
ensure them a lodging in the stone jug.”
“ What! you turned nose ? Besides, you are not ﬂy
to the gang.” _
“ What matters that? I shall get out of quod, and
show them my heels, whilst you are still clinking the
darbies.” ~ .
. N eveu appeared struck with the idea, and expressed
much regret for having refused the offers of the com-
missary-general; and as I could not get rid of him,
Ibegged him to return to M. Dubois and recall his
refusal. He agreed; and as I had arranged, we were
one evening conducted to the great theatre; then to
the Celestins, where Neveu pointed out to me all the
men. We then retired, escorted by the police agents,
who kept close upon us. For the success of my plan,
and to avoid suspicion, it was expedient to make the
attempt to escape, which would. at least conﬁrm the
hope which I had given to my companion, and I told
him of my intention. On passing Rue Merciere, we
entered abruptly into a passage and closed the door;
and whilst the ofﬁcers ran to the other end, we went
out quietly by the way. we had entered. When they


manoms or VIDOCQ- 9
returned, ashamed of their stupidity, we were already
at a considerable distance.
Two days afterwards, Neveu, who was no longer
wanted, and could not suspect me, was again arrested.
I, knowing then the robbers whom we wanted, pointed
them out to the police‘oﬁicers, in the church of Saint
Nizier, where they had one Sunday assembled, in the
hope of making a good booty on the termination of
the prayers. Being no longer useful to the authorities,
I then quitted Lyons to o to Paris, where, thanks to
M. Dubois, I was sure ogarriving in safety.
I set out on the Burgundy road by the diligence,
which then only travelled by day. At Lucy-le-Bois,
where I slept with the other travellers, I was forgot-
ten; and on waking, learnt that the vehicle had been
gone two hours. I trusted to overtake it, in conse-
quence of the ru edness of the road, which is very
steep in these distncts; but on reaching Saint Brice,
I was convinced that it was too much in advance to
allow of my overtaking it, and I accordingly slackened
my pace. A person who was travelling in the same
direction, seeing me in a eat heat, looked attentively
at me, and asked me if I lgirad come from Lucy-le-Bois ;
and on my replying in the aﬂirmative, our conversation
rested there. This man stopped at Saint Brice, whilst
I pushed on to Auxerre. Spent with fatigue, I entered
an inn, where, after having dined, I desired to be con-
ducted to a bed.
I slept for several hours, when I was awakened by
a great noise at my door, at which some persons were
knocking violently. I got up, half dressed, and my
eyes, heavy from sleep, gazed, as I opened the door,
on tri-coloured scarves, yellow trowsers, and red
facings. It was the commissary of police, attended b
the quarter-master and two gendarmes, a sight whic
[could not see without some emotion. “ See how
pale he turns,” said one of them ; “it is he.” I raised
my eyes, and recognised the man who had spoken to
me at Saint Brice; but nothing explained to me as
yet the motive of this sudden invasion.


10 Mamoms or vinocq.
" Let us proceed methodically,” said the commisu
sary ; “ ﬁve feet ﬁve inches (French measure), that is
' right ; brown hair—eye-brows and beard, idem—com~
mon forehead—grey eyes—prominent nose— good
sized mouth-_round chin—full face—good colour—
tolerably stout.”
“ It is he,” said the quarter-master, the two gens
darnles, and the man of Saint Brice.
“ Yes, it is indeed,” said the commissary in his turn.
“ Blue surtout—trowsers of grey casimere—white
waistcoat—black cravat.”
This was my dress, certainly.
“ Well, did I not say so,” said the oﬁicious guide .
of the police': “ he is one of the robbers l ” '
The description tallied exactly with mine. But I
had stolen nothing; and yet in my situation I could
experience all the disquiets of having done so. Per-
haps it was a mistake; perha s also. . . . The party
Were transported with joy. “ eacel” said the com-
»missary; and turning over the leaf, he continued, “ We
shall easily recognise his Italian accent. He has
besides the thumb of the right hand injured by a
shot.” I spoke, and showed my right hand, which
Was in a perfbctly sound state. All the party stared;
and particularly the man of Saint Brice, who appeared
singularly disconcerted: as for me, I felt relieved of
an enormous weight. The commissary, whom I ques-
tioned in my turn, told me, that on the preceding
night a considerable robbery had been committed at
Saint Brice.‘ One of the suspected individuals were
clothes similar to mine, and there was a'similarity
of description. It was to this combination of circum-
stances, to this strange sport of fortune, that l was
indebted for the disagreeable visit which I received.
They'made excuses, which I accepted with a good grace,
Very happy at getting off so well ; but yet, in the fear
of some new catastrophe, I put myself the same
evening into a packet-boat, which conveyed me to
Paris, whence I started immediately for Arras.


MEMOIRS or vmoco. ll
CHAPTER XVI.
Residence at Arras—Disgnises—Tbe false Austrian—Departure
~Residence at Rouen—Arrest.
MANY reasons which may be divined, did not allow of
my proceeding at once to my paternal abode; and,
alighting at the house of one of my aunts, I learnt the
death of my father, which sad intelligence was soon
conﬁrmed by my mother, who received me with a
tenderness widely contrasting with the treatment I
had experienced during the two years of my absence.
She was extremely anxious to keep me with her; but
it was absolutely necessary that I should be constantly
concealed, and I did not leave the house for three
months. At the end of that time‘my conﬁnement
began to weary me, and I went out, sometimes under
one disguise and sometimes under another. I
thought I had not been recognised, when suddenly
a report spread through the town that I was there,
and they police began to search for me, making
constant visits to my mother, without, however, dis-
covering the place of my concealment, which was not
very large, being only ten feet long and six wide; but
I had so well contrived it, that a person, who after-
wards purchased the house, lived in it nearly four
years without suspecting the existence of this place,
and would probably never have known it had I not
revealed it to him.
Secure in my retreat, out of which I thought it
would be difﬁcult to surprise me, I soon took fresh
excursions. One day, on Shrove Tuesday, I even
carried my daring to such an extent as to appear at a
ball, in the midst of upwards of two hundred sons.
I was dressed as a marquis; and a female, wi whom
I had been on intimate terms, having recognized me,


12 MEMOle OF VIDOICQs
told another, who thought that she had a cause
of complaint against me; so that in less than a quar-
ter of an hour everybody knew under what disguise
Vidocq was concealed. The report reached the ears
of two police serjeants, Delrue and Carpentier, who
were on duty at the ball; and the former, coming 11
to me, said in a low voice that he wished to spe
with me in private; a refusal would have been dan-
gerous, and I followed him into the court, where
Delrue asked my name. I did not hesitate to give
him a false one; and proposing politely that he should
untie my mask if he doubted me. “ I do not‘ require
that,” said he, “ but I shall not object to look at you.”
“ Well, then, untie my mask, which has got entangled
with my hair.” Full of certainty, Delrue went behind
me, and at that instant I upset him with a forcible
motion of my body backwards, and with a blow of my
ﬁst I sent his satellite rolling beside him on the earth.
' Without waiting until they arose, I ﬂed with the
utmost speed in the direction of the ramparts, relying
on being able to climb over them, and get into the
country; but scarcely had I run many paces, when I
found myself in an alley which had been blocked up
at one end since I had quitted Arras.
Whilst I was thus wandering out of my way, a noise
of iron heels announced that the two serjeants were
at hand; and I soon saw them approach me, sword in
hand. I was unarmed; and seizing the large house
key, as if it had been a pistol, I presented it at
them, and compelled them to make way for me.
“ Pass quietly, Francois,” said Carpentier, with a tre-
mulous voice, “do not play any nonsense with us.”
I did not want to be told a second time, and in a few
minutes reached my retreat.
This adventure was noised about, and in spite of
the efforts which the two serjeants made to conceal
it, they were laughed at by everybody. What was
most annoying to me was, that the authorities re-‘
doubled their vigilance, so that it was almost impos-


MEMOIRS OI" VIDOCQ.
l3
siblc for me to go out. I remained thus immured for
two months, which to me seemed as many centuries.
Being no longer able to endure it, I resolved on quit-
ting Arras, and they made me up a pack of lace; and
one ﬁne night, rovided with a passport, which Blon-
del, one of my riends, had lent to me, I set out. The
description did not answer; but for want of a better,
I was compelled to put up with that; and, in fact, no
objection was made to me on my route.
I reached Paris. Whilst engaged in disposing of my
commodities, I made indirectly some steps towards
ﬁnding out if it were not possible to obtain some
reversal of my sentence. I learnt that I must, in the
ﬁrst instance, give myself up as a prisoner, but I could
never resolve on again mixing with the wretches whom
Iknew so well. It was not the conﬁnement that I
‘ dreaded; I would willingly have submitted tgﬁlave
been enclosed 'alone between four walls; and what
proves this is, that I then requested leave from the
minister to ﬁnish the term of my sentence in the
madhouse at Arras; but my application remained
unanswered.
My lace was sold, but with so little proﬁt that I
could not think of turning to this trade as a mode of
life. A travelling clerk, who liVed in the Rue Saint
Martin, in the same hotel as I did, and to whom I
partly stated my situation, proposed that I should
enter the service of a seller 0 ﬁnery, who visited the
fairs. I procured the situation, but only kept it for
ten months, as we had some disagreements which de-
termined me again to return to Arras. I was not
long in returning to my nightly excursions. In the
house of a young person to whom I paid some atten~v
tions, I frequently met the daughter of a gendarme,
and endeavoured to learn from her all that was plot-
ting against me. The girl did not know me; but as
in Arras I was the constant subject of conversation,
it was not extraordinary to hear her speak of me, and
frequently in singular terms. “ Oh,” said she to me
0


l4 mauoms or vwoco.
one day, “ we shall soon catch that vagabond ; there
is our lieutenant M. Dumortier, now commissary of
police at Abbeville who wants him too much not to
catch him soon; I will bet that he would give a day’s
pay to get hold of him.” ‘
“ If I were your lieutenant, and wanted to take
Vidocq,” replied I, “ I would contrive that he should
not escape me.”
“ You! Oh yes, on and everybody! He is always
completely armed. _ ou know they said that he ﬁred
twice at Delrue and Ca entier; and that is not all,
for he can change himsel into a bundle of hay when-
ever he likes.”
“ A bundle of bay I” cried I, surprised at the novel
endowment assigned to ine—.“ A bundle of hay!
How ‘3” - ,
“ Y_es, sir; my father pursued him one day; and at
the moment he laid his band upon his collar, he found
that he only held a handful of hay. He did not onl
say it, but all the brigade saw the bundle of hay, whi
was burnt in the'barrack-yard.” , ~ . _
I could not make out this history; but learnt after_-_
wards that the police-ofﬁcers, not being able to lay
hold of me, had given circulation to this tale amongst
the credulous citizens of Arras. With the same m0-
tive they obligingly insinuated that I was the double
of a certain loup-garou, whose wonderful appearances
froze with fear the superstitions inhabitants of the
country. Fortunately, these terrors were not shared
by some prett women, whom I had interested in my
favour; and i the demon of jealousy had not suddenly
seized on one of the number, the authorities would
not perhaps have given themselves-so much trouble
about me. In her anger she was indiscreet; and the
police, who did not clearly know what had become of
me, again learnt that I was certainly in Arras.
One evening, as, without mistrust and only armed
with a stick, I was returning through the Rue d’Amiens,
on crossing the bridge at the end of the Rue des


MEMOIRS or vmoco. l5-
Boquets, I was attacked by seven or eight individuals-
They were constables disguised; and, seizing my gar-
ments, were already assured of their prize, when,
freeing myself by a powerful jerk, I leapt the parapet,
and threw myself into the river. It was in December;
the tide was high, the current rapid, and none of
the police-men had any inclination to follow me:
they thought besides, that by waiting for me on the
bank I should not escape them; but a sewer that I
found enabled me to deceive them, and they were still
Waiting for me when I was at my mother’s house.
Every day I experienced fresh dangers, and every
day the most pressing necessity suggested new expe-
dients for my preservation. However, at length,
according to my custom, I grew weary of a liberty
which the compulsion of concealment rendered illu-
sory. Some nuns of the Rue —-— had for some
time harboured me; but I resolved on quitting their
hospitable roof, and turned OVer in my mind the means
of appearing in public without inconvenience. Some
thousands of Austrian prisoners were then in the
citadel, whence they went out to work with the
citizens, or in the neighbouring villages, and the idea
occurred to me, that the presence of these strangers
might be useful to me. As I spoke German, I entered
into conversation with one of them, and ins ired him
with suﬂ'icicnt conﬁdence to conﬁde to me is inten-
tion of escaping. This project was favourable to m
views; the prisoner was embarrassed with his Kaiserl'
uniform, and I offered to exchange it for mine; and
for some money which I gave him to boot, he was glad
to' let me have his papers also. From this moment
Iwas'an Austrian, even in the eyes of the Austrians
themselves, who, belonging to different corps, did not
‘_ know all their body.
"'Under- this new disguise, I joined a young widow,
'who had a mercery establishment in the Rue de :
she found that I had ability, and wished that _I would
'iﬂstal myself at her- house; and we soon visited the


16 manoms .or name.
fairs and markets together. It was evident that I
could not aid her, unless I could understand the
buyers, and I formed gibberish, half Teutonic, half
French, which they understood wonderfully well, and
which became so familiar to me, that I insensibly for-
got that I knew any other language. Besides, the
iilusion was so complete, that after cohabiting together
for four months, the widow did not suspect any more
than the rest of the world, that the soi-disant Kaiser-
lik was one of the friends of her childhood. How-
ever, she treated me so well, that it was impossible to
deceive her any longer; and one day I told her who I
really was, and never was woman more astonished.
But, far from its injuring me in her estimation, the
conﬁdence in some sort only made our intimacy the
closer; so much are women generally smitten by any
thing that bears the a pearance of mystery or adven-
ture! And then, are t ey not always delighted with the
acquaintance of a wicked fellow? Who, better than
m self, can know how often they are the providence
ofy fugitive galley-slaves and condemned risoners ?
Eleven months glided away, and not ing occurred
to disturb my repose. The frequency of my being in
the streets, my constant meetings with the police
ofﬁcers, who had not even paid attention to me, all
seemed to augur the duration of this tranquillit , when,
one day as we were sitting down to dinner in t e back
shop, the faces of three gendarmes were visible through
a glass door. I was just helping the soup; the spoon
fell from my hands; but recovering soon from the
stupor into which this unlooked-for visit had thrown
me, I darted towards the door, which I bolted, and
then jumping out of the window, I got into a. loft,
whence I gained the roof of the next house, and run~
ning down the staircase which led into the street, I
found, on reaching the door, two gendarmes. ‘Fortu-
nately, they were but novices, who did not know me:
“ Go up,” said I to them, “ the brigadier has got him,
but he resists; go up, and lend your aid, whilst I run


18 MEMOIRS or vrnocq.
tidings of it, and then I was in despair; pressing busi-
, ness called me to Havre, and I wanted to start that
very evening, but what was to be done without a pass-
port? ‘
“ Is it only that F” said a clerk. “ With the register
of the with you can get a duplicate passport. This
was what I needed; the name of Blondel was ke t
but this time, at least my description was correcty
given. To complete the eﬁ‘ect of my stratagem, not
only did I set out for Havre, but I advertised my pocket-
book by little bills stuck about, although it had only
passed from m hands to that of my companion.
By means 0 this little bit of good management, my
, reinstatement was complete; and, provided with ﬁt-
ting credentials, I had only to lead an honest life, and
I actually began to think of it; and took, in Rue Mor-
tainville, a repository for mercery and bonnets, in
which we did so well, that my mother, whom I had
informed secretly of my success, determined on coming
to join us. For a year I was really happy, my business
increased, my connexions extended, my credit was
established, and more than one banking-house in
Rouen may perhaps remember when the signature
of Blondel was well respected in the place; At length,
after so many storms, I thought I had reached port;
when an incident, which I had never contemplated, in-
volved me in a fresh series of vicissitudes. The lady
mercer with whom I lived, this woman who had given
me the strongest proofs of devotion and love, began to
burn with other ﬁres than those which I had kindled
in her heart. I was desirous of persuading myself
that she was not unfaithful, but the fault was so ﬂa-
grant that the oﬂ‘ender had not even the resource of
those well-supported' denials which enable the conve-
nient husband to persuade himself that he is not
wronged. At another time, I would not have sub-
mitted to such an aﬁ‘ront without putting myself into
a transport of rage, but how time had changed me!
Witness of my misfortune, I coldly signiﬁed my deter-


neurons or vrnoco. 19
mination to separate; prayers, supplications, nothing
could bend me; Iwas immutable. I might have par-
doned her, it is true, if only out of gratitude ; but who
'Would convince me that she who had befriended me
would break 05' with my rival ? And might I not have
cause to fear, that, in a moment of tenderness, she
would compromise my safety by some disclosure?
We then divided our stock of goods, and my compa~
nion quitting me, I never heard of her after.
' Disgusted with my residence at Rouen, through this
adventure, I took to my old trade of travelling mer-
chant; my journies comprised the circuit of Nantes,
Saint Germain, and Versailles, where, in a short time,
I formed an excellent connexion; my proﬁts became
suﬁiciently considerable to allow of my renting at Ver-
sailles, in the Rue de la Fontaine, a warehouse. with a
small apartment, which my mother inhabited during
my journies. My'conduct was then free from any
stigma ; I was generally esteemed in the circle whic
I had formed; and again I hoped that I had overcome
the fatality which so often cast me into the path of
dishonour, 'whence all my eﬂ'orts were now used to
ﬂee myself; when, denounced by an early friend, who
thus revenged himself for some disagreement we had
once had together, 1 Was arrested on my return from
the fair of Nantes. Although I obstinately asserted
that l was not Vidocq, but Blondel, as my passport
proved, I was sent to St Denis, whence l was to be
sent to Douai. By the extraordinary care taken to
prevent my escape, I perceived that I was recom_
mended; and a glance which I threw over the book
of the gendarmerie, revealed to me a precaution of a
very particular nature. I was thus designated—
“ SPECIAL SURVEILLANCE.
“ Vmoco. (Eugene Francois), condemned to death for
non-appearance. This man is exceedingly enter-
prising and dangerous." '
Thus, to keep the vigilance of my guards on the
alert, Iwas described as a great criminal. I set out


20 mamoms or vinoco.
to St Denis in a car, pinioned, so that I could not
move, and to Louvres the escort never took eyes 06'
me. These arrangements announced the rigours in
store for me, and I roused all the energy that had
already so often procured me my liberty.
We had been put into the clock-house of Louvres,
now transformed into a prison, where they brought me
two mattresses, a counterpane, and sheets, which, cut
and fastened together, would help us to descend into
the church-yard. A bar was cut with the knives of
three deserters conﬁned with us, and at two o’clock in
the morning I made the ﬁrst attempt, and having
reached the extremity of the rope, I perceived that it
Was nearly ﬁfteen feet from the ground; hesitation
availed nought, and I let go, but, as in my fall at the
ramparts at Lille, I sprained my left leg so severely,
that I could scarcely walk; however, I attempted to
climb the walls of the church d, when I heard the
key turn quietly in the lock. t was the jailor and his
dog, who had noses alike for following a scent: the
jailor, at ﬁrst, passed beneath the cord without seeing
it ; and the mastiﬂ’ near a ditch in which I lay, without '
smelling me. Having gone the round, the retired,
and I thought that my companions would ollow my
example, but'no one appearing, I climbed the wall and
got into the plain. The pain of my foot became more
and more acute, but I bore the pain, and courage giving
me strength, I made considerable progress. I had
nearly advanced a quarter of a league, when Isuddenly
heard the sound of the tocsin. It was in the middle of
May. At the earliest dawn, I saw several armed ea-
sants’ go out of their dwellings and spread themse ves
over the plains. They were probably ignorant of what
was the cause of disturbance, but In sore leg was a
token that might make me suspecte . My face was
unknown: in‘ all probability, the ﬁrst persons who met
me would secure my person. Had I been in full pos-
session of my limbs, I could have distanced all pur-
suit; I must yield at present; and scarcely had I got
on two hundred paces, when, overtaken by the gen-


MEMOIRS or v! nocq. 2]"
darmes who Were scouring the country, I was seized
and conveyed back to the cursed clock-house.
The unpropitious result of this attempt did not dis-
courage me. At Bapaume we were placed in the
citadel, an old police station, guarded by a detach-
ment of conscripts of the 30th regiment of the line;
one sentinel only was placed over us, and he was under
the window, and near enough for me to enter into con-
versation with him, which I did. The soldier, to whom
I addressed myself, appeared a good fellow enough,
and I thought I could easily bribe him. I offered him
ﬁfty francs, to let us escape whilst he was on guard.
He refused at ﬁrst; but, by the tone of his voice,'and
by a certain twinkling of his eyes, I thought I saw his
impatience to get such a sum, only that he was afraid
of consequences. To encourage him, I increased the
dose, and showed him three louis, when he said he
would aid us; at the same time addin , that his round
would be from midnight till two o’clodit. Having made
our arrangements, I commenced o erations; the wall
was pierced so as to allow us a ree egress, and we
only waited until the opportunity should arrive. At
length, midnight struck; the soldier announced to me
that he was there, and I gave him the three louis, and-
made the necessary dispositions. When all was ready;
I called out. “ Is it time?” I said to the sentinel,
“ Yes, make haste ;” he answered, after a triﬂing
hesitation. I thought it singular that he did not
answer instantl , and imagining that his conduct was
somewhat dubious, I listened. He seemed to be
marching; and, by the moonlight, I also perceived the
shadow of several men in the ditch, and had no longer
any doubt but that we were betrayed. However, as I
might have been mistaken, to make quite sure, I took
some straw, which I stuffed into some clothes, and put
it at the aperture which we had made; and at the same
instant, a sabre blow that would have cleft an anvil,
informed me that I had well escaped, and conﬁrmed
1


2‘2 narrows or vrnocq.
me more and more in the opinion, that we must not
_ always trust to conscripts. T e prison was soon ﬁlled-
with gendarmes, who drew u a statement of facts:
they examined us, wishing to now all, and I declared
that I had given the conscript three louis, which he
denied; he was examined, and on their being found in
his shoes, he was put in the black-hole.
As for us, we were threatened most menacingly;
but as the could not punish us, they contented them-
selves wit doubling the guard. There was now no
method of escape, without one of those opportunities
for which I watched incessantly, and which presented
itself earlier than I expected“ The next day was the
day' of _ our departure, and we had descended into the
barrack-yard, which was in great confusion from the
arrival of a fresh number of prisoners and a detach-
ment of conscripts from Ardennes, who were goin to
the camp at Boulogne. The adjutants were squabb ‘ g
with the gendarmes about room for forming three di-
visions, and making the muster-call. While each were
counting their men, I glided cautiously in at the tail of
a baggage-waggon just leaving the court, and thus
passed through the city, motionless, and in as small a
compass as possible, to elude detection. 'Once beyond
the ramparts, I had only to steal away; and I seized the
opportunity whilst the wsggoner, thirsty, as these
peo le always are, had gone into an ale-house to're-
fres himself; and whilst his horses awaited him on
the road, I lightened his conveyance of a load, of
which he was not aware. I slept in a ﬁeld of maize,
and when night arrived, directed my steps eastward.


nemoms or vinocq. 23
CHAPTER XVII.
The camp at Boulogne-The rencentre—The recruiters of the
ancien regime—M. BelleRose.
I TRAVELLED through Picardy towards Boulogne. At
this period, Napoleon had abandoned his intention of
a descent on England, and was about to make war
against Austria with his vast army, but had left many
battalions'on the shores of the British channel. There
were in the two camps, that on the left and that on
the right, depots of almost every corps, and soldiers of
every nation in Europe; Italians, Germans, Piedmon-
tese, Dutch, Swiss, and even Irish.
The uniforms were various, and this variety might
bev useful in concealing me; but I thought that it
would be bad policy to disguise myself by only bor-
rowing a military garb. I thought for a moment of
becoming actually a soldier, but then to enter a regi-
ment it would haVe been necessary to have certain
papers, which I had not. I then gave up the intention,
and yet my abode at ‘Boulogne was dangerous, until I
should decide on something.
One day that I was more embarrassed and more
unquiet than usual, I met on the walks a sexjeant of
marine-artillery, whom I had met at Paris, and who
was, as well as myself, a native of Arras; but havin
embarked when very young in a ship of war, he ha
passed the greater portion of his life in the colonies,
and on his return to his native country had learnt
nothing of my doings. He only looked on me as a
bon vivant; and a ublic-house row, in which I
energetically espousedJ his cause, had given him a high
opiruon of my courage. ,
“ What, is it you,” said he, “ Roger Bontemps';
and what are you doing at Boulogne ?” “ What am I


24 nanorns or vrnocq.
doing! why, seeking employment in the train of the
army.” “ Oh, you want employment; do you know
that it is devilish difﬁcult to get a berth now? But, if
you will listen to my advice—though this is not the
place for such conversation; let us go to Galand’s."
We then went to a sort of suttler’s booth, which
was modestly stationed in one of the angles of the
street. “ Ah! good day, Parisian,” said the serjeant
to the host. “ Good day, father Dufailli—What will
you have this morning ?—a dram ?—mixed or plain.”
“ Five-and-twenty gods! papa Galand, do you take us
for blackguards? It is the best pullet and an -
excellent wine that we want, do you hear ?” en
addressing me,—“ Is it not true, old boy, that the
friends of our friends are our friends ‘P That you must
agree to ;” and, taking in hand, he led me into a
small room, where M. G and admitted his favorite
customers.
I was very hungry, and saw with lively satisfaction
the preparations for a repast, of which I was to par-
take. A waiting~maid, from twenty-ﬁve to thirty years,
well made, and with a face' and good humour which
such girls have, who can constitute the felicity of a
whole regiment, brought in the dishes. She was a
native of Liege; lively, agreeable, chattering her patois,
and uttering every moment such low witticisms as ex-
cited greatly the mirth of the serjeant, who was de-
lighted with her. “ She is the sister-in-law of our
host,” said he to me ; “ what cat-hequ she has; she
is as plump as a ball, and as round as a buoy—a dainty
lass, upon my faith.” At the same time, Dufailli, pull-
ing her about, began to play all sorts of naval tricks ;
sometimes drawing her on his knees, sometimes apply-
ing to her shining cheeks one of those hearty smacks
which bespeaks more love than discretion. .
I confess I was annoyed at this coquetry, which de-
layed our meal, when mademoiselle Jeannette (so was
the nymph called), having abruptly broken from the


MEMOIRS or vrnoco. 25
arms of my Amphitryon, returned with part of a devil-
,led turkey and two bottles, which she placed before
us.
“ well done,” said the seijeant ; “ here is wherewithal
to moisten our food, and increase the juices. I shall
play my part. Aﬁer that we shall see; for here, my
boy, it is all as I wish. I have only to make a signal.
Is it not so, Jeannette? Yes, my comrade,” con-
tinued he, “ I am master here.”
I congratulated him on so much good fortune, and
we began to eat and drink with might and main. It
was long since I had been at such a festival, and I
played my part manfully. Abundance of bottles were
emptied ; and we were about, I believe, to uncork the
seventh, when the serjeant went out, and soon returned,
bringing with him two new guests, a forager and a ser-
jeant-major, “ Five and twenty gods ! I like good
fellowship,” cried Dufailli. “By Jove, I have made
two recruits. I know how to go recruiting; ask
these gentlemen."
“ Oh yes,” said the forager, “he is the cock, father
Dufailli, to invent plots to seduce conscripts; when I
think of them, I remember my own adventure.”—“Ah
you still remember that l”—“ Yes, es, my old lad, I
remember it, and the major also, w en you were deep
enough to enlist him as secretary to the regiment."
“ Well ! has he not done well? A th0usand thunders!
Is it not better to be the ﬁrst accountable man in an
artillery company then sit scratching away on paper in
a study? What say you, forager ?”—“ I agree with
you; but”—“But, but, you will tell me perhaps, you,
that you were happier, when with your old dog of a
master, your were obliged to lay hold of the watering- ,
pot, and make yourself dripping wet with throwing
ﬂ'Qgs’ spawn over your tuli s. We were going to em-
bark at Brest, on board ‘1’ nvincible;’ and you would
only go out as a ﬂower-gardener.—Well then,” Stud
1, “go as ﬂower-gardener; the captain likes ﬂowers;
1)
C
i


26 MEMOIRS OF VIDOCQ.
every man to his taste, but alSo every man to his trade;
and I carried on mine. I think i see you now; you
were rather disappointed when, instead of employing
yourself in cultivating marine plants, as you expected,
you were sent to man the shrouds of a thirty-six: and
when you were ordered to ﬁre a bomb-shell! that was
a nosegay for you ! But no more of that ;4 and let us
drink a measure of wine. Come, lads, here’s to our
~ comrades.” ‘ ‘ >
' I ﬁlled all the glasses, and the seijeant continued—
“ You see that I am not wanted now, therefore let us
make of all of us but a pair of friends. This is easily
done; I have caught_these nicely in my snare, but that
is nothing; we recruiters of the marines are but fools
to the recruiters of earlier days; you are still but green-
horns—Ah, you never knew Belle-Rose; he was the
lad for taking in the knowing ones ! Such as I am, I
was not a thorough noodle, and yet he twisted me
completely round his ﬁnger. I think I - have already
told you the tale; but at all events I will give it you
again for the general good.
“ Under the ancient regime, do you see, we had co-
lonies, the isle of France, Bourbon, Martinique, Gua-
daloupe, Senegal, Guyana, Louisiana, St Domingo &c.;
now they are ours no longer; we have only the isle
of Oleron left; it is little more than nothing; or, as
somebody said, it is a foot of earth whilst we wait for
the rest. The descent would have restored us all the
others; but bah, the descent—we must no longer think
of that, that is settled; the ﬂotilla will rot in the port,
and they will make ﬁre-wood of the hulls. But I am
getting out my latitude, steering seaward, instead of
landward; now then for Belle-Rose! for I believe it
.was of Belle-Rose that I was speaking. -- I
“As I told you, he was a spark who had cut his
wisdom-teeth, and in his time oung fellows .were
sot of the same kidney with those of the present
ay. _


MEMOIRS or v1noco. 27
“ I had left Arras at fourteen, and been at Pa-
ris for six months, apprentice to a gunsmith, when,
one morning, my master desired me to carry to the co-
lonel of the carabineers, who lived in the Place Royale,
a pair of pistols which he had been repairing. I soon
performed this commission, and unfortunately these
cursed pistols should return eighteen francs to the
shop, and the colonel counted out the money, adding
a triﬂe for myself. So far, so good; but, 10 and be-
hold, in crossing the Rue du Pelican I heard somebody
knock at a window; I raised my eyes, supposing that I
should see some acquaintance, when what should I see
but a madame de Pompadour, who, with all her charms
displayed, was tapping at a window, and who, by an
inclination of her head, accompanied wit“. a charming
smile, invited me to go up to her. She might have
been called a picture moving in its frame. A magniﬁ-
cent neck, a skin white as snow, a wide chest, and
above all a delightful countenance, combined to enﬂame
me. I went up the stairs four at a time, and on intro-
ducing-myself to my princess, I found her a divinity.
‘Approach, my little one,’ said she to me, tapping my
cheek lightly; ‘you are going to make me a little pre-
sem, are you not ? ’
“ I put my trembling hand into my pocket, and tak-
in out the piece of money given me b the colonel-
‘ \lgVell, my child,’ continued she, ‘ I t ink you are a
Picardy lad, and I am your country-woman—Oh you
wish to treat your townswoman to a glass of wine.’
“ The request was urged so sweetly, that I had no
power'of denial left, and the eighteen francs of the co~
lonel were trenched upon. One glass produced another,
that generated a third, which begot a fourth, and so
on, until I was drunk with wine and delight. Night
arrived, and I know not how, but I awoke in the
street on a heap of stones at the gate of the hotel des
Fermes.
“ My surprise was great on looking about me, and


28 memoms or vmocq.
still more when on looking in my purse, the birds were
ﬂown. ’
“ How could I return to my master’s ? Where sleep?
I determined to walk about till day-break, I had only
to kill time, or rather torment myself about the conse‘
uences of a ﬁrst fault. I turned mechanically towards
the market of the Innocents. Mind how you trust
your country-women l said I to myself; I am nicely
ﬂeecedl If I had 'only some money left—-
i“ I confess that at this moment some droll ideas cros-
sed my brain. I had often seen pasted up on the walls
of Paris—“ Pocket-book Lost,” with one thousand, two
thousand or even three thousand francs reward for the
person who would bring it back. I thought I might
ﬁnd one of these, and lookin carefully about me on‘
the pavement, and walking ' e a man who is looking
for something, I was seriously intent on the probabi-
lity of ﬁnding so good a windfall, when I was aroused
from my reverie by a blow of a ﬁst, which encountered
my back. ‘ What! my boy, you out so early this
morning ?’-—‘ Ah! is it you, Fanfan; and by, what
chance in this quarter at this hour?’
“ Fanfan 'was a pastry-cook’s apprentice, whom I"
knew, and in a moment he told me that he had left
the oven for the last'six weeks; that he had a mistress
who ﬁtted him out; that, for a short time, he was
from home, because the intimate friend of his mistress
had chosen to sleep with her. ‘ As for the rest,’ said
he, ‘ I wink at it. -If I pass a night at. the Sourciére,
I return to my haunt next morning, and recover my-
self during the day. Fanfan the pastry-cook appeared
to me a keen fellow; and thinking that he might de-
vise some plan to extricate me from my embarrass-
ment, I told him the whole of it.
“ ‘Is that all ?’ said he. ‘ Come to me at mid-day at
the public-house at the Barriere des Sergents; and I
may give you some useful counsel : under any circum-
- stances we’ll dine together.’ -


namorns orv VIDOCQ. 29
‘ “ I was punctual at the rendezvous, and Fanfan did
not keep me waiting; he was there before me, and on
my entrance, I was led into a small room, where I found
him seated before a tub of oysters, with a female on
each side of him, one of whom, on perceiving me, burst
out into a loud ﬁt of laughter. ‘Ah, what is that for ‘3’
said Fanfan. ‘ Oh heaven, it is my towns-man.’—‘ It is
my towns-woman,’ said I confused. ‘ Yes, my little
one, it is your towns-woman.’ I was going to com-
plain of the trick she had served me on the previous
evening, but embracing Fanfan, whom she called her pet,
she laughed more heartily than before, and I saw that
the best thing I could do was to join the laugh like a
, jolly fellow. -
“ ‘ Well,’ said Fanfan, pouring out a glass of white
wine, and helping me to a dozen oysters, ‘you see,
you must never despair of Providence. We have some
pigs’-feet on the gridiron, do you like pigs’sfeet ?’ And
before I could answer his question, they were put on
the table. The appetite I displayed was so much in
the aﬂirmative, that Fanfan had no further occasion
to ask my Opinion of them. The Chablis soon put me
in spirits, and I forgot the disagreeables which had
given me such cause of dreading my master; and, as
the companion of my towns-woman had cast a gracious
eye on me, I did not hesitate to make desperate love
to her. By the honour of Dufailli 1 she was soon won,
and gave me her hand.
“ ‘ You really love me then,’ said Fanchette—so
was my damsel named :—‘ Love you ‘P’ said I. ‘ Why,
if you like we will be married.’ ‘ That is right,’ said
Fanfan. ‘ Marry; and to commence, I will wed you at
once. I marry you, my boy; do you understand?
so, embrace ;’ and at the same time, he united our
hands and drew our faces towards each other. ‘ Poor
child,’ said Fanchette, giving me a second 'kiss with-
out the aid of my friend. ‘Be easy; I will instruct
you.’
“ I was in paradise, and spent a delightful day. In
D 2


30 memole or vrnoco;
the evening I went to bed with Fanchette, and we were
mutually leased with each other.
“ My e ucation was soon eri'ected. Fanchette was
delighted at having met wit a pupil who proﬁted so
well from her instructions, and recompensed me gene-
rousl . ~
“it this period the Notables had just assembled,
and they were good pigeons. Fanchette plucked them,
and we shared the spoil. Each day we banquetted
without limit. These Notables supplied our throats as
well as exerting their ownl And I had always a well~
supplied purse. - a
“ Fanchette and I denied ourselves nothing; but
how brief are the moments of happinessl Oh, how
brief 1
“ Scarcely had a month of this charming life elaps.
ed, when Fanchette and my towns-woman were ap-
rehended and taken to prison. What had they done?
Ydo not know, but evil tongues said something about
the abstraction of a repeating-watch. I, who had
no particular wish to make acquaintance with the
lieutenant-general of police, thought it best to make
as few enquiries _as possible. . ,
“ This arrest was a blow which we had not looked
for. Fanfan and I were overwhelmed at it. Fanchette
was such a dear girl ! and then how was I to carry on
the war? My kettle was upset; farewell oysters, fare-
well chablis, farewell hours of love! I should have
stuck to my anvil; and Fanfan reproached himself for
having quitted his patty-pans.
‘ “We were walking sorrowfully on the Quai de la
Ferraille, when we were suddenly aroused by a sound
of military music, two clarionets, a large drum and
cymbals. The crowd had gathered round this band,
stationed in a car, above which ﬂoated colours and
plumes of all colours. I think they were playing the air
‘ Oh peut on etre mieux qu’au sein de sa famille?’
(Where can we ﬁnd joys equal to those at home ?) When
the musicians had ﬁnished, the drums beat a roll, and


mamoms or VIDOCQ- 31
a gentleman covered with gold lace, got up and spoke,
showing a large representation of a soldier in full uni-
form. ‘ By the authority of his majesty,’ said he,
‘ Iv am here to explain to the subjects of the king of
France the advantages which he oﬂ‘ers in admitting
them to his colonies. Young men who are round me,
you must have heard of the land of Cocagne, and it.is
to India that we must go to ﬁnd this fortunate coun-
try. There We must go, if we Would live in clover.’
“ ‘Would you have gold, pearls, or diamonds? the
roads are paved with them; you have only to stoop
and pick them up, and not even that, for the savages
will collect them for you.
“ ‘Do you love women? There they are for all
tastes; negresses, who belong to all the world; then
creoles, white as you or I, and who dote to madness
on white men, which is natural enough in a country
where the men are all black; and note particularly
that every one of them is as rich as Croesus; which,
between ourselves, is very advantageous in marriage.
“ ‘Do you love wine? It is like the women, of all
sorts; Malaga, Bourdeaux, Champagne, &c. For in-
stance,-you must not often expect to meet with Bur-
gundy, I will not deceive you, it will not bear sea car-
riage; but ask for any other that is made throughout
the world, at sixpence a bottle, and believe me, you
will ﬁnd them but too_happy to procure it for you.
Yes, gentlemen, for sixpence; and that cannot sur-
prise you, when you learn that sometimes one, two,
or three hundred ships, loaded with wines, arrive at
the same time in one single harbour. Picture to your-
self the embarrassment of the captains; in haste to
return, they quickly unload, and announce that they
shall esteem it a favour from any who will empty the
casks gratis. I
“ ‘ That is not all. Do not you think it would be a.
sweet life always to have sugar in plenty? I have not
mentioned coffee, lemons, megranates, oranges, pine-
apples, and the millions 0 delicious fruits which grow


32 rumours or vxnocQ.
here as wild as they did in Paradise; I say nothing of
the liqueurs of these islands, which are so much in
esteem, and which are so agreeable, that, saving our
presence, they mayI be called the emanations o the
good God and the oly angels.
“ ‘ If I were addressing women or children, I might
expatiate on all these delicacies, but I am speaking to
men.
“ ‘ Sons of family, I am not ignorant of the eﬂ'orts
usually made by parents to restrain young people from
the path which must lead to fortune; but be more
rational than the papss, and particularly the mammas.
“ ‘Do not listen to them, when they tell you that
the savages eat the Europeans with only a little salt:
that was all very well in the days of Christopher Co-
lumbus and Robinson Crusoe.
“ ‘ Do not listen to them, when they endeavour to
terrif you about the yellow fever. The yellow fever?
Gentlemen, if it was as terrible as people say, there
would be nothing but hospitals in the country, and
'God knows that there is not a single one.
“ ‘ Doubtless they will frighten you about the cli-
mate, I am too frank not to confess it; the climate is
warm, but nature is so prodigal in giving refreshments,
that, in truth, we must attend to the thing, or we
should not perceive it.
“ ‘ They will alarm you about the sting of the mus-
quitoes, and the bite of rattle-snakes. But have you
not slaves always about you, expressly to drive away
the former; and does not the noise of the latter sum-
ciently inform you of its approach?
“ ‘ They will talk to you of shipwrecks. Know that
I have crossed the sea ﬁfty-seven times; that I have
again' and again crossed the line; that I look on going
from one pole to the other, like drinking a glass
of water; and although on the ocean, there is
neither wooden sledges nor nurses, I think myself
more secure on board a seventy-four, than in the in-
side of the coach to Auxerre, or on the conveyance


momma: or VIDOCQ- 33
\‘
ll'om Paris to St Cloud. That must be enough to
dissipate all fears. I might add a variety of delights;
Imight talk of the chase, sporting, ﬁshing; imagine to
yourself forests, where the game is so tame that it
never thinks of running away, and so timid that if you
only call to it, it falls down; imagine rivers and lakes,
where ﬁsh are so abundant that they choke the waters.
This is all very wonderful, but perfectly true»
“ ‘ I had nearly forgotten to talk to you of horses.
Horses, gentlemen; you cannot take a step without
meeting with thousands of them ; you might call them
flocks of sheep, only that they are larger; are you
fond of them? do you like riding? Only take a rope
in your packet, which should be rather long, and you
must make a running knot in it; you seize the mo-
ment when the animals are grazing, and afraid of
nothing, you then approach quietly, and make your
choice; and when your choice is made, you throw the
cord, the horse is your’s, you have only to back him
and lead him where you please and think proper; for,
remember, that here everygman is uncontrolled in his
actions.
“ ‘ Yes, gentlemen, I repeat it, it is all true, very true;
the proof is, that the king of France, his majesty Louis
XVI, who can almost hear me in his palace, authorizes
me on his part to offer you these advantages. Should
I dare to lie so near to him ? '
“ ‘ The king desires to clothe you, the king wishes to
support you, he wishes to make you rich men; in re-
turn, he asks but little from you; no labour, and good
pay; good nourishment; to rise up and lie down at
pleasure ; exercise once a month, at the parade of St
Louis; this, for I will conceal nothing, cannot be dis-
pensed with, unless you get leave, which is never re-
fused. These obligations done, your time is your own.
What more can you desire? a‘good engagement? you
shall have it: but hasten, I advise you, tomorrow will
perhaps be too late, the ships are about to start, and


34 mmroms or vrnoco.
only wait for a fair wind to set sail. Hasten, then,
near to Paris; hasten. If, perchance, you should
grow tired of doing well, you shall have dismissal
when you please; a bark is always in port, ready to
conduct to Europe those who are home sick; it is "ex-
pressly used for that purpose. Let those who desire
to have further particulars, come to me; I have no
occasion to tell my name; I am very well known; my
residence is only a few paces distant, at the ﬁrst lamp,
at the house of a wine-merchant. Ask for M. Belle-
Rose.’ _
“ My situation made me attentive to this harangue,
which I have remembered, although it is twenty years
since I heard it, and 1 do not think that I forget a
single word.
“ It made no less impression on Fanfan, and we
were consulting together, when a shabby-looking fel-
low, whom we had not at all oﬁ‘ended, gave Fanfan a
blow, which knocked his hat oﬁi ‘ I will teach you,’
‘ said he, ‘ you puppy, to grin at me.’ Fanfan was be-
wildered by t e blow, and I defended him, when the
blackguard raised his hand against me; we were soon
surrounded, and the quarrel was growing warm, and
the people ﬂocked round, trying who should see most
of it. Suddenly, some one separated the crowd; it
was M. Belle-Rose. ‘ What is all this?’ said he; and
looking at Fanfan, who was crying, ‘ I think this gen-
tleman has been struck—that cannot be put up With;
but the gentleman is brave, and that will settle the
business.’ Fanfan was desirous of showing that he
had done nothing wrong, and then that he had not
been struck. ‘ It is all the same, my friend,’ replied
Belle-Rose; ‘it cannot be settled that wa .’ ‘ Cer-
tainly,’ said the bully, ‘it cannot be deci ed in this
way. The gentleman insulted me, and shall give me
satisfaction; one of us must fall.’
“ ‘ Well, well, be it so; he will give you satisfaction,’
replied Belle-Rose: ‘I will answer for these gentle-


MEMOIRS or VIDOCQ. . 35
men; what is your hour ?’—‘ Your’s.’—‘ Five in the
morning, behind the bishop’s palace ;—I will bring
weapons.’ .
“ Upon this, the blackguard retired; and Belle-Rose
striking Fanfan on the stomach, heard some pieces chink
in the waistcoat pocket, where he carried his money,
the last relics of our former splendour. ‘ R‘eally, my
lad, I take an interest in you,’ said he; ‘you must
come with me; our friend here must go \with us :’ and
so saying, he gave me a poke, similar to that he had
bestowed on Fanfan.
“ M. Belle-Rose conducted us into the Rue de la
Jniverie, to a wine-merchant’s, where he made us enter.
‘ I will not enter with you,’ said he to us; ‘ a man like
me must preserve decorum: I am going to ull oﬁ‘ my
uniform, and will join you in a minute. As for a red
seal and three glasses.’ He leﬁ us. ‘ A red seal,’
said be, turning round; ‘ mind the red seal.’
“ We eiiecuted the orders of M. Belle-Rose, .who
was not long in returning, and whom we received cap-
in-hand. ‘ Ah! my boys,’ said he, ‘ put on your hats;
no ceremonies between us; I am going to sit down:
where is my glass? the ﬁrst come, the ﬁrst served.
(He drank it down at a gulp.) I am devilish thirsty,
and the dust sticks in my throat.’
“ M. Belle-Rose poured out a second, whilst he
spoke, and then wiping his forehead with a hand-
kerchief, he leant his two elbows on the table, and
assumed a mysterious air, which began to disquiet us.
“ ‘ Ah! my young friends, it is tomorrow that we
are to have the brush. Do you know,’ said he to
Fanfan, ‘ that you have a devil to meet ?—one of the
best fencers in France: he pinked St George.’ ‘ He
pinked 'St George,’ repeated Fanfan, looking most
piteously at me. ‘Ahl indeed, he pinked St George;
but that is not all,—he has a most unlucky hand.’
‘ And so have I, ’ said Fanfan.‘ What you, too ?’—‘ By
Jove, I think a day never passed, when I was at my
master’s, that I did not break something, if only a


36 mnroms or vrnoco.' .
plate or two.’ ‘ Oh, you misunderstand 'me, my bo *,'
said Belle-Rose; ‘ we say that a man has an unlu y
hand, when he always kills his man‘ when he ﬁghts.’ .
“ The explanation was but too clear. Fanfan trem-
bled in every limb, the sweat ran down his forehead
in large drops, white and blue clouds pervaded the red
cheeks of the pastrycook’s apprentice, his face length-
ened, his heart beat, and he would have suffocated,
had he not heaved an enormous sigh. ,
- “ ‘Bravo l ’ cried Belle-Rose, taking his hand in his
own, ‘I like men who have no fear. You are not
afraid.’ Then, striking the table, ‘Waiter, another
bottle of the same; mind you, my friend, here pays.
Get up a little, my friend; move yourself—stir about
-—-stretch out your arm—circulate your blood—thrust
out: that’s it,--splendid! admirable! superbl’ And
during this time Belle-Rose emptied his glass. ‘ On
the honour of Belle-Rose I could make a fencer of
you. Do you know you have an excellent idea of it?
You would do well at it ;- there are more than four of '
our matters not so well made for it as you. What a
pity you were never taught; but nothing is impossible,
you have frequented the schools ?'—-‘ Oh, I swear
not,l replied Fanfan. ‘ Come, confess that you ﬁght
well.’—‘No, not at all.’—‘No modesty; why cou- '
ceal your talent that wa , I can easily perceive it.’-—-
‘I protest to you,‘ said , ‘that he never handled a
foil in his lithiw‘ Since you attest it, sir, I must
believe; but, ah l you are two deep fellows; you must
not teach old apes how to grin; tell me the truth, and
do not fear that I would betray you :- am not I your
friend ?~ If you have no conﬁdenceiume, I may as
well go. Farewell, gentlemen,’ continued Belle-
Rose, with a provoked air, going towards the door,
as if about to depart. ‘
“ ‘ Oh, M. Belle-Rose, do not forsake us,’ cried
Fanfan. ‘ Rather ask my friend if I have daceived you:
I am a pastrycook by trade, and I cannot help my fate.
I have handled the rollingpin, but—~‘ .


mmroms or vwocq. 37
“ ‘ I saw you had handled something,’ said Belle-
Rose. ‘1 like sincerity, such sincerity as yours; it
is the chief of military virtues; with that we may go
to any extent. I am sure you would make an ad-
mirable soldier. But that is not our present business.
Waiter, a bottle of wine. Since you tell me you
never did ﬁght, I will believe nothing again—(after a
moment’s silence)—Never mind, my delight is to
confer happiness on young people. 'I will teach you
a thrust—a single thrust. (Fanfan stared.) You
must promise me not to show it to anybody.’—-‘I
swear it,’ said Fanfan. ‘ Well, you will be the ﬁrst
to whom I ever showed it. I must love you! It is a
thrust une ualled; one which I kept only to myself.
Never mind, I will initiate you at daylight tomorrow!
“ From this moment Fanfan appeared less alarmed,
and overpowered M. Belle-Rose with thanks. We
drank a few more glasses, during a multitude of pro-
testations on one side and gratitude on the other; and
then as it was growing late, M. Belle-Rose took leave
of us like a man who knew the world. Before he left
us he showed us a place where we could sleep. ‘ Say
that you come from me,’ said he, ‘ at Griﬁ‘on's, in the
Rue de la Mortellerie; sleep in peace, and you shall
ﬁnd all go well.‘ Fanfan paid the bill, and then
Belle-Rose said, ‘ Good night, tomorrow I shall come
and wake you.’ '
“ We went to Griﬁ‘on’s, where we procured beds.
Fanfan could not close an eye, and was perhaps
impatient to learn the thrust which M. Belle-Rose
had promised to teach him; or he might be frightened;
perhaps he was.
“ At the ﬁrst peep of day the key turned in the
dock, and some one entered. It was Belle-Rose.
‘Come, b0 s; what, still asleep? Hear the muster!
call, my la s,’ cried he. In a moment we jumped up.
When we were ready, he went out a moment with
Fanfan, and they soon afterwards returned. ‘ Let us
go,’ said Belle-Rose: ‘mind, no nonsense; you have
VOL. II. B


38 MEMOIRS or vmoco.
nothing to do but give the twisting thrust, and he will
pink himself.’
“,In spite of his lesson, Fanfan was not quite tran-
quil; and having reached the ground, he was more
dead than alive. The adversary and his second had
arrived alread . ‘Here we are,’ said Belle-Rose,
taking the fods which he had given to me; and
breaking off the buttons, he measured the blades.
‘ Neither of them is six inches longer than the other.
Come, take this,’ said he to M. Fanfan, giving him
one of the foils.
“ Fanfan hesitated; and on the second offer, seized
_ the handle so clumsily that he let it fall. ‘ That is
nothing,’ said Belle-Rose, picking it up, and putting
it in Fanfan’s hand: he then placed him opposite his
adversary. ‘Mind, guard! We shall see who will
tickle his man.’
“ ‘ One moment,’ saidtlie second of the opponent;
‘ I have a question to ask ﬁrst, sir,’ said he, addressing
Fanfan, who could scarcely sup ort himself, ‘ are you
either master or rovost?’—‘ lat do you say,’ re-
plied Fanfan, wit the voice of a man half dead.
‘According to the laws of duelling,’ responded the
second, ‘ my duty compels me to summon you to
declare on your honour, are you master or provost?’
Fanfan was silent, and looked at Belle-Rose as if to
ask him what he should say. ‘ Speak, sir," said the
second to Fanfan. ‘I am—I am—I am only an ap.
prentice,’ stammered Fanfan. ‘ Apprentice means
amateur,’ added Belle-Rose. ‘ In this case,’ continued
the second, ‘the gentleman amateur must undress;
for our business is with his skin.’—‘ That is just,’
said Belle-Rose, ‘I did not think of that; he will
undress himself: quick, quick, M. Fanfan, off with
coat and shirt.’ ‘
> “ Fanfan cut a scurVy ﬁgure; the sleeves of his
doublet were very tight, and he unbuttoned at One
end and buttoned up at the other. When he had
taken oﬁ‘ his waistcoat, he could not undo the string!


MEMOIRS OF VIDOCQ. 39
‘of the neck of his shirt, and was compelled to cut
them; and at last, except his breeches, was as naked
as a worm. Belle-Rose again gave him the foil..
‘ Now, my friend,’ said he, ‘ mind your guard ! ’—‘ De-
fend yourself,’ cried his adversary; swords were
crossed. Fanfan’s blade shook and trembled; the
other weapon was motionless. Fanfan seemed about
to faint.
“‘Enough,’ suddenly cried Belle-Rose and the
second, ‘you are two brave fellows; enough, you'
must not out each other’s throats; be friends, embrace,
and let there be no further dispute. Good God! all
that is good need not be killed. But he- is a gallant
.young lad. Be a peased, M. Fanfan.’
“ Fanfan breat ed again, and plucked up when his
courage was mentioned; his opponent made some
diﬁiculties about consenting to an arrangement, but
at length was softened; and they embraced, whilst it
was agreed that the reconciliation should be completed
by brcakfasting at a drinking house, near Notre Dame,
where there was good wine to be had.
“ When we reached the place, the breakfast was
spread and ready. '
“ Before we sat down, M. Belle-Rose took Fanfan
and myself aside. ‘Well,’ said he, ‘ _ou know now
what a duel is; it is not an out of t e way matter;
I am content with you, my dear Fanfan, you behaved
like an angel. But you must be great throughout:
you understand me—you must not allow him to pay.’
“ At these words Fanfan turned very red; for he
knew the depth of our purse. ‘ Oh, good Lord, let
the mutton boil,’ added Belle-Rose, who saw his em-
barrassment. ‘If you are out of cash I will take care
of all that; here, do you want money? Will you have
thirty francs ?—or sixty? Amongst friends, that is
nothing.’ And so saying, he drew a dozen crowns
from his pocket—‘ With you they are in good keeping,
and will bring good luck.’ if


40 manoms or VIDOCQ.
“ Fanfan hesitated. ‘Accept them, and pay me
when on can. On these terms there can be no
hesitatlon in borrowing.’ I jo ed Fanfan’s elbow,
as much as to say, ‘ Take it.’ e obeyed; and we
ocketed the crowns, touched at the kindness of
gelleJtose.
“ He was soon, however. to skin us of them. Ex-
perience is a great teacher, and *M. Belle-Rose was a
deep fellow ! -
“ Breakfast went off with spirit; we talked muchrof
the avarice of parents-_the brutalities of apprentices’
masters—of the blessings of inde endence—the .im-
mense wealth amassed in the Indies: the .names of
the Cape, Chandernagor, Calcutta, Pondicherry, and
Tipoo-Saib were adroitly introduced; examples were
quoted of the vast fortunes made by the young men
whom Belle-Rose had recently engaged. ‘ It is not
to boast,’ said he, ‘ but I am not an unlucky fellow:
it was I who enlisted little Martin; and now he is a
nabob, rolling in gold and silver. I will bet that he
has grown proud; and perhaps if he saw me would
not recognise me. Oh, I have found many ingrates
in my time! But what of that? It is the fate of
man‘!’ .
“ Our sitting was a long one. At the dessert, M.
Belle-Rose again brought on the carpet the ﬁne fruits of
the Antilles: whilst he drank the wine, ‘ Cape wine for
ever,’ said he; ‘ how delicious that is :’ with the coffee
he expatiated on the Martinique: when they brought
the cognac, ‘Ah! ah!’ said he, maklng a. grimace,
‘ this is not equal to the rum, and still less the excel-
lent pine-apple of Jamaica :’ they poured out some
parfait amour: ‘ This is drinkable,’ said he, ‘ but still
it is not even small beer in comparison with the
liqueurs of the celebrated madame Anfous.’ ;
“ Belle-Rose was seated between Fanfan and myself,
and during the whole repast took great care of us.
He kept up the incessant song of ‘ Empty your


manoms or vmoco. 41
glasses,’ and he ﬁlled them incessantly. ‘ Who made
you such half-wet birds,’ said he at intervals, ‘ Come,
another glass, look at me, and do as I do.’
“ These phrases, and many others, had due eﬂ’ect.
Fanfan and I were pretty well done up; he particu-
larly. ‘ M. Belle-Rose, is it very far to the colonies,
Chanbernagor, Seringapatam? Are they very far
oﬁ'?’ he repeated, from time to time, and he imagined
himself already embarked, so completely was he im-
bued with the ﬂourishing aCcounts. ‘ Patience,’ said
Belle-Rose, at length, ‘ and we shall get there; and in
the mean time I am going to tell you a story.. One
day, when I was on guard at the governor’s ’—‘ One
day, when he was governor,’ said Fanfan. ‘Hold
Itour peace,’ said Belle-Rose, putting his hand upon
is mouth—‘ it was only when I was a private,’ he .
continued. ‘ I was quietly seated in front of my
sentry-box, reposing on a sofa, when my negro, who
carried my gun,—you must know that in the colonies
every soldier has his male and female slave, as we
might here' have domestics of both sexes; only that
you may do with them what you please; and if it be
your pleasure, you may kill them as you would a ﬂy;
for you have power of life and death over them. As
for the woman, you do what you please with her ;—
I was on guard, as I just told you, and my negro was
carrying my gun—’ .
“ M. Belle-Rose had scarcely' got so far, when
a soldier in full- dress entered the room, and gave
him a letter, which he opened with haste. ‘ It is
from the minister of the marine,’ said he; ‘M. de
Sartine tells me, that the service of the king sum-
mons me to Surinam. The devil!’ added he, ad-
dressing Fanfan and me, ‘how awkward it is; I
did not think of quitting so soon; but as they say,
he who reckons without his host, reckons twice:
never mind.’
“ Belle-Rose then taking his glass in his right hand,
knocked several times on the table, and whilst the

a 2


42. usuoxns or vmoco.
other guests withdrew, a waiting-maid entered. ‘ The bill,
and send your master ;’ and the master came with the
bill of our ex enses. ‘ Astonishing how soon it mounts
up,’ observe Belle-Rose: ‘ one hundred and ninety
livres, twelve sous, six deniers ! Ah! M. Nivet, do you
want to skin us alive? Here is an item I will not pass
by—four lemons, twenty-four sous. We only had
three—reduction the ﬁrst. Peste, papa Nivet, I am
not surprised at your making a fortune. Seven half-
glasses, that is very ﬁne; but how do you make it out,
when there were only six of us? I shall ﬁnd other
mistakes, I am convinced. Asparagus, eighteen livres;
that is too much.’—‘ In April,’ said M. Nivet, ‘ and
so early!’—‘ Well, that is right; young eas, arti-
chokes, ﬁsh, lettuces, strawberries, twenty- our livres
-—that is correct. The wine is fair enough: now I
will add it up. Put down nought and carry one-the
total is correct, deducting the twelve sous and the six
deniers there remains one hundred and ninety livres.
Well, will you give me credit for the amount, papa
Nivet ?’—‘ Oli!’ replied the landlord, ‘ yesterday,
yes; today, no; credit on land as long as you please,
but once at sea, how am I be repaid? at Surinam?
Devil take the sea-going creditors. I tell you money
I want, and you shall not go out till I am satisﬁed;
otherwise I shall send for the watch, and we shall
then see —”
“ M. Nivet went out in an apparent rage.
“ ‘ He is a man of his word,’ said Belle-Rose to us.
‘ But an idea strikes me, in' great distresses, great re-
medies. Doubtlessly you have no greater wish than
myself to be led before M. Lenoir between four-guards.
The king gives 100 francs a man for recruits; there
are two of you, that makes 200 francs: sign your en-
rolment; I will go and get the cash, then return and
free you. What say you ?’
“ Fanfan and I looked at each other in silence.
‘ What! do you hesitate? Ihad a better opinion of
you. I, who would out myself in quarters—and then


44 manoms or vrnoco.
“ ‘You see,’ said the husband, ‘ I did not make hef'
sa so.’ 7
"V‘ The farce was thus performed. M. Belle-Rose
offered us the refreshment of a glass of rum: we drank
to his wife, and she drank to our ood voyage. ‘ For
I suppose,’ she added, ‘that t ese gentlemen are
ours. My dear fellow,’ said she to Fanﬁsn, ‘ on have
the face they like in those parts; square souldeis,
wide chest, well-made leg, nose a la Bourbon.’ Then
turning to me, ‘And you too; Oh] you are well-
limbed fellows.’——‘ And. lads too, who will not allow
themselves to be trampled on,’ added Belle-Rose;
‘ this gentleman has been at it already this morning.’
‘What, already! I congratulate him. Come here,
my dear sir, and let me kiss you; I always liked young
fellows, that is my taste: every one has their inclina-
tion. Do not be jealous, Belle-Rose.’—‘ Jealous of
what? My friend behaved like a second Bayard, as I
shall tell the regiment; the colonel shall know it, and
advancement must follow—corporal at least, if not an
oﬂicer. Ah, when you have the epaulette on your
shoulders you will be a noted brave man! ’ Fanfau
jumped for joy. As for me, sure that I was no less
brave than him, I said to myself, ‘ If he advances,l
shall not hang back.’ We were both very happy.
“‘ I ought to tell you one thing,’ pursued the re-
cruiter: ‘ recommended as you are, you must excite
jealousy; there are envious people everywhere, in
regiments as well as elsewhere; but remember that
if they use a word of abuse I shall take it up—once
under my protection—enough. Write to me.’-—
‘ What!’ said Fanfan, ‘ do not you go with us?’——
‘ No,’ replied Belle-Rose, ‘to my great regret: the
minister has need of me. I shall join you at Brest.
Tomorrow at eight o’clock I expect you here, not later:
todayI have no leisure to remain longer with you;
duty must be done. Adieu till tomorrow.’
, We took leave of madame Belle-Rose, who em-
braced us. Next day we were, at half-past seven,


MEMOIRS or VIDOCQ. 45
aroused by the bugs which lodged with us at Griﬁ'ou’s.
‘ Give me unctual men!’ said Belle-Rose, when he
saw us. ‘ am one myself.’ Then assuming amore
serious air: ‘ If you have any friends and acquaint-
ances, you have the rest of the day for leave-taking.
Now this is your route; your allowance is three sous
per league, with lodging, ﬁring, and candle. You may
start as soon as you like; that is no affair of mine; but
do not forget, that, if you are found in the streets of
Paris tomorrow evening, the police will conduct you
to your place of destination.’
“ This threat cut us up root and branch; but as we '
had baked, so we must brew; and we started. From
Paris to Brest is a famous long walk, but, in s ite of
blisters, we made ten leagues a day. We arrived at
last, but not without havmg a thousand times cursed
Belle-Rose. A month afterwards we embarked. Ten
years afterwards, day for day, I was made corporal,
and Fanfan also promoted; he was knocked on the
head at St Domingo, during Leclerc’s expedition. He
was a devil amongst the negro women. As for me, I
have yet a steady foot and good eye; my chest is well
lined, and I may have the luck to bury you all. I have
passed many rough days in my life; been thrown from
one colony to another ;7 I have rolled my ball as I went,
and l have not been a loser; never mind, the children
of glee will never die ;—and then, when they are no
more here, they are to be found elsewhere,” continued
the seljeant Dufailli, strikin the pockets of his uni-
form ; and then lifting up is waistcoat, exposed a
leather belt, apparently well lined. “ I say, there is
yet butter in the ohurn, and yellow enough too, with-
out counting what we may chance to borrow from the
English. The India-Company owe me a balance still,
which some three-masters will bring.”—“ In the mean-
time, all goes well with you, father Dufailli,” said the
forager. “ Very well,” said the serjeant-major. Yes,
very well, indeed, thought I; determining to cultiyate
agn acquaintance which chance rendered so propltlous
or me.
a.


46 MEMOIRS or vrooco.
CHAPTER XIX.
Uontinuation of the some dly—The Cotemporaine -An adjntanl
de place—The daughters of mother Thomas—The silver lion-—v
Captain Paulet and his lieutenant—The irates—The bombard-
ment—Departure of Lord Land‘erdale— he disguised actress—
The executioner—Henry the Ninth and his Indies—I embark—-
Sen-ﬁght—Paulet’l second is killed—Capture of a. brig of war-'-
My Sosia—l change my name—Death of Dufailli—Twelﬂhvday
-—A frigate sunk—I wish to save two lovers—A tempest—The
ﬁsher-men’s wives
WHILS’l‘ giving us the scene of the recruiters, father
Dufailli had drank at every sentence. He was of opi-
nion that words ﬂowed best when moistened. He
might, to be sure, have used water'; but he had a great
horror of that, he said, ever since' he fell into the sea,
whiéh was in 1789. Thus it happened, that, partly
through drinking and partly through talking, he got
drunk imperceptibly. At last he reached a point, at
which he found it impossible to express himself, but
with the utmost diﬁicult ; his tongue became what we
call thick. And then t e forager and seljeant-major
retired. _
Dui'ailli and I remained alone: he Was asleep and
leant on the table, and begun to snore; whilst I eoolly ‘
gave myself up to a train of reﬂexions. Three hours
elapsed, and he had not ﬁnished his sleep. When he
awoke, he- was quite surprised to ﬁnd any one near
him; at ﬁrst, he looked at me as through a thick fog,
which did not allow him to distinguish my features,
but insensibly the vapbur disappeared, and he recog6
nized me, which was all he could do. He stumbled as
he arose; and ordering a basin of coffee, without milk,
into which he emptied a salt-cellar, swallowed the
liquid with small gulps; and having got rid of his
short sword, he took my arm, dragging me towards
the door. My aid was most needful to him; it was
the vine twining about the elm. “ Youare going to


mamoras or vrnoco. 47
tow me,” said he, “ and I will pilot you. Do you see
the telegraph? What does it say, with its arms in the
air ?”-—-“ It makes signals that the Dufailli is lying to.”
“ The Dufailli,—-thousand Gods! a ship of three hun-
dred tons at least. Do not fear; all’s right with Du-
failli.” At the same time, without letting go my am,
he took off his hat, and placing it on the end of his
ﬁnger, spun it round. “ See my compass; attention-
we go as the cockade points—weather the cape of the
Rue des Précheurs; forward, march!” ordered Du-
failli ; and we took together the road to the lower
town, after he had put on his hat with much noise.
Dufailli had promised to advise me, but he was not
in a state to do it. I anxiously desired that he
should recover his reason, but, unfortunately, the air
and exercise produced a precisely opposite effect. On
going down t e main street, we were obliged to enter
every public-house, with which the residence of the
army had ﬁlled the Iplace; everywhere made a stay,
shorter or longer. endeavoured to make them as
brief as possible. Each shop, Dufailli said, was a ort,
into which we must put, and each port encrease the
cargo, which he had already so much difﬁculty to carry.
“ I am as full as a beggar,” said he to me, in broken
words ; “ and yet I am not a beggar, for beggars never
get drunk, do the my boy?”
Twenty times resolved on leaving him; but Du-
failli, when sober, mi ht aid me; I remembered his
full girdle, and even Without that, I knew well that he
had other resources than his serjeant’s pay. Having
reached the church in the Place d’Alton, he took it‘
into his head to have his shoes brushed, which, when
done, he lost his balance iv; moving from the stool;
and, thinking he would fall, I approached to support
him. “ What, countryman, don’t fear because I make
a reel or two; I have a sailor’s foot.” In the mean
time the brush had given brightness to his shoes; and
when they were completely blackened, “ Come, the
ﬁnishing touch,” said Dufailli; “ or is that for tomor-


48 MEMOIRS or vrnoco.
row?" At the same time he gave him a sous.
“ You will not make a rich man of me, seljeant.”—
“ What, do you grumble?-—mind I don’t kill you.”
Dufailli made a gesture, but his hat fell 01!, and,
blown by the wind, rolled along the pavement; the
shoe-black ran after it and brought it back. “ It is
'not worth two ence,” cried Dufailli; “never mind,
on are a goo fellow." Then thrusting his hands
into his pockets, he took out a handful of money:
“ Here, drink to my health.”—“ Thanks, my colonel,”
said the shoe-black, who proportioned his titles to the
generosity he met with.
“ I must now,” said Duﬁiilli, who seemed by degrees
to recover his senses, “lead you into good quarters.”
I had made up my mind to accompany him wherever
he went. I had witnessed his liberality, and I was
not ignorant that drunkards are the most grateful
persons ossible to those who give them their com-
pany. allowed myself then to be piloted as he
wished, and we reached the Rue des Précheurs. At
the door of a new house, of elegant appearance, was
a sentry and several soldiers. “This is it,” said he.
“ What, here? Are you going to take me to tbe.staﬁ'-
major?”—“ The staﬂlmajorl—nonsense; I say it is
the beautiful and fair Magdelaine’s; or, if you like it
better ‘madame uarante mille hommes’ (madam
fort thousand merih as they call her.”—-“ Im ossible,
Du ailli, you are under some mistake.”—“ li, I see
double, do I? Is not that the sentinel ‘P” Dufailli
advanced whilst speaking,'and asked for admittance.
“Go back,” said a quarter-master, roughly; “you
ought to know well enough that this is not your day."
Dufailli persisted. “ Go away, I tell you,” said the
subaltern, “or I will take you to the black hole.”
This threat made me tremble all over.
Dufailli’s obstinacy might be fatal to me, and yet
it would not have been prudent to tell him my fears;
at all events not where we then were; and I therefore
only made some observations to him, which were


memole or vinocQ. 49
however entirely lost upon him in his present state.v
“ Let the fellow go and be -——, the sun shines
equally for us all: liberty, equality, or death,” he
repeated, whilst struggling to escape the hold I kept
on him, that he might not commit himself in any way.
“ Equality, I tell you ;” and in an attitude better
conceived than described, he looked at me with that
stupid no-meaning stare which a man has when he
has ‘put an enemy into his mouth to steal away his
brains,’ and reduce him to the level of a brute.
I was in despair, when, at the cry “ Present arms! ”
followed by this warning, “ Cannoneer, mind what you
do; here is the adjutant, here is Bevignac," he sudden]
seemed quite to come to himself. A shower-bath fal -
ing from a height of ﬁfty feet, upon a maniac’s head,
has not so sudden an effect in restoring his senses.
The name of Bevignac made a singular impression 0n
the soldiery, who had ranged themselves in front of
the ground ﬂoor of the fair Magdelaine’s house. They
looked at one another without, as it seemed, daring to
breathe, so much were they alarmed. The adjutant,
who was a tall meagre-looking man, having arrived,
began to count them, whilst he made motions with his
cane. I never saw a face so deeply furrowed; on his
thin and lank jaws were two small unpowdered curls;
on the whole countenance might be traced a certain
something, which declared that adjutant Bevignac was
a perfect martinet, and determinater opposed to any-
thing like want of discipline. Anger was visible in his
face, his eyes were blood-shot, and a horrible convul-
sion of his jaws announced that he was about to s eak.
“ By the devil’s nestl Well! All quietl You now
orders. None but officersl .By satan’s nest! and every
man in his turn.” Then perceiving us, and advancing
with uplifted cane, “ What are you doing here, you
serjeant of powder-monkies ?” I thought he was about
to strike us. “ Oh, I see,” he added, “ it is nothing;
only drunk ;” addressing Dufailli. “ Well, a jovial
cup is excusable; go to bed, and do not let me meet
I‘


5O msmoms or vmoco.
you again.”—“ Yes, commandant,” replied Dufailli, at
this order, and we went away down the Rue des
Precheurs.
There is no occasion to mention the profession of
the fair Magdelaine le Picarde; it must have been
already guessed. She was a tall woman, about twenty-
three years of age, remarkable for the bloom of her
complexion, as well as the beauty of her ﬁgure. It
was her boast, that she belonged to no one person.
She devoted herself, from a principle of conscience,
entirely and solely to the army—the whole army—but
nothing but the army: ﬁfer or ﬁeld-marshal, all who
wore the uniform were equally well received by her;
but she professed reat contempt for what she called
the snobs (pe uins . There never was a citizen who
could boast 0 her favours: she was somewhat tena-
cious with marines, whom she called “ tar-buckets,”
and ﬂeeced at pleasure, because she could not make
up her mind to look on them as soldiers; and she
used to say, that the navy ﬁlled her purse, and the
army was her lover. This lady, whom I had occasion
to visit at a subsequent period, was, for a long time,
the delight of the camp, without her health being at
all impaired, and was supposed to be rich. But whether
Magdelaine (as I know) was not mercenary, or whether
as the old proverb goes, “ What is got over the devil’s
back is spent under his belly,” Magdelaine died in 1812,
at the hospital of Ardres, poor, but true to her ﬂag :-
but two years more, and, like another nymph well
known in Paris, after- the disaster of Waterloo, she
would have had the grief of calling herself the “ widow
of the grand army.”
The memory of Magdelaine still lives all over
France, I might say Europe, amongst the remnants
of the old phalanxes. She was the “ cotemporaine” of
that period; and, if I did not well know that she is no
more, I should fancy that I had again found her in the
“ cotemporaine” of this period. However, I must re-
mark, that Magdelaine, although her features were


manoms or vinoco. 51
rather masculine, had nothing vulgar in her look ; the
shade of her hair was »not of the sickly hue of heckled
hemp; the golden reﬂexion of her silken tresses was
in perfect harmony with the tender azure of her eyes;
her nose was not ill formed, in the angular curve of
its aquiline prominence. There was something of
Messalina about her mouth, but yet it was kind and
frank; and, besides, Magdelaine only: carried on her
business: she never wrote *; and, amongst all the po-
lice,=onl knew the city serjeants, or the night guard,
whom she paid to leave her in quiet.
The pleasure I have, after a lapse of more than
twenty years, in tracing the portrait of Magdelaine,
has made me for an instant forget Dufailli.
It is very diﬁicult to eradicate an idea from a brain
troubled with the fumes of wine. Dufailli had resolved
on ﬁnishing the day in female society, and nothing coiild
turn him from it. Scarcer had we taken half-a-dozen
steps, than, looking back, “ He has disappeared,” said
he; “ come along, this way ;” and, leaving my arm, he
advanced towards a door, at which he knocked; and
which, after a few minutes, was half opened, and an
old woman’s head appeared. “ What do you want ‘9”—
“ What do we want,” answered Dufailli; “ don’t you
know me! Do not you recognize friends ?”—“ Ah! ahl
is it you, father Dufailli; there is noroom for you.”
“ No room for friends! You’re joking, mother; you
atelplaying. off some trick upon us”—-“ No, on the
word of an honest woman, you know, my old lad,
that no one is more welcome than yourself; but my
eldest da hter is engaged, and so is Pauline; but we
shall be id to see you bye and bye.”-—“ Well, if it
must be so, mother Thomas,” said Dufailli, putting a
piece of money on his eye, “ it cannot be helped, but
you must get us something to drink meanwhile; you
ave some little spare corner to put us into.”—-“ Aye,
eye, always a wag, always a'wag, father Dntailli ; it is
‘ This alludes to a work recently published in Paris, called
' Memoirs: d’une Cotemporaine.'—-Translator.


mamoms or vinoco. 53
lungs of mother Thomas, warned me that the danger
was not far. 061 I was unarmed, and ran immediately
to Dufailli’s room, to ask for his tinder-box, of which
I knew I should make a better use than he would. It
was time, for our castle was invaded by ﬁve or six
marines, who, sword in hand, were endeavouring to
get our berths. These gentlemen were threatening,
neither more nor less than to force us to jump out of
the windows; and, as they swore besides, to put every-
thing to ﬁre and sword in the house, mother Thomas,
with her squeaking pipe, was pealin the tocsin of ‘
alarm with a noise that aroused the w ole neighbour-
hood. Although a man not easily frightened, I confess
I felt a sensation of fear which I could not repress.
The event, whatever it might be, would probably end
seriously for me.
I was, however, determined to take a resolute part.
Pauline earnestly besought me to shut myself up with
her. “ Fasten the bolt,” said she; “ I beseech you to
fasten the bolt.” But the garret in which we were was
not impregnable. I might be blockaded; and preferred
defending the approach to the place, rather than run
_the risk of being taken like a rat in a trap. In spite of
Pauline’s efforts to detain me, I attempted, a sortie,
and was soon engaged with the assailants. I darted
amongst them from the end of a narrow gallery. and
with so much impetuosity, that, before 'they could re-
cover themselves, upset and thrust headlong from a
ladder, by which theywere attempting to gain an en-
trance, they were laid. sprawling on the ground, bruised
and wounded severely. Then Pauline, her sister, and
Dufailli, to render the victory more decisive, ﬂung
upon them all that came to hand; chairs, tables, stools, \
and various et ceteras, to detail which would be te-
dious. At every missile that struck them, the enemy,
prostrate on the pavement, cried out with pain and
rage. In a moment the passage was ﬁlled. This noc-
turnal brawl could not fail to arouse all in the vicinity,-
and the night-guard, police agents, and pan-021e, entered
r


54 msmorns or vrnoeq.
the domicile of madame Thomas ;—there must have
been at least ﬁfty men, all armed, and making a tre-
mendous hubbub. Madame Thomas endeavoured to
testify that her house was quite tranquil, but they
would not hear her; and these words, some of which
were pretty signiﬁcant, reached our ears from the
ground ﬂoor—“ Take this woman oﬂl" —“ Come, old
, follow us; or shall we get a wheelbarrow to
bundle you in, old duchess. Come, no nonsense."
“ Sweep off the whole party; take every one; seize
their arms. I will teach you, you blackguards, to
make a row.” These words, pronounced in a pro-
vincial accent, and mixed with occasional interjections,
which, like the garlic and pepper, are fruits of his
country, we learnt that adjutant Bevignac was at the
head of the arty. Dufailli had no inclination to get
into his clutc es; and, as for me, I had excellent rea-
sons for wishing to escape. “ The staircase—go up the
staircase, and guard the passage,” roared out Bevignac.
But whilst he thus 'bellowed and vociferated, I had
time to tie a sheet to the window-bar, and the obstacles
which separated us from the armed force had not been
removed, when Pauline, Therése, Dufailli, and myself;
were already out of reach. This threat, “ Do not
trouble yourselves—I will follow you,” which we heard
at a distance, only moved our laughter. The danger
was over.
We consulted as to where we should pass the night.
Therese and Pauline proposed that we should quit
the city, and make a pastoral excursion into the
country. “ No,.no,” said Dufailli; “ let us go to the
Silver Lion, to Boutrois;” and this was agreed on.
M. Boutrois, although it was an untimely hour, 0 ned
his doors with much politeness. “Ah,” said e to
Dufailli, “I learnt that you had received your prize-
money, and you are both right and welcome to pay
us a visit. I have some admirable claret. What will
the ladies lease to take? A two-bedded room, I
see.” At t e same time M. Boutrois, armed with a


neurons or vmoco. 55
\
bunch of keys, and with a candle in his hand, led us
to the room destined for us. “ You will ﬁnd your-
selves quite at home here. No one will disturb you;
where we purvey for the lieutenant of the marine, the
commandant in chief, and the commissary-general of
olice, you know no one'dare to interfere. Madame
outrois now, does not like a joke, so I shall take
care and not say that you are not alone. Madame B.
is a very gOod woman—a very good woman; but her
manners, you see-her manners are very formal; and
on this point she is strictness personiﬁed. Women
here! If she only had the slightest suspicion of such
a thing, she would think herself lost for ever; she has
Such an opinion of the sex in general! Oh, mon
Dieu! must we not live with the living ?—the jolly ?-
the vivacious? I am a philosopher myself, provided
—mind, I say provided—that there is no ground for
scandal; and suppose there were, why every one to
his liking, as the elderly gentlewoman said when she
embraced her cow; every person to his own way of
thinking and doing; the only point being, that it does
not offend or prejudice any one.”
M. Boutrois treated us to a great many more equally
brilliant aphorisms; after which he told us that he
had a well-stocked cellar, all of which was at out
service. “ As for the boiler,” he added, “that at the
present hour has got rather cool, but your worships
ave only to order, and in a brace of seconds all shall
be read .” Dufailli ordered some claret, and a ﬁre,
althoug it was quite warm enough to have done
without.
The claret was brought, ﬁve or six logs were cast
on the ﬁre, and an ample collation spread before us.
Some cold poultry occupied the centre of the table,
and formed the resisting point of an unprepared
repast where all had been calculated for an enormous
appetite. Dufailli desired that nothing should be
wanting; and M. Boutrois, sure of being well
paid, was most complying. Therese and her


mamoms or vrnoco. 57
Walked. “ Captain Paulet for ever!” they cried out,
“ Captain Paulet for ever! ” The troop soon step ed
in front of the hotel. “ Hallo! father Boutrois, fat er
Boutrois l ” they roared out all together. Some tried to
force the door; others thumped with the knocker in a
most energetic manner; some pulled the hell with incre~
dible violence; and others threw stones at the shutters.
At this uproar I started, imagining that our asylum
was to be again attacked; Pauline and her sister were
not quite at ease; and at length somebody running
hastily down stairs, four ste s at a time, the door was
opened, and there was a rus , as if the embankments
of a ditch had given way. The torrent was headlong;
a mixture of voices uttered sounds uite unintelligible
to us. “ Peter, Paul, Jenny, Eliza, ouse, everybody,
wife, get up! By Jove, they sleep like dormice."
One might have thought that the house was on ﬁre.
We soon heard doors opening and shutting; there
was a noise of tables, an inconceivable uproar, a female
servant who was bitterly complaining of indecent
treatment, shouts of riotous laughter, and bottles
rattling and breaking. Plates, dishes, and glass clash-
ing together, and the winding up of the jack, added to
the din; a chinking of money, oaths in English and
French occasionally heard amidst this infernal clatter,
all made the place a ‘erfect bedlam broke loose.
“By Jove it is joy, or never heard it before,” said
Dufailli. “ What are all these rejoicings for? What
does it all mean? Have they captured the Spanish
Galleons? But this is not the track for them.”
Dufailli cudgelled his brain to make out the cause of
all the uproar, which was to me equally inexplicable,
when M. Boutrois, with a radiant face, entered, to
ask leave to light-a ﬁre. “ You do not know,” said
he, “that the ‘Revanche’ has just come into port.
Our Paulet has been carrying on the war in his old
way; is he not a fortunate fellow ‘P A captureof three
millions (francs) beneath the very cannon of Dover."
--“ Three millions ! ” cried Dufailli, “ and I not


68 MEM'OIRS or VIDOCQ.
there!”—“Do you hear that, sister? Three mil=
lionsl” added Pauline, jumping like a young kid.
“ Three millions l ” echoed Therese, “ I am delighted!
We shall come in for a share!”—“ Ah, woman,
woman,” interrupted Dufailli, “interest before all;
you should rather think of Iyour mother, who is per-
haps at this moment in arkness and distress.”—1
“ Mother Thomas is an old -—--” what‘ I will not
sully my pages by repeating) added T erese. “ Come
that is neat, very neat,” observed Boutrois, “for a
daughter. ‘ Honour thy father and thy mother, that
'thy days may be long,’ &c.”-—“ I cannot swallow that
three millions,” said Dufailli. “ Tell us, father Bou-
trois, all about it.” Our host excused himself on the
lea of business ; “ besides,” he added, “ I do not well
know the particulars, and am in a great hurry.”
The riot continued; I heard them ranging chairs,
and the silence that followed betokencd that their
jaws were ﬁlled. As it was probable that there
would be some suspension of these noises, I proposed
that we should go to bed, which was agreed on; and
as day-break was near at hand, that we might not be
disturbed by the light, and make up for lost time, we
drew the curtains close.
However, we were not aroused so soon as I had
anticipated: sailors eat fast and drink long. Songs,
which shook the very glasses, at length disturbed our
repose; forty discordant voices joining in the chorus
of the celebrated hymn of Roland. “Devil take the
singers!” cried Dufailli, “I had the most agreeable
dream ;-—I was at Toulon: were you ever at Toulon,
old fellow?” I answered Dufailli, that I knew Tou-
lon, but could not see what relation there could be
between his agreeable dream and'that city. “ I was a
galley-slave,” he replied, “and I had just escaped.”
Dufailli perceived that this statement made an un-'
pleasant impression on me, which I could not conceal.
“ Well, what is the matter with you countryman “P
had just escaped, and that’s-no bad dream, I think;


manoms or vinoco. 59
for a prisoner. It 'was only a dream, to be sure; but
that is not all, for I entered amongst the corsairs, and
got as much gold as I could carry.”
Although Ihave never been superstitious, I must
confess I took Dufailli’s dream as a prediction on my
future lot; it was perhaps a warning from heaven, to
determine the course I should pursue. However,
said I to myself, at present I do not deserve heaven’s
interposition, and perhaps I only fancy it. I soon
made another reﬂection. It occurred to me, that the
old serjeant might have been venting his suspicions
of me, and the idea vexed me. I rose; and Dufailli
saw that I had an air more serious than usual, “ What
ails you,” said be, “why, you look as moping as an
owl.”—-“ Has anybody sold you pease which you
cannot boil ?” asked Pauline, me by the arm,
and swinging me round to disturb my reverie. “Is
he in the doldrums,” enquired Therese. “Hold your
tongue,” replied Dufailli, “ and speak when you have
leave to do so; in the mean time, sleep, sluts, sleep,
and do not move till we return.”
He then beckoned me to follow him; and in obeying
he conducted me to a little parlour, where we found
captain Paulet and his crew, the majority of whom
were drunk with wine and joy. As soon as we ap-
eared, there was an unanimous shout of “Dufailli!
ufaillil”—“ Hail to mine ancient!” said Paulet;
and then oifering my companion a seat beside him,
added, “ Anchor here my old cock, we may well say
that providence is good. M. Boutrois, Boutrois, bring
more ‘bishops,’ as if it rained wine. Come, we will
have no sorrow here, from this time henceforward,”
he added, pressing Dufailli’s hand. Paulet then
looked attentively at me, and said, “ I think I know
you, we have met before; you have handled a marlin-
spike, my heart ." .
I told him that I had been on board the privateer,
‘ Barras,’ but that I did not recollect having ever met
him before. “ Well, then, we will make acquaintance


6O MEMOIRS or vmoccz.
now. I do not know,” he added, “ but you look like
a jolly dog—a lad for all sorts of weathers, as we say.
I say, my boys, has he not the look of a hearty chap?
I like the cut of his jib. Sit here, on my right hand;
b my ﬁst, what a back and loins; here are shoulders!
lgou are just the lad for ﬁshing for Englishmen.” 0n
ﬁnishing these words, he put on my ;_ head his red
cap. “ It does not look amiss on the lad," he added,
with a knowing look, but in which there was much
kindness. ’
I saw at once that the captain would not be sorry to
number me amon st his crew. Dufailli, who had not
yet become speec less, exhorted me most energeti-
cally to proﬁt by the opportunity; this was the good
adwce he had promised me, and I followed it. It was
agreed that I should go a voyage, and that the next
dayI should go to the owner, M. Choisnard, who would
advance me some money.
It must not be doubted but that I was well received
by my new comrades; the captain had placed a thou-
sand crowns to their credit at the hotel, and many of
them had other resources in the city. ' I never witnessed
such profusion. Nothing was	oo dear or delicate for
the privateers. M. Boutrois, to satisfy them, was com-
pelled to put the whole city and environs in requisition,
and even dispatched couriers to nourish their luxurious
palates, the duration of which was not limited to a sin-
gle day. It was on Monday, and my companion was
not sobered by the following Sunday; as for me, my
stomach and head reed delightfully, and neither re-
ceived the slightest c eck.
Dufailli had forgotten his promise to the ladies, and
I reminded him of it; and quitting our party for a mo-
ment, I returned to them, presuming that they were
growing impatient at our absence. Pauline was alone,
her sister had gone to learn what was become of their
mother; she soon returned, and throwing herself on
the bed, she exclaimed with an air of despair, “ We are
undone for ever.”—“ What is the matter ?” I asked.


manoras or vxnocq. 61
“ We are lost,” she answered, with her face bathed in
tears. “ Two men have been carried to the hospital
with broken ribs, a guard has been wounded, and the
commandant has ordered the house to be shut up.
What will become of us ‘9 where can we ﬁnd a home ‘8”
“ A home,” said I, “ you shall always ﬁnd; but where
is your mother ?” Therese answered that her mother
was ﬁrst led to the guardhouse, and afterwards to the
city prison, and the report was that she would not very
easily get out again. .
This information gave me some uneasiness : mother
Thomas would be questioned, and perhaps had already
been examined at the police oﬁice, or by the commis-
sary-general ; and she doubtless had mentioned, or
would mention, Dufailli’s name; and if he were ques-
tioned I should be so also. It was important to pre-
vent this; I returned with haste to concert with the
serjeant the measures necessary to be pursued. For-
tunately, he was not so far gone as not to hear reason.
I talked only of the danger which threatened him; he
understood me, and taking twenty guineas from his
pocket, “ Here,” saidhe, “is wherewithal to sto mo-
ther Thomas’s blabbing tongue ;” and then cal ing a
waiter to him, he gave him the money, desiring him to
carry it forthwith to the prisoner. “ He is the jailor’s
son,” said Dufailli, “ and has admittance everywhere;
and, moreover, is a close and discreet lad.” '
Our messenger returned quickly, and told us that
mother Thomas, though twice examined, had men-
tioned no names, and had received the bribe with gra-
titude ; vowing that she was determined, if she died for
it, to say nothing that could injure us; and thus I was
assured that I 'had nothing to fear on this head. “ And '
as to the wenches, what must we do with them ?” said
I to Dufailli. “ Oh, we must export them to Dunkirk,
and I will pay the ex enses," he replied; and we then
returned to prepare t em for their departure. At ﬁrst
they appeared astonished; but after some arguments,
proving that it was the best method they could adopt,
a


62 memorns or vrnoco.
and that there was danger in remaining longer at Bou-
logne, they resolved to leave us. The next day we
started them 03, and the arting did not cost us much
pain. Dufailli had put t em well in cash, and we
oped for future meetings, &c. In fact, we did meet
again at a later period, in a certain house kept by a
namesake of the celebrated Jean-Bart, a female de-
scendant of whom, in the bosom of his very country,
consecrated herself to the pleasures of the rivals of her
great ancestor.
Mother Thomas recovered her liberty after six
months’ conﬁnement; Pauline and her sister then re-
turning to the maternal bosom, though torn from their
native soil, renewed the courses of their former lives.
I know not whether they made a fortune; it is not
impossible. But for want of accurate information, I
here end their history, and resume my own.
Paulet and his crew had scarcely noticed our ab-
sence, before we re'oined them; we sang, drank, and
eat alternately wit out stirring, until midnight; thus
confounding all repasts in one lengthened meal. Pau-
let, and Fleuriot his secondin command, were the
heroes of the feast; physically, as well as morally, they
were the perfect antipodes of each other. The former
was a stout short man, strong backed, square set, with
a neck like a bull; wide shoulders, at full face, and his
features like that of a lion, his aspect either ﬁerce or
gentle; in ﬁght he was pitiless, elsewhere he was hu-
mane and compassionate. At the moment of boarding
he was a perfect demon; in the bosom of his family,
and with his wife and children, except a little rough-
ness of manner, he was as mild as a dove; then he was
‘ the jolly, simple, bluﬁ‘; and rough farmer; a perfect
patriarch, whom it was impossible to discern in the
pirate. Once on shipboard, his manners and language
entirely changed, and he became harsh and coarse to
excess; his will was as despotic as that of an oriental
pasha; abrupt and rude, he had an iron arm and will,
and woe to im who opposed either. Paulet was a


64 MEMOIRS or vivoco.
carriages about, to dig trenches, to strap up artillery
eer, and, worse than that, to carry on my back the ini
' ernal knapsack, that eternal calf’s skin which has killed
more conscripts than the guns of Marengo. The calf‘s
skin gave me a knock-down blow. I could not resist
its attack. I offered myself to the depot, and was ad-
mitted. I had only to undergo the inspection of the
general. He was that martinet Sarrazin. He came
to me. ‘ I will wager that he is still weak-chested : are
you not?’ ‘Consumption in the second degree,’ re-
plied the major. ‘Is it so? I thought it. I said so.
They are all narrow-shouldered, hollow-chested, lanky
limbed, thick visaged. Show your legs. Why there are
four campaigns in them yet,’ continued the general,
striking me on the calf. ‘ And now what would
you? Your dismissal ? You shan’t have it. Be-
sides,’ he added, ‘ death only comes to him who
pauses: go your way.’ I wished to speak. ‘ Begone,’
repeated the general; ‘and be silent.’
“ The inspection concluded; I went and threw
myself on my camp-bed, and whilst I reclined on my
four-feet-long mattress, reﬂecting on the harshness of
the general, it occurred to me that I might ﬁnd him more
tractable if I were recommended by one of his brother
ofﬁcers. My father had been intimate with general Le-
grand, who was then at the camp at AxnbleteuSe, and
I thought I might ﬁnd a protector in him. I saw him,
and he welcomed me as the son of an old friend, gave
me a letter to Sarrazin, and sent one of his aide-de-
camps to attend me. The recommendation was pressing,
and I made sure of success. We arrived at the camp,
and making for the general’s abode, a soldier pointed
it out to us, and we found ourselves at the gate of a.
dilapidated barrack, which bore no marks of being a.
general’s residence ; no sentinel, no inscription, no
centry-box. I knocked with my sabre-hilt, and a voice
cried ‘ Enter,’ with the accent and tone of displeasure.
A packthread, which I pulled, drew up a wooden
latch, and the ﬁrst object that met our eyes on pene-
trating this asylum, was a woollen covering, under


Manorns or vinoco. 65*
which, lying side by side on the straw, were the general
and his negro. In this posture he gave us audience.
Sarrazin took the letter, and having read it, without
changing his position, he said to the aide-de-camp:
‘ General Legrand takes an interest in this young man.
Well, what would he have? that I put him on half-
pay? Ohl he cannot think such a thing.’ Then ads
dressing me-—‘ How much fatter should you be, if I
put you on half-pay? Oh, you have a ﬁne prospect
at home: if you are rich, to die gradually with over-
nursing; if you are poor, to encrease the misery of
your parents, and ﬁnish your days in an hospital. I
am a doctor for you: and my prescription is a bullet,
and then your cure will follow; if you escape that, the
knapsack will do for you, or marching and exercise will
put you to rights; these are additional chances. Be-
sides, do as I do, drink tar-water: that is worth all your
jalaps, and gruels, and messes.’ At the same time, he
stretched out his arm, he seized arlarge pitcher, which
was near him, and ﬁlled a can, which he offered to
me, and all refusal was in vain. I was compelled to
swallow some of the nauseous stuff; as was also the
aide-de-camp; the general drank after us, and his new
grp, to whom he handed the can, ﬁnished what was
le t.
“ There was then no hope of his recalling the de-
cision against which I had appealed, and we withdrew
greatly discontented. The aide-de-camp returned to Ama-
bleseuse and I to Fort Chatillon, which I entered more
dead than alive. From this moment I became the prey
to an apathetic sadness, which absorbed all my faculties:
I then obtained an exemption from service: night and
day I remained on vm couch, indiﬂ'erent to all
around me; and I thin I should have remained in
that position till now, if one winter’s night the English
had not determined to burn our ﬂotilla. An incon~
ceivable fatigue, although I did nothing, seizing on my
senses, had induced arprofound sleep.’ Suddenly I
was aroused by the report of cannon. -‘1 £058, and
G 2


66 neuoms or vrnoco.
through the panes of my window, I saw a thousand ﬁres
crossing each other in the air. On one side were im~
mense trains of ﬁre like rainbows; on the other side
were vast stars, which seemed to grow larger and
redder, and my ﬁrst idea was that I saw ﬁreworks.
At length a noise likethat of torrents, which precipié
tate themselves in cascades from the tops of rocks, gave
me a sort of shuddering feeling: at intervals darkness
usurped the place of the ruddy light, which I can only
compare to daylight in hell. The very earth seemed
scorched by it. I was already agitated by fever, and I
thought my head was swelling larger and larger. The
muster-call was beaten,Iheard the cry ‘ To arms 1’ and on
the ground the trampling of horses eet. Terror siezed
me, and delirium possessed me. I got my boots, and tried
to pull them on; it was impossible; they were too tight,
my legs were entangled in them; I tried to pull them
olf again; I could not. ' During my exertions each mm
ment increased my fears, all my comrades were dressed;
the silence which reigned about me warned me that
I was alone, and whilst, from all parts, persons were
running together, without thinking of the inconvenience
of my boots, I ﬂed with haste across the country, car-
rying my clothes under my arms.
“ Next day I reappeared amidst all the people whom
Ifound living. Ashamed of a cowardice at which I was
myself astonished, I had trumped up a story, which,
if I could ensure belief, would ave given me the re-
putation of a hero. Unfortunately the tale was not
swallowed so easily as I could have desired; no one
was the dupe of my lies: sarcasms and rude jokes
without end were thrown out, until I almost burst with
spite and rage; in any other circumstances I would have
fought the whole regiment, but I was in a state of
weakness, from which 1 did not rouse till the following
night, when I recovered a little of my wonted energy.
“ The English had again commenced the bombardment
of the city, and were so close to the shore, that we could
even hear their voices, and the balls of the thousand


traumas or vinoco. -67
'
cannons on the coast passed over their heads. Move-
nble batteries were then erected, which to approach
them as closely as possible, ﬂoated according to the
ebb and ﬂow of the tide. I was ordered to the com-
mand of a twelve-pounder, which having stationed at
the extremit of the rafts, we anchored. At that very
moment, a s ower of bullets were directed at us: our
howitzers were observed under the waggons, and
amongst the horses. It was evident that in spite of the
obscurity of the night, we had become an object of aim
to the enemy. We were about to return the compli-
ment, and had altered the level of our gun, when my
corporal, almost as much alarmed as I had been the
previous evening, desirous of seeing if the trunnions
had got loose in shifting the gun, placed his hand on
them, and suddenly uttered a piercing shriek which was
re-echoed all along the bank. His ﬁngers were crushed
beneath twenty hundred weight of metal: He at-
tempted to disengage them, but the incumbent mass
only pressed the more heavily, and he was still held
fast, and when enabled to disengage himself he fainted.
A dram of brandy revived him, and I offered to lead
him to the camp, which was no doubt set down as a
pretext for absenting myself. '
“ The corporal and I walked away together; but the
moment of entering the artillery warren, which we had
to cross, a burning hand grenade fell between two chests
ﬁlled with powder. The danger was imminent, and in
a' few seconds the whole ammunition would have blown
up. By running away I could have escaped safely, but
a change came over me, and death was no longer fear-
ful. Quicker than lightning I seized on the metal tube
whence brimstone and ﬁery matter were escaping, and
attempted to extinguish the ﬂame; but this being in:-
possible, I carried it in my hand, blazing as it was, to a
distance; and the instant I threw it on the earth, it
burst with a violence that shivered' the metal to pieces.
“ There was a witness of this deed; my hands, my
face, my burnt garments, the' sides of the powder
1


U8 numoms or vroocq.
boxes alread blackened with ﬁre, all testiﬁed my cou-
rage. I might have been proud, but I was only satis-
ﬁed: my companions would henceforward have no
right to taunt me with their oﬂ'ensive jokes. We went
onwards, and scarcely had we advanced a single step,
when the whole atmosphere seemed one blaze of ﬁre;
the ﬂames appeared in seven places at once, and the
brilliant and horrible light seemed at the harbour: the
slates cracked, whilst the roofs were burning, and we
thought we heard the report of muthi‘etry. Some de-
tachments, deceived by this, scoured about to discover
the enemy. Nearer to us, at a short distance from the
ship building yard, clouds of smoke and ﬂame rose from
a thatch, whence the burning straw was driven in all
directions by the wind. We heard a cry of distress—
the voice of a child—which'struck to my art; it was
perhaps too late, but I determined to pt its res-
cue, and succeeded in restoring the infant to its mother,
who having leﬁ it for an instant, was retraing to it in
an agony of distress. 1
“ My honour was now redeem and cowardice
could no longer be charged upon . I returned to
the battery, when every person congratulated me. A
chief of a battalion promised me a cross, which, he
had, however, been unable to procure for himself for
forty years, because he had always had the bad luck to
get always behind, and never in front of, the cannon,
I was now in a fair way of getting renown, and oppor—
tunities presented perpetually. There were mediators
appointed between England and France to negociate for
peace. Lord Lauderdale was in Paris as plenipotelh
tiary, when the telegraph announced the bombardment
of Boulogne, which was but the second actto the attack
of Copenhagen. At this information, the emperor, in-
dignant at a causeless renewal of hostilities, sent for
lord L., reproached him with the perﬁdy of his cabinet,
and ordered him to quit France instantly. A fortnight
afterwards, lord Lauderdale arrived here at the Canon
d’Or. He was an Englishman, and the exasperated


nanorns or VIDOCQ. 69
people were desirous of revenging themselves on him :
they surrounded him, mobbed him, and pressed upon
him I; and in deﬁance of the protection of two ofﬁcers
who were attending him, they showered stones and
mud upon him from all = sides. Pale, trembling, and
faltering, the peer thought he was about to fall a sacri-
ﬁce, when sword in hrl'nd, I-cleared my way through the
rabble, crying ‘ Destruction to whoever strikes him l '
'I harangued the multitude, di rsed them, and led the
way to the harbour, where, w out being subjected to
ﬁirther insult, he embarkedbn board a ﬂag of truce
boat. He soon reached the English squadron, which
the next evening renewed the bombardment. The fol-
lowing night we were again on &he shore, and at one
o’clock the English, after throwing a few Congreve
rockets, suspended their ﬁring; and I, worn out with
toil, threw myself on a gun carriage, and slept soundly.
I know not how long my sleep lasted, but when I
awoke I was up to my neck in water, my blood was
frozen, my limbs stiffened, and my sight and memory
bewildered. Boulogne had changed its situation, and
I took the ﬁre of the ﬂotilla fbr that of the enemy.
It was the commencement of a lengthened malady,
during which I obstinately refused to go to the hospi-
tal. At length I was convalescent; but as I only re-
covered slowly, Iwas again named for the half-pay, and
this time was reduced against my own wish; for I had
now adopted the opinion of general Sarrazin.
' “ I had no lon r any wash to die in my bed, and
ap lying to my f the sense of the words, ‘ There is
on ' death for him that pauses,’—that I might not pause,
I commenced a career in which, without too painful
labours, there is a never-ceasing activity requisite.
Persuaded that I have but a short time to live, I am de-
termined to employ that time. I have turned rivateer,
and what risk do I run? I can but be ki led, and
have but little! to lose; in the mean while I want for
nothing, emotions of every sort; perils and pleasures ;
and now I never pause.”


7O memorns or vrnocq.
The reader will now judge what sort of men were
captain Paulet and his lieutenant. Scarcer had this
latter a breath left in his body, and yet in ﬁght, as
everywhere else, he was the leader. Sometimes he
was lost in dull thought, whence he roughly aroused
himself, his head giving the impetus to his system,
and he evinced a turbulence whlch was restrained by
no bounds. There was no extravagance, no wild sally
of which he was not ca able; and in this reckless state
of excitation, all was ared by him. He would have
scaled heaven itself. I cannot tell all the ranks he
played at the ﬁrst banrgluet to which Dufailli had pre-
sented me. Sometimes e proposed one scheme, some-
times another; at length he bethought him of the
theatre. “ What do they play to night ?”—“ ‘ Misan-
thropy and Repentance.’ ” ’l‘ “ I prefer the ‘ Two Bro-
thers.’ Comradesl _ which of you is in a snivelling
mood ‘P The captain weeps every year at his festival,
we fellows know nothing of such joys. They are con-
ﬁned to the fathers of families? Do fyou ever go to
the play, captain ? You should go; or there will be
all the world there. All the fashionables, shrimp girls
in silken gowns; the nobility of the land. Oh God!
heaven itself is struck to see sows in ruﬂies. Never
mind; these ladies must have their play, though it
would be as well if they understood French. Oh, do go
and see them. I remember some ladies at the last ball,
who being asked to dance answered ‘I’m axed alrea.
dy.’ ”—“ Come, come, will you never hold your gabble?"
said Paulet to his lieutenant, whom none of the men
had interrupted. “ Captain,” he replied, “ I have
made a motion, and no one has answered me ; nobody
wants to snivel. Well, good by; I will go and blubber
alone.”
Fleuriot immediately went out, and the captain
then commenced his eulogy. “ He has,” said he, “ a
burning brain, but for courage he‘-is not equalled by
" The ‘Stranger' of the English Stage—Translator.


manoms or vmoco. 71
any man under heaven.” He then informed 113\h0W
he was indebted to the daring of Fleuriot for the cap-
ture he had just made. The recital was animated and
well told, in s ite of Paulet’s manner, who had a
strange way 0 pronunciation, and who informed us
that he had knocked out the brains of a dozen
Englishmen with a hand-spike. The evening ad-
vanced, and Paulet, who had not seen his wife and
children, was about to retire, when Fleuriot returned.
He was not alone. “ Captain,” said he, entering,
“what think you of this agreeable sailor I have just
engaged? I think that red cap was never placed over
a prettier countenance.”-—“ True,” replied Paulet,
“ but is it a cabin-boy you have brought us? He has
no beard. Parbleu ! ” he added, raising his voice, “it
is a woman! ” Then continuing, with more strongly
expressed astonishment, “ If I am not mistaken, it is the
Saint " *—“ Yes,” repliedFleuriot, “it is Eliza,
the amiable and better half of the manager of the
company which now enchants Boulogne; she has come
to congratulate us upon our late good fortune.”—
“Madame amongst privateers!” said the captain,
casting on the disguised actress a look of contempt
but too expressive of his thoughts. “I compliment
her taste; she will hear agreeable conversation; the
devil must possess her! A woman, too !”—“ Come,
come, captain,” cried Fleuriot, “privateers are not
cannibals, they will not eat her up. Besides, you
know, the old ditty:
‘ She loves a laugh; she loves a glass;
‘ She loves a song; a jolly lass.’
What harm is there in it ?”—“ None; only the season
is propitious for a cruise; my crew are all well, and we
were in no want of madame to improve their health.”

1' The name had nearly escaped my pen; but the husband
of the lady in question has been for some time manager of
one of our theatres in the capital. He is living, and my
discretion will be commended.


72 MEMOIRS OF VIDOCQ.
At these words, signiﬁcantly uttered, Eliza cast her
eyes on the ground. “ My dear girl, do not blush,”
said Fleuriot, “ the captain is only jesting.”—“ Not I,
by Neptune; I never jest; I remember the Saint
Napoleon, when the whole staﬂ', beginning with mar-
shal Brune, was in commotion; there was no small
battling in that day: madame knows all about it, the
how, the when, the why, and the wherefore, and will
not wish me to be more explicit.”
Eliza, humbled by this language, did not repent
however of having accompanied Fleuriot; during her
agitation, she attempted to justify her appearance at
the ‘ Lion d’Argent ’ with that softness of tone, those
insinuating manners, that mildness of countenance,
which seem so foreign to licentious behaviour; she
talked of admiration, glory, valour, heroism, &c., that
she might make way in Paulet’s estimation; she ap-
pealed to his gallantry, and called him a ‘ehevalier
Franeais.’ Flattery has more or less inﬂuence over
every mind, and Paulet’s language became more
polished; he excused himself aswell as possible,
obtained Eliza’s pardon, and took leave of his com-
rades, recommending them to amuse themselves,
though there was no fear of growing dull. As for
me, I could not keep my eyes open, and I went to
my bed, where I heard and saw nothing. Next day
I arose, recruited and in spirits, and Fleuriot took me
to the owner, who, on the strength of my appearance,
advanced me a few ﬁve-franc pieces. A week after-
wards, seven of our comrades were in the hospital.
The name of the actress, Saint , had disappeared
from the play-bill, and we learnt that she had proﬁtted
by the offer of part of a post-chaise, belonging to a
colonel who, tormented by a thirst of gaming even to
the risking the very epaulets of his uniform, had gone
05' express to Paris.
I awaited with anxiety the moment of our em.
barkation. The ﬁve-franc ieces of M. Choisnard
were spent, and if they al owed me to live, they


-nauoms 0r vmocq. 73
scarcely permitted me to cut any ﬁgure; besides, on
shore 1 daily ran the risk of some unpleasant ren-
contre. Boulogne was infested with a great many
bad fellows: Mansui, Tribout, Salé, were carrying on
their trade in the port, where they despoiled the
conscripts under the orders of another thief named
Canivet, who, in the face of the army and its com-
mander, ventured to call himself the Decapitator
(bourreau des cranes.) I think I still see the legend
on his police-cap, where were depicted a death’s head,
swords, and thigh-bones crossed. Canivet was the
collector, or rather lord paramount, and had a large
number of sub-agents, cabin-boys, and petty fellows
who payed him a tax for the privilege of thieving: he
watched them incessantly, and if he suspected them
of deceiving him, he generally chastised them with his
sword. I thought it likely that in this gan there
might be some fugitive from the gallies, and feared
recognition. My apprehensions were the better
founded, as I had heard a report that many freed
galley slaves had been placed either in the corps of
sappers, or that of the military workmen in the ﬂeet.
For some time nothing was talked of but murders,
assassinations, robberies; and all those crimes were
evidences of the presence of hardened villains, amongst
whom, perchance, might be some with whom I had
com ulsorily associated when at Toulon. It was
abso utely necessary to avoid them; for to come again
in contact would have given me much trouble, from'
the diﬁiculty of not compromising myself. Robbers
are like women; when we would escape their vices
and their society, all league against us to prevent it;
all seek to retain the comrade who would ﬂy from
evil; and it is a glory for them to keep him in the
abject state whence they themselves wish not to be
emancipated, nor would allow others to escapes
] recalled to mind the comrades who denounced me
at Lyons, and the motives that induced them to have ‘
me apprehended. As my experience was fresh, I was
VOL. II. B


74 msmoms or vmoco»
very naturally inclined to proﬁt by it, and be on my
guard; and consequeptly went into the streets as ,
seldom as possible, the passed nearly all my timein
the lower town, at madame Henri’s, where the pri-
vateers boarded, and were accommodated with credit
on the strength of their perspective priZes. Madame
Henri, supposing she had ever been a wife, was now
a good-looking widow, and still attractive, though she
owned to thirty-six: she had two charming girls, who,
without forgetting themselves, yet gave hopes to every
jolly lad Whom fortune favoured. Whoever spent his
money in the house was a welcome guest, and he who
squandered most was always ﬁrst in estimation with
the mother and da hters, as long as his profusion
lasted. The hand 0 these girls had been promised
twenty times; twenty times had they been betrothed,
and yet their re utations for virtue had never been
blown upon. T ey were free in conversation, but
reserved in manners; and although their purity of
mind was not unsullied, yet no one could boast of
having induced them to commit a faux-pas. Yet how
many naval heroes had been subdued by the power of
their charms! How many aspirants, deceived by
their unmeaning coquetries, had ﬂattered themselves
on a predilection which was to lead them to so much
bliss! And then, how could one not be mistaken
as to the real sentiments of these chaste Dianas,
whose perpetual amiability seemed to give the pre-
ference to the person last looked upon? The hero
of to-day was feasted, fondled; a thousand little at-
tentions were evinced, certain little peculiar privileges
permitted,—a kiss, for instance, on the sly; a seducing
glance of the eye: economical advice was freely be-
stowed, whilst seeking to procure something extra-
vagant; they regulated the expenditure'of his money,
and as funds grew low, which was a matter of course,
they learned the fact of approaching penury by the
well-timed proffer of a tem rary loan; it was rarely
refused, and without evincmg indifference or disgust,


Mamoms or vmoco. 75
they only expected that necessity and love would send
the inamorato to seek new perils. But scarcely was
the wind in the sail of' the ship of the lover, and he
was calculating the happy chances which would ulti-
mately lead to a marriage, and the small loan which
he had vowed to return an hundred fold, when already
was his place ﬁlled by some other fortunate mortal;
so that in madame Henri’s house, the lovers were con-
stantly succeeding each other, and her two girls were
like two citadels, which, always besieged, and always
on the point of surrender in appearance, yet never
yielded. When one raised the siege, another attacked
the spot; there was illusion for all, and nothin but
illusion. Cecile, one of madame Henri’s daug ters,
had passed her twentieth year; she was a merr one,
a great laugher, and would listen without blushmg to
the broadest joke; and denied only the ﬁnal surrender
of the fort. Hortense, her sister, was much like her,
only younger, and her character more natural; she
sometimes said strange things; but it seemed as if
honey and orange-ﬂower water ﬂowed in the veins of
these two females, for they were so mild and gentle
on all occasions. There was no inﬂammable material
in their hearts, although they showed no rcpugnance
to a pressing proposal, and evinced no astonishment
at the familiarity of a sailor; yet, be it said, they did
not the less deserve the surname bestowed on the
shepherdess of Vaucouleurs, as well as on a little
town of Picardy.
It was at the ﬁre-side of this amiable family that I
seated myself for a month, with a constancy that
astonished myself, dividing my hours between piquet,
cribbage, and mild ale. The inactivity of my life was
irksome, but at last it ceased: Paulet was desirous
of resuming his cruise, and we set sail ; but the nights
were not dark enough, and the days had become too
long. All our captures were limited to a few poor
coal-brigs, and a sloop of no value; on board which
we found lord Somebody, who, in the hopes of regain-


76 MEMOIRS OF \‘IDOCQ-
\
ing his appetite, had undertaken a sea voyage, accom-
panied by his cock. He was sent to spend his money
and eat his trout at Verdun.
The dull Season was at hand, and we had as yet
made no prizes. The captain was as moody and dull
as a country whippingpost. Fleuriot was entirely out
of patience, swore and raved from morning till night,
and from night till morning was in a tempest of rage;
all the crew were quite out of sorts Ste use a vulgar
expression), and I think we were al in a humour
which would have led us on to attack a ﬁrst-rate mau-
of-war. It was midnight, and we had just left a small
ba near Dunkirk, and were steering towards the Eng-
lis coast, when, by the light of the moon, which burst-
ing forth from the thick clouds, cast her brilliant rays
on the waves, at a short distance we saw a sail. It
was a brig of war which was ploughing the glittering
wave. Paulet instantly discerned it. “ My lads,” he
cried, “it is our own; every man lie down on his face,
and I will answer for our success." In an instant we
'boarded her. The English crew fought bravely, and a
bloody struggle ensued on the deck. Fleuriot, who
according to custom was the ﬁrst to board, fell amongst
the number of the dead. Paulet was wounded, but was
avenged; and well avenged his lieutenant also. He
struck down all who faced him, and never did Iwitness.
such a scene of slaughter. In less than ten minutes we
were masters of the ship, and the tri-coloured ﬂag was
hoisted in the place of the red ﬂag. Twelve of our
crew had fallen in the action, in which an equal despe-
ration was testiﬁed on both sides.
Amongst those who fell was one Lebel, whose resem-
blance to me was so striking, that it daily caused the
most singular mistakes. I called to mind that my
“ Sosia” had regular credentials, and it occurred to me
that Ishould do wrong to let slip so favourable an op-
portunity. Lebel had become food for the ﬁshes, and
consequently had no farther need of a passport, which
would stand me in the greatest stead.


manoms or V: nocq. '77
The idea appeared to me admirable. I only had one
cause of fear, which was that Lebel might have left his
pocket-book with the owner of the privateer. I was over-7
joyed at discovering it about his person, and immediately
took possession of 'it without being discovered by any
person; and when they threw into the sea the sacks
of sand in which the dead bodies were put that they
might the more readily sink, I felt myself lightened of
a great weight, thinking that at length I had got rid of
that Vidocq who had played me so many scurvy tricks.
However, I was not completely assured, for Du.
failli, who was our master-at-arms, knew my name.
This circumstance annoyed me; and that I ' ht have
nothing to dread from him, I determined to let im into
my secret by sOme retended conﬁdence. My precau-
tion was useless. called for Dufailli and sought him
in every part of the vessel, but found him not; I went
on board'the ‘Revanche’~ and looked'for him, called
to him, but no answer was given; I went down ,to the
powder room, but no Dufailli. What could have be-
come of him? I went to the spirit room; near a barrel
of gin and some bottles I saw an extended body; it
was he. I shook him, turned him on his back—he
was -breathless-—livid—-dead. ‘
Such was the end of my protector: a congestion of
the brain, a sudden apoplexy, or instantaneous choking
caused by intoxication, had terminated his career.
Since the ﬁrst creation of marine serjeants, never was
there one who got drunk with such consistent regula»
larity and unremitting perseverance. A single trait chap
racterised him, and this prince of drunkards related the
circumstance as the most delighful event of his life. It
occurred on Twelfth-day. Dufailli had drawn king;
and to honour his royalty, his comrades seated him on
a handbarrow borne by four gunners. On each side
of him were placed bottles of brandy for distribution ;
and elevated on this temporary alanquin, Dufailli
made a. halt before every booth in the camp, where he
drank, and made others drink, amidst overwhelming
/ n 2


78 MEMOIRS OI" VIDOCQ.
shouts. These rejoicings were so often repeated, that
at last his head became giddy; and his ephemeral ma—
jesty, introduced to a public house, swallowed without
scarcely tasting it, a pound of bacon, which he mistook
for Gruyere cheese. The meat was indigestible; and
anailli, conducted back to his barrack, threw himself
on his bed, when he soon begun to experience a most
violent convulsion of the stomach, and in vain did he
strive to repress the event that followed. The crisis
over, he fell asleep, and was only awakened from his‘
lethargic stupor by the growling of a dog and the noise
of a cat, who were quarrelling in his room l O dignity
of human nature, where wert thou! Such was the
lesson of temperance which the Spartans gave
their children, by making their slaves drunken, and
then pointing out the eﬂ'ect of their excesses to
them. 1
I have delaved an instant, to give the last and ﬁnishing
touch to my ellow-countryman. He is no more. Peace
be to his manes I Returned on board the brig, where
Paulet had left me with the captain of the prize and ﬁve
men of the crew of the ‘ Revanche,’ scarcely had we
closed the hatchways on our prisoners, than we begun
coasting our way into Boulogne ; but some reports of
the cannon ﬁred by the English before we had- boarded,
had summoned one of their frigates, which bore down
upon us, crowding all sail; and was soon so near
that several shots passedpver us, and we were pursued
as far as Calais, when the swell of the sea becoming
-very great, and a stormy wind blowing on shore, we
thought she would ' sheer off for fear of getting
amongst the breakers; but she was no longer under
control, and driven towards land had to contend at
once ,with all the violence of the elements. To run
aground was her only chance of safety, but that was
.not attempted. In a. moment the frigate was impelled
beneath the cross ﬁres of the Batteries de la Cote de Fer,
‘of' the jetty, and of Fort Rouge} and from every quarter
there came a shower of bombs, chain-shot and grape.


MEMOIRS OF VIDOCQ.~
Amidst the horrible noise of a thousand shots, a cry of
distress was heard, and the frigate sank without any
possibility of succour being afforded.
An hour afterwards it was daylight; and in the
distance we saw several fragments ﬂoating. A man
and woman were tied to a mast, and waved a hand-
kerchief, which we saw just as we were doubling Cape
Grenet. I thought we could rescue these unfortunate
beings, and proposed the attempt to the commander
90f the prize; and on his refusal to allow us the use of
the jolly-boat, in a rage, I threatened to break his
skull. “Well,” said he, with a disdainful smile, and
shrugging his shoulders, “captain Paulet is more
humane than you; he has seen them, but does not
stir about it because it is useless. They are there,
and we are here, and every one for himself in bad
weather; we have suffered quite loss enough, if it
were only Fleuriot.”
This answer restored me to my natural coolness,
and made me understand that we ourselves were in
greater danger than I had imagined. In fact, the
waves evinced it; over our heads were gulls and
divers, mingling their piercing cries with the shrill
whistling of the north wind; in the horizon, darkening
more and more, were long black and red streaks; the
face of heaven was disﬁgured, and all betokened the
impending tempest. Fortunately, Paulet had skilfully.
calculated time and distance; we failed in reaching
Boulogne harbour, but found shelter and anchor e at
Portel, not far from thence. On going ashoreaﬁere,
we saw lying on the strand the two unfortunates
whom [would have succoured; the ﬂow of the tide
had cast them lifeless on a foreign shore, on which
we gave them burial. They‘had been lovers perhaps,
and I was touched at their fate,- but other cares
diminished my regrets. All the population of the
village, women, children, and old men, were assembled
on the coast. The families of a hundred and ﬁfty
ﬁshermen were in despair at seeing their frail barks


rumours or VIDOCQ. _ 81
CHAPTER XX.
am admitted into the marina artillery-J become a corporal-
Sever) prisoners of war—Secret societies of the army. ‘The
()lympiens ’-—Singular duels—Meeling with a galley slave—
TLie count de L— a political spy—He disappears—The incen-
diary—I am promised promotion—l am betrayed—Once more
in prison—Disbanding of the armeé de la Lune—The pardoned
soldier—A companion is sentenced to be shot—The Piedmontele
bandit—The camp fortune-teller — Four murderers set at
liberty. -
I RETURNED to Boulogne the same evening; where I
learnt that, in consequence of an order from the
general in command, all the individuals who, in each
corps, were marked as black sheep, were to be imme-
diately arrested, and sent on board the cruisers. It
was a sort of press which was intended to purge the
army, aad to check its demoralization, which had
increased to an alarming extent. Thus I judged it
best to quit the ‘ Revanche,’ on board which, to re_-
pair the losses of the late ﬁght, the owner did not
fail to send some of the men whom the general had
deemed it expedient to get rid of. Since Canivet and
his myrmidons were no longer in the camp, I thought
there could be no ill result if I again turned soldier.
Furnished with Lebel’s papers, I entered a company
of gunners, then employed in coast service; and as
Lebel had formerly been a corporal in this division,
I obtained that rank on the ﬁrst vacancy; that is, a.
fortnight after my enrolment. Regular behaviour,
and a perfect knowledge of my duties, with which I
was well acquainted, as an artillery-man of the old
school, soon acquired for me the favour of my ofﬁcers;
and a circumstance which might have gone greatly
against me, still farther conciliated them towards me.
I was on guard at the fort of Eure, during the
spring-tides, and the weather was excessively bad;


82 MEMOIRS or VIDOCQ.
mountains of water were dashed over the platform with
so much violence, that the thirty-six pounders were
shaken from the embrasures, and, at the dash of every
wave, it seemed as if the whole fort was rent to
pieces. Until the Channel should be calmer, it was
evident that no ship would dare to Venture out; and
night having come on, I did not station sentinels, but
allowed the soldiers to remain ,in bed until next day.
I watched for them, or rather I could not sleep, as I
had no need of repose; when, about three in the
morning, some words which I knew to be English,
struck on my ear; at the same time, a knocking com-
menced at a door under the steps, leading to the bat-
tery. I thought we were surprised, and immediately
roused everybody. I put them under arms, and had
already determined 0n selling my life dearly, when]
heard a woman’s voice, who supplicated our aid. _ I
soon heard distinctly these words in French: “ Open,
We have been shipwrecked l” I wavered an instant,
and then with due precaution and a determination to
sacriﬁce the ﬁrst who on entering should betray any
hostile intent, I opened the door and saw a woman,
an infant, and ﬁve sailors, all more dead than alive.
My ﬁrst care was to have them all placed before a
roaring ﬁre, for, they were dri ping with wet and al-
most motionless from cold. y men and I lent them
shirts and clothing; and as soon as the were a little
revived, they told us the accident to w 'ch their visit
to us was attributable. Having sailed for the Havam
nah, in a three-masted vessel, and on the point of
ﬁnishing a prosperous voyage, they had dashed upon
the mole of our pier, and only esca ed death by throw-
ing themselves on our battery mm the main-top.
Nineteen of their crew, amongst whom was the cap-
tain, had perished in the waves.
The sea still blockaded us for seVeral days, without
any boat daring to venture out to us. At the end of
the time, I was rowed on shore with m wrecked
sailors, whom I conducted myself to the c ief oﬁicer


84 manorns or Vinucq.
The ()lympien who got romotion was to exert all
his inﬂuence to ensure t e iromotion of the brother
Olym icns who were in in erior ranks. To be re-
ceive , if belonging to the navy, it was necessary to
be at least a volunteer of the second class; and at
most, captain of a ship: if serving on land, _the limits
were, from a colonel to an adjutant, subaltern inclu-
sive. I have never understood that, in their societies,
the Olympiens ever discussed questions concerning the
conduct of the government; but they proclaimed
e uality and brotherhood; and pronounced discourses
w ich greatly contrasted with the imperial doctrines.
At Boulogne, the Olympiens constantly met at the
house of a madame Hervieux, who kept a kind of
coffee-house, but little frequented. It was there that
they kept their meetings, and installed their members
in a room consecrated to that purpose.
There was at the Military as well as at the Poly-
technic Schools, lodges which were united with the
Olympiens. In general, the initiation was conﬁned to_
pass-words, signs, and tokens, which were taught to
the members on entrance; but the real adepts knew
and looked for other things. The symbol of the soci-
et sufﬁciently explains their intentions :—an arm,
With the hand grasping a dagger, was emerging from a
cloud; above was a bust reversed. It was that of
Caesar. This symbol, which is easily explained, was
imprinted on the seal of their diplomas. This seal
had been modelled in relief by an artillery-man named
Beaugrand, or Belgrand; and the brass stamp was.
procured by means of welding and cutting.
To be received as an Olympien, a proof of courage
was required, as well as of talent and discretion. Sol-
diers of distinguished merit were those who had the
preference of enrolment. As much as possible it was
endeavoured to attract to the society the sons of pa-
triots who had protested 'nst the erection of the
imperial throne, or who ha been persecuted. Under


Msttoiiis or “ﬂood. 85
the empire, it was enough to belong to a family of
non-contents, to be at once placed on the list of ad-
missibles.
The real chiefs of the association were in the shade,
and never communicated their projects. They plotted
the overthrow of despotism, but admitted no person
to their conﬁdence. It was necessary that the men,
by whose intervention they hoped to accomplish their
ends, should be conspirators without knowing it. No
one Was ever to propose to them to join a conspiracy,
but they were voluntarily to lend their power and in-
clination. It was by virtue of this combination, that
the Olympiens at length included in their numbers the
lowest ranks of the army and navy.
If a subaltem or soldier evinced talent, energy, ﬁrm-
ness, independence, and spirit, the Olympiens sought
him as a recruit, and he soon entered the brotherhood,
or was bound by the inﬂuence of an oath to afford to
them, as far as in him lay, “help and protection.” The
reciprocal support which was promised seemed to be
the sole bond of the fraternity; but there was, beneath
this seeming, a concealed but no less determined pre-
meditation. It was found, after long experience, that
out of one hundred individuals admitted, scarcely ten
obtained a promotion proportioned to their merits:
thus, amongst a hundred individuals, it was probable
that, in a few years, ninety at least would be found 0
posed to the order of things in which it was impossib e
to advance a step. It was the sum of wisdom to have
such men classed under a common denomination; men
amongst whom it was certain that sooner or later a
spirit of discontent would arise; men quite irritated
and worn out by neglect or injustice, who would not
hesitate to seize with eagerness on any op ortunity of
revenge. Thus was a league fomented, wliich had an
existence of which it was itself unconscious. The ele-
ments of conspiracy were brought together, perfected-
themselves, and became more and more developed;
but no conspirators_were to be known or thought of until
I


86 marrow: or vxnocq.
the conspiracy should be ripe for perpetration. They
awaited a propitious moment.
The Olympiens preceded the Philadelphes by many
years, and were at length united with them. The ori-
gin of their society is somewhat prior to the coronation
of Napoleon. It is said that they were ﬁrst united on
the occasion of the disgrace of admiral Truguet, who
was deprived because he had voted against the perpe-
tual consulate. After the condemnation of Moreau,
the —society, constituted on a more extended basis
included a great many men of Britanny and Franche
Compfé. Amongst t ese latter was Oudet, who un-
folded to the Olympiens the ﬁrst idea of Philadelphy.
The Olympiens existed for two years without giving
any cause of uneasiness to the government. At len h,
in 1806, M. Devilliers, commissary-general of po be
at Boulogne, wrote to Fouché to denounce their meet-
ings. He did not signalize them as dangerous; but he
thought it his duty to have them watched, and. having
no agent with him to whom he could conﬁde such a
duty, he consequently begged the minister _to send to
Boulogne one of those expert spies which a politic po-
lice always has in pa . The minister replied to the
Commissary-general, t anking him cordially for his zeal
for the emperor’s service, but stating that he had long
had his eye on the Olympiens, as well as on many si-
milar fraternities; that the government was suﬂiciently
strong not to fear any conspiracies they might engen-
der; and that, besides, they could not have any schemes
but some crotchets of ideology, for which the em-
peror cared nothing; and that, according to all appear-
ances, the Olympiens were but dreaming speculists,
and their union only one of those masonic puerilities
invented by some fools to amuse others.
This security of Fouché was but feigned; for scar-
cely had he received the information which M. Devil-
liers had transmitted, than he sent for the younv comte
de L"*, who was initiated into the secrets 0? nearly
every society in Europe. He thus addressed him.


mamoms or vrnoco. 8’7
“ They write me from Boulogne, that a sort of secret
association has been formed in the army under the
title of ‘ Olympiens.’ I am not informed of the objects
of the society, but they tell me that its ramiﬁcations
are most extensive. Perha s they have some bond 0
union with the ‘ Conciliab es ’ who met at the houses
of Bernadotte and de Stae'l. I know well enough what
passes there: Garat, who thinks me his friend, and
who has the goodness to an pose me still a patriot as
I was in 93, tells me everytlimg. There are some Jai
cobins who imagine that I regret the republic, and
would do all in my power to restore it : they are the
fools whom I exile or lace as may suit me,—-Truguet,
Rousselin, Ginguené orm no plan, say no word, of
which I am not informm. They are gentry not very
formidable; like all the Moreau gang, they talk much,
and do little. However, for some time, they think
they must have a party in the army; and it is neces-
sary that I should know their plans: the Olympiens
are perhaps their creation. It would be well that you
should become an Olym ien; you will disclose to me
the secrets of these gent emen, and I shall then know
what steps to take.”
The count de L"* told Fouché, that the roposed
mission was a delicate aﬁ‘air; that the 0 ympiens
would probabl only receive members after they had
been convince of their ﬁdelity and ﬁtness; and that,
besides, no one would be admitted to the brotherhood,
who did’ not belong to the army. Fouché reﬂected a
moment on these obstacles, and then said—“ I have
hit on a mode of causing you to be instantly admitted.
Go to Genes ; you will there ﬁnd a'detachment of Li-
gurian conscripts, who are under orders for Boulogne,
to be incorporated in the eighth regiment of foot artil-
lery. Amongst them is a count Boccardi, for whom
his family have vainly endeavoured to procure a sub-
stitute. You shall offer to supply the place of the
noble Genese; and, to remove all difﬁculties, I give
you a certiﬁcate, stating that you have, under the name


88
MRMOIRS OF VIDOCQ.
of Bertrand, satisﬁed the laws of conscription. Thus
you will be put in a straightforward path, and will
march with the detachment. On reaching Boulogne,
you will see your colonel,* a fanatic in masonry, illu-
minatism, hermetism, &c. You must tell him who
you are; and, as you have rank, he will be sure to
protect you. You can then tell him all concerning
your origin that you may choose, and, that may aid
your plans. This conﬁdence will at ﬁrst do away with
the sort of mistrust that is usually shewn to a substi-
tute, and 'will ultimately procure you the regard of the
' other oﬁicers. But it is indispensable that you should
make them believe that you have turned soldier on
compulsion. Under your real name _you were exposed
to persecution from the emperor; and, to escape pro-
_ scription, you had concealed yourself in a regiment.
This is your tale,‘ which will circulate throughout the
camp, and no one will doubt but that you are the vic_-
tim and enemy of the imperial system. I have n0-
' .occasion to enter into longer details; the consequences
will naturally ensue ;—besides, I rely much,—entirely,
on your sagacity.”
Thus instructed, the count de L*** set out for
Italy, and soon afterwards he entered France with the
Ligurian conscripts. Colonel Aubry received him like
a brother after a long absence, dispensed with his-mili-
tary drillings, assembled the lodge of the regiment to
receive and feast him, and showed him every attention;
authorising him to wear plain clothes; and treated him,
in a word, with the greatest distinction.
In a few days the army knew that M. Bertrand was
a “ somebody.” They could not give him epaulets,
but he was nominated sergeant; and the ofﬁcers for-
getting, in his case only, that he was in the inferior
ranks of a military hierarchy, did not hesitate to admit
* Colonel Aubry, inspector-general of artillery, who fell
in his thirty-third year. He died a few days after the battle
of Dresden, in which his two legs were carried off by a shot.


mmoms or nnoco. 89
him to an intimacy. M. Bertrand was the oracle of
the corps: he was intelligent and full of information,
and the were disposed to consider him more witty
and wel -informed than he really was. However, he
soon got acquainted with several Olympiens, who each
desired the peculiar honour of introducing him to the
fraternity. M.'Bertrand was initiated, and as soon as
he succeeded in establishing a communication with the
Olympien leaders, he forwarded his reports to the
minister of the police.
What I have related of the society of the Olympiens
and of M. Bertrand, was told me by M. Bertrand him~
self; and to conﬁrm the veracity of my statement, it
will not, perhaps, be superﬂuous to say, how he was
led to conﬁde to me the mission with which he was
charged, and to reveal to me those circumstances, of
which mention is here made for the ﬁrst time.
Nothing was more common at Boulogne than
duelling; and the mania had extended even to the
dull and peaceable Netherlanders of the ﬂotilla, under
the orders of admiral Werhwel. There was not far
from the camp on the left, at the foot of a hill, a small
wood, which could be passed at no hour without
observing on the turf a dozen individuals engaged in
what they called an affair of honour. It was here
that a celebrated amazon, the demoiselle Div***. fell
under the sword of aquondam lover, colonel Camb***,
who, not recognizing her in her male attire, had
accepted from her a challenge to single combat. The
demoiselle Div'", whom he had forsaken for another,
had wished to perish beneath his hand.
P One day I was casting my'eyes on this scene of
bloody encounter, from the extremity of the left camp
which eopled the extensive plain, when I saw at
some distance from the little wood two men, one of
whom was advancing towards the other, who was
retreating across the plain. B the white trowsers
I knew the champions were Ho anders, and I paused
a moment to look at them. Soon the assailant retro-
1 2


90 mamoms or VIDOCQ.
graded in his turn, and then, mutually alarmed, they
both retreated, brandishing their sabres; one, plucking
up a little courage, made a thrust at his adVersary,
and then pursued him to the brink of a ditch which
he was unable to leap; Both then throwing down
their swords, a pugilistic combat commenced between
the heroes, who thus decided their uarrel: I was
greatly amused at this comic duel, w en I saw near
a farm where we sometimes went to eat ‘ codiau ’ (a
kind of white soup made with ﬂourand eggs two
individuals who, stripped'to the skin, were' ready
prepared, sword in hand, attended by their seconds,
who were respectively a quarter-master of the tenth
regiment of dragoons and a forager of artillery. The
weapons soon crossed, and the smaller of the two
combatants, who was an artillery seijeant, skipped
about in a very singular manner, and having traversed
in a strange way at least ﬁfty aces, I thought he
must be infallibly run through, w en in an instant he
disappeared, as if the earth had opened and swallowed
him up, and a loud burst of laughter succeeded. After
the ﬁrst shoutings of this noisy mirth, the seconds
approached, and I observed that they stooped down.
Impelled by a feeling of curiosity, I went towards the
spot, and arrived just in time to help them in pulling
out from a hole dug for the formation of a large hog-
trough, the poor devil whose sudden disappearance
had so greatly astonished me. He was almost lifeless,
and covered with mire from head to feet. The air
soon brought him back to his senses, but he was afraid
to breathe; he dared not open his eyes or mouth, so
foul was the liquid in which he had been plunged.
In this woful plight, the ﬁrst words that saluted his
ears were jokes. Feeling disgusted at such unfeeling
conduct, I yielded to my just indignation, and darted
at his antagonist one of those signiﬁcant glances which
between soldier and soldier need no interpreter.
“Enough,” said he, “I am ready for you ;” and
scarcely was I on my guard, when on the arm which


manoms or VIDOCQ. 91
held the foil, to which I had opposed mine, I saw a
tattooing which I thought was not unknown to me.
It was the ﬁgure of an anchor, of which the stem was
encircled by the folds of a serpent. “I see the tail,”
I exclaimed, “ take care of the head ;” and with this
'word of advice I thrust at my man, and hit him on the
right breast. “ I am wounded,” he then said,- “ that
is ﬁrst blood.”--“ It is,” said I, “ ﬁrst blood ;” and
without another word I began to tear my shirt to
staunch the blood that ﬂowed from his wound. I
necessarily exposed his breast, where, as I had judged,
Isaw the head of the serpent, which was delineated
as if gnawing the extremity of his bosom. ,
Observing how earnestly I alternately examined his
features and this mark, my adversary seemed to grow
uneasy; but I hastened to assure him, by these words
which I whispered in his ear: “I know you; but fear
nothing, I am discreet.”—“I know you too,” he re-
plied, squeezing my hand, “ and 1 will be also silent.”
e who thus promised secrecy was a fugitive galley-
slave from the Bagne of Toulon. He told me his
assumed name, and stated that he was principal
quarter-master of the 10th dragoons, where in ex-
pense he surpassed all the ofﬁcers of his re 'ment.
Whilst this mutual recognition was t ing place,
the individual whose cause I had espoused as the
champion of his wrongs, was, endeavouring to wash
off in a‘rivulet the thic est of the ﬁlth which covered
him, and he soon returned to us, and all were now
quiet and well behaved, so that there were no longer
any grounds of difference, and the inclination for
laughter was turned into an uncommon wish for
reconciliation.
The rincipal quarter-master, whom I had wounded
but sliglitly, proposed that we should ratif articles of
peace at the Canon d’Or,‘ where they ad always
ready excellent stewed eels and ready-plucked poultry.
He there gave us a princely breakfast, which was kept
up till supper came, for which his adversary paid.


92 MEMOIRS or vrnocq.
On our separation, the quarter-master made me
promise to meet him again, and the serjeant would
not be contented unless I accompanied him home.
This serjeant was M. Bertrand, who lodged in the
upper town, in the house of a superior oﬂicer. As
soon as we were alone, he testiﬁed his gratitude with
all the warmth of which he was capable; for aﬁer
drinking, a coward who has been rescued from peril
may evince some feeling. He made me offers of any
kind of service, and as I would accept of none, he
said, “ You think, perhaps, that I have no inﬂuence ;
I should be but a paltry protector, certainly, comrade,
if I had only the power of a subaltem; but that is
because I do not wish to be otherwise. I have no
ambition, and all the Olympiens are like me; they
despise the miserable distinction which rank confers.”
I asked who the Olympiens were? “ They are,” he
replied, “men who adore liberty, and seek equality:
will you be an Olympien? For if so, say the word,
and you shall be admitted instantly.”
I thanked M. Bertrand, adding, that I did not see
any necessity.to enrol myself in a society to which
the attention of the police would be drawn sooner or
later. “ You are right,” he replied, and then with
earnestness added, “ do not enter, for it will go badly
with them.” He then gave me details concerning the
Olympiens, which I have already inserted in these
Memoirs; and, as if impelled by the feeling of con-
ﬁdential communication which champagne so peculiarly
excites, he told me, under the seal of secresy, the
object of his mission to Boulogne.
After this ﬁrst interview, I continued to see M.
Bertrand, who remained for some time in his oﬁice of
‘spy,’ until the period having arrived when he was .
sufﬁciently instructed, he asked and procured a
months’ leave of absence, being about, as he said, to
obtain a considerable estate; but at the expiration of
the month M. Bertrand did not return, and the report
spread that he had carried off the sum of 12,000 francs,


94 MEMOIRS or vrnoco.
The crews of the two ships perished. One man only
Was saved, and that most miraculously. He was a
common sailor, and at the time of the explosion in
the main-top ; the mast to which he clung was carried
almost to the clouds, and then fell perpendicularly
into the basin of the harbour, which was dry, and
planted itself to a depth of more than six feet. The
sailor was found alive, but had lost both sight and
hearing, which‘he never after recovered.
At Boulogne, these coincidences were the theme
of general conversation. The doctors pretended that
these simultaneous suicides were the result of a pecu-
liar affection emanating from the atmosphere. They
appealed, by way of proof, to an observation made at
Vienna, where, the previous summer, a great many
young girls, impelled by a sort of frenzy, had thrown
themselves into the river on the same day.
Some persons thought they could explain what
appeared most extraordinary in this circumstance, by
saying, that most commonly one suicide, when very
generally talked of, is followed by two or three others.
In fact, the public 'understood the cause the less,
inasmuch as the police, which feared to allow any-
thing to appear that could characterise the opposition
to the imperial regime, designedly circulated the
wildest reports; and recautions were so well taken,
that in this instance the name of Olympien was not
once pronounced in the camps: but the real origin
of these tragic events was in the denunciations of
M. Bertrand. ‘ Doubtless, he was recompensed, al-
though I know not in what manner; but what up ears
most probable is, that the minister of police, satisﬁed
with his services, continued to employ him; for, some
years afterwards, he was in Spain, in the regiment
of lsembourg, where, as a lieutenant, he was no less
thought of than Montmorenci, Saint-Simon, and other
oﬁ'springs of some of the most illustrious houses of
France, who' had been placed in this corps.
A short time alter the disappearance of M. Ber-


mamoms or VIDOCQ. 95'
trand, my company was sent to St Leonard, a small
village, at a league from Boulogne. There our duties
consisted in guarding a powder magazine, in which
was kept a large quantity of warlike stores and ammu-
nition. The service was not arduous, but the fort was
thought dangerous, as many sentinels had been mur-
dered on duty; and it was thought that the English
had a design of blowing up this depot. Some such
attempts, which had taken place in various posts, left
no doubt on the matter; and we had sufﬁcient reason,
therefore, for exercising unremitting vigilance.
One night, when it was my turn to keep guard, we
were suddenly roused by the report of a musket, and
every one was instantly on foot. I hastened, accord-
ing to custom, to relieve the guard, who was a con-
script, of whose courage there was some doubt; and,
on being questioned, I thought, from his answers, that
he had been needlessly alarmed. I then went round
the magazine, which was an old church; I had all
parts and places examined, but nothing was observable,
—no trace of any person. Persuaded, then, that it was
a false alarm, I reprimanded the conscript and threat-
ened him with the black-hole. However, on the
return of the relief-piquet, II interro ted him afresh;
and, from the assured tone wit which he as-
serted that he had seen some one, and by the details
he gave, I began to think that his terror was not so
causeless as I had imagined, and I consequently went
out, and going a second time towards the magazine, of
which I found the door ajar, I pushed it open, and on
entering, my eyes were struck with the faint glimmer~
ing of a light which projected from between two rows
of boxes ﬁlled with cartridges. I dashed along the
assage, and on reaching the extremityﬂ saw a lighted
amp beneath the lowest cask, the ﬂames of which
already had smoked the wood, and a smell of turpen-
tine pervaded the place. There was not a moment to
lose, and without hesitation I overturned the lamp,


96 MEMOXRS or vmoco.
and stamped out all the other appearances of sparks,
&c. The profound darkness that ensued, guaranteed
to me the certainty that I had prevented the explosion,
but I was not at ease until the smell was entirely dis-
5' ated, and then I went away. Who was the incen—
diary? This I knew not; but there arose in my mind
strong suspicions of the magazine-keeper, and to arrive
at the truth I went forthwith to his residence. His
wife was then alone, and told me that, kept at Bou-
logne on business, he would slee there, and would
return on the next morning. I as ed for the keys of
the magazine, but he had taken them with him; and
this removal of the keys conﬁrmed me in the opinion
that he was guilty: but, before I made any report, I
again visited his house at ten o’clock, to convince my-
self, and he had not then returned.
An inventory, which was made the same day, proved
that the keeper must have the greatest interest in de-
stroying the depot entrusted to his care, as the only
mode by which he could conceal the extensive robberies
he had committed. Six weeks elapsed before we learnt
what had become of him; and then some reapers found
his dead body in a wheat ﬁeld, with a pistol lying be-
side him. . '
As it had been my presence of mind which had pre-
vented the blowing up of the powder magazine, I was
promoted to the rank of serjeant; and the general, who
desired to see me, promised to recommend me to the
consideration of the ministr . As I thought I was
now in a fair way to do well, was very careful to lose
as Lebel all the bad qualities of Vidocq ; and, if the ne-
cessary duty of attending to the distribution of rations
had. not led m to Boulogne occasionally, I should
have been a nit exemplary fellow; but every time I
went to the city, I had to visit the quarter-master-in-
chief of dragoons, against whom I had espousedthe
pause of M. Bertrand: not that he exacted this from
me, but I thought it needful to be on good terms with


MEMoms or minor}. 91
him. Then, however, the whole day was consecrated
to Bacchus; and, in spite of myself, I lapsed from my
good intentions of reform. _ I
By the help of a suppositious uncle, a man of Wealth
and inﬂuence, whose property, he said, was secured to
him, my old colleague of the Bagne led a very agree-
able life; and the credit he obtained from the reputa-
tion of being a person of family, was unlimited. There
was not a Boulognese citizen of wealth, but cultivated
the acquaintance of a personage of such distinction
most sedulously. The most ambitious papas desired
nothing more ardently than to have him for a son-in-
law; and, amongst the young ladies, it was the general
[wish to catch him: thus he had facilities of dipping
into the purses of the one, and obtaining the 00d
graces of the other. He had an equipment li e a
colonel,-—dogs, horses, and servants; and affected the
tone and manners of a nobleman; possessing, in a su~'
preme degree, the art of throwing powder in fpeople’s
eyes, and making himself appear a man 0 conse-
quence: so much so, that the ofﬁcers themselves, who
are generally so extremely jealous of the prerogatives
belonging to an epaulet, thought it very‘natural that
he should eclipse them. In any place but Boulogne,
the adventurer would have been soon detected as a
swindler, as he had not received any education; but
in a city where the citizens of a recent establishment
were as yet genteel in costume only, it was an easy
matter to carry on such an imposition.
Fessard was the real name of this uarter-master,
who was only known at the Bagne as ippolyte. He
was, I believe, from Low Normandy; and, with an ex-
terior of much frankness, an open ,countenance, and
the haughty air of a young rake, he combined that
sly character which slander has attributed to the
inhabitants of Domfrontzy in a word, he was a;
shrewd man of the world, and gifted- with all that
was necessary to inspire conﬁdence. A rood of land
in his own country would have been to him sufﬁcient
K


98 mnnrorns or vrnoco.
to have produced a thousand actions at law, and
quite a sufﬁcient possession to have enabled him to
make his fortune by ruining his neighbour; but Hip-
polyte really had nothing in the world, and unable to
turn pleader, he became a swindler, then a forger,
then —- we shall learn what, and must not anti-
cipate.
1 Every time I visited the town, Hippolyte paid for
dinner; and one day, between dessert and cheese, he
said to me, “ Do you know I am astonished at you ;-
to live in the country like an anchorite ; to be content
with a daily pittance; to have just twenty-two sous
per diem. I cannot conceive how a person can endure
such a lot; as for me, I would rather die at once.
But you have your pickings somewhere, slily; you are
not the lad to live without some such additions.” I
told him that my pay sufﬁced for me; and, besides, I
was fed, clothed, and in want of nothing. “ All very
ﬁne,” he replied; “ but yet we have some priggers
(grinchisseurs) here: you have no doubt heard of the
‘- minions of the moon’ (l’armée de la Lune)—-You
must be one; and, if you like, [will quarter you ;--
take the environs of Saint Leonard.”
I was told that the army “ de la Lune” was a band
of malefactors, the leaders of whom were, up to this
period, concealed from the scrutiny of the olice.
These brigands, who had organized a system 0 mur-
der and robbery for a circuit of more than ten leagues,
all belonged to various regiments. At night they
ranged about the camps, or concealed themselves on
the roads, making pretended rounds, and patroles
stopping any person who presented the least hope of
booty. That they might not be impeded, they pro-
vided themselves'with uniforms of every denomination.
At a time of need they were captains, colonels, gene-
rals, and used all the proper words of regimental order
d discipline,—-pass-words, countersigns, &c.; with
w ich some trusty friends took care to inform them,
from time to time, as they were altered.


mamoms or vinocq. 99
From what I knew, the propOsal of Hippolyte was
well calculated to alarm me; for either he was one of
the leaders of this army de la Lune, or he was one of
the secret agents employed by the police to effect the
breaking up of this army: perhaps he was both. My
situation with him was most Embarrassing, and the
thread of my destiny was again entangled; nor could
I, as at Lyons, extricate myself from this business by
denouncing him; and then, what would it have availed
me to have denounced him, had he been an agent ?—-
This idea made me cautious of the mode in which I
should reject his proposition, which I did by saying
with ﬁrmness, that Iwas resolved to become an honest
man. “ Did’n’t you see,” said he, “ that I was only
joking, and you take up the matter seriously; I only
wanted to try you. I am charmed, my comrade, to
ﬁnd in you such a determination. I have formed a
similar one,” he added, “ and am on the h' hway to
it; and the devil shall not again turn me lg‘om it.”
Then, turning the conversation, we left all farther
mention of the army de la Lune.
Eight days alter this interview, during which Hip-
polyte had made me this proposal,’ so promptly re-
tracted, m captain, on gomg through the'inspection,
condemne me to four-and-twenty hours’ conﬁnement,
for a spot, which, he said, was on my uniform. This
cursed spot, althou h I opened my eyes as widely as
ossible, I was unab e to perceive ; but be it as it may,
went to the guard-house without a murmur. Four-
and~twenty hours soon pass away! The next mornin
would terminate in sentence ;-—when, at ﬁve o’cloc
in the morning, I eard the trot of horses, and soon
afterwards I heard the following dialogue :—“ Who
goes there ?”—-“ France.”—-“ What regiment ?”—“ The
imperial cor s of gendarmerie.” At the word gen-
darmerie I elt an involuntary shudder, and suddenly
my door opened and some one called “ Vidocq.” Never
did this name, falling suddenly on the ears of a troo
of villains, disconcert them more effectually than it


100 ,MEMOIRS or vrnocq.
did myself at this moment. “ Come, follow us,” cried
out the ofﬁcer; and, to prevent any possibility of es-
cape, he fastened a rope round me. I was instantly
conducted to prison, where I had a tolerable bed, on
paying for it. I found a numerous and goodly assem-
blage. “ Did I not say so ?” cried a soldier of artillery,
whom, by his accent, I knew to be a Piedmontese.
“ We shall have all the camp. Here is another. I will
bet my head that he owes his imprisonment to that
thief of a quarter-master. Will no one cut that vil-
lain’s throat !”—-“ G0, look for him, then, your quar-
ter-master;” interrupted a second prisoner, who also
seemed to be a new comer. “ Whatever he may have
done, he is now at a distance; be has made himself
scarce a week since. But, my lads, you must own
that he is a crafty chap. In less than three months,
forty thousand francs in debt in the city. What a
luck dog! And then how many little boys and girls
has e left behind—I should be sorry to father all his
ﬂock. Six young ladies, daughters of our leading bur-
gesses, are in a fair way of becoming mammas! Each
thought she had him to herself; but he seems to have
cut his heart into small pieces, and shared it amongst
them I”——-“ Oh! yes,” said a turnkey, who was pre-
paring my bed,“ he has spent like a prodigal, and now
must mind what he is about; for, if they catch him,
handcuffs are the word. He is marked as a deserter.
He will be caught, I think.”-—“ Do not make too sure,"
I replied; “ they will catch him as they caught
Bertrand.”~—“ Well, suppose he should be taken,” re-
sumed the Piedmontese, “ would that prevent my being
'guillotined at Turin? Besides, I repeat it, I will bet
my head —”—“ What does the fool say about his
head ?” cried a fourth. “ We are here in prison, and
as it was to be, what consequence through whose
. means!" This reasoner was right. It would have
been useless to lose oneself in a ﬁeld of conjectures,
and we must all have been blind not to have recog.
nized Hippolyte as the author of our arrest. As for


mmoras or 	rnoco. 101
me, I could not be deceived, for he was the only er-
son in Boulogne who knew that I had escaped rom
the Bagne.
Many soldiers of different ranks came against their
will to ﬁll up a chamber in which were assembled the
principal leaders of the army de la Luna. Very sel-
dom in the prison of so small a town, was there seen a.
more singular assemblage of delinquents; the ‘ prevot,’
that is, the elder of our room, named Lelievre, was a
poor devil of a soldier, who condemned to death three
years before, had perpetually before him the chance of
the termination of the respite by virtue of which he
still existed. The emperor, to whose mercy he had
been recommended, had pardoned him ; but as the
pardon had not been registered, and as the indispen-
sable ofﬁcial papers had not been transmitted to‘the
chief judge, Lelievre continued a prisoner; and all that
could be done in favor of this unfortunate being, was
to suspend the execution until the moment when an
opportunity should present itself of again calling the
emperor’s attention to his case. In this state, in which
his life was uncertain, Lelievre deliberated between the
hope of freedom and the fear of death; he laid down to
sleep with the one, and awoke with the other. Every
evening he thought himself sure of his liberty, and
every morning he expected to be hot; sometimes gay
even to folly, sometimes dull and spiritless, he never
enjoyed a moment of equable calm. If he layed a.
game of draughts or matrimony, he paused in t e midst
of it, threw down the cards, and striking his forehead
with his clenched hands, jumped from his seat, and
raving like a madman, he ended by ﬂinging himself on-
his bed, where lying on his face, he remained for hours
in a state of mental depression. The hospital was
Lelievre’s house of pleasure; and if he got wearied, he
went there for consolation from sister Alexandrine,
who had a most tender heart, and sympathised
with all the wretched. This compassionate sister was
deeply interested in the prisoner, and Lelievi; deserved
. K


inmoms or vxnoco. 103
At night he slept as usual until day-break, when the
round of a drum warned us that a detachment was
entering the prison yard, and he then dressed himself
hastily, gave is watch and money to Lelievre, who was
his bedfellow; and having frequently kissed a small
cruciﬁx which he always wore round his neck, he shook
hands with all us. The gaoler, who was present, was
very deeply affected; and when Christiern left us, said,
“ They are going to shoot him; all the troops are
assembled, and in less than a quarter of an hour all his
misfortunes will terminate. This sailor, whom you all
took for a Dane, is a native of Dunkirk; his real name is
Vandermot; he served in the corvette Hirondelle, and
was taken prisoner by the English, and placed in the
hold of a prison ship with many others; when, ex-
hausted with breathing infectious air and almost starv-
ing, he consented to a proposal of being removed from
this living tomb, on condition that he would em-
bark in a vessel belonging to the East India Company.
On the return of the ship it was captured by a priva-
teer, and Vandermot was brought here with the rest'of
the crew. He was to have been sent to Valenciennes,
but at the moment of departure, an interpreter inter-
rogated him, and it was found by his answers that he
was not conversant with the English language; this
gave rise to suspicions, and he declared that he was a
subject of the king of Denmark; but as he had no
proof of this assertion, it was decided that he should
remain here until the whole affair should be cleared
up. ,Some months elapsed, and Vandermot seemed
to have been forgotten, when one day a woman and
two children came to the gao], and asked for Christiern.
.‘ My husband 1’ she cried, seeing him. ‘ My wife !
my children !’ he exclaimed, embracing them with
ardour. ‘ How imprudent you are l’ said I in a whis-
per to Christiern; ‘ it is well that only I am with you 1’
romised to be secret, but it was useless. In the joy
0 having newis from him, his wife, to whom he had
written, and who thought him dead, had shown his let-


104 manorns or vrnoco.
ters to her neighbours, and some of the most oﬁicious
of them had already denounced him—the wretchesl
it is their deed which this day destroys him. For some
old \howitzers which the ship mounted, they have
treated him as one taken in arms against his country.
Are not such laws unjust?”
“ Yes, yes, the laws are unjust,” said a number of
fellows who were sitting round a bed, playin at cards
and drinking spirits. “ Come, push round t e glass,”
said one, handmg it to his neighbour. “ Holla l” said
a second, who remarked the air of consternation ex~
pressed in Lelievre’s features, and shook his arm;
“ do not put yourself in a fright about it! His turn
to-day, our’s to-morrow.”
This conversation, horribly prolonged, degenerated
into unfeelin jokes, until the sound of a drum and
ﬁfes, which t e echo of the river repeated in various
quarters, indicated that the detachments of various
corps were marching back to the camp. A death-like '
silence pervaded the prison for several minutes, and we
thought that Christiem had already undergone his
sentence; but at the instant when ,his eyes were
covered with the fatal bandage, and on his knees he
awaited the execution of his sentence, an aid-de-camp
had stopped the ﬁre of the musquetry. The prisoner
again saw the light of heaven, and was to be restored
to his wife and children, whose prayers and supplica-
tions to marshal Brune had been the means of saving
his life. Christiern, led back to conﬁnement, was still
full ofjoy, as he had been assured of his speedy freedom.
The emperor had been petitioned for his pardon, and
the request made in the name of the marshal himself,
was so generously urged, that it was impossible to
doubt of success.
The return of Chr'istiern was an event on which we
did not fail to congratulate him: we drank to the health
of the returned prisoner; and the arrival of six new
prisoners, who payed vtheir entrance fees with much
iberality, was an additional incentive to rejoicing.


uszuorns or vrnocq. 105
These men, whom I had known as a part of Paulet's
crew, were sentenced to a few days’ conﬁnement, as a
punishment for having in boarding a prize, in deﬁance
of the articles of war, plundered the English captain.
As they had not been compelled to refund, they brought
their guineas with them, and spent them freely. We
were all satisﬁed: the gaoler, who collected even to the
very smallest portions of this golden shower, was so
{Ll-gased with his new guests, that he relaxed his vigi-
ce, although there were in one room three prisoners
under sentence of death, Lelievre, Christiern, and the
Piedmontese Orsino, a chief ofbarbets, who having en-
countered near Alexandria a detachment of conscripts
marching towards France, had got into their ranks,
where he had supplied the place and name of a deserter.
Orsino, whilst serving under this flag, had conducted
himself irreproachably, but had marred all by an indis~
cretion. A price was set upon his head in his own
country, and the sentence was to be put into execution
at Turin. Five other prisoners were under the weight
bf charges of the gravest nature. Four were marines;
two of them Corsicans and two Provencals, charged
with the assassination of a woman from whom the
had stolen a golden cross and silver buckles; the ﬁfth
had been, as well as they, of the army de la Lune, and
to him were attributed very peculiar powers: the sol-
diers asserted that he could render himself invisible,
and metamorphose himself as be pleased; he had,
besides, the gift of ubiquity ; in_fact, he was a sorcerer;
and that because he was hump-backed, facetious, severe,
a great tale-teller, and having been a sharper all his
days, was clever in many tricks of legerdemain. With
such company, most gaolers would have used the
greatest precaution, but our’s considered us as only
skilful practitioners, and constantly associated with us.
Besides, for ready cash he provided for all our wants,
and had no idea that we could have any wish to leave
him; and he was correct to a certain point; for Lelievre
and Christiern had not the least wish‘to escape; Or-


108 namoras or VlDOCQ.
Perhaps, before I proceed, my reader will not be
sorry to learn the fate of my companions in ca tivity,
whom I had left at Boulogne; and I can satisfy their
curiosit with respect to some of them. We have
learnt t at Christiern Was shot, braVe, ood fellow, as
he was I Lelievre, who was equally wort y, lingered on
between hope and fear till the year 1811, when the
typhus fever terminated _his existence. The four
sailors, the murderers, were one night liberated, and
sent to Prussia, where two of them received the cross
of honour under the walls of Dantzic; and the Sor-
cerer was released without any sentence having been
passed. In 1814 he called himself Collinet, and was
the quarter-master of a Westphalian regiment, of
which he hoped to get the chest for his own particular
proﬁt. This adventurer, not knowing how to dispose
of his booty, went on the wings of haste to Burgundy,
where, in the neighbourhood, he fell in with a troop
of 'Cossacks, who compelled him to surrender, and
give an account of himself. This was the last day of
his life, for they ran him through with their lances.
My stay at Bethune was brief; for the da after my
capture I was forwarded to Douai, whither l' was con-
ducted under good escort.


mamoms or vmocq. 109
CHAPTER XXI.
I am conducted to Deni—Application for pardon—My wife mar-
ries again—The plunge in the Searpe—I travel as an ofﬁcer—
Reading the dispatchea—Residence at Paris—A new name—
The woman of my heart—I am a wandering merchant—The com-
missary of Melnn—Execution of Herbaux—l denounce a rob-
ber; he denounces me—The galley slaves at Auxerre—I am
settled in the capital—Two fugitives from the Bagne—M y wife
again—Receiving stolen goods.
-I HAD scarcely set foot in the prison, when the at-
torney-general .Rauson, whom my re eated escapes
had irritated against me, appeared att e grating, and
said—“ What, Vidocq has arrived? Have they put
him in fetters ?”—“ What have I done, sir,” said
I, -“ that you should wish to be so severe with.
me? Is it a great crime because I have so frequently
escaped ? Have I abused the liberty which I hold so
precious? When I have been retaken, have I not been
found exerting myself to procure honorable modes of
livelihood? I am less guilty than unfortunate l Have
pity on me,—pity my poor mother; if I am condemned
to return to the Bagne, she will die!”
These words, pronounced with accents of sincerity,
made some impression of M. Rauson, who returned 1n
the evening, and uestioned me at length of the mode
of my life since 113d left Toulon ; and as in proof of
~what I told him, I offered indubitable testimony, he
began to evince some kindness 'towards me. “ Why
do you not draw up,” said he, “an application for '
pardon, or at least for a commutation of the sentence?
will recommend you to the chief justice," I thanked
the magistrate for his proffered kindness to me, and
[the same day abarrister of Douai, M. Thomas, who
-took a real interest in me, brought for my signature
a petition, which he had been so kind as to draw _up
for me. _ ‘
von. 1!. I n
a» 5
I .“e


110 MEMOXRS or _VIDOCQ.
l was in expectation of the answer, when one morn.
ing I was sent for to the olice-olﬁce. Imagining that
it was the decision of t e minister which was to be
communicated to me, and impatient to know it, I fol-
lowed the turnkey with the haste of a man who anti-
cipates agreeable intelligence. I relied on seeing the
attorney-general, but—my wife a peared, accompanied
by two strangers. I endeavou to guess the purport
of her visit, when, with the most unembarrassed tone
in the world, madame Vidocq said to me, “ I have
come to tell you that the sentence of our divorce has
been pronounced. I am going to be married again, and
therefore I have judged it best to go throu h this for-
mality. The clerk will give you a copy ‘ the judg-
ment for perusal." ‘
Exoe tjobtaining my freedom, nothing could be more
agreeabi; to me than the dissolution of thismarriage,
as I was for ever embarrassed with a creature whom
I loathed. I do not know if I had sufﬁcient command
of myself to restrain my joy, but certainl my counte-
nance must have betokened it; and if, as have cogent
reasons to believe, my successor was present, he re,
tired with a conviction that I did not at all envy him
the treasure he was about to possess.
My detention at Douai was painfully prolonged. I
was in suspense for ﬁve whole months, and nothing
arrived from Paris. The attorney-general had evinced
much interest for me, but misfortune engenders distrust,
and I began tofear that he had led me on with a vain
hope, that I might form no plans of escape before the
departure of the galley-slaves; and struck with the
idea, I again plotted deeply-laid projects for escape.
The jailor, named Wettu, viewing me as gained over
and peaceable, showed me various little favours ; we fre-
quently dined together téte-a-téte in a small room with
one window,which looked on to the Scarpe. It struck me,
that with the aid of this 0 ening, which was not grated,
some day, after dinner, could easily take French
leave, and depart; only it was absolutely necessary that


Mnmorns or vxnoco. 11]
I should secure some disguise, which, when I had ef-
fected my escape, would effectually conceal me from all
pursuit. I conﬁded my intentions to some friends, and
they provided for me the uniform of an artillery ofﬁcer,
"of which I resolved to avail myself at the very ﬁrst op-
portunity. One Sunday evening I was at table with
the jailer, and the agent Hurtrel ; the wine.had made
them very merry, for I had pushed it about briskly.
“ Do you know, my hearty,” said Hurtrel to me, “ that
it would have been no safe business to have put you
here seven years ago. A window without bars! By
Jove, I would not have trusted you.”—“ And further,
Hurtrel,” I re lied, “one should be made of cork to
risk a plunge fi'om such a height; the Scarpe is very
deep ﬁ)!‘ a person who cannot swim.”-—“ True,” said
the jailor; and there the conversation rested, but my
determination was taken. Some friends arrived, and
the jailor satdown to play with them; and ﬁxing on
the momentlwhen he was most intent on his game, I
threw myself into the river.
At the noise of my fall, all the party ran to the win-
dow, whilst Wettu called loudly to the guard and
tnmkeys to pursue me. Fortunately, twilight rendered
it scarcely possible to discern objects; and my hat,
which I had thrown designedly on the bank, seemed to
indicate that I had immediately got out of the river,
whilst I had continued swimming towards the Water-
gate, under which I passed with great difﬁculty, in con-
sequence of being very cold, and my strength beginning
to fail. Once out of the city, I gained the bank, my
clothes full of water, not weighing less than an hundred
weight; but I had made up my mind not to delay, and
pushed on at once for Blangy, a village two leagues
> om Arras. It was four in the morning; and a baker
who was beating his oven, gave me leave to dry my
garments; and supplied me with food. As soon as I
was dried and refreshed, I started for Duisans, where
the widow of an old friend of mine, a captain, resided.
A messenger was to bring to me there the uniform -


112 MEMOIRS or vmocq.
which had been provided for me at Douai; and no
sooner had I obtained it, than I went to Hersin, where
I stayed a few days with a cousin of mine. The advice
of my friends, which was very rational, urged me to
depart as quickly as possible ; and as I learnt that the
police, convinced that I was in the vicinity, were beat-
ing up every quarter, and were approaching the place
of my abode, I determined not to wait for them. i
It was evident that Paris only could afford me a refuge;
but to get to Paris it was indispensable I should pass
through Arras, where I should be infallibly recognised.
I cogitated on the means of obviating this danger; and
prudence suggested to me to_ get into the wicker calash
of my cousin, who had a famous horse, and was the
eleverest fellow in the world for his knowledge of the
cross roads. He pledged himself on the reputation of
his talent as a guide, to carry me in safety by the ram-
parts of my native town ; and I wanted no more at his
ands, trusting to my disguise to effect the rest. I was
no longer Vidocq, unless I was examined very closely;
and on reaching the bridge of Gy, I saw, without the
least alarm, eight horses belonging to gendarmes, tied
to the door of a public house. I confess I would rather
have avoided the rencontre; but it faced me, and it
was only by fronting it boldly that I could hope to
escape detection. “‘ Come on,” said I to my cousin;
“ here we must make an essay; get down; be as quick
as you can, and call for something. ” He immediately
alighted, and entered the public house with the air of a
man who had no dread of the eye of the brigade.
“ Ah!” said they, “it is your cousin Vidocq that you
are driving ?”—-“ Perhaps, it may be,” he answered
with a laugh; “ go and see.” A gendarme did ap-
proach the calash, but rather from curiosity than sus-
picion. it the sight of my uniform, he respectfully
touched his hat, and said, “Your servant, captain ;"
and soon afterwards mounted his horse with his com—
rades. “ Good journey,” cried my cousin, cracking his
whip; “ if you lay hold of him, perhaps you will 'write


Mamoms or vrnoco. 113
its 'wor .”—“ Go our way,” said the quarter-master
who commanded t e troop, “ we know his haunt ; Her-
sin is the word; and to-morrow by this time, he willbe
again between four walls. ”
We continued our journey very quietly, but yet one
thing made me somewhat uneasy; my military dress
might expose me to some difﬁculties which would have
an unpleasant result. The war with Prussia had begun,
and there were but few ofﬁcers in the interior, unless
they were conﬁned there by some wound. I deter-
mined on carrying my arm in a sling as an oﬂicer
who had been disabled at Jena; and if any questions
were asked, I was repared to give all particulars on
this subject, which Ihad learnt from the bulletins; and
to add those which I could pick up by hearing a mul-
titude of accounts, some true and some false, from wit-
nesses either ocular or not. In fact, I was quite aufait
concerning the battle of Jena, and could speakto all
comers with perfect knowledge of the subject; nobody
knew more of it than I did. I acquitted myself in admi-
rable style at Beaumont, when the weariness of our horse
which had conveyed us thirty-three leagues in a day and
a half, compelled us to halt. I had already begun convers-
ing in the inn, when I saw a quarter-master of gendarmes
go straight up to an oﬁicer of dragoons, and ask for his
papers. I went u to the quarter-master, and asked
im the motive 0 this precaution. “ I asked for his
route,” he answered, “ because when every one is with
the army, a healthy oﬂicer would not be left in France.”
“ You are right, comrade,” said I, “ duty must be per-
formed ;" and at the same time, that he might not take
a fancy to ask me a similar question, I asked him to
dine with us; and during the meal I so far gained his
conﬁdence, that he requested me, on reaching Paris,
to use my interest in procuring him a change of quar-
ters. I romised all he asked, which much pleased
him; as was to use my own inﬂuence, which was
great, and that of others st'dl more powerful. We are
generally prodigal in bestowing that which vzve have
1.


114- MEMOIRS or vmoco.
not. However it may be, the ﬂask circulated rapidly;
and my guest, in the enthusiasm of having secured an
interest which was so desirable to him, began to talk
that voluble nonsense which usually precedes drunken-
ness, when a gendarme brought him a packet of dis-
patches. He opened them with an unsteady hand, and
attempted to read them, but his eyes refused their
ofﬁce, and he begged me to peruse them for him. I
opened a letter, and the ﬁrst words which struck my
sight were these : “ Brigade of Arras.” I hastily read it,
and found that it was advice of my travelling towards
Beaumont, and adding that I must have taken the dili-
gence of the Silver Lion. In spite of my agitation, I
read the letter to him, omitting or adding particulars as
I pleased. “ Good! very good!” said the sober and
vigilant quarter-master; “ the conveyance will not pass
until to-morrow morning, and I will take due care.“
He' then sat down with the intention of drinking more,
but his strength did not equal his courage, and they
were obliged to carry him to bed, to the great scandal
of all the lookers-on, who repeated with much indigna-
tioh; “ What! the quarter-master ! A man of rank
to behave so shamefully l” v _
As might be conjectured, I did not wait the uprising
of the man of rank; and at ﬁve o’clock got into the
Beaumont diligence, which conveyed me safely to
Paris, where my mother, who had remained at Ver-
sailles, rejoined me. We dwelt together for some
months in the faubourg SaintFDeuis, where we saw no
one except a jeweller named Jacquelin, whom I was
compelled, to a certain extent, to make my Iconﬁdant,
because he had known me at Rouen under the name
of Blondel. It was at his house that I met a madame
de 13—, who holds the ﬁrst rankin the aﬂ'ections of
my life. Madame de B , or Annette, for so I call
her, was a very pretty woman, whom her husband had
abandoned in consequence of his aﬂ‘airs turning out
unfortunate. He had ﬂed to Holland, and had not
been heard of for a considerable time. Annette was


MEMOIRS or vrnoco. 115
then quite free ; she pleased me; I liked her wit, un-
derstanding, kindly feeling, and ventured to tell her
so; she saw soon, and without much trouble, my'
assiduity and regard; and we found that we could not
exist without each other. Annette came to live with
me, and as I resumed the trade of a travelling seller
of fashionable commodities, she resolved to accompany
me in my perambulations. The ﬁrst journey we un-,
dertook together was excessively fortunate. I learnt,
however, at the moment I was leaving Melun, from the
landlord of the inn at which I had put up, that the
commissary of police had testified some regret at not
having examined my papers; but what was deferred
was not ended, and that at my next visit, he
meant to pay me a visit. The information surprised
me, for I must consequently have been in some way an
object of sus icion. To go on might lead to danger,
and I there ore returned to Paris, resolving not to
make any other journeys, unless I could render less
unfavorable the chances which combined against me.
Having started very early, I reached the faubourg
Saint Marceau in good time; and at my entrance, I
heard the hawkers bawling out, “ that two well-known
persons are to be executed to-day at the Place de
Gréve.” I listened, and fancied l distinguished the
name of Herbaux. Herbaux, the author of the for-
gery which caused all my misfortunes! I listened
with more attention, but with an involuntary. shudder;
and this time the crier, to whom I had approached,
repeated the sentence with these additions: “ Here is
the sentence of the criminal tribunal of the department
of the Seine, which condemns to death the said Ar-
mand Saint Leger, an old sailor, born at Bayonne,
and César Herbaux, a freed galley-slave, born at Lille,
accused and convicted of murder,” &c.
I could doubt no longer; the wretch who had heaped
so much misery on my head was about to suﬂ'er at the
scaffold. Shall I. confess that I felt a sentiment 0
joy, and yet I trembled? Tormented again, and agi-


116 MEMOIRS or vrnoco.
tated with a perpetually renewing uneasiness, I would
have destroyed all the population of the prisons and
Bagnes, who, having been the means of casting me into
the abyss of misery, had kept me there by their vile dis-
closures. It will not excite wonder, when I say that
I ran with haste to the palace of justice to assure
myself of the truth; it was not mid-day, and I had
great trouble in reaching the grating, near which I
ﬁxed myself, waiting for the fatal moment.
At last four o’clock struck, and the wicket opened.
A man appeared ﬁrst on the sledge. It was Herbaux.
His face was covered with a deadly paleness, whilst
he affected a ﬁrmness which the convulsiire workings
of his features belied. He pretended to talk to his
companion, who was already incapacitated from hear-
ing him. At the signal of departure Herbaux, with a
countenance into which he infused all the audacity he
could force, gaZed round on the crowd, and his eyes
met mine. He started, and the blood rushed to his
face. The procession passed on, and I remained as
motionless as the bronze railings on which I was
leaning; and I should probably have remained longer,
if an inspector of the palace had not desired me to
come aWay. Twenty minutes afterwards a car, laden
with a red basket, and escorted by a gendarme, was
hurried over the Pont-au-Change, gailng towards the
burial-ground allotted for felons. en, with an op-
pressed feeling at my heart, I went away, and regained
my lodgings, full of sorrowful reﬂections.
I have since learnt, that, during his detention at the
Bicetre, Herbaux had eXpressed his regret at having
been instrumental in getting me condemned, when
innocent. The crime which had brought this wretch
to thepscaﬂ‘old was a murder committed, in com any
with Saint Leger, on a lady of the Place Daupiiine.
These two villains had obtained access to their victim
under pretence of giving her tidings of her son, whom
they said they had seen in the army.
Although, in fact, Herbaux’s execution could not


MEMOIRS or VIDOCQ. 117
have any direct inﬂuence over my situation, yet it
alarmed me, and I was horror-struck at feeling that I
had eVer been in contact with such brigands, destined
to the executioner’s arm: my remembrance revealed
me to myself, and I blushed, as it were, in my own
face. I sought to lose the recollection, and to lay
down an impassable line of demarcation between the
past and the present; for I saw but too plainly,'that
the future was dependant on the past; and I was the
more wretched, as a police, who have not always
due powers of discernment, would not permit me to
forget myself. I saw myself again on the point of
being snared like a deer. The persuasion that I was
interdicted from becoming an honest man drove me to
despair; I was silent, morose, and disheartened. An-
nette perceived it, and sought to console me; she
offered to devote herself for me, pressed me with
questions, and my secret escaped me; but I never
had cause to regret my conﬁdence. The activity, the
zeal, and presence of mind of this woman became very
useful to me. Iwas in want of a passport, and she
persuaded Jacquelin to lend me his, and to teach me
ow to make use of it; she gave me the most complete
accounts of her family and connexions. Thus in-
structed, I set out on my journey, and traversed the
whole of Lower Burgundy. Almost everywhere I
was examined as to my passport, which if they had
compared with my person, would-have at once de-
tected the fraud; but this was nowhere done, and
for more than a year, with triﬂing exceptions not
worth detailing, the name of Jacquelin was propitious
to me.
One day that I had unpacked at Auxerre, and was
walking peaceably on the quay, I met one Paquay, a
robber by profession, whom I had seen at the Bicétre,
where he was conﬁned for six years. I would rather
have avoided him, but “he addressed me abruptly, and
from his ﬁrst salutation, I found that it would not be
safe to pretend no acquaintance with him. He was


118 MEMOIRS or VIDOCQ.
too inquisitive about what I was doing; and as I saw -
from his conversation that he wished me to join him
in his robberies, I thought it best to get rid of him, to
talk of the police of Auxerre, whom I represented as
Very vigilant, and consequently much to be dreaded»
I thought I saw that my information made an impress
sion on him, and I coloured the picture still higher,
until at length, after having listened with much, but
unquiet attention, he suddenly cried, “ Devil take it!
it a pears that there is nothing to be done here; the
pac et-boat will start in two hours, and if you like we
will be off to ether.”—“ Agreed,” said I; “ if you are
for starting am your man.” I then quitted him,
after having promised to rejoin him immediately that
I should have made some reparations which were
necessary. How pitiable is t e condition of a fugitive
Hey-slave, who, if he would not be denounced or
implicated in some evil deed, must he himself the
denouncer. Returned to the ublic-house, I then
wrote the following letter to t e lieutenant of the
gendarmerie, whom I knew to be on the hunt for
the authors of a robbery lately committed at the
‘coach ofﬁce :—-
a Sm,
“ A person who does not wish to be knotm, informs
you that one of the authors of the robbery committed
at the coach-ofﬁce in your city, will set out by the
packet-boat to go to Soigny, where his accomplices
most proliably are. Lest you should fall, and not
arrest him in time, it would be best for two disguised
gendarmes to go on board the packet-boat with him, as
it is important that he should be taken with prudence,
and not be allowed to get out of sight, as he is a very
active man.”
This missive was accompanied by a description so
minute that it was impossible to mistake him. The
moment of departure arrived, and I went on the quays,


MEMOIRS or vinoco. 119
taking a .circuitous route, and from the window of a
public-house where I stationed myself, I perceived
Paquay enter the packet-boat, and soon afterwards
the two gendarmes embarked, whom I recognized by
a certain air, which run be seen, but cannot be de-
scribed. At intervals t ey handed a paper to each
other, which they perused, and then cast their
eyes on the man, whose dress, contrary to the usual
garb of the robbers, was in a bad condition. The
boat moved on, and I saw it depart with the more
pleasure, as it carried with it Paquay, his propositions,
and even his discoveries, if, as I did not doubt, he had
the intention of making any.
The day after this adventure, whilst I was taking
an inventory of my merchandizes, I heard an extra-
ordinary noise, and, looking from the windows, I saw
Thierry and his satellites guarding a chain of galley-
slaves! At this sight, so terrible and inauspicious for
me, I drew back quickly, but in my haste I broke a
pane of glass, and suddenly attracted all looks towards
me. I wished myself in the bowels of the earth.
But this was not all; for to increase my disquietude,
somebody opened my door; it was the landlady of
the Pheasant, madame Gelat. “ Here, M. Jacquelin,
come and see the chain passing,” she cried. “Oh, it
is long since I saw such a ﬁne one, there are at least
one hundred and ﬁfty, and some of them famous
fellows! Do you hear how they are singing?" I
thanked m hostess for her attention, and retending
to be muc busied, told her that I would) go down
in. an instant. “Oh, do not hurry yourself,” she
answered, “there is plenty of time, they are goin to
sleep here in our stables. And then if you wis *to
have any conversation with the commandant, they will
put him in the chamber next to you.” Lieutenant
Thierry my neighbour! At this intelligence I know
not w at passed in my mind; but I think that if
madame Gelat had observed me she would have seen
my countenance grow pale, and my whole frame


120 nanoms or VIDOCQ.
tremble with an involuntary shudder. Lieutenant
Thierry my neighbour! He might recognize me,
detect me; agesture might betray me; and it was
therefore expedient to avoid a rencontre if possible.
The necessity of completing my inventor was an
excuse for my apparent want of curiosity. passed a.
frightful night, and it was not until four o’clock in
the morning that the departure of the infernal pro-
cession was announced to me, that I breathed freely
again.
He has never suffered, who has not experienced
horrors similar to those into which the presence of
this troop of banditti and their guards threw me. To
be again invested with those fetters which I had broken
at the cost of so much endurance and exertion, was
an idea which haunted me incessantly. I was not the
sole possessor of my own secret, for there were galley-
slaves everywhere, who, if I sought to ﬂee from them
would infallibly betray me: my repose, my very ex-
istence was menaced on all sides, and at all times.
The glance of an eye, the name of a commissary, the
appearance of a gendarme, the perusal of a sentence,
.all roused and excited my alarm. How often did I
curse the perverse fate which, deceiving my youth,
had smiled at the disorderly license of my passions;
and that tribunal ‘which, by an unjust sentence, had
plunged me into a gulf whence I could not extricate
myself, nor cleanse myself of the foul imputations
which clung to me; and those institutions which close
for ever the door of repentance! I was excluded from
society, and yet I was anxious to give it proofs of
good conduct; I had given them; and I attest my
invariable honourable behaviour after every escape,
my habits of regularity, and my punctilious ﬁdelity in
fulﬁlling all my engagements.
Now some fears arose in my mind concerning Pa-
quay, in whose arrest I had been instrumental; and,
on reﬂection, it seemed that I had acted incon-
siderately in this circumstance; I felt a‘forewarning


mamoras or Vinoco. 121
of some impending evil, and the presentiment was
realized. Paquay, when conducted to Paris and then
brought back to be confronted at Auxerre, learnt that
Iwas still in that city; he had-always suspected me
of having denounced him, and determined on his
revenge. He told the jailor all he knew concerning
me, and he reported it to the authorities; but my
reputation for probity was so well established in
-Auxerre, where I remained for three months at a
time, that, to avoid an unpleasant business, a magis-
trate, whose name I will not disclose, sent for me, and
gave me notice of what had occurred. There was no
occasion for me to avow the truth, my agitation
revealed all, and I had only strength to say, “ Sir, I
seek to be an honest man.” Without an re 1y, he
went out and left me alone. I compre en ed his
generous silence, and in a uarter of an hour I had
lost sight of Auxerre; and rom in retreat I wrote
to Annette, to inform her of this resh catastrophe.
But to remove suspicion, I recommended her to stay
for a fortnight at the ‘Pheasant,’ and to tell every-
body that I was at Rouen, making purchases, and on
the expiration of the time she was to rejoin» me at
Paris, where she arrived at the day appointed. She
told me, that the day after my departure, disguised
gendarmes had called at my warehouse, intending to
'arrest me, and that not ﬁnding me, they had said
that they did not mind, for they should discover me
at last.
They continued their search; and this deranged all
my plans, for, masked under the name of Jacquelin,
I saw myself reduced to quit it, and once more re-
nounce the industrious trade which I had created.
No passport, however good, could protect me
through the districts which I usually travelled over;
and in those where I was unknown, my unusual ap-
pearance would most probably excite suspicion. The
crisis was horridly critical. What could I do? This
was my only thought, when chance introduced me to
u


122 MEMOIRS or VIDOCQ.
a tailor of the Cour Saint Martin, who was desirous
of selling his-business. I treated with him, persuaded
that I could nowhere be so safe as in the heart of a
capital, where it is easy to lose oneself amid the
crowded population. Eight months elapsed, and
nothing disturbed the tramguillity enjoyed by my
mother, Annette, and mysel . My trade prospered,
and every day augmented it; nor did I conﬁne myself,
as my predecessor had done, to the making 11 of
clothes, but traded also in cloths, and was per s
on the road to fortune, when one morning all my
troubles were renewed.
I was in my warehouse, when a messenger came to
me, and said I was wanted at a coffee-house in the
Rue Aumaire, and thinking that it was some matter
of business, I immediately went to the place appointed.
I was taken into a private room, and there found two
fugitives from the hagne at Brest; one of them was
that Blondy who aided my unfortunate escape from
Pont-a-Luzen. “ We have been here these ten days,”
said he to me, “ and have not a sous. Yesterday we
saw you in a warehouse, that we learnt was your
own, which gave us much pleasure; and I said to my
friend, ‘Let us now cast oﬁ‘ all care;’ for we know
that you are not the man to leave old comrades in
difﬁculty.”
The idea of seeing myself in the power of two
ruﬁians,'whom I knew capable of the vilest deeds,
_ even of selling me to the police to make a proﬁt of
me, although they {injured themselves, was over-
whelming. I did not fail to express my pleasure at
seeing them, adding, that I was not rich, and regret-
ting that it was only in my power to give them ﬁﬁy
francs. They appeared content with this sum; and
on leaving me, expressed their intention to depart at
once for Chalons-sur-Marne, where they said they
had business. I should have been but too fortunate
had they at once quitted Paris, but on bidding me
adieu, t ey promised soon to see me again, and I


MEMOIRS or vrnoco. 123
remained tormented with the dread of their returh.
Would they not consider me as a milch-cow, and make
the most of their power over me ? Would they not be
insatiable? Who could answer that their demands
would be limited to my means ? I already saw myself
the banker of these gentlemen and many others; for
it was to be presumed, that in conformity with the cus-
tom of these thieves, if I satisﬁed them, they would
introduce their friends to me, who would also draw
upon me, and I shall only be on good terms with them
till my ﬁrst refusal, and after that they would without
doubt serve me a villanous trick. With such blood-
hands let loose u on me, it ma be imagined that I
was but ill at ease It must be 81 owed that my situa-
tion was a pleasant one, but it was crowned with a
rencontre which made it still worse.
It may or may not be remembered that my wife, after
her divorce, had married again, and I thought she was
in the department of the Pas-de-Calais, entirely occu-
pied in being happy and making her new husband so,
when in the Rue du Petit-Carreau, I met her, face to
face; and it was impossible to ass her, for she at
once recognized me. I spoke to er, without alluding
to the wrongs she had done me; and as the dila ida-
tion of her dress evinced that she was not in very our-
ishing circumstances, I gave her some money. She
perhaps imagined that it was an interested generosity,
ut it certainly was not. It never occurred to me that
the ex-madame Vidocq would denounce me. In truth,
in recurring at a later eriod to our old wrangles, I
thought that my heart ad only given me rudential
suggestions, and then ap roved of what I ad done;
it appeared most pro’per t at this female, in her dis-
tress, should rely on me for some assistance. Detained
in or far from Paris, I was anxious to relieve her mi-
sery. This should have been a consideration to deter-
mine her to reserve silence; and I at least thought
so. We shaI see whether or not I was deceived in
my expectation.


mmoias or VIDOCQ. 125
paying my contribution to these two scoundrels, I
could not help letting them know how inconsiderater
they had behaved. “ Consider what a step you have
taken,” said I to them; “they know nothing at my
house, and you have told all; my wife, who carries
on the concern in her name, will perhaps turn me out,
and then I must be reduced to the lowest ebb of mi-
sery.”-—“ Oh you can come and rob with us," answered
the two rascals.
I endeavoured to convince them how much better
it was to owe an existence to honest toil, than to be in
incessant fear from the police, which sooner or later
catches all malefactors in its nets. I added that one
crime generally leads to another; that he would risk
his neck who ran straight towards the ' otinc; and
the termination of my discourse was, t at they would
do well to renounce the dangerous carreer on which
they had entered.
“Not so bad!” cried Blond , when I had ﬁnished
my lecture, “ not so bad! ut can You in the mean
time point out to us any apartment that we can ransack.
We are, on see, like Harlequin, and have more need
of cash t an advice ;” and they left me, laughing de-
ridingly at me. I called them back, to profess my at-
tachment to them, and begged them not to call again
at 'my house. “ If that is all,” said Deluc, “we will
keep from that.”—“ Oh yes, we’ll keep away,” added
Blondy, “since that is unpleasant to your mistress.”
But the latter did not stay away long: the very' next
day at nightfall he presented himself at my ware ouse,
and asked to speak to me rivately. I took him into
my own room. “ We are one ‘2” said he to me, look-
ing round at the room in which we were ;.and when
he was assured that he had no witnesses, he drew ﬁ'om
his pocket eleven silver forks and two gold watches,
which he placed on a stand. “Four hundred francs
for this would not be too much—the silver plate and
the gold watches—Come, tip us the needful.”-“ Four
hundred francs!” said I, alarmed at so abrupt a total.
at 2


126 ammonia or VIDOCQ;
“ I have not so much money.”'—“ Never mind. ‘Go
and sell the goods.”—“ But if it should be known!”
“ That’s your affair; I want the ready; or if you like
it better, I’ll send you customers from the police of-
ﬁce—you know what a word would do—Come, come,
.the cash, the chink, and no gammon.” I understood
the scoundrel but too well: I saw myself denounced,
dragged from the state into which I had installed my-
self, and led back to the Bagne. I counted out the
four hundred francs.


MEMOIRS or vinoco. 127
CHAPTER XXII.
Another robber—My wicker car—Arrest of two galley-slaves—
Fearful discovery—St Germain wishes to involve me in a
robbery—l offer to serve the police—Horrid perplexities—
They wish to take me whilst in bed-My concealment—A
comic adventure—Disguises on disguises—Chevalier has de-
nounced me—Annette at the Depﬁt of the Prefecture—I pre-
pare to leave Paris—Two pane" of false money—l am appre-
hended in my shirt—1 am conducted to the Bicétre.
I was a receiver of stolen goods! a criminal, in spite
of myself! But yet I was one, forI had lent a hand to
crime. No hell can be imagined equal to the torment
in which I now existed. I was incessantly agitated;
remorse and fear assailed me at once, night and day;
at each moment I was on the rack. I did not sleep, I
had no appetite, the cares of business were no longer
attended to, all was hateful to me. All! no, I had
Annette and my mether with me. But should I not.
be forced to abandon them? Sometimes I trembled at
the thoughts of my apprehension, and my home was
transformed into a ﬁlthy dungeon; sometimes it was
surrounded by the police, and their pursuit laid open
proofs of a misdeed which would draw down on me
the vengeance of the laws. HarasSed by the family
of Chevalier, who devoured my substance; tormented
by Blondy, who was never wearied with applying to
me for money ;' dreading all that could occur, that was
most horrible and incurable, in my situation; ashamed
of the tyranny ekercised over me by the vilest wretches
that disgraced the earth; irritated that I could not
burst through the moral chain which irrevocably bound
me to the opprobrium of the human race; I was driven
to the brink of despair, and, for eight days, pondered
in my head the direst purposes. Blondy, the wretch
Blondy, was the especial object of my wrathful indig-
nation; I could have strangled him with all m heart,
andyet _I still kept on terms with him, stil had a


128 mamoms or vrnoco.
welcome for him. Impetuous and violent as I was by
nature, it was astonishing how much patient endurance
I exercised; but it was all owing to Annette. Oh!
how I prayed with fervent sincerity, that, in one of his
frequent excursions, some friendly gendarme might
drive a bullet through Blondy’s brain! I even trusted
that it was an event that would soon occur; but every
time that a more extended absence began to inspire me
with the hope that I was at length freed from this
wretch, he again appeared, and brought with him a
renewal of all my cares.
One day I saw him come with Deluc and an ex-
clerk, named St Germain, whom I had known at
Rouen; where, like many others, he had barely the
reputation of an honest man. St Germain, who had
only known me as the merchant Blondel, was much
astonished at the meeting; but two words from Blondy
explained my whole history—I was a thorough rogue.
Conﬁdence then replaced astonishment; and St Ger-
main, who at ﬁrst had frowned, joined in the mirth.
Blondy told me, that they were going all three to set
out for the environs of Senlis, and asked me.for the
loan of my wicker car, which I made use of when
visiting the fairs. Glad to get rid of these fellows on
such terms, I hastily wrote a note to the person who
had charge of it. He gave them the conveyance and
harness, and away they went; whilst for ten days I
heard nothing of them, when St Germain re-appeared.
He entered my house one morning with an alarmed-
look, and an appearance of much fatigue. “Well,”
said he, “ my comrades have been seized.”—“ Seized l "
cried I, with a joy which I could not repress; but as-
suming all my coolness, I asked for the details, with
an aﬁ'ectation of being greatly concerned. St Germain
told me, in few words, that Blondy and Deluc had
only been apprehended because they travelled without
credentials. I did not believe anything he said, and
had no doubt but they had been engaged in some rob-
bery; and what conﬁrmed my suspicions was, that, on


130 \ MEMOIRS or vmoco.
max of my terrors. I made some observations, to
which he replied, “ What is that to me ?—busiuess
must be done—-—Beeause you know him! Why that is
the stronger reason; you know all the ways of the
house; ou can guide me, and we will share the
produce —Come, it is no use refusing; I must have.
the impression.” I pretended to yield to his argu-
ments. “ Such scruples as these—hold your tongue!”
replied St Germain; “ you make me sweat (the ex-
pression he used was not quite so proper). But come
-all is agreed, and half the plunder is yours.” Good
God! what an associate! I had no cause to rejoice at
Blondy’s mishap; I really got rid of a fever and fell
into an ague. Blondy would yield to persuasion on
certain terms, but St Germain never; and he was
even more imperious in his demands. Exposed to
see myself compromised from one moment to another,
I determined to see M. Henry, chief of the division of
security in the prefecture of police. I went to
him; and having unfolded my situation to him, de-
clared that if he would tolerate my residence at Paris,
I would give him exact information of a great man
fugitive galley-slaves, with whose retreats and plansI
was well acquainted.
M. Henry received me with much kindness; but
having for a, moment reﬂected on what I had said,
answered that he could not enter into any terms with
me. “ That should not prevent your giving the in-
formation,” he continued, “ and we can then juﬁle
how useful it may be; and perhaps . . . .”'—“ ,
sir, no perhaps, that would risk my 1' e. You are not
ignorant of what those individuals are capable whom
you denounce; and if I must be led back to the Bagne
after some part of an accusation has stated that I have
made communications to the police, I am a dead man.”
—“ Under these circumstances, let us speak no farther
on the subject ;” and he left me, without even asking
my name.
I was deeply grieved at the ill success of my propo-


MBMOIRS or vrnoco. 131
aition. St Germain was about to return, and demand
the rformance of my promise. What was I to do?
Oug t I to inform the individual, that we were about
to rob him together? If it had been possible to have
avoided accompanying St Germain, it would not have
been so dangerous to have given such notice; but I
had promised to assist him, and had no pretext for
getting off from my promise, and I waited for him as
should have done for a sentence of death. One, two,
three weeks passed in these perplexities, and at the
end of this time I began to breathe again; and when
two months had elapsed, was erfectly at my ease,
thinking that he had been ap re ended, as well as his
two companions. Annette I shall always remember
it) made a nine da ’ vow, and burnt at least a dozen
wax candles in to en of joy. “ I pray to heaven,”
she sometimes said, “ that they may continue where
they are.” The torment had been of long duration,
but the moments of calm were brief, and they pre-
ceded the catastrophe which decided m existence.
The 3rd of May 1809, at day-break, was awakened
by several knocks at my warehouse door; and going
down to see, was on the point of opening the door,
when I heard some voices in conversation in a low
tone. “ He is a powerful man,” said one; “ we must
be wary!” There was no doubt concerning the mo-
tives of this early visit, and I returned hastily to my
chamber, told Annette what had passed, and opening
the window, whilst she entered into conversation
with the ofﬁcers, I glided out in my shirt, by a door
which opened on the staircase, and soon reached the
upper stor ; at the fourth I saw an open door and en-
tered, loo ed about me, listened, and found I was
alone. In a recess in the wall was a bed, hidden by a
ragged crimson damask curtain. Pressed by circum-
stances, and sure that the staircase was guarded, I
threw myself beneath the mattress; but scarcely had
I lain down when some one entered, whom I recog-


132 memost or vrnoco.
nized to be a young man named Fossé, whose father,
a brass-worker, was lying in an_adjacent room, and a
dialogue thus began :—
SCENE THE FIRST.
FATHER, mo'rnnn, AND SON.
_ San. “ What do on think, "father? They are look-
ing for the tailor—t ey want to seize him—all the house
is in an uproar—Do you hear the bell? Hark ! hark!
they are ringing at the watchmaker’s.” -
Mother. “ Let them ring—do not you meddle in
business that does not concern you ;—(to her husband)
Come, father, dress; they will soon be here.”
Father. (Yawning, and as I imagined, rubbing his
eyes) “ The devil fetch them—what do they want with
the tailor?”
Son. “I do not know, father; but there are lots of
them—bailiffs and gendarmes, and a commissary with
them.”
Father. “ Perhaps it is nothing at all.” ‘ ‘,
Mother. “ But what can they want with the tailor?
What can he have done?”
Father. “ What can he have done? Since he sells
cloth, he may have made clothes of English goods."
Moi/zen “ He may have employed foreign goods!
You make me laugh at you. Do you think he would
be apprehended for that ?"
Fat/m". “ Yes, I think they would apprehend him
for that, and the continental blockade.”
San. '“ Continental blockade! What do you mean
by that, father? What has that to do with the matter ?”
Mother. “ Oh yes! Tell us, then, what will be the
end of this; and let us know the truth of it all.”
Father. “ The meaning of all this ;—that perhaps
the will make the tailor a head shorter.”
other. “ Good God! poor man! I am sure they


msmoms or VIDOCQ- 133
will take him away—criminals, like him, are not guilty;
and if it only depended on me, I knbw I would hide
them all in m chemise.”
Father. “ go you not know the tailor is a large
fellow ?-—he has a famous body of his own.” -
illother. “ Never mind, I would hide him. I wish
he would come here. Do you remember the deserter ?”
Father. “ Hush, hush! Here they come.”
SCENE THE SECOND.
ENTER THE COMMISSARY, GENDARMES, AND THEIR
ATTENDANTS.
(At this moment the commissary and his staff having
traversed the house from top to bottom, reached the
fourth story.) .
Commissary. “ Ah! the door is open. I beg par-
don for disturbing you, but the interest of society
demands it. You have a neighbour, a very bad man,
a man who would kill either father or mother.”
Wife. “ What, monsieur V idocq ? ”
Commissary. “ Yes, madam, Vidocq; and I charge
you, in case you or your husband have given him shel-
ter, to tell me without delay.”
lVife. “ Ah, monsieur le commissaire, you may
look everywhere if you please. We give shelter to any
one who—" .
Commissary. “ Ah, you should beware, for the
law is very severe in this particular. It is a subject
on which there is no joking! You would subject
yourselves to very severe punishment; for a man con-
demned to capital punishment, it would be nothing less
than—”
Husband (quickly). “ We are not afraid of that,
monsieur commissaire.” -.
Cmnmiuary. “ I believe you, and rely on you.
However, that I may have nothing to reproach myself
with, you will permit me to make a slight search, just
N


nanoms or vrnoco. 135
I wish you could hear the little tailor who lives lower
down.”
. Husband. “ Oh, he speaks from a professional jea-
lousy.”
ll’i'fe. “ And the porteress at No. 27, who speaks
of what she knows well, says that she has seen lllID go
out every evenin with a thick stick, so well disguised
that she did not now him.” '
Husband. “ The orteress says that ?”
Wife. And that e went to lay wait for the people
in the Champs Elysées.” .
Husband. “ Are you growing foolish ? "
Wife. “ Ah, is that foolish! The cook-sho man,
perhaps is foolish, when he says that they were 1 rob-
bers who came in, and that he had seen M. Vidocq
with some very ill-looking fellows.”
Husband. “ Welll who had ill looks after ”
W ifs. “ After all, he is, said the commissary to
the grocer, a worthless man; and worse than that,
for he added that he was a vile criminal, and justice
could not get hold of him.”
Husband. “ And you talk nonsense; you believe
the commissary because he is beating up our quarters;
but I will never be persuaded that M. Vidocq is a dis-
honest man. I think, on the other hand, that he is a
good fellow, a punctual man. Besides, whatever he
may be, it is no business of ours; let us meddle with
our own affairs, and time wags onward ;—we must to
work; come quickly, to work, to work.”
The sitting was adjourned; father, mother, son, and
little daughter, all the Fossé family, went away, and I
remained locked u , reﬂecting on the perﬁdious insi-
nuations of the po ice, who to deprive me of the aid of
m neighbours, represented me as an infamous villain.
I have often seen, subsequently, this species of tactics
employed, the success of which is always founded on
atrocious calumnies and measures, revolting, because
unjust; clumsy, because they produce an effect
entirely contrary to that which is expected; for those


136 MEMOIRS or vinoc'ot
persons who would eXert themselves personally in the
apprehension of a thief, are revented from fear of
struggling with a man whom the feeling of crime and
the prospect of a scaffold, drives robably to despair.
I had been shut u for two hours ; there was no
noise either in the iiouse or in the street, and the
groups had dispersed ; I was beginning to take
courage, when I heard a key thrust into the lock,
and whilst I again squatted beneath the coverlid, the
father, mother, son, and daughter Fossé entered.
The father and son were quarrelling, and by the in—
terf rence of the mother I had no doubt but blows
wuﬂd arise, when, throwing aside the tattered curtains,
I made my appearance in the midst of the astonished
family. -It may be imagined how much the good folks
were surprised. Whilst they were looking at me with-
out saying a word, I told them as brieﬂy as possible
how I had got amongst them; how I had concealed
myself under the mattress, &c. The husband and wife
were astonished that I had not been stiﬂed in my place
of concealment; they pitied me, and with a cordlality
not'uncommon amongst people of their class, offered
me refreshments which were necessary after so painful
a morning. a
'It may be supposed that I was on thorns during the
progress of the whole affair; I perspired copiously; at
any other moment I sh0uld have been amused; but
when I reﬂected on the inevitable results of a disco-
very, none less than myself could appreciate the
burles ue of my situation. Supposing myself lost, I
Would ave expedited the fatal moment, it would have
cut short my train of perplexities ; a reﬂection on the
mobility of circumstances determined me to wait the
event ; I knew from more than one hour of experience,
that the best contrived schemes of man are discon-
certed, and sometimes we triumph over the most des-
perate cases.
After the reception afforded me by the Fossé' family,
it was probable t at I should have no reason to repent


MEMOIRS or VIDOCQ. 137
of having waited patientl for results. However, I was
not yet fully assured: t is family was not well off;
and it might happen that the ﬁrst impression of kind-
ness and compassion which the most perverse persons
sometimes ewrce, would give place to the hope of ob-
taining some reward by surrendering me to the police;
and then supposing my hosts to be what is called
‘ staunch,’ yet an in iscreet expression might betray me.
Without being endowed with much penetration, Fossé
guessed the secret of my uneasiness, which he suc-
ceeded in dissipating by protestations too sincere to be
doubted.
He undertook to watch over my safety, and began
by disclaiming any return for his kindness, and then
informed me, that the police agents had ﬁxed them-
selves in the house and the-' adjoining streets, and
intended to pay a second visit to all the lodgers
of the house. On these statements I judged that it
was imperative on me to get away, for they would
doubtlessly this time ransack all the a artments.
The Fossé family, like many other 0 the work-people
of Paris, used to sup at a wine-shop in the Vicinity,
where they carried their revisions, and it was agreed
that I should seize on t at moment to go out with
them. Till night I had time to form in plans, and
was ﬁrst occu ied with thinking how I s ould obtain
intelligence 0 Annette, when Fossé undertook this for
me. It would have been the height of im rudence to
have communicated directly with her, and e thus con-
trived it. He went into the Rue de Grammont, where
he bought a pie, into which he introduced the note
that follows:
“ I am in safety. Be careful of yourself, and trust
no one. Do not attend to promises from persons who
have neither the intention nor the power of serving
you. Conﬁne yourself to these four words: ‘I do
not know.’ Play the fool, which will be the best proof
of your sense. I cannot meet you ; but when you go
N 2


MEMOXRS 0F vmocq. 139
pursuit; for doubtless other searches more active
would be instituted. It was necessary to mislead the
police, 'whose numerous blood-hounds, according to
custom, would leave all other business, and occupy
themselves solely in hunting for me. At this critical
juncture I resolved to make use of those persons for
my Safety whom I considered as my denouncers. These
were the Chevaliers, whom I had seen on the previous
evening, and who in conversation had dropped some
of those words which make no impression at the time,
but which we reﬂect upon afterwards. Convinced
that I had no terms to keep henceforward with these
wretched beings, I determined to avenge myself 'on
them, whilst I compelled them to refund'all that I
could enforce from them. It was on a tacit understand-
ing that I had obliged them; and they had violated
the faith of treaties, even against their own interest;
they had done wrong; and I intended to punish them
for having mistaken their own interest.
The road is not far from the Boulevard to the Rue
de l’Echiquier, and I fell like a bomb-shell on Che-
valier’s domicile, whose surprise at seeing me at li-
berty conﬁrmed my suslﬁcions. He pretended at ﬁrst
an excuse for going out; but, double-locking the door,
and putting the key in my pocket, I seized on a knife
lying on the table, and told my brother-in-law that if he
uttered a cry it was all oVer with him and his family.
This threat could not fail to produce the due eﬂ‘ect :
I" was with people who knew me, and who feared the
violence of my despair. The women were more dead
than alive, and Chevalier, petriﬁed and motionless as
the stone-vessel on which he leant, asked me, with a
faint voice what I wanted from him? “You shall
know,” answered I.
' I began by asking for a complete suit of clothes,
with which I had provided him the month pre-
viously, and he gave it to me: I made him also give
me a shirt, boots and a hat; all of which havi been
purchased with my means, my demand was on y for


140 MEMOIRS or vrnocq.
restitution. Chevalier did all this with a stern look,
and I thought I read in his eyes the meditation of
some project; it might be that he intended to let his
neighbours know by some means the embarrassment
into which my presence threw him, and prudence de-
manded that I should ensure a retreat in case of a
nocturnal visit. A window, looking on a garden, was
closed by two iron bars; I ordered Chevalier to take
one of them out; and as, in spite of my directions,
he was exceedingly awkward about it, I took the work
in hand myself, without his perceiving that I had laid
down the knife which had inspired him with so much
fear; The operation ended, I again took up the
weapon: “ And now,” said I to him and the terriﬁed
women, “you may go to bed.” As for me, I was
hardly inclined to sleep, and threw myself into achair,
where I passed a very agitated nigth All the vicissi-
tudes of my life passed in review before me, and I
did not doubt that a curse hung over me: in vain
did I ﬂy from crime, crime came to seek me; and
this fatality, against which I struggled with all the
energy of my character, seemed to delight in overtum-
ing my plans of conduct, in incessantly placing me
in contact with infamy and imperious necessity.
At break of day I roused Chevalier, and asked him
what money he had, and on his replying that he only
had a few pieces of money I desired him to take four
silver knives and forks, which I had given him to take
his permit of residence, and to follow me. 1 had no
need of him, but it would have been dangerous to
leave him athome, for he might have informed the
olice, and directed them on my route, before I
ad concerted my plans. Chevalier obeyed, and I was
not very fearful of the women, as I took so precious
a hostage with me; and as, besides, they did not pre-
cisely partake of his feelings. I contented myself on
going out by double-locking the door, and we reached
the Champs Elysées by the most deserted streets of the'
capital, even in day-time. It was four o’clock in the


MEMOIRS or vmocq. 145
wards hard at work. This time I thought it best to
address his fellow-labourer, to whom I represented, in
the most glaring colours, the dangers which he ran.
“ I see,” answered the doctor, “that you are one of
those cowardly fellows of whom there are so great a
number. Suppose we are detected, what then? There
are many others who make their exit at the Place de
Gréve, and we are not there yet; for ﬁfteen years I
have used these ‘ chamber gentlemen ’ as my bankers,
and nobody has yet doubted me; it will do yet. And
besides, my friend,” he added in an ill-hiunoured tone,
“ do ou meddle with your own affairs.”
Affer the turn which this discussion took, I saw
that it would be superﬂuous to continue it, and that I
should do wisely to be on my guard, feeling still more
the necessity of quitting Paris as speedily as possible.
It was Tuesday, and I purposed starting on the follow-
ing day; but having learnt that Annette would be set
at liberty at the end of the week, I proposed deferring
my departure until her release, when on Friday, about
three o’clock in the morning, I heard a light knock at
the street-door; the nature of the rap, the hour, and
circumstance, all combined to make me think that they
were coming to take me; and saying nothing to Bouhin,
I went out on the staircase, and getting to the top,
I got hold of the gutter, and climbing on the roof,
hastened to conceal myself behind a stack at chimnies.
My presentiments had not deceived me, and in an
instant the house was ﬁlled with police-agents, who
searched everywhere. Surprised at not ﬁnding me,
and doubtless informed by my clothes, left near my
bed, that I had escaped in my shirt, which would not
allow me to go far, they imagined that I would not
have escaped by the usual way. For want of cavaliers
,to send in pursuit of me, they sent for some bricklayers,
who went all over the roof, where I was found and
seized, without the nature of the place allowing me
to offer any resistance, which could only have been.
VOL. 11. o


146 mnmoms or vmocq.
done at the risk of a most perilous leap. Excepta
few culfs, which the agents betOWed on me, my arrest
offered nothing remarkable. Conducted to the pre-
fecture, I was interrogated by M. Henry, who remem-
bering perfectly the oﬁ'er I had made him somejmonths
previously, promised to do all in his power to ease my
situation; but still I was taken to the Force, and thence
to Bicétre, to await the departure of the next chain of
galley-slaves.


148 msmomsbr vrnoco.
considered amongst robbers as the most cunning and
most hold. The most villanous sought my friendship,
because they thought there was still something to be
learnt from me, and the greatest novices collected my
very words as instructions from which they could ga-
ther proﬁt. At Bicétre, I had a complete court, and
they pressed around me, surrounded me, and made
' tenders of services and kind offers, and expressed re-
gards of which it would be difﬁcult to form an idea.
But now, this prison glory was hateful to me:
the more I read the soul of malefactors, the more
they laid themselvesppen to me, the more I pitied
society for having nourished in its bosom such olf-
spring. I no longer felt that sentiment of the ,com-
munity of misfortune which had formerly inspired my
breast; cruel experience and a riper age had convinced
me of the necessity of withdrawmg myself from these
brigands, whose society I loathed, and whose language
was an abomination to me. Decided, at any event, to
take part against them for the interest'of honest men,
I wrote to M. Henry to oﬂ‘er my services afresh, with-
out any other condition than that of not being taken
back to the Bagne, resigning myself to ﬁnish the dura-
tion of my sentence in any prison that might be se—
lected.
My letter pointed out so fully the information .I
could supply, that M. Henry was struck with it: one
only consideration balanced with him'; it was the ex_
ample of many accused or condemned persons, who
having engaged to guide the police in its searches, had
only given but triﬂing information, or had even ﬁnished
themselves by being detected in criminal deeds'. To
this powerful argument, I opposed the cause of my
condemnation, the regularity of my conduct after my
escapes, the constancy of my endeavours to 'procure
an honorable existence, and ﬁnally I produced my cor-
res ondence, my books, my punctuality and credit,
and) I called for the testimony of all persons with
whom I had transacted business, and particularly of


mnmorus .or VIDOCQ- 161
a student? I shall have occasion, at a later riod, to
revert to some of these calumnies, in seve chapters
in the following volumes; in which I shall develope
the system of police, its means, and mysteries: in fact,
all that has been ’revealed to me,—all that I have
known.
The engagement I had entered into was not so easily
fulﬁlled as may _be supposed. In fact, I had known a
crowd of malefactors; but, incessantly decimated b
excesses of all sorts,—by justice, by the horrible disci-
pline of bagnes and prisons,- by misery,—this hideous
generation had passed away With incredible rapidity:
a new race occupied the stage, and Iwas even ignorant
of the names of the actors who composed it; I was
not even informed of their exploits. A multitude of
robbers were then preying on the capital, and it was
impossible to furnish- the slightest indication of the
principal of them; it was only on my ancient renown
that I could rely for obtaining any information of the
staff of these Bedouins ofour civilization: it availed me,
I will not say beyond, but equal to what I could desire.
Not a robber arrived at the Force, who did not hasten
to seek my company, if he had never seen me, to give
himself consequence in the eyes of his comrades; it
fed his self-love to appear to be on terms of intimacy
with me. I encouraged this singular vanity, and thus
insensibly made many discoveries; informations came
to me in abundance, and I no longer experienced ob-
stacles in acquitting myself of my undertaking.
To give an idea of the inﬂuence I had with the pri-
soners, it is enough to say, that I inoculated them at
will with my opinions, my feelings, {my sentiments;
they thought by, they swore by me. If they happened
to take a prejudice against one of the risoners, be-
cause they thought he was what they cal ed ‘ a sneak,’
I had only to answer for him, and he was at once re-
established. I was at once a powerful protector and
a pledge of freedom, when it was suspected. The ﬁrst
for whom I gave a guarantee, was a young ,man, ac-


MEMOIRS or VIDOCQ. 1.53
peared to me sufﬁcient. I mentioned it to M. Henry,
who thereupon sent out his spies. The result of the
inquiry was as I had foreseen: they found out the
porter; and Coco being confronted with him, was over-
whelmed by the evidence, and sentenced by the tribu-
nal to two years’ imprisonment.
At this period there was in Paris a band of fugitive
‘galley-slaves, who daily perpetrated robberies, without
any hope being entertained of putting a termination to
their plunderings. Many of them had been appre-
hended, and acquitted for want of evidence; obstinately
entrenched in absence of witnesses, they had long
braved the attempts of justice, which could neither
oppose to them the testimony of the commission of
crime, nor proofs of guilt. To surprise them roperly,
it would have been necessar to know their omicile;
and they were so well concea ed, that discovery seemed
impossible. Amongst them was one named France
(called Tormel), who, on coming to the Force, had
nothing more urgent than to ask me for ten francs, to
pay his footing, and I was not inclined to refuse his
demand. He soon came to join me, and feeling obliged
to me, did not hesitate to give me his conﬁdence. At
the time of his arrest he had concealed two notes of
a thousand francs, from the police, which he gave to
me, begging me to advance him money, from time to
time, as he needed it. “ You do not know me,” said
he, “ but these bills speak for me; I trust them to
you, because I know they are better in your hands
than in mine; some time or other we will change
them, which now would be difﬁcult, and we must
wait.” ‘ I agreed with France, as he wished; I pro-
mised to be his banker, as I risked nothing.
Apprehended for violent burglary at an umbrella
shop in the passage Feydeau, France had been oﬂen
interrogated, and constantly declared that he had no
residence. However, the police had learnt that he had
an abode; and it was the more interesting to learn it,
as it would lead to discovery of instruments of rob-


154 MEMOIRS or vmocQ.
bery, as well as a great quantity of stolen goods. ‘ It
was a detection of the highest importance, since it
would adduce most material proofs. M. Henry! told
me that he relied on me for obtaining this informa-
tion; I manoeuvred accordingly, and soon learnt that '
at the time of his arrest, France was at the corner of
the Rue Montmartin and the Rue Notre-Dame des
Victoires, in an apartment let by a female receiver of
stolen goods, named Josephine Bertrand.
' These proofs were positive, but it was diﬂicult to
make use of the information without betraying my
share in the business to France, who, having only con-
fessed to me, could only7 suspect me of betraying him.
I, however, succeeded; and so little did he suspect that
I had abused his conﬁdence, that he told me all his
troubles, in pro ortion as the plan which I had con-
certed with M. FIenry progressed. Besides, the police
was so arranged, that the seemed only to be guided
by chance, and thus were t e arrangements made.
' They gained over to their interest one of the lod rs
of the house which France had inhabited; and this loger
told the landlord, that, for about three weeks, no
movement was seen in the apartment of madame Ber-
trand; and this awakened and afforded a wide ﬁeld'
for' conjecture. It was remembered that a person
went frequently in and out of this apartment; his ab-
sence was talked of, and it was a matter of astonish-
ment that he was not seen: the word disappearance
was mentioned, and thence the necessity of the inter-
vention of the c‘ommissary; then the opening thedoor
in presence of witnesses; then the discovery of a great
number of stolen property belonging to the neighbour-
hood, and many of the instruments made use of to
consummate these robberies. The next enquiry was,
what had become of Josephine Bertrand ? and all the
persons were visited to whom she had referred when
she hired the apartments, but nothing could be learnt
of this woman; only that a girl, named Lambert, who
had succeeded her in the apartment of the Rue Mout-


MEMOIRS or vinoco. 155
martre, had just been apprehended; and as this girl
was known as France’s mistress, it was conjectured
that these two had a common residence. France was
in consequence conducted to the spot, and recognized
by the neighbours. He retended that he had been taken
by surprise, and that t ey were mistaken, but the jury
before whom he was taken decided otherwise, and he
was condemned to the gallies for eight years.
France once convicted, it was easy to follow up the
traces of his comrades, two of whom were named Fos-
sard and Legagneur. They were watched, but the
negligence and want of address in the ofﬁcers enabled
them to escape the pursuit which I directed. The
former was a man the more dangerous, as he was very
skilful in making false keys. For ﬁfteen months he
seemed to defy the police, when one day I learnt that
he resided With a hair-dresser in Rue du Temple,
facing the common sewer. To apprehend him from
home was almost impossible, for he was skilful in dis-
guises, and could detect an oﬁicer a hundred paces 08‘;
on the other hand, it would be better to seize him in
the midst of his professional apparatus, and the pro-
duce of his robberies. But the undertaking presented
obstacles: Fossard never answered when they knocked
at his door, and it was most likely that he had a means
of egress and facilities for getting over the roofs. It
appeared to me, that the only mode of seizing him
was to proﬁt by his absence, and hide in his lodging.
M. Henry was of my opinion; and the door being
broken open in the resence of a commissary, three
cats placed themse ves in‘a closet adjoining a recess.
yearly seventy-two hours elapsed, and nobody arrived;
at the end of the third day, the oﬂicers having ex-
hausted their provisions, were goin away, when they
heard a key turn in the lock, an Fossard entered.
Immediately two of the ofﬁcers, in conformity with I
their instructions, darted from the closet and threw
themselves upon him; but Fossard, arminr himself
with a knife which they had left on t e table,


156 mamoms or viooco.
frightened them‘so, that the themselves opened the
door which their comrade ad closed; and, having
turned the key upon them, Fossard quickly descended
the staircase, leaving the three agents all the leisure
necessary for drawing up a report. in which nothing
was wanting except the circumstance of the knife,
which they were very cautious in mentioning. We
shall see, in the progress of these Memoirs, how, in
1814-, I contrived to arrest Fossard; and the particu-
lars of this expedition are not the least interesting of
these Memoirs. ‘
Before being sent to the Conciergerie, France, who
had never ceased to think me staunch, recommended
one of - his friends to me, named Legalgneur, a fugitive
galley-slave, arrested in the Rue de la Mortellerie, at
the moment when he was executing a robbery by the
aid of false keys; and this man, deprived of all re-
source in consequence of the departure of his cem-
rade, was thinking of sending for the money which he
had deposited with a receiver of stolen goods in the
Rue St Dominique, at the Gros-Caillou. Annette,-
who came constantly to see me at the Force, and
sometimes ably abetted me in my pursuits, was charged
with the commission; but either from distrust, or a
desire to retain it for himself, the receiver received
the messenger very ungraciously; and as she insisted,
he threatened her with an arrest. Annette returned
to-tellus that she had failed in her errand. At this
information Legagneur would‘have denounced the re-
ceiver, but that was only the ﬁrst impulse of anger.
Growing more calm, be judged it most ﬁtting to defer
his vengeance; “and, moreover, to make it turn to his
proﬁt. “ If I denounce him,” said he to me, “ not only
shall I get nothing by it, but he may contrive to ap-
pear not at all in fault. It will be best to wait until I
get out, and then I will make him squea .” Legag-
neur, having no farther hope from his receiver, deter-
mined to write to two accomplices, Margucrit and
Victor Desbois, renowned robbers. Convinced of this


MEMOIRS OF VIDOCQ.
exceeds belief, detailed to me all the minutcst circum-
stances of this murder. I heard this abominable recital
to the close, making incredible eﬁ'orts to conceal my
indignation; for every word which he uttered was of a
nature to make the hair stand on end of even the least
susceptible person. When the villain had ﬁnished
retracin , with a horrible ﬁdelity, the agonies of his
victim, urged him anew not to break off his friendship
with,Blignon: but at the same time I dexterously
threw oil on the ﬁre I a peared solicitous to extinguish.
My plan was to lead Chante a l’heure to make a public
confession of the horrible revelation to which rage and
revenge had spurred him on. I was further desirous
of being enabled to furnish justice with those means of
conviction which would be necessary to punish the
assassins. Much yet remained in uncertainty; possibly,
after all, this aﬁair was merely the fruits of an over-
heated brain, and Chante a l’heure when no longer
under the inﬂuence of wine and vengeance, might dis:-
avow all recollection of it. However the business
might terminate, I lost no time in dispatching to M.
Henry a report, in which I explained the affair, as well
as the doubts I myself entertained of its veracity; he
was not long in replying to my communication, that the
crime I alluded to was but too true. M. Henry begged
I would endeavour to procure for him the precise
account of everything which had preceded and followed
this murder; and the very next day my plans were laid
to obtain them. It was diﬁicult to procure the arrest
of any of the guilty party, without their suspecting the
hand which directed the blow; but in this dilemma, as
well as in many others in which I had been placed,
chance came to my assistance. The following day I
went to awaken Chante a l’heure, who, still suffering
from the intemperance of the preceding night, was
unable to quit his bed; I seated myself beside 'm, and
began to speak of the state of complete intoxication in
which I /had seen him, as well as of the indiscreet
actions he had committed, the reproof appeaged to as-
P


162 unmoms or vmoco.
tonish him, but when I repeated a few words of the
conversation we had held together, his surprise re-
doubled, and as I had foreseen, he protested the
impossibility of his having used such language; and
whether he had effectually lost his recollection, or
whether he mistrusted me, he tried hard to persuade
me that he had not the slightest remembrance of what
had passed. Whether he at this moment spoke the
truth, or not, I proﬁted by it to tell him that he had
not conﬁned his conﬁdential communications to one
alone, but had spoken of all the circumstances of the
murder in a loud tone, in the presence of several pri-
soners who were sitting near the ﬁre, and had heard all
that had passed as well myself. “ What an unlucky
fellow I am,” cried he, with ever sign of sinceredis-
tress. “ 'What have I done ‘P hat is to be done to
extricate myself from the situation in which it places
me ?”—“ Nothing is more simple,” said I; “ if you
should be questioned as to the scene of yesterday, you
can say, ‘ Upon my word, when I have taken too much
drink, I say or do anything; and if I happen to have a
spite against a man, I do not now what I might invent
about him.’ ” Chante a l ’heure took all this for
genuine .advice; but on the same morning, a man
named Pinson, who passed for a great sneak, was con-
ducted from La Force to the ofﬁce of the préfet : this
exchange could not have occurred more opportunely
for my project, and I hastened to ac uaint Chante a
l’heure with it, adding that all the pnsoners believed
the Pinson was only removed in the expectation of his
making some very important discoveries.
At this intelligence he appeared thunderstruck:
“ Was he one of those who were present when I was
talking the other night i” asked he with strong anxiety.
I replied that I had not particularly observed; he then
communicated to me more frankly his fears, and I ob-
tained from him fresh particulars, which, sent off with-
out delay to M. Henry, caused all the accomplices in
this murder to fall into the hands of justice; the


184 manoras or vmocq.
put an end to my detention. Every measure was taken
that it might not be known that I had recovered my li-
berty; they sent to fetch me from La Force, and carried
me from thence without neglecting any of their rigorous
precautions. My handcuﬁ's were replaced, and I
ascended the wicker car with the private understanding
that l was to escape on the road, and I was not slow
in roﬁting by this permission. The same night my
ﬂight was made known, and all the police were in searc
of me.‘ This escape caused much noise, particularly
at La Force, where my friends celebrated it with re-
joicings, drank to my health, and wished me a safe and
prosperous journey.


MEMOIRS or vmoco. 165
CHAPTER XXIV.
M. Henry, surnamed the Evil Spirit—MM. Bertaux and Parisnt
—-A word respecting the police—My ﬁrst capture—Bouhin and
Terrier are arrested upon my information.
THE names of baron Pasquier and M. Henry will
never be eﬂ'aced from my recollection; these two
generous men were my liberators; how many thanks
do I not owe them! They restored me more than
my life; for them I would cheerfully sacriﬁce it; and
the reader will believe me, when he learns that I have
frequently exposed it to obtain from them a single
word, or a glance of satisfaction. I breathed once
more the air of liberty; my blood' ﬂowed freely
through my veins; I no longer feared anything. The
secret agent of government, I had duties marked out,
and the kind and respectable M. Henry took upon
himself to instruct me in their fulﬁlment; for in his
hands were entrusted nearly the entire safety of the
capital: to prevent crimes, discover malefactors, and
to give them up to justice, were the principal functions
conﬁded to me. The task was difﬁcult to perform.
M. Henry kindly guided my ﬁrst steps; he smoothed
the difﬁculties of it for me; and if in the end Iac-
quired some celebrity in the police, I owe it to his
counsels, as well as to the excellent lessons I received
from him. Gifted with a cool and reﬂective character, -
M. Henry possessed, in its utmost perfection, that
tact of observation which can detect culpability under
the greatest appearance of innocence: he had an
astonishing memory; an acute penetration, from which
nothing escaped; added to which, he was an excellent
'udge'of countenances. By thieves he was styled the
vil Spirit; and well did he merit the surname, for
with him, cunning and suavity of manners were so '


166 MEMOlRﬁ or vmoco.
conjoined as seldom to fail in their purpose. Rarely
indeed did a criminal, interrogated by him, quit his
closet without having confessed his crime, or given,
unknown to himself, some clue by which to convict
him. With M. Henry it was a sort of instinct which
conducted him to the discovery of truth; it was not
an acquired possession; and whoseover mi ht have
sought to assume his manner, to obtain t e same
results, would ﬁnd himself continually perplexed and
uncertain; for, cameleon-like, he changed with eve
circumstance, and varied with each character wit
whom he had to deal. Devoted to the duties of his
post, he, in a manner, lived but for it, and was at all
times accessible to the public business. It was not
necessary under his management to wait till the hour
of twelve before his ofﬁces were open to receive com-
plaints, or, according to the present practice, to wait
for hours in an antichamber ere an audience could be
obtained. Industrious and persevering, no species of
fatigue disheartened him; and to this undeviating
course of life may be attributed the man inﬁrmities
with which he was aﬂ'licted, when, at t e close of
thirty-ﬁve years hard service, he retired from oﬂice.
I have fre uently seen him passing two or three nights.
in the weelr, and the greater part of his time, medi-
tating upon the instructions he was about to give me,
or to effect the prompt repression of crimes of ever
species. Illnesses (and he had many very severe ones
Were scarcely permitted to interrupt his labours; it
was only when carried into his study that he would
listen to the directions of his physiclans. In a word,
he was a man, such as there are but very few, if indeed
there exist any, like him; his very name was a terror to
offenders, and when brought before him, audacious as
they were, they trembled and became confused; they
blundered in their answers, ﬁrmly believing that eqm-
vocation or denial was useless with one whom they
ﬁrmly imagined had the power of reading their most
inward thoughts. _
n


neurons or vrooco. 167
One remark which I have often had occasion to
make is, that efﬁcient men are always the best
seconded; perhaps in veriﬁcation of the old proverb,
that “ birds of a feather ﬂock together.” I leave the
decision of the point to wiser heads than mine; but
this I know, that M. Henry had coadjutors worthy of
him; amongst the number was M. Bertaux, a cross-
examiner of great merit, whose particular talent con-
sisted in sifting a thing to the bottom, however intricate
it might a pear. The proofs of his talent may be
found in t e archives of the court. Next to him,
I have great pleasure in naming M. Parisot, governor
of the prisons. In a word, MM. Henry, Bertaux, and
Parisot, formed a veritable triumvirate, which was
incessantly conspiring against the perpetrators of all
manner of crimes; to extirpate rogues from Paris,
and to procure for the inhabitants of this immense
city a perfect security: such was their mutual aim,
their only thought, and the eﬂ'ects amply repaid them
for the attempt. It is true, that there existed at this
time amongst the heads of the olice, a frankness, an
unanimity, and a cordiality, which have disappeared
in the last ﬁve or six years. In the present day,
chiefs or subalterns mistrust each other; they reci-
procally fear and hate each other; a continual state
of hostilities is kept up; each dreads in his comrade
a foe who will denounce him; there is no longer a
sympathy of action in the different departments of the
administration: and from whence does this proceed ?
Because each man’s post and duties are not sufﬁciently
deﬁnite. Nothing is distinctly deﬁned; and no person,
even of those highest in ofﬁce, is placed in the de-
partment for which he is best ﬁtted. Most usually,
the préfet himself, on being elected to ﬁll that im-
portant situation, is wholly ignorant of the duties of
the police, and yet he ascends at once to the highest
rank in it, there to pass through his apprenticeship.
In his train follow a crowd of protegés, whose least
fault is that of being destitute of decided talent, but


MEMOIRS or VIDOCQ. 169
his propert ; or at least that he would send some
person to etch it from thence; consequently, I di-
rected all my vigilance to this spot; and after having
reconnoitred the house, I lay in ambush in its vicinity
night and day, in order to keep a watchful eye upon
all comers and goers. This went on for nearly a
week, when, weary of not observing anything, I de-
termined upon engaging the master of the house in
my interest, and to hire an apartment of him, where
l accordingly established myself with 'Annette, certain
that my presence could 've rise to no suspicion. I
had occupied this post. or about ﬁfteen days, when
one evening, at eleven o’clock, I was informed that
\Vatrin had just come, accompanied by another person.
Owing to a slight indisposition, I had retired to bed
earlier than usual; however, at this news I rose
hastily, and descended the staircase by four stairs at
a time; but whatever diligence I might use, I was only
just in time to catch Watrin’s companion; him I had
no right to detain, but I made myself sure that I
might, by intimidation, obtain further particulars
from him. I therefore seized him, threatened him,
and soon drew from him a confession, that he was a
shoemaker, and that Watrin lived with him, No. 4
Rue des Mauvais Garcons. This was all I wanted to
know: [had only had time to slip an old great coat
over my shirt, and, without sto ping to put on more
garments, I hurried on to the p ace thus inted out
to me. I reached the house at the very instant that
some person was quitting it: persuaded that it was
Watrin, I attempted to seize him; he escaped from
me, and I darted after him up a staircase; but at the
moment of grasping him, a violent blow which struck
my chest drove me down twenty stairs. I sprung
forward again, and that so quickly, that to escaEe
from my pursuit he was compelled to return into t e
house through a sash window. I then knocked loudly
at the door, summoning him to open it without delay.
This he refused to do. I then desired Annette (who
Q


170 mmoras or name.
had followed me) to go in search of thee guard, and
whilst she was preparmg to obey me, I counterfeited
the noise of a man descending the stairs. Watrin,
deceived by this feint, was anxious to satisfy himself
whether I had actually gone, and softly put his head
out of window to observe if all was safe. This was
exactly what I wanted. I made a vigorous dart for-
wards, and seized him by the hair of his head: he
grasped me in the same manner, and a desperate
struggle took place: jammed against the partition wall
which separated us, he opposed me with a determined
resistance. Nevertheless, I felt that he was growing
weaker; I collected all my strength for a last effort;
I strained every nerve, and drew him nearly out of
the window through which we were struggling: one
more trial and the victory was mine; but in the
earnestness of my grasp we both rolled on the passage
ﬂoor, on to which I had pulled him: to rise, snatch
from his hands the'shoemaker’s cutting-knife with
which he had armed himself, to bind him and lead
him out of the house, was the work of an instant.
Accompanied onl by Annette, I conducted him to
the prefecture, where I received the congratulations
ﬁrst of M. Henry, and afterwards those of the prefect
of police, who bestowed on me a pecuniary recom-
pense. Watrin was a man of unusual address; he
followed a coarse clumsy business, and yet he had
given himself up to making counterfeit money, which
required extreme delicacy of hand. Condemned to
death, he obtained a reprieve the very hour that was
destined for his execution; the scaffold was prepared;
he was taken down from it, and the amateurs of such
scenes experienced a disappointment. All Paris re-
members it. A report was in circulation that he was
about to make some very important discoveries; but
as he had nothing to reveal, a few days afterwards he
underwent his sentence.
Watrin was my ﬁrst capture, and an important one
too; this successful beginning awoke the jealousy of


MEMOIRS or vxnoco. 171
the peace-ofﬁcers, as well as those under my orders ;
all were exasperated against me, but in vain; they
could not forgive me for being more successﬁil than
themselves. The superiors, on the contrary, were highly
pleased with my conduct; and I redoubled my zeal
to render myself still more worthy their conﬁdence.
About this period a vast number of counterfeit ﬁve-
franc pieces had got into general circulation; several
of them were shown to me; whilst examining them,
I fancied I could discover the workmanshi of Beuhin
(who had informed against me) and 0 his friend,
doctor Terrier. I resolved to satisfy my mind as to
the truth of this; and in conse uence of this determi-
nation, I set about watching t e ste s of these two
individuals; but as I durst not follow t em too closely,
lest they might recognise me, and mistrust my obser-
vation, it was diﬁicult for me to obtain the intelligence
I wanted. Nevertheless, by dint of unwearied per-
severance, I arrived at the certainty of my not having
mistaken the matter, and the two coiners were arrested
in the very act of fabricating their base coin; they
were shortly after condemned and executed for it.
It has been publicly asserted, in consequence of a
report set on oot by the inspectors of the police, that
Dr Terrier had been led away by me, and that I had
in a manner placed in his hands the instruments of
his crime.
Let the reader remember the reply which this man
made to me, when, at Bouhin’s house, I sought to
persuade him to renounce his guilty industry, and he
will judge whether Terrier was a man to allow himself
to be drawn away.


l72 MEMOIRS or vmoco.
CHAPTER XXV.
I again meet St Germain—He proposes to me the murder Of
two old men—The plunderers~The grandson of Cartouche“
A short account at instigating agents—Great perplexitiea—
Annette again aids me—Au attempt to rob the house of a
banker in the Rue ﬂluteville—i am killed—Arrest of St
Germain and his accomplice Boudin—Portraits of these two
assassins.
IN so populous a capital as that of Paris, there are
usually, a vast man places of bad resort, at which
assemble persons 0 broken fortune and ruined fame;
in order to judge of them under my own eye, I fre-
quented every house and street of ill fame, sometimes
under one disguise and sometimes under another,
assuming indeed all those rapid changes of dress and
manner which indicated a person desirous of con-
cealing himself from the observation of the police, till
the rogues and thieves Whom I daily met there ﬁrmly
believed me to be one of themselves; persuaded of my
being a runaway, they would have been cut to pieces
before I should have been taken; for not only hadI
acquired their fullest conﬁdence, but'their strongest
‘re d; and so much they respect my situation, as
a ugitive galley-slave, that they would not even pro-
ose tome to join in any of their daring schemes, lest
it might compromise my safety. All however did not
exercise this delicacy, as will be seen hereafter. Some
months had passed since I commenced my secret in-
vestigations, when chance threw in my way St Ger-
main, whose visits had so oiten ﬁlled me with con-
sternation. He had with him a person named Boudin,
whom I had formerlyfseen as a restaurateur in Paris,
in the Rue des Prouvaires, and of whom I knew no
more than that trifling acquaintance which arose from
my occasionally exchanging my money for his dinners.
.He however seemed easily to recollect me, and, ad-


MEMOIRS or vmoco. 173
dressing me with a bold familiarity, which my deter-
mined coolness seemed unable to subdue, “ Pray,” said
he, “have I been guilty of any offence towards you,
that you seem so resolved upon cutting me ? ”—“ By
no means, sir,” replied I; “ but I have been informed
that you have been in the service of the police?“
“ Oh, oh, is that all?” cried he, “ never mind that,
my boy; suppose I have, what then? I had my
reasons; and when I tell you what they were, I am
quite sure you will not hear me any ill will for it.”—
“ Come, come,” said St Germain, “ I must have you
good ,friends; Boudiu is an excellent fellow, and I
will ansWer for his honour, as I would do for my own.
Many a thing happens in life we should never have
dreamt of, and if Boudiu did accept the situation you
mention, it was but to save his brother: besides, you
must feel satisﬁed, that were his principles such as a
gentleman ought not to possess, why, you would not ﬁnd
him in my company.” I was much amused with this
excellent reasoning, as well as with the pledge given
for Boudin’s good faith: however, I no longer sought
to avoid the conversation of Boudin. It was natural
enough that St Germain should relate to me all that
had happened to him since his last disappearance,
which had given me such pleasure.
After complimenting me on my ﬂight, he informed
me that after my arrest he had recovered his employ-
ment, which be however was not fortunate enough to
keep; he lost it a second time, and had since been
compelled to trust to his wits to procure a subsistence.
I requested he would tell me what had become of .
Blondy and Deluc? “ What,” said he, “ the two who
slit the waggoner’s throat? Oh, why the guillotine
settled their business at Beauvais.” When I learnt
that these two villains had at length reaped the just
reward of their crimes, I experienced but one regret,
and that was, that the heads of their worthless accom-
plices had not fallen on the same scaﬂ'old.
After we had sat together long enough to empty seé
Q 2


174 ' manoms or vinoco.
veral bottles of wine, we separated. At parting St Geri
main having observed that I was but meanly clad, ens
quired what I was doing, and as I carelessly answered
that at present I had no occupation, he promised to do
his best for me, and to push my interest the ﬁrst op-
portunity that offered. I suggested that, as I Very
rarely ventured out for fear of being arrested, we
might not possibly meet again for some time. You
can see me, whenever you choose, said he; I shall ex-
pect that you will call on me frequently. Upon my
promise to do so, he gaVe me his address, without once
thinking of asking for mine.
St Germain was no longer an object of such exces-
sive terror as formerly in my eyes; I even thought it
my interest to keep him in sight, for if I applied my-
self to scrutinizing the actions of suspicious persons, who
-. better than he called for the most vigilant attention?
In a word, I resolved upon purging society of such a
monster. Meanwhile I waged a determined war with
all the crowd of rogues who infested the capital.
About this time robberies of every species were multi-
plying to a frightful extent: nothing was talked of but
stolen palisades, o'i'it-houses broken open, roofs stripped
of their lead; more than twenty reﬂecting lamps were
successively stolen from the Rue Fontaine au Roi,
without the plunderers being detected. For a whole
month the inspectors had been lying‘in wait in order
to surprise them, and the ﬁrst night of their disconti-
nuing their vigilance the same depredations took place.
In this state, which appeared like setting the police at
deﬁance, I accepted t e task which none seemed able
to accomplish, and in a very short time (to the great
disap ointment of all the Arguses of the Quai du
Nord I was enabled to bring the whole band of these
shameless plunderers to public justice, which imme-
diately consigned them to the gallies. One amongst
them was named Cartouche. I do not know whether
the name he bore had any particular inﬂuence over
him, or whether he possessed any quality peculiar to


MEMOIRI or vtnocq. 175
his family; probably he might be a descendant of the
celebrated Cartouche. I leave to genealogists the
trouble of deciding the question.
Each day encreased the number of my discoveries;
Of the many who were committed to prison, there were
none who did not owe their arrest to me, and yet not
one of them for a moment suspected my share in the
business. I managed so well, that neither within nor
without its walls, had the slightest suspicion transpired.
The thieves of my acquaintance looked upon me as
their best friend and true comrade; the others esteemed
themselves happy to have an opportunity of initiating
me in their secrets, whether for the pleasure of con-
versing with me, or in the hope of beneﬁting by my
counsels. It was principally beyond the barriers that
I met with these unfortunate beings. One day that I
was crossing the outer boulevards, I was accosted by ‘
St Germain, who was still accompanied by Boudin.
They invited me to dinner; I accepted the proposi-
tion, and over a bottle of wine they did me the honour
to propose that I should make a third in an intended
' murder.
The matter in hand was to dispatch two old men,
who lived together in the house which Boudin had
formerly occupied in the Rue des Prouvaires. Shudder-
ing at the conﬁdence placed in me by these villains,
1 yet blessed the invisible hand which had led them
to seek my aid. At ﬁrst I aﬂected some scruples at en-
tering into the plot, but at last feigned to yield to
their lively and pressing solicitations, and it was
agreed that we should wait the favourite moment
for putting into execution this most execrable project.
This resolution taken, I bade farewell to St Germain
and his companion, and (decided upon preventing the
meditated crime) hastened to carry a report of the af-
fair to M. Henry, who sent me without loss of time to
obtain more ample details of the discovery I had just
made to him. His intention was to satisfy himself
whether I had been really solicited to take part in it,


176 msmoms or VIDOCQ.
or whether from a mistaken devotion to the cause
of justice, I had endeavoured to instigate those
unhappy men to an act which would render them
amenable to it. I protested that I had adopted no‘
such expedient, and as he discovered marks of truth in
my manner and declaration, he expressed himself- sa-
tisﬁed. He did not, however, omit to impress on me
the following discourse upon instigating agents, which
penetrated my very heart. Ah, why was it not like-
wise heard by those wretches, who since the revolution
have made so many victims l The renewed era of le—
gitimacy would not then in some circumstances have
recalled the bloody days of another epoch. “Remem-
ber well,” said M. Henry to me in conclusion, “re-
member that the greatest scourge of society is he who
urges another on to the commission of evil. Where there
are no instigators to bad practices, they are committed
only by the really hardened; because they alone are
ca able of conceiving and executing them. _ Weak
belngs may be drawn aWa and excited : to precipitate
them into the abyss, it requently requires no more
than to call to our aid their passions or selflove;
but he who a ' himself of their weakness to pro-
cure their destruction, is more‘than a monster—he is
the guilty one, and it is on his head that the sword of
justice should fall. As to those engaged in the police,
they had better remain for ever idle, than create matter
for employment.”
Although this lesson was not required in my case,
yet I thanked M. Henry for it, who enjoined me not
to lose sight of the two assassins, and to use every
means in my power to prevent their arriving at the
completion of their diabolical plan. “ The police,”
said he, “is instituted as much to correct and punish
malefactors, as to prevent their committing crimes;
but on every occasion I would wish it to be understood,
that we hold ourselves under greater obligations to that
person who prevents one crime, than to him who pro-
cures the punishment of many.” Conformany with


nsmoms or vmoco. 177
'these instructions, I did not allow o si la day to pass
without seeing St Germain and his ngriend Boudin.
As the blow they meditated was to rocure them a
considerable quantity of gold, I conclu ed that I might,
without overacting my art, affect a degree of im~
patience about it. “ ell,” said I to them, every
time we met, “ and when is this famous affair to take
place ?”-—-“ Whenl” replied St Germain, “ the fruit
is not yet ripe; when the right time comes,” added he,
pointing to Boudin, “ my friend there will let you
know.” Already had several meetings taken place,
and yet nothing was decidedly arranged; once more I
hazarded the usual question. “Ahl ah!” said St
Germain, “ my good friend, now I can satisfy your
natural curiosity; we have ﬁxed upon tomorrow even-
ing, and only waited for you to deliberate upon the
best way of going to work." The meeting was ﬁxed
a little way out of Paris. I was punctual to the time
and place, nor did St Germain keep me waiting.
“ Hark ye,” said he, “ we have reﬂected upon this
affair, and ﬁnd that it cannot be put into execution for
the present. We have, however, another to propose
to you; and I warn you, you must say at once, without
any equivocation, {yes’ or ‘ no.’ Before we enter upon
the object of my coming hither, it is but fair I should
let you into a little conﬁdential story respecting
yourself, which was told to me by one Carré, who
knew you at la Force. The tale runs, that you only
escaped its walls upon condition of serving the police
'as its secret agent I ”
At the words ‘ secret agent,’ a feeling almost ap-
proaching to suffocation stole over me, but I quickly
rallied upon perceiving that, however true the report
might be, it had obtained but little faith with St Ger-
main, who was evidently waiting for my explanation
or denial of it, without once suspecting its reality.
My ever ready genius quickly ﬂew to my aid, and with_
out hesitation I replied, “ that I was not much surprised


180 MBMOIRS or VIDOCQ.
money, and always ready to purchase it either with his
own blood or that of others; however, as yet it was
but ten o’clock in the morning ;' I hoped that,
during the long interval between that hour and mid-
night, some opportunity would present itself of dexte-
rously stealing awa and giving information to the o-
lice. Meanwhile, lmade not the slightest objection
to the proposition of St Germain, which was indeed
the best pledge we could separately have of the good
faith of the others. When he perceived that we were
all agreed, St Germain, who, by his energy, his talents
for plotting and carrying his schemes into execution,
was the real head of the conspiracy, expressed his
satisfaction, and added further—“ this unanimity is
what I like; and I beg to say, that, for myself, I will
leave nothing undone to merit the continuance of so
ﬂattering a consent to my wishes and o inions."
It was agreed that we should take a ackney coach,
and proceed together to his house, situated in the Rue
St Antoine. Arrived there, we ascendedinto his
chamber, where he was to keep us under lock and
key until the instant of departure. Conﬁned between
four walls, in close converse with these robbers, I
knew not what saint to invoke, and what pretext to
invent, to effect my escape. St Germain would have
blown out my brains at the least suspicion; and how
to act, or what was to be done, I knew not. My only
plan was to resign myself to the event, be it what it
might; and this determination taken, I affected to busy
myself with the preparatives for our crime, the very
vsight of which redoubled my perplexity and horror.
Pistols were laid on the table, in order to have the
charges drawn and to be properly reloaded. Whilst
they underwent a strict scrutiny, St Germain remarked
a pair which _seemed to him no longer able “ to do the
state any service ;’,’ he laid them 'aside—“ Here,” said
he, “ these ‘toothless barkers’ will never _do; whilst
the rest of you are loading and priming your batteries,
1 will get these changed for’ others more likely to aid
~


mamorns or \‘IDOCQ. 181
our purpose. As he was preparing to quit the room,
I bade him remember that, according to our contract,
none of us could quit the place without being accom-
panied by a second. “ Right—quite right,” replied he;
“ I like people not only to make, but to keep engage-
ments; so come with me.”——“ But,” said I, “these
other two gentlemen?”—“ Oh!” laughed St Ger-
main, “ they shall be kept out of harm’s way till our
return;” so saying, he very coolly double-locked the
door upon them, and then taking me by the arm, led
me to a shop from which he generally supplied himself
with what he required for his various expeditions.
Upon the present occasion he purchased some balls,
owder, ﬂints, exchanged the old pistols for new ones,
and then declaring his business completed, returned
with me to his house. On entering I felt afresh thrill
of horror, from perceiving how earnestly and yet calmly
the wretch Boudin was occupied in sharpening two
large dinner-knives on a hone;-—the sight froze my
blood, and I turned away in disgust.
Meanwhile the time was assing away; one o’clock
struck, and no expedient of) safety had yet presented
itself. I yawned and stretched, feigning weariness, and
going into an apartment adjoining the one in which we
had assembled, threw myself on a bed, as if in search
of repose; after a few instants, I appeared still more
ﬁdgetty with this indolence, and I could perceive that
the others were not less so than myself. “ Suppose
we have a glass of something to cheer us,” cried St
Germain. “ An excellent idea!” I replied, almost
leaping for joy at the unexpected opening it seemed
likely to afford my scheme; “ a most capital thought—-
and by way of helping it, if you can manage to send to
my house, you may have a glass of Burgundy, such as
cannot be met with every day.“ All declared the
thought a most' seasonable relief to the ennui which
was beginning to have hold of them, now that all
their work of preparation was at an end; and St Ger-
main without .further delay dispatched his porter to
VOL. II. ‘ n


182 MEMOIRS or VIDOCQ.
Annette, who was requested to bring the promised
treat herself. It was agreed that nothing relative to our
plan should be uttered before her; and whilst my three
companions were indulging in rough jokes upon the
unexpected pleasure thus offered them, I carelessly
resumed my place on the bed, and whilst there traced
with a pencil these few lines—-“ When you leave this
place, disguise yourself; and do not for an instant lose
sight of myself, St Germain, or Boudin. Be careful
to avoid all observation; and, above all, be sure to.
pick up anything I may let fall, and to convey it
as directed.” Short as was this hurried instruc-
tion, it was, I knew, sufﬁcient for Annette, who
had frequently received similar directions, and I felt
quite assured that she would comprehend it in its.
fullest sense. It was not long before she joined us,
bringing with her the basket of wine. Her appearance
was the signal for mirth and gaiety. She was compli-
mented by all; and as for myself, under the semblance
of thanking her for her ready attendance with an em-
brace, I managed to slip the billet into her hand:
she understood ine, took leave of the company, and
left me far happier than I had felt an hour before.
\Ve made a hearty di,nner, after which I suggested
the idea of going alone WIth St Germain, to reconnoitre
the scene of action, in order to be provided with the
means of guarding against any accident. As this
seemed merely the counsel of a prudent man, ices.
cited no suspicion; the only difference in his opinion
and mine, was, that I proposed taking a hackney-coach,
whilst he judged it better to walk. When we reached
» the part he considered most favourable for scaling, he
pointed it out to me; and I took care to observe it so
well, that I could easily describe it to another, without
fear of any mistake arising. This done, St Germain
rccollected that we had all better cover our faces with
black crepe; and we proceeded towards the Palais Roy-
al, for the purpose of buying some ; and whilst he was
in a shop, examining the diﬂ‘erent sorts, I managed to


184 mentor“ or vmocq.
again met the eye of my faithful Annette, whose
glance satisﬁed me that all my commissions had been
attended to. Just then, Debenne enquired of me the
place of rendezvous. I know not what good genius
suggested to me the idea of saving this unhappy crea»
ture. I had observed that he Was not wicked at heart,
and that he seemed rather drawn towards the abyss of
guilt by want and bad advice, than by any natural in-
'clination for crime. I hastily assigned to him a post,
away from the spot which had been agreed on; and,
happy in having saved him from the snare, rejoined
St Germain and Boudin, at the angle of the boulevard
St Denis. It was now about half-past ten, and I gave
them to understand that the cabriolet would require
some time in getting ready; that I had given orders to
,Debenne, that he should take his station in the corner
of the Rue du Faubourg Poissonniere, ready to hasten
to us at the slightest signal. 1 observed to them, that
the sight of a cabriolet, too near to the place of our
labours, might awaken suspicion; and they agreed in
thinking my precautions wisely taken. '
Eleven o’clock struck—we took a glass together in
the fauxbourg St Denis, and then directed our steps
towards the banker’s habitation. The tranquillity of
Boudin and his infamous associate, had something in it
almost ﬁend-like: they walked coolly along, each with
his pipe in his mouth, which was only removed to
hum over some loose song.
At last we arrived at the part of the garden wall it
had been determined to scale, by means of a large
post, which would serve as a ladder. St Germain de-
manded my pistols ;—-—my heart began to beat violently,
for I fully expected, that, having by some ill chance
penetrated my real share in the affair, he meant that I
should answer for it with my life: resistance would
have been useless, and I put them into his hands; but,
to my extreme relief, he merely opened the pan, changed
the priming, and returned them to me. After having
performed a similar operation on his own pistols and


mamorns 0F vrnoco. 185
those of Boudin, he set the example of climbing the
post; Boudin followed; and both of them, without
interrupting their smoking, sprung into the garden: it
became my turn to follow them : trembling, I reached
the top of the wall; all my former apprehensions
crowded back upon me.‘ Had the police yet had time
to lay their ambuscade? Might not St Germain have
preceded them? These and 'a thousand similar ques-
tions agitated my mind. My feelings were, however,
wrought up to so high a pitch, that, in the midst of
such a moment of cruel suspense, I determined on one
measure, namely, to prevent the commission of the
crime, though I sunk in the unequal struggle. How-
ever, St Germain seeing me still sitting astride on the
top of the wall, and becoming impatient at my delay,
cried out, “ Come, come, down with you.” Scarcely
had he said the words, than he was vigorously attacked
by a number of men. Boudin and himself offered a
des erate resistance. A brisk ﬁring commenced—the
bal s whistled—and, after a combat of some minutes,
the two assassins were seized, though not before seve-
ral of the police had been wounded. St Germain and
his companion were likewise much hurt. ~ For myself,
as I took no part in the engagement, I was not likely
to come to any harm: nevertheless, that I might sus—
tain my part to the end, I fell on the ﬁeld of battle, as
though I had been mortally wounded. The next in-
stant I was wrapped in a covering, and in this manner
conveyed to a room where Boudiu and St Germain
were; the latter appeared deeply touched at my death;
he shed tears, and it was necessary to employ force to
remove him from what he believed to be my corpse.
St Germain was a man of about ﬁve feet eight inches
high, with strongly developed muscles, an enormous
head, and very small eyes, half closed, like those of an
owl; his face, deeply marked with the small pox, was
extremely plain; and yet, from the quickness and
vivacity of his expression, he was by many persons
considered pleasing. In describing his fgatures, a
, R a


186 MEMOle or vioocq.
strong resemblance would suggest itself to those of
the hyena and wolf, particularly if the attention were
directed to his immensely wide jaws, furnished with
large projecting fangs; his very organization parth
of the animal instinct common to beasts of prey; he
was passionately fond of hunting; the sight of H.de
exhilarated him: his other passions were gaming,
women, and good eating and drinking. As he had
acquired the air and manners of good society, he
expressed himself when he chose with ease and ﬂu-
ency, and was almost always fashionably and elegantly
dressed; he might be styled a “ well-bred thief.” When
his- interest required it, no person could better
assume the pleasant mildness of an amiable. man; at
other times he was abrupt and brutal. His comrade
Boudin was diminutive in stature, scarcely reaching ﬁve
feet two inches ;’thin, with alivid complexion; his eyes
dark and piercing, and deeply sunk in his head. The I
habit of wielding the carving-knife, and of cutting up
meat had rendered him ferocious. He was bow-
legged; a deformity I have observed amongst several
systematic assassins, as well as amongst many other
individuals distinguished by their crimes.
‘ I cannot remember any event of my life which
afforded me more real satisfaction than the taking of
these two villains. I applauded myself for having
delivered society from two monsters, at the same time
that I esteemed myself fortunate in having saved
Debenne from the fate which would have befallen
him, had he been taken with them. However, the
share of self-satisfaction produced by the feeling of
having been instrumental in rescuing a fellow-creature
from destruction, was but a slight compensation for
the misery I experienced at being in a manner com-
pelled by the stem duties of the post I ﬁlled, either
to send a fresh succession of victims to ascend the
scaffold, or to mount it myself. The quality of ‘secret
agent’ preserved, it is true, my liberty, and shielded
me from the dangers t0\which, as a fugitive galley-


mnmoms oslvrnoco. v187
slave, I was formerly exposed; true, I 'was no longer
subjected to the many terrors which had once agitated
me: but still I was not pardoned; and until that happy
event took place, the liberty I enjoyed was but a'
precarious possession, which the caprice of my em-
ployers could deprive me of at any moment. Again,
was not insensible to the general odium attached to
the department I ﬁlled. Still, revolting as were its
functions to my own choice and mind, it was a neces-
sary evil, and one from which there was no escape.
Itherefore strove to reconcile myself to it by argu-
ments such as these :-—Was I not daily occupied in
endeavouring to promote the welfare of society? Was
I not espousing the part of the good and upright
against the bad and vicious? And should I by these
steps draw down upon me the contempt of mankind?
I went about dragging guilt from its hidden recesses,
and unmasking its many schemes of blood and mur-
der; and should I for this be pointed out with the
ﬁnger of scorn and hatred? Attacking thieves, even
on the very theatre of their crimes—wresting from
them the weapons with which they had armed them-
selves, I boldly dared their vengeance; and did I for
this merit to be despised? My reason became con-
vinced ; and my mind, satisﬁed of the upright motives
which guided me, regained its calmness and self-com-
mand ; and thus armed, I felt that I had courage to
dare the ingratitude and obloquy of an unjust opinion
respecting me and my occupation.
gs


MEMOIRS or VlDOCQ. 189
beings. I frequented their society; I became to out-
ward semblance one of themselves; and soon gained
the advantage of being treated-with so much con-
ﬁdence as to be admitted to their nocturnal meetings,
where they openly discussed the crimes they had
committed, as well as those they meditated. I ma»
naged so skilfully, that I easily drew from them the
particulars of their own abode, or that of the females
with whom they cohabited. I may go still further,
and assert, that so boundless was the conﬁdence with
which I inspired them, that had any one of their
members dared to express the shadow of a suspicion
respecting me, he would have been punished on the
spot. In this manner I obtained every requisite in-
formation; so that, when I had once indicated any ﬁt
object for arrest, his conviction and condemnation
became matters of course. My researches ‘intra
muros ’ were not less successful. I frequented every
tennis-court in the environs of the Palais-Royal, the
Hotel d’Angleterre, the boulevards of the Temple;
the streets of la Vannerie, of la Mortellerie, of la
Planche Mibray; the market St Jaques, Petite Chaise;
the Rues de la Juiverie, la Calandre, le Chats-let; the
Place Maubert, and in fact the whole city. Not a
day passed in which I did not effect some important
discovery. Nothing escaped me, either relating to
crimes which had been committed, or were in con-
templation. I was in all places; I knew all_ that
was passing or projecting; and never were the police
idly or unproﬁtably employed when set to work upon ~
my suggestions. '
M. Henry openly expressed his surprise as well
as satisfaction at my zeal and success; it was not so
with many of “the peace-oﬁicers and sub-agents of
police, for, little accustomed to the hard duty and
constant watchfulness my plans induced, they openly
murmured. Some of them, in their anxiety to be
rid of the irksomeness of my direction, were cow-
.ardly enough to betray the secret of the disguise under


190 manoms or VIDOCQ.
favour of which I had so skilfully manoeuvred. This
imprudent act drew down upon them severe repri-
mands, without having the effect of making them more
circums ect, or more devoted to the public good.
It wil be readily understood, that, associating as I “
constantly did with the vilest and most abandoned,
I must, as a matter of course, be repeatedly invited to
join in their acts of criminal violence; this I never
refused at the moment of asking, but always formed
some plea for failing to attend the rendezvous for such
purposes. These men of crimes were generally so
absorbed in their ,villanous machinations, that the
most ﬂimsy excuse passed current with them: I may
even say, that frequently it did not require the trouble
of an excuse ‘to deceive them. Once arrested, they
never troubled themselves to ﬁnd out by what means
it had been effected; and had they even been more
awake, my measures were laid too ably for them to
have arrived at the chance of suspecting me as the
author of it: indeed,I have often been accosted by some
of the gang to communicate the sorrowful tidings of
the apprehension of one of their number, as well as to
beg my advice and assistance in endeavouring to pro-
cure hls release. '
Nothing is more easy, when once on good terms
with the thief, than to obtain a knowledge of the per-
sons to whom he disposes of his stolen property. I
was enabled to discover several; and the directions
with which I furnished the olice were so unequivocal,
that they never failed to jom their worthy companions
in the Bagnes. Perhaps the“ recital of the means I
adopted to rid Paris of one of these dangerous charac-
ters, may not be uninteresting to the reader.
For many years the police had had its eye upon
him, but as yet had not been able to detect him in any
positive act of delinquency. His house had undergone
repeated searches without any eﬁ'ect resulting from the
most diligent enquiry; nothing of the most triﬂing
nature could be found to rise in evidence against him.


MEMOIRS OF vrnoco. 191
Nevertheless, he was known to trafﬁc with the thieves;
and many of them, who were far from suspecting my
connexion with the police, pointed him out to me as a
staunch friend, and a man on whom they could depend.
These assertions respecting him were not sufﬁcient to
effect his conviction; it would be requisite to seize 'him
with the stolen articles in his possession. M. Henry
had tried every scheme to accomplish this; but whe-
ther from stupidity on the part of the agents employed
by him, or the superior address of the receiver of stolen
property, all his plans had failed. He was desirous of
trying whether I should be more successful. I wil-
lingly undertook the ofﬁce, and arranged my plans in
the following manner. Posted near the house of the
suspected dealer in stolen property, I watched for his
going out, and following him when he had gone a few
steps down the street, addressed him by a different
nameIto his own. He assured me I was mistaken; I
protested to the contrary: he insisted upon it I was
deceived, and I affected to be equally satisﬁed of his
identity, declaring my perfect recognition of his person
as that of a man who for some time had been sought
after by the police throughout Paris and its environs.
“ You are grossly mistaken,” replied he warmly. “ My
name is so and so, and I live in such a street.”
“ Come, come, friend,” said I, “excuses are useless.
I know you too well to part with you so easily.”-—“ This
is too much,” cried he; “ but at the next police station
I shall possibly be able to meet with those who can‘
convince you that I know my own name better than
you seem to do.” This was exactly the point at
which I wished to arrive. “ Agreed,” said I; and we
bent our steps towards the neighbouring guardhouse.
We entered, and I requested he would show me his
papers: he had none about him. I then insisted upon
his being searched, and on his person were found three
watches and twenty-ﬁve double Napoleons, which I
caused to be laid aside till he should be examined before
a magistrate. These things had been wrapped in a


192 MEMOIRS or vmoeq.
handkerchief, which I contrived to secure; and after
having disguised myself as a messenger, I hastened to
the house of this receiver of stolen goods, and de-
manded to speak with his wife. She, of course, had
no idea of my business or knowledge of my person;
and seeing several persons besides herself present, I
signiﬁed to her that my business being of a private
nature, it was important that I should speak to her
alone; and in token of my claims to her conﬁdence,
produced the handkerchief, and enquired whether she
rocognised it? Although still ignorant of the cause of
my visit, her countenance became troubled, and her
whole person was much agitated as she begged me to
let her hear my business. “ I am concerned,” replied
I, “to be the bearer of unpleasant news ; but the fact
is, your husband has just been arrested, everything
found on his person has been seized, and from some
words which he happened to overhear, he suspects he
has been betrayed; e therefore wishes you to remove
out of the house certain things you are aware would be
dangerous =to~his safety if found on the premises; if
you please I will lend you a helping hand, but I must
forewarn you that you have not one moment to lose.”
The information was of the ﬁrst importance; the
sight of the handkerchief, and the description of the
objects it had served to envelo e, removed from her
mind every doubt as to the trut of the message I had
brought her, and she easil ' fell into the snare I had
laid to entrap her. She t anked me for the trouble I
had 'taken, and begged I would go and engage three
hackney coaches, and return to her with as little delay
as possible. I left the house to execute my commis-
sion; but on the road I stopped to give one of my
people instructions to keep the coaches in sight, and
to seize them, with their contents, directly] should
give the signal} The vehicles drew up to the
door, and upon re-entering the house, I found things
in a high state of preparation for removing. The
ﬂoor was strewed With articles of every description;


memoras or VIDQCQ. 193
time'pieces, candelabra, Etruscan vases, cloths, cache-
mires, linen, muslins, &c. All these things had been
taken from a closet, the entrance to which was
cleverly concealed by a large press, so skilfully con-
trived that the most practised eye could not have
discovered the deception. l assisted in the removal,
and when it was completed, the press having been care-
fully replaced, the woman begged of me to accompany
her, which I did, and no sooner was she in one of the
coaches, ready to start, than I suddenly pulled up the
window, and at this previously concerted signal, we
-were immediately surrounded by the police. The
husband and wife were tried at the assizes, and, as may
be easily conceived, were overwhelmed beneath the
weight of an accusation, in support of which there
existed a formidable mass of convrcting testimony.
Some persons may perhaps blame the expedient to
which I had recourse, in :order to free Paris from a
receiver of stolen property, who had been for a long
time a positive nuisance to the capital. Whether it
be approved of or not, I have at least the conscious-
ness of having done my duty; besides, when we wish
to overreach‘scoundrels who are at open war with
society, every stratagem is allowable by which to effect
their conviction, except r'ondeavouring to provoke the
commission of crime. "m


194 manoms or vmocq.
CHAPTER XXVII.
Gueuvive's gang—A girl helps me to discover the chief—
] dine with the thieves—One of them takes me to sleep at his
house—l pass for a fugitive gslley-slave—l engage in a plot
against myself-l wait for myself at my own door—A robbery
in the Rue Cassette—Great surprise—Gueuvive with four of
his men are arrested-The girl Gurnevin points the others out
to rue—A batoh of eighteen.
NEARLY about the same time in which the event men-
tioned in the last chapter occurred, a gang had formed
itself in the Faubourg St Germain, which was more
particularly the scene of its exploits. It was com-
posed of individuals who acted under the guidance of
a captain named Gueuvive, alias Constantin, shortened
by abbreviation into Antin; for the same custom exists
amongst thieves as amongst bullies, spies, and in-
formers, of being called only by the last syllable of
the christian name. Gueuvive, or Antin, was a fencing
master, who after having served as bully to the lowest
prostitutes, and for the humblest wages, was com-
pleting in his present character the many vicissitudes
of his ill-spent life. It Wamwell known that he was
capable of any action, however had, and although
murder had never been proved against him, yet few
doubted his willingness to shed blood, if by so doing
he could reap the most triﬂing advantage. His mis-
tress had been murdered in the Champs Elysées, and
suspicions were strongly directed against him as the
author of the crime. However this may be, Gueuvive
was a man of enter rising character, eXtreme boldness,
and possessed of the most unblushing eﬁ'rontery; at
least, this was the estimate formed of him by his com-
panions, amongst whom he enjoyed a more than
common celebrity.
For some time the attention of the police had been
directed to this man and his associates, but without


MEMOIRS or VIDOCQ. 195
being enabled to secure any of them, although each
day teemed with fresh accounts of their continued
attacks upon the property of the citizens of Paris. At
length it was seriously resolved to put an end to the
misdeeds of these plunderers, and I received, in con-
sequence, orders to go in search of them, and to
endeavour to take them in the very fact. This last
point was particularly insisted upon, as being of the
utmost importance; I accordingly provided myself
with a suitable disguise, and that very evening opened
the campaign in the Faubourg St Germain, frequent-
ing every place of ill-fame in it. About midnight, I
went to the house of a person named Boucher, in the
Rue Neuve Guillemain, where I took a glass of brandy
with some common girls; and whilst sitting with them,
I heard the name of Constantin pronounced at the
table adjoining mine. I at ﬁrst imagined he was pre-
sent; but upon cautiously questioning one of the girls,
she assured me he was not; although, added she, “ he
seldom fails being here every day to meet his numerous
friends.” From the tone in which she spoke I fan-
cied I could perceive that she was perfectly conversant
with the habits of these gentry, and in the hope of
drawing further particulars from her, I invited her to
sup with me. The offer was accepted, and by the
time I had well plied her with liquor, she gave me the
information I required, and with the more readiness,
as from my dress, actions, and expressions, she had
set 'me down in her own mind as one of the light-ﬁn-
gered brethren. We assed a part of the night toge-
ther, and I did not quit her till she had fully explained
to me the different haunts of Gueuvive. .
The next day, at twelve o’clock, I repaired to the
house of Boucher, where I again met my companion
of the preceding night. I had scarcely entered when
she saw me, and immediately addressing me, cried,
“ Now is your time if you wish to speak with Gueu-
vive: he is here ;" and she pointed to an individual of
from twenty-eight to thirty years of age, neatly dressed,


196 mmoms or Vinocqt
although but in his waistcoat; he was about ﬁve feet
six inches high, extremely good looking, ﬁne black
hair and whiskers, regular teeth, in fact, precisely as
he had been described to me; without hesitation I
addressed him, requesting he would oblige me with a
little tobacco from his box. He examined me from
head to foot, and inquired, “if I had served in the
army ?” I replied, that I had been in an Hussar regi-
ment, and soon over a glass of good drink we fell into
a deep conversation upon military aﬁairs.
Time passed whilst we were thus engaged, and
dinner was talked of; Gueuvive declared that I should
make one in a party he had been arranging, and that
my company would afford him much pleasure. It was
not very probable I should refuse: I accepted his in-
vitation without further ceremony, and we went away
together to the Barriére du Maine, where four of his
friends were awaiting his' arrival. We immediately sat
down to the dinner-table, and as I was a stranger to
all, the conversation was very guarded. However, a
few cant words which occasionally escaped them, soon
served to convince me that all the members of this
charming society were cracksmen (thieves).
They were all very curious to hear what I did for
my living, and‘I soon fudged a tale which satisﬁed
them, and induced them not only to suppose I came
from the country, but likewise that I was a thief on
the look-out for a job. I did not explicitly state these
particulars, but affecting certain peculiarities which
betray the profession, I allowed them to perceive
that I had great reasons for wishing to conceal my
person.
The wine was not s ared, and so well did it loosen
every tongue, that be ore the closebi' the repast, I
had learned the abode of Gueuvive, as well as that of
his worthy coadjutor, Joubert, and the names of many
of their comrades; at the moment of our separating
I hinted that I did not exactly know where I should
procure a bed, and Joubert immediately offered to give


198 MEMOIRS or vmoco.
not boast of so much penetration, yet I think, too,-
that from the frequent description I have heard of this
Vidocq, his features are so well engraved in my re-
collection, that I should pretty soon recognise him,
if I"came unexpectedly in his way.”—-“ God bless
you!” cried he, “it is easy to perceive you are a
stranger to the vagabond: just imagine now, that he
is never to be seen twice in the same dress; that he is'
in the morning perhaps just such another looking per-
son as you; well, the next hour so altered, that his
Own brother could not recognise him, and by the
evening, I defy any man to remember ever having seen
him before. Only yesterday, I met him disguised in a
manner that would have deceived any eye but mine,
but he must be a deep hand if he gets over me; I
know these sneaks at the ﬁrst glance, and if my friends
were as knowing as myself, his business would have
been done long ago.”—“ Nonsense,” cried I; “ every-7
body says the same thing of him, and yet you see
there is no getting rid of him.”—“ You are right,”
replied he, “ but to prove that I can act as well as
talk, if you will lend me a helping hand, this very
evening we will waylay him at his door, and I warrant
we’ll settle the job, so as to keep him from giving
any of us further uneasiness.”
I felt curious to learn whether he really was ac- '
quainted with my residence, and promised readily to
join his scheme, and accordingly, about the dusk of
the evening, we each tied up in bandkerchiefs a num-
ber of heavy ten-sous pieces, in order to administer to
this scamp of aVidocq a few effectual blows the
moment he should issue from his house. Having
fastened the money in a hard knot at the corner of our
handkerchiefs, we set out; and Constantin, who seemed
just in the humour for the task he had undertaken,
led the way to the Rue Neuve St Francois. and sto -
ped before a house, No. M—my exact abode. '1 con d
not conceive how he had'procured my address, and
must confess the circumstance gave me great uneasi-


memoras or vinoco. 199
ness, whilst it redoubled my wonder, that being so
well acquainted with my dwelling, he should appear to
have so little knowledge of my person. We kept
watch for several hours, but Vidocq, as may be well
imagined, did not make his appearance; Constantin,
was highly enraged at this disappointment. “ We
must give it up for to-night,” said he at length, “ but
the ﬁrst time I meet the rascal, by heavens he shall
pay doubly for keeping me waiting now.”
At midnight we retired, putting oﬂ“ the execution of
our project till the ensuing night. It was amusing
enough to see me thus assisting in laying an ambus-
cade for myself to be caught in. The readiness with
which I embarked in the scheme quite won the good-
will of Constantin, who from this moment treated me
with the greatest conﬁdence, he even invited me to
make one in a projected plan for robbing a house in the
Rue Cassette. I agreed to join the party, but declared
that I neither could nor would venture out in the
night, without ﬁrst going home for the necessary apers
which would serve me in case of our scheme ailing,
and our getting into the hands of the police. “ In
that case,” replied he, “ you may as well just keep
watch for us whilst we do the job.” At length the
robbery took place, and as the night was excessively
dark, Constantin and his companions wishing to hurry
faster than the absence of all light permitted them, had
the boldness to take down a. lamp from before a door,
and to carry it before them. Upon their return home,
this watchlight was placed in the middle of the room,
whilst they seated themselves around it to examine
and divide their booty; in the midst of their exulta-
tion at the rich results of their expedition, a sudden
knocking was heard at the door: the robbers surprised
and alarmed, looked at each other in silent dread.
This was a surprise for which the were indebted to
me. Again the knocking was hear . Constantin then
by a sign commanding silence, said in a whisper, “ ’Tis


202 ‘ nanorns or vinoco.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
The agents of the police chosen from amongst liberated galley-
slaves,thieves, bullies and prostitutes—Theft lolerated—-Degene-
racy of the inspectors—Coalition of informers—They denounce
Ina—Destruction of three classes “thieves—Formation of a new
species—The brothers Delzéve—How discOvered—Delzeve the
younger arrested—The erquisites of e préfet of police—I free
myself from the yoke ofpthe peace oﬂicers and inspectors—My
life is in danger—A few anecdotes.
Iwas not the only secret agent of the police of safety:
a Jew named Gaﬂ‘ré was my coadjutor; he had been
employed before me by the police, but as our prin-
ciples did not agree, we did not long 'go on with bar-
mony together. I perceived that he was a bad fellow,-
and mentioned my opinion to the chief of the division,
who, having ascertained the justice of my report, ex-
elled him, and ordered him to quit Paris. Some
individuals without any other qualiﬁcation than a
sort of low cunning acquired in prison, were likewise
attached to the police of safety, but they had no ﬁxed em-
ployment, and were only paid according to the captures
they made. There were also thieves who constantly
followed their profession, and whose presence was tole-
rated on condition of their giving up to justice the ma-
lefactors they might by chance fall in with; sometimes
it happened that for lack of other objects, they would
denounce their own comrades. After these tolerated
thieves, came, in the third or fourth gradation, that
swarm of abandoned proﬂigates who lived with girls
of infamous character. This ignoble caste occasion-
ally supplied important directions for the taking of
pickpockets and swindlers ; generally, they came for-
ward and oﬂ'ered'the most useful information when
they were anxious to prpcure the release of their mis-
tresses who chanced to fall under the surveillance of
the police. The women who lived with well-known


204 nnnoias or VLDOCQ,
I was denounced daily, but the voices of my calum- -
niators were powerless, ineffectual. M. Henry, who
had the préfet’s ear, answered for my actions; and it
was resolved that all denunciations against me should
be immediately communicated to me, and that I should
be allowed to refute them in writing. This proof of _
conﬁdence gave me pleasure, and without rendering
me more sedulous or attentive to my duties, it proved
to me, at least, that my superiors had rendered me
justice, and nothing in the world could have made me
deviate from the plan of conduct which I had laid
down. ‘
In everything, enthusiasm is necessary if we would
succeed. I did not hope to render the calling of a
secret agent honourable, but I ﬂattered myself with
the idea of fulﬁlling its duties with honour. I was
anxious to be esteemed upright, incorruptible, intrepid,
.and indefatigable; I wished to appear on all occasions
prompt, adequate, and intelligent; and my successes
conspired to give me the reputation sought. Soon
M. Henry took no steps without, consulting me: we
passed nights together in chalking out plans and means
of repressing crimes and abuses, which were so eﬂica-
ciousthat, in a short time Ihe complaints of robberies
were considerably diminished, because the number of
robbers of all sorts was greatly reduced. I may even
say, that there was a period, when the robbers of plate
from houses, those who steal the luggage from coaches
and carts, as well as pickpockets, gave no tokens
of being in existence. At a later period, a new gene-
ration has ' sprung up, but they can never equal
in dexterity Bombance, Marquis, Boucault, Com-
pere, Bouthey, Pranger, Dorlé, La Rose, Gavard,
Martin, and other ﬁrst-rate rogues whom I reduced to
a state of inaction. It was no intention of mine to
allow their successors the opportunity of acquiring so
much skill.‘_ _
' For about six months, I acted alone, excep
ting only
a few common females who had devoted t emselves


MEMOIRS or vinocq. 205
to the service, when an unforeseen occurrence eman-
cipated me from all dependence on the peace oﬂicers,
who had, up to this time, so managed as to take upon
themselves all the merits of my discoveries. This cir-
cumstance proved greatly in my favour, as it completely
exposed the weakness and inefﬁciency of the inspec-
- tors, who complained, with much vehemence, that I
gave them too much to do. To come to the fact, I
shall begin the narration from its earliest commence-
ment.
In 1810, robberies of a new kind and inconceivable
boldness suddenly awakened the police to the know-
ledge of the existence of a troop of malefactors of a
novel description. '
Nearly all the robberies had been committed by lad-
ders and forcible entries ; apartments on the ﬁrst and even
second ﬂoor had been broken into by these extraordi-
nary thieves, who, till then, had conﬁned themselves
to rich houses; and it was evident that these robbers
must have had a knowledge of the localities, by the
method of their burglaries. ‘
All my efforts to discover these adroit thieves were
without success, when a burglary which seemed al-
most impracticable was committed in the Rue Saint-
Claude, near the Rue Bonrbon-Villeneuve, in an apart-
ment in the second ﬂoor above the ‘entresol,’ in a house
in which the commissary of police for the district ac-
tually resided. The cord of the lantern which hung
at his house-door had served for a ladder.
A nosebag (a small bag in which corn is put for
horses to feed from when on the coach-stand) had
been left on the spot, which gave rise to a surmise that
the perpetrators might be hackney-coachmen, or at
.least that hackney-coaches had been employed in the
enterprize.
M. Henry directed me to make my observations
amongst the coachmen, and I discovered that the nose-
bag had belonged to a man named Husson, who drove
.the ﬁacre, No. 712. I reported this: Husson was ap-
'r


206 MEMOXRS or vrnocq.
prehended, and from him we obtained information con-
cerning two brothers, named DelzeVe, the elder of
whom was soon in the hands of the police, and on his
interrogation by M. Henry, he made such important
discoveries as led to the apprehension of one Métral,
a room-cleaner (frotteur) in the palace of the empress
Josephine. He was stated to be the receiver of the
band, composed almost entirely of Savoyards, born in
the department of Leman. The continuation of my
search led to my securing the persons of the brothers
Pissard, Grenier, Lebrun, Piessard, Mabou, called
the a othecary, Serassé, Durand, &c. twenty-two in
all, who were subsequently condemned to limprison—
ment.
These robbers were for the greater part messengers
(commissionaires) room-cleaners, or coachmen; that
is, they belonged to a class of individuals proverbial
for honesty, and who from time immemorial had been
celebrated for probity throughout Paris; in their dis-
trict they were all considered as honest men, incapable
of appropriating to themselves‘the property of another;
and this opinion contributed to render them the more
formidable, as the persons who employed them either
in sawing wood or in any other kind of work, had no
distrust of them, and gave them free ingress and egress
everywhere, and at all timesf When it was known
that they were implicated in a criminal affair, they
were not believed to be guilty; and I myself, for some
time, hesitated in my opinion. However, evidence
was adduced which was against them, and the ancient
renown of the Savoyards, in a capital in which they
had resided unsuspected for ages, was blasted never
again to ﬂourish. _
During the year 1812 I had rendered to justice the
principals of the band ; but Delzeve, the younger, had
baﬂied all efforts to capture him, and bid deﬁance to
the ursuits of justice, when, on the 31st of December,
M. ﬁenry said to me, “ I think, if we manage well, we
can get hold of Ecrevisse (Delzeve’s cognqmen): to-


MEMOIRS or VIDOCQ. 207
morrow will be new-year’s day, and he will be sure to
visit the washerwoman, who has so often given him
an asylum, as well as his brother; I have a presenti-
ment that he will be there this evening or during the
night, or certainly early in the morning.”
I was of the same opinion; and M. Henry ordered
me to go, with three oﬁicers, and place ourselves on
the watch, near the washerwoman’s house, who lived
in the Rue des Gressillon, Faubourg St Honoré, in the
Petite-Pologne. I
I received this command with a satisfaction which is
always, with me, a presage of good will. Attended by
the three inspectors, I went, at seven o’clock in the
evening, to the appointed spot. It was bitterly cold,
the ground covered with snow, and never had winter
been more severe.
We stationed ourselves in ambuscade; and, after
many hours, the inspectors, nipped with cold and un-
able any longer to endure it, proposed that We should‘
quit our station. I was half-frozen, having no cover-
ing but the light garment of a messenger. I made
some remarks to them; and, although it would have
been inﬁnitely more agreeable to me to have retired,
we determined to remain till midnight. Scarcely had
the hour agreed on struck, than they claimed of me
the fulﬁlment of my promise, and we quitted our post,
which we had been ordered to keep till daybreak.
We went towards the Palais Royal; a coffee-house
was open, which we entered to warm ourselves, and
having taken a bowl of hot wine, we separated, each
to go to his own home. As I went towards mine, I
reﬂected on what I was doing.—“ What!” said I to
myself, “ so soon forget instructions which have been
given to me; thus to deceive the conﬁdence of my
superior; it is an unpardonable baseness! My conduct
not only seems reprehensible, but I think that it even
deserves the most severe punishment.” I was in
despair at having _complied with the wishes' of the in-
spectors; and resolute in repairing my fault, deter-


MEMOIRS or vrnocq. 209
opened the side door, and than letting it shut with
violence, without actually going out, I concealed my-
self under a ﬂight of steps. Soon afterwards Delzéve
came down, and on perceiving him I jumped at him,
seized his collar, and holding a pistol to his breast,
told him he was my prisoner. “ Follow me,” I said,
“ and make the slightest signal at your peril; besides,
I am not alone.”
Dumb with surprise, Delzeve made no answer, but
followed me mechanically. I fastened his hands, and
he was then incapacitated from either resisting or ﬂy-
ing from me.
I hastened to convey him away, and the clock struck
six as we entered the Rue du Rocher; a hackney-
coach was passing, which I hailed, but the man seeing
me covered with dirt, hesitated, until I offered him
double hire; and led by that, he condescended to take
us up, and we were soon rolling over the pavement ‘of
Paris. To make assurance doubly sure, I tightened
his wrist-cuffs, lest, having come to himself, he might
have rebelled; and although, in a personal conﬂict, I
should have been sure of victory, yet, as I contemplated I
bringing him to confession, I was unwilling to have
any quarrel; and blows, which would have been inevi-
tably the result of rebellion, would decidedly have
produced this result. ,
Delzéve felt aware of the impossibility of escape, and
I endeavoured to make him hear reason; that I might
completely wheedle (amadouer) him, I offered him
some refreshment, whlch he accepted; and the coach
man having procured us some wine, we kept driving
about and drinking, without any determined plan.
It was still early, and persuaded that it would be
advantageous to prolong our téte-h-téte, I proposed to
Delzeve, that we should go and breakfast in a place
'where we could have a private room. He was then
quieted; and appearing hopeless of escape, accepted
my offer, and I took him to the Cadran Bleu; but, be-
fore we got there, he had already told me many pieces
1‘ 2


MEMOIRS or VIDOCQ. 211
D
Order for conducting Delzeve to the depot, saying,
with much kindness: “Vidocq, go and take some
repose; I am much satisﬁed with your conduct.”
The apprehension of Delzéve was productive of the
highest testimonials of satisfaction to me, but at the
same time it only augmented the hatred which the
peace-officers and their agents cherished towards me;
only one of them, M. Thibaut, rendered me the fullest
justice.
Joining chorus with the thieves and malefactors, all
the agents who were not successful as police-ofﬁcers,
assailed me with the utmost virulence. According to
them, it was scandalous, abominable, to exercise my
zeal in purging society of the evil-doers which troubled
its repose. I had been a famous robber; there was
no species of crime that I had not perpetrated: such
were the reports which were widely spread, and gene-
rally accredited. Some perhaps believed them partly
true; the thieves, at least, were persuaded that I had
followed the vocation in which they worked; and in
saying so they believed what they asserted. Before
they were caught in my traps, it was' necessary that
they should think me one of themselves; and once
taken, they considered me as a false comrade, but still
not the less an “outand-outer,” (un grinche de la
haute pégre) only that I plundered with impunity
because I was necessary to the police: this was, at all
events, the current tale in the prisons. The eace-
ofﬁcers and their satellites were not slow in givmg all
conﬁrmation to such reports; and then perhaps, in
becoming the echoes of the wretches who had cause
to complain of me, they did not think that they lied
so much as they really did; for, taking no pains to
learn what had been the course of my early life, they
were to a certain point excusable in thinking that I
must have been a thief, since, from time immemorial,
all the secret agents had followed that reputable means
of getting a livelihood. They knew that such was the
commencement of the lives of Goupil, Compete,


2l2 murmurs or vwocq.
\
Florentin, Levesque, Coco-Lacour, Boui'darie, Cadet
Herriez, Henri Lain, Cesar Vioque, Bouthey, Gaﬁre,
Manigant; and, in fact, all who had preceded or were
coadjutors with me. Nearly all the agents had re-
turned to their old way of life, and as I appeared
much more crafty, much more active, much more
enterprizing than they, the conclusion was drawn, that
being the most adroit of spies, was the result of having
been the most expert of" robbers. — This error in tea-
soning I forgive; but the assertion that 1 continued
daily to plunder, is an intentional calumny. —
M. Henry, struck with the absurdity of such an
imputation, replied to it by this unanswerable objecd
tion. He said, “If it be true that Vidocq commits
daily robberies, it is an additionalcharge against your
vigilance; he is alone, you are numerous ; you say
that he plunders, then how is it that you do not catch
him in the fact? Unaided, he has contrived to secure
many of your colleagues whilst in the commission of
offences, and yet you, all of you, are unable to do so
with him I ”
The oﬁicers were somewhat puzzled how to reply,
and thereupon kept silence; but as it was but too
evident that the enmity they bore me would always
lead them to cross my plans, the préfet of police
determined on making me totally independent of them.
' From that moment I was free to act as I thought
ﬁttest for the public welfare. I now only received
orders from M. Henry personally, and was amenable
for my conduct to him only.
I would have redoubled my zeal had it been possible;
and M. Henry did not fear that my exertions would fall
oﬁ"; but as he had already learnt that some persons had
threatened my life, he appointed an auxiliary, who was
charged with following me at a distance, and watching ‘
over me, to ward off any blows which might be aimed
at me secretly. The isolated situation in which I was
placed greatly favoured my success, and I apprehended
a multitude of robbers, who would long have escaped


MEMOIRS OF VIDOCQ.
search had I not been emancipated from all inter-
ference from the police agents and inspectors. But
being so much in action, I became more known. The
robbers swore they would get rid of me, and frequently I
narrowly escaped their blows; my physical strength, and
I may add, my courage, freed me Victoriously from all
ambuscades, however craftin planned. Many attempts,
in which my assailants always came 06' second best,
taught them that I was fully resolved to sell my life
most dearly.


immoras or VIDOCQ. 215
manners, the elegance of her language, the gentility of
her dress; and that indescribable air of superiority which
the reverses of fortune can never entirely destroy, gave
rise to the current belief that she was a member of one
of those numerous families to whom the Revolution
had only left its hauteur and its regrets.
T 0 those who heard and saw her without being ac-
quainted, madame Noel was a most interesting little
woman; and besides, there was something touching in
her situation ; it was a mystery, and no one knew what
had become of her husband. Some said that she had
been early left in a state of widowhood; others that
she had been forsaken; and a third afﬁrmed that she
was avictim of seduction. I know not which of these
conjectures aplproaches nearest to the truth, but I
know very we that madame Noel was a little brunette
whose sparkling eye and roguish look were softened
down by that gentle demeanour which seemed to in-
crease the sweetness of her smile and the tone of her
voice, which was in the highest degree musical. There
was a mixture of the angel and demon in her face, but
the latter perhaps preponderated ; for time had deve-
loped those traits which characterise evil thoughts.
Madame Noel was obliging and good, but only to-
wards those individuals who were at issue with justice;
she received them as the mother of a soldier would
welcome the comrade of her son. To ensure a wel-
come with her, it was enough to belong to the same
“ regiment” as Noel with the Spectacles; and then, as
much for love of him and from inclination perhaps, she
would do all in her power to aid, and was consequently
looked upon as a “ mother of robbers.” At her house
they found shelter; it was she who provided for all
their wants; she carried her complaisance so far as to
seek “ jobs of work” for them; and when a passport
was indispensably requisite for their safety, she was not
quiet until by some means she had succeeded in pro-
curing one. Madame Noel had many friends among
her own sex, and it was generally in one of their names


216 MEMOIRS or vrnocq.
that the passport was obtained. A powerful mixture
of oxygenated muriatic acid obliterated the writing;
and the description of the gentleman who required it,
as well as the name which it suited his purpose to as-
sume, replaced the feminine description. Madame
Noel had generally by her a supply of these accom-
modating passports, which were ﬁlled according to
circumstances, and the wants of the party requiring such
assistance.
All the galley-slaves were children of madame
Noel, but those were the most in favour who could
give her any account of her son; for them her devo-
tion was boundless; her house was open to all fugitives,
who made it their rendezvous; and there must be
gratitude even amongst them, for the police were in-
formed that they came frequently to mother Noel’s
for the pleasure of seeing her only; she was the con-
ﬁdante of all their plans, all their adventures, all their
fears; in fact, they communicated all unreservedly,
and never had cause to regret their reliance on her
ﬁdelity. -
Mother Noel had never seen me; my features were
quite unknown to her, although she had frequently
heard of my name. There was then no difﬁculty in
presenting myself before her, without giving her any
cause for alarm; but to get herth point out to me the
hiding place of the men whom I sought to detect, was
the end I aimed at, and I felt that it would be impos-
sible to attain it without much skill and management.
At ﬁrst, I resOIVed on passing myself 03 as a fugitive
galley-slave; but it was necessary to borrow the name
of some thief, whom her son or his comrades had
mentioned to her in advantageous terms. Moreover,
a little resemblance was positively requisite, and I
endeavoured to recollect if there were not one of the
galley-slaves whom I knew who had been associated
with Noel with the Spectacles, and I could not re-
member one of my age, or whose person and features
at all rcsembled mine. it last, by dint of much effort


manoms or vmoco. 217
of memory I recalled to mind one Germain, alias
Royer, alias “ the Captain,” who had been an intimate
acquaintance of Noel’s, and although our similarity was
very slight, yet I determined on personating him.
Germain, as well as myself, had often escaped from
the Bagnes, and that was the only point of resem-
blance between us: he was about my e, but a
smaller framed man; he had dark brown air, mine
was light; he was thin, and I tolerably stout; his
complexion was sallow, and mine fair, with a very clear
skin; besides, Germain had an excessively long nose,
took a vast deal of snuff, which begriming his nos-
trils outside, and stuﬂing them up within, gave him a
peculiarly nasal tone of voice.
I had much to do in personating Germain ; but the
diﬂiculty did not deter me: my hair cut, a la mode des
Ba nee, was dyed black, as well as my beard, after it
ha attained a growth of eight days; to embrown my
countenance Iwashed it with Walnut liquor; and to
perfect the imitation, I garnished my upper lip thickly
with a kind of coffee grounds, which I plastered on by
means of gum arabic, and thus became as nasal in my
twang as Germain himself. My feet were doctored
with equal care; I made blisters on them by rubbing '
in a certain composition of which I had obtained the
recipe at Brest. I also made the marks of the fetters;
and when all my toilet was ﬁnished, dressed myself
in the suitable garb. I had neglected nothing which
could complete the metamorphosis, neither the shoes
nor the marks of those horrid letters GAL. The
costume was perfect; and the only, thing wanting was
a hundred of those companionable insects which people
the solitudes of poverty, and which were, I believe,
together with locusts and toads, one of the seven plagues
of old Egypt. I procured some for money; and as
soon as they were a little accustomed to their new do-
micile, which was speedily the case, I directed my steps
towards the residence of madame Noel, in the Rue
Ticquetonne. ' i
v0L.. H. u '


218 MEMOIRS or vrnoco.
I arrived there, and knocking at the door, she opened
it: a glance convincing her how matters stood with
me, she desired me to enter, and on ﬁnding myself alone
-with her, I told her who I was. “ Ah, my poor lad,”
she cried, “there is no occasion to tell me where you
have come from; I am sure you must be dying with
hunger ?"—“ Oh yes," I answered, “I am indeed hun-
gry; I have tasted nothing for twenty-four hours.”
Instantly, without further question, she went out, and
returned with a dish of hog’s puddings and a bottle of
wine, which she placed before me. I did not eat, I
actually devoured; I stuﬁ'ed myself, and all had disap-
peared without my saying a word between my ﬁrst
mouthful and my last. Mother Noel was delighted at
my appetite, and when the cloth was removed she gave
me a dram. “ Ah, maman,” I exclaimed, embracing
her, “ you restore me to life; Noel told me how good
and kind you were :” and I then began to give her a
statement of how I had left her son eighteen days be-
fore, and gave her information of all the prisoners in
Whom she felt interested. The details were so true
and well known, that she could have no idea that I
was an impostor.
“ You must have heard of me,” I continued; “ I
have gone through many an enterprize, and experienced
many a reverse. I am called Germain, or the Captain;
you must know my name '3”
“ Yes, yes, my friend,”, she said, “ I know you well;
my son and his friends have told me of your mis-
fortunes; welcome, welcome, my dear captain. But
heavens! what a state you are in v; you must not re-
main in such a plight. I see you are infested with
those wretched tormenting beasts who ; but I will
get you a change of linen, and contrive something as
a comfortable dress for you.”
I expressed my gratitude to madame Noel; and when
I saw a good opportunity, without giving cause for the
slightest sus icion, I asked what had become of Victor
Desbois an his comrade Mongenet. “ Desbois and


MEM'OXRS or vmoco. ‘219
Le Tambour? Ahl my dear, do not mention them, I
beg of you,” she replied; “ that rogue Vidocq has given
them very great uneasiness; since one Joseph (Joseph
Longueville, an old police inspector), whom they have
twice met in the streets, told them that there would
soon be a search in this quarter, they have been com-
pelled to cut and run, to avoid being taken.”
“ What,” cried I with a disappointed air, “ are they
no longer in Paris ‘P”
“ Oh, they are not very far distant,” replied mother
Noel; “ they have not quitted the envu'ons of the
‘ great village’ (Paris); I dare say we shall soon see
them, for I trust they will speedin pay me a visit. I
think they will be delighted to ﬁnd you here.” _
. “ Oh, I assure you,” said I, “ that they will not be
more delighted at the meeting than myself; and if you
can write to them, I am sure they would eagerly send ~
_ for me to join them.” .
“ If I knew where they were,” replied mother Noel,
“ I would go myself and seek for them to please you;
but I do not know their retreat, and the best thing for
us to do is to be patient and await their arrival.”
In my quality of a new comer, I excited all madame
Noel’s compassion and solicitude, and she attended to
nothing but me. “ Are you known to Vidocq, and his
two bull-dogs Levesque and Compére ?” she enquired;
“ Alas! yes,” was my reply; “ they have caught me
twice.”
“In that case then, be on your guard: Vidocq is
often disguised; he assumes characters, costumes, and
shapes, to get hold of unfortunates like yourself.”
We conversed together for two hours, when madame
Noel offered me a' foot bath, which ‘I accepted; and
when it was prepared, I took off my shoes and stock-
ings,'on which she discovered my wounded feet, and
said with a most commiserating tone and manner.
“.How I pity you; what you must suffer! Why did
you not tell me of this at ﬁrst, you deserve to be
scolded for it.” And whilst thus reproaching me, she


222 nanoms or vrnoco.
less than four hours, I had perfected a most workman-
like key, which I tried, and it ﬁtted almost accurately.
A few touches of the ﬁle completed the instrument;
and, like the rest, I had the means of unobstructed
entrance whenever I wished to visit the house.
I was madame Noel’s boarder; and, after dinner, I
told her I was inclined to take a turn in the dusk, that
I might ﬁnd whether “ a job” I contemplated was yet
feasible, and she approved the suggestion, at the same
time recommending me to use all caution. “ That
thief of a Vidocq,” she observed, “ is a thorn in one’s
path; mind him ;—and, if I were you, before I made
any attempts, Iwould wait until my feet were well.”
“ I shall not go far,” I replied; “ nor stay away long.”
This assurance of a speedy return seemed to quiet her
fears. “ Well then, go,” she said; and I went out
limpin .
So gar all succeeded to my most sanguine wishes;
it was impossible to stand better with mother Noel;
but, by remaining in her house, who would guarantee
that I should not be knocked on the head? Might not
two or three galley-slaves arrive together, recognize
me, and attack me? Then farewell to all my plot-
tings; and it was incumbent, that, without losing the
fruit of my friendship with mother Noel, I should pre-
pare myself for the contingent danger. It Would have
been the height of imprudence to have given her cause
to think that I had any motives" for avoiding contact
with her guests, and I consequently endeavoured so
to lead her on, that she should herself suggest to me
the necessity of quitting her house; that _is, that she
should advise me no longer to think of sleeping in her
domicile.
I had observed that madame Noel was very intimate
with a fruit-seller who lived in the house, and I sent
to this woman one of my agents named Manceau,
whom I charged to ask her secretly, and yet with a
want of skill, for Some accounts of madame Noel. I
had dictated the questions, and was the more certain


MEMoms or vinoco. 223
that the fruit-woman would not fail to communicate
the particulars, as I had desired my man to beg her to
observe secresy.
The event proved that I was not deceived ;—no
sooner had my agent fulﬁlled his mission, than the
fruit-woman hastened to madame Noel with an ac-
count of what had passed; who, in her turn, lost no
time in telling me. On the look-out at the steps of
the door of her oﬂicious neighbour, as soon as she
saw me, she came to me, and, without further preface,
desired me to follow her, which I did; and, on reach-
ing the Place des Victoires, she stopped, and looking
about her to be assured that no one was in hearing,
she told me what had passed :—-“ So,” said she, in
cdnclusion, “ you see, my poor Germain, that it would
not be prudent for you to sleep at my house; you
must even be cautious how you approach it by da .”
Mother Noel had no idea that this circumstance, which
she bewailed so greatly, was of my own planning; and,
that I might remove all suspicion from her mind, I
pretended to be more vexed at it than she was, and
cursed and swore bitterly at that blackguard Vidocq,
who would not leave us at'peace. I deprecated the
necessity to which I was reduced, of ﬁnding a shelter
out of Paris, and took leave of madame Noel, who,
wishing me good luck and a speedy return, put a thirty-
sous-plece into my hand.
I knew that Desbois and Mongenet were expected,-
and I was also aware that there were comers and goers
who visited the house, whether madame Noel was
there or not; and she was often absent, giving music
lessons in the city. It was important that I should
know these gentry; and to achieve this, I disguised
several of my auxiliaries, and stationed them at the
corners of the street, where, mixing with the errand
boys and messengers, their presence excited no sus-
p1c1on.
These precautions taken, that I might testify all due
appearance of fear, I allowed two days to pass before


2524 MEMOIRS or vmoco.
I again visited madame Neel; and this period having
elapsed, I went one evening to her house, accompanied
by a young man, whom I introduced as the brother of
a female with whom I had once lived; and who, having
met me accidentally in Paris, had given me an asylum.
This young man was a secret agent, but I took care to
tell mother Noel that he had my fullest conﬁdence,
and that she might consider him as my second self;
and, as he was not known to the spies, I had chosen
him to be my messenger to her whenever I did not
judge it prudent to show myself. “ Henceforward,”
I added, “he will be our go-between, and will come
every two or three days, that I may have information
of you and your friends.”
“ I’faith,” said mother Noel, “ you have lost a plea-
sure; for, twenty minutes sooner, and you would have
seen a lady of your acquaintance here.”
“ Ah! who was it ?”
“ Mongenet’s sister.” ‘
“ Oh! indeed; she has often seen me with her bro-
ther.”
“ Yes; when I mentioned you, she described you
as exactly as possible ;—‘ a lanky chap,’ said she, ‘with
his nose always grimed with snuﬂl’ ” ‘
Madame Noel deeply regretted that I had not ar-
rived before Mongenet’s sister had departed; but cer-
tainly not so much as I rejoiced at my narrow escape
from an interview which would have destroyed all my
projects; for, if this woman knew Germain, she also
knew Vidocq; audit was an impossibility that she
could have mistaken one for the other, so great was
the difference between us! Although I had altered my
features so as to deceive, yet the resemblance which,
in description, seemed exact, would not stand the test
of a critical examination, and particularly the reminis-
cences of intimacy. Mother Noel then gave me a
very useful warning, when she informed me that Mon-
genet’s sister was a very frequent visitor at her house.
From thenceforward I resolved that this female should


M EMOIRS or vrnocq. 225
never catch a glimpse of my countenance; and, to
avoid meeting with her, whenever I visited madame
Noel, I sent my pretended brother-in-law ﬁrst, who,
when she was not there, had instructions to let me
know it, by sticking a wafer on the window. At this
signal I entered, and my aide-de-camp betook himself
to his post in the neighbourhood, to guard against any
disagreeable surprise. Not very far distant were other
auxiliaries, to whom I had conﬁded mother Noel’s key,
that they might come to my succour in case of danger ;
for, from one instant to another, I might fall suddenly
amongst a gang of fugitives, or some of the galley-
slaves might' recognize and attack me, and then a blow
of my ﬁst against a square of glass in the window was
the signal which was to denote my 'need of assistance,
to equalize the contending parties.
Thus were my schemes concerted, and the ﬁnale
was at hand. It was on a Tuesday, and a letter from
the men Iwas in quest of, announced their intended
arrival on the Friday following; a day which I intended
should be for them a black Friday. At the ﬁrst dawn
I betook myself to a cabaret in the vicinity, and, that
they might have no motive for watching me, supposing,
as was their custom, that they should traverse the
street several times up and down before they entered
Madame Noel’s domicile, I ﬁrst sent my pretended
brother-in-law, who returned soon afterwards, and told
me thathongenet’s sister was not there, and that I
might safely enter. “ You are not deceiving me ?”
said I to my agent, whose tone appeared altered and mm
barrassed, and ﬁxing on him one of those looks which
penetrate the very heart’s core, I thought I observed
one of those ill-suppressed contractions of the muscles
of the face which accompany a premeditated lie: and
then, quick as lightning, the thought came over me
that I was betrayed; that my agent was a traitor. We
were in a private room,’ and, without a moment’s hesi-
tation, I grasped his throat with violence, and told
him, in presence of his comrades, that I was informed


if MEMOIRS or vinoco. 227
CHAPTER XXX.
The police-nﬂicers sent in pursuit of a celebrated robber—They
are unable to discover him—Great anger of one of them—l
promise another new-year’s gift to the pre'fet—The yellow eur-
tains and the hump-backed female—l nm a good citizen—A
messenger puts me on the right scent—The chest of the pre-
fecture of police—I am a coal-man—The fright of a vintner and
his wife—The little Norman in nears—The danger of giving Esu
‘ de Cologne—Carrying oﬁ'of mademoiselle 'l‘onnean—A search—
The thief- takes me for his mate—Thieves laugh at locksmith:—
The jump from the window—The effects of a long slide, or
broken stitches.
IT has been seen how greatly I was thwarted by the
inﬁdelity of an agent, and I have long since learnt that
there is no secret well kept but that which we tell to
nobody; and sad experience more and more convinced
me of .the necessity of acting alone in all my opera-
tions, when I could do so; and I pursued this mode,
as will be seen on a very important occasion.
After having undergone several sentences, two fugi-
tives of the isles, named Goreau and Florentin, called
Chatelain (governor), of whom I have already spoken,
were detained at Bicétre, as incorrigible robbers.
Weary of conﬁnement in these cells, where they were
buried alive, they sent _to M. Henry a letter, in which
they oﬂ'ered to give such information as should lead to
the apprehension of several of their comrades, who
were daily perpetrating robberies in Paris. Fossard,
sentenced for life, who had frequently escaped from
the Bagnes, was the one marked out as the most dan-
gerous. “ He was,” they wrote, “ unequalled for in-
trepidity, and must be attacked with caution; for,
always armed to the teeth, he had resolved on blowing
out the brains of that police-agent who should be
hardy enough to attempt to apprehend him.”
The heads of the police asked nothing better than
to free the capital from such a daring thief, and their


230 memoras or Vinoeq.
vague, and yet the problem was to be solved; and 1
determined to try, if by dint of all my acumen and
research, my good genius would not direct my ﬁnger
to the very spot I sought.
I was in doubt as to what ste s I should ﬁrst take;
but as I had generally found t at, in all my under-
takings, it was principallyfrom' females that I gleaned
my information, whether women or girls, I soon de-
termined on the disguise which was best adapted for
my purpose. It was apparent that_1_must assume the
guise of a very res ectable gentleman, and, conse-
quently, by means 0 some false wrinkles, a pig-tail,
snowy white rufﬂes, a large gold-headed cane, a three-
cornered hat, buckles, breeches and coat to match,;-—
I‘ was metamorphosed into one of those good
sexagenarian citizens, whom all old ladies admire,
I had the precise appearance and air of one of those
rich old boys of the Marais, whose rubicund and jolly
countenance proves the ease of his circumstances, and
the desire to bestow charity on those who need it, by
way of a recompense to fortune. I was very sure that
the hump-backed women would set their caps at me;
and I had the appearance of so good a man, that it
was impossible they would make any attempts at
deceiving me. _
Thus disguised, I went into the streets, gazing up-
wards to discover all the curtains of the prescribed
colour. Iwas so much occupied with this investiga-
tion that I was entirely lost to all around me. Had I
been a little less substantial looking I might have
been taken for a metaphysician, or perhaps for a poet
who was seeking a couplet in the region of the
chimney-pots; twenty times I narrowly escaped the
cabriolets; on all sides the cry of “Gare! gare!”
gmind, mind) assailed me, and then, on turning round,
was under the wheel, or else close beside a horse;
sometimes, whilst I was wiping the dirt from my
sleeve, a lash of a whi came across my face, or, if the
driver were less brut , it was some such salutation as


Mmroms or vwoco. 23l
t'his:—“ Out of the way, old dunny—head,” or else,
“ Come, what are you at, old stupid ‘3 ”
My work was not to be completed in a single day,
even as far as the yellow curtains went, I marked
down more than one hundred and ﬁfty in my memo-
randum book, which gave choice enough in all con-
science. Had I not, as the saying is, worked for the
king of Prussia ?—(i. e. unavailingly.) Might not the
curtains, behind which Fossard was concealed, have
been taken down and replaced by white, red, or green
ones? However, if chance was against me, she might
yet throw out some favourable hint for my guidance;
and I took courage, although it is a somewhat painful
task for a sexagenarian to ascend and descend a hun-
dred and ﬁfty staircases, consisting at least of seven
hundred and ﬁfty stories, to take more than thirty
thousand steps, or twice the height of Chimborazo;
but as Ifelt my breath good, and my legs strong, I
undertook the task, sustained by the same hope as
that which impelled the Argonauts to sail in quest of
the golden ﬂeece. It was my hum -backed lady that
I sought; and in my ascents, in ow many landing-
places have I not stood centinel for hours together, in
the persuasion that my lucky star would shine upon
her. The heroic Don Quixote was not more ardent
in the pursuit of his Dulcinea. [knocked at the doors
of all the seamstresses; I examined them one after
another, but no humps; they were all perfectly formed;
or if by chance they had a projection, it was not a
deviation of the spine, but one of those temporary
exuberances which resolve themselves into maternity.
Thus passed several days without presenting to my
longing eyes the object of my search, and I was
heartily tired of my job, for every night my back
ached past bearing, and yet the work was to be re-
commenced the next morning. I dared ask no ques-
tions; for although then some charitable soul might
have put me on the right scent, yet I might get into


234 memoms or VIDOCQ.
“ Yes, the seamstress I want; a erson who has one
shoulder somewhat higher than tiie other.” Again I
was laughed at, and her apartment pointed out as on
the third story. Although her neighbours were very
complaisant, I was rather nettled at their chuckling
and laughing; it was exceedingly unpolite: but such
‘ was my tolerance, that I freely pardoned the expres-
sion of their mirth; and ,was not that commendable in
me? It preserved the character I had assumed. The
door was shown to me; I knocked, and it was opened
by my darling little Humpa herself; and after ﬁfty
apologies for the visit, I begged her to give me a few
moments’ audience, adding,'that I had personal business
to discuss with her.
“ Mademoiselle,” said I, with a solemn tone, after
she had seated me opposite to herself, “ you are igno-
rant of the motive w ich has led me hither; but when
you shall know it, perhaps the step I have taken will
excite your interest.”
The hump-backed damsel thought that I was going
to make an open avowal ; the colour rushed to her
cheeks, and her look became animated, although she
cast her eyes on the ground. I continued:
“ Doubtless, you will be astonished that at my age
one can be as deeply enamoured as at twenty years
old.”
“ Ah, sir, you are still 'oung,” said the amiable
Humpina, whose mistake would not allow to be
prolonged.
“ Why, pretty well for that,” I added, “ but it in
not of that I would speak. You know that in 'Paris
it is not an uncommon thing for a man and woman
to live together without the benediction of holy
Mother Church.” .
“\Vhat do you take me for, sir, to make such a.
proposal to me?” cried the little Humpetta, without
giving me time to ﬁnish my sentence. I smiled at her
mistake, and continued: “ I have no intention to make.
any such proposition; I only request that you will


mammas or vmoco. 239
Madame Hazard was mademoiselle Tonneau, who
had assumed the name by which Fossard was known in
the house; and I desired the vintner and his wife, who
were gladly led by me, to treat their lodgers as usual.
It need not be asked how willingly they followed my
instructions ; and it was agreed between us that to see
Fossard go out, and to be able to decide on the best
time to seize on him, I should ensconce myself in a
small closet under the Stairs.
At an early hour on the 29th of December, I betook
myself to my station; it was desperately cold, the
watch was a protracted one, and the more painful as we
had no ﬁre; motionless, however, and my eye ﬁxed
against a small hole in the shutter, 'I kept my post.
At last, about three o’clock, he went out; I followed,
gladly, and recognized him; for up to that period I had
my doubts. Certain now of his identity, I wished at
that moment to put into execution the order for his
apprehension; but the ofﬁcer who was with me said he
saw the terrible pistol. That I might authenticate the
fact, I walked quickly and passed Fossard ; and then re-
turning, saw clearly that the agent was right. T0 at-
tempt to arrest him would have been useless, and I re-
solved to defer it; and on recalling to mind that a fort-
night before I had ﬂattered myself with the prospect of
apprehending Fossard on the 1st of January, I was not
displeased at the delay; but till then my vigilance was
not to be relaxed for a single instant.
On the 31st of December, at eleven o’clock, when
all my batteries were charged and my plans perfect,
Fossard returned, and without distrust ascended
the staircase shaking with cold; and twenty minutes
after, the disappearance of the light indicated that he
was in bed. The moment had now arrived. The com-
missary and gendarmes, summoned by me, were waiting
at the nearest guard-house until Ishould call them, an
then enter quietly; we deliberated on the most eﬁ‘eC-
, tual mode of seizing Fossard without running the risk
of being killed or wounded; for they were persuaded


memoras or vrnoco. 243
the thief at work; but Fossard, putting himself on the
defensive, escaped. A window was open near him,
and, darting out of it, he fell into the street without
injury, and disappeared as swift as lightning.
Another time, whilst he was escapin , he was sur-
prised on the tiles of _Bicétre, and ﬁre at. Fossard,
never disconcerted, continued to walk along without
stopping or hastening his ste s, and getting to that
side which looks into the ﬁel s, he slid down. The
fall was enough to have broken a hundred necks, but
he received no hurt; only the slide was so rapid, that
his clothes were rent in shreds.


248 MEMOIRS or V! DOCQ-
their return to evil courses, articularly the two last,
yet by dint of solicitations and) representations founded
on the utility they could be to me, I obtained their
freedom. Coco-Lacour, against whom the greatest
prejudice existed, because when a secret agent, he had
been accused (rightly or wrongfully is a question) of
stealing the plate of the inspector-general Veyrat, is the
only one who has given me no cause to repent of having
in some degree become answerable for his conduct.
The two others soon compelled me to eXpel them, and
they have since been condemned at Bourdeaux. As
for Coco, I thought he would keep his word, and I was
not deceived. As he was very intelligent, and had some
knowledge of his business, I made him my secretary.
Subsequently, in consequence of some remonstrances I
made him, he gave me in his resignation, as did two of
his comrades, Decostard, called Procureur, and another
named Chrétien. Coco-Lacour is now the chief police
agent; and until he publishes his Memoirs, it may not
be uninteresting to show the vicissitudes through which
he has passed in attaining the post which I so long
ﬁlled. There are many palliatives for his course of life ;
and in his radical reformation from capital crimes, are
shewn potent reasons why we should never despair of the
return of a man of perverted courses of life to the paths
of rectitude. The documents from which I shall ex-
tract the principal features of the history of my suc-
cessor, are most correctly authentic. Here we have
the ﬁrst traces of his existence left at the refecture of
police. I open the “ Registres de suret ,” and thus
transcribe :— '
“ LACOUR, Marie-Barthelemy, aged eleven years, re—
siding Rue du Lycée; sent to the Force 9th Ventose,
year 9, charged with an attempt at robbery: eleven
days afterwards sentenced to a month’s imprisonment
by the Correctional Tribunal.
.“ The same, upgrehended 2nd Prairial following, and
again sent to the orce accused of stealing lace in a


marroras or vrooco. 251
under his care, and must have aided his studies with
much attention, as in a short time Coco could speak
and write his own language in a tolerably correct
manner. The good graces of M. Mulner were not the
only advantage which Lacour derived from an agree-
able exterior. During the whole of his imprisonment,
a female, called Elisa l’Allemande, (German Eliza).
who was enamoured of him, bestowed all possible
favours on him; but this girl, to whom he owes life
itself, has, according to report, experienced only in-
gratitude from him in return. .
Lacour is a man whose height does not exceed
ﬁve feet two inches; * he is fair and bald-headed, with
a mean, nay, almost servile look; his eyes blue, but
dull; a care-worn countenance, and nose slightly
rubicund at the tip, which is the sole part of his ﬁace
that is not as pale as a corpse. He is passionately
fond of dress and trinkets, and makes a great show
of chains and gewgaws of all sorts: in his conversation
he affects great reﬁnement, and makes use of ﬁne
words upon every occasion. It is impossible to be
more pohte, nor more humble; but at the ﬁrst glance
it is perceptible that his manners are not those of
well-bred society; they are rather those derived from
the genteel part of the inmates of prisons, and those
places which Lacour has frequented. He has all the
suppleness of loins needful to keep a man in place;
and moreover has a wonderful aptitude for genuﬂexion.
Tartuffe himself, and the resemblance is striking in
more than one particular, could not acquit himself
more satisfactorily.
Lacour having become my secretary, could not be
made to understand, that, to preserve the decorum of
his post, his lady companion, who had turned fruiteress
and washerwoman, after giving up a certain other em-
ployment, would do well to choose a business some-
what more respectable. A discussion on this subject
' Nearly 5 feet 8 inches English measure.


~ Memorns or VlDOCQ. 2255
to give my orders for the day, to receive reports, or
to give audiences to persons who, having been robbed,
came to me with their complaints, trusting to having
the thieves detected.
Up to the moment of my quitting ofﬁce, the olice
of safety—the only requisite police, that which s ould
have received the greater portion of the funds allowed
by the budget, because it is on it principally that
reliance has been placed—the police of safety, I say,
has never employed more than thirty men, nor cost
more than 50,000 francs per annum, from which ﬁve
were allotted to me.
Such have been, at the utmost, the effective force
and the expense of the Brigade de Sureté: with so
small a number of auxiliaries, and means so limited,
I have maintained security in the bosom of a capital,
populated by nearly a million of inhabitants. I have
broken up all the associations of malefactors ; I have
prevented their reunion; and during the year since I
have left the police, if no new gangs have been formed,
although robberies have increased, it is because all
_the ‘ﬁrst-rate professors’ have been conﬁned at the
.Bagnes, when I had the commission to pursue them,
and the power to repress them.
Before my time, strangers and country people
.looked on Paris as a den of infamy, where it was
requisite to keep incessantly on the alert; and where
all comers, however guarded and careful, were sure
to pay their footing. Since my~time, there was no
department, taking the year round, in which more
_crimes, and more horrible crimes, were perpetrated
.than in the department of the Seine; now there is
none in which fewer guilty offenders have remained
unknown, or fewer crimes remained unpunished. In
truth, since 1814, the continued vigilance of the
national uard has powerfully contributed to such
results. lqever was the watchfulness of a national
.guard more requisite, and more efﬁcient: but still it
must be allowed that, at the period when the com-


256 ammonia or vrnoco.
pulsory enlistment of our troops, and the desertion of
foreign soldiers poured out upon our metropolis, a
crowd of bad characters, adventurers, and needy
persons of all nations, in spite of the presence of the
national guard, much work was still to be performed
by the brigade of safety and their chief. And we did
much; and if I feel pleasure in paying to the national
guard the well-earned tribute of their merits,~—-if from
the experience I had during their existence, and since
their disbanding, I declarethat Paris without them
cannot be in safety, it is because I have always found
in them an intelligence, an anxiety to assist, a perfect
desire to act in concert for the public good, which
I have never observed in the gendarmes, who
manifest their zeal, for the most part, by acts of
brutality, after the actual danger has passed. I
have left for the present police of safety an inﬁnity
'of precedents, and the traditions of my enterprizes
will not soon be forgotten: but whatever may be
the abilities of my successor, as long as Paris shall
be destitute of its civil guard, no measures will re-
duce to a state of inaction the generation of male-
factors, which will spring up from the instant that
a watch' ceases to be ke t, at all hours, and in all
quarters. The chief o the police cannot be at
all points at once, and each of his agents has not the
hundred arms of Briareus. On looking over the
columns of the daily journals, we are alarmed at the
enormous quantity of violent burglaries nightly com-
mitted, and yet the, journals do not detail nine-tenths
of those that occur. It appears that a gang of gal-
ley-slaves has recently established itself on the
banks of the Seine. The shopkeepers, even in the
most frequented and most populous streets, cannot
sleep in safety: the Parisian is afraid to leave his
apartments for a short excursion into the country:
we hear of nothing but breakings in, doors opened ‘
with false keys, apartments plundered, &c.; and et we
are in the season of the year most favourable or the


MEMOIRS or vrnoco. 257
lower orders. What must we then expect, when
.winter comes on, and when, by the interruption of
labdur, misery will add to her numbers? For, in
spite of the assertions of some persons about the king,
who are desirous of remaining in ignorance of all that
passes around them, misery will engender crime; and
misery in a society which is ill combined, is not a
scourge from which we can always shield ourselves,
even when indefatigably industrious. The moralists
.of a time when the population was secure, might have
been able to assert, that the idle only are liable to die
of hunger; but now all is changed, and if we make
observations, we shall soon be convinced, not only
that there is not employment sufﬁcient for everybody,
but, moreover, that the pay for certain labour is not
sufﬁcient to satisfy the ﬁrst demands of nature. If
circumstances occur as severe as many anticipate,
when trade is languishing, so that industry is exerted
vainly in seeking a market for its productions, and
that she is impoverished in proportion as she creates,
how can so great an evil be remedied P Certainly, it
is better to support the necessitous than to think of
repressing their despair; but in the impossibility of
doing better, and the crisis so near at hand, is it not
adviseable, in the ﬁrst instance, to strengthen the arms
of public order? And what guard is preferable to
the continual presence of the civic body, who watch
and act perpetually under the auspices of legality and
honour? Shall we substitute for an institution so
noble, so admirable, a changeable police, whose num-
'bers can be extended orcurtailed at pleasure? Or,
shall we have a legion of agents, who will be discharged
the moment they are thought past service? It is
generally known that the police of safety is recruited
even at the present time from the prisons and Bagnes,
which are a sort of preparatory school for spies on
robbers, and the nursery whence they must be drawn.
Employ these people in numbers, and seek to send
them back again when they have acquired the know-
z 2


_ MEMOIRS or VIDOCQ. 259
personal affairs, but it was a necessary preliminary
that I should impart a knowledge of the vicissitudes
through which I have passed to become the Hercules
for whom was reserved the purging the earth of dire
monsters, and cleansing out the Augean stable. I did
not reach the eminence in a single day, but have
furnished a long career of observation and painful
experience. Soon,—-and I have given some triﬂing
specimens of my means to do so,-—I will detail my
labours, the efforts I have made, the perils I have
confronted, the plots and stratagems to which I have
had recourse, to fulﬁl the utmost of my duty, and to
render Paris the safest residence in the world. I will
unfold the expedients resorted to by the thieves, and
the signs by which they may be detected; I will
write of their manners and their habits; I will explain
their language and their costume, according to the
peculiarities of each; for thieves have a costume
adapted to the enterprizes in which they are engaged.
I will propose infallible measures for the destruction
of all rogueries, and putting a stop to the destructive
skill of all those swindlers, cheats, impostors, &c. &c.
who, in spite of Sainte Pelagic, and despite the
useless and barbarous custom of personal arrest
(contrainte par corps), daily cheat to the extent of
millions (francs). I will lay open all the modes and
tactics practised by all these scoundrels to catch their
‘gudgeons.’ I will do ‘all this, aye, more ;’ I will
mention by name the principal of them, and thus
brand them in the forehead with a distinguishing
mark. I will class the different grades of malefactors,
from the murderer to the pickpocket, and form of
them lists more useful than those of La Bourdonnaie
for the use of the proscribers of 1815; for mine will,
at least, have the advantage to pointing out at the
vﬁrst glance, the persons and places to whom mistrust
should be attached. I will expose to the eyes of the
honest man, all the snares laid to catch him; and I
‘will note .down, for the use of the criminal accuser,


262 MRMOIRS or “130cm.
they have never detected when they were real, or only
discovered when they themselves had concocted them.
Iwill develope all these things without disguise, without
fear, without temper; I will tell the whole truth,
whether I speak as a witness or as an actor.
I have always held political spies in the most pro-
found contempt, and for two reasons : ﬁrst, if they
never fulﬁl their orders, _they are rogues; and if they
do fulﬁl them, as soon as it becomes a personal matter,
they are wretches. Yet, my functions frequently placed
me in contact with the majority of these hireling spies ;
they were all known to me directly or indirectly, and I
shall name them all. I can do it; Iliave not shared
their infamy; I have only seen the mine and counter-
mine somewhat nearer than any other person. I know
what are the resources of the polices and counter-
polices. I have learnt, and will communicate the
means of ensuring their services; how to play them
oﬁ, to disturb their treacherous and malevolent plot-
tings, and even mystify them. I have observed all,
understood all; nothing has escaped me; and those
who gave me my cue for hearing and understanding
all, were not false brethren; for, as l was at the head
of one of the portions of police, they might think
I was a bird of their feather. Did we not all grind at
the same mill? .
I may be believed or not; but so far I have made
some confessions so humiliating, as to leave no doubt
that if I had belonged to the political police, I should
unhesitatingly avow all. The journals, which are not
always well-informed, have asserted that they had fre-\
quently discovered me in different enterprises; that I
andmy brigade were in action during the troubles of
June ; during the missions; at the burial of General Pay;
.at the anniversary of the death of young Lallemand; at
( the schools of law and medicine, when certain ques-
tions were agitated. It would be easy to assert that I
was wherever a multitude assembled; but what would
be the fair inference? Why, that I was seeking for


MEMOIRS OF VIDOCQ. 265
restored to me, I will omit nothing, I will disguise
nothing which it is ﬁtting to say; and it shall still be
for the service of the state and the public, that I will
be indiscreet: this intention will be evident in every
subsequent page. That I may perform it in a way
which will leave me nothing to desire, and not to de- '
ceive the general expectation in any way, I have im-
posed on myself a task- very painful for a man more
accustomed to do than to narrate, that of revising the
greater part of these Memoirs. They were terminated,
and I might have given them as they were; but, in ad-
dition to the inadequacy of a careless style, the reader
would therein detect the mark of a strange inﬂuence
which I must have submitted to unwillingly. Dis-
trusting myself, and little accustomed to the requisites
of the literary world, I had submitted my work to the
revision of a soi-disant man of letters. Unfortunately,
in this censor, whose private orders I was far from
suspecting, I met with one who, for a bribe, had un-
dertaken to emaseulate my manuscript, and only to
present me under the most odious colours; to pervert
my meaning, and deprive all I wished to say of its due
importance. A very severe accident, the fracture of
my right arm, which I was on the point of having am-
putated in consequence, was a favourable occurrence
in aid of the perpetration of such a project; and
therefore all haste was made to proﬁt by the period
of my excessive sufferings. The ﬁrst volume and part
of the second were already printed, when all this in-
trigue was discovered. To render it perfect, I must
have re-commenced, at a fresh expense; but to that
time only my private adventures were detailed; and
although I am drawn in the most unfavourable colours,
I hope that in spite of the expressions and bad arrange-
ment, since the facts are told, the just estimation will
be set on them, and the most correct inferences drawn.
All that portion of the narrative which only relates to
my private life, I have allowed to remain. I had the
right to subscribe to a sacriﬁce of my self-love; _a
A A


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