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 MEMOIRS 
 
 OF 
 
 MADAME MANSON, 
 
 EXPLANATORY OF HER CONDUCT 
 
 i 
 
 ON 
 
 FOR 
 
 THE ASSASSINATION 
 
 OF 
 
 M. FUALDES. 
 
 WRITTEN BY HERSELF, 
 
 AXD 
 
 ADDRESSED TO MADAME ENJALRAN, HER MOTHER. 
 
 WITH A PORTRAIT AND FAOSIMILE. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PUBLISHED BY J. BUMPUS, 6, LOWER HOLBORN. 
 
 SOLD BY 
 
 SHERWOOD, NEELY, AND JONES, PATERNOSTER-ROW ; BLACKLOCK, 
 
 ROYAL EXCHANGE J C. CHAVPELL, PALL-MALL J W. SHARPE, 
 
 KING-STREET J AND ALL OTHER BOOKSELLERS. 
 
 1818.
 
 
 t riated by J. M'Creery, Black Hone Court, 
 Fleet Street, London.
 
 UCSB LIBRARY 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 IN the following attempt to convey to the Bri- 
 tish public, a work which has excited such un- 
 usual interest in France, as to pass through 
 three editions, in almost the same number of 
 days, the aim of the translator has been to make 
 as close a translation as possible of the ori- 
 ginal. If his design has been successful, the 
 reader will peruse the extraordinary memoir of 
 a very extraordinary woman, though not in her 
 own words, yet as nearly as it could be rendered 
 in her own turn of thought. He has no where 
 presumed, for the sake of aiming at elegance, to 
 sacrifice faithfulness ; judging that it would 
 be more acceptable to those who may honour 
 this work with a perusal, to be presented with 
 those reasons which the writer has herself 
 thought proper to assign, for her unparalleled 
 conduct, in a nearly literal version of her own 
 pamphlet. Whoever may open this little work 
 with any view beyond that of hearing Madame
 
 IV 
 
 I 
 
 Manson plead her own cause, will be disap- 
 pointed. Those, however, who take the trouble 
 to read it through, will, the translator flatters 
 himself, have her own, and nothing but her own, 
 statement of facts ; and to the judgment of the 
 reader, he leaves it to pronounce sentence on that 
 which is, to him, inexplicable. Should any 
 errors have unavoidably escaped the notice of 
 the translator, he must claim indulgence, on 
 account of the haste which he has been obliged 
 to use in bringing it out ; under the additional 
 disadvantage of struggling with the languor 
 attendant on ill health. 
 
 JLondon, 
 February 5th, 1818. 
 
 
 *
 
 
 TO THE EDITOR. 
 
 SIR, 
 
 You are going to publish the Memoirs which 
 .Madame Manson, with the express intention of pro- 
 mulgating them, confided to me at Rodez; you 
 have deemed it proper to remark, that, originally in- 
 dited as a simple letter, and with the sole object of 
 family confidence, these Memoirs would be deficient 
 in some essential details. You decide that, in order 
 to satisfy the expectations and the pressing curiosity 
 .of our readers, it will 1 be expedient to annex to them 
 notes explanatory of some passages, and observations 
 less requisite to throw light on the text, than to con- 
 vey an idea of the singular character of the author. 
 In fine, you desire a hasty sketch of the earlier years 
 of her youth. 
 
 I acknowledge the justice of these views; I will 
 also grant that the advantage of being enabled, on 
 .the very spot which was the scene of these events, to 
 gather from Madame Manson herself, and from the 
 persons who had the best knowledge of them, the 
 precise facts, and the clearest opinions, may inspire 
 some .confidence in the recital which I can transmit
 
 to you j and yet I find myself under some perplexity 
 in satisfying you ; not that the conduct of this cele- 
 brated witness does not appear to myself distinctly 
 unveiled ; not that her avowals leave either doubt or 
 uncertainty in my own mindj but I am sensible of 
 the difficulty of conveying to the dispassionate reader, 
 or to the prejudiced reviewer, a clear comprehension 
 of the entire case. In her ingenuous statement, 
 which is in other respects so remarkable for the grace 
 and facility of a style which has allowed of no cor- 
 rections, Madame Manson has by no means that 
 method of narrating, that developement of facts, that 
 light thrown so powerfully on circumstances, which 
 we find in the simplest brief of a pleader. Who would 
 dare flatter himself with supplying it, when she is 
 still in that perilous situation in which the least word 
 may do an ill office, to her meaning ? So much of 
 the marvellous has been sought for in this affair, that 
 the best informed shrink back from the simple expli- 
 cation which they could give, according to the idea 
 which they have matured. I lack confidence to pro- 
 duce a natural hypothesis, where all France has sup- 
 posed so many artifices, united interests, and pro- 
 found combinations. Not doubtless, because there 
 is nothing of the marvellous at the bottom of this 
 history ; otherwise Madame Manson could not escape 
 the accusation of inconsiderateness and frivolity 3 but 
 this marvellous does not hide itself in the facts j it 
 reposes in the human heart ; it is in the contradic- 
 tory emotions of a woman dismayed, influenced) and 
 menaced. 
 
 To explain the conduct of this female on the trial
 
 for the assassination of M. Fualdes, let us attempt to 
 analyze the resolutions which she has been seen to 
 adopt in the course of events anterior to this memo- 
 rable period, and let us throw a coup-cTceil on her 
 education, character, and life. She would not impli- 
 cate any one but herself in the reproach incurred by 
 the errors which she has committed, and the misfor- 
 tunes which she has undergone ; I will force myself 
 to imitate her submissive reserve. The cause of this 
 silence may be generous : and if such is the case, 
 where is the man who would not admire it, though 
 even from that circumstance her justification should 
 appear less complete and less signal ? 
 
 Clarissa Enjalran was born at Rodez in 1785. 
 She was almost entirely brought up in the country, 
 in an ancient chateau named le Perrie, which her 
 father purchased of M. de Bonald, at the commence- 
 ment of the revolution. Her childhood was little 
 indebted to education, and passed away in the midst 
 of our political storms. A retreat, where her unfet- 
 tered inclinations unfolded themselves, is sufficiently 
 favourable to ideas of exaltation; and I have else- 
 where observed how much this imposing solitude may 
 have served to the developement of a romantic heart. 
 Clarissa was from her birth endued with a very supe- 
 rior mind, great delicacy of wit, and exquisite sensi- 
 bility; she early imbibed affections which might 
 minister to the activity of her soul. She loved her 
 parents, and particularly her mother, with a sort of 
 passion. In the dangers which her father ran during 
 the troubles of our anarchy, she, by the side of this 
 courageous mother, displayed an heroic resignation. 
 
 B 2
 
 Report has spoken of an attachment that would have 
 ensnared her young heart, and the object of which 
 was beneath the rank of her family and her expecta- 
 tions : we shall not weary ourselves with these float- 
 ing rumours, which are, to say the least, uncertain. 
 She espoused M. Manson, in compliance with her 
 father's desire j and this union was not happy. At 
 the expiration of three months the new married 
 couple were separated. The officer, who had given 
 her his hand, departed for Spain, and left her in the 
 enjoyment of a liberty, which he had not till then 
 permitted her, to resign herself into the hands of her 
 mother. She found herself exposed to the dangers of 
 the world, and its remarks; you know the air of our 
 provinces j it seems that in the circles of a little 
 town, one disdains to suppose the rigid observation 
 of propriety, in order with a malicious complaisance 
 to seek to envenom the most indifferent actions* 
 Madame Manson, it must be allowed, lent more 
 colour than any person, to scandalous interpretations: 
 she was singular, for she was superior ; and her inde- 
 pendent character sowed enemies at her feet. On 
 the return of the expedition from Spain, her husband 
 came back to share his fire-side: they soon separated 
 anew. M. Manson caused a legal order to be signi- 
 fied to his consort to come and dwell with him : but 
 the young woman was near her indulgent consoler ; 
 she refused to obey him, and subscribed her refusal, 
 indignant that he should cause a bailiff to interpose 
 in their conjugal dissensions. 
 
 She received new and more tender entreaties, and 
 some time after, the husband whom she had refused
 
 to accompany, was in the chateau, under a disguise, 
 concealed and privately nourished by the cares of his 
 wife, who appeared to derive more animating attrac- 
 tions from a connexion thus disguised. The wedded 
 lover was discovered ; one would have believed the re- 
 union easy ! but Madame Enjalran could only use 
 the remonstrances made by tenderness, to compel her 
 daughter to separate herself from her; the husband 
 was again sacrificed. Madame Manson knew how 
 to shift him off; but, under the pj-etext of going some- 
 times to the village, to accomplish a pious duty, she 
 gave him an interview in the woods. What shall ex- 
 plain the caprices of a heart so hard to be understood, 
 as to demand, in the charm of duty, the pensive 
 illusions of love ? The character of Madame Manson 
 alone: in studying it well, one perceives that what 
 exalted imaginations represent to themselves as chi- 
 merical, is naturally found in her, in such manner, 
 that it is impossible, whoever sketches an historic por- 
 trait of her, should not appear to have traced from 
 fancy that of a heroine of romance. Madame de 
 Stael would say of this lady, that she had not pro- 
 saic genius. Does it not appear as if this passage of 
 Corinna was appropriate to her? " The vulgar take 
 for folly the uneasy workings of a soul which in this 
 nether world does not respire sufficient air, sufficient 
 enthusiasm, sufficient hope."* 
 
 However, it came to pass, the young wife became 
 
 * The Duchess of Lbngueville, so well known by the originality 
 of her genius, and her connexions with the first men of the en- 
 lightened age, wrote one day, after having drank with delight a 
 glass of water, " What a pity it is that it is not a sin ! "
 
 6 
 
 a mother; and from this event in her life, that lift 
 underwent an entire change. It was not the same 
 with her destiny ; her husband obtained a place many 
 leagues from Rodez: the unfortunate woman re- 
 mained solitary, reduced to an insufficient pension, 
 and if one can believe the proceedings of the suit 
 which has just been annulled, very irregularly paid. 
 I shall be asked, perhaps, how I became instructed 
 in the greatest part of these details; how, arrived at 
 Rodez, to attend the new deliberations on the trial 
 respecting Fualdes, I find myself entrusted with the 
 confessions of an important witness; I will eagerly 
 reply to them : I hold the original documents from 
 the most unexceptionable source :* if I have inspired 
 the mysterious captive with any confidence, I doubt- 
 less solely owe it to the advantage of having been 
 introduced to her by an ecclesiastic, the friend of her 
 family. Our unusual visits consoled her: far from 
 approaching her with the prejudices with which 
 
 * If one had seen Madame Enjalran for a few instants, one would 
 cease to be astonished that she was the object of unanimous ap- 
 plause. We find in a Memoir, printed at Montpellier in 1810, 
 respecting a suit instituted by M. de Planard, the brother of thig 
 lady, against her husband, eulogiums which do honour to the 
 brother and to the sister. M. de Planard claims from M. Enjalran 
 property, fallen without doubt into the conjugal community, and 
 yet he pleases himself in the midst of his reclamations with render- 
 ing homage to the disinterested character and to all the virtues of 
 Madame Enjalran. 
 
 Since we have here cited M. Planard, whose name associates itself 
 with the recollection of more than one literary triumph, we cannot 
 refuse ourselves the pleasure of adding, that in fact one of his sons 
 (the cousin-german of Madame Manson) is the young poet, whose 
 works have succeeded on al most all our principal theatres.
 
 those who sought her came armed, we found the 
 means of comprehending, of compassionating, of 
 hearing her. In one of these conversations, in which 
 the learned Abbe P. shewed himself so worthy of his 
 ministry, embarrassed with the explanation of some 
 particulars, with questions which arose, between us, 
 with facts which were not satisfactorily accounted for, 
 we requested of her to recount her own story. She 
 hearkened to us with tears: confirmed by additions 
 to this recita^ the truth which we had supposed, and 
 then imparted to us the MS. which you this day 
 publish. Charged to submit it to her mother, before 
 causing it to be printed, I brought it back to Madame 
 Manson, with the answer which she solicited from 
 her only friend. If she swerved from the counsel 
 which had been pointed out to her, by taking the pre- 
 vious advice of her father, it is for the reader to deter- 
 mine, after having perused this memoir, if she had a 
 right to free herself from it, and if we ought to refuse, 
 in the state of abandonment in which she was left, to 
 concur in giving publicity to a writing advantageous 
 to her misfortune, and perhaps also to justice and to 
 truth. 
 
 1 would make you exactly acquainted with Ma- 
 dame Manson. I discern no surer means than by 
 citing her own sentiments upon her character, freely 
 expressed in one of her letters, and to leave her thus 
 in an unstudied attitude to judge of and to paint 
 herself. 
 
 " You have a right to be very much asto- 
 nished, Sir;" she wrote a few days since j* "you 
 
 * The 4th December.
 
 8 
 
 doubtless looked for acknowledgements on my part in 
 the most elegant phraseology : in place of that I have 
 been almost as clumsy with you as with M. de Gazes.* 
 Would you believe, that gratitude and fear produce 
 sometimes the same effects on persons of sensibility. 
 I am just about affording you demonstration of it: 
 I am going to prove to you both that I know how to 
 refind the use of speech, and that I am not always 
 mute. 
 
 "What do I not owe you, Sir? You have had 
 the goodness to make a journey expressly to tranquil- 
 lize me on account of my child ; you have seen my 
 mother, my son, my brother ; you assure me of their 
 constant love, and that they take the same interest 
 in the poor recluse. I have passed one happy day 
 in the last five months, and it is to you that I owe 
 it ! You are arrived d propos to reconcile me to man- 
 kind, and to correct my misanthropy. However, I 
 believe you gifted with great insight and penetration, 
 you have not as yet seen me long enough to form to 
 yourself an idea of my character. I have said that 
 nobody understood me, and it is true. Scarcely do I 
 know myself, . and I daily study myself. I am myself 
 astonished: I am inexplicable; so says my mother. 
 I do nothing like other people : it has been my lot 
 to be unjustly accused; and through the effect of 
 pride ill understood, or if you like it better, of my 
 eccentricity, I disdain to justify myself. I am ca- 
 pable of the most important efforts in order to 
 oblige: nothing is so flattering to me as inspiring 
 sentiments of gratitude. I rarely calculate on the 
 
 * Prefect of Tarn.
 
 events which will result from an action that my heart 
 prompts me to do, and it is rarely that I experience 
 remorse. I always act without premeditation : in 
 short, I am believed to have what is called a dis- 
 ordered head ; at least they daily tell me so. I wrote 
 lately to a person, that what was defective in my 
 mien, might easily be found in my heart; but go 
 seek it : what is once entered there, passes out no 
 more. 
 
 " My conduct in the trial about M. Fualdes ap- 
 peared very extraordinary ; I have nevertheless been 
 actuated by the same motives : the discovery of the 
 truth, the justification of my father, the preservation 
 of my son; and here is every thing, I believe. I 
 have deceived myself; I have missed the aim which 
 I proposed to myself: it is not the only time, and it 
 will happen to me yet again. Can an inconsiderate 
 woman correct herself? Never 3 and I have not a 
 hope of it. 
 
 " I do not know how to recapitulate : endeavour 
 to do it for me. I would see an analysis of my cha- 
 racter that you should have prep'ared ; you have the 
 particulars ; the recapitulation is with you. 
 
 " You have asked, Sir, my commissions for Paris : 
 I would desire a work, the title of which may be 
 " A complete History of the Trial respecting M. 
 Fualdes" with historical notes as to the principal 
 personages who have figured in this affair; a new 
 edition, revised, corrected, and embellished with a 
 portrait, a striking likeness of Madame Manson. 
 You will do me the pleasure to send it me, with the 
 papers that you have promised me. You have told
 
 10 
 
 me that you would furnish me with the means of 
 acquitting myself to you; but, under a certain bear- 
 ing, I defy you to do it. 
 
 ****** 
 
 " Take yourself away most expeditiously : we 
 shall pass for conspirators ; and your pity for an un- 
 fortunate will give you the air of an accomplice; 
 they will at least believe that I have told you my 
 secret, and you will be put in the inquisition. .Adieu, 
 Sir; do not forget the cell of Father Chabot. I am 
 going to take my leave of you ; my paper is finished; 
 tell me if I have employed it well, and if your views 
 are fulfilled, I will thank my tried instructor. Re- 
 ceive the assurances of my esteem. 
 
 " ENJALRAN M." 
 
 Such is Madam Manson, serious and sober. To 
 appreciate her gaiety, and that unshaken calm which 
 she knew how to retain in the melancholy recesses of 
 a prison, re- peruse the note, which forms at the com- 
 mencement of this volume the fac simile of her writ- 
 ing, and the particulars which she added still more 
 recently.* 
 
 " Your sojourn at Rodez has put many wise heads 
 a wondering : for myself, I am more and more under 
 a close confinement. I require the most rigorous 
 secrecy, the most peremptory orders, in short, that a 
 single line from my hand should not go abroad. 
 Good God ! how fond of precaution are those people ! 
 How is one to deceive them ! My jailor is mad. I 
 
 * The 8th December.
 
 11 
 
 tell him that I know every thing, in despite of hif 
 vigilance : he daily makes me domiciliary visits : he 
 searches every where, imagining that you have left 
 some sylph in my cell. I have told him that I wrote 
 without paper, ink, or pen. Have I not studied the 
 Turkish salam, and the Egyptian hieroglyphic ? I 
 have told him that I was a magician, and, what is still 
 more droll, is, that he is persuaded of it. A woman, 
 whose parents have been shut up in 1793, and who 
 has followed them into their prison, has been edu- 
 cated in the art of deceiving jailors. For the rest, if 
 mine occasionally grows angry, I do him justice, and 
 he only does his duty. Concede to me this little pa- 
 ragraph in favour of my old turnkey ; he is a valiant 
 man, and I fancy him. 
 
 " They have just told me that I am decidedly in 
 the number of the accused ; but this does not hinder 
 my smiles; my judges will be more embarrassed than 
 myself. They have come to ask me some questions 
 regarding you : I have replied, that I had charged 
 you with a request for my Lord Keeper of the 
 seals. Have I told a falsehood ? I write to you 
 without too perfect an acquaintance with the means 
 I shall use to convey my letter from hence; but 
 angel or devil, somebody shall take charge of it. 
 
 " Adieu, restorer of my gaiety; rely on my per- 
 fect esteem, and even on myattachment. 
 
 Endeavour to comprehend me. It matters little if I
 
 am inexplicable to all the world, so that I am not so 
 to my friends." 
 
 The recapitulation which Madame Manson men- 
 tions in one of these letters, will be superfluous to 
 whoever will attentively read the lines which she has 
 inscribed; every thing is there, and every thing is 
 there most rigorously explained ; but occasionally, 
 perhaps, the reflection of the reader must arrive to the 
 relief of the conclusions understood by the author. 
 Let it not be forgotten, that a passionate impulse 
 may lead such a character to make a false avowal, 
 and to sustain it, in a private interview, by the im- 
 pression which she pleases herself in producing. Let 
 it not be forgotten, that the first step of the accused 
 was to retract her absurd discourse as soon as justice 
 demanded an account of it ; for if Madame Manson 
 is fallen into the contradictions of a nameless com- 
 plaisance; if she has yielded to long pursuit, to the 
 weakness of her courage and of her animal strength ; 
 in short, to the menaces which have, she says, been 
 made to her against her son it is proved that she is 
 risen again from this imbecility ; that she has never 
 uttered a judicial falsehood, has never violated the 
 faith of her oath. 
 
 We know that, owing to a universal prejudice, 
 which appertains to the effervescence of a southern 
 spirit, an entire town was on the instant persuaded 
 that she had been present at a murder ; and then to 
 explain the importunity of two persons who charged 
 her with it, it is sufficient to call to mind the self- 
 conviction of the first, and the praiseworthy, but 
 perhaps too ardent zeal, with which he was thus ani-
 
 mated for the public good. For the second, what need 
 is there to render his motives complex, and resort to 
 them, as has been done, under the suspicion of being 
 an accomplice, or of the union of pecuniary interests 
 with one of the suspected. They have claimed belief 
 of the innocence of this suspected person, by the sole 
 motive that he was his friend j for one does not im- 
 pute criminality to those whom one esteems. If M. 
 Enjalran was a father, he was a magistrate ; and con- 
 vinced as a magistrate, he was able to prefer the tri- 
 umph of what he called the truth, to the honor of his 
 daughter, which was already so compromised. For 
 this daughter (at the same time courageous and feeble), 
 she has proved by her conduct, that she 'had sur- 
 mounted all afflictions, except the inquisition of the 
 mind, the moral rack, the torture of the heart, 
 
 She appeared at the sitting of the 22d of August ; 
 you shall see what proof she had to undergo ! Terri- 
 fic words escaped her ; and in the sequel, when she 
 was asked why she had cried out " Remove those as- 
 sassins from my sight /" " Why should I not have 
 said it," answered she, " if they caused me to appear 
 in this condition before the accused, and if my delU 
 - rium has seen in their bloody hands, a poniard ? 
 This frightful illusion was fatal to them Is it my 
 fault, if / have witnessed it ? Is it my fault, if they 
 deny all credence to my calm and collected deposi- 
 tions, to gather the words of my phrenzy. I am 
 compelled to make a futile and unofficial declaration: 
 it is adopted. Free, restored to the exercise of my con- 
 science, I pass no longer but for a false witness. 
 They believe the wanderings of my brain j they re-
 
 u 
 
 fuse the statement of my collected reason. By what 
 fatality have the convulsions of a woman, who twice 
 fainted away, regulated the terrible verdict of a 
 jury ? " 
 
 One remark, which has been often made, and in 
 trials not less striking than this, is the species of de- 
 fence upon which the public conviction rests against 
 every circumstance that emanates from an accused 
 person, to whom the resources of the mind are ad- 
 mitted. Talent passes for stratagem, and every kind 
 of eloquence for a snare; whilst they suffer themselves 
 to be overcome by the allegations of an illiterate cul- 
 prit, when these very allegations are given with the 
 weightiest interest in the cause, Missionier had not 
 found minds that revolted more from the belief that 
 he was an accomplice, than Madame Manson, when 
 she wished to prove that, she was not a witness.* 
 
 To conclude, I am not armed with the means of 
 justifying all the acts, and all the colourings in the 
 conduct of Madam Manson : this would be under- 
 taking more than she can do herself: I only wish to 
 put her intention succinctly in action ; a more able 
 defender will finish this task. I do not deny to my- 
 self the idea, that she bears a character, at the least 
 extraordinary, on that very ground where nothing, 
 perhapsi but a steady and ample good faith was re- 
 
 * It is- especially during the revolution that these examples were 
 too frequent When Vergniaud appeared before his judges, he 
 pronounced a calm and admirable discourse, before abandoning his 
 life to them. The effect of his eloquence was to enrage the audi- 
 tors, and some of the spectators said, " what a cunning rascal is that, 
 md what good grounds they have to condemn him**
 
 15 
 
 quisite. The desire of a certain celebrity may, for 
 some short time, have possessed her. 
 
 But, if after drawing a moral line, with every geo- 
 metric rigour, you said, such is the path which it is 
 proper to follow, you will easily perceive how Ma- 
 dame Manson has wandered from it. However, it is 
 just to bear in mind, that one cannot expect from 
 the weakness and from the inconsistency of a terrified 
 woman, what a man, of determined spirit and sto- 
 ical mind, might have done. 
 
 I have refrained from making the smallest altera- 
 tion in the original digest of her recital, though she 
 had given me entire liberty to make corrections in it^ 
 only where I have judged some slight annotations in- 
 dispensable, I have annexed them without attaching 
 the responsibility^ of them to her. 
 
 As, in contempt of the claims of her misfortune, 
 false sentiments and false statements are daily attri- 
 buted to her, I declare to you that she insists that 
 every precaution should be employed to guarantee 
 the authenticity of her confessions. Her manuscript 
 is in her own writing ; it does not contain a single 
 word which is not penned by her own hand. You 
 will be so good as to have it copied, read over, and 
 collated, and take the trouble of depositing the origi- 
 nal with one of the notaries at Paris.* 
 
 For myself, Sir, whilst you execute this delicate 
 commission, I repair to Albi, where the witnesses, 
 the advocates, the accused, and their judges are al- 
 
 * The intention of Madam Manson has been scrupulously ful- 
 filled: we have entrusted her manuscript to M. Vienot, notary, 
 Rue des Prouvaires, No. 38.
 
 16 
 
 ready assembling, with a numerous concourse of 
 spectators, in order to continue to transmit you from 
 thence, for the public, with our habitual exactness, 
 all the records of this terrible drama. 
 
 4th January, 1818. 

 
 17 
 
 Rodez, from the Prison of the Capuchins* 
 
 December, 1817. 
 
 " IT is to the tenderest of mothers, to the most 
 faithful of friends, that I will state the truth ; she 
 alone, will probably believe and appreciate it; she 
 alone will have known how to preserve herself from a 
 fearful prejudgment. 
 
 " Listen to me, my dear mamma, compassionate 
 me, excuse me, I have no interest in deceiving you, 
 I derive important benefits from imparting to you the 
 truth, those of solacing my heart ; and, in making 
 choice of you for my guide, obtaining your advice. 
 Why have I not earlier sought it ! I should not have 
 so greatly erred. 
 
 " Behold my history : I do not relate it in a couple 
 of words, for I am going to refer to events long 
 passed. I have time to do it : and if I enter into 
 some minuter details, certain of interesting you, as I 
 have written but for you, my task will be fulfilled. 
 
 " You know that I came to dwell at Rodez towards 
 the middle of the month of October, of last year. I 
 passed all my time with the family of Pal, which is en- 
 tirely composed of respectable and quiet persons; I 
 scarcely went abroad but to go to Olemps, to church, 
 and to Madame Constans, the milliner, who supplied 
 me with all I wanted. I was in her shop one day, 
 
 C
 
 18 
 
 when I perceived a man enter, whose face was un- 
 known to me ; he assumed so free and so licentious 
 an air with this woman, that he obliged me to with- 
 draw hastily without completing my purchases. 
 
 " When I had occasion to see Madame Constans 
 again, she informed me that the person, who had so 
 much displeased me, was, the aid-de-camp of General 
 de Wautre, and a staunch royalist. e All this,' said 
 I, ' does not prove against his having been 'very 
 badly brought up, and having a very vulgar demea- 
 nour.' I have no doubt that these words were re- 
 peated to him ; Madame Constans is sufficiently in- 
 discreet to have done it. 
 
 " We were then at the end of January. I left Rodez 
 to repair to my dear mamma, where I remained till 
 the fair of mid lent* The curate of Crespins had 
 given me hopes, that at this period perhaps, he could 
 effect a reconciliation between my husband and 
 me. I left you with this hope. How fallacious 
 was it ! 
 
 " The day of this memorable fair, Edward j- 
 
 proposed to me to go and pass the evening at Madam 
 Seconds', where the ladies De Fermi were to be. I 
 consented to it, and it was agreed that my brothers 
 should come for me at eight o'clock. It is a rule 
 with the family of Pal, to shut the gates at ten. Their 
 lodgers were subject to this restraint, which inconve- 
 nienced me but little, because I never went out in 
 
 * The 17th of March, the evening but one before the assassina- 
 tion of M. Fualdes, 
 
 t One of her brothers : the second is called Gustavus.
 
 19 
 
 the evening. In going to Madame Seconds', I re- 
 marked, that they would not wait a minute for me, 
 and that I should find a bed, if it was too late when 
 we broke up. Edward and Gustavus accompanied 
 me : the party was very gay, there was an assembly 
 of young women and of young men; they sung and 
 played at different games : when it struck ten, Ed- 
 ward said to me, * Be easy, you shall sleep at the 
 hotel of Princes.' 
 
 " My last request had been, to pass the night in a 
 chair, conversing with him; I have passed more 
 painful ones, and it is not yet finished. A short time 
 after, Madame de Firmi, who appeared to me too 
 much wedded to early hours, wished me good night, 
 and went away. We followed her. They were not 
 gone to bed at Pal's : I knocked, and they opened 
 the door to me. My brothers, on taking leave of me, 
 assured me that we should see each other again : 
 indeed, they returned at 2 o'clock the next day. 
 
 " In entering my apartment, Edward told me, that 
 he had just seen Maraye in Fontana's shop; that her 
 intention was to go shortly, and take Madame Balsa 
 to walk with her, to Foral. My brother, therefore, 
 who sought a pretext to accompany these ladies, 
 begged me to dress myself, and to go and wait for 
 him at Madame Seconds'. I was not very anxious to 
 go out, because it was cold : still, I told Edward, that 
 I would come shortly. I went to Madame Seconds' : 
 I found her alone with her son-in-law. I could not 
 understand where her daughter had gone to : Balsa 
 told us, that he was going to put himself in trim to 
 
 C 2
 
 20 <*% 
 
 conduct Josephine* to Madame Bonald's, and to 
 Madame de Nattes's. Hence, I collected, that he 
 was going to make a round of visits, and I said to 
 myself adieu to the walk ! As to myself, I was but 
 little vexed at it, I preferred the good fire of the par- 
 lour where I was, to the north wind which was 
 blowing on that day, and which I should have had 
 at Foral, at the first purchase. I sat down in an arm- 
 chair, determined to wait very patiently the result 
 of my rendezvous. I chatted with Madame Seconds, 
 who told me that her daughter would not be long in 
 returning, and that her visits would be short. I 
 heard the clock strike five : e Oh,' said I, e this time 
 it is too late for walking : the sun is taking his leave 
 of us, I am going to take my leave of you too.' I 
 took my leave, and shut myself up at home. I saw 
 my brothers no more : I know not what became of 
 them all day. The next day, the 19th,f I was told 
 that they had been seen passing through our street 
 during the morning, and that they had afterwards, 
 about four o'clock, gone to Le Perrie. 
 
 " In the evening, I went down into the kitchen, 
 whilst they supped : I seated myself near the fire, 
 and commenced knitting. At half-past seven, there 
 was a knock at the door; it was M. Muret, a mer- 
 chant of Saint-Geniez. As he perceived that they 
 were still at table, he made a sign that he might not 
 disturb them, and said he would return the next day. 
 I passed the rest of the evening with the Pals, till 
 ten o'clock, when I retired to bed, after having heard 
 
 * Madame Balsa. f The day of the murder.
 
 21 
 
 a pious exhortation, and joined in the evening prayers 
 with the family. The reality of this fact is as incon- 
 testable as that of your tenderness for your daughter j 
 it is for you, my dear mother, to judge if I speak the 
 truth. 
 
 " On the following day, the 20th, I went into the 
 kitchen to take a coffee-pot, and this circumstance 
 is perhaps not unworthy of being remarked by you. 
 I saw Madame Therondel, who said to me ; * Have 
 you not heard the news ? They have found a man 
 drowned in the Aveyron.' I answered her, that for 
 some time past, they talked of nothing but disasters, 
 and that our department was particularly famous in 
 this way. It was near seven o'clock. 
 
 "I went up again into my room : in about an hour, 
 one of the children of the house came to tell me, that 
 the dead person was M. Fualdes c Ah ! so much 
 the worse,' said I, ' he was spoken of as a good* 
 man.' I had only once seen him, at his estate at 
 Serres: he loaded my mother and myself with po^ 
 liteness. I made haste to go down in order to receive 
 more full information. M. Muret was in the kitchen 
 with M. Pal ; they spoke of the murder j but they 
 were yet entirely ignorant of particulars. The ru- 
 mour of a suicide already began to be circulated, and 
 they talked idly upon this subject -I returned to my 
 apartment : I was taking my dinner, when the little 
 Pals called me to go and see the corpse, which had 
 been taken out of the water. I exclaimed : * I will 
 not go there ; the figure would re-appear to me at 
 night, and I should be alarmed' Oh ! said they, every 
 body is going there In fine, said I, we will go there.
 
 22 
 
 " We took the road by the mill of Besses. As we 
 tvere not well acquainted with the way, we proceed- 
 ed for a long time before being able to pass the river, 
 and we arrived after they had placed the body of the 
 unfortunate Fualdes upon a litter. His head was 
 covered by the skirt of his coat, which they had 
 thrown over it. I confess, that I did not then feel 
 all the interest about him, with which he has since 
 inspired me : I was ignorant of the nature of his 
 death ; and as he was already suspected of having 
 provoked it, I accompanied the corpse without being 
 much affected. If I had assisted the evening before at 
 his horrible murder, could I have had strength to witness 
 the next day, the removal of his unhappy remains. 
 I, who after an interval of more than five months, 
 have dropped down at the sight of the table where 
 they pretend that he was dispatched. I fainted on 
 entering the house of Bancal, an incontestable proof 
 of my presence in that house the 19th of March. 
 What fine proofs ! 
 
 " I return to my recital. On the road, I enquired 
 from some of the gendarmes, if they had found any 
 money about M. Fualdes; they told me they had 
 not, adding, that a person dressed in a green coat, 
 had called him to the club-house about eight in the 
 evening, and that he had not been seen any more. 
 In reaching the town, I met D'Hauterive, who was 
 walking very fast. I stopped him ; he recognized me, 
 and told me that his wife was at Gombert's,* and that 
 he was about departing. I told him that I wished to 
 
 * The keeper of the bowling-green.
 
 see her, and we descended the Ambergue. In going 
 along, I asked him if he had been informed that M. 
 Fualdes had been found in the Aveyron : he answer- 
 ed me, c Well ! what do you wish that I should do 
 in it. 1 
 
 " On entering the inn, I found Madame d'Haute- 
 rive employed in arranging her portmanteau ; she 
 told me, that she should have departed with regret 
 if she had not seen me : that her husband had been 
 unable to find my lodging ; yet a moment after, she 
 added, that she had passed the evening at my father's 
 till ten o'clock. It might have been the fountain 
 head for informing herself where I lived. 
 
 " We hardly spoke about the murder. M. and 
 Madame d'Hauterive departed in about an hour. It 
 was very bad weather : I made the observation to 
 them : they assured me thajt they were in haste. On 
 regaining my house, I was told that one Lacueille, of 
 Mur-de-Barrez, was suspected of having murdered 
 M. Fualdes, because his father, who was indebted to 
 him, had been arrested for a considerable sum, and 
 that he could not clear off his debt to him. After 
 some time, De Bastide was spoken of: but there are 
 so many De Bastides in the world ! I trembled at the 
 idea, that it might be a relation of Madame Pons. 
 
 " Towards evening, I took up my pen to give you 
 some particulars of this event : but I found myself 
 every instant making new alterations, which caused 
 me to lay aside my letter, and to wait for better in- 
 formation. Disconcerted at being able to pick up 
 nothing but vague reports, I went to Madame
 
 24 
 
 Domes,* hoping to hear something more satisfac- 
 tory. I found this lady in the square of L'Olmet, 
 chatting with Madame Tieulat. You guess what 
 was the subject ol their conversation. I asked them 
 some questions : they assured me that they knew no 
 more of it than I did. One of the young ladies 
 Andre, who dropped in, informed us that they had 
 been searching a suspicious house, in the Rue des 
 Hebdomadiers: that they had found bipod in it, and 
 that the magistrate had taken possession of the keys : 
 here is the sum of what I learnt this day, the 20th. 
 The 21st, I was told that Bastide-Gramont had 
 been examined the evening before, but that he was 
 not arrested. The 22d, which was Sunday, as I re- 
 turned from mass, Madame Pal said to me, ' Do you 
 wish to see poor Bastide de Gros, whom they ac- 
 cused of having killed M.,Fualdes; he is purchasing 
 a hat at Acquier's.' . I stepped out of the gate, the 
 shop of the hatter was opposite, I could distinguish 
 the person who was pointed out to me as Gramont 
 Bastide : I examined him, and on re-entering, I told 
 my hostess, that she was deceived : that I knew him 
 well, and that it was his brother Louis who was mar- 
 ried at La Montagne, near Vezins. On this, a violent 
 discussion arose between Madame Pal and me; and 
 justice requires, that I shoul^ state the fact; we 
 could have taken: an ;oath, she that Gramont had 
 purchased a hat at Acquier's, and I, that it was his 
 brother : see what mistakes people make. 
 
 " On Monday, the 23d, J went to Madame Con- 
 
 * Her cousin, the sister of M. Amans Rodat.
 
 25 
 
 stans. Rose Pierret entered shortly after me. I had 
 a very slight acquaintance with her, but still I had 
 seen her before your illness. Rose appeared extreme- 
 ly affected with the murder of M. Fualdes : she spoke 
 of it to us with great emotion. . ' It is horrible,' she 
 repeated, * they cut the unhappy man's throat on a 
 table, with a wretche.d knife : the foot of the table 
 was broke : they put him upon it again : he request- 
 ed an instant to commend his soul to God. No, re- 
 plied Bastide, brutally; he must die ! They will se- 
 cure all these wretches, or heaven would not be just.' 
 Such was the language that Rose Pierret held to us. 
 I acknowledge that the idea did not then strike me, 
 that she might have been at Bancal's nouse during 
 this frightful tragedy, and it was not till long after, 
 that I had conceived suspicions of this adventure. 
 
 " I was at Olemps on Tuesday evening: Amans 
 had left it in the morning, for the fair of Espalion. 
 Madame Rodat was alone with William,* ' Well,' said 
 she to me, as far off as she could perceive me, ' you 
 are doing fine things at Rodez.' Yes, I told her, we 
 render ourselves illustrious. Sophy demanded of me 
 the particulars: I gave her those which I had from 
 Rose Pierret, and which, following the words of 
 Amans, denote an eye-witness: retain this fully, my 
 dear mamma. 
 
 " Rose Pierret had made use of one expression 
 which is offensive to our language; she had said, 
 e The assassins were eager to persuade the public, 
 that M. Fualdes was destroyed by himself, but provi- 
 dence has not permitted it.' William told me, that 
 
 * Her brother.
 
 96 
 
 he had heard the beauty and the wit of Rose much 
 extolled : e for the rest,' he observed, ' one may be 
 very amiable, and speak bad French.' Amans re- 
 turned from Espalion : he had been there with your 
 cousin Regis-Delbosc. On the road, they met Jau- 
 sion and Bastide, who were going to Rodez: they 
 stopped with them an instant. Bastide wished to 
 joke untowardly enough with Rodat, who answered 
 in a frigid tone, and said to Regis when they were 
 alone, ' Here is a man who goes all the way to Rodez 
 to have himself arrested.' For this time your ne- 
 phew was a prophet : Bastide went to take up his 
 bed in prison. 
 
 Some weeks afterwards, the little Pals proposed to 
 me to go the almonry to see their sister, who is now 
 a nun at Nevers. One of the ladies of the sisterhood 
 told me that Bancal's children had made important 
 discoveries concerning the affair of M. Fualdes -, I 
 expressed some wish to see them ; they were brought 
 into our presence, and I put various questions to 
 them, to which they made no reply. Little Alexis, a 
 boy of three years old, repeated what every body was 
 then in possession of. Madeline said, that her brother 
 was but a child, that he ought not to be listened to ; 
 that for herself she had neither seen or heard any 
 thing, and that the murder had not been committed 
 at her father's house. 
 
 Jausion was arrested the ?th of April : as were his 
 wife and her sister the following day. About the 
 middle of this month, you sent in search of me, and 
 I repaired to Perrie, where I informed you that Ban- 
 cal had poisoned himself; the report of it was actu-
 
 27 
 
 ally current in the city. A little time after we as- 
 certained that he was dead. 
 
 I returned to Rodez on the 18th of May. I had 
 often occasion to meet Rose Pierret again, either at 
 Madame Constans's shop, or at that of the Guyons ; 
 where, in passing, I sometimes stopped to en- 
 quire the news. Rose continually brought up the 
 affair of Fualdes; she appeared concerned that the 
 accused were tried at another place than Rodez, and 
 repeated to me, that there were two of them whom 
 they had not taken. Yet all this did not cause me 
 to suspect that she might know more than she had 
 said concerning it. 
 
 " The entire month of June passed without our 
 acquiring any fresh information. You arrived at 
 Olemps on the 29th, and you have not forgotten the 
 important conversation which you held with us some 
 days after ; it was on the subject of the deposition of 
 Bousquier. Some one had told me, that this person, 
 who was included in the accused, had actually de- 
 posed to his belief of having seen Jausion in Ban- 
 cat's kitchen ; and he added, f I know it from an 
 authentic quarter, I have it from one of the judges.' 
 I then observed to my cousin, that I credited the ex- 
 istence of the deposition, but I could not engage to 
 him for its veracity. He either heard me imperfectly, 
 or I expressed myself in an indistinct manner ; this is 
 the case with me occasionally, and serious conse- 
 quences result from it. 
 
 " I shall not speak to you, my dear mamma, of the 
 moment of our separation, which was very melan- 
 choly : you departed, carrying my son with you. In
 
 28 
 
 bidding you adieu, I perceived you shed tears ; which 
 made me presume you were actuated by alarming 
 forebodings. 
 
 " During the summer, I had seen M. Clemendot 
 at church, when he affected to regard me with an 
 attention that was disagreeable. I did not fail to 
 change my place when I found myself near him. 
 One day, as I was at my window, he stopped to sa- 
 lute me : I wore the appearance of not having no- 
 ticed it. There came after a time some comedians to 
 Rodez, and an evil genius which had vowed my de- 
 struction, inspired me with so violent a passion for 
 the theatre, that I could not resist the desire of going 
 there. I took a ticket. 
 
 <( I now feelingly lament this first error, the source 
 
 of so many misfortunes ! but the time is passed. 
 
 M. Clemendot seldom missed the performances : one 
 evening when there were not many people in the first 
 boxes, he saw a vacant place near me, and seated 
 himself in it; he soon entered into conversation, 
 spoke much to me of Sophie Miquel, extolled her 
 beauty, her shape, her elegance, and finished by re- 
 questing me to permit him to offer me his arm to 
 conduct me home again. I thanked him, adding, 
 that having come with the General and his nieces,* 
 I should return back with them : which I did. The 
 General had no lantern : I was in some difficulty to 
 procure myself a light, when we saw a person follow- 
 ing us, who carried one : I begged him to let me 
 have the use of it, and recognized M. Clemendot, 
 
 * M. the Major-General Viala.
 
 29 
 
 who had designedly followed us, for the Rue de 
 Touat is not the way to pass from the theatre to the 
 Jiouse of Bousquet Chaudon, where I have since learnt 
 he lodged. The General lighted the wax-taper which 
 I had in my ridicule, and took leave of me, as did 
 also his nieces and M. Clemendot. The next day I 
 thought no more of all this, when Edward arrived, 
 who gave me accounts of you and my son; I had 
 great pleasure in seeing him; we conversed a long 
 time. When he left me he promised to return in 
 less than an hour, to conduct me to the promenade; 
 I waited for him more than three. I had little doubt 
 where he was gone ; I conceived that the society of 
 an amiable woman would make the time appear very 
 short, and that in such cases there is an excuse for 
 forgetting a sister. I, therefore, repaired to Rose 
 Pierret's. Edward was not there ; I wished'to return 
 from thence, Rose detained me, and with a mysteri- 
 ous air, said, * If you wish to see your brother, stay 
 
 here.' c But you have spoken with him then?' 
 
 She made me no answer. I pretended to be dis- 
 pleased, and she then admitted that Edward had cer- 
 tainly passed some time at her house, and that he 
 was to return at eight o'clock to take her a walk to 
 Foral, where I should also go, he said. 
 
 " I told Miss Pierret that I would return home to 
 fetch my shawl, and that I would leave word for my 
 brother at the Hotel des Princes, that I should wait 
 for him at her house. Rose said I was right, and 
 proposed our partaking of some sweetmeats, on our 
 return from walking. I went out, and did not delay 
 returning. Edward followed me very shortly : we
 
 30 
 
 set out j it was beautiful weather, and the walks were 
 soon filled with company. My brother, as usual, 
 made observations which afforded us much diversion : 
 we walked for about an hour, we several times crossed 
 by eight or ten persons whom we were unacquainted 
 with, when one of this group, detached himself from 
 it, and advancing towards us, saluted my brother, 
 addressing him by his name. ' Ah ! Clemendot, is 
 it you ?' said Edward, f and pray who were you 
 with ?' He answered, that he was walking with the 
 ladies Moze, Rafenaud, and others : that he thought 
 he recognized us, and wished to assure himself of it. 
 ' But Enjalran,' said he, addressing himself to my 
 brother, * you cannot give both arms, allow me to 
 offer mine to your sister.' Edward released my arm ; 
 and as I was in a disposition to be gay, I accepted 
 that of M. Clemendot. 
 
 " After some turns in the walks, Edward asked him 
 if he should soon depart. ' The day after to-mor- 
 row,' said he, I have a hundred visits to make, 
 what a bore ! I shall come and take leave of you, 
 Madam,' he said to me, in a very low voice. 
 * Surely,' I replied, f you are inclined to pleasan- 
 try ? I yesterday spoke to you for the first time ; 
 and then I receive nobody.' c I think you are too 
 
 polite to deny me admittance.' ' Do not trust to 
 
 it.' c I will make the attempt,' added he, 
 
 ' Indeed,' I then told him, you will be losing your 
 time.' Edward, as well as his companion, walked 
 very fast. I perceived that M. Clemendot moved 
 very gently along. I taxed him with it; he excused 
 himself on the ground of having corns, which he said
 
 31 
 
 gave him great uneasiness. ' In this case you did 
 wrong to hook yourself upon us, who are travelling 
 post.' He testified his regret at not having been 
 sooner able to make so charming an acquaintance as 
 that of Madam Manson, whose wit and elegance 
 were extolled by every one. ' Add also her beauty,' 
 said I, breaking out into a laugh, ' in order that no- 
 thing may be wanting to the portrait.' I kept 
 speaking to him constantly in a tone of pleasantry; 
 obliging him, however, to double his pace, in order 
 to overtake Rose and my brother, who on their part 
 were entertaining each other very gaily. 
 
 <e It was late ; I proposed our retiring, which was 
 agreed to. On entering the town, Edward said that 
 he was dying with thirst, and had a great mind to 
 go and drink a glass of beer. t Come into the 
 house,' said Miss Pierret to us, ' we shall find some 
 very good ; and then,' said she, turning round to 
 me, ' your sister has made an engagement to taste 
 my sweetmeats.' I felt more under the influence of 
 sleep than of hunger. I suffered myself nevertheless 
 to be carried along, and we went up to Rose's, who 
 set some excellent current jelly before us, which had 
 not the effect of giving me a pain in my stomach, 
 because I eat of it through complaisance. It was not 
 the same case with the aid-de-camp, who helped him- 
 self to large platefulls, and swallowed down immense 
 spoonfulls without any bread : any body else would 
 have burst from it, but unhappily for me it did not 
 gorge him. w ^ e 
 
 " Edward, who is always full of jests, had on this 
 evening a more than ordinary dose of mirth ; he made
 
 me laugh so much at the expense of poor Clemendot, 
 that it ended with my seriously fearing that he might 
 perceive it, and be displeased at it; but, nothing of 
 the kind; instead of it, he commenced singing. 
 He said to us every now and then, lisping: < are we 
 for a turn to Foral ?' e Ah, and the corns,', said I, 
 Edward did not hear him, and thought no more of 
 retiring. ' Let us take a turn to Foral,' said M. 
 Clemendot again. He repeated this for the twentieth 
 time, when Edward, after having reflected a moment, 
 said to us, ' ladies, the weather is beautiful, I will 
 look for a carriage : let us go and breakfast at Espa- 
 Jion, we shall eat some delicious trout.' I asked my 
 brother if he had lost his wits, and if he had forgot 
 that it would take five hours to reach Espalion 
 from Rodez. c It matters not,' said he, c we shall 
 be back here in good time to-morrow.' Rose, from 
 apprehension of her father, who was to arrive in the 
 morning, did not coincide with Edward. After a vi- 
 gorous resistance, he was obliged to capitulate. My 
 brother proposed to us to go only to the barracks at 
 Flavin, assuring us that we should be back again before 
 seven o'clock, and that M. Pierret would not then be 
 in town. Sleep had entirely passed from me; I joined 
 with Edward, in order to decide Rose, promising her, 
 that if her father became acquainted withjhe adven- 
 ture, I would take every thing on myself. 
 
 " M. Clemendot made no observation : he appeared 
 neither disconcerted, or pleased with our arrange- 
 ments : he followed us however to Saint Pierre's, 
 where we went to order a carriage. 
 
 " Your son, who gave the orders in his character of
 
 33 
 
 adjutant-major,* was instantly obeyed. We set off 
 a little before day-break j it began to appear as we 
 passed la Mouline. Rose was no sooner in the car- 
 riage, than despair took possession of her. I thought 
 she waa going to jump over the boot: she had the 
 air of a victim who is going to be sacrificed, but she 
 had to deal with pitiless ravishers. Far from being 
 touched by her grief, they only answered it with 
 peals of laughter. Edward was so full of drollery, 
 that Rose forgetting Rodez, her father, and all her 
 alarms, concluded by laughing as heartily as the rest 
 of us. 
 
 " Our conductor drove us,at a great rate: we arriv- 
 ed at Flavin at half past four. Edward had thought 
 of eating part of a goose ; he had reckoned without 
 his host : it was Saturday ; and M. Blanc does not 
 think that a man who has had his feet frozen, should 
 on that account be released from observing the 
 sixth commandment of the church. They gave us 
 eggs, salad, and cheese. As we had not slept, we 
 called for coffee, which I believe was boiled in the 
 frying-pan. They rummaged out an old bit of sugar, 
 the colour of yellow wax, which the officers con- 
 tended for. In vain they called for liqueurs; the 
 host, never losing sight of prudence, told us that he 
 kept none because of the rats.f 
 
 " At last, after being very indifferently regaled, we 
 remounted the carriage, to the great satisfaction of 
 Rose, who was in constant dread of finding her 
 father at his house. 
 
 * He has filled thig port in the old guard, 
 f Of the cellar apparently. 
 D
 
 34 
 
 " Edward entertained us during the journey with 
 his adventures in the towns where he had passed. M. 
 Clemendot, who wished to put on the air of the favo- 
 rite of the fair, imparted to us his successes with the 
 .ladies of Rodez, whose favors he had obtained, in 
 order cruelly to abandon them. He instances Madam 
 such-a-one, whose favors he had despised ; another, 
 who was disconcerted the moment he appeared : he 
 compelled that one to cast down her eyes in his pre- 
 sence ; the husband of this had surprised them ; and 
 as the Marquis in Marmontel's tales would say, ' at 
 a critical moment.' e Oh !' repeated he, e I have 
 done speaking of myself; ill betide the woman ; 
 when I wish to have her!' ' Hold,' said Edward, 
 c he \vould persuade us, if we had not seen him. A 
 pretty young fellow to turn the heads of the belles ! 
 Only look at him, ladies.' 
 
 " You must know, my dear mother, that M. Cle- 
 mendot is extremely ugly ; but it is requisite I should 
 give you his portrait. In the first place, he is what 
 we call in our country, beffi ;* he has an enormous 
 mouth, a most wicked nose, squinting eyes, a sallow 
 complexion, a bald head, and he speaks through his 
 nose. Now let us come to his stature, which is very 
 little higher than mine ; I avail myself of a compa- 
 rison of Edward's, in speaking of his slender limbs, 
 and I find that those of M. Clemendot are not badly 
 likened to two barrels of a fusee; add to this the very 
 extreme of short inexpressibles, and black stockings : 
 but of what consequence is his person, if the mind 
 
 * Having the lower jaw very protuberant.
 
 35 
 
 Was \vorth any thing ? Here, my dear mamma, is a 
 faint sketch of the person, who is called M. Clemen- 
 dot ; to whom, according to the world, I have made 
 the most important discoveries j to whom I have con- 
 fided a secret, which I was unwilling to reveal to 
 justice, in spite of the inquisitorial measures which 
 they have employed for that purpose for the last four 
 months. 
 
 " We arrived at Rodez early : these gentlemen left 
 us at the lower end of the side of the Cordeliers , I 
 accompanied Rose as far as her father's house, who 
 was not as yet arrived, and who has not arrived to 
 this day : he sent to her to come and join him in the 
 country. Regaining my own house, I threw myself 
 on my bed, where I slept for some hours. They 
 made no doubt in the family that I had passed the 
 night abroad. About two, Edward entered, and told 
 me that he was going to Saint Pierre's with M. Cle- 
 mendot. ' Harkee,' added my brother, * I shall 
 not depart till towards evening ; I wish to go to 
 Hose's, to take leave of her 5 you will be there J 
 Wish it much.' We placed ourselves for an instant 
 at the window ; Edward said to me, * I must go 
 away : I'll take a bet that Clemendot is in search of 
 me : stay,' said he, * look ai him passing along 
 the street.' I observed that he was very gaily 
 dressed ; he had a very fine frill, silk breeches, gold 
 buckles : but after all it was the same figure. 
 
 *' My brother called to him ; and on entering he 
 took full possession of a chair, before I had a thought 
 of offering him one. Edward told him, that he did 
 not .care about taking repose : that he must go to 
 
 D 2
 
 36 
 
 Saint Pierre's. ' Well,' said M. Clemendot, ' you 
 may very well go there without me : I am tired ; it is 
 so extremely hot; I can do no more.' As I saw 
 that he sought a pretext for remaining alone with 
 me, I said, f I am going out, and give my company 
 to no one.' This manner of explaining myself was 
 understood by M. Clemendot, who required no more 
 entreaties to accompany Edward. 
 
 " I went a little after to Rose's : she had made her- 
 self in readiness to go into the country. After a 
 short interval, Edward dropt in ; the everlasting Cle- 
 mendot was with him : they came up stairs together; 
 but my brother, who grew tired of his company, said 
 to him, * go about your business; you carry matters 
 too far.' The seriousness of this apostrophe discon- 
 certed the poor aid-de-camp, who thought fit to 
 retire. 
 
 " In the evening my brother told us that he was 
 going to seek for his horse. An instant afterwards I 
 placed myself at the window, and I saw a man whom 
 they were conducting to execution. ' How can you 
 remain there ?' said Rose to me. ' Oh ! very well/ 
 I replied. ' Must one pity him so much ? It is 
 doubtless a murderer. See, he has on a red gown. I 
 should see the murderers of the unfortunate Fualdes 
 pass by thus, with equal composure.' 
 
 "There was a great crowd before the Cordeliers to 
 see Jausion, who was on this day examined. Edward 
 came to tell us, that he had seen him in the street, 
 and that Jausion was very pale. I should fear to 
 see him,' said Rose, ' he gives me strange inquie- 
 tude : I am sorry for him : I would not wish to be at
 
 37 
 
 Rodez if he was executed.' I am at this moment 
 persuaded, that if Miss Pierret was present at the 
 murder, she owes her life to Jausion - 3 or rather, not 
 having seen him, she regrets his being accused. I 
 am well disposed to believe, that the gentleman of 
 middle height, whom Bousquier has taken for Jausion, 
 was another person. We saw Edward again, who 
 wished us good evening, without dismounting from 
 his horse : he had again seen M. Clemendot ; they 
 had embraced, and taken leave of each other for a 
 length of time, because the aid-de-camp was to depart 
 with his general on the evening of the following day, 
 for a very remote department. I remained still for 
 some time at Miss Pierret's : she had a small white 
 veil, such as that which I worked at the expense of 
 the point of my needle. f Ah ! Ah ! exclaimed I, you 
 adopt my fashions.' She did not say any thing par- 
 ticular in answer to me, and passed into the room, 
 where her chest of drawers was open. There was in 
 it a large black veil, such as the Spanish women wear. 
 I put it on my head. ' It is very pretty,' said I to 
 Rose, where have you bought it?' ' At Paris.' 
 ' Have you been to Paris ? It must have cost you a 
 good deal of money,'* Ah ! indeed, a good deal/ 
 She snatched the veil with some haste : threw it into 
 the drawers, and shut them. Her manner surprised 
 me. I was then ignorant that there had been a female 
 veiled at Bancal's house, on the 19th of March. I 
 could not then entertain a suspicion respecting Rose : 
 but it is true that her air of embarrassment, in speaking 
 to me of her veil, surprized me at the moment. I left 
 Miss Pierret at 6 o'clock, and saw her again no more
 
 38 
 
 till in the sitting of the 8th of September, at the 
 court of judicature. Having returned home, I supped 
 and was desirous to retire to bed early, when I heard 
 a gentle knock at my door, and perceived M. Cle- 
 mendot enter. It was late. I requested him to retire : 
 he told me that he was in no hurry. On no account 
 in the, world should I have wished my hostess to see a 
 man in my apartment at the approach of night. She 
 might come in every instant. After having reflected, 
 I resolved on going out of my room, and leaving M. 
 Clemendot alone. That was fortunate : in about an 
 hour I returned. I searched into every corner, and 
 after being assured that nobody was there, I doubly 
 turned the lock, and went to bed. 
 
 " Next day, as I returned from mass, one of my 
 female neighbours said to me : ' You have had a 
 visit from the General's aid-de-camp this morning.' 
 'Me?' said I, ' how! I conversed with him for 
 the first time, at the play, last Thursday !' * It does 
 not signify,' she replied, ' if he was not going away, 
 he would lay himself out to pay court to you, and to 
 bring your honour in question : you would not be the 
 first woman made notorious by him.' I assured her 
 that this man occasioned me no apprehension. 
 
 " In the afternoon I heard the sound of boots in 
 the corridor which leads to my room, and somebody 
 rapped twice in the space of half an hour. I dressed 
 myself, and did not deem it proper to make any an- 
 swer. Some time after I called Madame Lacombe,* 
 and requested her to go to Madame Constans's, and 
 
 * Her hostess.
 
 39 
 
 buy me a sash. I forgot to shut my door inside: I 
 heard a knock again. I sprung up to turn the key, 
 but I had not time to do it, and the man zvho is not 
 a Sir Charles Grandison, abruptly entered. I was, 
 however, on the threshold of the door : my head be- 
 came giddy at the idea, that my hostess was about to 
 return, and that she would find me. I had so terri- 
 fied an appearance, and made such earnest intreaties 
 to him, that he consented to withdraw. 
 
 " Madame Lacombe was not long in returning. 
 She told me that an officer had come, about an hour 
 ago, who had asked her for Madame Manson, and 
 that she told him I was gone out ' I believe,' added 
 Madame Lacombe, ' that it is your brother: he 
 stopped for a moment at the door, bit his nails, and 
 then went away.' * My brother,' said I, ' departed 
 yesterday. If the gentleman, you speak of, returns, 
 tell him I am not here: with the exception of my 
 father, I wish to see no one.' 
 
 " I went to the play with the ladies Miquel. They 
 played Joconde, or les Coureurs cTAventures. I was 
 very attentive to the music of this opera, which is 
 pretty, when, between the acts, my eyes glanced 
 towards the pit. I perceived M. Clemendot, who 
 disappeared almost immediately. The curtain which 
 drew up at this moment presented to my view new 
 objects, which made me forget this singular appari- 
 tion. At the end of the last piece, I heard a noise 
 behind me; I turned round, and I again saw M. Cle- 
 mendot, who made a sign of vengeance to me, and 
 went out. 
 
 " I paid little attention to his menaces, and retired
 
 40 
 
 rery placidly to my house. In about a quarter of an 
 hour I went into the corridor to look for some water, 
 when I opened my door, I was nearly falling back- 
 wards on perceiving M. Clemendot, who came into 
 my room, compelled me to enter it with him, and 
 locked the door. I should have called up the house, 
 but my adversary was little to be dreaded, and then 
 was I to make a ridiculous eclat in Rodez, where 
 so little is requisite to render oneself a subject of com- 
 mon talk ? (Alas! I divined it much better in the 
 sequel. None can avoid their destiny.) 
 
 " It is from this horrible night, that my misfortune 
 may be dated. What were all the vexations which I 
 have endured during life, compared to those which, 
 for the last five months have overwhelmed me ? what 
 
 r tears have I shed ! Oh ! my father, my mother, 
 
 my brothers, my son ! dear and sacred ties which 
 alone attach me to life, without you, without a resi- 
 due of religion, I should have freed myself from this 
 
 painful existence. In the other world, they will 
 
 no more speak to me of the trial respecting M. 
 Fualdes. 
 
 " There had been a great supper at General de 
 Wautre's; M. Clemendot was at it, and played a 
 very good part, as he is accustomed to do. He could 
 not support himself, and tottered at every step. He 
 approached me, and endeavoured to embrace me ; I 
 pushed him back to the other extremity of the cham- 
 ber. I persuaded him to retire, he told me that I 
 lost my time, that he should not go away till three 
 o'clock, the moment when the General would set off; 
 he added that he felt a desire to sleep. In truth he
 
 41 
 
 yawned exceedingly, and fell asleep, or made a show 
 of sleeping. During this time I reflected on my si- 
 tuation, which was a very singular one; not, as I 
 have said, that I was afraid of M. Clemendot ; for it 
 is pretended that in departing from Rodez he carried 
 with him bitter recollections; he passed for a debau- 
 chee, a drunkard, and for being loaded with debts. 
 I had learnt this in the morning : and they even 
 added that his creditors wished before his departure, 
 to give him a good acquittance on his shoulders. 
 When the aid-de-camp had slept half an hour, I again 
 entreated him to retire. He told me that he knew 
 something extremely interesting, and that he would 
 confide it to me. f You must know that the report 
 in the town is, that there was a female at Bancal's 
 house, during the murder: some say 'tis Miss Avit.* 
 I interrupted him, in order to declare that I did not 
 believe Miss Avit capable of being in so bad a place, 
 and that besides, they would not have suffered a wit- 
 ness of the murder, who might have been able to 
 publish the authors of it. ' Many persons have 
 maintained,' said he, ' that you had given some one 
 a rendezvous there.' ' Ah ! I shall not fail finding 
 myself implicated in the affair of M. Fualdes.' - 
 ' They add,' said M. Clemendot, once more, ' that 
 at the time you were in the house, the woman Ban- 
 cal, hearing people approaching, concealed you in a 
 place where you could see and hear every thing/ 
 
 " I fixed an earnest look upon him: he continued, 
 * It was indeed you ! Come, confess that it was 
 you.' * Oh ! assuredly,' said I, it was myself.' 
 ' 111 starred woman. How interesting this renders
 
 you in my eyes ; it is said that Bastide wished to kill 
 you, and that Jausion saved your life. If you were 
 aware of the interest which I have in this affair ! if 
 you were aware of it ! if you could comprehend all 
 the interest which I have in this affair!' 
 
 " I made no doubt that he was either out of his 
 wjts, or at the least drunk. The sleep which he had 
 on entering, confirmed me in this idea : he spoke very 
 loud. I begged him to lower his voice; he then be- 
 took himself to singing. I gave him some chocolate 
 to make him silent, and at last persuaded him to go 
 away. 
 
 " I carefully closed the gate at the entry, which 
 sometimes remained open on account of the different 
 lodgers ; and, besides, was so badly closed, that in 
 pushing it it flew open when the bolt was not made 
 fast. It is by the knowledge of this circumstance, 
 that I have accounted for the sudden apparition of 
 M. Clemendot in the corridor ; he had taken care to 
 be followed by one of his friends, whom he told, that 
 he came to my house at midnight. This young man 
 doubtless saw him enter the house in which I lived, 
 at this hour : he was subpcened to depose to this fact; 
 but he has not appeared at the trial, thanks to the 
 President, who has not thought that it could serve to 
 the unfolding the affair of M. Fualdes. 
 
 " Tuesday, the 29th of July, about seven o'clock 
 in the evening, a bailiff arrived and handed me a sum- 
 mons. ' You are under a mistake,' I told him, e I 
 have no suit at law with any person/ ' It is for that 
 of^M. Fualdes.' f Still more out of the way; what 
 relation have I with M. Fualdes ? I know nothing
 
 43 
 
 about it;' the bailiff answered, ' give yourself the 
 trouble to come to the court, M. Constant will ex- 
 plain it to you.' I regretted it extremely ; but he in- 
 sisted on it. I was introduced into a hall, where I 
 saw M. Constant, the judge, whom I did not know, 
 and who received me with much politeness. 
 
 " After the customary preamble, he caused me to 
 be sworn. I trembled a little; it was my first oath, 
 and it is not a trifling thing. At least I have not to 
 reproach myself with being perjured. I have NEVER, 
 asserted before the court, that I was in Bancal's 
 house the 19th of March : my compliance will never 
 carry me to this point. 
 
 " They asked me what I knew of the murder of M. 
 Fualdes : I answered with confidence, that I abso- 
 lutely knew nothing. c See,' said M. Constant, ad- 
 dressing me, f what rumours are raised; the report 
 is current that you were at Bancal's house.' ' And 
 who has asserted this ?' { Oh !' replied he, ' 'tis the 
 rumour of the town.' 
 
 " My interrogation was very short. I had no- 
 thing to depose. I had still time to go and take a 
 short walk with the sisters of Madam Gourdon, one 
 of whom had lately married M. Boyer. We were at 
 the play together ; a minute after I saw the ladies 
 Miquel and their uncle enter; they seated themselves 
 almost without saluting me. I was astonished at this 
 caprice, and had no doubt some underhand turn,* 
 had been done me with them, a common thing at 
 Rodez. But it was a surprise of an entirely different 
 
 * A story at my expense.
 
 44 
 
 character, when I perceived that the looks of all were 
 fixed? upon me, and that I was the object of general 
 curiosity. Though I examined myself carefully, 
 there was nothing ridiculous in my dress : they were 
 in the habit of seeing me at the play. Suddenly I 
 recollected my assignation, this was a flash of light. 
 Oh ! said I, in our great town very little is neces- 
 sary to eke out matter for conversation. I turned 
 towards M. Lacalmontie, who was behind me, and 
 asked him, e on what authority it was spread through 
 the town, that I was at Bancal's on the 19th of 
 March.' e I know nothing about it,' he replied. I 
 still put some questions to him, I urged him. The 
 General, who was by his side, losing his patience, 
 told me in a very animated tone : ' Madame, you 
 have placed your secret in bad hands, it is now pub- 
 lic. M. Clemendot is an indiscreet person; you 
 should have chosen a better confidant.' I looked at 
 him with an air of consternation. With difficulty I 
 had power to say a few words in my justification : 
 but this was neither the place nor the moment for it. 
 The curtain rose. I was shrunk into nothing: I 
 should have preferred reciting the rosary, or even the 
 longest office in the breviary, to being present at this 
 opera, and I would have given all the world to have 
 had the power of withdrawing without being perceiv- 
 ed: but there were no means of doing so; and I was 
 obliged to remain under the fixed gaze of every eye. 
 
 " This was only a prelude to the punishment that 
 awaited me : M. Clemendot entered : I believed he 
 had taken his departure : not a bit of it : it was in- 
 deed his intention, after having made his deposition :
 
 45 
 
 but he was detained, and I had to undergo the confu- 
 sion of being saluted by him, and of having him nearly 
 close at my side during a part of the first piece. I con- 
 stantly turned away, in order to avoid seeing him, 
 which doubtless influenced him afterwards, to go and 
 place himself in a box facing me ; and without turn- 
 ing my back on the actors, I was condemned to see 
 this odious figure, constantly directed towards me. 
 
 " Never had a spectacle appeared so long to me. 
 I made a vow, that I would never from that moment 
 appear there during my life, and I will assuredly 
 keep my engagement. When I went out, M. Cle- 
 mendot had the audacity to approach and offer me 
 his arm. My face was all on fire, I was ripe for giv- 
 ing way to my anger, and displaying a scene which 
 would, perhaps, have been better for me; for they 
 have reproached me with having observed too much 
 respect towards this monster. 
 
 . " M. Boyer, his wife and sister-in-law, re-conduct- 
 ed me home : for this time, I did not forget drawing 
 the bolt at the gate, and also doubly locking my own 
 door. J approached the window, which was open ; 
 in the street I perceived a sort of shadow, which 
 said to me, ' Give me admittance.' I precipitately 
 closed the window and the shutters ; I lay down, but 
 could not close my eyes. From this day I have been 
 afflicted with fever ; and believe it will quit me no 
 more. 
 
 " During the night, I had time for reflection; in 
 the morning I arose, very melancholy and much ex- 
 hausted. It was not yet eight o'clock, when I heard
 
 46 
 
 ft rap at my door: it was a fresh summons to repair 
 forthwith to the court. I went there, and found at it 
 the king's solicitor, M. Constant, and M. Clemen* 
 dot, with whom they wished to confront me : on see- 
 ing me he was disconcerted, and made several fruit- 
 less efforts to assume an air of composure. For 
 myself, I was almost suffocated with anger: but, 
 well persuaded that passion would avail me nothing, 
 I restrained myself, and put on a tranquil appearance. 
 How often have I been upbraided on this account ! 
 It was necessary to insult the aid-de-camp, and snatch 
 from his pate the few hairs that were left on it ; I 
 should then have clearly proved that he was an im- 
 postor. Bancal struck Bousquier with her fist, at the 
 sitting of the 13th of September : she would have 
 beat him soundly, if they had not put her in irons : is 
 the world less persuaded on that account, that the 
 murder had not been committed at her house ? 
 
 " M. Clemendot affirmed, that I had assured him 
 I was at Bancal's house on the 19th March ; I 
 affirmed the contrary ; I confined myself to telling 
 him that stories sometimes cost dear, and that he had 
 better be on his guard. We went out together; M. 
 Avit, the registrar, offered to accompany me, which I 
 accepted. M. Clemendot wished to follow us; I de- 
 clared to him, in so resolute a tone of voice, that I 
 should rather prefer being shut up in one of the dun- 
 geons of the Cordeliers, to entering the town in his 
 company, that he troubled me no more, and quit- 
 ted us. 
 
 " Scarcely had I regained my room, when M. Ju-
 
 Hen* entered it. ' I come,' said he, e on the part 
 of your father, who desires that you may have an 
 interview with the Prefect.' ' Really,' I replied, * I am 
 unacquainted with M. d'Estourmel : what would they 
 have nae say to him ? I know nothing concerning the 
 business of M. Fualdes. If it is on this account that I 
 am demanded, it is very useless that I should go and 
 weary the Prefect.' * Be easy,' said M. Julien : * in a 
 couple of hours I will come and take you ; I will my- 
 self conduct you to the prefecture: your father is 
 very much inclined that you should go there.' 
 
 " I made no reply : M. Julien begging me to dress 
 myself, left me; such was my design. I had never 
 in my life spoken to the Prefect ; I bestowed great 
 trouble on my toilet, in order to appear before our 
 man, though he did not, I rather think, pay much 
 attention to it. I did M. Destourmel an injury, in 
 assimilating him with M. de Termont, relative to 
 etiquette, to which the latter, it is said, greatly ad- 
 hered. The Prefect has since seen me very often in a 
 morning dress, and in a careless undress, and has cer- 
 tainly taken no exception on this account. M. Julien 
 returned at ten o'clock; I was ready, but he told me, 
 we had time for a little conversation. My father had 
 charged him to tell me, that if I was at Bancal's 
 house, in spite of the shame that would attach to mak- 
 ing such an avowal, I ow%d it to justice to do so. 
 That he would pardon me; that he would make me no 
 reproaches, provided I admitted every thing. I pro- 
 tested to M. Julien, that I had slept at home the 19th 
 
 * One of the judges of the civil court of judicature at Rodez, an 
 ancient colleague and friend of M. Enjalran.
 
 48 
 
 March, and that I had not gone out all the evening. 
 J offered to have all Pal's family cited to support my 
 assertion. He told me, that in a town, one found 
 difficulty in proving an alibi: that besides, there was 
 no question as to that matter : that it was proved, 
 that I was at Bancal's ; that they had informations 
 thereupon : in short, that the woman Bancal was ex- 
 ecuted, and that, if in her last testament she had 
 lately declared, that I was at her house at the time of 
 the murder, there could be no doubt that I should be 
 proceeded against as an accomplice, on my denial. 
 
 " Whatever I could do, I was unable to persuade 
 M. Julien; he accompanied me to the Prefecture, 
 and after the first compliments, he left me alone with 
 the Prefect, who, of all the men that I have ever seen 
 in my life, is the one who has impressed me with the 
 most awe. I find myself timid in his presence, after 
 having seen him at least sixty times; judge from this 
 what I must have felt at the first interview ! M. d'Es- 
 tourmel received me with that grace, and that polite- 
 ness, which characterize him : he employed the 
 greatest gentleness to make me acknowledge that I 
 was at Bancal's house : he assured me, that M. CJe- 
 mendot had, in his deposition, spoken of me in the 
 most respectful terms; that he was far from having 
 held the language of which he was publicly accused ; 
 that, if I would admit the facts stated in this deposi- 
 tion, they would allow him to depart ; that he de- 
 manded nothing so earnestly as to go and rejoin his 
 General. c But,' said I to the Prefect, * I have been 
 told, that M. Clemendot had deposed, that I had 
 mentioned Bastide and Jausion to him, whilst their
 
 49 
 
 names never escaped from my mouth : that alone, is 
 carrying these gentlemen to the scaffold ; five wit- 
 nesses are to appear on the trial in support of M. 
 Clemendot having declared this fact to them in a 
 coffee-house; I have it from one of them, who has 
 clearly understood him : and after all this, no doubt 
 is entertained of my having been actually present at 
 the murder; ofBastide having been desirous to cut 
 my throat; and of Jausion having saved my life. 
 
 " The Prefect again assured me, that M. Clemen - 
 dot had not mentioned all this story ; he returned to 
 entreaties that I would make a confession to him : he 
 told me, that he had certain informations by him, 
 which did not permit him to entertain the smallest 
 doubt that I was acquainted with every thing ; 
 that it would be infinitely more advisable to admit 
 it; that it was impossible that a brave officer of the 
 strictest honor, had invented all this fabulous tale ; 
 that I must lay my account to a serious affair be- 
 tween one of my brothers and him ; that, on the 
 other side, my father was about bringing an action 
 against him for calumny, and commencing a suit 
 which would be the ruin of our family. 
 
 " From the commencement I had foreseen one of 
 these misfortunes, since I hastened writing to Gusta- 
 vus to prevent Edward's coming to Rodez. I also 
 demanded my son of him, not doubting that they 
 might threaten to deprive me of him for ever, if I did 
 not make a confession. The sequel has clearly 
 proved that my fears were well founded. 
 
 " In my first interview with the Prefect, I conti- 
 nued very firm in supporting the truth: notwith- 
 
 E
 
 50 
 
 standing, when I had returned home, and reflected 
 on all the disasters which my denial brought with it, 
 I imagined, ' Let me sacrifice myself: the testimony 
 of my conscience will suffice ; all the world will be- 
 lieve that I was in an infamous house; I alone shall 
 know to the contrary ; and, dishonoured in the eyes 
 of an unjust public, my own esteem will at least be 
 left me.' 
 
 " Here, my dear mother, is the reasoning which I 
 adopted ; it is false, since you have found it so ; but 
 you were far from mej I had no time to consult 
 you. 
 
 " My resolution being taken, I sent to entreat M. 
 Julien would come over to me. He came instantly. 
 I told him, that if he had an engagement from my 
 father not to reproach me with my conduct, to enter 
 into securities to pay my allowance punctually j and, 
 above all, not to compel me to live at Perrie, (it was 
 simple enough that a mother and brothers might in- 
 stitute any vexatious proceedings for a miserable 
 prostitute), I promised to state every thing to the 
 Prefect. M. Julien assured me, he had no doubt of 
 my father's acquiescence in all my demands; but 
 that not having a legal authority from him for treat- 
 ing with me, he would go and assure himself how 
 he stood disposed towards me : that while I waited 
 for him, I could write to the Prefect, to demand of 
 him another audience. 
 
 " He left me, saying he would soon return. I 
 wrote the letter, No. II. inserted in the information,* 
 
 * The reader will feel obliged to us for placing these different 
 papers before him. 
 
 No. II
 
 51 
 
 to the Prefect. I had not finished, when M. Julien 
 returned to tell me that my father accepted all my 
 conditions. I' sent my letter to the Prefecture. The 
 Prefect returned answer that he was always ready to 
 
 No. 1L 
 Sir, 
 
 " I think I have discovered that you took a very lively interest in 
 M. Clemendot: this consideration, joined to the fear of occasioning 
 the spilling of blood, compels me to unveil to you this day a mys- 
 tery impenetrable to all the world. Yesterday it was impossible I 
 could do it ; I was in a state which can bear no comparison : in vain 
 have I wished to conceal it from you : you have seen how heavily I 
 was oppressed. I will state the truth to you, Sir ; but will you 
 deign to believe it ? May I rely upon secrecy ? This is most diffi- 
 cult : is not my deposition in the hands of the Judges ? Have I 
 not signed it ? What will be my fate ? I know it not ; but the 
 life of my brothers shall be no longer in danger : my father shall 
 have no apprehensions of the loss of his fortune : in short, it is ne- 
 cessary to restore the honour of a brave officer ; what matters it that 
 that of a woman should be compromised ? All the blame will fall 
 heavy upon me : I am prepared for every event. What can befall 
 me ? Am I not created for misfortune, and has not the measure of 
 it for a long time past been completed ? 
 
 " M. Clemendot desires to have an interview with me : I consent 
 to it; but permit it to be in your presence, and that I may dis- 
 course with you without witnesses. May Heaven grant me the 
 power of speaking! Can you believe me ? I do not expect it ; but 
 at least I will occasion no person's death. My life alone is perhaps 
 in danger. Deign, Sir, to communicate to me the hour at which I 
 may obtain audience. I venture to hope that my letter will only be 
 known by yourself: excuse the disorder of it, and be pleased to 
 accept the assurances of my respect and of my homage. It is with 
 these sentiments that I have the honour to be, 
 
 " Sir, 
 " Your very humble and most obedient servant, 
 
 " E. MANSON."
 
 give me audience, and that ray hour should be his 
 that the sooner the better : these are his own expres- 
 sions : I have his letter. 
 
 " As it was late, I resolved to wait till the next 
 day, and I was for an instant at Pal's shop, whose 
 house I had unfortunately quitted a month since. I 
 say unfortunately, because, if I had not changed my 
 lodging, I should not have been at the play, and I 
 should never have had the fatal honour of an ac- 
 quaintance with M. Clemendot. All the family at 
 Pal's were at that time so convinced that I had not 
 gone out, on the 19th of March, that they would 
 have sworn to it. Rosalie* called to my mind a dis- 
 course which I had held with her the next day. I 
 said to her: My God, we have been singing all the 
 evening like silly people : perhaps during the very time 
 they were killing this unfortunate man. This peculiar 
 circumstance had entirely escaped my memory: 
 Rosalie brought it to my recollection : the Pals be- 
 lieved, and assuredly do even to this hour believe, 
 that I was at home on the 1 9th j but they would be 
 yet more determined against attesting it in a court of 
 justice, from fear of compromising themselves, and 
 lest the world might say, that they took me by the 
 hand. 
 
 " Besides, they are not the only persons who are 
 alarmed ; there are plenty more of them. The affair 
 of M. Fualdes has struck every body with horror : 
 people in office are not without inquietude : and such 
 as could bear witness in my favour avoid me, from a 
 fear of committing themselves. And I, I am in the 
 
 ."* * M. Pal's youngest daughter.
 
 53 
 
 prison of the Capucins, and am under no alarm : 
 I am kept in close privacy, behind an iron grating, 
 three doors separate me from every other human 
 being, and I am under no alarm : I am accused of 
 being an accomplice in the most horrible of murders, 
 and I am under no alarm : no, once again, I am 
 under no alarm. 
 
 " Do not talk to me of weak people ; they are more 
 dangerous than wicked ones. One is not upon one's 
 guard with them. What evils are in reserve for a 
 state governed by a sovereign who is without energy! 
 A weak king is ordinarily the precursor of a tyrant : 
 we have seen it in ou>r own time : Louis 1 6th pre- 
 pared the Revolution, by which Napoleon profited. 
 
 " What a digression \ Perhaps not so great as it 
 appears to youj for if the affair of M. Fualdes has 
 been a bloody tragedy, the preceding reign was one 
 of a kind of which it would be difficult to enumerate 
 all the acts. But I forgot that the pronouncing a 
 certain name is a most especial crime in the eyes of 
 my rigid jailer, and of his rigid partner, always under 
 the dread of committing themselves and of losing their 
 places. As for me, I entertain no fear of losing mine. 
 If I was with my dear mamma, and my little Allah, it 
 would be different.* 
 
 " I no more recollect where I am. I was mention- 
 
 * " I one day asked Madame Manson why she called her son 
 Edward, Allah ? " It is," said she, " the name he gave himself when, 
 he commenced lisping out his little words, and was unable to ex- 
 press himself better. I have adopted it, and sometimes call him 
 by it. They say that this word signifies God amongst the Turks j 
 this dear little creature is my God/
 
 54 
 
 ing to you, I think, my visit to Pal's : I was well satis- 
 fied with them, and made no doubt that they would 
 afford me their testimony whenever I required it : I 
 left them under this impression. The following day 
 I repaired to the Prefecture : I found M. Clemendot 
 there: I expected it. My resolution was taken; I 
 said to M. Clemendot, ' Since it is necessary to re- 
 store the honour of a brave officer, I allow that I have 
 acknowledged to you having been at Bancal's on the 
 19th of March; but certainly I never told you that 
 Bastide and Jausion were there.' M. Clemendot re- 
 plied, that I was right; and the Prefect anew assured 
 me, that no mention was made of them. 
 
 " In thus saying, he passed into an apartment ad- 
 joining that in which we were, and from which he 
 could hear us; the door was besides left half open. 
 Being alone with M. Clemendot, I told him that he 
 must be satisfied, and that I made no doubt he would 
 instantly depart. He was surprised, and must be so : 
 my conduct had a right to astonish him ; and he 
 doubtless said to himself, like Master James, ' How 
 should I have devised this without a thought ?' 
 . te He conjured me to tell him all. I recommended 
 him to pack up histrunk, to join his General, and to 
 leave me to myself. The Prefect, who distinctly 
 perceived that our conversation was not that of two 
 lovers, hastened to return, and to dismiss M. Cle- 
 mendot. An instant after, my father was announced : 
 he entered with a very severe air. ' So, truly,' said 
 he, ' you dishonour your family in refusing that 
 avowal which justice expects from you.' The Pre- 
 fect announced to him that I confessed having told
 
 55 
 
 M. Clemendot that I was at Bancal's. ' Yes,' said 1 
 then; ' but I imposed on M. Clemendot: I have not 
 in my life been in the house of Bancal.' 
 
 " My father became furious at these words. * Who 
 will you persuade,' said he, ' that you have been able 
 to make sport of this kind? Who will believe it?' 
 I persisted, and it was then that he assured me he 
 would go and throw himself at the feet of the King; 
 that he would obtain an order to have me imprisoned 
 for life; that I must bid an eternal adieu to my coun- 
 try and to my son. This did but gently agitate me : 
 it could not enter into my head, that under the reign 
 of a Bourbon such violence might be exercised. My 
 father added, moreover, that I should bring my head 
 to the scaffold. ' Well,' said I, ' I shall know how 
 to bring it there : the idea of criminality will not ac- 
 company me to it, and I shall die without remorse.' 
 
 " It was then that my father, no longer able to con- 
 tain himself, began to weep. ' Wretched daughter,' 
 said he, ( and your family, for what do you account 
 it? A father, who has never swerved from honour, 
 who shewed you the path to it, you have reduced 
 him to live in opprobrium, and you empoison his 
 declining days. You have struck a dagger in the 
 heart of your unfortunate mother ! She is on the 
 bed of sickness: there scarcely remains to her a 
 breath of life. Your brothers are abandoned to the 
 most frightful despair ; and your son, your son, what 
 an inheritance you have bequeathed him!' 
 
 " It would need another pen than mine to paint 
 to you what passed in my bosom at this moment : as
 
 56 
 
 soon as I saw rny father's tears, I was no longer able 
 to discern what passed ; I felt despair almost equal to 
 that which possessed me when I thought the little 
 Edward dying in your arms. The Prefect, who was 
 not an indifferent spectator of this horrible scene, 
 persuaded my father to retire, telling him that he did 
 not think violent means would succeed with me. 
 
 " When we were alone, he spoke to me with so 
 much sweetness ; his manners, united with the recol- 
 lection of my father's anguish, made such an impres- 
 sion on me, that I concluded by actually acknow- 
 ledging that I was at Bancal's house; but that I had 
 not recognized any person there. My father re- 
 turned : he had had time to calm himself: he de- 
 manded of me what I had been doing at Bancal's. 
 I told him that I thought I had seen a man enter it, 
 whose proceedings I narrowly watched ; that some 
 one had seized me in the corridor, and had conducted 
 me 1 do not know where. I was in great difficulty; 
 I had not any knowledge of the place, and yet it was 
 necessary to make a deposition. My father, turning 
 to the Prefect, said, s She was doubtless in the closet 
 near the kitchen.' * Good,' said I to myself, there 
 is a closet : this is useful to know.' ( She must be 
 carried to the house,' added my father. ' This even- 
 ing,' answered the Prefect, * I shall be very happy 
 to be there also.' * Do not give yourself this trouble,' 
 said my father; * we will go with M. Julien, and Bra- 
 quiere, the registrar, who will carry the keys.' The 
 Prefect, however, insisted on accompanying us. It 
 was agreed that M. Julien should come for me at
 
 57 , 
 
 nine o'clock, to conduct me to the Prefecture, where 
 my father was to be, and that we should all go from 
 thence to Bancal's house. 
 
 " M. Julien was exact ; he gave me his arm as far 
 as the Prefect's, who was waiting for us in his closet. 
 My father arrived shortly. They again put some 
 questions to me, and asked me what I had done in 
 the closet. I replied, that I found myself very un- 
 well in it: that I had neither seen or heard any 
 thing ; that some one came to take me again without 
 saying a word, and had conducted me into the 
 street.' As I said this, Mr. Braquiere entered with 
 the keys. { Go before us,' my father said to him; 
 ' we follow you : open the gates.' He told me that 
 it was impossible that they should not have spoken 
 to me. ' Come, then,' said the Prefect, ' acknow- 
 ledge what they said to you.' ' No,' I replied, ' no- 
 thing was said to me.' * Ah well ! they have written 
 to you then.' I reflected a little, and then answered, 
 ' They wrote to me on a little scrap of paper : If you 
 speak, you will perish.' In wishing by some avowals 
 which I feigned to make, to withdraw myself from 
 persecution, I drew down incessantly fresh questions. 
 It was after ten o'clock when we reached Bancal's 
 house. M. Julien gave me his arm ; the Prefect and 
 my father entered first. I trembled. Picture to 
 yourself, your daughter in a place where she believed 
 they had murdered a man. When I saw the large 
 table where it is said the unfortunate Fualdes was 
 extended, the house, gloomy and deserted, like the 
 cave of Trophonius, I was seized with such a 
 fright, that I fell against the foot of a bed, by which
 
 58 
 
 I gave myself a violent blow on the shoulder. They 
 went in search of vinegar; revived me, and again 
 questioned me. I was so eager to get out, that I 
 answered yes to every thing they asked me. 
 
 " As they wished to assure themselves if from the 
 closet every thing could be seen and heard, M. Julien 
 shut himself in it. I was delighted to be freed from 
 making this experiment myself. At length, how- 
 ever, J entered this celebrated closet with all those 
 who had accompanied me; I told them that I be- 
 lieved it was the same; that it had such a window, 
 and that they had not made me ascend any steps. 
 At last we departed from this dreadful haunt, where 
 I was in constant trepidation, lest they might confine 
 me (you know that I half believe in ghosts). The 
 Prefect, who perceived my terror, told me, that they 
 would reconduct me thither, and often, if I did not 
 state every thing. He gave me his arm. We conti- 
 nued at his house till midnight. I told them, how- 
 ever, nothing more, if it was not, that the individual 
 who had conducted me into the street, had followed 
 me as far as the Square of Cite, by the side of the 
 Wells. 
 
 " We went away from the Prefecture : and in travers- 
 ing the court, I said to M. Julien, t I will return 
 here no more : the Prefect makes me say too much 
 about it.' I added, in a low voice, ' Even what I do 
 not know.' The next day I received another invita- 
 tion from the Prefect, who having heard what I had 
 said in going out, desired to speak with me again. 
 As I was dressing myself Victoire entered : she made 
 me promise to step over to her house, and impart to
 
 59 
 
 her the result of my conference : I engaged to do it 
 provided it was not night. 
 
 " Arrived at the Prefect's, I completed the deposi- 
 tion, which you have read in the information, and 
 signed it. I passed eight hours following in speaking 
 of the same thing ; and you know, my dear mother, 
 how amusing that is to me. At last the Prefect in- 
 formed me, that M. Clemendot had told him, that I 
 was disguised as a man on the evening of the 19th 
 March. I replied that it was false. The Prefect 
 told me, that this circumstance could not have been 
 invented. As I saw no inconvenience in admitting 
 it, I said, ' Very well, Yes y I was dressed as a man.' 
 But my dress having never had existence, and fearing 
 they might demand to see it, I hastened to add, ' My 
 pantaloons are burnt, I have nothing left but the 
 spencer, so do not seek for it.' 
 
 " The Prefect regarded me stedfastly, so as to make 
 me change countenance, and said that I had de- 
 stroyed these pantaloons because there was some 
 blood on them. I answered again, * Very well, Yes, 
 there was some blood.' I perceived, in these words, 
 that I might be considered as an accomplice ; but I 
 was then so worn out with depositions, so fatigued, 
 so overloaded with importunities, that I said all that 
 first occurred to me, with the idea of the sooner es- 
 caping the Prefect, and in order at last to go and 
 take some food; it was time for it;. at five in the 
 evening I was still fasting. 
 
 " Victoire came at the approach of night, very im- 
 patient to know what I had done at the Prefecture. 
 I repeated to her word for word all my deposition ;
 
 60 
 
 and made her take notice, that if she spoke of it she 
 would be subpoened. I wished to make proof of 
 this woman's discretion. What I told her was abso- 
 lutely no secret. I do not so easily make intimates ; 
 but every thing conspiring to shew her that it was her 
 interest to be silent, (for she had told me, that she 
 would on no account in the world be summoned as a 
 witness in this affair j) yet_I was unable to make her 
 silent. Next day I met her again in the morning : I 
 asked her if she had been faithful to her promise : 
 f Oh, yes,' she said. ' I'll wager, however, that you 
 have told your husband something that is true ; but 
 he will say nothing about it. Well and good, have 
 a care. You would cut a figure before the Court.' * 
 " Victoire had tears in her eyes on hearing me speak 
 thus, and left me. I had passed a very indifferent 
 
 * Madam Manson does not here perhaps insist enough upon a 
 very remarkable circumstance: it is easy to perceive that she has 
 not employed or consulted an advocate to draw up this memoir. 
 The weightiest of the charges which offer themselves in support of 
 the presumed truth of her deposition to the Prefect of 1'Aveyron, is 
 the recital that she made to Victoire. We form an idea that she 
 may have yielded to long and numerous interrogatories, to the 
 earnest instances of a magistrate who awed her, to impatience at 
 witnessing the truth incessantly repelled, to false shame at making 
 a recantation, and finally to the threats of paternal authority so 
 strangely infatuated. But Victoire ? What influence had she ? 
 What necessity ? What interest was there in making a similar tale 
 to a chambermaid? But she has not told this tale ; she has not said 
 to Victoire, " I was at Bancal's house ; I saw every thing j they 
 saved my life, &c." She said to her, " I have told the Prefect that I 
 was at Bancal's house." What an amazing difference is there in 
 repeating that one has affirmed a thing, or in fully confirming that 
 thing! I IriO
 
 61 
 
 night ; I began to foresee the consequences of my 
 confessions at the Prefecture : I wrote in the evening 
 the billet, (No. III.) and I obtained a fresh audience 
 from the Prefect.* 
 
 " But how could I dare to tell him that I had asserted 
 a falsehood ? How expose to him my motives ? A 
 cool head like that of M. d'Estourmel's would never 
 believe the effects of an exalted imagination : he had 
 however borne a part in the scene with my father : 
 but he may not think that it might have power to 
 produce a false deposition. 
 
 " I must confess to my dear mother, that I had 2*71 
 principio a powerful motive, which determined me to 
 sustain the character of a witness in this affair. My 
 father was strongly suspected of taking an interest 
 about the accused, particularly about Jausion j I 
 knew it ; and when I saw his despair, I made no 
 doubt that he was informed of the discourse which 
 was held on his account, and that he might also 
 accuse me of refraining from speaking out : I per- 
 ceived his situation, I was in torture. 
 
 " In the mean while, the idea of taking a false oath 
 pursued me, and was uppermost. I then wrote the 
 
 * " Listen to me, Prefect ! in the name of heaven, listen to me ! and 
 have compassion on the distracted state of my mind. In you alone 
 I place implicit confidence. If there is yet time for it, endeavour 
 to prevent my depositions from bt'ing drawn ; I am almost beside 
 myself : I have as yet taken no food to-day. It appears impossible 
 to me to connect two ideas. To-morrow, if you will grant me but 
 till to-morrow, I will open my entire mind to you. Oh ! have pity 
 on me ; I am only imprudent. But time presses. 
 
 " I have the honor, &c. 
 
 "E. MANSON."
 
 62 
 
 letter, (No. IV.) to the Prefect,* and carried it to him 
 myself. I forgot to tell you, that in going out of his 
 house the day before, I was accosted by M. Arseau, 
 
 * " I am unworthy of your kindness, Sir : abandon an unfortu- 
 nate ; load me with all the weight of your anger. Finish with alienat- 
 ing my mind : it is not far removed from it. I would go and throw 
 myself at the feet of the first President, to confess every thing to 
 him ; but no, it is to you that I will declare it ; but be moderate ; 
 in the name of heaven, be moderate. Forget the three troublesome 
 days that I have just made you pass : call to mind the difficulty 
 you have had in drawing from me what you call the truth. Call to 
 mind all the circumstances which have preceded my pretended con- 
 fessions, all the menaces which have been made me. Do you at last 
 discover that my deposition bears a character of probability ? But 
 it must absolutely have one. If you order me, if my father believes 
 his honor really committed in this affair, 1 will maintain this de- 
 position, at every species of danger to my own life ; if it is in dan- 
 ger, which is possible, believe me, it is not that which terrifies me ; I 
 have weighed every thing, considered every thing. It is alarming, 
 without doubt to be perjured. Can the motive serve me for. an ex- 
 cuse, and the fear of dishonouring my father, of being separated 
 from my son ? Advise me, Sir ; do not reduce me to despair. I 
 will do every thing ; yes, every thing for you whose kindness pe- 
 netrates me with the most lively gratitude, and with the desire of 
 rendering myself worthy of it ; and for a father who has never done 
 me justice. I repeat it, I will perform the will of both. 
 
 " It is certain that my deposition implicates no one j that the 
 public is persuaded that I was at Bancal's house ; that a witness ar- 
 rived yesterday evening, paid, without doubt, in order to say that 
 he had an appointment with me. This is incredible; for it will be 
 fairly proved that it was another ; we were not both there. I am 
 going to be accused in full court, before an immense crowd ; and 
 then the honor of my father will be much farther committed, and 
 mine is lost for ever : my head is no longer equal to the subject, I 
 wander from it j I shall not have power to speak; I am before you, 
 Sir; dispose of my life, it is in your hands: I have not dared to
 
 defendant on the part of Madame Jausion, Who said 
 to me, ' how do you allow yourself to be interrogated 
 at the Prefecture ? The Prefect is not appointed for 
 that purpose; you ought to protest against such an 
 injustice.' I paid little attention to what M. Arseau 
 had said to me: I quitted him without making him 
 any answer; without even, I believe, having saluted 
 him. I was hungry. 
 
 " I have informed you, my dear mamma, that I 
 carried the letter myself to the Prefect ; he read it in 
 my presence: he was expecting important disclosures; 
 and he assumed so severe an air when I wished to say 
 that I had not been at Bancal's, that I concluded 
 (terrible and incredible weakness!) by afresh acknow- 
 ledging that I had been there. 
 
 " I withdrew in a state of despair : it was very 
 late. Your cousin Planard came to my house for an 
 instant: she commenced a very serious lecture; I 
 told her that it was of great length, to judge of it by 
 the exordium ; but she had chosen her time for 
 preaching opportunely! The fever was circulating 
 in every vein, and did not permit me to remain quiet. 
 I paced my apartment with lengthened steps, and at 
 last, losing all self-possession, I abruptly quitted Ma- 
 rion, and rushed into the street. It was almost night : 
 I went and knocked at the Abbe Brast's, my con- 
 fessor : his maid told me that he was abroad, and 
 would not return till nine o'clock. On my return I 
 
 entrust this to any body. I have yesterday and this morning be* 
 come acquainted with all the circumstances laid to my charge : it 
 matters not ; I will state them to you. Your pardon, Sir \ a thou- 
 sand times, your pardon. 
 
 E. MANSON."
 
 64 
 
 met Madame Pal, and her two daughters, who pro- 
 posed to me to go into their house; I followed them} 
 my head was entirely gone; I exposed my situation 
 to them, they pitied it; I saw them all weep, except 
 the father. They told me they regretted having 
 known me. 
 
 " I left them to repair to M. Brast's ; I told him 
 that I came too tardily to seek his advice ; I recount- 
 ed to him my history : he told me, that whatever 
 might result from my deposition, I ought not to sup- 
 port it, if it was false : that nothing could authorise 
 perjury, and that I was under a mistake, in believing 
 that my testimony implicated only myself; that my 
 deposition was very strong, against the woman Bancal, 
 since I had clearly proved that the crime had been 
 committed at her house. I admitted that he was 
 right ; 1 promised him to be more prudent in future; 
 he engaged me to resume confidence, to address my- 
 self to God, who can do every thing; to remain 
 faithful to him ; and above all, to swerve no more 
 from the truth, whatever threats might be made me. 
 
 " I left M. Brast. This excellent man knew how 
 to calm my mind : his conversation restored me to 
 peace. The next day was Sunday. A woman who 
 had the appearance of a servant, brought me a note,* 
 without saying from whom. I answered, that I could 
 
 * No.-V. " Before departing this morning, I request you will do 
 me the pleasure of coming over to the house where Galtier's chil- 
 dren lodge: it is the third house on the right hand, in going from 
 the Cathedral to the Lyceum : it is near the house of M. Jouery. 
 I should be very glad to see you before my departure. 
 
 I salute you, &c."
 
 65 
 
 not accept the invitation which it conveyed to me, 
 but that I declared ignorance of any of the assassins 
 of M. Fualdes. 
 
 " I went abroad to go to the mass ; and on my re- 
 turn, I found my sweet little Edward, who had just 
 arrived. I found myself very courageous with him : 
 I could have braved an army. My father, advised by 
 the Prefect of my vacillations, sent in search of me; 
 I took my son with me. I went through a most dis- 
 tressing scene ; and in order to obtain my dismissal, 
 I again engaged to support my deposition before the 
 Court at Montpellier; hoping, that before the time 
 of the trial, I should find means to appease him. My 
 father threatened me with again removing my infant; 
 I had him in my arms; and I said, * let the stoutest 
 attempt to tear him from me. The little creature 
 clung to my neck, and after a little time fell asleep. 
 "When my father gave me leave to go, I very soon 
 profited by it : I awoke Edward ; and we remained 
 together at home, where I soon found a person enter, 
 who was sent on the part of Madame Pons, who de- 
 sired to see me. I answered, that I could not receive 
 her during the day, because it would be too much 
 remarked, but that she might come at nirie o'clock, 
 during the play. 
 
 " In the afternoon I saw the Prefect; I told him that 
 I was fully determined on supporting my deposition : 
 but I offered from time to time certain reasonings, 
 which continued proving to him that my resolution 
 was not very firm ; for he said- to me, ' you have 
 seen somebody; they have circumvented you?' I 
 acknowledged to him that I had in the morning re- 
 
 F
 
 66 
 
 ceived a note, the hand-writing of which I was unao- 
 quainted with ; (and that is true) although it has 
 since been said, that this note was from Madame 
 Pons, and it is possible. Otherwise, I very positively 
 believed it from M. Arseau : on which account, 
 without further examination, I handed it over to the 
 Prefect. I confessed to him also that Madam Pons 
 was coming in the evening. ' You do wrong,' said 
 he, ' to receive her.' I then replied, that if this lady 
 committed herself in coming to see me, I would not 
 receive her; but that, as the danger only regarded 
 myself, I should certainly not shut my doors to her : 
 that in short I examined but little if Madam Pons 
 was the sister, or the sister in law of the accused ; that 
 I only saw in her my benefactress. 
 
 " This avowal was doubtless the greatest of my fol' 
 lies : if I had not spoken of this visit to the Prefect, 
 he might not have stationed gendarmes under my 
 window, and all the world might have remained igno- 
 rant of my having conversed with Madam Pons j they 
 might have drawn no conjectures from our interview, 
 and might not have invented her having brought me 
 6000 francs, as the price of my silence. I left the 
 Prefect as the sun was setting : I recollect the time, 
 because I stopped an instant to reflect, before de- 
 scending the steps of the grand entry, which led into 
 the court. I was contented with the idea of embrac- 
 ing my son on reaching home, and of having him 
 near me during the night. I put him to bed j and 
 about nine o'clock there was a rap at the door. It 
 was Madam Pons : she was a little disguised to 
 come to my house. As I found her changed and
 
 fallen away^ I should not have recognised her : she 
 entered with a female domestic, who sat herself down 
 at a great distance from us, and fell asleep. Madam 
 Pons first asked me if I was at Bancal's house ? I told 
 her no. * But you have admitted it.' * That's true' 
 ' But you are foolish.' ( Certainly, I am foolish.' 
 ' But what then is become of your character ? I no 
 more recognise you, I have seen you so composed 
 under misfortune ; and you will support a false de- 
 position before the court.' * Oh ! no,' said I, *do not 
 imagine that my folly will carry me that length.' 
 ' Have a care, Madam ; indeed you dishonour your- 
 self; nothing in the world ought to induce you to 
 take a false oath.' 
 
 " After about a quarter of an hour's conversation, 
 Madam Pons wished to leave me, fearing a surprise ; 
 for I had frightened her, on her coming in. I told 
 her that she perhaps would be the cause that I should 
 sleep the next day in prison. This menace made 
 her desire to withdraw herself as quick as possible; 
 but I began laughing, and begged her to wait till they 
 had left the play, and there was nobody in the street. 
 
 " We conversed on the death of Madam Colrat, 
 and on many other topics which have escaped my 
 memory. I only recollect asking her if it was true, 
 as I had been told the day before, that Jausion on 
 learning my summons before the court, had de- 
 manded a poniard : She assured me that it was an 
 absurd story, and that her brother in law was perfect- 
 ly composed. 
 
 " Madam Pons left me soon after mid-night. I 
 rose next day about seven o'clock and wrote the paper 
 
 F 2
 
 No. VI. * in which the Prefect has not, he says, re- 
 cognised my style. They have subsequently asserted 
 
 f-l'-' ifel J ? >?!fc , II ir'i-t'i '', . ; , , : :: fii 
 
 * No. VI. 
 
 It is in the sanctuary of justice it is in the presence of its re- 
 pectable ministers, of the God who hears, and who will judge me, 
 that I will declare the truth. 
 
 " I declare that my first deposition is the only one, which the law 
 can take. All the confessions which I have made, have been 
 snatched from me by violence and by the fear of occasioning mur- 
 ders. In reality, with what have I not been threatened ? On one 
 side I see my brothers engaged in a duel with M. Clemendot, in 
 which some one must necessarily perish ; I tremble ! On the other, 
 lam told of an order from the King which exiles me from my coun- 
 try ; which for ever deprives me of my child, the sole blessing which 
 remains to me. I am refused all means of existence. A father 
 with tears tells me that his honour is attached to my deposition. 
 And finally, I am conducted in the middle of the night into a place 
 of horror ; they draw consequences from the effect which the sight 
 produces on me, and they have the barbarity to tell me that I shall 
 be put in a place of solitary confinement, if I do not speak. I am as- 
 sured that there are witnesses who testify against me j that the fact 
 is proved. The public, whose malignity incessantly seeks for fbod, 
 invents the most atrocious facts. I am alone without defence, without 
 advice, without support. What head could resist so many evils accu- 
 mulated on it: I have lost mine. A fever, want of sleep and of nourish- 
 ment, and despair, alienated my mind : I said things which I do not 
 even recollect. I lost for an instant all energy j but I shall regain 
 it, and I will make use of it. What ? before an august tribunal, be- 
 fore an immense assembly of people, shall I take a false oath ! and 
 that for the purpose of affirming that I was, at the hour of night, in 
 a place of prostitution, at the moment in which an horrible 
 crime was committed in it ! Add the honour of a family is not com- 
 promised by such a deposition. I repeat it at all risks to me and mine : 
 I formally deny being at Bancal's house, not only on the 19th of 
 March, the day of the murder of M. Fauldes, but even anterior to 
 this outrage. I was ignorant of the existence, and the situation of 
 this house. I desire as much as any one that the guilty should be
 
 69 
 
 that it was M. Romiguiere, who however did not 
 arrive till some days after it had been transmitted to 
 the minister for public affairs. It is so truly my own, 
 that I had not yet finished it, when a bailiff came to 
 warn me to repair to the court of judicature forthwith ; 
 and without giving myself time to read it, I put it in 
 my ridicule, and rose to depart. 
 
 " At the moment they came to announce to me 
 that my father wanted me : I was with him instant- 
 ly, and told him not to detain me, that I was in a 
 hurry, and that M. Constant was waiting for me. 
 He seemed to distrust my air, and asked me what I 
 should declare in court, ' The truth, and nothing but 
 the truth.' And I gave him the sort of declaration 
 which I had just drawn up, in which there is a phrase 
 which is not yet finished 5 but they gave me no time 
 to do it. 
 
 " I was far from imagining that my letters would 
 pass to posterity, and that my name would make a 
 noise in the world ! 
 
 " I leave you to conjecture the face my father put 
 on, on reading this paper : he became furious, forbad 
 
 punished j if I knew them, if it was in my power to throw light on 
 the steps of justice, no consideration should be able to arrest me. But 
 being at six in the evening of the 19th of March at the house of M. 
 Pal, in the rue Neuve, from whence I did not go out till nine on 
 the morning of the 20th ; let M. Clemendot fight with my brothers, 
 let all my family perish, I will never certify a falsehood which dis- 
 honours it for ever. I am decided to submit to all events. The 
 truth will discover itself, I hope. In expectation of it, I declare that 
 I persist in my first deposition ; that I will support it during the 
 trial, and for the remainder of my life ; and I sign it. 
 
 E. MANSON."
 
 my going to the court, and told me that he was go- 1 
 ing to speak to the judge, who arranged the proceed- 
 ings for the trial. I profited by his absence, to take 
 my departure. The sight of my child made me for- 
 get the terrible moments which they had made me 
 pass. 
 
 After dinner, the Prefect requested me again to 
 come to his house, this was the 4th of August : I re- 
 paired thither, and was shewn into his office He was 
 alone ; I presented him my declaration, which my fa- 
 ther had returned me. After reading it, the Prefect 
 quitted me, saying that he would return, that I must 
 take the trouble of awaiting him, and of making some 
 serious reflections. 
 
 I walked about for a considerable time in the 
 apartment in which he had left me, before his return : 
 I had even leisure enough to take a lesson in geogra- 
 phy, and study the map of the department of the 
 Aveyron. I heard steps in the great hall, and losing 
 patience, went out in order to go away, when M. Do- 
 gnat * came to me and very politely begged me to wait 
 another instant. I returned into the closet, where the 
 Prefect did not delay repairing, accompanied by the 
 king's solicitor, M. Julien, and my father, who com- 
 menced saying very severe things to me, when the 
 Prefect begged him to withdraw, < because, said he 
 to him, * you are not cool.' 
 
 " He went out M. Maynier f reproached me ex- 
 ceedingly ; there was no kind of misfortune which he 
 
 * Lieutenant of the gend'artnes. 
 t Solicitor to the king.
 
 71 
 
 did not place before me ; but I remained unmoveable. 
 I constantly bore in remembrance the advice of Abb6 
 Bras*, and always supported the truth. Nevertheless 
 I feared that my father would deprive me of my little 
 one, which caused me to write several times to the 
 Prefect to engage him to protect it.* I perceived 
 also that I had offended a magistrate by my falsehoods : 
 I wished to excuse myself, I knew not what part to 
 take with him. 
 
 * No. VH. 
 
 ** Once again, Prefect, you deign to hear me with kindness ; do 
 not load me with that contempt which paralises me in your pre- 
 sence. Who is more sensible than myself of the value of your fa- 
 vour to whom have yeu furnished greater proofs of it ? Can you 
 credit, that at the expense of all the interest which you have testi- 
 fied for me, I should have amused myself in romancing with you ; 
 and that my sole motive has been to make sport of you, in making 
 you lose your valuable time ? You cannot think it ; No, Prefect, 
 you cannot think it. But how happens it that I should not have the 
 power of soliciting your advice, as many times as I tell you that I 
 am a witness in the affair of M. Fauldes ? Is it ever loo late to 
 speak the truth ? Can you believe it ? Oh ! For pity's sake, in 
 the name of that sensibility which characterises you, do not aban- 
 don me, be still my protector ; my lot depends on you ; and if I 
 have offended you, accuse my imprudence alone, save my family, 
 Prefect ; it is for that that I implore you : have pity on my unfortu- 
 nate father, on my son ! 
 
 Could you advise me to stand to a false deposition ? In vain 
 should I promise it to yon. I am on the brink of a precipice : will 
 you not aid me to escape from it ? Have you not told me that you 
 had absolute authority, and that if I had committed a crime, you 
 could obtain my pardon ? Prove to me, Prefect, that the interest 
 which you have been so willing to testify about me, was a little un- 
 connected with the important affair ; that my family has some claim 
 on your kindness. I always make common cause with it ; my interests
 
 72 
 
 " One day, my father sent in search of me; I 
 went to him, and found there Gustavus. I underwent 
 a most distressing scene from both : there are no sort 
 of invectives which I had not to submit to: finally, 
 Amans entered in order to complete the trio, and 
 certainly he bore a good part ; there was a perfect 
 union and agreement amongst them ; they did not 
 once change their tone. This lasted four hours. My 
 son, who had followed me, and whom the conversa- 
 tion did not amuse any more than myself, grew im- 
 patient, and pulled me by the gown to make me come 
 away. I said, and I repeated it to my father, that 
 the most certain death should not make me assert a 
 falsehood before the court j that in vain should I pro- 
 mise them to do so ; that they need not reckon upon 
 it. ' For the rest of you,' added I, weeping, * you 
 ought to leave me at peace j you put me to martyrdom, 
 
 are its own. Ah ! If I alone had to complain, I should know how 
 to choose my part. 
 
 " Pardon me, Prefect, if I repeat that my design has never been 
 to offend any body, and especially him who has acquired many 
 claims on my gratitude Will you accept the assurance of this sen- 
 timent, and that of my respect. 
 
 " I have the honour to be, &c. 
 
 " E. MANSON." 
 No. VIII. 
 
 ." Yes, Sir, I am decided ; one instant more, and I had said every 
 thing. But my safety. But to morrow I will tell it you. You 
 answer me in every thing, especially in the secret. You shall see 
 whether my deposition is true or false. I have never been at 
 Bancal's house, and yet I am suspected of having been there. O 
 my God ! have pity on me. 
 
 " I am, &c. 
 
 " E, MANSON."
 
 I will tell you if you wish it, that I alone murdered 
 M. Fualdes : but in court I will speak the truth, 
 nothing but the truth.' 
 
 " Amans, when he gave his deposition in court, en- 
 tirely changed the sense of these words. He pretends 
 that I told him: I will say if you wish it, that it was 
 Jausion who conducted me close to the wells of the square 
 of Cite. I have not mentioned his name, only on 
 that day ; but your nephew, fearing, perhaps, to 
 commit me, has entirely changed this phrase, and 
 important consequences have resulted from it. The 
 counsel on the civil side knew how to turn this depo- 
 sition of Amans Rodat to good account: it has not a 
 little contributed to produce Jausion's condemnation. I 
 effected my escape from my father's, to the great satis- 
 faction of my Edward, who said to me, 'These people 
 will always torment you; tell them that you were at 
 Bancal's ; this will content them, and they will leave 
 you alone ' 
 
 " Some days afterwards I saw Pal's daughters, who 
 cast many reproaches upon me ; they assured me 
 that they had disputed with every body, to prove 
 that it was impossible that I could have gone out in 
 the evening without being perceived, and that by my 
 acknowledgements I made them appear silly, or 
 what is much worse, capable of taking me by the hdnd. 
 I urged them not to commit themselves, and told them 
 that our own interest touching us more narrowly than 
 that of others, we ought not to lose sight of it. 
 Palson* came to my house : he passed three hours 
 
 * The youngest Pal. His family use this diminutive name with 
 him.
 
 74 
 
 'there, and for the purpose of making me acknow- 
 ledge that I had seen M. Fualdes assassinated. He 
 told me that there were terrible depositions against 
 me ; that Madam Colrats' steward pretended to have 
 given me a meeting at Bancal's house. I know per- 
 fectly well that M. Librejol loves lo joke; but in 
 such a matter as that, I could not believe him capable 
 of it. 
 
 <( Palson told me that three witnesses had seen me 
 pass through the square of Cite, at eight in the 
 evening of the 19th of March, f In short,' added he, 
 ' I know something which would compel you to speak 
 if you knew it.' * Tell it me then.' ' It was entrusted 
 to me under a promise of secrecy ; perhaps if you told 
 me yours, I should decide on entrusting you with 
 mine.' I saw that it was an artifice on his part. I 
 assured him, that as for myself I knew nothing, and 
 that he could not have been told that I was gone to 
 Bancal's house. When he had left me, I reflected on 
 all that had befallen me, on all that had been said of 
 me, on that so perfect conviction of the public, who 
 made no more doubt then, than at this day, that I was 
 present at the murder of M. Fualdes. I concluded 
 that a woman was actually there, and jfchat she had 
 been taken for me. .; 
 
 " This idea was continually increasing, and it is at 
 this moment changed into certainty, or one mustother- 
 wise credit the existence of numerous false witnesses. 
 
 " Dating from the day on which I received my 
 second summons, I went no more abroad than to go 
 to the Prefecture or to the eight o'clock mass on 
 Sundays. I was become an object of horror and of
 
 75 
 
 contempt: I was, said they, an infamous prostitute; 
 and still more, I supported assassins. 
 
 " My situation was horrible, and without my son, 
 who alone found the means of soothing me by his 
 caresses and his little infantile reasonings, chagrin 
 would soon have devoured me. 
 
 " I wrote to the Prefect the letter No. IX * ; he 
 
 Sir, By what fatal imprudence have I voluntarily thrown my- 
 self into a labyrinth, from which, without an express miracle of 
 Providence, it is impossible to extricate myself ? The heaviest of my 
 misfortunes is doubtless that of having incurred disgrace in your 
 opinion ; nay, still more, contempt. What an error ! Why have 
 I betrayed truth ? What consideration has had power to persuade 
 me for an instant to wander from the track which had been traced 
 for me, and for magistrates who did not even believe that I sacri- 
 ficed myself for them, and who overwhelmed me with their in- 
 jurious suspicions ? My mind is shipwrecked ; black despair has 
 taken possession of me ; I no longer know myself. 
 
 " It seems to me you have been heard say that you made dis- 
 coveries which grieved you for the sake of humanity, of which you 
 would willingly have entertained a better opinion. Ah ! Sir, what 
 have I learnt in eight days ? What experience is that which mis- 
 fortune produces ? I have passed my life far from a world which 
 I did not seek to know ; and without my foolish curiosity for 
 plays, I should still live almost in ignorance of it. But whs*: then 
 does this world wish from me, that it is so exasperated against me? 
 In what have I offended it ? How have I merited its hate ? 
 
 " Surely I never excited envy : I am without fortune : nature 
 has neither granted me beauty or .talents ; and if some persons pre- 
 possessed in my favour have said that I have wit, I have proved 
 clearly enough that I have not even common sense. I have enemies 
 I know not why ; but this truth is too evident to call it in question : 
 they have framed a web, of which I have conducted all the threads ; 
 it is I, I who forge darts directed against myself. 
 
 " I perceive myself obliged to struggle against my disconsolate
 
 was absent. It was shortly after this period that some 
 persons unknown were in the habit of transmitting 
 
 family, against a city, a department, against all France, which 
 calls out for vengeance and which will obtain it. Heaven is just ! 
 this crime is unparalleled. 
 
 " Alas! what! and should I then be the only one who would 
 support the assassins ? Could I embrace their defence ? I, who was 
 so shocked with their atrocity, that I unceasingly repeated that the 
 penalty inflicted by the law was disproportioned to the crime, and 
 that the law of retaliation should have been preserved ? Ah ! if in 
 this affair I am not -entirely justified, I demand death ; is it not 
 preferable to an existence covered with infamy ? 
 
 " Pardon me, Prefect, if I abuse your patience; the purpose 
 which I at first proposed to myself has been that of appearing less 
 culpable in your eyes, by the avowal of my error ; if I have not for- 
 feited my right to being believed, after having failed in candour with 
 you, who have done every thing to merit it from me. My other end 
 will doubtless be more easy to fulfil ; it relates to a favour which I 
 yet am hardy enough to solicit, and which I hope to obtain. It is 
 not life, it is not liberty ; I repeat it to you, Prefect, these blessings 
 have little value for me ; but my son Edward, am I condemned to 
 live separate from him ? I no more make account of my country j 
 it does not do me justice. I will become a cosmopolite, and my 
 country shall be the place where I can find peace and impartiality. 
 " I throw myself at your feet, I implore your support ; perhaps 
 you may one day be a father ; you will never have but a very im- 
 perfect idea of my torments. I have offended you ; but have I not 
 already acknowledged it ? and revenge is a sentiment which can- 
 not find place amidst so much kindness, greatness of mind, and 
 sensibility. Prove to me that these virtues still exist in the nine- 
 teenth century. I have not doubted it in relation to you, and 
 assuredly I shall never doubt it. It is to you alone that I will ad- 
 dress myself, to you whose anger I have provoked ; you will have 
 pity on me, you will prevent their taking away my child. 
 
 " If J had committed a voluntary crime I could still obtain pardon : 
 and shall then an imprudence, nothing more than an imprudence, 
 a momentary assertion, an erroneous reasoning, be so severely
 
 me certain notes, which contained only requests to, 
 repair to houses which were pointed out in them, and 
 which I was unacquainted with. I returned these 
 requests, saying that I could not go abroad. Many 
 persons had apprised me that Amans had made a 
 deposition, and that I had confided to him being at 
 Bancal's house the 19th of March; that I had also 
 told Edward and Rose Pierret so. At all this I 
 rubbed my eyes, in order to assure myself if I was 
 
 Vj. i-i t ''in vi;. .. i .JOifL-tfOi.*! ./j pAOlf jm&^iil ] 
 
 punished? Yes, Prefect, the gratitude which binds me has caused 
 my last misfortune : it causes the fury of the public ; it renders my 
 justification so difficult, that I can only expect it from heaven. I 
 think I told you, Sir, that I had been brought up in the country ; 
 you must have easily perceived that my education has been very 
 greatly neglected j a perfect stranger to what is called etiquette j 
 how must I have shocked you by my conduct, by the choice of my 
 expressions. I never was in the presence of authority ; never has 
 man commanded my respect, excepting my father, who does not 
 reproach me, I hope, with having failed in it towards him. Pardon 
 pardon, Prefect, in favour of the intention. Do not repeat to me 
 that my sole aim has been to make sport of you. Of what monstrosity 
 do you suppose me capable ? Was there ever seen such a compound 
 of artifice and duplicity ? 
 
 " I conclude this long letter : I send it in the hope that you will 
 burn it, that at least it will only be read by you. There are some 
 
 things Ah ! if I was not a mother ! Never ! no, never ! 
 
 Prefect, you are far from knowing my character. Allow me to 
 supplicate you not to shew my letter : it is insignificant trash, a 
 knot of extravagances. Give it what name you please. What can 
 a head almost distracted produce ? Believe, nevertheless, that I 
 shall always preserve reason enough not to lose the recollection of 
 so many bounties. Will you accept this assurance, as well as that 
 of the sentiments of respect, &c. 
 
 E. MANSON."
 
 really awake j and I asked if all Rodez had lost their 
 senses, or if it was myself. 
 
 " The 14th of August the court of Montpellier 
 arrived. The Day of our Lady, there was, agreeable 
 to custom, a grand procession. I placed myself 
 at the window to see it pass. I had mounted up to 
 the second story, in order not to be perceived j not- 
 withstanding I could not escape the looks of the Pre- 
 fect: he raised his head and I met his eye, in which 
 I thought I read reproaches. The next day my father 
 sent M. Lautard * to tell me that this latter was to 
 conduct me to the Solicitor-general, and to desire me 
 to be in readiness at eight o'clock. I answered that 
 I would be there. An instant after I received an in- 
 vitation from the Prefect for the same hour ; it was 
 then that I wrote the letter No. X.f in which I men- 
 
 * Acknowledged as his son. 
 
 f Why has this letter, No. X., been suppressed in the proceed- 
 ings ? It has not appeared in a single information. 
 
 No. X. 
 
 " Sir, I am grieved to be unable to accept your invitation ; I 
 Could have wished it exceedingly. I have been several times to-day 
 tempted to write to you, to demand five minutes' audience. I was 
 restrained by the recollection of the air of irritation you showed 
 yesterday. I am obliged to be this evening at eight o'clock, by my 
 father's order, at the house of a gentleman, whose name has escaped 
 me, I believe that he lodges at M. Mainier's. 
 
 " To-morrow, Prefect, at one o'clock, if that hour suits you, I 
 shall have the honour of seeing you, doubtless for the last time. 
 To-morrow is the precursor of the terrible day. My letter, you 
 say, has touched you Great God ! there still exist then feeling 
 minds I am not then abandoned by all nature ! Ah ! though there
 
 79 
 
 tioned to him my visit to the Solicitor-general, and 
 was ignorant that it was to be a secret. 
 
 " M. Juin de Siran is a chevalier of St. Louis; he 
 received me with all the politeness possible, telling me 
 that M. de Lairolle had spoken much to him of me; he 
 added that my charming voice was famed at Montpel- 
 lier, and finished by speaking to me of this terrible 
 affair, which gaVfc me no great desire to sing. He 
 put many questions to me, and used a vast many 
 arguments with me to prove that I was at Bancal's, 
 and that I ought to acknowledge it. I assured him 
 that nothing on earth should make me declare a 
 falsehood. He took his leave of me, begging me not 
 to speak of our interview j but he was too tardy in 
 this step, I had written it to the Prefect, without 
 reckoning on my being followed in the street by Con- 
 stans, the ex-commissary of police. 
 
 " Next day my father desired me to come over to 
 his house j I went there with my little idol. I found 
 Victoire all in tears. My father asked me if I was 
 still decided on denying every thing 3 I answered him 
 I was. He spoke to me of my confidential commu- 
 nication to Victoire. I assured him that it was solely 
 
 should be but a single being in the world, who might interest himself 
 in my fate, I could still love life. How have I been deceived ! all 
 the world yes, all the world deceives me, and wishes candour 
 from me. Pardon me, Prefect pardon me I am wandering; 
 my heart is ulcerated. 1 have passed a horrible morning I will 
 tell you yes, I will tell you you will pity me, I am sure of it. 
 The more I reflect on my affairs, the less I understand them I 
 have not studied Machiavel. 
 
 " Receive, &c. 
 
 E. MANSON."
 
 at the earnest entreaty of this woman, several times 
 repeated, that I had told her what I had deposed at 
 the prefecture, which was not the smallest secret 
 f But,' said my father, will you not stand to this 
 deposition ?' I answered in a tone so firm, that I 
 would not, and that they should sooner snatch away 
 my own and my child's life, that he became furious, 
 and drew near to strike me. Victoire came to my 
 succour, but it was little Edward who must see and 
 hear it ; he set up loud cries and wished to fight with 
 his grandfather, if I had not hindered him from it. 
 He told me afterwards that he would not return again 
 to see papa, who treated mamma Clarissa so ill. 
 
 " My father was in such a passion that, to ap- 
 pease him, I again submitted, and promised him 
 every thing he wished. He told me he was going to 
 the Solicitor-general's, to impart to him my intentions, 
 and that I must be careful what I was about. I told 
 him to make himself easy, and very soon went away, 
 leaving Victoire more dead than alive. 
 
 " In the evening I was desirous to see the President ; 
 and, without imparting my design to any person, I re- 
 paired to the house of M. de Cabriere, where he lodged. 
 It was five o'clock. A servant maid told me that the 
 President was gone abroad to dinner, and that be- 
 sides he would see nobody. I protested that I was 
 no relation to the accused. e Ah !' said this girl, 
 perhaps you are Madame Manson ?' c Right.' In 
 that case the President will receive you ; I am sure 
 of it.' ' How do you know ? I told not a soul that 
 I was coming here; and myself knew nothing of it 
 an hour ago.' ' It is all the same,' answered the
 
 81 
 
 maid, '. you will do the President a pleasure ; I have 
 heard him say something respecting it.' I requested 
 her to come and fetch me at eight o'clock j she ac- 
 cordingly came, and introduced me into a handsome 
 apartment, where I found a woman in M. Grenier's 
 service. She talked with me of the cold which pre- 
 vailed at Rodez.* 
 
 " After a short interval the President was an- 
 nounced.- I rose, and was much disconcerted at see- 
 ing the Prefect also 5 he had a very animated air, and 
 appeared to believe that I was about making a confi- 
 dant of the President. He told me that in every 
 view this magistrate was well worthy of my confi- 
 dence, and that he was going to leave us to ourselves. 
 I answered him with much vivacity, that I had no 
 secret to impart to the President which might not be 
 heard by M. d'Estourmel. I conjured him to remain j 
 but he quitted us, assuring me that all that he had 
 said to me was for my own interest, and that he could 
 not conceive how I should extricate myself from the 
 gulf into which I had precipitated myself by my de- 
 nial. 
 
 " I remained alone with M. Grenier. He at first 
 treated me very severely ; and, feigning to believe 
 that I refused appearing in court, he threatened me 
 with being conducted thither by the gendarmerie. 
 I told the -President that, although I had nothing to 
 declare before the court, I should present myself 
 there, and that I knew obedience to the law. He 
 
 * It was then the month of Aygust. 
 G
 
 ti 
 
 spoke to me of my father, whom I had reduced ta 
 despair. I was not astonished at his severity -when I 
 was aware that he had seen my father ; I nevertheless 
 placed my situation before him as well as I possibly 
 could. As I spoke I perceived that the President was 
 softened, and regarded me with a less angry air. 
 
 " They came to announce M. de Plantade and M. 
 de Lunaret. I rose to depart, when M. Grenier asked 
 me if I should have any objection to seeing these 
 gentlemen; I replied none at all, and resumed my 
 seat. The President imparted to the two judges all 
 that I had told him; he mentioned to them the per- 
 secutions which I had undergone: ' in short,' said he, 
 * Madame is in such a state of exasperation, that she 
 wants to force M. Clemendot, the pistol at his head, 
 to speak the truth ; and, if he resists, wishes to blow 
 his brains out.* I had said this to the President; 
 I acknowledged the fact in presence of the two 
 other gentlemen. I spoke to them with so much 
 force and energy, that their confidence was staggered. 
 I had such an appearance of truth, when I protested 
 to them that I never was at Bancal's house, that they 
 concluded by believing me. I told them that I was 
 delirious when I made my deposition at the prefec- 
 ture ; but that the sight of the scaffold should not 
 make me deceive justice. 
 
 "The President told me to calm myself ^ that, 
 after all that I had just set before them, I ought not 
 to be even heard ; but that that would not depend 
 upon him; that he did not know what the Minister for 
 Public Affairs and the Civil Party would do. He
 
 seemed to feel for me; and, after having passed two 
 hours with him, I withdrew. It is thus that my first 
 interview with the President passed. 
 
 " Next day (the 18th) I was in court; but I re- 
 mained in the witnesses' room. On that day they 
 were employed in. empannelling a jury, and in read- 
 ing the indictment ; this day was a very uneasy 
 one for me ; I was assailed by a crowd of people who 
 said to me, ( Reveal the truth then what are you 
 afraid of ? Can you take part with these villains 
 they are the horror of all France you alone would 
 save them. ' 
 
 " I was beside myself on hearing these words. The 
 common people regarded me with contempt, the bet- 
 ter class turned away their heads, in order to avoid 
 seeing me, or rather looked at me with an air of pity. 
 Such is the condition in which your unfortunate 
 daughter found herself in the witnesses' room, the first 
 time that she appeared there. Madame Castel came 
 and spoke to me, saying : ' Take care,, cousin, how 
 you assert your not being at Bancal's, the 19th of 
 March : you are going to prove yourself a liar; there 
 is a witness present, who deposes that on the 20th of 
 the same month, Madeline Bancal brought a bonnet 
 to her to make up, which a lady had given her, and 
 she finds that the stuff is of the same pattern with one 
 of your gowns. * That is possible,' said J, ' when 
 I buy a gown, I do not take the entire piece ; others 
 may have the same taste as myself.' 
 
 " Madame Castel, for more than two hours, made 
 use of the most wearisome arguments to me, to prove 
 that I ought to acknowledge having been in a house 
 
 G 2
 
 84 
 
 of prostitution, pretending that I should not be a less 
 honest woman on that account. ' All the world/ 
 said she, * wiU commend you.' I either heard her, or 
 I did, not hear her. 
 
 " At last, they permitted us, at five o'clock, to re- 
 tire. It was time : we had gone there at ten o'clock. 
 I suffered the crowd to disperse. Madame Castei 
 proposed to accompany me, which I accepted; but 
 she retained me a moment to see the accused pass 
 by. I did not know Bastide. I could not well ex- 
 amine his features ; he walked very fast. It was not 
 the same with Jausion : he crept along and sought 
 my eye ; he fixed my regard with so significant an 
 air, that I made no doubt that this look demanded 
 something ; but I had not the talent of divining it. 
 
 r * Next day the witnesses were called. I had never 
 in my life entered the hall of justice ; at the moment 
 when I appeared I was so troubled, that I saw no- 
 thing but two gentlemen who commenced smiling as 
 soon as they first perceived me ; by their easy 
 and contented air, I took them for jury men ; but 
 what could I imagine, my dear mother, when passing 
 near them to follow the steps of the other witnesses 
 who took a direction to the bottom of the hall, I 
 saw that they saluted me, and I recognized Bastide 
 and Jausion. 
 
 " Of all the emotions I have experienced, this 
 was, perhaps, the most violent ; I precipitated my- 
 self into the crowd. I perceived that the politeness 
 of the accused could not fail being remarked; all 
 eyes were fixed upon me. I saw that they destroyed 
 themselves, and destroyed me also. I held my sum-
 
 mons in my hands. I have since been told that I 
 gnawed it, and I believe it. I was actually enraged; 
 I was choked; the Wood flew into rny head; if I had 
 not gone out, it would have suffocated me. 
 
 " Madame Castel and others did not fail to tell me 
 that the accused had taken off their hats to me, and 
 that every body knew it. Eh ! My heavens, I knew 
 it also! We returned into the witnesses' room, waiting 
 our turn to be examined ; but though my number 
 was a very distant one, I expected to be called every 
 instant; it kept every body there; I was, they said, 
 an interesting witness ! and I knew nothing. M. 
 Clemendot passed near me ; he had an air so insolent, 
 that I again formed the very serious project of blow- 
 ing his brains out before the court, the jury, and the 
 public. The sight of him had produced such an ef- 
 fect on me, that the blood gushed out of both my 
 nostrils. I forgot to tell you, that I had in the in- 
 terim, learnt that Edward was desirous to fight him ; 
 but very luckily, the generals had been informed of it, 
 and that they had taken measures to prevent the duel 
 which I feared. I wrote a long letter to the Provost, 
 to impart my fears to him ; he had the goodness to 
 repair to my house, where we chatted on this subject 
 for a considerable time: he removed my fears, at 
 least pending the trial; my brother having given his 
 word of honor, not to appear at Rodez as long as the 
 proceedings lasted. 
 
 f. s But I had calculated, that as Edward had not 
 fought for a considerable time, he must grow impa- 
 tient, and that the pretext being more than sufficient, 
 he would take advantage of it. I had considered, that
 
 , S6 
 
 if he came off conqueror, it would be a criminal af- 
 fair, which would oblige him to abscond; if he was 
 conquered, my lot would be still more frightful. After 
 this, I said to myself, * M. Clemendot is not worth 
 the trouble of my brother's dirtying his hands with 
 him ; he must perish by the hand of a woman ; I shall 
 perish also, but I shall inflict punishment perhaps on 
 a perjured witness. For myself, my action shall have 
 enough true witnesses, and they shall have no em- 
 barrassment in judging me. 
 
 " Such are the ideas which that day assailed me; 
 I paid no more attention to all that was said to me, 
 but I ruminated with ardor on the means of procur- 
 ing myself a loaded pistol. To go to a gun-smith's 
 would have created suspicions; and then, ammuni- 
 tion was necessary, and I knew not the manner of 
 employing it; the quantity even, I did not recollect. 
 I had no sleep for a single minute of the night; I 
 was in a sort of delirium. 
 
 '* I rose very early ; I had seen Madame Pons's 
 mantua-maker pass by, and wished to send in search 
 of her; when she entered, to ask me for a gown which 
 I had desired her to have dyed ; I told her, to go to 
 Madame Pons, and ask of her for me a loaded pistol, 
 having no doubt that her husband, her brothers, or 
 her nephew, had one. I assured her, that I would not 
 let it off; that not a person alive should know that 
 Madame Pons had furnished me with this weapon : 
 but I exacted from her friendship, that she would 
 send it me as soon as possible. This lady had more 
 good sense than myself, she absolutely refused what I 
 asked of her, but I did not thence abandon the hope
 
 of putting my project in execution. It was then 
 that, losing all reason, I wrote to the Prefect the let- 
 ter, No. XI,* in which I told him, that he would 
 
 * No. XL. " I have not for one instant been able to doubt of 
 your kindness towards me ; you gave me proofs of it yesterday 
 evening at the first president's house, which I shall not forget during 
 life. I saw in your eyes all the excess of your sensibility, and of 
 your interest respecting me and my father, and you have been en- 
 abled to believe that I was going to make confessions ? What other 
 than M. d'Estourmel has a. right to my confidence ? You are desi- 
 rous of my secret j I agree to it ^ soon shall it be public. Soon, 
 perhaps, shall you repair to the fountain head to solicit my pardon. 
 I promise you every explanation relative to certain phrases wfiich 
 you have deemed obscure in my letters. You shall know the cause 
 of my agitation, stronger yesterday than ever. You shall know rny 
 character, which nobody knows, and which I have taken little pains 
 to make known j for if all the world judges me, I judge myself 
 also. 
 
 " I passed the evening with the President, M. Plantade, and ano-. 
 ther judge. I said nothing to them : one word escaped me in a mo- 
 ment of exasperation, which appeared to strike the President ; I 
 checked myself. I have been told that I should not appear in court 
 to-day ; but as I am summoned, I must be at the challenge of wit- 
 nesses, at nine o'clock. I shall have the honour of seeing you, when 
 you shall judge of my words : do not despise me, Prefect ; believe 
 that I am not worthy of being despised ; and your contempt is tor- 
 ture to me. I ask you for secrecy until the very moment in which 
 I shall be permitted to speak to you: you promise not to show my 
 letter. But you will not believe me : nevertheless, I swear that I 
 will tell you the truth. What a horrible night I How slowly the 
 hours seem to creep along to the wretch who counts them : and my 
 child, he sleeps peaceably beside me ! I am condemned tp lose 
 him j I see it, I cannot avoid it. 
 
 " Receive, &c. 
 
 i 
 
 E. MANSON."
 
 88 
 be very shortly, at. the fountain head to solicit my par- 
 
 " Finally, I returned to the tribunal. I was sor- 
 rowfully seated in a corner, when Amans, who on the 
 previous days, had affected to pass and repass near 
 me without saying any thing to me, made me a sign 
 that he wished to speak to me: I followed him to a 
 grand terrace, where we could walk ; he embraced 
 me, and told rne that he pitied me. * Well and good/ 
 said I, * I excite then still some emotion in you : I 
 thought that you had forgot me, and that my face even 
 did not recall me to your recollection.' I reproach- 
 ed him respecting his important deposition, and asked 
 him, from whence he had drawn his materials for 
 making it. He assured me, that he had never assert- 
 ed that I had told him that I was at Bancal's. I be- 
 lieve it well, replied I, otherwise, the Cleobolus of the 
 department would deserve to be lodged in bedlam. 
 
 " Amans told me that his testimony signified no- 
 thing ; that he had even given it with regret, and 
 that M. Lavergne was the cause of it. I told him to 
 impart to me the tenor of his deposition. He told me 
 that respecting one circumstance, I had asked of him, 
 f If you were at the murder, what would you have 
 done ?' Well, and does this prove that Iwas actually 
 there?' We had often started this question with my 
 mother, and other persons: some said, I should have 
 
 * These words of Madame Manson were not explained until now. 
 She meditated revenge, which would lead to a capital punishment : 
 here is the secret of this species of prior solicitation, which has not a 
 little contributed to making it supposed, that she had some partici- 
 pation in a crime already committed.
 
 89 
 
 defended the unfortunate Fualdes : others said, I 
 should have cried out for help : others, I should have 
 died of fright. Must one thence imply, that all those 
 who have spoken thus, may have been at Baucal's. 
 He spoke to me in the sequel of Bousquier's deposi- 
 tion; but I have carried my reflections on this sub- 
 ject too high. 
 
 ." Your nephew appeared to me convinced that I 
 was at Bancal's house, and that I owed my life to 
 Jausion. He used a vast number of arguments with 
 me on the subject, which you have seen reported in 
 the information, as well as his decision upon the 
 oath ; but all this was very useless to me, who was 
 not in any of the cases in which he supposed me. .;> 
 
 " After I quitted Amans, the five young men, to 
 whom M. Clemendot had spoken at the coffee-house, 
 approached me; they were Captain Palmier, M. 
 Dejean, M. Julien, called Berjeu, Messrs. Ginesti 
 and Palsou. They assured me, that in -their deposi- 
 tion there was nothing offensive to me. That they 
 had effectually hindered M. Clemendot from holding 
 any discourse to my prejudice; that a thousand rea- 
 sons might have carried me to Bancal's; that there 
 were washerwomen there; that nobody suspected "I 
 had an assignation.; that I had only to speak: that I 
 should rid the earth of these monsters ; that they 
 would carry me in triumph through the town. 
 
 " It was Ginesti, who said this to me, and who 
 further called to mind those national feasts, in which 
 a woman represented Truth. I replied to all this con- 
 versation, that my intention was to speak according 
 to my conscience ; but that in order to make myself
 
 90 
 
 better understood, they must lend me a loaded pistol, 
 because I was afraid. One of them promised me one ; 
 but I did not require it of him. The next day my 
 anger had subsided ; religion and reason returned; 
 but this last did not long dwell with me. 
 
 " The morning of the next day, I again went to 
 the President ; I spoke to him of the imprudence 
 which the accused had been guilty of, in saluting me 
 in the court. I told him that it had made me mad ; 
 that every body was persuaded that I protected Jau- 
 sion, and that he had saved my life : ' but you knew 
 nothing of it?' ' Nothing, Sir; I swear to you that I 
 knew nothing of it.' c Compose yourself then, child, 
 you are desperate, indeed.' I wept and wrung my 
 hands. He told me that I might reproach Jausion 
 with his effrontery in saluting me, and even through 
 him address such questions to him, as I judged pro- 
 per ; he persuaded me to take courage. 
 
 " M. Grenier, my dear mother, is an excellent 
 man : in the affair of M. Fualdes, he has evinced ad- 
 mirable impartiality; every one has not done him 
 justice. In quitting him, I went to the Prefecture 
 to withdraw the letter, which I had had the extrava- 
 gance to send there, the Prefect was unwilling to re- 
 turn it to me, he demanded an explanation of it from 
 me. I made him importune me a little, and then I 
 told him, in troth I wished to kill M. Clemendot, in 
 order that Edward might not kill him. 
 
 " If you know M. d' Estourmel you can judge of 
 the air with which he listened to me: he ridiculed 
 me and kept my letter, which has been printed and 
 read by all France, and which nobody can explain^
 
 91 . 
 
 " The Prefect made me enter into his closet, where 
 I found Victoire; who appeared to me to have been 
 put to the question ; but, in spite of the chagrin 
 which possessed me, I had all the difficulty in the 
 world, to refrain from laughing, on hearing the con- 
 versation of the Prefect with this woman. She wish- 
 ed to speak the French tongue, but fright, and the 
 fear with which her interlocutor doubtless inspired 
 her, made her say such droll things, that the bare re- 
 collection of them makes me laugh still in the prison 
 of the Capucins, where I have been for more than 
 two months, and where I laugh but little. 
 
 " Victoire had seen Gustavus the day that he 
 played the important scene with me, at my father's : 
 she told him that it was incredible that I could deny 
 being at Bancal's house, since after having deposed 
 it at the Prefecture, I had told her so. Gustavus re- 
 peated this to my father, which was worth this pretty 
 confrontation and its consequences to me. My father 
 also told the Prefect that he felt more anxious about 
 nothing, than sending in search of Madame Redoules; 
 and here we have doubtless the history of a famous 
 witness in a criminal suit. 
 
 " Nobody shall say, fountain, I will not drink of 
 thy water. Who would have told me six months ago, 
 that I should quench my thirst so often at that of the 
 Capucins. I persuaded Victoire to go away, and 
 when I was alone with the Prefect, I anew entreated 
 him to return me my letter; he was not willing ever 
 to consent to it. I then took leave of him, and oa 
 retiring, told him, when I am in court Jausion's face 
 will lengthen, he would rather that I should be the
 
 vwoman shut up at Bancal's, but I, perhaps, shall 
 cause her discovery. I again passed the entire day 
 in the witnesses' room. I had seen M. Blanc des 
 Bourines with Charles Colrat, who is also summon- 
 ed, as having made an appointment with me at Ban- 
 cal's; but this poor young man was not at Rodez on 
 the 19th of March. 
 
 " M. Blanc was walking with Charles. I believed 
 that he had found the means of entering into our 
 room, and that he was in the number of the curious: 
 he came and set down one afternoon near me, and 
 said to me, * Good God, Madam, how I pity you, how 
 will you extricate yourself from this affair!' * I know 
 nothing at all about it,' said I, ' but I will assert no 
 falsehood before the court. 
 
 " I forgot to tell you, my dear mother, that Amans, 
 during our conversation on the previous day, had told 
 me, that for a considerable time the rumour was cir- 
 culated at la Montagne,* that there was a woman at 
 Bancal's - t that the names of Manson and Enjalran 
 would be compromised in the affair of M. Fualdes. 
 ' You bear both names,' said my cousin to me, * and 
 here is Ariadne's web. But this web, far from aiding 
 in extricating us from the labyrinth, has only made 
 those who have followed it, wander still more, and 
 Madame Manson, born an Enjalran, is not the 
 daughter of Minos.' 
 
 " I asked M. Blanc, who often goes to la Mon- 
 Jagne, if he had heard what my cousin had repeated to 
 me, spoken of: he told me, that, two months since, he 
 knew all the story of what M. Clemendot had done to 
 
 A portion of the ancient province of Rouergue, thus named.
 
 
 93 
 
 me. He then leant close to my ear, and told me, Ma- 
 dame Pons reckons much upon you. I assured him 
 that she was under no obligation to me ; that I should 
 speak the truth, as I had promised her. M. Blanc 
 had a very embarrassed air; he passed two hours with 
 me, after which he quitted me. 
 
 " About nine in the evening, I learnt something 
 very important, but I dare not tell it to any body. M. 
 Fualdes's son was the only one in whom I was able to 
 confide. I had seen this unhappy young man the 
 day of our Lady : whilst I was at my window he was 
 passing in the street; my heart told me that it was 
 him. I felt my tears flow at the sight of him; he 
 cast a look of contempt on me : let him have read evil 
 in my thoughts. He believed me paid by the murder- 
 ers of his father. 
 
 " I wrote to M. Fualdes, that I had something most 
 essential to communicate to him. I carried my let- 
 ter myself at five in the morning of that day, so fatal 
 to the accused, since the jury pronounced a verdict 
 of Guilty against them. A servant took my letter, I 
 recommended it to his care ; I had written the day 
 before to my father, you know in what terms. 
 
 " Weary of hearing it said, that M. Enjalran took 
 an interest in the accused, and stopped his daughter's 
 tongue by his menaces, I wrote that famous letter 
 which has made so much noise; sure that it would be 
 read in court, and that I should justify my father in 
 the eyes of the public.* 
 
 " I beg my father to tranquillize himself: he will be satisfied, if 
 it is really true that he takes no interest in the accused; as to myself, 
 I have strong proofs that he does not take any in them ; yet I am
 
 94 
 
 " In going from M. Fualdes's I passed my father's 
 house ; he was still in bed, but he did not sleep : he 
 reflected on this extraordinary letter, of which at the 
 first blush, he demanded an explanation from me; I 
 told him that he would one day know it. He de- 
 clared to me that he was going to carry it to the Presi- 
 dent. I replied that he was the master. In fine, as he 
 wished absolutely to know what I should say before the 
 court, and that I made no answer but ' the truth, no- 
 thing but the truth,' he grew angry, and I escaped 
 without its being possible for him to retain me. 
 
 " Returned home, I found there the Prefect's porter, 
 who begged me, on the part of his master, to repair 
 immediately to the Prefecture. This surprised me, but 
 I was much more astonished, when I found M. Fual- 
 des's son in the Prefect's closet; the latter asked me 
 if I wished to be alone with M. Fualdes, to which 
 
 distrustful after all that has happened to me. I am decided on 
 triking a grand blow : all the Court is going to be astonished. I 
 will speak the entire truth, the wretches shall perish,- and such- 
 burn my letter : if it was suspected, all would be lost ; the counsel 
 for the defendants would take their measures. Every thing was 
 cleared up to me yesterday, and nobody can doubt it. Above all, let 
 not the first President intimidate me; if the blood mounts into my 
 head, as yesterday, at the summoning of the witnesses, I should be 
 able to say nothing. I shall require all the necessary presence of 
 mind, and I should wish, if possible, to be warned some time before 
 appearing. 
 
 " You have given me your curse ; you desire my death ; you 
 refuse me succour : I am going to lo*e the only one which I could 
 expect, for M. Pons had shared her bread with me : it matters not, 
 you are my father, and your daughter is disposed to sacrifice every 
 thing to you, and will never lose her tenderness and her respect 
 for you take care of this letter. j^X 2vni j.j
 
 95 
 
 I replied in the affirmative, and the Prefect with- 
 drew. 
 
 " The presence of the unfortunate person whom I 
 had opposite ta me, penetrated me with the most 
 painful emotion. I knew his suspicions, he believed 
 me sold ; he asked me what I had to say to him. 
 I charged him to warn his counsel to take care that 
 there should be no motives for repealing the proceed- 
 ings; he appeared to pay little attention to this ad- 
 vice. Great God, how far was I from imagining, 
 that the advice which I gave him, was soon going to 
 make me anxious that these fatal proceedings might 
 be annulled. 
 
 " M. Fualdes wished to obtain from me, the avow- 
 al that I was present at the murder of his father, and 
 that I knew the authors of it ; he told me that I was, 
 perhaps, about being confronted with a witness who 
 would confound me : I asked him, if there was really 
 any one who would depose that I was in Bancal's 
 house on the 19th of March : he replied, ' that that 
 was the key to the whole affair.' ' Ah ! well,' said I, 
 give me this key, why do you distrust me, I am more 
 in your interest than you think.' Then, M. Fualdes, 
 with an air of settled sorrow and of candour, which 
 penetrated me, said, ' No, Madam, there is not a 
 witness who can prove that you were present at the 
 assassination ; but I do not doubt that you were 
 there, and that you were acquainted with every 
 thing.' 
 
 " He spoke to me of my connexion with Madame 
 Pons ; I assured him that this lady would not make 
 me deceive justice. They had doubtless spoken to him
 
 of my passion for my son ; he enlarged greatly regard- 
 ing him, and seeing that his recollection softened me, 
 made me foresee the lot which I prepared for him. 
 M. Fualdes has in his manner, something energetic, 
 much more easily understood than described. He per- 
 ceived the effect which he produced on me, and 
 stopped me when I wished to go out. ' Madam,' 
 said he, ' pity a child who demands vengeance for 
 the murder of his father j you know the assassins, and 
 you will not name them ; one of them saved your life, 
 but is he on that account less infamous ? Jausion will 
 be condemned to the galleys, but that is not enough, 
 he ought to lose his head j he is more guilty than 
 Bastide it is he who is the author of the conspiracy ; 
 I think I see him plunging the fatal knife : I was seized 
 with secret horror the first time that this monster 
 presented himself to my view, after the horrible ca- 
 tastrophe which deprived me of the best of fathers.' 
 I was senseless. e You believe them guilty, are you 
 thoroughly convinced they are so ?' I repeated. * Oh, 
 Madam,' M. Fualdes said to me, f you alone have the 
 air of doubting it, you alone would save them ; but 
 no, I deceive myself, a powerful, and by you a re- 
 spected authority, hinders you. I believe that you 
 comprehend me.' 
 
 " A mortal chill took possession of me; I saw that 
 my suspicions were well founded, my head grew dis- 
 ordered ; I became like a mad person ; I said, c you 
 believe them guilty : Well, they shall perish ; you 
 shall be revenged.' I have little recollection of all 
 that he added during two hours that our interview 
 lasted. I know that about ten o'clock the Prefect r-
 
 97 
 
 turned with the President, to ask me if I wished to 
 be heard this day. I immediately replied, that I was 
 not in a condition to be soj but M. Fualdes, who saw 
 me in the disposition in which he wished me, insist- 
 ed on it so much, and the two other gentlemen joined 
 themselves so earnestly with him, that they deter- 
 mined me on appearing in court at two o'clock. 
 
 " I remained again alone with M. Fualdes during 
 some minutes, and I must do him the justice to say 
 that he asked nothing "from me but the truth ; but he 
 was so convinced, that his conviction passed into 
 my mind, and produced the most terrible effects 
 in it. 
 
 " When I left the Prefecture, I had a wild air; I 
 must have frightened the people who met me. A 
 woman who saw me passing, said to a soldier: * can- 
 not you give this villanous woman some blows with 
 your musket ? perhaps she will then speak the truth.' 
 
 " Such, my dear mamma, is the discourse which 
 was held in my presence. Arrived at home, I drank 
 two dishes of coffee, which failed in killing me. 
 For a vast many nights I had not slept ; my blood 
 was on fire. I dressed myself. The President had 
 advised me to adopt the remarkable costume, that I 
 had when he saw me the first time ; I followed his 
 advice, and put on a black gown with a white frill 
 round the bosom, a black hat and veil. It is, doubt- 
 less, by means of this accursed veil, that some of the 
 accused thought they had recognised the woman of 
 the closet j but then I was not so well instructed as I 
 am at this day. 
 
 " I repaired to the court, and went into the wit- 
 
 H
 
 98 
 
 nesses' room, waiting till they might summon me : I 
 was in a state well worthy of pity : want of sleep, 
 sorrow, the conversation of the morning, and the quan- 
 tity of coffee, had actually so irritated my nerves, that 
 I trembled, and could not support myself. The recol- 
 lection alone makes me still tremble to such a degree, 
 that I 'have difficulty in holding my pen. My God ! 
 what will become of me at Albi, before the court of 
 Toulouse ? You know, my dear mamma, how little 
 effort is required to frighten me j I am alarmed on 
 hearing the cry of fire. Now that you know, that 
 you can appreciate what has preceded the sitting of 
 the 22d of August, you will be less astonished at 
 what passed there. 
 
 " At two o r clock, a bailiff came to call me. I fol- 
 lowed him. My situation could only be envied by a 
 person that was conducting to execution ; I was as 
 pale as he could be. I will not depict to you what 
 I experienced when I saw myself on the witnesses' 
 bench. On one side, the imposing retinue of justice, 
 that of crime which environed the accused, my entire 
 conviction of their culpability, the ferociouslooksofsome 
 of them, the profound silence that reigned in this im- 
 mense hall, the attention of the public which filled it, 
 and which expected the revelation of an important 
 secret the suspicions of this same public against my 
 father the sight of the unhappy son of the victim 
 whom it was necessary to avenge finally, the image 
 of Christ, which I had before my face, and which 
 recalled to me my duty : so many united objects, so 
 many tumultuous ideas I could not resist them, I 
 fainted'.
 
 " But in regaining the use of my senses, I did not 
 re-find that of my judgment ! I recollect but one idea 
 which incessantly pursued me. I constantly thought 
 that I saw a bloody knife suspended over my head, 
 or plunged in the breast of my son. You know the 
 rest, my dear mamma ; you have perused the infor-^ 
 mat ions j and as often as I read over again the details 
 of this fatal sitting of the 22d, I ask myself, c is 
 it, indeed, you who have pronounced all this ? Could 
 you possibly have done and said so many wild extra- 
 vagances ? ' In going out of the court, I was con- 
 ducted by Amans and M. Hippolite de la Gondalie; 
 we went to Madame d'Ornes; I found Eliza there, 
 who advanced towards me with a pouting air, and 
 appeared to be afraid of embracing me. * Oh !' said 
 I, ' if you do not wish it, you are going to lose more 
 than I.' I do not recollect if she embraced me, I 
 know that she proposed to me a private conversation, 
 in which she wanted to force me to confess to her 
 that I was in BancaPs house. ' You will be very 
 cunning,' said I. c But,' said she, t I have almost 
 certain proof of it.' f Yes, you have always proofs 
 of what never exists ; you are so often deceived, that 
 you ought to correct your suspicious character.' I 
 however followed her into a room, where she amused 
 tne with an absurd tale, which struck me so little 
 that I have forgotten it. 
 
 " I had afterwards a long conversation with Amans, 
 and I brought him almost to believe that I was. not 
 present at the murder. In fine, after having passed 
 three hours at Madame d'Ornes, I returned into 
 
 H 2
 
 100 
 
 my room, where I found the general with many offi- 
 cers of the legion of Var ; they placed a guard for 
 my security, as they told me; but I believed, and I 
 still believe, that it was to fortify me against the at- 
 tacks of certain emissaries and distributors of letters. 
 The military remained a long time at my house. An 
 officer told me that Jausion, on entering the prison, 
 had said, ' I am lost, this woman has been my death/ 
 Another told me, that M. Romiguiere would abandon 
 the cause of Bastide, if I added a single word ; and I, 
 that thought always I had said nothing, because I re- 
 collected nothing ! At last, M. Belcastel entered, 
 and sat down near me, saying, ' Clarissa, for I please 
 myself in still giving you this name, hear the advice 
 of a friend : why do you obstinately endeavour to 
 conceal the truth ? It is no crime to have been at 
 Bancal's j I assure you that there is none of our la- 
 dies who will be ashamed to be in your company, if 
 you will render society the service which it demands: 
 speak, speak, and I will give you my countenance to 
 appear in the town, which I should not do if you 
 keep silence ; in short, my brother, the Marquis de 
 Bournazel, is coming here this evening to your house, 
 to engage you to unveil this frightful affair,* 
 
 "It was assuredly a great honor that these gentle- 
 men did rne ; but whatever price I might attach to 
 their favor, I could not act against my conscience. 
 Victoire, who saw that I had three centinels, and 
 who still thought me badly watched, came to sleep 
 with mej we neither of us had any sleep. I was 
 again to be heard the next day. The general came
 
 101 
 
 to carry me to the court : but, as I was not dressed, 
 he left an officer of the legion, who waited for me, 
 and gave me his arm. 
 
 " The sitting of the 2.3rd August was very tempes- 
 tuous for your daughter -, the interest which I had 
 inspired the day before gave place to the most pro- 
 found contempt. The women who had shed floods 
 of tears on the Friday, would have spit in my face 
 the next day ; on that day, the accused and their 
 counsel had regained a little courage ; in going out, 
 M. Flaugergues reconducted me home, and re- 
 mained with me. He said the most soothing things 
 to me. But you know him, my dear mamma ; you 
 know of what delicacy he is capable ; he told me 
 to choose the person in whom I could place the 
 greatest confidence, to intrust him with my secret, 
 and to conduct myself after his advice ; that, even in 
 justice, he would not be obliged to unveil what I 
 should intrust to him. I thanked him ; I assured 
 him that I had nothing to say ; and that if I was in 
 the situation in which he supposed me, I should not 
 have far to go to find a person who would most merit 
 my confidence. He quitted me, and I had still a 
 centinel during the evening. 
 
 " The next day, Amans entered into my room, 
 { you are,' said he to me, ' an astonishing woman j I 
 have seen a letter which you have written to the pre- 
 sident, I know not from whence you draw your ideas, 
 but there are some of them sublime ; you express 
 yourself, in speaking of gratitude, like the greatest 
 masters.' * You flatter me,' said I. For the rest, I be- 
 lieve that with a little care, they might have render-
 
 102 
 
 ed me a little less foolish than I am. ' Thus far/ said 
 Amansto me, 'your character is good, take care you 
 do not spoil it.' ' If you continue to suppose that I 
 was at Bancal's,' said I to Anians, ' I know not what 
 you can find so good in me.' 
 
 " ' When a woman cannot make her sex's virtues 
 shine in her,' replied my cousin, 'she ought to endea- 
 vour to acquire those of a man ; I believe that is 
 what you have done, you are not on that account 
 less amiable in my eyes.' ', Listen to me,' said I, ' if 
 the truth discovers itself, as I hope it will, I shall be 
 more interesting than the vile woman of the closet.' 
 
 " Amans quitted me, I disposed myself also to go 
 to the Court. My little child wished to follow me, 
 I consented to it. At mid- day, when the sitting was 
 suspended, according to custom, and hardly any 
 body remained at the bar, but some persons that were 
 coming and going, the little boy said to me, in a very 
 low voice, ' Mamma, Bastide has quite the appear- 
 ance of having killed a man.' I asked him, if he 
 knew him, ' Oh !' said he, ' I believe I know him, 
 he is near the woman dressed in black, and the short 
 gentleman that must be him.' He was not deceived, 
 the morning of the next day, Amans entered my 
 house with an air of consternation, ' what is the 
 matter with you ?' I said, ' How you have abused 
 me 1 how you have seduced me ! 1 could have be- 
 lieved you for an instant. I could have believed that 
 you dealt fairly. I had raised an edifice which is just 
 tumbled to its foundation ; you say, you were not at 
 Bancal's house ? Very well, I know the person who 
 gave you the meeting there.' 'You are very clever;
 
 103 
 
 but you must make me a partner in your great 
 discoveries, in order that I may rejoice at them also.' 
 ' I do not laugh,' said my cousin to me, c and I have 
 passed the most horrible night ; I am almost as 
 wretched as on the day when my poor father expired 
 in my arms you are lost : I could wish not to have 
 known you. I yesterday saw Blanc des Bourines, I 
 questioned him, and his embarrassed air, his ambigu- 
 ous answers, fully proved to me, that he knew more 
 of it than he chose to say ; do not go and concert 
 with him, for I shall know it.' 
 
 " I begged Amans to be easy; I told him, that I did 
 not see that my situation was more desperate than 
 the day before j that all the world believed me the 
 woman of the closet, and that I should be thought 
 so always until the truth appeared ; your nephew 
 quitted me a little less agitated. 
 
 " Some days afterwards, I saw M. Flaugergues, who 
 appeared touched with my situation, and disposed to 
 give me every assistance to extricate me from it. I 
 spoke to him of the bonnet given by a lady to little 
 Madeline, on the 20th of March. He advised me 
 to go myself to the Almonry, to ascertain the stuff of 
 which this bonnet was composed. ' Perhaps/ said 
 he, c this will lead you to some happy discoveries.* 
 I wove the cloth- of the winding-sheet which must 
 envelope me j I told M. Flaugergues, that I would 
 follow his advice. Nevertheless, I had in some de- 
 gree lost sight of this affair, when a person seated 
 near me in court, said to me : c a young lady has just 
 been summoned, perhaps she will give us some in- 
 sight into this :' another person added, the moment
 
 104 
 
 after, ' we are going to see a woman appear, who 
 is said to have been at Bancal's house; her lover has 
 spoken; it appears, that having repaired late to the 
 rendezvous, he found the gate shut.' You can ima- 
 gine, my dear mother, the effect that this discourse 
 made upon me; I was inclined to throw myself on 
 my knees, and exclaim : * Oh, Providence ! you have 
 taken pity on me' I turned towards the first person 
 who had spoken to me ; I put some other questions 
 to him. He apprised me, Miss Pierret had just 
 been designated to the President, as knowing a great 
 deal respecting the affair of M. Fualdes ; on a sudden, 
 I called to mind, that it was she who had so well 
 instructed me regarding it, on the 23rd of March. 
 I recalled all our conversations on this subject; I re- 
 collected that Madam Constans came to my house 
 one day, after the departure of Rose, and that she 
 had told me, that the intention of the latter, was to 
 remain in the country all the time that the proceed- 
 ings respecting M. Fualdes should last. I passed 
 many days in reflection ; they waited with impa- 
 tience the arrival of Rose in Court; each day she 
 was announced, and never did she appear. I was 
 told, that she had been ill since I was summoned, 
 that she had found herself unwell, on hearing the 
 words reported, which escaped me at the sitting of 
 the 22d August : nobody pities me I all this confirm- 
 ed me so much the more in the idea I entertained, 
 that Rose was the woman in the closet, but it was a 
 very different thing in the sequel. I called to mind 
 the advice of M. Flaugergues, and determined on 
 following it, I begged Madam Castel to send me the
 
 105 
 
 mantua-maker, who had made Madeline Bancal's. 
 bonnet. She came instantly, and informed me, that 
 they had sent her a sleeve of a taffety spencer, of a 
 dark colour, to make the bonnet; that they had taken 
 away all the remnants, but, that if I would come to 
 the Almonry with her, perhaps we could see this 
 bonnet, and she should be sure to recognize it. We 
 then went there. As this woman was known to little 
 Bancal, she first presented herself; I remained at 
 the gate ; she returned in an instant afterwards, to 
 tell me, that Madeline had sent the bonnet to her 
 mother, who had caused a black one to be sent to 
 her, on account of the mourning for her father. I 
 had this child called, she came; I looked earnestly at 
 her, and said to her, * I come from the Court ; your 
 mother has confessed every thing, she will save her- 
 self; as for you, who do not wish to speak, they will 
 * sead the gendarmes to take you up : I have de- 
 manded your pardon, hoping to bring you to speak 
 the truth.' Madeline looked at me, my air made 
 an impression on her ; I asked her, if M. Fualdes was 
 not killed at her house; she answered yes, and gave 
 me the details which we knew. I asked her, if there 
 was a lady at her father's house during the assassina- 
 tion. I promised her a crown piece, if she could be 
 the means of my knowing her; she then said, that 
 the woman was veiled; I lifted my veil entirely up, 
 and said, look at me, am I this woman ? the little girl 
 answered me, that she had not seen her face, because 
 her veil was very thick, descended down to her knees, 
 and was black. Remark, my dear mother, that all 
 this conversation took place in the presence of the
 
 106 . 
 
 mantua-maker, who did not leave us. With what 
 openness have I acted, and it is this has ruined me : 
 one must have somewhat of Machiavelism in the age 
 in which we live; without it who can flatter himself 
 with succeeding? 
 
 " After the circumstance of the black veil, 
 which I thought I so well understood, I wished to 
 know no more about it; I took Madeline by the 
 hand to conduct her to the Prefecture, but the 
 Syndic opposed it. I went in search of the Prefect ; 
 he came to me with a napkin in his hand, and his 
 mouth full: it was the hour of his dinner: I im- 
 parted to him my discoveries : he begged me to re- 
 turn to the Almonry, where he would instantly re- 
 pair. Indeed, he did not make me wait long; he 
 came, accompanied by two gentlemen, who I have 
 since learnt, were the Sub-Prefect of Espalion, and 
 M. Bonald de Milhau, the younger. The Prefect, as 
 well as these gentlemen, questioned little Bancal as 
 to the lady of the closet ; she made almost the same 
 story which M. Clemendot recounted to me on the 
 night of the 27th July. The Prefect demanded of 
 Madeline if this lady was of my height, and begged 
 me to stand up : the little girl answered that she was 
 not quite so tall as me, and infinitely fatter. 
 
 It was almost night ; little Edward demanded my 
 care ; I begged the Prefect to allow me to withdraw, 
 but he persuaded me still to remain a short time. 
 He went out in order to go, as he said, and apprise 
 the President of what had passed. I then remained 
 with the two other persons and Madeline, who, once 
 launched out in the career of revelations, could no
 
 107 
 
 more stop herself. The Prefect soon returned with 
 four gentlemen whom I could not distinguish, he- 
 cause it was night. I thought however that I recog- 
 nized the voice of M. Plantade ; I took leave, and 
 M. de Lastic, Sub-Prefect of Espalion, gave me his 
 arm to reconduct me to my house. It is inconceiv- 
 able that I should hold a conversation with him from 
 the Almonry to the Rue de Touat, and that I should 
 afterwards not have recollected him in court, where I 
 have seen him several times successively, seated op- 
 posite to me, and employed in designing my portrait. 
 He came and spoke to me at the sitting of the 8th 
 September: I have constantly asked, who was the 
 tall gentleman who accompanied me on the day that 
 I was at the Almonry. It is only in prison that I 
 learned to whom I had this obligation. 
 
 " I already thanked God for having saved me from 
 shipwreck ; I believed the tempest was appeased, 
 while the storm was over my head, and the thunder 
 was about to burst forth. I made a fervent prayer, 
 and laid down. I anxiously waited the morrow, 
 hoping to obtain an ample justification. I wrote a 
 letter to Amans, of which he comprehended nothing, 
 he told me ; doubtless this was the cause that he paid 
 me in the same coin; his answer was algebra to me; 
 I preserve it as an enigmatic monument. 
 
 " I returned to Rodez at an early hour, and re- 
 paired to Court, always hoping to see Miss Pierret 
 appear there; but I still expected her in vain. On 
 that day I wrote to her towards evening, and had 
 my letter carried by my hostess, who gave me an 
 account of the effect which this letter produced upon
 
 108 
 
 her : I understood that she had wept, that she could 
 with difficulty speak or walk, ^and that she finished 
 with saying, that she did not know what Madam 
 Manson wanted. 
 
 " My letter was simple: I begged Rose, if she 
 knew any thing respecting the murder of M. Fualdes, 
 to say it; and to extricate me from the horrible situa- 
 tion in which I was. I received no answer. 
 
 " By the effect of a destiny, constant in persecut- 
 ing me, of that fatality which unceasingly pursues 
 me, I found myself placed in Court, near an advo- 
 cate of Albi, a zealous friend and great admirer of 
 M. Romiguiere, having made the journey to Rodez, 
 expressly to take part in his success in the grand 
 cause which he was going to plead. This young 
 man oftentimes addressed me, in order to tell me 
 handsome and flattering things. I first thought that 
 he was the man who had given me his arm, the day 
 that I was at the Almonry ; he suffered me to be- 
 lieve it, and I should still be persuaded of it, if he had 
 not at last undeceived me. He made use of the pre- 
 text of a letter, with which he was charged by one 
 of my brothers, and he came to pay me a visit j 
 sometimes even he accompanied me as far as my 
 house. He went early to the Court, in order to be 
 able to procure himself a place near my chair, which 
 was guarded by a private centinel, near those of the 
 officers of the legion : I was the only witness who 
 had a chair, all the rest were placed on benches. I 
 know not why I had so many privileges, for they 
 were very much dissatisfied with me. 
 
 " The young advocate always spoke to me very
 
 109 
 
 loud, and manifested, without putting any restraint on 
 himself, the interest which he took in the accused: 
 he expressed himself on the subject with the greatest 
 candour, pretending that they would be acquitted 
 any where but at Rodez. He was far from perceiv- 
 ing the consequences of his words : I told him, 
 ' take care, or you will be stoned ; keep your opinion 
 to yourself, otherwise you commit me.' Indeed 
 I was followed, spied, listened to. What I had 
 foreseen came to pass : they imagined that this ad- 
 vocate was an emissary of M. Romiguiere, and they 
 were more and more convinced of my understanding 
 with the accused : in consequence, after some days, 
 M. Rous, surnamed the rich, a merchant of Paris, 
 who often sat near me, and who had overheard the 
 discourse of young Aibigeois, sought a quarrel with 
 him, and threatened to lodge a complaint against 
 him in Court. The next day, the chief of squadron 
 of the gendarmerie came to tell him, without any ce- 
 remony, to change his place, to leave Madam to her- 
 self, (speaking of me) that she knew what she had 
 to do, and that, if he continued this kind of conver- 
 sation he would arrest him. The advocate did not 
 dispute the matter, he did nothing more than entreat. 
 " You remember, my dear mamma, that you 
 wrote to me, that, if I had not an exact acquaintance 
 with the murder of M. Fualdes, I ought to demand 
 the liberty of speaking, in order to detroy a convic- 
 tion founded on my conduct at the sitting of the 22d; 
 and that I ought to hinder a judicial murder. I fol- 
 lowed your instructions; I wrote to the President
 
 110 
 
 who had me summoned into the Council-chamber. 
 I imparted my fears to him : he answered me in two 
 words, that the court would not refuse to hear me be- 
 fore the close of the proceedings. I found his man- 
 ner very severe. You know that I was summoned the 
 8th of September : you know how I covered myself 
 with shame in searching out the truth. Rose denied 
 having known me before the month of July ; she de- 
 nied having ever spoken of the affair of M. Fualdes 
 to me ; but she did not assert this falsehood with im- 
 punity; she trembled in speaking, and left many 
 people persuaded that she was not telling the truth. 
 
 " Madame Constans had just exhibited the most 
 ridiculous scene ; her husband had dreamt that I had 
 said that I was at Bancal's ; and this woman, sooner 
 than contradict him, set np a show of blubbering, 
 hesitated, and forever convinced the court, the jury, 
 and the public. 
 
 " Two days afterwards I was told, from Amans, to 
 repair to Olemps; Edward was arrived there, and 
 was to communicate some important matters to me : 
 it was your celebrated interrogatory ; to which I an- 
 swered, I hope, to the extent of your desires. 
 
 " I thought I perceived in my brother an extraor- 
 dinary air , and, as all the people who wear this air 
 are thought to be well informed in the affair of M. 
 Fualdes, I made no doubt but my brother might 
 know great things. * He, however, swore to me that 
 he knew nothing. Madame Rodat was very cold with 
 me; as to Eliza, she had given me a specimen of her 
 contemptuous air j but, as it is not my custom to
 
 make advances to people who draw back, I left my 
 cousin, and discoursed with her brothers and mine. 
 
 " Your god-daughter, they tell me, is married j I 
 hope that her husband will never enter Bancal's 
 house ! Eliza told me one day that her attachment 
 for me was very solid ; but that I did not love her in 
 the same manner. { I know,' said I, ' that, provided 
 you were assured that I was interred in consecrated 
 ground, you would be very much consoled in learn- 
 ing my death - 3 it is not the same with me every one 
 has his manner: for example, if they had just told 
 me that a woman, for whom I had a strong attach- 
 ment, was found in a house of ill-fame, I should not 
 believe this news on the first report ; I should require 
 satisfactory proofs, and would not deal harshly with 
 her, to make her confess it to justice 5 especially if 
 she had certified me that the fact was false/ I learnt 
 of Amans all that the little Bancal had told me ; he 
 recommenced his doubts that I was at her father's 
 house on the 19th of March, and told me that he 
 would come and assist at the sitting of the next day. 
 Edward appeared to me sorry for the scene which had 
 taken place during that of the 22d of August, when I 
 had assured him that I had no acquaintance with the 
 murder ; I said to him, without entering into all the 
 details which I have here given to you, that I had 
 not been mistress of myself. I again repeat it to you, 
 my dear mother: justice may punish my conduct, 
 but it would not know how to make me repent of it. 
 What I have done voluntarily I thought it uiy duty 
 to do; for the rest heaven will not demand an ac- 
 count from me of this imposture.
 
 " The President treated me so ill, that I had not 
 power to say any thing in my justification. My let- 
 ter to my father, as well as his to the President, were 
 read at this sitting, and produced an effect contrary to 
 that which I had expected from them : at last, grown 
 desperate from perceiving that they did not listen to 
 me, I provoked the Attorney- general, in order that 
 he might form his conclusions agaihst me, as he had 
 announced. 
 
 " I had written to M. Fualdes, that he had but one 
 way of discovering the truth ; that he must have me 
 arrested, and that then perhaps the wretched woman, 
 shut up in the closet, under the alternative of saving 
 an innocent person, or of suffering the guilty to pe- 
 rish, would not hesitate. 
 
 " I judged for myself, my dear mamma; I had also 
 another end ; I thought that if I did not succeed in 
 discovering the truth, I should at least annul the pro- 
 ceedings, and should not have to reproach myself with 
 having caused wretched persons to perish, with whose 
 guilt I was unacquainted. The Civil Party displayed 
 more artifice than myself; the Attorney-general placed 
 me under the eye of two gendarmes; but that was 
 only for an hour, and whilst I was still in court. 
 
 "However we arrived at the moment of pronouncing 
 judgment ; I saw the blood of Jausion and Bastide 
 flowing ; I heard the cries of their wives, and their 
 children. This image pursued me incessantly ; I 
 constantly said to myself, ' you alone have caused 
 them to be condemned !' 
 
 " Jausion looked at me and seemed to say to me ; 
 I What have I done to you ? Why do you wish for
 
 11* 
 
 Tny head ?' His wife cried out : ' Madam, have pity on 
 my children, you are a mother also, you love your son 
 so much ! ' Oh Mamma, put yourself in my place, 
 what would you have done?' 
 
 " The 12th of September I underwent a new temp- 
 tation j I had the air of being provoked by M. Ro- 
 miguiere, and I called out, ' all are not in irons, and 
 the truth may not proceed from my mouth* It was this 
 that conducted me to the Capucins ; but two days 
 too late. 
 
 " You may suppose that I was not in court to hear 
 the sentences of death. I passed a horrible day. In 
 the evening, at the approach of night, I held up my 
 child, who looked through the window on the people 
 who were passing : on a sudden I saw a man who was 
 walking very fast, and held a large knife perfectly 
 naked. I thought that he was coming to cut off our 
 heads ; I rushed towards the door and doubly shut it. 
 All the night I saw myself surrounded by blood ; it 
 appeared that my bed was bathed with it ; I threw 
 myself upon the cradle of my child, I believed him 
 dead ; the movement which I gave myself awakened 
 me. 
 
 " The next day, Madam Lacombe told me, c some 
 disaster will happen in this house; for two nights 
 past I have dreamt of nothing but blood ; my hair 
 stands an end.'!-' Do not tell me that,' said I to my 
 hostess, ' I have the same dreams.' She answered, 
 that hers were always realised. 
 
 " The 14th of September (of happy memory) a bai- 
 liff came to serve me with a warrant; I received it 
 
 I
 
 114 
 
 with the most perfect indifference. I first repaired to 
 the court, where I was interrogated ; from thence I 
 repassed to my house to take my child, and went 
 to prison. 
 
 " I was to occupy the chambers which the ladies 
 Jausion and Galtier had just quitted ; but my jailer 
 answering for me, kept me at his house. I subscribed 
 to every sort of arrangement ; at that moment all was 
 equal to me. The Prefect came in the evening ; he 
 put me in mind that he had predicted all that had be- 
 fallen me; that it was my pleasure to destroy myself. 
 The mayor entered a moment after ; they took all 
 possible measures that nothing might be wanting to 
 me. They wished that 1 should have a room ; but 
 as the wife of the jailer seemed desirous to have me, 
 I said that I was very well off, I had every thing that 
 was necessary for me. Indeed, what did I want ? 
 My son partook of my lot. 
 
 " I passed fifteen days, without scarcely a thought 
 that I was in prison ; during the night I suffered much, 
 I had continually fever, accompanied with delirium ; I 
 uttered horrible cries. Once it appeared ta me that 
 the woman Bancal had poisoned you as well as my son ; 
 another time I saw Bastide, in a state of frenzy, re- 
 proaching me with having caused his condemnation ; 
 I was in his power, he was going to avenge himself. 
 I often saw the accused on the scaffold. One night, 
 they came and rapped roughly at the door, and cried, 
 ' open /' the jailor instead of opening it, ran to look 
 out of the window, I thought that we were lost; I 
 took Edward in my arms; I had determined to
 
 perish. At last I learnt that it was a malefactor 
 whom they had taken, and whom they were conduct- 
 ing to prison. 
 
 " My husband who had never troubled himselfabout 
 the child, who has come into Rodez above twenty 
 times since I dwelt there, without making any inquiry 
 about it but who had understood from the publici- 
 ty of the trial that all my solicitudes were for this 
 child, bethought himself of snatching it from me, at 
 the moment when it was more precious to me than 
 ever. They informed me at the same time that you 
 wished to see it; I decided on sending it to you, as 
 he was content when he knew that his uncle had 
 come to fetch him ! However, when I embraced him, 
 and he perceived some tears which I made vain efforts 
 to restrain, this inestimable infant commenced weep- 
 ing, and returned into my prison, forgetting every 
 thing in order to console his mother. My reason got 
 the better, I separated myself from him. 
 
 " I was far from foreseeing that his absence would be 
 so long and so painful ! It was when I found myself 
 alone, that I discovered I was a prisoner. The veil 
 was fallen, the talisman was broke. I have the mis- 
 fortune to be a fatalist ; I persuaded myself that the 
 presence of my son would preserve me from every 
 evil; he has at least the talent to sweeten them, and 
 to make me support them. 
 
 " When I heard the gates reclosed, which it did not 
 depend on me to have opened, a deadly coldness 
 seized me : I fell on the pavement ; I know not how 
 it is that my skull was not fractured. They came to 
 my succour, they wished to recall my son, but I op- 
 
 I 2
 
 116 
 
 posed it. I passed a painful day; it was followed by 
 many others. 
 
 <e My husband caused to be signified to me a suit 
 for separation of body and goods, and demanded 
 my child; we were twice heard by M. Bertrandi 
 as referee; you know his odious conduct with this 
 estimable man. 
 
 " The Prefect seldom passed a week without coming 
 into my prison. I saw also twice the Provost, and 
 Madame Delauro, * who did me a thousand kind- 
 nesses ; she sent me books, and the newspapers. One 
 day General Desperieres brought a sheet containing 
 a letter addressed to a certain Dornac du Rosai: this 
 letter was signed Pauline Engelrand ; they made me 
 say a heap of things which I do not recollect, for I only 
 read it once ; I solely recollect these words : ,My only 
 desire is to regain the friendship of my father ; / will 
 soon unite myself with my Adela in the abode of peace ; 
 and in speaking of the assassins : they are powerful 
 they are numerous. Oh ! the Monsters Infamous 
 house of Bancal ; they shall know that you have never 
 possessed me. 
 
 " This letter was very long, and has puzzled the rea- 
 ders ; I assured the major-general that not a word of 
 it was mine ; that I was not called Pauline, and that 
 I knew how to spell my father's name. 
 
 " I often saw people at the jailer's, but I spoke to 
 nobody, except in his presence ; yet I was informed 
 of the news ; I learnt that there were great reasons 
 for annulling the proceedings, and I began again to 
 entertain some hopes of it. One day I was informed 
 * The mayor's wife.
 
 117 
 
 that Jausion, after having heard his sentence read, 
 addressed himself to the woman Bancal, and to the 
 other accused, and had challenged them to declare 
 if he was present at the murder. The moment was 
 terrible ! he greatly exposed himself if he is guilty. 
 They added, that he particularly addressed Misson- 
 nier, who not being condemned to death, could profit 
 of his offers ; and that, on returning into prison, he 
 had again said, ' Madame Manson ought to be ar- 
 rested, and then she would speak the truth.' What 
 does this unfortunate wretch then wish with me ? 
 Does he believe that I was at Bancal's house ? and 
 not having been there himself, does he invoke my 
 testimony ? Or rather, not having seen me, does he 
 wish that I should maintain that I was not there ? 
 In this last case he will be satisfied. 
 
 " The more I think of this horrible affair, the 
 more I lose myself. I am perhaps the person who 
 sees the most obscurity in it ; and I pass for having 
 the key of the whole. After having made an exact 
 recapitulation of what I had seen and heard in this 
 trial, I have made many conjectures, which I have 
 entrusted to no person. / preserve these things, and 
 repass them into my heart. 
 
 " When shall we meet again, my dear mother ? I 
 no more put confidence in any body j for no consi- 
 deration in the world would I be in the secret of the 
 murder 5 they would finish by drawing it from me, 
 and I should perhaps not be long in repenting of it. 
 
 " The proceedings were at last annulled ; and soon 
 afterwards I was informed that it was said, that Ma- 
 dame Manson had done it. It is not that I think the
 
 118 
 
 accused will get themselves off at Albi ; but they 
 have discovered new witnesses, and it will not be my- 
 self, who know nothing about it, who will cause them 
 to be condemned. I shall be easy on that score. 
 You know all the reports that were circulated at my 
 father's expense j in vain have I wished to parry the 
 blows directed against him ; in vain have I sacrificed 
 myself. I am myself lost, and have only given more 
 audacity to his enemies. The reptiles of 1'Aveyron 
 have vomited their venom. Cursed race ! shall the 
 world never be purged of you ? My father knew the 
 accusation which was prevalent against him ; he 
 never spoke to me of it, but he knew it j I read it in 
 his eyes, in his gestures, in the convulsions of his 
 despair. He was told that I had gone to Bancal's 
 house, and he believed it; and his love for justice 
 and truth carried him above the prejudice which 
 condemned his daughter to obloquy. My father be- 
 lieved me a witness to the murder, and he wished to 
 make me confess it. Hence the persecutions which 
 he made me undergo, and which, according to mali- 
 cious people, had another end. 
 
 " My father, who worthily filled his place in the 
 magistracy, who was always the terror of criminals 
 when he was their judge, is accused of being the 
 support of the assassins of M. Fualdes ! of even 
 being their accomplice ! a man who, by his deli- 
 cacy, has disdained to enrich himself during the re- 
 volution by means which many people, reputed ho- 
 nest, have not regarded as illicit; a man who has 
 braved this revolution, to such a degree as not to 
 wish to dissemble his opinion, at a Jime when he saw
 
 t r iio 
 
 himself a prisoner, deprived of his property, tlie axe 
 suspended over his head this same man should be- 
 come all at once a robber, a cowardly assassin ! No, 
 he has not suddenly turned a froward character ; he 
 does not abjure, at an advanced age, the principles 
 which he gloried in possessing. 
 
 " What avails it to have led a life without reproach, 
 to have acquired a spotless reputation, if it depends 
 on some malicious beings to blacken it ? Ought one 
 to expect, after having filled a long and honourable 
 career, to descend into the grave covered with igno- 
 miny ? May my father triumphantly come forth from 
 this struggle ! Let him confound his calumniators, 
 a thousand times more dangerous than the monsters 
 to whom I have compared them. In short, let the 
 whole weight of misfortunes light upon me. 
 
 " I never can revenge myself upon my enemies ; 
 Heaven will take this care for 1 me. I had four of 
 them ; they were powerful : two are dead without 
 relief and without repentance : the third fell from a 
 precipice, and his fall has loaded him with infirmities 
 for the rest of his days ; the fourth has lost his liberty 
 who knows what awaits him ? It is better to be 
 the oppressed than the oppressor. 
 
 " My recital is finished, my dear mother ; but 
 suffer me to converse with you; suffer my pen to 
 flow at hazard on the- sentiments which I experience. 
 In my captivity, it is my sole alleviation, my sole 
 consolation. Does any one wish to inspire interest 
 at Rodez ? let him get himself condemned to death. 
 The receipt is infallible, but I shall not make use of 
 it. One cannot form an idea of the rage of the inha-
 
 bitants of this town against Jausion ; he was the most 
 infamous of wretches ; he alone was the author of the 
 murder of M. Fualdes; it was he that struck the first 
 blow ; he ought to be cut to pieces. But the sen- 
 tence once pronounced, I heard them chant their 
 recantation : ' Poor Jausion !' said one, * they have 
 judged him too severely; they had not proofs of his 
 guilt.' 'What will become of his poor wife?' said 
 another? 'And his poor children ?' 'A father of a 
 family,' cried this one; 'how I regret him!' At last 
 they learn that the sentence is annulled, and they cry 
 anew ' To death with him /' This is the world, my 
 dear mamma. 
 
 " It is with almost all the inhabitants of 1'Aveyron 
 as with the climate : it freezes here three quarters of 
 the year; but as there are some fine days, so there 
 exist also some sensible and good hearts. I have 
 known how to discern them in the multitude ; I have 
 known how to appreciate them ; their name is for 
 ever graven in my memory with the recollection of 
 their kindnesses, 
 
 " In order to understand me, they should say that I 
 was born in one of those fine regions which the Tiber 
 or the Arno water. I dare stand a trial in my own 
 country, which has been said to have so well judged 
 me. It is an impartial posterity that will render me 
 more justice ; it is to its tribunal that I appeal ; it 
 will annul the sentence of my cotemporaries. 
 
 " With what infernal spirits have I been surround- 
 ed ! They have pretended that I was sold to as- 
 sassins ! I hope that this calumny has found credit 
 but with persons themselves capable of similar vena-
 
 121 
 
 lity : their opinion little affects me. There are souls, 
 I repeat it, worthy of adoration in the universe. May 
 I merit their esteem, and testify to them with warmth, 
 all my gratitude; the wish of my heart will be ful- 
 filled. 
 
 " I return to my situation : I had learnt in prison 
 that the little girl Bancal pretended that I was the 
 Lady of the Closet, and that she had recognized me. 
 As I know that they fabricate news at Rodez, and 
 that the more they are displeased, the more credulous 
 they are : I gave myself very little trouble about this 
 rumour. Nevertheless, the Prefect assured me that 
 it was true, and that he had it from Madeline her- 
 self, who had assured him so at the Almonry, a short 
 time after 1 had gone out of it, on the day of her im- 
 portant discoveries ; and that she had added, that I 
 had promised her a crown piece, in order that she 
 might declare she did not know me. 
 
 " So much falsehood on the part of an infant of ten 
 years of age surprised me j but in spite of the asser- 
 tion of little Bancal, I should easily have justified my- 
 self in a country where they were less prejudiced 
 than at Rodez ; for what probability is there, if I was 
 really in this famous closet, that I should have my- 
 self gone in search of the only witness who deposes 
 to this fact, and that I should have taken every pos- 
 sible means to make this child speak, whom no per- 
 son had been able to persuade, either by promises or 
 by threats, to the least confession, and who adhered 
 during five months to the most rigid denial ? 
 
 " Madeline had heard mention of the entire his- 
 tory of a woman, locked up in the closet of her father's
 
 122 
 
 house, and she repeated it. The first day she spoke 
 of only one lady ; now, after her last deposition, there 
 should have been seven women in her house on the 
 evening of the 19th of March. Madame Manson 
 was in the closet, into which they forced her to enter; 
 and on this demand from her, what she had done, 
 and why they put her there ? They answered, < you 
 will know it.' Afterwards, there were three other 
 ladies, one of whom had black feathers, another green 
 feathers, and the third a bonnet: she named her 
 mother, Anne Benoit, and another girl whom Bous- 
 quier speaks of. The history of the green feathers is 
 a mystery which they wished to ascribe to Miss Gip- 
 son, who is, I believe, the only woman who wears 
 feathers of that colour. This English lady was at the 
 Almonry to question little Bancal ; and one of the 
 gentlemen who accompanied her gave Madeline her 
 lesson to puzzle Miss Gipson. I- have this fact from 
 one of our Judges, who is not less persuaded that all 
 which concerns me in Madeline's deposition is not 
 very conformable to the truth. 
 
 4 * I have been confronted with this child : she had 
 said, the first time, that she only recognized me by 
 the voice ; and on our being confronted, it was by 
 the face : if we meet again, it will perhaps be by the 
 turn of my wit. She has again spoken of the green 
 feathers, and this fact is recorded in her deposition. 
 As for myself, I had a black veil, which descended 
 below my knee, and a red gown. I left the closet 
 while the wretched Fualdes still breathed. I sued 
 for mercy for myself, and I pronounced, with my 
 hand upon the corpse, the most horrible of oaths.
 
 123 
 
 Jausion then took me by the hand, and conducted 
 me as far as the wells of the square of Cite. This is 
 one of the depositions oflittie Bancal. 
 
 " She said another time, that I had entered into 
 the closet dressed as a woman, and that I had come 
 out of it in man's cloaths. Why so ridiculous a dis- 
 guise ? if I had put on the habit of a man, it would 
 have been in order not to be recognized in the 
 streets. 
 
 " However absurd may be the deposition of Ma- 
 deline, it has been adopted throughout. I perceive, 
 my dear mamma, that my folly is become contagious. 
 They have just told me that the woman Bancal had 
 also asserted in prison, . that I was at her house on 
 the evening of the murder. I'll wager this is not 
 true, and that it is a fictitious witness who reports 
 this fact. Bancal, with whom I have been con- 
 fronted, about fifteen days ago, reproached me with 
 having said that I had been in her house, when I 
 had never set foot in it - y and that I saw myself forced 
 to acknowledge the contrary. Besides, if there was 
 a lady in the closet, Bancal, who had introduced her 
 there ought to know her ; if she did not know her, 
 how could she assure herself that it was me? she 
 could not confound my visage with that of another : 
 I have not one of those faces that one meets with 
 every where. It is only in my glass when I am 
 opposite to it that they may see something which re- 
 sembles me ; and if they sell my portrait at Paris, as 
 I have been assured, and pretend a resemblance, it 
 is an arrant counterfeit. 
 
 " The gendarme Monteil has pretended, that
 
 124 
 
 at the sitting of the 8th of September, Bancal had 
 said, in speaking of me, that I always denied having 
 ever been at her house : let her say so, she was there 
 sure enough. This woman was at the moment called 
 upon by the President, and she asserted not having 
 said this. Here is the way in which she expressed 
 herself; she said, c if she was there, let her say so ,' 
 which is very different. M. Grandet, the defender of 
 Missonnier, heard the discourse as it was held, and 
 repeated it to me. Besides, why should Bancal have 
 retracted the same minute ? I spoke to her of this 
 again when I was last confronted with her. She told 
 me she had expressed herself in the sense which M. 
 Grandet had reported to me. It is certain, my dear 
 mamma, that they have lately told me such extra- 
 ordinary things, that I often know not what to 
 answer; I open my astonished eyes, and play the 
 part of Sosia. 
 
 " I am sometimes pleased to identify myself with 
 the individuality of Bancal's house, which is not 
 however the individuality of the Capucins ; for one 
 runs into the field, and the other is behind villainous 
 grates, and a treble door. I torture my mind j I make 
 a thousand conjectures which destroyed each other. 
 I stop however at this last, which appears to me 
 the most reasonable : it seems evident that there was 
 a woman at Bancal's during the murder. The party 
 of M. Fualdes verily believe that it was me ; but be 
 assured that the opposite party is convinced that I 
 know nothing about it; and that it thinks, by its in- 
 vestigations, to shelter itself from suspicion. 
 
 " I do not wish to occupy myself any more about
 
 125 
 
 it : I am become weak on this subject : I here lose 
 all my faculties : I have scarcely any more memory 
 or understanding ; nothing remains but a will, which, 
 if it was free, would soon conduct me to the arms of 
 my tender mother, and my beloved Edward. 
 
 " I have often seen people here; Inspectors-Gene- 
 ral, Prefects, officers of every rank, and curious people, 
 who come expressly to see Madame Manson ; and who 
 return, doubtless, little satisfied. You know, my dear 
 mother, that our Prefect intimidates me much: I long 
 believed that my embarrassment arose from the con- 
 duct I observed with him. When he speaks to me, I 
 am so foolish I can scarcely answer him. He came one 
 day with M. de Gazes, the Prefect of Albi, brother of 
 his Excellency, the Minister- General of the Police. 
 Your daughter had on that day a double fit of awk- 
 wardness. It was impossible for me to articulate a 
 single word so long as these gentlemen remained in 
 my prison. The discourse which M. de Gazes held 
 with me, was little likely to make me regain speech ; 
 he told me ( one of three things : you will be pur- 
 sued as an accomplice, as a false witness, or else 
 shut up as a mad person.' See precisely how it 
 happened that your daughter became mute. 
 
 " I remained petrified ; but that was not all. M. 
 d'Estourmel charged my jailer to tell me something 
 which this latter could not make me comprehend : I 
 thought that the Prefect of Albi wished to speak to 
 me 5 in consequence, I wrote to our Prefect that I 
 was always ready to hear M. de Gazes, and should 
 think myself much honoured by his presence. I had 
 doubtless, written in the style of a school girl ; but as
 
 126 
 
 I have no more the appearance of one, I did not 
 stand excused. I was told that ray letter extremely 
 shocked the Prefect of Albi, who had answered, f it is 
 done in a trice.' 1 racked my brains to comprehend 
 what this meant to say ; I could not arrive at it. It 
 is always perfectly clear that my design is not, was 
 not, and never will be to deceive any person. I 
 shall, nevertheless, pay dear for an involuntary fault; 
 the least which can befal me, will be to die with fear 
 at Albi, on seeing M. de Gazes. 
 
 " After having passed two months in the jailer's 
 house, where I was ruined, because my expenses ex- 
 ceeded my income, I demanded a room and obtained 
 it. By a singular chance I occupied the cell of the 
 famous father Chabot, where so many horrible con- 
 spiracies were framed ; the ladies Jausion and Gal- 
 tier had inhabited the same apartment during their 
 detention ; but they were less to be pitied than my- 
 self: they mutually consoled each other; they had a 
 child ; they had no gratings. You will know, mam- 
 ma, that I am indebted for those of my windows to 
 the gallantry of my jailer, and to the care which he 
 takes of my health ; he pretends that I am so cun- 
 ning, that there is no means of trusting me, and that 
 if I had a mind to see my Edward, a height of thirty 
 feet would not stop me ; and that I should descend 
 by the casement at the risk of breaking my neck. 
 
 " He is always afraid of committing himself; he 
 fears especially that I should have letters pass un- 
 known to him. I have almost a mind to write to 
 
 M , solely to prove to him that bolts and bars 
 
 it is useless to finish it, you know the rhyme. There
 
 127 
 
 is nothing that makes me more impatient, than to 
 hear it said to me unceasingly ; what are you doing 
 here? break your chains, it depends upon yourself. 
 Can it enter into a reasonable head that a woman, 
 (and a woman of my character), remains for pleasure 
 in the cell of a Capucin ? one must have a very sin- 
 gular taste 1 ( Go your ways,' say they, 'your place 
 is not in prison.' s Oh! ' say I, ' it is seldom in this 
 world, that any one occupies the place which suits 
 them ; I shall always have this advantage, that no- 
 body will come to dispute mine with me.' 
 
 " f A pretty honour,' says another to me, ' to see 
 you at Albi, on the bench of the accused, seated be- 
 tween Bastide and Jausion ? ' ' Ah, well ! Is not our 
 Saviour placed between two thieves? and their crimes 
 were doubtless proved otherwise than by the testi- 
 mony of some nervous attacks.' The Jews did not 
 know what the vapours were ; so I doubt if Mesmer 
 would have made his fortune amongst them. A pro- 
 pos, do you not know that they wished to try mag- 
 netism with me, in order to make me tell my secret ? 
 but as this operation was also a secret, and as nothing 
 is done secretly at Rodez, my magnetising has been 
 adjourned. 
 
 " No, my dear mamma, nothing is done secretly 
 at Rodez, except the murder of the unhappy Fualdes. 
 I tremble at the idea that perhaps some innocent per- 
 son will be sacrificed. What a horrible mystery ! If 
 I am included in the accusation, I wish for no coun- 
 sel ; I should be sorry to owe my safety to his elo- 
 quence. I will myself plead my cause j and after 
 having acquired the appellation of a singular witness,
 
 128 
 
 the public will perhaps call me still more singular as 
 an accused person. 
 
 " You know, my dear mother, the system of a 
 modern author, your dear countryman,* a great 
 metaphysician, a more astonishing logician, who 
 refuses to allow women a reasonable soul ; but as 
 there is scarcely an animal whose instinct does not 
 lead him to defend himself when he sees himself at- 
 tacked, I am going to endeavour to make use of the 
 feeble means that nature has given me for that pur- 
 pose. I will answer him some day, and if they ac- 
 cuse me of having been divorced from good sense, I 
 will console myself with the idea that I am not the 
 only one. f 
 
 " I have just made an amiable acquaintance, it is 
 a young man from Paris, who has had the kindness 
 to come and see me in my prison ; he has much 
 wished to take charge of my Memoir, and has pushed 
 his complaisance so far as to travel over eight leagues 
 of our country to carry it to you ; without him I 
 should not have had the means of bringing this volu- 
 minous epistle within your reach. 
 
 " I am very little inclined to secrecy, and not a line 
 of it goes out without being verified by the Minister 
 for public affairs, who has the oftenest made profit 
 of it at my expense ; but all that does not correct 
 me, I write every thing that comes into my headj 
 and whilst they are deliberating on the liberty of the 
 press, I give every latitude to my pen. 
 
 * * 
 
 * Monsieur de Bonald. 
 
 t Monsieur de Bonald has written a book on Divorce.
 
 139 
 
 w Mr. Clemendot is confined in a fort. It has been 
 reported here, that he had written to me, this is still 
 a new proof of the coin of Rodez. The letter which 
 I have received, and which is said to be from him (as 
 if there was nobody but M. Clemendot who knew 
 how to write) is from that M. Lamire, of whom I have 
 spoken to you, and who is assuredly a little more 
 polite than the aid-de-camp of M. de Wautre. 
 
 " I am going to perish from ennui 3 here is the end 
 of my memoir, I have nothing more to do, my em- 
 broidery fatigues me, and does not distract my 
 thoughts. I have almost entirely lost my voice. 
 They wiH no more compare me to saint; Huberti ! I 
 can no longer sing, and I have besides but little re- 
 lish for it what a state of incertitude ! It is near 
 three months since I was arrested, I do not yet know 
 if I shall be brought to judgment. What will they 
 do with me ? I have not killed M. Fualdes. I did 
 not know that they wanted to kill him, I should 
 have told him so very soon. Yet I have undergone 
 twelve interrogations, three of which have lasted eight 
 hours. I do not take into the account my conferences 
 with the Prefect, and those with my father, where 
 shall I leave them then : I have lost the account of 
 them. 
 
 " Last Thursday, the council assembled here, to de- 
 cide on my fate. I am ignorant what are the conclu- 
 sions of the King's, Attorney, and the judgment of 
 the court; but, my God ! they do not judge here in 
 the last appeal : the proceedings which concern me, 
 must pass through the hands of the Attorney General 
 of the court of Montpellier, from thence they will 
 
 K
 
 130 
 
 again go to Toulouse, and then they will be sent to my 
 Lord Keeper of the Seals. I am just addressing a 
 petition to his Excellency; judge how it will be re- 
 ceived ; I a poor country-woman, who have passed 
 my life amongst geese and turkeys, to take upon 
 myself to write to a great lord. 
 
 " I repent of it at this very moment : my letter 
 will not even be read.* These are nearly the terms 
 in which it is conceived j ' My lord, will your Ex- 
 cellency deign to permit, that a wretched prisoner 
 should dare to address herself to you, and may she 
 hope to be favourably received by you ? Will the 
 chief of justice be offended, if I come to claim it from 
 him, in order that it may be rendered to me ? I am 
 without protection, my lord, without defence, without 
 support ; and my sole recommendations with your 
 Excellency, are in your own sentiments of humanity 
 and love for the public good. 
 
 " I am ignorant what language one makes use of 
 with the great ; I am accustomed to speak that of the 
 heart. The minister of a Bourbon cannot be un- 
 mindful of it : I ought not to employ any other with 
 his Excellency. There is no example, in the annals 
 of justice, of a witness so persecuted as myself. The 
 trial of M. Fualdes is an obscure labyrinth, the thread 
 of which every body has demanded from me, and 
 
 * Madam Manson opines badly of the ministerial solicitude : the 
 idea that she occasioned perhaps some actual embarrassment caused 
 by the legislative discussions has awakened her distrust. We have had 
 the honour ourselves to deliver in a private audience, her letter to 
 my Lord Keeper of the Seals, who read it with feeling and with 
 interest.
 
 131 
 
 every body knows as much of it, and many perhaps 
 more, than I do. I am tormented by the two par- 
 ties at once. That of M. Fualdes cries for venge- 
 ance, and accuses me of wishing to save the guilty ; 
 and the contrary party, well aware that I shall say 
 nothing, because I know nothing, assails me still 
 more vigorously. 
 
 " I am a victim, sacrificed I know not to whom ; 
 I am not aware of my enemies. No, my Lord, I am 
 not the woman that was shut up at BancaPs ; and by 
 a chain of circumstances difficult to believe, I have 
 been brought to say that I was this woman ; such is 
 the nature of the fears which I have experienced, 
 such is the impression which they have produced 
 upon my mind, that I have preferred to pass for an 
 infamous prostitute, sooner than to see them realised. 
 
 <( Let not your Excellency reproach me for my 
 conduct at the sitting of the 22d of August; if the 
 proceedings had not been annulled, I should have 
 myself offered my head it ought to fall. It matters 
 not that my crime was involuntary ; the consequences 
 of it would have been too dreadful, and I am a strik- 
 ing example of the dangers of conviction. 
 
 " If your Excellency knew all the proceedings of 
 the fatal sitting of the 22d ! If you knew in what 
 state was the unfortunate person who has the hardi- 
 hood to address these lines to you, and to implore 
 your commiseration ! I am accused at present of 
 being an accomplice in the most horrible of crimes; 
 the testimony of my conscience re- assures me, death 
 does not alarm me, my Lord; I have known how to 
 "brave it in 1793; I was then very young, my parents
 
 132 
 
 were arrested, I partook of their lot, and if they had 
 perished on the scaffold, I would have mounted it 
 with them. In the situation into which I am fallen, 
 death would be a relief to me; with it would finish 
 the terrors of life. But to lose liberty, to live for ever 
 separated from all that is most dear to me, to be de- 
 prived of the embraces of my son ! Ah ! my Lord, if 
 you judge me guilty, do not punish me thus, you 
 could not invent a more dreadful sentence. 
 
 " I will go, if it is necessary, into a remote coun- 
 try, to hide my sorrows, not my remorse. I leave 
 riches to those who make much of them, there is but 
 one blessing for me ; I hold it from nature, it should 
 depend upon her alone to deprive me of it. Let your 
 Excellency design to excuse the despair of a mother. 
 I am alone in my prison j horrible grates, triple 
 doors separate me from the rest of mortals, and they 
 repeat to me without ceasing : f your fate is in your 
 own hands, it depends on yourself to break your 
 chains/ What do they wish to make me say ? that 
 which I do not know, that which I felicitate myself 
 on not knowing. 
 
 " Oh ! take pity on me, my lord ; they have 
 threatened to send me to Paris : had it pleased God 
 that your Excellency had wished to take the trouble of 
 occupying yourself with my affairs, and of hearing me, 
 I would not have spoke but the exact truth ; ought I 
 to expect being sent to the Inquisition, under the 
 reign of the best of kings? and you, my lord, the 
 worthy minister of his will, should I in vain implore 
 your justice? may my voice penetrate even to your 
 Excellency : all the world is ignorant that I have
 
 153 
 
 taken the liberty of addressing myself to you, but for 
 that I should not have offered to your sight such bad 
 penmanship as mine. I dare hope that you will par- 
 don me, as well as the boldness with which I have ex- 
 pressed myself, and that you will have some consi- 
 deration for my just complaints. 
 
 " Accept, my lord, the homage of the most pro- 
 found respect and of the highest consideration." 
 
 " Oh ! my dear mother, if I could see his Majesty 
 Louis XVII I. and the august daughter of the unfortu- 
 nate Marie Antoinette and of Louis XVI., whom we 
 have so often wept for together ! The 21st of January 
 is always most sorrowful to me. I can never forget 
 the anniversary of the most dreadful of events. 
 
 " I am just tracing some verses on the walls of my 
 chamber ; I certainly should leave some marks of re- 
 membrance to my successor ; I invite him to arm 
 himself with patience, it is a thing with which one 
 cannot dispense here. I forewarn him that the grates 
 are of new iron ; the door triple ; that both are diffi- 
 cult to pass ; that one finds here neither files or chi- 
 sels -, for the jailer is a prudent man. 
 
 " The trial of M. Fualdes will be judged, they say, 
 the 5th of February : that is, two months hence. The 
 proceedings will last fully another month. It is now 
 two months since I saw my son, which will make it 
 near six. This is speaking to me of eternity itself. 
 Every evening I say to myself, ' a day again passed 
 and lost to happiness, since I have not embraced my 
 Edward.' Life is so short, all its moments so pre- 
 cious; and we are often condemned to pass a part of 
 it far from the objects which are dear to us. With
 
 what passion have I desired to have children. I re- 
 collect having said one day that I should like better 
 to have a dozen of them, than not to have any : and 
 this title of mother causes all my torments! It is 
 happy to be void of nice feeling : one has few enjoy- 
 ments, but one is not sensible to pains; and how 
 greatly do they exceed the number of pleasures ! 
 
 " I often see little children of the age of mine pass- 
 ing by, but it is not my Edward. A sorrowful fore- 
 boding sometimes tells me, that I may see him no 
 more; my dreams represent him to me always dead 
 or dying yet a good God knows well that I cannot 
 support this misfortune. This idea reassures me. 
 
 " I have his cradle constantly near my bed, but he 
 is not there. Amiable little creature, if we never 
 meet again, what will be the power that can sepa- 
 rate us ? 
 
 " You shall no more reproach me, my dear mother, 
 with sleeping too long : I lie down always after mid- 
 night, and do not sleep till -about four o'clock in the 
 morning, and yet rise early. I have every night a 
 fit of fever : they wish to give me medicine ; but 
 I do not incline to take any remedy; and I would 
 distrust Hippocrates in curing me : they will not 
 destroy the evil, so long as the cause exists. The 
 sole specific for mine, would be the sight of my son, 
 and my liberty. 
 
 " I have gained one thing in prison ; that was 
 just; I have lost so many others in it : I have no 
 more fear of ghosts; you shall not laugh at me any 
 more. 
 
 " The fair of December must have been very fine ; 

 
 135 
 
 I have seen a vast number of people pass on the great 
 road. Nobody has come to see me to-day. I wished 
 to purchase a drum for my little boy; I have not had 
 any opportunity to do it : but I shall send one to 
 him. 
 
 " How many obligations have I to you, my dear 
 mother ! I owe you my life, and that of my son. 
 Without you, without your tender cares, my Edward 
 would not exist, he would have died before having 
 seen the day. And now again, that he is suffering 
 and wounded, that by an imprudence he was very 
 near breaking his arm j* what would become of me, 
 if I did not know he was under your eyes ? Ah! if 
 nature has produced some monsters, she has formed 
 also sensible souls, which make us forget them. 
 
 " Adieu, my dear mother ; make the little angel 
 pray for me. I call to mind always with much emo- 
 tion, a prayer which I heard him make in the church 
 of our Lady ; he did not think that I was paying at- 
 tention to him, and he said ; ' my God, grant me the 
 favour of being a very wise man s heal mamma Enjal- 
 ran y and take away sorrow from mamma Clarisse.' 
 
 (t How can one prevent adoring so interesting a 
 child, and particularly when one is the mother of it ? 
 But, my poor Edward, he will be unfortunate. The 
 fatality which pursues me, attaches to all whom I 
 love, to all who take interest in me. I am more ter- 
 rible than Pandora; I spread abroad all kind of evil, 
 and have not a hope. 
 
 " Adieu, my son, my sole blessing, my only con- 
 
 * The child's arm was actually sprained by a fall, during his mo- 
 ther's captivity.
 
 136 
 
 solation; adieu, my good mother, I take leave of 
 you. May this memoir serve to dissipate your 
 thoughts ! may you find in it some alleviation of your 
 pains ! my Edward will read it one day ; but he will 
 never have an idea of the torments, which he has 
 caused to his unfortunate mother : the heart of man 
 does not feel these things like ours. 
 
 " Melancholy possesses me: the future offers me 
 nothing happy; above all, if I judge of it by the past. 
 I am just demanding a priest. I perceive that my 
 courage abandons me : there are moments in which I 
 lose sight of my religion : I forget every thing, ex- 
 cept my mother and my child."
 
 NOTE. 
 
 WE think it our duty to place here for those of our Readers, who, 
 since the annulling of the trial at Rodez, have not followed the 
 detail of the divers incidents of the new proceedings, a rapid expo- 
 sition of the principal facts. 
 
 Immediately after the pronouncing of the sentence, which con- 
 demned to death Bastide, Jausion, Colard, Bax, and the woman 
 Bancal ; Anne Benoit and Missonnier, to forced labour for life ; 
 Bousquier, to one year's imprisonment, and a fine of fifty franks ; 
 Madame Manson, having a warrant served on her, was arrested, 
 and conducted to prison on the 14th September. 
 
 It is in a religious commonalty, in the cell of a monk, too 
 famous for his revolutionary excesses, that the time passed, which 
 separates the assizes of FAveyron from those of Tarn. The suit 
 instituted against her, as suspected of false testimony, has been 
 Followed up by the cares of M. Bertrandi, one of the judges of the 
 Civil Tribunal at Rodez ; this wise and skilful magistrate, has 
 known how to associate in his communications with the prisoner, 
 the rigorous obligation of his ministry, with those considerations of 
 condescension and humanity ordained by her sex, and her sorrow- 
 ful situation. 
 
 The Tribunal of Rodez, having taken cognizance of her suit, 
 the papers respecting the proceedings were sent to Montpellier, 
 about the 28th of November last, and this Court decided on the 
 7th of the following month, that Madame Manson should be judged 
 at the approaching assizes at Rodez. 
 
 An act of the Supreme Court has decided it otherwise: the 
 Moniteur of the 21st December, publishes the following detail. 
 
 " A decision of the Royal Court of Montpellier, imputing to 
 Madame Manson the charge of false testimony, had ordained, that 
 this lady should be brought before the assizes of TAveyron. The
 
 138 
 
 Attorney General being provided against this decision by the sta- 
 tute of the Judges, has demanded that the affair shall be brought 
 before the assizes at Albi, looking to their connexion with the acr 
 cusation relative to the murder of M. Fualdes. The Court of 
 repeal, in the criminal division, on the report of Mr. Buschop the 
 counsel, and the arguments of M. Giraud, the advocate general 
 has accepted this demand, and sent back Madame Manson, before 
 the court of assizes at Albi/' 
 
 During the course of these successive events, the suspected per- 
 sons upon whom the most heavy charges of the accusation seem 
 to weigh, have made an effort to withdraw themselves from justice. 
 We shall make an abstract of a letter, which was addressed to us 
 from Rodez, at the time by our correspondent.* This letter wa$ 
 also printed in the 346th number of the Gazette of France, of the 
 12th of December. 
 
 On the night of the 3rd and 4th December, the twenty-three 
 prisoners confined in the house of the Cordeliers, made an attempt 
 to escape. Jausion and Bastide were the only ones in this prison, 
 who were included in the trial for the murder of M. Fualdes : the 
 rest of their companions are condemned for theft. Bax, Missonnier, 
 Colard, and Bancal, are, as it is known, in the convent of the 
 Capucins. 
 
 For a long time past, Bastide assiduously occupied himself in 
 making hampers with trusses of straw, and his wife preserved the 
 power of seeing and of speaking to him, through the grates before 
 the prison. 
 
 " Ah ! well !" said he, one day to her, " I send you frequently 
 about my work, and propose to continue it." " Do not, however, 
 make hampers, without end," said she, " the house is already full of 
 them." " I will make you, then, a warming basket (a piece of fur- 
 niture, to dry linen at the hearth). Besides," continued he, " in 
 
 * We published under the title of the Parisian's Stenograph, in numbers, of a 
 sheet of letter press, with engraving*, a correspondence from Rodez, on each 
 event worthy of interest, which has lately attached to this celebrated cause ; 
 the fifth number has just appeared, price forty centimes, at Fillet's, at Parit. 
 It may be bought, the price, for 12 numbers, four francs, and fifty centimes at 
 Paris, and five francs for the departments. 
 
 N. B. An engraving representing the Children of Bancal at the almonry at 
 Rodez, will accompany the sixth number.
 
 
 my prison is a young man, a fisherman by trade, I wish him to teach 
 me to make nets ; I should be charmed to be able to catch some fish 
 one day. Send me some cord and some wicker." 
 
 Madame Bastide sent what her husband desired. They made 
 no difficulty in allowing him to have it. Now all the prisoners 
 commenced making bands of straw ; Bastide, as chief workman, 
 distributed the packthread, and paid a sou for each web of a cer- 
 tain length. 
 
 The jailer then suspected some mystery. He observed, what 
 an enormous consumption was made of cord, and besides the straw 
 which he furnished, that of the beds commenced to be secretly em- 
 ployed. He redoubled his vigilance, passed four nights without 
 sleeping, ana advertised the Mayor. 
 
 The Mayor wished to put the prisoners in irons; the jailer 
 named Canitrot, a devoted and indefatigable man, demanded that 
 they might be left to act, in order to catch them in a flagrant crime, 
 and that he would be answerable for every event. They consented 
 to it; he forewarned the gendarmerie, who were posted as centinels. 
 
 " The conspiracy advanced. On the 3rd, at half past nine in 
 the evening, the prisoners were silent, affected to sleep, and even 
 to snore, and pursued their work in darkness. 
 
 At midnight they opened and entered abruptly the large 
 dungeon in which they were confined ; they found them all up ex- 
 cept Jausion, and a ladder of 30 feet long was finished. 
 
 They meditated their flight by an opening formerly practica- 
 ble in a wall, about four toises in height, and badly stopped up 
 with masonry, prom thence they were to re-alight on a roof, then 
 on another, leap over the wall of an inclosure, and find themselves 
 in the open country, on a side which they have neglected to cause 
 to be watched, since the proceedings at Rodez have been annulled. 
 
 The ladder is skilfully enough constructed. The stanchions are 
 formed by a bundle of ten or twelve trusses bound together by 
 knots fastened by cords, and the steps are strongly attached with 
 wicker. An old iron hook, resting by chance in a wall, was to 
 have served for fixing the ladder. 
 
 Jausion was found in his bed, and seems to have taken no part 
 in the projected escape. No one doubts, that from this circum- 
 stance, which will aggravate the criminality of Bastide, Jausion 
 seeks to argue in favour of his innocence.
 
 140 
 
 Bastide had already a portmanteau attached to his shoulder, 
 like the wallet of a soldier: he at first wished to regain his bed, but 
 he was not able to effect it. 
 
 "Where are you going then, M. Dognat?" said the Lieutenant of 
 the gendarmerie to him, "you are not ignorant, sir" he replied, " that 
 I have some business ; they retain me a long time here, and my small 
 fortune suffers by it. I was going to Gros to see my wife : I should then 
 have repaired to Albi, the day before the opening of the assizes" 
 
 It is pretended, that they heard him say to one of the criminals, 
 who was to escort him, at the moment when they were in readiness 
 to raise the ladder ; " do not, at least, forget to take away my little 
 looking glass." This care appeared strange under .such circum- 
 stances. 
 
 The chains were placed immediately on Bastide, and on most 
 of the accomplices in his design. At the moment in which I am 
 writing to you, the ladder is exposed before the exterior gate of the 
 prison, and all the town is going to see it. 
 
 We finish by mentioning the names of the magistrates, who 
 will have to pronounce finally on the cause so greatly prolonged, of 
 the murder of M. Fualdes, and who are to compose for this purpose, 
 the court of assizes at Albi, convoked by order t of my Lord Keeper 
 of the Stals, for the 5th February, 1818. President, M. le Chevalier 
 de FajMel. 
 
 Judges M. M. le Baron de Cambon ; le Vicomte Combette de 
 Caumont, Pagon, Pinaud, all Counsellors of the Royal Court of 
 Toulouse ; M. M. Gary and Charlet, the one Attorney General of the 
 same Court, the other deputy, will fill the functions of the minister 
 for public affairs. M. M. Lafon, Vice President, and Taillefer de 
 la Portaliere, judge in the first instance of the Court of Albi, are 
 named as supernumeraries. 
 
 M. Romiguiere will continue to defend Bastide. M. Dubernat, 
 Advocate of Toulouse, will defend Jausion. Madame Manson de- 
 fends herself. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 J.M'Crecry, Printer, 
 BUck-Hono-Court, London.
 
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