CH. VII.] AGE OF LOUIS QUATORZE. 289 he now takes his counsel aside to settle with him the amount of his fees; and it is not without an effort that he grudgingly gives him the sum which the royal ordinance permits him to receive. M. Berryer then follows him to his home surrounded by his family, where he prepares in the evening his speech for the morrow; or indulges himself, like Pasquier, in sportive toying with the muse, or takes up his pen, like Pithou, to defend the liberties of the Gallican church. The feeling of hereditary pride which these gens de robe took in their vocation was that which Dandin in Les Plaideurs expresses, when he upbraids his son in the following lines: Ma robe vous fait honte. Un fils de juge! ah, fi! Qu'est-ce qu'un gentilhomme? Un pilier d'antichambre. The reign of Louis XIV. was a brilliant period for the French bar, if we may judge by the reputation and eminence which some of the most gifted advocates attained. Here I can hardly do more than cite their names; for it would require a volume of itself to give biographical sketches of them, and criticise in detail the numerous speeches which have been preserved as monuments of their eloquence and ability. Those who were best known in after times are the two Talons, Omer and Denys, father and son, each advocate-general in the parliament of Paris, and the latter one of its presidents;-of whom M. Berryer says with truth, that posterity has placed them both in the rank of the greatest magistrates of France1; also Lemaistre, Patru, Fourcroy, Erard, Gillet, Pelisson 2, the steadfast friend and illustrious defender of the fallen minister Fouquet; Lenoble, Terrasson, Nivelle, and D'Aguesseau. Nivelle was engaged in some of the most celebrated trials of the seventeenth century; but none perhaps excited so much public attention and interest as that of which the reader may be not unwilling to peruse a short account, as it is one of the causes célèbres of Europe, and Nivelle was counsel for the prisoner. Who has not heard of the Marchioness de Brinvilliers? In the annals of crime she has gained a terrible name as the Great Poisoner. The story of her life is more like a romance than a reality, and part of her guilt is shrouded in a veil of darkness which, at this distance of time, it is impossible to penetrate. In order to understand the defence attempted by her advocate, let us briefly review the facts with which he had to deal. Marie Marguerite d'Aubray was the daughter of M. d'Aubray, who held the office of lieutenant civil at Paris. Her eyes were remarkable for their soft and gentle expression, and she was distinguished by her personal beauty as well as the charms of her conversation, which shone in the brilliant society of Paris in the early part of the reign of Louis XIV. She had two brothers and one sister, and in 1651 was married to the Marquis de Brinvilliers, the possessor of ample wealth, and to whom she brought a fortune of 200,000 livres. No alliance could have been formed under brighter auspices-none ever led to a more deplorable catastrophe. At the end of a year 1 Modèles de l'Eloq. Judiciaire. ? Pelisson's face, like that of Wilkes, was remarkable for its ugliness. In allusion to this, Madame de Sévigné said, " Il est bien laid, mais qu'on le dédouble, et l'on trouvera une belle âme." CH. VII.] BRINVILLIERS, THE GREAT POISONER. 291 after their marriage the affection of the Marquis for his wife seemed to lessen, and she imagined, perhaps not without reason, that she was treated with neglect. He was maître de camp in the regiment of Normandy, and while in service had formed an acquaintance with a cavalry officer named Godin, or Sainte-Croix, as he was generally called-the natural son of some man of rank; but the secret of his birth was never divulged. Under the mask of a pleasing exterior he concealed the villainy of his character, and being invited by the Marquis to his house, he became there a favourite inmate. He watched the conduct of the wedded pair, and soon observed the discontent of the Marchioness. It is needless to detail the arts by which he inspired her with a passion for himself. The result was, that the liaison became too manifest to escape the eyes of others, although, as is too often the case, the injured party himself, the husband, remained in ignorance of it. M. d'Aubray had been for some time absent; but on his return he was informed of the disgrace which had fallen on his family. The aged father immediately sought his daughter, and on his knees implored her to abandon a connection which was fraught with infamy. She repelled him from her, and retorted by upbraiding him with suffering her to be neglected by her husband. M. d'Aubray then threatened her with the exercise of his magisterial authority, and bade her tremble at the consequence of disobedience. "Trembler! elle ! la Marquise de Brinvilliers! Pauvre père! "1 Soon afterwards the affairs of the Marquis, who was dissipated and extravagant, fell into disorder, and the Marchioness eagerly seized this opportunity to demand a divorce. But she did not wholly succeed in her 1 M. de Berryer. object; for the court pronounced judgment in favour of separation of property only, and the marital rights of the husband in other respects remained untouched. She, however, no longer sought to conceal her shame, but lived openly with Sainte-Croix, who had even the effrontery to call himself her husband. M. d'Aubray had now recourse to summary measures. He obtained a lettre de cachet, and Sainte-Croix was arrested and confined in the Bastile. He there found a companion in a fellow-prisoner, named Exili, an Italian, who was an expert chemist, and who instructed SainteCroix in the horrible art of preparing secret and deadly poisons. At the expiration of a year both he and Exili were released from prison, and, armed with the terrible power of life and death, he lost no time in renewing his connection with the Marchioness; but his conduct was now marked with more circumspection. How soon, or in what manner, she consented to become his pupil in the infernal trade of murder we know not; but there is every reason to believe that in the hospitals of Paris, which she visited under the pretence of charity, she tried upon the miserable inmates the effect of the poisons with which Sainte-Croix furnished her. And ere long she made an experiment upon the life of a young servant girl, named Françoise Roussel; but the dose was not sufficiently powerful, and the victim did not die, though her health was ruined for ever. Her next attempt was more successful. While on a visit to her father at his country seat at Offemont, she mixed some poison in his soup, and having offered it to him with her own hand, he took it and died soon after. His death excited no suspicion, and she was now hardened in crime. In order to possess herself of the whole of the fortune of her own family, that she might CH. VII.] THE FATAL CASKET. 293 squander it upon her guilty paramour, she resolved to destroy them all, and she poisoned both her brothers, the younger of whom was a member of the court of parliament at Paris. About the same time she attempted the life of her only sister, but, for some unknown reason, on this occasion she failed. Hitherto her career had been one of triumphant villainy; but retribution was at hand. While engaged in his laboratory on some dangerous experiments with poisons, the glass mask which Sainte-Croix used to wear over his face happened to drop off, and he fell dead on the floor. The commissary of police was sent for, who immediately sealed up his effects; and afterwards, on making an inventory of them, there was found attached to a small casket a slip of paper, on which was written a most urgent request that the person into whose hands it might fall after Sainte-Croix's death would transmit the contents to the Marchioness de Brinvilliers, as they were entirely her property or would, in case she was not then living, immediately burn the casket and its contents without opening it. The paper concluded with a solemn adjuration addressed to the finder, and was signed "SainteCroix." The casket was opened, and was found to contain a number of small packets carefully sealed, and enclosing sublimate - also a square phial filled with a colourless liquid; and twenty-seven pieces of paper, on each of which was written "plusieurs secrets importants."1 It is curious and interesting to see how completely the chemists of that day were at fault in attempting to analyse these poisons. In a report which was prepared by those who were appointed to make the requisite experiments they say, This artificial poison baffles all our researches. It is so disguised that we cannot recognize it, 66 so subtle that it mocks the art and skill of practitioners. In water the poison is precipitated without dissolving; if put into the fire it leaves only an acrid substance behind. . . . The poison of Sainte-Croix has been submitted to ... |