Karl Ludwig Sand ...............................................................................................................................................1

On the 22nd of March, 1819, about nine o'clock in the morning, a young man, some twentythree or

twentyfour years old, wearing the dress of a German student, which consists of a short frockcoat with silk

braiding, tight trousers, and high boots, paused upon a little eminence that stands upon the road between

Kaiserthal and Mannheim, at about threequarters of the distance from the former town, and commands a

view of the latter. Mannheim is seen rising calm and smiling amid gardens which once were ramparts, and

which now surround and embrace it like a girdle of foliage and flowers. Having reached this spot, he lifted

his cap, above the peak of which were embroidered three interlaced oak leaves in silver, and uncovering his

brow, stood bareheaded for a moment to feel the fresh air that rose from the valley of the Neckar. At first

sight his irregular features produced a strange impression; but before long the pallor of his face, deeply

marked by smallpox, the infinite gentleness of his eyes, and the elegant framework of his long and flowing

black hair, which grew in an admirable curve around a broad, high forehead, attracted towards him that

emotion of sad sympathy to which we yield without inquiring its reason or dreaming of resistance. Though it

was still early, he seemed already to have come some distance, for his boots were covered with dust; but no

doubt he was nearing his destination, for, letting his cap drop, and hooking into his belt his long pipe, that

inseparable companion of the German Borsch, he drew from his pocket a little notebook, and wrote in it

with a pencil: "Left Wanheim at five in the morning, came in sight of Mannheim at a quarterpast nine."

Then putting his notebook back into his pocket, he stood motionless for a moment, his lips moving as

though in mental prayer, picked up his hat, and walked on again with a firm step towards Mannheim.

This young Student was KarlLudwig Sand, who was coming from Jena, by way of Frankfort aid Darmstadt,

Now, as we are about to set before our readers one of those terrible actions for the true appreciation of which

the conscience is the sole judge, they must allow us to make them fully acquainted with him whom kings

regarded as an assassin, judges as a fanatic, and the youth of Germany as a hero. Charles Louis Sand was

born on the 5th of October, 1795, at Wonsiedel, in the Fichtel Wald.; he was the youngest son of Godfrey

Christopher Sand, first president and councillor of justice to the King of Prussia, and of Dorothea Jane

Wilheltmina Schapf, his wife. Besides two elder brothers, George, who entered upon a commercial career at

St, Gall, and Fritz, who was an advocate in the Berlin court of appeal, he had an elder sister named Caroline,

While still in the cradle he had been attacked by smallpox of the most malignant type. The virus having

spread through all his body, laid bare his ribs, and almost ate away his skull. For several months he lay

between life and death; but life at last gained the upper hand. He remained weak and sickly, however, up to

his seventh year, at which time a brain fever attacked him; and again put his life in danger. As a

compensation, however, this fever, when it left him, seemed to carry away with it all vestiges of his former

illness. >From that moment his health and strength came into existence; but during these two long illnesses

his education had remained very backward, and it was not until the age of eight that he could begin his

elementary studies; moreover, his physical sufferings having retarded his intellectual development, he needed

Seeing the efforts that young Sand made, even while still quite a child, to conquer the defects of his

organisation, Professor Salfranck, a learned and distinguished man, rector of the Hof gymnasium [college],

conceived such an affection for him, that when, at a later time, he was appointed director of the gymnasium at

Ratisbon, he could not part from his pupil, and took him with him. In this town, and at the age of eleven

years, he gave the first proof of his courage and humanity. One day, when he was walking with some young

friends, he heard cries for help, and ran in that direction: a little boy, eight or nine years old, had just fallen

into a pond. Sand immediately, without regarding his best clothes, of which, however, he was very proud,

sprang into the water, and, after unheardof efforts for a child of his age, succeeded in bringing the drowning

At the age of twelve or thirteen, Sand, who had become more active, skilful, and determined than many of his

elders, often amused himself by giving battle to the lads of the town and of the neighbouring villages. The

theatre of these childish conflicts, which in their pale innocence reflected the great battles that were at that

time steeping Germany in blood, was generally a plain extending from the town of Wonsiedel to the

mountain of St. Catherine, which had ruins at its top, and amid the ruins a tower in excellent preservation.

Sand, who was one of the most eager fighters, seeing that his side had several times been defeated on account

of its numerical inferiority, resolved, in order to make up for this drawback, to fortify the tower of St.

Catherine, and to retire into it at the next battle if its issue proved unfavourable to him. He communicated this

plan to his companions, who received it with enthusiasm. A week was spent, accordingly, in collecting all

possible weapons of defence in the tower and in repairing its doors and stairs. These preparations were made

Sunday came: the holidays were the days of battle. Whether because the boys were ashamed of having been

beaten last time, or for some other reason, the band to which Sand belonged was even weaker than usual.

Sure, however, of a means of retreat, he accepted battle, notwithstanding. The struggle was not a long one;

the one party was too weak in numbers to make a prolonged resistance, and began to retire in the best order

that could be maintained to St. Catherine's tower, which was reached before much damage had been felt.

Having arrived there, some of the combatants ascended to the ramparts, and while the others defended

themselves at the foot of the wall, began to shower stones and pebbles upon the conquerors. The latter,

surprised at the new method of defence which was now for the first time adopted, retreated a little; the rest of

the defenders took advantage of the moment to retire into the fortress and shut the door. Great was the

astonishment an the part of the besiegers: they had always seen that door broken down, and lo! all at once it

was presenting to them a barrier which preserved the besieged from their blows. Three or four went off to

find instruments with which to break it down and meanwhile the rest of the attacking farce kept the garrison

At the end of half an hour the messengers returned not only with levers and picks, but also with a

considerable reinforcement composed of lads from, the village to which they had been to fetch tools.

Then began the assault: Sand and his companions defended themselves desperately; but it was soon evident

that, unless help came, the garrison would be forced to capitulate. It was proposed that they should draw lots,

and that one of the besieged should be chosen, who in spite of the danger should leave the tower, make his

way as best he might through the enemy's army, and go to summon the other lads of Wonsiedel, who had

faintheartedly remained at home. The tale of the peril in which their Comrades actually were, the disgrace

of a surrender, which would fall upon all of them, would no doubt overcome their indolence and induce them

to make a diversion that would allow the garrison to attempt sortie. This suggestion was adopted; but instead

of leaving the decision to chance, Sand proposed himself as the messenger. As everybody knew his courage,

his skill, and his lightness of foot, the proposition was unanimously accepted, and the new Decius prepared to

execute his act of devotion. The deed was not free from danger: there were but two means of egress, one by

way of the door, which would lead to the fugitive's falling immediately into the hands of the enemy; the other

by jumping from a rampart so high that the enemy had not set a guard there. Sand without a moment's

hesitation went to the rampart, where, always religious, even in his childish pleasures, he made a short prayer;

then, without fear, without hesitation, with a confidence that was almost superhuman, he sprang to the

ground: the distance was twentytwo feet. Sand flew instantly to Wonsiedel, and reached it, although the

enemy had despatched their best runners in pursuit. Then the garrison, seeing the success of their enterprise,

took fresh courage, and united their efforts against the besiegers, hoping everything from Sand's eloquence,

which gave him a great influence over his young companions. And, indeed, in half an hour he was seen

reappearing at the head of some thirty boys of his own age, armed with slings and crossbows. The besiegers,

on the point of being attacked before and behind, recognised the disadvantage of their position and retreated.

The victory remained with Sand's party, and all the honours of the day were his.

We have related this anecdote in detail, that our readers may understand from the character of the child what

was that of the man. Besides, we shall see him develop, always calm and superior amid small events as amid

About the same time Sand escaped almost miraculously from two dangers. One day a hod full of plaster fell

from a scaffold and broke at his feet. Another day the Price of Coburg, who during the King of Prussia's stay

at the baths of Alexander, was living in the house of Sand's parents, was galloping home with four horses

when he came suddenly upon young Karl in a gateway; he could not escape either on the right or the left,

without running the risk of being crushed between the wall and the wheels, and the coachman could not,

when going at such a pace, hold in his horses: Sand flung himself on his face, and the carriage passed over

him without his receiving so much as a single scratch either from the horses or the wheels. From that moment

many people regarded him as predestined, and said that the hand of God was upon him.

Meanwhile political events were developing themselves around the boy, and their seriousness made him a

man before the age of manhood. Napoleon weighed upon Germany like another Sennacherib. Staps had tried

to play the part of Mutius Scaevola, and had died a martyr. Sand was at Hof at that time, and was a student of

the gymnasium of which his good tutor Salfranck was the head. He learned that the man whom he regarded

as the antichrist was to come and review the troops in that town; he left it at once and went home to his

"Because I could not have been in the same town with Napoleon," he answered, "without trying to kill him,

This happened in 1809; Sand was fourteen years old. Peace, which was signed an the 15th of October, gave

Germany some respite, and allowed the young fanatic to resume his studies without being distracted by

political considerations; but in 1811 he was occupied by them again, when he learned that the gymnasium

was to be dissolved and its place taken by a primary school. To this the rector Salfranck was appointed as a

teacher, but instead of the thousand florins which his former appointment brought him, the new one was

worth only five hundred. Karl could not remain in a primary school where he could not continue his

education; he wrote to his mother to announce this event and to tell her with what equanimity the old German

philosopher had borne it. Here is the answer of Sand's mother; it will serve to show the character of the

woman whose mighty heart never belied itself in the midst of the severest suffering; the answer bears the

"MY DEAR KARL,You could not have given me a more grievous piece of news than that of the event

which has just fallen upon your tutor and father by adoption; nevertheless, terrible though it may be, do not

doubt that he will resign himself to it, in order to give to the virtue of his pupils a great example of that

submission which every subject owes to the king wham God has set over him. Furthermore, be well assured

that in this world there is no other upright and well calculated policy than that which grows out of the old

precept, 'Honour God, be just and fear not.' And reflect also that when injustice against the worthy becomes

crying, the public voice makes itself heard, and uplifts those who are cast down.

"But if, contrary to all probability, this did not happen,if God should impose this sublime probation upon

the virtue of our friend, if the world were to disown him and Providence were to became to that, degree his

debtor,yet in that case there are, believe me, supreme compensations: all the things and all the events that

occur around us and that act upon us are but machines set in motion by a Higher Hand, so as to complete our

education for a higher world, in which alone we shall take our true place. Apply yourself, therefore, my dear

child, to watch over yourself unceasingly and always, so that you may not take great and fine isolated actions

for real virtue, and may be ready every moment to do all that your duty may require of you. Fundamentally

nothing is great, you see, and nothing small, when things are, looked at apart from one another, and it is only

"Moreover, God only sends the trial to the heart where He has put strength, and the manner in which you tell

me that your master has borne the misfortune that has befallen him is a fresh proof of this great and eternal

truth. You must form yourself upon him, my dear child, and if you are obliged to leave Hof for Bamberg you

must resign yourself to it courageously. Man has three educations: that which he receives from his parents,

that which circumstances impose upon him, and lastly that which he gives himself; if that misfortune should

occur, pray to God that you may yourself worthily complete that last education, the most important of all.

"I will give you as an example the life and conduct of my father, of whom you have not heard very much, for

he died before you were born, but whose mind and likeness are reproduced in you only among all your

brothers and sisters. The disastrous fire which reduced his native town to ashes destroyed his fortune and that

of his relatives; grief at having lost everythingfor the fire broke out in the next house to hiscost his

father his life; and while his mother, who for six years had been stretched an a bed of pain, where horrible

convulsions held her fast, supported her three little girls by the needlework that she did in the intervals of

suffering, he went as a mere clerk into one of the leading mercantile houses of Augsburg, where his lively

and yet even temper made him welcome; there he learned a calling, for which, however, he was not naturally

adapted, and came back to the home of his birth with a pure and stainless heart, in order to be the support of

"A man can do much when he wishes to do much: join your efforts to my prayers, and leave the rest in the

The prediction of this Puritan woman was fulfilled: a little time afterwards rector Salfranck was appointed

professor at Richembourg, whither Sand followed him; it was there that the events of 1813 found him. In the

"I can scarcely, dear mother, express to you how calm and happy I begin to feel since I am permitted to

believe in the enfranchisement of my country, of which I hear on every side as being so near at hand,of

that country which, in my faith in God, I see beforehand free and mighty, that country for whose happiness I

would undergo the greatest sufferings, and even death. Take strength for this crisis. If by chance it should

reach our good province, lift your eyes to the Almighty, then carry them back to beautiful rich nature. The

goodness of God which preserved and protected so many men during the disastrous Thirty Years' War can do

Leipzig came to justify Sand's presentiments; then the year 1814 arrived, and he thought Germany free.

On the 10th of December in the same year he left Richembourg with this certificate from his master:

"Karl Sand belongs to the small number of those elect young men who are distinguished at once by the gifts

of the mind and the faculties of the soul; in application and work he surpasses all his fellow students, and

this fact explains his rapid progress in all the philosophical and philological sciences; in mathematics only

there are still some further studies which he might pursue. The most affectionate wishes of his teacher follow

"J. A. KEYN, "Rector, and master of the first class. "Richembourg, Sept. 15, 1814"

But it was really the parents of Sand, and in particular his mother, who had prepared the fertile soil in which

his teachers had sowed the seeds of learning; Sand knew this well, for at the moment of setting out for the

university of Tubingen, where he was about to complete the theological studies necessary for becoming a

"I confess that, like all my brothers and sisters, I owe to you that beautiful and great part of my education

which I have seen to be lacking to most of those around me. Heaven alone can reward you by a conviction of

After having paid a visit to his brother at St. Gall, Sand reached Tubingen, to which he had been principally

attracted by the reputation of Eschenmayer; he spent that winter quietly, and no other incident befell than his

admission into an association of Burschen, called the Teutonic; then came tester of 1815, and with it the

terrible news that Napoleon had landed in the Gulf of Juan. Immediately all the youth of Germany able to

bear arms gathered once more around the banners of 1813 and 1814. Sand followed the general example; but

the action, which in others was an effect of enthusiasm, was in him the result of calm and deliberate

"MY DEAR PARENTS, Until now you have found me submissive to your parental lessons and to the

advice of my excellent masters; until now I have made efforts to render myself worthy of the education that

God has sent me through you, and have applied myself to become capable of spreading the word of the Lord

through my native land; and for this reason I can today declare to you sincerely the decision that I lave

taken, assured that as tender and affectionate parents you will calm yourselves, and as German parents and

"The country calls once more for help, and this time the call is addressed to me, too, for now I have courage

and strength. It cast me a great in ward struggle, believe me, to abstain when in 1813 she gave her first cry,

and only the conviction held me back that thousands of others were then fighting and conquering for

Germany, while I had to live far the peaceful calling to which I was destined. Now it is a question of

preserving our newly reestablished liberty, which in so many places has already brought in so rich a harvest.

The allpowerful and merciful Lord reserves for us this great trial, which will certainly be the last; it is for us,

therefore, to show that we are worthy of the supreme gift which He has given us, and capable of upholding it

"The danger of the country has never been so great as it is now, that is why, among the youth of Germany,

the strong should support the wavering, that all may rise together. Our brave brothers in the north are already

assembling from all parts under their banners; the State of Wurtemburg is, proclaiming a general levy, and

volunteers are coming in from every quarter, asking to die for their country. I consider it my duty, too, to

fight for my country and for all the dear ones whom I love. If I were not profoundly convinced of this truth, I

should not communicate my resolution to you,; but my family is one that has a really German heart, and that

would consider me as a coward and an unworthy son if I did not follow this impulse. I certainly feel the

greatness of the sacrifice; it costs me something, believe me, to leave my beautiful studies and go to put

myself under the orders of vulgar, uneducated people, but this only increases my courage in going to secure

the liberty of my brothers; moreover, when once that liberty is secured, if God deigns to allow, I will return to

"I take leave, therefore, for a time of you, my most worthy parents, of my brothers, my sisters, and all who

are dear to me. As, after mature deliberation, it seems the most suitable thing for me to serve with the

Bavarians. I shall get myself enrolled, for as long as the war may last, with a company of that nation.

Farewell, then; live happily; far away from you as I shall be, I shall follow your pious exhortations. In this

new track I shall still I hope, remain pure before God, and I shall always try to walk in the path that rises

above the things of earth and leads to those of heaven, and perhaps in this career the bliss of saving some

"Your dear image will always be about me; I will always have the Lord before my eyes and in my heart, so

that I may endure joyfully the pains and fatigues of this holy war. Include me in your Prayers; God will send

you the hope of better times to help you in bearing the unhappy time in which we now are. We cannot see one

another again soon, unless we conquer; and if we should be conquered (which God forbid!), then my last

wish, which I pray you, I conjure you, to fulfil, my last and supreme wish would be that you, my dear and

deserving German relatives, should leave an enslaved country for some other not yet under the yoke.

"But why should we thus sadden one another's hearts? Is not our cause just and holy, and is not God just and

holy? How then should we not be victors? You see that sometimes I doubt, so, in your letters, which I am

impatiently expecting, have pity on me and do not alarm my soul, far in any case we shall meet again in

With this farewell to his parents, and with Korner's poems on his lips, Sand gave up his books, and on the

l0th of May we find him in arms among the volunteer chasseurs enrolled under the command of Major

Falkenhausen, who was at that time at Mannheim; here he found his second brother, who had preceded him,

Though Sand was not accustomed to great bodily fatigues, he endured those of the campaign with surprising

strength, refusing all the alleviations that his superiors tried to offer him; for he would allow no one to outdo

him in the trouble that he took for the good of the country. On the march he invariably shared: anything that

he possessed fraternally with his comrades, helping those who were weaker than himself to carry their

burdens, and, at once priest and soldier, sustaining them by his words when he was powerless to do anything

On the 18th of June, at eight o'clock in the evening, he arrived upon the field of battle at Waterloo, On the

On the 18th of December, 1815, Karl Sand and his brother were back at Wonsiedel, to the great joy of their

family. He spent the Christmas holidays and the end of the year with them, but his ardour for his new

vacation did not allow him to remain longer, and an the 7th of January he reached Erlangen. Then, to make

up for lost time, he resolved to subject his day to fixed and uniform rules, and to write down every evening

what he had done since the morning. It is by the help of this journal that we are able to follow the young

enthusiast, not only in all the actions of his life, but also in all the thoughts of his mind and all the hesitations

of his conscience. In it we find his whole self, simple to naivete, enthusiastic to madness, gentle even to

weakness towards others, severe even to asceticism towards himself. One of his great griefs was the expense

that his education occasioned to his parents, and every useless and costly pleasure left a remorse in his heart.

"I meant to go and visit my parents. Accordingly I went to the 'Commershaus', and there I was much

amused. N. and T. began upon me with the everlasting jokes about Wonsiedel; that went on until eleven

o'clock. But afterwards N. and T. began to torment me to go to the wineshop; I refused as long as I could.

But as, at last, they seemed to think that it was from contempt of them that I would not go and drink a glass of

Rhine wine with them, I did not dare resist longer. Unfortunately, they did not stop at Braunberger; and while

my glass was still half full, N. ordered a bottle of champagne. When the first had disappeared, T. ordered a

second; then, even before this second battle was drunk, both of them ordered a third in my name and in spite

of me. I returned home quite giddy, and threw myself on the sofa, where I slept for about an hour, and only

"Thus passed this shameful day, in which I have not thought enough of my kind and worthy parents, who are

leading a poor and hard life, and in which I suffered myself to be led away by the example of people who

have money into spending four florinsan expenditure which was useless, and which would have kept the

whole family for two days. Pardon me, my God, pardon me, I beseech Thee, and receive the vow that I make

never to fall into the same fault again. In future I will live even more abstemiously than I usually do, so as to

repair the fatal traces in my poor cashbox of my extravagance, and not to be obliged to ask money of my

Then, at the very time when the poor young man reproaches himself as if with a crime with having spent four

florins, one of his cousins, a widow, dies and leaves three orphan children. He runs immediately to carry the

first consolations to the unhappy little creatures, entreats his mother to take charge of the youngest, and

"Far the very keen joy that you have given me by your letter, and for the very dear tone in which your soul

speaks to me, bless you, O my mother! As I might have hoped and been sure, you have taken little Julius, and

that fills me afresh with the deepest gratitude towards you, the rather that, in my constant trust in your

goodness, I had already in her lifetime given our good little cousin the promise that you are fulfilling for me

About March, Sand, though he did not fall ill, had an indisposition that obliged him to go and take the waters;

his mother happened at the time to be at the ironworks of Redwitz, same twelve or fifteen miles from

Wonsiedel, where the mineral springs are found. Sand established himself there with his mother, and

notwithstanding his desire to avoid interrupting his work, the time taken up by baths, by invitations to

dinners, and even by the walks which his health required, disturbed the regularity of his usual existence and

awakened his remorse. Thus we find these lines written in his journal for April 13th:

"Life, without some high aim towards which all thoughts and actions tend, is an empty desert: my day

yesterday is a proof of this; I spent it with my own people, and that, of course, was a great pleasure to me; but

how did I spend it? In continual eating, so that when I wanted to work I could do nothing worth doing. Full of

indolence and slackness, I dragged myself into the company of two or three sets of people, and came from

Far these expeditions Sand made use of a little chestnut horse which belonged to his brother, and of which he

was very fond. This little horse had been bought with great difficulty; for, as we have said, the whole family

was poor. The following note, in relation to the animal, will give an idea of Sand's simplicity of heart:

"19th April "Today I have been very happy at the ironworks, and very industrious beside my kind mother.

In the evening I came home on the little chestnut. Since the day before yesterday, when he got a strain and

hurt his foot, he has been very restive and very touchy, and when he got home he refused his food. I thought

at first that he did not fancy his fodder, and gave him some pieces of sugar and sticks of cinnamon, which he

likes very much; he tasted them, but would not eat them. The poor little beast seems to have same other

internal indisposition besides his injured foot. If by ill luck he were to become foundered or ill, everybody,

even my parents, would throw the blame on me, and yet I have been very careful and considerate of him. My

God, my Lord, Thou who canst do things both great and small, remove from me this misfortune, and let him

recover as quickly as possible. If, however, Thou host willed otherwise, and if this fresh trouble is to fall

upon us, I will try to bear it with courage, and as the expiation of same sin. Meanwhile, O my Gad, I leave

German manners and customs are so different from ours, and contrasts occur so frequently in the same man,

on the other side of the Rhine, that anything less than all the quotations which we have given would have

been insufficient to place before our readers a true idea of that character made up of artlessness and reason,

childishness and strength, depression and enthusiasm, material details and poetic ideas, which renders Sand a

man incomprehensible to us. We will now continue the portrait, which still wants a few finishing touches.

When he returned to Erlangen, after the completion of his "cure," Sand read Faust far the first time. At first

he was amazed at that work, which seemed to him an orgy of genius; then, when he had entirely finished it,

"Oh, horrible struggle of man and devil! What Mephistopheles is in me I feel far the first time in this hour,

"About eleven at night I finished reading the tragedy, and I felt and saw the fiend in myself, so that by

Sand was falling by degrees into a deep melancholy, from which nothing could rouse him except his desire to

purify and preach morality to the students around him. To anyone who knows university life such a task will

seem superhuman. Sand, however, was not discouraged, and if he could not gain an influence over everyone,

he at least succeeded in forming around him a considerable circle of the most intelligent and the best;

nevertheless, in the midst of these apostolic labours strange longings for death would overcome him; he

seemed to recall heaven and want to return to it; he called these temptations "homesickness for the soul's

His favourite authors were Lessing, Schiller, Herder, and Goethe; after rereading the two last for the

"Good and evil touch each other; the woes of the young Werther and Weisslingen's seduction, are almost the

same story; no matter, we must not judge between what is good and what is evil in others; for that is what

God will do. I have just been spending much time over this thought, and have become convinced that in no

circumstances ought we to allow ourselves to seek for the devil in others, and that we have no right to judge;

the only creature over wham we have received the power to judge and condemn is ourself, and that gives us

"I have again today felt a profound desire to quit this world and enter a higher world; but this desire is rather

The year 1816 was spent by Sand in these pious attempts upon his young comrades, in this ceaseless

selfexamination, and in the perpetual battle which he waged with the desire for death that pursued him;

every day he had deeper doubts of himself; and on the 1st of January, 1817, he wrote this prayer in his diary

"Grant to me, O Lord, to me whom Thou halt endowed, in sending me on earth, with free will, the grace that

in this year which we are now beginning I may never relax this constant attention, and not shamefully give up

the examination of my conscience which I have hitherto made. Give me strength to increase the attention

which I turn upon my own life, and to diminish that which I turn upon the life of others; strengthen my will

that it may become powerful to command the desires of the body and the waverings of the soul; give me a

pious conscience entirely devoted to Thy celestial kingdom, that I may always belong to Thee, or after

Sand was right in praying to God for the year 1817, and his fears were a presentiment: the skies of Germany,

lightened by Leipzig and Waterloo, were once more darkened; to the colossal and universal despotism of

Napoleon succeeded the individual oppression of those little princes who made up the Germanic Diet, and all

that the nations had gained by overthrowing the giant was to be governed by dwarfs. This was the time when

secret societies were organised throughout Germany; let us say a few words about them, for the history that

we are writing is not only that of individuals, but also that of nations, and every time that occasion presents

The secret societies of Germany, of which, without knowing them, we have all heard, seem, when we follow

them up, like rivers, to originate in some sort of affiliation to those famous clubs of the 'i1lumines' and the

freemasons which made so much stir in France at the close of the eighteenth century. At the time of the

revolution of '89 these different philosophical, political, and religious sects enthusiastically accepted the

republican doctrines, and the successes of our first generals have often been attributed to the secret efforts of

the members. When Bonaparte, who was acquainted with these groups, and was even said to have belonged

to them, exchanged his general's uniform for an emperor's cloak, all of them, considering him as a renegade

and traitor, not only rose against him at home, but tried to raise enemies against him abroad; as they

addressed themselves to noble and generous passions, they found a response, and princes to whom their

results might be profitable seemed for a moment to encourage them. Among others, Prince Louis of Prussia

The attempted murder by Stops, to which we have already referred, was one of the thunderclaps of the storm;

but its morrow brought the peace of Vienna, and the degradation of Austria was the deathblow of the old

Germanic organisation. These societies, which had received a mortal wound in 1806 and were now controlled

by the French police, instead of continuing to meet in public, were forced to seek new members in the dark.

In 1811 several agents of these societies were arrested in Berlin, but the Prussian authorities, following secret

orders of (Queen Louisa, actually protected them, so that they were easily able to deceive the French police

about their intentions. About February 1815 the disasters of the French army revived the courage of these

societies, for it was seen that God was helping their cause: the students in particular joined enthusiastically in

the new attempts that were now begun; many colleges enrolled themselves almost entire, anal chose their

principals and professors as captains; the poet, Korner, killed on the 18th of October at Liegzig, was the hero

The triumph of this national movement, which twice carried the Prussian armylargely composed of

volunteersto Paris, was followed, when the treaties of 1815 and the new Germanic constitution were made

known, by a terrible reaction in Germany. All these young men who, exiled by their princes, had risen in the

name of liberty, soon perceived that they had been used as tools to establish European despotism; they

wished to claim the promises that had been made, but the policy of Talleyrand and Metternich weighed on

them, and repressing them at the first words they uttered, compelled them to shelter their discontent and their

hopes in the universities, which, enjoying a kind of constitution of their own, more easily escaped the

investigations made by the spies of the Holy Alliance; but, repressed as they were, these societies continued

nevertheless to exist, and kept up communications by means of travelling students, who, bearing verbal

messages, traversed Germany under the pretence of botanising, and, passing from mountain to mountain,

sowed broadcast those luminous and hopeful words of which peoples are always greedy and kings always

We have seen that Sand, carried away by the general movement, had gone through the campaign of 1815 as a

volunteer, although he was then only nineteen years old. On his return, he, like others, had found his golden

hopes deceived, and it is from this period that we find his journal assuming the tone of mysticism and sadness

which our readers must have remarked in it. He soon entered one of these associations, the Teutonia; and

from that moment, regarding the great cause which he had taken up as a religious one, he attempted to make

the conspirators worthy of their enterprise, and thus arose his attempts to inculcate moral doctrines, in which

he succeeded with some, but failed with the majority. Sand had succeeded, however, in forming around him a

certain circle of Puritans, composed of about sixty to eighty students, all belonging to the group of the

'Burschenschaft' which continued its political and religious course despite all the jeers of the opposing

groupthe 'Landmannschaft'. One of his friends called Dittmar and he were pretty much the chiefs, and

although no election had given them their authority, they exercised so much influence upon what was decided

that in any particular case their fellowadepts were sure spontaneously to obey any impulse that they might

choose to impart. The meetings of the Burschen took place upon a little hill crowned by a ruined castle,

which was situated at some distance from Erlangen, and which Sand and Dittmar had called the Ruttli, in

memory of the spot where Walter Furst, Melchthal, and Stauffacher had made their vow to deliver their

country; there, under the pretence of students' games, while they built up a new house with the ruined

fragments, they passed alternately from symbol to action and from action to symbol.

Meanwhile the association was making such advances throughout Germany that not only the princes and

kings of the German confederation, but also the great European powers, began to be uneasy. France sent

agents to bring home reports, Russia paid agents on the spot, and the persecutions that touched a professor

and exasperated a whole university often arose from a note sent by the Cabinet of the Tuileries or of St.

It was amid the events that began thus that Sand, after commending himself to the protection of God, began

the year 1817, in the sad mood in which we have just seen him, and in which he was kept rather by a disgust

for things as they were than by a disgust for life. On the 8th of May, preyed upon by this melancholy, which

he cannot conquer, and which comes from the disappointment of all his political hopes, he writes in his diary:

"I shall find it impassible to set seriously to work, and this idle temper, this humour of hypochondria which

casts its black veil over everything in life,continues and grows in spite of the moral activity which I

In the holidays, fearing to burden his parents with any additional expense, he will not go home, and prefers to

make a walking tour with his friends. No doubt this tour, in addition to its recreative side, had a political aim.

Be that as it may, Sand's diary, during the period of his journey, shows nothing but the names of the towns

through which he passed. That we may have a notion of Sand's dutifulness to his parents, it should be said

that he did not set out until he had obtained his mother's permission. On their return, Sand, Dittmar, and their

friends the Burschen, found their Ruttli sacked by their enemies of the Landmannschaft; the house that they

had built was demolished and its fragments dispersed. Sand took this event for an omen, and was greatly

"It seems to me, O my God!" he says in his journal, "that everything swims and turns around me. My soul

grows darker and darker; my moral strength grows less instead of greater; I work and cannot achieve; walk

towards my aim and do not reach it; exhaust myself, and do nothing great. The days of life flee one after

another; cares and uneasiness increase; I see no haven anywhere for our sacred German cause. The end will

be that we shall fall, for I myself waver. O Lord and Father! protect me, save me, and lead me to that land

from which we are for ever driven back by the indifference of wavering spirits."

About this time a terrible event struck Sand to the heart; his friend Dittmar was drowned. This is what he

"Oh, almighty God! What is going to become of me? For the last fortnight I have been drawn into disorder,

and have not been able to compel myself to look fixedly either backward or forward in my life, so that from

the 4th of June up to the present hour my journal has remained empty. Yet every day I might have had

occasion to praise Thee, O my God, but my soul is in anguish. Lord, do not turn from me; the more are the

In the evening he added these few words to the lines that he had written in the morning:

"Desolation, despair, and death over my friend, over my very deeply loved Dittmar."

This letter which he wrote to his family contains the account of the tragic event:

"You know that when my best friends, A., C., and Z., were gone, I became particularly intimate with my

wellbeloved Dittmar of Anspach; Dittmar, that is to say a true and worthy German, an evangelical Christian,

something more, in short, than a man! An angelic soul, always turned toward the good, serene, pious, and

ready for action; he had come to live in a room next to mine in Professor Grunler's house; we loved each

other, upheld each other in our efforts, and, well or ill, bare our good or evil fortune in common. On this last

spring evening, after having worked in his room and having strengthened ourselves anew to resist all the

torments of life and to advance towards the aim that we desired to attain; we went, about seven in the

evening, to the baths of Redwitz. A very black storm was rising in the sky, but only as yet appeared on the

horizon. E., who was with us, proposed to go home, but Dittmar persisted, saying that the canal was but a few

steps away. God permitted that it should not be I who replied with these fatal words. So he went on. The

sunset was splendid: I see it still; its violet clouds all fringed with gold, for I remember the smallest details of

"Dittmar went down first; he was the only one of us who knew how to swim; so he walked before us to show

us the depth. The water was about up to our chests, and he, who preceded us, was up to his shoulders, when

he warned us not to go farther, because he was ceasing to feel the bottom. He immediately gave up his

footing and began to swim, but scarcely had he made ten strokes when, having reached the place where the

river separates into two branches, he uttered a cry, and as he was trying to get a foothold, disappeared. We

ran at once to the bank, hoping to be able to help him more easily; but we had neither poles nor ropes within

reach, and, as I have told you, neither of us could swim. Then we called for help with all our might. At that

moment Dittmar reappeared, and by an unheardof effort seized the end of a willow branch that was hanging

over the water; but the branch was not strong enough to resist, and our friend sank again, as though he had

been struck by apoplexy. Can you imagine the state in which we were, we his friends, bending over the river,

our fixed and haggard eyes trying to pierce its depth? My God, my God! how was it we did not go mad?

"A great crowd, however, had run at our cries. For two hours they sought far him with boats and draghooks;

and at last they succeeded in drawing his body from the gulf. Yesterday we bore it solemnly to the field of

"Thus with the end of this spring has begun the serious summer of my life. I greeted it in a grave and

melancholy mood, and you behold me now, if not consoled, at least strengthened by religion, which, thanks

to the merits of Christ, gives me the assurance of meeting my friend in heaven, from the heights of which he

will inspire me with strength to support the trials of this life; and now I do not desire anything more except to

Instead of serving to unite the two groups of students in a common grief, this accident, on the contrary, did

but intensify their hatred of each other. Among the first persons who ran up at the cries of Sand and his

companion was a member of the Landmannschaft who could swim, but instead of going to Dittmar's

assistance he exclaimed, "It seems that we shall get rid of one of these dogs of Burschen; thank God!"

Notwithstanding this manifestation of hatred, which, indeed, might be that of an individual and not of the

whole body, the Burschen invited their enemies to be present at Dittmar's funeral. A brutal refusal, and a

threat to disturb the ceremony by insults to the corpse, formed their sole reply. The Burschen then warned the

authorities, who took suitable measures, and all Dittmar's friends followed his coffin sword in hand.

Beholding this calm but resolute demonstration, the Landmannschaft did not dare to carry out their threat,

"Dittmar is a great loss to all of us, and particularly to me; he gave me the overflow of his strength and life;

he stopped, as it were, with an embankment, the part of my character that is irresolute and undecided. From

him it is that I have learned not to dread the approaching storm, and to know how to fight and die."

Some days after the funeral Sand had a quarrel about Dittmar with one of his former friends, who had passed

over from the Burschen to the Landmannschaft, and who had made himself conspicuous at the time of the

funeral by his indecent hilarity. It was decided that they should fight the next day, and on the same day Sand

"Tomorrow I am to fight with P. G.; yet Thou knowest, O my God, what great friends we formerly were,

except for a certain mistrust with which his coldness always inspired me; but on this occasion his odious

conduct has caused me to descend from the tenderest pity to the profoundest hatred.

"My God, do not withdraw Thy hand either from him or from me, since we are both fighting like men! Judge

only by our two causes, and give the victory to that which is the more just. If Thou shouldst call me before

Thy supreme tribunal, I know very well that I should appear burdened with an eternal malediction; and

indeed it is not upon myself that I reckon but upon the merits of our Saviour Jesus Christ.

"My dear parents, brothers, and friends, I commend you to the protection of God."

Sand waited in vain for two hours next day: his adversary did not come to the meeting place.

The loss of Dittmar, however, by no means produced the result upon Sand that might have been expected,

and that he himself seems to indicate in the regrets he expressed for him. Deprived of that strong soul upon

which he rested, Sand understood that it was his task by redoubled energy to make the death of Dittmar less

fatal to his party. And indeed he continued singly the work of drawing in recruits which they had been

carrying on together, and the patriotic conspiracy was not for a moment impeded.

The holidays came, and Sand left Erlangen to return no more. From Wonsiedel he was to proceed to Jena, in

order to complete his theological studies there. After some days spent with his family, and indicated in his

journal as happy, Sand went to his new place of abode, where he arrived some time before the festival of the

Wartburg. This festival, established to celebrate the anniversary of the battle of Leipzig, was regarded as a

solemnity throughout Germany, and although the princes well knew that it was a centre for the annual

renewal of affiliation to the various societies, they dared not forbid it. Indeed, the manifesto of the Teutonic

Association was exhibited at this festival and signed by more than two thousand deputies from different

universities in Germany. This was a day of joy for Sand; for he found in the midst of new friends a great

The Government, however, which had not 'dared to attack the Association by force, resolved to undermine it

by opinion. M. de Stauren published a terrible document, attacking the societies, and founded, it was said,

upon information furnished by Kotzebue. This publication made a great stir, not only at Jena, but throughout

24th November "Today, after working with much ease and assiduity, I went out about four with E. As we

crossed the marketplace we heard Kotzebue's new and venomous insult read. By what a fury that man is

Thus far the first time and in these terms Sand's journal presents the name of the man who, eighteen months

The Government, however, which had not 'dared to attack the Association by force, resolved to undermine it

by opinion. M. de Stauren published a terrible document, attacking the societies, and founded, it was said,

upon information furnished by Kotzebue. This publication made a great stir, not only at Jena, but throughout

"Today, after working with much ease and assiduity, I went out about four with E. As we crossed the

marketplace we heard Kotzebue's new and venomous insult read. By what a fury that man is possessed

Thus for the first time and in these terms Sand's journal presents the name of the man who, eighteen months

"Tomorrow I shall set out courageously and joyfully from this place for a pilgrimage to Wonsiedel; there I

shall find my largehearted mother and my tender sister Julia; there I shall cool my head and warm my heart.

Probably I shall be present at my good Fritz's marriage with Louisa, and at the baptism of my very dear

Durchmith's firstborn. God, O my Father, as Thou hast been with me during my sad course, be with me still

This journey did in fact greatly cheer Sand. Since Dittmar's death his attacks of hypochondria had

disappeared. While Dittmar lived he might die; Dittmar being dead, it was his part to live.

On the 11th of December he left Wonsiedel, to return to Jena, and on the 31st of the same month he wrote

"O merciful Saviour! I began this year with prayer, and in these last days I have been subject to distraction

and illdisposed. When I look backward, I find, alas! that I have not become better; but I have entered more

"It is because Thou hast always been with me, Lord, even when I was not with Thee."

If our readers have followed with some attention the different extracts from the journal that we have placed

before them, they must have seen Sand's resolution gradually growing stronger and his brain becoming

excited. From the beginning of the year 1818, one feels his view, which long was timid and wandering,

taking in a wider horizon and fixing itself on a nobler aim. He is no longer ambitious of the pastor's simple

life or of the narrow influence which he might gain in a little community, and which, in his juvenile modesty,

had seemed the height of good fortune and happiness; it is now his native land, his German people, nay, all

humanity, which he embraces in his gigantic plans of political regeneration. Thus, on the flyleaf of his journal

"Lord, let me strengthen myself in the idea that I have conceived of the deliverance of humanity by the holy

sacrifice of Thy Son. Grant that I may be a Christ of Germany, and that, like and through Jesus, I may be

But the antirepublican pamphlets of Kotzebue increased in number and gained a fatal influence upon the

minds of rulers. Nearly all the persons who were attacked in these pamphlets were known and esteemed at

Jena; and it may easily be comprehended what effects were produced by such insults upon these young heads

and noble hearts, which carried conviction to the paint of blindness and enthusiasm to that of fanaticism.

"Lord, what causes this melancholy anguish which has again taken possession of me? But a firm and constant

will surmounts everything, and the idea of the country gives joy and courage to the saddest and the weakest.

When I think of that, I am always amazed that there is none among us found courageous enough to drive a

"A man is nothing in comparison with a nation; he is a unity compared with millions, a minute compared

with a century. A man, whom nothing precedes and nothing follows, is born, lives, and dies in a longer or

shorter time, which, relatively to eternity, hardly equals the duration of a lightning flash. A nation, on the

>From time to time, however, amid these thoughts that bear the impress of that political fatality which was

driving him towards the deed of bloodshed, the kindly and joyous youth reappears. On the 24th of June he

"I have received your long and beautiful letter, accompanied by the very complete and wellchosen outfit

which you send me. The sight of this fine linen gave me back one of the joys of my childhood. These are

fresh benefits. My prayers never remain unfulfilled, and I have continual cause to thank you and God. I

receive, all at once, shirts, two pairs of fine sheets, a present of your work, and of Julia's and Caroline's work,

dainties and sweetmeats, so that I am still jumping with joy and I turned three times on my heels when I

opened the little parcel. Receive the thanks of my heart, and share, as giver, in the joy of him who has

"Today, however, is a very serious day, the last day of spring and the anniversary of that on which I lost my

noble and good Dittmar. I am a prey to a thousand different and confused feelings; but I have only two

passions left in me which remain upright and like two pillars of brass support this whole chaosthe thought

During all this time Sand's life remains apparently calm and equal; the inward storm is calmed; he rejoices in

his application to work and his cheerful temper. However, from time to time, he makes great complaints to

himself of his propensity to love dainty food, which he does not always find it possible to conquer. Then, in

his selfcontempt, he calls himself "figstomach" or "cakestomach." But amid all this the religious and

political exaltation and visits all the battlefields near to the road that he follows. On the 18th of October he is

back at Jena, where he resumes his studies with more application than ever. It is among such university

studies that the year 1818 closes far him, and we should hardly suspect the terrible resolution which he has

taken, were it not that we find in his journal this last note, dated the 3lst of December:

"I finish the last day of this year 1818, then, in a serious and solemn mood, and I have decided that the

Christmas feast which has just gone by will be the last Christmas feast that I shall celebrate. If anything is to

come of our efforts, if the cause of humanity is to assume the upper hand in our country, if in this faithless

epoch any noble feelings can spring up afresh and make way, it can only happen if the wretch, the traitor, the

seducer of youth, the infamous Kotzebue, falls! I am fully convinced of this, and until I have accomplished

the work upon which I have resolved, I shall have no rest. Lord, Thou who knowest that I have devoted my

life to this great action, I only need, now that it is fixed in my mind, to beg of Thee true firmness and courage

Here Sand's diary ends; he had begun it to strengthen himself; he had reached his aim; he needed nothing

more. From this moment he was occupied by nothing but this single idea, and he continued slowly to mature

the plan in his head in order to familiarise himself with its execution; but all the impressions arising from this

thought remained in his own mind, and none was manifested on the surface. To everyone else he was the

same; but for some little time past, a complete and unaltered serenity, accompanied by a visible and cheerful

return of inclination towards life, had been noticed in him. He had made no charge in the hours or the

duration of his studies; but he had begun to attend the anatomical classes very assiduously. One day he was

seen to give even more than his customary attention to a lesson in which the professor was demonstrating the

various functions of the heart; he examined with the greatest care the place occupied by it in the chest, asking

to have some of the demonstrations repeated two or three times, and when he went out, questioning some of

the young men who were following the medical courses, about the susceptibility of the organ, which cannot

receive ever so slight a blow without death ensuing from that blow: all this with so perfect an indifference

Another day, A. S., one of his friends, came into his room. Sand, who had heard him coming up, was

standing by the table, with a paperknife in his hand, waiting for him; directly the visitor came in, Sand flung

himself upon him, struck him lightly on the forehead; and then, as he put up his hands to ward off the blow,

struck him rather more violently in the chest; then, satisfied with this experiment, said:

"You see, when you want to kill a man, that is the way to do it; you threaten the face, he puts up his hands,

The two young men laughed heartily over this murderous demonstration, and A. S. related it that evening at

the wineshop as one of the peculiarities of character that were common in his friend. After the event, the

The month of March arrived. Sand became day by day calmer, more affectionate, and kinder; it might be

thought that in the moment of leaving his friends for ever he wished to leave them an ineffaceable

remembrance of him. At last he announced that on account of several family affairs he was about to

undertake a little journey, and set about all his preparations with his usual care, but with a serenity never

previously seen in him. Up to that time he had continued to work as usual, not relaxing for an instant; for

there was a possibility that Kotzebue might die or be killed by somebody else before the term that Sand had

fixed to himself, and in that case he did not wish to have lost time. On the 7th of March he invited all his

friends to spend the evening with him, and announced his departure for the next day but one, the 9th. All of

them then proposed to him to escort him for some leagues, but Sand refused; he feared lest this

demonstration, innocent though it were, might compromise them later on. He set forth alone, therefore, after

having hired his lodgings for another halfyear, in order to obviate any suspicion, and went by way of Erfurt

and Eisenach, in order to visit the Wartburg. From that place he went to Frankfort, where he slept on the 17th,

and on the morrow he continued his journey by way of Darmstadt. At last, on the 23rd, at nine in the

morning, he arrived at the top of the little hill where we found him at the beginning of this narrative.

Throughout the journey he had been the amiable and happy young man whom no one could see without

Having reached Mannheim, he took a room at the Weinberg, and wrote his name as "Henry" in the visitors'

list. He immediately inquired where Kotzebue lived. The councillor dwelt near the church of the Jesuits; his

house was at the corner of a street, and though Sand's informants could not tell him exactly the letter, they

assured him it was not possible to mistake the house. [At Mannheim houses are marked by letters, not by

Sand went at once to Kotzebue's house: it was about ten o'clock; he was told that the councillor went to walk

for an hour or two every morning in the park of Mannheim. Sand inquired about the path in which he

generally walked, and about the clothes he wore, for never having seen him he could only recognise him by

the description. Kotzebue chanced to take another path. Sand walked about the park for an hour, but seeing

Sand went back to the Weinberg, and sat down to the midday table d'hote, where he dined with an appearance

of such calmness, and even of such happiness, that his conversation, which was now lively, now simple, and

now dignified, was remarked by everybody. At five in the afternoon he returned a third time to the house of

Kotzebue, who was giving a great dinner that day; but orders had been given to admit Sand. He was shown

into a little room opening out of the anteroom, and a moment after, Kotzebue came in.

Sand then performed the drama which he had rehearsed upon his friend A. S. Kotzebue, finding his face

threatened, put his hands up to it, and left his breast exposed; Sand at once stabbed him to the heart; Kotzebue

At the cry a little girl of six years old ran in, one of those charming German children, with the faces of

cherubs, blueeyed, with long flowing hair. She flung herself upon the body of Kotzebue, calling her father

with piercing cries. Sand, standing at the door, could not endure this sight, and without going farther, he

thrust the dagger, still covered with Kotzebue's blood, up to the hilt into his own breast. Then, seeing to his

surprise that notwithstanding the terrible woundhe had just given himself he did not feel the approach of

death, and not wishing to fall alive into the hands of the servants who were running in, he rushed to the

staircase. The persons who were invited were just coming in; they, seeing a young man, pale and bleeding

with a knife in his breast, uttered loud cries, and stood aside, instead of stopping him. Sand therefore passed

down the staircase and reached the street below; ten paces off, a patrol was passing, on the way to relieve the

sentinels at the castle; Sand thought these men had been summoned by the cries that followed him; he threw

himself on his knees in the middle of the street, and said, "Father, receive my soul!"

Then, drawing the knife from the wound, he gave himself a second blow below the former, and fell

Sand was carried to the hospital and guarded with the utmost strictness; the wounds were serious, but, thanks

to the skill of the physicians who were called in, were not mortal; one of them even healed eventually; but as

to the second, the blade having gone between the costal pleura and the pulmonary pleura, an effusion of

blood occurred between the two layers, so that, instead of closing the wound, it was kept carefully open, in

order that the blood extravasated during the night might be drawn off every morning by means of a pump, as

When, on the 26th of March, the news of Kotzebue's assassination came from Mannheim to Jena, the

academic senate caused Sand's room to be opened, and found two lettersone addressed to his friends of the

Burschenschaft, in which he declared that he no longer belonged to their society, since he did not wish that

their brotherhood should include a man about to die an the scaffold. The other letter, which bore this

superscription, "To my nearest and dearest," was an exact account of what he meant to do, and the motives

which had made him determine upon this act. Though the letter is a little long, it is so solemn and so antique

in spirit, that we do not hesitate to present it in its entirety to our readers:

"Why add still further to your sadness? I asked myself, and I hesitated to write to you; but my silence would

have wounded the religion of the heart; and the deeper a grief the more it needs, before it can be blotted out,

to drain to the dregs its cup of bitterness. Forth from my agonised breast, then; forth, long and cruel torment

of a last conversation, which alone, however, when sincere, can alleviate the pain of parting.

"The greatest misfortune of life far any generous heart is to see the cause of God stopped short in its

developments by our fault; and the most dishonouring infamy would be to suffer that the fine things acquired

bravely by thousands of men, and far which thousands of men have joyfully sacrificed themselves, should be

no more than a transient dream, without real and positive consequences. The resurrection of our German life

was begun in these last twenty years, and particularly in the sacred year 1813, with a courage inspired by

God. But now the house of our fathers is shaken from the summit to the base. Forward! let us raise it, new

"Small is the number of those who resist, and who wish to oppose themselves as a dyke against the torrent of

the progress of higher humanity among the German people. Why should vast whole masses bow beneath the

yoke of a perverse minority? And why, scarcely healed, should we fall back into a worse disease than that

"Many of these seducers, and those are the most infamous, are playing the game of corruption with us; among

them is Kotzebue, the most cunning and the worst of all, a real talking machine emitting all sorts of

detestable speech and pernicious advice. His voice is skillful in removing from us all anger and bitterness

against the most unjust measures, and is just such as kings require to put us to sleep again in that old hazy

slumber which is the death of nations. Every day he odiously betrays his country, and nevertheless, despite

his treason, remains an idol for half Germany, which, dazzled by him, accepts unresisting the poison poured

out by him in his periodic pamphlets, wrapped up and protected as he is by the seductive mantle of a great

poetic reputation. Incited by him, the princes of Germany, who have forgotten their promises, will allow

nothing free or good to be accomplished; or if anything of the kind is accomplished in spite of them, they will

league themselves with the French to annihilate it. That the history of our time may not be covered with

"I have always said that if we wish to find a great and supreme remedy for the state of abasement in which we

are, none must shrink from combat nor from suffering; and the real liberty of the German people will only be

assured when the good citizen sets himself or some other stake upon the game, and when every true son of

the country, prepared for the struggle for justice, despises the good things of this world, and only desires

"I have long been waiting in fear, in prayer, and in tearsI who am not born for murderfor some other to

be beforehand with me, to set me free, and suffer me to continue my way along the sweet and peaceful path

that I had chosen for myself. Well, despite my prayers and my tears, he who should strike does not present

himself; indeed, every man, like myself, has a right to count upon some other, and everyone thus counting,

every hour's delay, but makes our state worse; far at any momentand how deep a shame would that be for

us! Kotzebue may leave Germany, unpunished, and go to devour in Russia the treasures for which he has

exchanged his honour, his conscience, and his German name. Who can preserve us from this shame, if every

man, if I myself, do not feel strength to make myself the chosen instrument of God's justice? Therefore,

forward! It shall be I who will courageously rush upon him (do not be alarmed), on him, the loathsome

seducer; it shall be I who will kill the traitor, so that his misguiding voice, being extinguished, shall cease to

lead us astray from the lessons of history and from the Spirit of God. An irresistible and solemn duty impels

me to this deed, ever since I have recognised to what high destinies the German; nation may attain during this

century, and ever since I have come to know the dastard and hypocrite who alone prevents it from reaching

them; for me, as for every German who seeks the public good, this desire has became a strict and binding

necessity. May I, by this national vengeance, indicate to all upright and loyal consciences where the true

danger lies, and save our vilified and calumniated societies from the imminent danger that threatens them!

May I, in short, spread terror among the cowardly and wicked, and courage arid faith among the good!

"I will act, therefore; and though driven violently away from my fair dreams of the future, I am none the less

full of trust in God; I even experience a celestial joy, now that, like the Hebrews when they sought the

promised land, I see traced before me, through darkness and death, that road at the end of which I shall have

"Farewell, then, faithful hearts: true, this early separation is hard; true, your hopes, like my wishes, are

disappointed; but let us be consoled by the primary thought that we have done what the voice of our country

called upon us to do; that, you knew, is the principle according to which I have always lived. You will

doubtless say among yourselves, 'Yes, thanks to our sacrifices, he had learned to know life and to taste the

joys of earth, and he seemed: deeply to love his native country and the humble estate to which he was called'.

Alas, yes, that is true! Under your protection, and amid your numberless sacrifices, my native land and life

had become profoundly dear to me. Yes, thanks to you, I have penetrated into the Eden of knowledge, and

have lived the free life of thought; thanks to you, I have looked into history, and have then returned to my

"Yes, I was to pass gently through this life as a preacher of the gospel; yes, in my constancy to my calling I

was to be sheltered from the storms of this existence. But would that suffice to avert the danger that threatens

Germany? And you yourselves, in your infinite lave, should you not rather push me on to risk my life for the

good of all? So many modern Greeks have fallen already to free their country from the yoke of the Turks, and

have died almost without any result and without any hope; and yet thousands of fresh martyrs keep up their

courage and are ready to fall in their turn; and should I, then, hesitate to die?

"That I do not recognise your love, or that your love is but a trifling consideration with me, you will not

believe. What else should impel me to die if not my devotion to you and to Germany, and the need of proving

"You, mother, will say, 'Why have I brought up a son whom I loved and who loved me, for whom I have

undergone a thousand cares and toils, who, thanks to my prayers and my example, was impressionable to

good influences, and from whom, after my long and weary course, I hoped to receive attentions like those

"Oh, my kind and tender mother! Yes, you will perhaps say that; but could not the mother of anyone else say

the same, and everything go off thus in words when there is need to act for the country? And if no one would

"But no; such complaints are far from you, you noble woman! I understood your appeal once before, and at

this present hour, if no one came forward in the German cause, you yourself would urge me to the fight. I

have two brothers and two sisters before me, all noble and loyal. They will remain to you, mother; and

besides you will have for sons all the children of Germany who love their country.

"Every man has a destiny which he has to accomplish: mine is devoted to the action that I am about to

undertake; if I were to live another fifty years, I could not live more happily than I have done lately. Farewell,

mother: I commend you to the protection of God; may He raise you to that joy which misfortunes can no

longer trouble! Take your grandchildren, to whom I should so much have liked to be a loving friend, to the

top of our beautiful mountains soon. There, on that altar raised by the Lord Himself in the midst of Germany,

let them devote themselves, swearing to take up the sword as soon as they have strength to lift it, and to lay it

down only when our brethren are all united in liberty, when all Germans, having a liberal constitution; are

great before the Lord, powerful against their neighbours, and united among themselves.

"May my country ever raise her happy gaze to Thee, Almighty Father! May Thy blessing fall abundantly

upon her harvests ready to be cut and her armies ready for battle, and recognising the blessings that Thou host

showered upon us, may the German nation ever be first among nations to rise and uphold the cause of

"Your eternally attached son, brother and friend, " KARLLUDWIG SAND. " JENA, the beginning of

Sand, who, as we have said, had at first been taken to the hospital, was removed at the end of three months to

the prison at Mannheim, where the governor, Mr. G, had caused a room to be prepared for him. There

he remained two months longer in a state of extreme weakness: his left arm was completely paralysed; his

voice was very weak; every movement gave him horrible pain, and thus it was not until the 11th of

Augustthat is to say, five months after the event that we have narratedthat he was able to write to his

MY VERY DEAR PARENTS: The grandduke's commission of inquiry informed me yesterday that it

might be possible I should have the intense joy of a visit from you, and that I might perhaps see you here and

"Without being surprised at this fresh proof of your motherly love, I have felt an ardent remembrance

reawaken of the happy life that we spent gently together. Joy and grief, desire and sacrifice, agitate my heart

violently, and I have had to weigh these various impulses one against the other, and with the force of reason,

in order to resume mastery of myself and to take a decision in regard to my wishes.

"You know, mother, how much joy and courage a look from your eyes, daily intercourse with you, and your

pious and highminded conversation, might bring me during my very short time. But you also know my

position, and you are too well acquainted with the natural course of all these painful inquiries, not to feel as I

do, that such annoyance, continually recurring, would greatly trouble the pleasure of our companionship, if it

did not indeed succeed in entirely destroying it. Then, mother, after the long and fatiguing journey that you

would be obliged to make in order to see me, think of the terrible sorrow of the farewell when the moment

came to part in this world. Let us therefore abide by the sacrifice, according to God's will, and let us yield

ourselves only to that sweet community of thought which distance cannot interrupt, in which I find my only

joys, and which, in spite of men, will always be granted us by the Lord, our Father.

"As for my physical state, I knew nothing about it. You see, however, since at last I am writing to you myself,

that I have come past my first uncertainties. As for the rest, I know too little of the structure of my own body

to give any opinion as to what my wounds may determine for it. Except that a little strength has returned to

me, its state is still the same, and I endure it calmly and patiently; for God comes to my help, and gives me

courage and firmness. He will help me, believe me, to find all the joys of the soul and to be strong in mind.

A month after this letter came tender answers from all the family. We will quote only that of Sand's mother,

because it completes the idea which the reader may have formed already of this greathearted woman, as her

"DEAR, INEXPRESSIBLY DEAR KARL,How Sweet it was to me to see the writing of your beloved

hand after so long a time! No journey would have been so painful and no road so long as to prevent me from

coming to you, and I would go, in deep and infinite love, to any end of the earth in the mere hope of catching

"But, as I well know both your tender affection and your profound anxiety for me, and as you give me, so

firmly and upon such manly reflection, reasons against which I can say nothing, and which I can but honour,

it shall be, my wellbeloved Karl, as you have wished and decided. We will continue, without speech, to

communicate our thoughts; but be satisfied, nothing can separate us; I enfold you in my soul, and my material

"May this infinite love which upholds us, strengthens us, and leads us all to a better life, preserve, dear Karl,

"Farewell, and be invariably assured that I shall never cease to love you strongly and deeply.

In the middle of the month of September last year I received, through the grandduke's special commission of

inquiry, whose humanity you have already appreciated, your dear letters of the end of August and the

beginning of September, which had such magical influence that they inundated me with joy by transporting

"You, my tender father, you write to me on the sixtyseventh anniversary of your birth, and you bless me by

"You, my wellbeloved mother, you deign to promise the continuance of your maternal affection, in which I

have at all times constantly believed; and thus I have received the blessings of both of you, which, in my

present position, will exercise a more beneficent influence upon me than any of the things that all the kings of

the earth, united together, could grant me. Yes, you strengthen me abundantly by your blessed love, and I

render thanks to you, my beloved parents, with that respectful submission that my heart will always inculcate

"But the greater your love and the more affectionate your letters, the more do I suffer, I must acknowledge,

from the voluntary sacrifice that we have imposed upon ourselves in not seeing one another; and the only

reason, my dear parents, why I have delayed to reply to you, was to give myself time to recover the strength

"You too, dear brotherinlaw and dear sister, assure me of your sincere and uninterrupted attachment. And

yet, after the fright that I have spread among you all, you seem not to know exactly what to think of me; but

my heart, full of gratitude for your past kindness, comforts itself ; for your actions speak and tell me that,

even if you wished no longer to love me as I love you, you would not be able to do otherwise. These actions

mean more to me at this hour than any possible protestations, nay, than even the tenderest words.

"And you also, my kind brother, you would have consented to hurry with our beloved mother to the shores of

the Rhine, to this place where the real links of the soul were welded between us, where we were doubly

brothers; but tell me, are you not really here, in thought and in spirit, when I consider the rich fountain of

"And, you, kind sisterinlaw, as you showed yourself from the first, in your delicate tenderness, a true

sister, so I find you again at present. There are still the same tender relations, still the same sisterly affection;

your consolations, which emanate from a deep and submissive piety, have fallen refreshingly into the depths

of my heart. But, dear sisterinlaw, I must tell you, as well as the others, that you are too liberal towards me

in dispensing your esteem and praises, and your exaggeration has cast me back face to face with my inmost

judge, who has shown me in the mirror of my conscience the image of my every weakness.

"You, kind Julia, you desire nothing else but to save me from the fate that awaits me; and you assure me in

your own name and in that of you all, that you, like the others, would rejoice to endure it in my place; in that

I recognise you fully, and I recognise, too, those sweet and tender relations in which we have been brought up

from childhood. Oh, be comforted, dear Julia; thanks to the protection of God, I promise you: that it will be

easy for me, much easier than I should have thought, to bear what falls to my lot. Receive, then, all of you,

"Now that I know from these strengthening letters that, like the prodigal son, the love and goodness of my

family are greater on my return than at my departure, I will, as carefully as possible, paint for you my

physical and moral state, and I pray God to supplement my words by His strength, so that my letter may

contain an equivalent of what yours brought to me, and may help you to reach that state of calm and serenity

"Hardened, by having gained power over myself, against the good and ill of this earth, you knew already that

of late years I have lived only for moral joys, and I must say that, touched by my efforts, doubtless, the Lord,

who is the sacred fount of all that is good, has rendered me apt in seeking them and in tasting them to the full.

God is ever near me, as formerly, and I find in Him the sovereign principle of the creation of all things; in

Him, our holy Father, not only consolation and strength, but an unalterable Friend, full of the holiest love,

who will accompany me in all places where I may need His consolations. Assuredly, if He had turned from

me, or if I had turned away my eyes from Him, I should now find myself very unfortunate and wretched; but

by His grace, on the contrary, lowly and weak creature as I am, He makes me strong and powerful against

"What I have hitherto revered as sacred, what I have desired as good what I have aspired to as heavenly, has

in no respect changed now. And I thank God for it, for I should now be in great despair if I were compelled to

recognise that my heart had adored deceptive images and enwrapped itself in fugitive chimeras. Thus my

faith in these ideas and my pure love far them, guardian angels of my spirit as they are, increase moment by

moment, and will go on increasing to my end, and I hope that I may pass all the more easily from this world

into eternity. I pass my silent life in Christian exaltation and humility, and I sometimes have those visions

from above through which I have, from my birth, adored heaven upon earth, and which give me power to

raise myself to the Lord upon the eager wings of my prayers. My illness, though long, painful, and cruel, has

always been sufficiently mastered by my will to let me busy myself to some result with history, positive

sciences, and the finer parts of religious education, and when my suffering became more violent and for a

time interrupted these occupations, I struggled successfully, nevertheless, against ennui; for the memories of

the past, my resignation to the present, and my faith in the future were rich enough and strong enough in me

and round me to prevent my falling from my terrestrial paradise. According to my principles, I would never,

in the position in which I am and in which I have placed myself, have been willing to ask anything for my

own comfort; but so much kindness and care have been lavished upon me, with so much delicacy and

humanity,which alas! I am unable to returnby every person with whom I have been brought into

contact, that wishes which I should not have dared to frame in the mast private recesses of my heart have

been more than exceeded. I have never been so much overcome by bodily pains that I could not say within

myself, while I lifted my thoughts to heaven, 'Come what may of this ray.' And great as these gains have

been, I could not dream of comparing them with those sufferings of the soul that we feel so profoundly and

"Moreover, these pains seldom now cause me to lose consciousness; the swelling and inflammation never

made great headway, and the fever has always been moderate, though for nearly ten months I have been

forced to remain lying on my back, unable to raise myself, and although more than forty pints of matter have

come from my chest at the place where the heart is. No, an the contrary, the wound, though still open, is in a

good state; and I owe that not only to the excellent nursing around me, but also to the pure blood that I

received from you, my mother. Thus I have lacked neither earthly assistance nor heavenly encouragement.

Thus, on the anniversary of my birth, I had every reasonoh, not to curse the hour in which I was born, but,

on the contrary, after serious contemplation of the world, to thank God and you, my dear parents, for the life

that you have given me! I celebrated it, on the 18th of October, by a peaceful and ardent submission to the

holy will of God. On Christmas Day I tried to put myself into the temper of children who are devoted to the

Lord; and with God's help the new year will pass like its predecessor, in bodily pain, perhaps, but certainly in

spiritual joy. And with this wish, the only one that I form, I address myself to you, my dear parents, and to

"I cannot hope to see a twentyfifth new year; so may the prayer that I have just made be granted! May this

picture of my present state afford you some tranquillity, and may this letter that I write to you from the depths

of my heart not only prove to you that I am not unworthy of the inexpressible love that you all display, but,

"Within the last few days I have also received your dear letter of the 2nd of December, my kind mother, and

the grindduke's commission has deigned to let me also read my kind brother's letter which accompanied

yours. You give me the best of news in regard to the health of all of you, and send me preserved fruits from

our dear home. I thank you for them from the bottom of my heart. What causes me most joy in the matter is

that you have been solicitously busy about me in summer as in winter, and that you and my dear Julia

gathered them and prepared them for me at home, and I abandon my whole soul to that sweet enjoyment.

"I rejoice sincerely at my little cousin's coming into the world; I joyfully congratulate the good parents and

the grandparents; I transport myself, for his baptism, into that beloved parish, where I offer him my affection

"We shall be obliged, I think, to give up this correspondence, so as not to inconvenience the grandduke's

commission. I finish, therefore, by assuring you, once more, but for the last time, perhaps, of my profound

Indeed, from that moment all correspondence between Karl and his family ceased, and he only wrote to them,

We have seen by what attentions Sand was surrounded; their humanity never flagged for an instant. It is the

truth, too, that no one saw in him an ordinary murderer, that many pitied him under their breath, and that

some excused him aloud. The very commission appointed by the grandduke prolonged the affair as much as

possible; for the severity of Sand's wounds had at first given rise to the belief that there would be no need of

calling in the executioner, and the commission was well pleased that God should have undertaken the

execution of the judgment. But these expectations were deceived: the skill of the doctor defeated, not indeed

the wound, but death: Sand did not recover, but he remained alive; and it began to be evident that it would be

Indeed, the Emperor Alexander, who had appointed Kotzebue his councillor, and who was under no

misapprehension as to the cause of the murder, urgently demanded that justice should take its course. The

commission of inquiry was therefore obliged to set to work; but as its members were sincerely desirous of

having some pretext to delay their proceedings, they ordered that a physician from Heidelberg should visit

Sand and make an exact report upon his case; as Sand was kept lying down and as he could not be executed

in his bed, they hoped that the physician's report, by declaring it impossible for the prisoner to rise, would

The chosen doctor came accordingly to Mannheim, and introducing himself to Sand as though attracted by

the interest that he inspired, asked him whether he did not feel somewhat better, and whether it would be

impossible to rise. Sand looked at him for an instant, and then said, with a smile

"I understand, sir; they wish to know whether I am strong enough to mount a scaffold: I know nothing about

With these words he rose, and accomplishing, with superhuman courage, what he had not attempted for

fourteen months, walked twice round the room, came back to his bed, upon which he seated himself, and said

"You see, sir, I am strong enough; it would therefore be wasting precious time to keep my judges longer

about my affair; so let them deliver their judgment, for nothing now prevents its execution."

The doctor made his report; there was no way of retreat; Russia was becoming more and more pressing, and

an the 5th of May 1820 the high court of justice delivered the following judgment, which was confirmed on

"In the matters under investigation and after administration of the interrogatory and hearing the defences, and

considering the united opinions of the court of justice at Mannheim and the further consultations of the court

of justice which declare the accused, Karl Sand of Wonsiedel, guilty of murder, even on his own confession,

upon the person of the Russian imperial Councillor of State, Kotzebue; it is ordered accordingly, for his just

punishment and for an example that may deter other people, that he is to be put from life to death by the

"All the costs of these investigations, including these occasioned by his public execution, will be defrayed

We see that, though it condemned the accused to death, which indeed could hardly be avoided, the sentence

was both in form and substance as mild as possible, since, though Sand was convicted, his poor family was

Five days were still allowed to elapse, and the verdict was not announced until the 17th. When Sand was

informed that two councillors of justice were at the door, he guessed that they were coming to read his

sentence to him; he asked a moment to rise, which he had done but once before, in the instance already

narrated, during fourteen months. And indeed he was so weak that he could not stand to hear the sentence,

and after having greeted the deputation that death sent to him, he asked to sit down, saying that he did so not

from cowardice of soul but from weakness of body; then he added, "You are welcome, gentlemen; far I have

suffered so much for fourteen months past that you come to me as angels of deliverance."

He heard the sentence quite unaffectedly and with a gentle smile upon his lips; then, when the reading was

"I look for no better fate, gentlemen, and when, more than a year ago, I paused on the little hill that overlooks

the town, I saw beforehand the place where my grave would be; and so I ought to thank God and man far

The councillors withdrew; Sand stood up a second time to greet them on their departure, as he had done on

their entrance; then he sat down again pensively in his chair, by which Mr. G, the governor of the prison, was

standing. After a moment of silence, a tear appeared at each of the condemned man's eyelids, and ran down

his cheeks; then, turning suddenly to Mr. G, whom he liked very much, he said, "I hope that my parents

would rather see me die by this violent death than of some slow and shameful disease. As for me, I am glad

that I shall soon hear the hour strike in which my death will satisfy those who hate me, and those wham,

"DEAR PARENTS, BROTHERS, AND SISTERS,You should have received my last letters through the

grandduke's commission; in them I answered yours, and tried to console you for my position by describing

the state of my soul as it is, the contempt to which I have attained for everything fragile and earthly, and by

which one must necessarily be overcome when such matters are weighed against the fulfilment of an idea, or

that intellectual liberty which alone can nourish the soul; in a word, I tried to console you by the assurance

that the feelings, principles, and convictions of which I formerly spoke are faithfully preserved in me and

have remained exactly the same; but I am sure all this was an unnecessary precaution on my part, for there

was never a time when you asked anything else of me than to have God before my eyes and in my heart; and

you have seen how, under your guidance, this precept so passed into my soul that it became my sole object of

happiness for this world and the next; no doubt, as He was in and near me, God will be in and near you at the

moment when this letter brings you the news of my sentence. I die willingly, and the Lord will give me

"I write to you perfectly quiet and calm about all things, and I hope that your lives too will pass calmly and

tranquilly until the moment when our souls meet again full of fresh force to love one another and to share

"As for me, such as I have lived as long as I have known myselfthat is to say, in a serenity full of celestial

desires and a courageous and indefatigable love of liberty, such I am about to die.

>From that moment his serenity remained un troubled; during the whole day he talked more gaily than usual,

slept well, did not awake until halfpast seven, said that he felt stronger, and thanked God for visiting him

The nature of the verdict had been known since the day before, and it had been learned that the execution was

fixed for the 20th of May that is to say, three full days after the sentence had been read to the accused.

Henceforward, with Sand's permission, persons who wished to speak to him and whom he was not reluctant

One was Major Holzungen, of the Baden army, who was in command of the patrol that had arrested him, or

rather picked him up, dying, and carried him to the hospital. He asked him whether he recognised him, and

Sand's head was so clear when he stabbed himself, that although he saw the major only for a moment and had

never seen him again since, he remembered the minutest details of the costume which he had been wearing

fourteen months previously, and which was the fulldress uniform. When the talk fell upon the death to

which Sand was to submit at so early an age, the major pitied him; but Sand answered, with a smile, "There is

only one difference between you and me, major; it is that I shall die far my convictions, and you will die for

After the major came a young student from Jena whom Sand had known at the university. He happened to be

in the duchy of Baden and wished to visit him. Their recognition was touching, and the student wept much;

Then a workman asked to be admitted to see Sand, on the plea that he had been his schoolfellow at

Wonsiedel, and although he did not remember his name, he ordered him to be let in: the workman reminded

him that he had been one of the little army that Sand had commanded on the day of the assault of St.

Catherine's tower. This indication guided Sand, who recognised him perfectly, and then spoke with tender

affection of his native place and his dear mountains. He further charged him to greet his family, and to beg

his mother, father, brothers, and sisters once more not to be grieved on his account, since the messenger who

undertook to deliver his last wards could testify in how calm and joyful a temper he was awaiting death.

To this workman succeeded one of the guests whom Sand had met on the staircase directly after Kotzebue's

death. He asked him whether he acknowledged his crime and whether he felt any repentance. Sand replied, "I

had thought about it during a whole year. I have been thinking of it for fourteen months, and my opinion has

After the departure of this last visitor, Sand sent for Mr. G, the governor of the prison, and told him that

he should like to talk to the executioner before the execution, since he wished to ask for instructions as to

how he should hold himself so as to render the operation most certain and easy. Mr. G made some

objections, but Sand insisted with his usual gentleness, and Mr. G at last promised that the man in

question should be asked to call at the prison as soon as he arrived from Heidelberg, where he lived.

The rest of the day was spent in seeing more visitors and in philosophical and moral talks, in which Sand

developed his social and religious theories with a lucidity of expression and an elevation of thought such as

he had, perhaps, never before shown. The governor of the prison from whom I heard these details, told me

that he should all his life regret that he did not know shorthand, so that he might have noted all these

Night came. Sand spent part of the evening writing; it is thought that he was composing a poem; but no doubt

he burned it, for no trace of it was found. At eleven he went to bed, and slept until six in the morning. Next

day he bore the dressing of his wound, which was always very painful, with extraordinary courage, without

fainting, as he sometimes did, and without suffering a single complaint to escape him: he had spoken the

truth; in the presence of death God gave him the grace of allowing his strength to return. The operation was

over; Sand was lying down as usual, and Mr. G was sitting on the foot of his bed, when the door opened

and a man came in and bowed to Sand and to Mr. G. The governor of the prison immediately stood up,

and said to Sand in a voice the emotion of which he could not conceal, "The person who is bowing to you is

Then Sand's face was lighted up by a strange joy; he sat up and said, "Sir, you are welcome." Then, making

his visitor sit down by his bed, and taking his hand, he began to thank him for being so obliging, and spoke in

so intense a tone and so gentle a voice, that Mr. Widemann, deeply moved, could not answer. Sand

encouraged him to speak and to give him the details for which he wished, and in order to reassure him, said,

"Be firm, sir; for I, on my part, will not fail you: I will not move; and even if you should need two or three

strokes to separate my head from my body, as I am told is sometimes the case, do not be troubled on that

Then Sand rose, leaning on Mr. G, to go through with the executioner the strange and terrible rehearsal

of the drama in which he was to play the leading part on the morrow. Mr. Widemann made him sit in a chair

and take the required position, and went into all the details of the execution with him. Then Sand, perfectly

instructed, begged him not to hurry and to take his time. Then he thanked him beforehand; "for," added he,

"afterwards I shall not be able." Then Sand returned to his bed, leaving the executioner paler and more

trembling than himself. All these details have been preserved by Mr. G; for as to the executioner, his

After Mr. Widemann, three clergymen were introduced, with whom Sand conversed upon religious matters:

one of them stayed six hours with him, and on leaving him told him that he was commissioned to obtain from

him a promise of not speaking to the people at the place of execution. Sand gave the promise, and added,

"Even if I desired to do so, my voice has become so weak that people could not hear it."

Meanwhile the scaffold was being erected in the meadow that extends on the left of the road to Heidelberg. It

was a platform five to six feet high and ten feet wide each way. As it was expected that, thanks to the interest

inspired by the prisoner and to the nearness to Whitsuntide, the crowd would be immense, and as some

movement from the universities was apprehended, the prison guards had been trebled, and General Neustein

had been ordered to Mannheim from Carlsruhe, with twelve hundred infantry, three hundred and fifty

On, the afternoon of the 19th there arrived, as had been foreseen, so many students, who took up their abode

in the neighbouring villages, that it was decided to put forward the hour of the execution, and to let it take

place at five in the morning instead of at eleven, as had been arranged. But Sand's consent was necessary for

this; for he could not be executed until three full days after the reading of his sentence, and as the sentence

had not been read to him till halfpast ten Sand had a right to live till eleven o'clock.

Before four in the morning the officials went into the condemned man's room; he was sleeping so soundly

that they were obliged to awaken him. He opened his eyes with a smile, as was his custom, and guessing why

they came, asked, "Can I have slept so well that it is already eleven in the morning?" They told him that it

was not, but that they had come to ask his permission to put forward the time; for, they told him, same

collision between the students and the soldiers was feared, and as the military preparations were very

thorough, such a collision could not be otherwise than fatal to his friends. Sand answered that he was ready

that very moment, and only asked time enough to take a bath, as the ancients were accustomed to do before

going into battle. But as the verbal authorisation which he had given was not sufficient, a pen and paper were

"I thank the authorities of Mannheim for anticipating my most eager wishes by making my execution six

When Sand had given these two lines to the recorder, the physician came to him to dress his wound, as usual.

Sand looked at him with a smile, and then asked, "Is it really worth the trouble?"

A bath was brought. Sand lay down in it, and had his long and beautiful hair arranged with the greatest care;

then his toilet being completed, he put on a frockcoat of the German shapethat is to say, short and with

the shirt collar turned back aver the shoulders, close white trousers, and high boots. Then Sand seated himself

on his bed and prayed some time in a low voice with the clergy; then, when he had finished, he said these two

He next took leave of the physician and the priests, saying to them, "Do not attribute the emotion of my voice

to weakness but to gratitude." Then, upon these gentlemen offering to accompany him to the scaffold, he

said, "There is no need; I am perfectly prepared, at peace with God and with my conscience. Besides, am I

not almost a Churchman myself?" And when one of them asked whether he was not going out of life in a

An increasing noise was audible from the street, and Sand said again that he was at their disposal and that he

was ready. At this moment the executioner came in with his two assistants; he was dressed in a long wadded

black coat, beneath which he hid his sword. Sand offered him his hand affectionately; and as Mr. Widemann,

embarrassed by the sword which he wished to keep Sand from seeing, did not venture to come forward, Sand

said to him, "Come along and show me your sword; I have never seen one of the kind, and am curious to

Mr. Widemann, pale and trembling, presented the weapon to him; Sand examined it attentively, and tried the

"Come," said he, "the blade is good; do not tremble, and all will go well." Then, turning to Mr. G, who

was weeping, he said to him, "You will be good enough, will you not, to do me the service of leading me to

Mr. G made a sign of assent with his head, for he could not answer. Sand took his arm, and spoke for

the third time, saying once more, "Well, what are you waiting for, gentlemen? I am ready."

When they reached the courtyard, Sand saw all the prisoners weeping at their windows. Although he had

never seen them, they were old friends of his; for every time they passed his door, knowing that the student

who had killed Kotzebue lay within, they used to lift their chain, that he might not be disturbed by the noise.

All Mannheim was in the streets that led to the place of execution, and many patrols were passing up and

down. On the day when the sentence was announced the whole town had been sought through for a chaise in

which to convey Sand to the scaffold, but no one, not even the coachbuilders, would either let one out or

sell one; and it had been necessary, therefore, to buy one at Heidelberg without saying for what purpose.

Sand found this chaise in the courtyard, and got into it with Mr. G . Turning to him, he whispered in his

ear, " Sir, if you see me turn pale, speak my name to me, my name only, do you hear? That will be enough."

The prison gate was opened, and Sand was seen; then every voice cried with one impulse, "Farewell, Sand,

And at the same time flowers, some of which fell into the carriage, were thrown by the crowd that thronged

the street, and from the windows. At these friendly cries and at this spectacle, Sand, who until then had

shown no moment of weakness, felt tears rising in spite of himself, and while he returned the greetings made

This first outburst over, the procession set out amid deep silence; only now and again same single voice

would call out, "Farewell, Sand!" and a handkerchief waved by some hand that rose out of the crowd would

show from what paint the last call came. On each side of the chaise walked two of the prison officials, and

The air was very cold: it had rained all night, and the dark and cloudy sky seemed to share in the general

sadness. Sand, too weak to remain sitting up, was half lying upon the shoulder of Mr. G, his

companion; his face was gentle, calm and full of pain; his brow free and open, his features, interesting though

without regular beauty, seemed to have aged by several years during the fourteen months of suffering that

had just elapsed. The chaise at last reached the place of execution, which was surrounded by a battalion of

infantry; Sand lowered his eyes from heaven to earth and saw the scaffold. At this sight he smiled gently, and

The governor of the prison and the chief officials lifted him that he might go up the steps. During that short

ascent pain kept him bowed, but when he had reached the top he stood erect again, saying, "Here then is the

Then before he came to the chair on which he was to be seated for the execution, he turned his eyes towards

Mannheim, and his gaze travelled over all the throng that surrounded him; at that moment a ray of sunshine

Then, as, according to the orders given, his sentence was to be read to him a second time, he was asked

whether he felt strong enough to hear it standing. Sand answered that he would try, and that if his physical

strength failed him, his moral strength would uphold him. He rose immediately from the fatal chair, begging

Mr. Gto stand near enough to support him if he should chance to stagger. The precaution was

After the judgment had been read, he sat down again and said in a laud voice, "I die trusting in God."

"True," he answered; "I had forgotten." He was silent, therefore, to the crowd; but, raising his right hand and

extending it solemnly in the air, he said in a low voice, so that he might be heard only by those who were

Then, with these words, he did as Conradin did with his glove; he threw his rolledup handkerchief over the

Only a few curls were cut off, those only which fell at the back, the others were tied with a ribbon on the top

of the head. The executioner then tied his hands on his breast, but as that position was oppressive to him and

compelled him an account of his wound to bend his head, his hands were laid flat on his thighs and fixed in

that position with ropes. Then, when his eyes were about to be bound, he begged Mr. Widemann to place the

bandage in such a manner that he could see the light to his last moment. His wish was fulfilled.

Then a profound and mortal stillness hovered over the whole crowd and surrounded the scaffold. The

executioner drew his sword, which flashed like lightning and fell. Instantly a terrible cry rose at once from

twenty thousand bosoms; the head had not fallen, and though it had sunk towards the breast still held to the

neck. The executioner struck a second time, and struck off at the same blow the head and a part of the hand.

In the same moment, notwithstanding the efforts of the soldiers, their line was broken through; men and

women rushed upon the scaffold, the blood was wiped up to the last drop with handkerchiefs; the chair upon

which Sand had sat was broken and divided into pieces, and those who could not obtain one, cut fragments of

The head and body were placed in a coffin draped with black, and carried back, with a large military escort,

to the prison. At midnight the body was borne silently, without torches or lights, to the Protestant cemetery,

in which Kotzebue had been buried fourteen months previously. A grave had been mysteriously dug; the

coffin was lowered into it, and those who were present at the burial were sworn upon the New Testament not

to reveal the spot where Sand was buried until such time as they were freed from their oath. Then the grave

was covered again with the turf, that had been skilfully taken off, and that was relaid on the same spat, so that

no new grave could be perceived; then the nocturnal gravediggers departed, leaving guards at the entrance.

There, twenty paces apart, Sand and Kotzebue rest: Kotzebue opposite the gate in the most conspicuous spot

"The world persecuted him without pity, Calumny was his sad portion, He found no happiness save in the

arms of his wife, And no repose save in the bosom of death. Envy dogged him to cover his path with thorns,

In contrast with this tall and showy monument, standing, as we have said, in the most conspicuous spot of the

cemetery, Sand's grave must be looked far in the corner to the extreme left of the entrance gate; and a wild

plum tree, some leaves of which every passing traveller carries away, rises alone upon the grave, which is

As far the meadow in which Sand was executed, it is still called by the people "Sand's Himmelsfartsweise,"

Toward the end of September, 1838, we were at Mannheim, where I had stayed three days in order to collect

all the details I could find about the life and death of KarlLudwig Sand. But at the end of these three days, in

spite of my active investigations, these details still remained extremely incomplete, either because I applied in

the wrong quarters, or because, being a foreigner, I inspired same distrust in those to whom I applied. I was

leaving Mannheim, therefore, somewhat disappointed, and after having visited the little Protestant cemetery

where Sand and Kotzebue are buried at twenty paces from each other, I had ordered my driver to take the

road to Heidelberg, when, after going a few yards, he, who knew the object of my inquiries, stopped of

himself and asked me whether I should not like to see the place where Sand was executed. At the same time

he pointed to a little mound situated in the middle of a meadow and a few steps from a brook. I assented

eagerly, and although the driver remained on the highroad with my travelling companions, I soon recognised

the spot indicated, by means of some relics of cypress branches, immortelles, and forgetmenots scattered

upon the earth. It will readily be understood that this sight, instead of diminishing my desire for information,

increased it. I was feeling, then, more than ever dissatisfied at going away, knowing so little, when I saw a

man of some fiveandforty to fifty years old, who was walking a little distance from the place where I

myself was, and who, guessing the cause that drew me thither, was looking at me with curiosity. I determined

to make a last effort, and going up to him, I said, "Oh, sir, I am a stranger; I am travelling to collect all the

rich and poetic traditions of your Germany. By the way in which you look at me, I guess that you know

which of them attracts me to this meadow. Could you give me any information about the life and death of

"With what object, sir?" the person to whom I spoke asked me in almost unintelligible French.

"With a very German object, be assured, sir," I replied. "From the little I have learned, Sand seems to me to

be one of those ghosts that appear only the greater and the more poetic for being wrapped in a shroud stained

with blood. But he is not known in France; he might be put on the same level there with a Fieschi or a

Meunier, and I wish, to the best of my ability, to enlighten the minds of my countrymen about him."

"It would be a great pleasure to me, sir, to assist in such an undertaking; but you see that I can scarcely speak

French; you do not speak German at all; so that we shall find it difficult to understand each other."

"If that is all," I returned, "I have in my carriage yonder an interpreter, or rather an interpretress, with whom

you will, I hope, be quite satisfied, who speaks German like Goethe, and to whom, when you have once

"Let us go, then, sir," answered the pedestrian. "I ask no better than to be agreeable to you."

We walked toward the carriage, which was still waiting on the highroad, and I presented to my travelling

companion the new recruit whom I had just gained. The usual greetings were exchanged, and the dialogue

began in the purest Saxon. Though I did not understand a word that was said, it was easy for me to see, by the

rapidity of the questions and the length of the answers, that the conversation was most interesting. At last, at

the end of half an hours growing desirous of knowing to what point they had come, I said, "Well?"

"Well," answered my interpreter, "you are in luck's way, and you could not have asked a better person."

"For nine monthsthat is to say, from the day he left the hospital this gentleman saw him every day."

"But that is not all: this gentleman was with him in the carriage that took him to execution; this gentleman

was with him on the scaffold; there's only one portrait of Sand in all Mannheim, and this gentleman has it."

I was devouring every word; a mental alchemist, I was opening my crucible and finding gold in it.

"Just ask," I resumed eagerly, "whether the gentleman will allow us to take down in writing the particulars

Mr. G got into the carriage with us, and instead of going on to Heidelberg, we returned to Mannheim,

Mr. G did not once depart from the ready kindness that he had shown. In the most obliging manner,

patient over the minutest trifles, and remembering most happily, he went over every circumstance, putting

himself at my disposal like a professional guide. At last, when every particular about Sand had been sucked

dry, I began to ask him about the manner in which executions were performed. "As to that," said he, "I can

offer you an introduction to someone at Heidelberg who can give you all the information you can wish for

I accepted gratefully, and as I was taking leave of Mr. G, after thanking him a thousand times, he

handed me the offered letter. It bore this superscription : "To Herrdoctor Widemann, No. III High Street,

"Really?" said I. "With us it is just the contrary; surgeons are called executioners."

"You will find him, moreover," added Mr. G, "a very distinguished young man, who, although he was

very young at that time, has retained a vivid recollection of that event. As for his poor father, I think he would

as willingly have cut off his own right hand as have executed Sand; but if he had refused, someone else

would have been found. So he had to do what he was ordered to do, and he did his best."

I thanked Mr. G, fully resolving to make use of his letter, and we left for Heidelberg, where we arrived

My first visit next day was to Dr. Widernann. It was not without some emotion, which, moreover, I saw

reflected upon, the faces of my travelling companions, that I rang at the door of the last judge, as the Germans

call him. An old woman opened the door to us, and ushered us into a pretty little study, on the left of a

passage and at the foot of a staircase, where we waited while Mr. Widemann finished dressing. This little

room was full of curiosities, madrepores, shells, stuffed birds, and dried plants; a double barrelled gun, a

After a moment we heard his footstep, and the door opened. Mr. Widemann was a very handsome young

man, of thirty or thirtytwo, with black whiskers entirely surrounding his manly and expressive face; his

morning dress showed a certain rural elegance. He seemed at first not only embarrassed but pained by our

visit. The aimless curiosity of which he seemed to be the object was indeed odd. I hastened to give him Mr. G

's letter and to tell him what reason brought me. Then he gradually recovered himself, and at last showed

himself no less hospitable and obliging towards us than he to whom we owed the introduction had been, the

Mr. Widemann then gathered together all his remembrances; he, too, had retained a vivid recollection of

Sand, and he told us among other things that his father, at the risk of bringing himself into ill odour, had

asked leave to have a new scaffold made at his own expense, so that no other criminal might be executed

upon the altar of the martyr's death. Permission had been given, and Mr. Widemann had used the wood of the

scaffold for the doors and windows of a little country house standing in a vineyard. Then for three or four

years this cottage became a shrine for pilgrims; but after a time, little by little, the crowd grew less, and at the

present day, when some of those who wiped the blood from the scaffold with their handkerchiefs have

became public functionaries, receiving salaries from Government, only foreigners ask, now and again, to see

Mr. Widemann gave me a guide; for, after hearing everything, I wanted to see everything. The house stands

half a league away from Heidelberg, on the left of the road to Carlsruhe, and halfway up the mountainside.

Our readers will judge better from this anecdote than from anything more we could say, what sort of man he

On Sunday, the 26th of November, 1631, there was great excitement in the little town of Loudun, especially

in the narrow streets which led to the church of SaintPierre in the marketplace, from the gate of which the

town was entered by anyone coming from the direction of the abbey of SaintJouinlesMarmes. This

excitement was caused by the expected arrival of a personage who had been much in people's mouths latterly

in Loudun, and about whom there was such difference of opinion that discussion on the subject between

those who were on his side and those who were against him was carried on with true provincial acrimony. It

was easy to see, by the varied expressions on the faces of those who turned the doorsteps into improvised

debating clubs, how varied were the feelings with which the man would be welcomed who had himself

About nine o'clock a kind of sympathetic vibration ran through the crowd, and with the rapidity of a flash of

lightning the words, "There he is! there he is!" passed from group to group. At this cry some withdrew into

their houses and shut their doors and darkened their windows, as if it were a day of public mourning, while

others opened them wide, as if to let joy enter. In a few moments the uproar and confusion evoked by the

Then, through the silence, a figure advanced, carrying a branch of laurel in one hand as a token of triumph. It

was that of a young man of from thirtytwo to thirtyfour years of age, with a graceful and wellknit frame,

an aristocratic air and faultlessly beautiful features of a somewhat haughty expression. Although he had

walked three leagues to reach the town, the ecclesiastical garb which he wore was not only elegant but of

dainty freshness. His eyes turned to heaven, and singing in a sweet voice praise to the Lord, he passed

through the streets leading to the church in the marketplace with a slow and solemn gait, without

vouchsafing a look, a word, or a gesture to anyone. The entire crowd, falling into step, marched behind him

as he advanced, singing like him, the singers being the prettiest girls in Loudun, for we have forgotten to say

Meanwhile the object of all this commotion arrived at length at the porch of the church of SaintPierre.

Ascending the steps, he knelt at the top and prayed in a low voice, then rising he touched the church doors

with his laurel branch, and they opened wide as if by magic, revealing the choir decorated and illuminated as

if for one of the four great feasts of the year, and with all its scholars, choir boys, singers, beadles, and

vergers in their places. Glancing around, he for whom they were waiting came up the nave, passed through

the choir, knelt for a second time at the foot of the altar, upon which he laid the branch of laurel, then putting

on a robe as white as snow and passing the stole around his neck, he began the celebration of the mass before

a congregation composed of all those who had followed him. At the end of the mass a Te Deum was sung.

He who had just rendered thanks to God for his own victory with all the solemn ceremonial usually reserved

for the triumphs of kings was the priest Urbain Grandier. Two days before, he had been acquitted, in virtue of

a decision pronounced by M. d'Escoubleau de Sourdis, Archbishop of Bordeaux, of an accusation brought

against him of which he had been declared guilty by a magistrate, and in punishment of which he had been

condemned to fast on bread and water every Friday for three months, and forbidden to exercise his priestly

functions in the diocese of Poitiers for five years and in the town of Loudun for ever.

These are the circumstances under which the sentence had been passed and the judgment reversed.

Urbain Grandier was born at Rovere, a village near Sable, a little town of BasMaine. Having studied the

sciences with his father Pierre and his uncle Claude Grandier, who were learned astrologers and alchemists,

he entered, at the age of twelve, the Jesuit college at Bordeaux, having already received the ordinary

education of a young man. The professors soon found that besides his considerable attainments he had great

natural gifts for languages and oratory; they therefore made of him a thorough classical scholar, and in order

to develop his oratorical talent encouraged him to practise preaching. They soon grew very fond of a pupil

who was likely to bring them so much credit, and as soon as he was old enough to take holy orders they gave

him the cure of souls in the parish of Saint Pierre in Loudun, which was in the gift of the college. When he

had been some months installed there as a priestincharge, he received a prebendal stall, thanks to the same

It is easy to understand that the bestowal of these two positions on so young a man, who did not even belong

to the province, made him seem in some sort a usurper of rights and privileges belonging to the people of the

country, and drew upon him the envy of his brother ecclesiastics. There were, in fact, many other reasons

why Urbain should be an object of jealousy to these: first, as we have already said, he was very handsome,

then the instruction which he had received from his father had opened the world of science to him and given

him the key to a thousand things which were mysteries to the ignorant, but which he fathomed with the

greatest ease. Furthermore, the comprehensive course of study which he had followed at the Jesuit college

had raised him above a crowd of prejudices, which are sacred to the vulgar, but for which he made no secret

of his contempt; and lastly, the eloquence of his sermons had drawn to his church the greater part of the

regular congregations of the other religious communities, especially of the mendicant orders, who had till

then, in what concerned preaching, borne away the palm at Loudun. As we have said, all this was more than

enough to excite, first jealousy, and then hatred. And both were excited in no ordinary degree.

We all know how easily the illnatured gossip of a small town can rouse the angry contempt of the masses

for everything which is beyond or above them. In a wider sphere Urbain would have shone by his many gifts,

but, cooped up as he was within the walls of a little town and deprived of air and space, all that might have

It was also unfortunate for Urbain that his character, far from winning pardon for his genius, augmented the

hatred which the latter inspired. Urbain, who in his intercourse with his friends was cordial and agreeable,

was sarcastic, cold, and haughty to his enemies. When he had once resolved on a course, he pursued it

unflinchingly; he jealously exacted all the honour due to the rank at which he had arrived, defending it as

though it were a conquest; he also insisted on enforcing all his legal rights, and he resented the opposition and

angry words of casual opponents with a harshness which made them his lifelong enemies.

The first example which Urbain gave of this inflexibility was in 1620, when he gained a lawsuit against a

priest named Meunier. He caused the sentence to be carried out with such rigour that he awoke an

inextinguishable hatred in Meunier's mind, which ever after burst forth on the slightest provocation.

A second lawsuit, which he likewise gained; was one which he undertook against the chapter of SainteCroix

with regard to a house, his claim to which the chapter, disputed. Here again he displayed the same

determination to exact his strict legal rights to the last iota, and unfortunately Mignon, the attorney of the

unsuccessful chapter, was a revengeful, vindictive, and ambitious man; too commonplace ever to arrive at a

high position, and yet too much above his surroundings to be content with the secondary position which he

occupied. This man, who was a canon of the collegiate church of SainteCroix and director of the Ursuline

convent, will have an important part to play in the following narrative. Being as hypocritical as Urbain was

straightforward, his ambition was to gain wherever his name was known a reputation for exalted piety; he

therefore affected in his life the asceticism of an anchorite and the selfdenial of a saint. As he had much

experience in ecclesiastical lawsuits, he looked on the chapter's loss of this one, of which he had in some sort

guaranteed the success, as a personal humiliation, so that when Urbain gave himself airs of triumph and

exacted the last letter of his bond, as in the case of Meunier, he turned Mignon into an enemy who was not

In the meantime, and in consequence of this lawsuit, a certain Barot, an uncle of Mignon and his partner as

well, got up a dispute with Urbain, but as he was a man below mediocrity, Urbain required in order to crush

him only to let fall from the height of his superiority a few of those disdainful words which brand as deeply

as a redhot iron. This man, though totally wanting in parts, was very rich, and having no children was

always surrounded by a horde of relatives, every one of whom was absorbed in the attempt to make himself

so agreeable that his name would appear in Barot's will. This being so, the mocking words which were rained

down on Barot spattered not only himself but also all those who had sided with him in the quarrel, and thus

About this epoch a still graver event took place. Amongst the most assiduous frequenters of the confessional

in his church was a young and pretty girl, Julie by name, the daughter of the king's attorney,

TrinquantTrinquant being, as well as Barot, an uncle of Mignon. Now it happened that this young girl fell

into such a state of debility that she was obliged to keep her room. One of her friends, named Marthe

Pelletier, giving up society, of which she was very fond, undertook to nurse the patient, and carried her

devotion so far as to shut herself up in the same room with her. When Julie Trinquant had recovered and was

able again to take her place in the world, it came out that Marthe Pelletier, during her weeks of retirement,

had given birth to a child, which had been baptized and then put out to nurse. Now, by one of those odd

whims which so often take possession of the public mind, everyone in Loudun persisted in asserting that the

real mother of the infant was not she who had acknowledged herself as suchthat, in short, Marthe Pelletier

had sold her good name to her friend Julie for a sum of money; and of course it followed as a matter about

Trinquant hearing of the reports about his daughter, took upon himself as king's attorney to have Marthe

Pelletier arrested and imprisoned. Being questioned about the child, she insisted that she was its mother, and

would take its maintenance upon herself. To have brought a child into the world under such circumstances

was a sin, but not a crime; Trinquant was therefore obliged to set Marthe at liberty, and the abuse of justice of

which he was guilty served only to spread the scandal farther and to strengthen the public in the belief it had

Hitherto, whether through the intervention of the heavenly powers, or by means of his own cleverness,

Urbain Grandier had come out victor in every struggle in which he had engaged, but each victor had added to

the number of his enemies, and these were now so numerous that any other than he would have been alarmed,

and have tried either to conciliate them or to take precautions against their malice; but Urbain, wrapped in his

pride, and perhaps conscious of his innocence, paid no attention to the counsels of his most faithful followers,

All the opponents whom till now Urbain had encountered had been entirely unconnected with each other, and

had each struggled for his own individual ends. Urbain's enemies, believing that the cause of his success was

to be found in the want of cooperation among themselves, now determined to unite in order to crush him. In

consequence, a conference was held at Barot's, at which, besides Barot himself, Meunier, Trinquant, and

Mignon took part, and the latter had also brought with him one Menuau, a king's counsel and his own most

intimate friend, who was, however, influenced by other motives than friendship in joining the conspiracy.

The fact was, that Menuau was in love with a woman who had steadfastly refused to show him any favour,

and he had got firmly fixed in his head that the reason for her else inexplicable indifference and disdain was

that Urbain had been beforehand with him in finding an entrance to her heart. The object of the meeting was

to agree as to the best means of driving the common enemy out of Loudon and its neighbourhood.

Urbain's life was so well ordered that it presented little which his enemies could use as a handle for their

purpose. His only foible seemed to be a predilection for female society; while in return all the wives and

daughters of the place, with the unerring instinct of their sex, seeing, that the new priest was young,

handsome, and eloquent, chose him, whenever it was possible, as their spiritual director. As this preference

had already offended many husbands and fathers, the decision the conspirators arrived at was that on this side

alone was Grandier vulnerable, and that their only chance of success was to attack him where he was

weakest. Almost at once, therefore, the vague reports which had been floating about began to attain a certain

definiteness: there were allusions made, though no name was mentioned, to a young girl in Loudun; who in

spite of Grandier's frequent unfaithfulness yet remained his mistressin chief; then it began to be whispered

that the young girl, having had conscientious scruples about her love for Urbain, he had allayed them by an

act of sacrilegethat is to say, he had, as priest, in the middle of the night, performed the service of marriage

between himself and his mistress. The more absurd the reports, the more credence did they gain, and it was

not long till everyone in Loudun believed them true, although no one was able to name the mysterious

heroine of the tale who had had the courage to contract a marriage with a priest; and considering how small

Resolute and full of courage as was Grandier, at length he could not conceal from himself that his path lay

over quicksands: he felt that slander was secretly closing him round, and that as soon as he was well

entangled in her shiny folds, she would reveal herself by raising her abhorred head, and that then a mortal

combat between them would begin. But it was one of his convictions that to draw back was to acknowledge

one's guilt; besides, as far as he was concerned, it was probably too late for him to retrace his steps. He

Among those who were supposed to be most active in spreading the slanders relative to Urbain was a man

called Duthibaut, a person of importance in the province, who was supposed by the townspeople to hold very

advanced views, and who was a "Sir Oracle" to whom the commonplace and vulgar turned for enlightenment.

Some of this man's strictures on Grandier were reported to the latter, especially some calumnies to which

Duthibaut had given vent at the Marquis de Bellay's; and one day, Grandier, arrayed in priestly garments, was

about to enter the church of SainteCroix to assist in the service, he encountered Duthibaut at the entrance,

and with his usual haughty disdain accused him of slander. Duthibaut, who had got into the habit of saying

and doing whatever came into his head without fear of being called to account, partly because of his wealth

and partly because of the influence he had gained over the narrowminded, who are so numerous in a small

provincial town, and who regarded him as being much above them, was so furious at this public reprimand,

The opportunity which this affront afforded Grandier of being revenged on all his enemies was too precious

to be neglected, but, convinced, with too much reason, that he would never obtain justice from the local

authorities, although the respect due to the Church had been infringed, in his person he decided to appeal to

King Louis XIII, who deigned to receive him, and deciding that the insult offered to a priest robed in the

sacred vestments should be expiated, sent the cause to the high court of Parliament, with instructions that the

Hereupon Urbain's enemies saw they had no time to lose, and took advantage of his absence to make counter

accusations against him. Two worthies beings, named Cherbonneau and Bugrau, agreed to become informers,

and were brought before the ecclesiastical magistrate at Poitiers. They accused Grandier of having corrupted

women and girls, of indulging in blasphemy and profanity, of neglecting to read his breviary daily, and of

turning God's sanctuary into a place of debauchery and prostitution. The information was taken down, and

Louis Chauvet, the civil lieutenant, and the archpriest of Saint Marcel and the Loudenois, were appointed to

investigate the matter, so that, while Urbain was instituting proceedings against Duthibaut in Paris,

information was laid against himself in Loudun. This matter thus set going was pushed forward with all the

acrimony so common in religious prosecutions; Trinquant appeared as a witness, and drew many others after

him, and whatever omissions were found in the depositions were interpolated according to the needs of the

prosecution. The result was that the case when fully got up appeared to be so serious that it was sent to the

Bishop of Poitiers for trial. Now the bishop was not only surrounded by the friends of those who were

bringing the accusations against Grandier, but had himself a grudge against him. It had happened some time

before that Urbain, the case being urgent, had dispensed with the usual notice of a marriage, and the bishop,

knowing this, found in the papers laid before him, superficial as they were, sufficient evidence against Urbain

to justify him in issuing a warrant for his apprehension, which was drawn up in the following words:

"HenriLouis, Chataignier de la Rochepezai, by divine mercy Bishop of Poitiers, in view of the charges and

informations conveyed to us by the archpriest of Loudun against Urbain Grandier, priestincharge of the

Church of SaintPierre in the MarketPlace at Loudun, in virtue of a commission appointed by us directed to

the said archpriest, or in his absence to the Prior of Chassaignes, in view also of the opinion given by our

attorney upon the said charges, have ordered and do hereby order that Urbain Grandier, the accused, be

quietly taken to the prison in our palace in Poitiers, if it so be that he be taken and apprehended, and if not,

that he be summoned to appear at his domicile within three days, by the first apparitorpriest, or tonsured

clerk, and also by the first royal sergeant, upon this warrant, and we request the aid of the secular authorities,

and to them, or to any one of them, we hereby give power and authority to carry out this decree

notwithstanding any opposition or appeal, and the said Grandier having been heard, such a decision will be

"Given at Dissay the 22nd day of October 1629, and signed in the original as follows:

Grandier was, as we have said, at Paris when these proceedings were taken against him, conducting before

the Parliament his case against Duthibaut. The latter received a copy of the decision arrived at by the bishop,

before Grandier knew of the charges that had been formulated against him, and having in the course of his

defence drawn a terrible picture of the immorality of Grandier's life, he produced as a proof of the truth of his

assertions the damning document which had been put into his hands. The court, not knowing what to think of

the turn affairs had taken, decided that before considering the accusations brought by Grandier, he must

appear before his bishop to clear himself of the charges, brought against himself. Consequently he left Paris

at once, and arrived at Loudun, where he only stayed long enough to learn what had happened in his absence,

and then went on to Poitiers in order to draw up his defence. He had, however, no sooner set foot in the place

than he was arrested by a sheriff's officer named Chatry, and confined in the prison of the episcopal palace.

It was the middle of November, and the prison was at all times cold and damp, yet no attention was paid to

Grandier's request that he should be transferred to some other place of confinement. Convinced by this that

his enemies had more influence than he had supposed, he resolved to possess his soul in patience, and

remained a prisoner for two months, during which even his warmest friends believed him lost, while

Duthibaut openly laughed at the proceedings instituted against himself, which he now believed would never

go any farther, and Barot had already selected one of his heirs, a certain Ismael Boulieau, as successor to

It was arranged that the costs of the lawsuit should be defrayed out of a fund raised by the prosecutors, the

rich paying for the poor; for as all the witnesses lived at Loudun and the trial was to take place at Poitiers,

considerable expense would be incurred by the necessity of bringing so many people such a distance; but the

lust of vengeance proved stronger than the lust of gold; the subscription expected from each being estimated

according to his fortune, each paid without a murmur, and at the end of two months the case was concluded.

In spite of the evident pains taken by the prosecution to strain the evidence against the defendant, the

principal charge could not be sustained, which was that he had led astray many wives and daughters in

Loudun. No one woman came forward to complain of her ruin by Grandier; the name of no single victim of

his alleged immorality was given. The conduct of the case was the most extraordinary ever seen; it was

evident that the accusations were founded on hearsay and not on fact, and yet a decision and sentence against

Grandier were pronounced on January 3rd, 1630. The sentence was as follows: For three months to fast each

Friday on bread and water by way of penance; to be inhibited from the performance of clerical functions in

Both parties appealed from this decision: Grandier to the Archbishop of Bordeaux, and his adversaries, on the

advice of the attorney to the diocese, pleading a miscarriage of justice, to the Parliament of Paris; this last

appeal being made in order to overwhelm Grandier and break his spirit. But Grandier's resolution enabled

him to face this attack boldly: he engaged counsel to defend his case before the Parliament, while he himself

conducted his appeal to the Archbishop of Bordeaux. But as there were many necessary witnesses, and it was

almost impossible to bring them all such a great distance, the archiepiscopal court sent the appeal to the

presidial court of Poitiers. The public prosecutor of Poitiers began a fresh investigation, which being

conducted with impartiality was not encouraging to Grandier's accusers. There had been many conflicting

statements made by the witnesses, and these were now repeated: other witnesses had declared quite openly

that they had been bribed; others again stated that their depositions had been tampered with; and amongst

these latter was a certain priest named Mechin, and also that Ishmael Boulieau whom Barot had been in such

a hurry to select as candidate for the reversion of Grandier's preferments. Boulieau's deposition has been lost,

but we can lay Mechin's before the reader, for the original has been preserved, just as it issued from his pen:

"I, Gervais Mechin, curateincharge of the Church of SaintPierre in the Market Place at Loudun, certify by

these presents, signed by my hand, to relieve my conscience as to a certain report which is being spread

abroad, that I had said in support of an accusation brought by Gilles Robert, archpriest, against Urbain

Grandier, priestincharge of SaintPierre, that I had found the said Grandier lying with women and girls in

"ITEM, that on several different occasions, at unsuitable hours both day and night, I had seen women and

girls disturb the said Grandier by going into his bedroom, and that some of the said women remained with

him from one o'clock in the after noon till three o'clock the next morning, their maids bringing them their

"ITEM, that I had seen the said Grandier in the church, the doors being open, but that as soon as some women

As I earnestly desire that such reports should cease, I declare by these presents that I have never seen the said

Grandier with women or girls in the church, the doors being closed; that I have never found him there alone

with women or girls; that when he spoke to either someone else was always present, and the doors were open;

and as to their posture, I think I made it sufficiently clear when in the witnessbox that Grandier was seated

and the women scattered over the church; furthermore, I have never seen either women or girls enter

Grandier's bedroom either by day or night, although it is true that I have heard people in the corridor coming

and going late in the evening, who they were I cannot say, but a brother of the said Grandier sleeps close by;

neither have I any knowledge that either women or girls, had their suppers brought to the said room. I have

also never said that he neglected the reading of his breviary, because that would be contrary to the truth,

seeing that on several occasions he borrowed mine and read his hours in it. I also declare that I have never

seen him close the doors of the church, and that whenever I have seen him speaking to women I have never

noticed any impropriety; I have not ever seen him touch them in any way, they have only spoken together;

and if anything is found in my deposition contrary to the above, it is without my knowledge, and was never

read to me, for I would not have signed it, and I say and affirm all this in homage to the truth.

In the face of such proofs of innocence none of the accusations could be considered as established and so,

according to the decision of the presidial court of Poitiers, dated the 25th of May 1634, the decision of the

bishop's court was reversed, and Grandier was acquitted of the charges brought against him. However, he had

still to appear before the Archbishop of Bordeaux, that his acquittal might be ratified. Grandier took

advantage of a visit which the archbishop paid to his abbey at SaintJouinlesMarmes, which was only

three leagues from Loudun, to make this appearance; his adversaries, who were discouraged by the result of

the proceedings at Poitiers, scarcely made any defence, and the archbishop, after an examination which

brought clearly to light the innocence of the accused, acquitted and absolved him.

The rehabilitation of Grandier before his bishop had two important results: the first was that it clearly

established his innocence, and the second that it brought into prominence his high attainments and eminent

qualities. The archbishop seeing the persecutions to which he was subjected, felt a kindly interest in him, and

advised him to exchange into some other diocese, leaving a town the principal inhabitants of which appeared

to have vowed him a relentless hate. But such an abandonment of his rights was foreign to the character of

Urbain, and he declared to his superior that, strong in His Grace's approbation and the testimony of his own

conscience, he would remain in the place to which God had called him. Monseigneur de Sourdis did not feel

it his duty to urge Urbain any further, but he had enough insight into his character to perceive that if Urbain

should one day fall, it would be, like Satan, through pride; for he added another sentence to his decision,

recommending him to fulfil the duties of his office with discretion and modesty, according to the decrees of

the Fathers and the canonical constitutions. The triumphal entry of Urbain into Loudun with which we began

Urbain Granadier was not satisfied with the arrogant demonstration by which he signalised his return, which

even his friends had felt to be ill advised; instead of allowing the hate he had aroused to die away or at least

to fall asleep by letting the past be past, he continued with more zeal than ever his proceedings against

Duthibaut, and succeeded in obtaining a decree from the Parliament of La Tournelle, by which Duthibaut was

summoned before it, and obliged to listen bareheaded to a reprimand, to offer apologies, and to pay damages

Having thus got the better of one enemy, Urbain turned on the others, and showed himself more indefatigable

in the pursuit of justice than they had been in the pursuit of vengeance. The decision of the archbishop had

given him a right to a sum of money for compensation, and interest thereon, as well as to the restitution of the

revenues of his livings, and there being some demur made, he announced publicly that he intended to exact

this reparation to the uttermost farthing, and set about collecting all the evidence which was necessary for the

success of a new lawsuit for libel and forgery which he intended to begin. It was in vain that his friends

assured him that the vindication of his innocence had been complete and brilliant, it was in vain that they

tried to convince him of the danger of driving the vanquished to despair, Urbain replied that he was ready to

endure all the persecutions which his enemies might succeed in inflicting on him, but as long as he felt that

Grandier's adversaries soon became conscious of the storm which was gathering above their heads, and

feeling that the struggle between themselves and this man would be one of life or death, Mignon, Barot,

Meunier, Duthibaut, and Menuau met Trinquant at the village of Pindadane, in a house belonging to the

latter, in order to consult about the dangers which threatened them. Mignon had, however, already begun to

weave the threads of a new intrigue, which he explained in full to the others; they lent a favourable ear, and

his plan was adopted. We shall see it unfold itself by degrees, for it is the basis of our narrative.

We have already said that Mignon was the director of the convent of Ursulines at Loudun: Now the Ursuline

order was quite modern, for the historic controversies to which the slightest mention of the martyrdom of St.

Ursula and her eleven thousand virgins gave rise, had long hindered the foundation of an order in the saint's

honour. However, in 1560 Madame Angele de Bresse established such an order in Italy, with the same rules

as the Augustinian order. This gained the approbation of Pope Gregory XIII in 1572. In 1614, Madeleine

Lhuillier, with the approval of Pope Paul V, introduced this order into France, by founding a convent at Paris,

whence it rapidly spread over the whole kingdom, sothat in 1626, only six years before the time when the

events just related took place, a sisterhood was founded in the little town of Loudun.

Although this community at first consisted entirely of ladies of good family, daughters of nobles, officers,

judges, and the better class of citizens, and numbered amongst its founders Jeanne de Belfield, daughter of

the late Marquis of Cose, and relative of M. de Laubardemont, Mademoiselle de Fazili, cousin of the

cardinalduke, two ladies of the house of Barbenis de Nogaret, Madame de Lamothe, daughter of the

Marquis LamotheBarace of Anjou, and Madame d'Escoubleau de Sourdis, of the same family as the

Archbishop of Bordeaux, yet as these nuns had almost all entered the convent because of their want of

fortune, the community found itself at the time of its establishment richer in blood than in money, and was

obliged instead of building to purchase a private house. The owner of this house was a certain Moussaut du

Frene, whose brother was a priest. This brother, therefore, naturally became the first director of these godly

women. Less than a year after his appointment he died, and the directorship became vacant.

The Ursulines had bought the house in which they lived much below its normal value, for it was regarded as a

haunted house by all the town. The landlord had rightly thought that there was no better way of getting rid of

the ghosts than to confront them with a religious sisterhood, the members of which, passing their days in

fasting and prayer, would be hardly likely to have their nights disturbed by bad spirits; and in truth, during

the year which they had already passed in the house, no ghost had ever put in an appearancea fact which

When their director died, it so happened that the boarders took advantage of the occasion to indulge in some

diversion at the expense of the older nuns, who were held in general detestation by the youth of the

establishment on account of the rigour with which they enforced the rules of the order. Their plan was to raise

once more those spirits which had been, as everyone supposed, permanently relegated to outer darkness. So

noises began to be heard on the roof of the house, which resolved themselves into cries and groans; then

growing bolder, the spirits entered the attics and garrets, announcing their presence by clanking of chains; at

last they became so familiar that they invaded the dormitories, where they dragged the sheets off the sisters

Great was the terror in the convent, and great the talk in the town, so that the mother superior called her

wisest, nuns around her and asked them what, in their opinion, would be the best course to take in the delicate

circumstances in which they found themselves. Without a dissentient voice, the conclusion arrived at was,

that the late director should be immediately replaced by a man still holier than he, if such a man could be

found, and whether because he possessed a reputation for sanctity, or for some other reason, their choice fell

on Urbain Grandier. When the offer of the post was brought to him, he answered that he was already

responsible for two important charges, and that he therefore had not enough time to watch over the

snowwhite flock which they wished to entrust to him, as a good shepherd should, and he recommended the

This answer, as may be supposed, wounded the selfesteem of the sisters: they next turned their eyes towards

Mignon, priest and canon of the collegiate church of SainteCroix, and he, although he felt deeply hurt that

they had not thought first of him, accepted the position eagerly; but the recollection that Grandier had been

preferred before himself kept awake in, him one of those bitter hatreds which time, instead of soothing,

intensifies. From the foregoing narrative the reader can see to what this hate led.

As soon as the new director was appointed, the mother superior confided to him the kind of foes which he

would be expected to vanquish. Instead of comforting her by the assurance that no ghosts existing, it could

not be ghosts who ran riot in the house, Mignon saw that by pretending to lay these phantoms he could

acquire the reputation for holiness he so much desired. So he answered that the Holy Scriptures recognised

the existence of ghosts by relating how the witch of Endor had made the shade of Samuel appear to Saul. He

went on to say that the ritual of the Church possessed means of driving away all evil spirits, no matter how

persistent they were, provided that he who undertook the task were pure in thought and deed, and that he

hoped soon, by the help of God, to rid the convent of its nocturnal visitants, whereupon as a preparation for

their expulsion he ordered a three days' fast, to be followed by a general confession.

It does not require any great cleverness to understand how easily Mignon arrived at the truth by questioning

the young penitents as they came before him. The boarders who had played at being ghosts confessed their

folly, saying that they had been helped by a young novice of sixteen years of age, named Marie Aubin. She

acknowledged that this was true; it was she who used to get up in the middle of the night, and open the

dormitory door, which her more timid room mates locked most carefully from within every night, before

going to beda fact which greatly increased their terror when, despite their precautions, the ghosts still got

in. Under pretext of not exposing them to the anger of the superior, whose suspicions would be sure to be

awakened if the apparitions were to disappear immediately after the general confession, Mignon directed

them to renew their nightly frolics from time to time, but at longer and longer intervals. He then sought an

interview with the superior, and assured her that he had found the minds of all those under her charge so

chaste and pure that he felt sure through his earnest prayers he would soon clear the convent of the spirits

Everything happened as the director had foretold, and the reputation for sanctity of the holy man, who by

watching and praying had delivered the worthy Ursulines from their ghostly assailants, increased enormously

Hardly had tranquillity been restored when Mignon, Duthibaut, Menuau, Meunier, and Barot, having lost

their cause before the Archbishop of Bordeaux, and finding themselves threatened by Grandier with a

prosecution for libel and forgery, met together to consult as to the best means of defending themselves before

the unbending severity of this man, who would, they felt, destroy them if they did not destroy him.

The result of this consultation was that very shortly afterwards queer reports began to fly about; it was

whispered that the ghosts whom the pious director had expelled had again invaded the convent, under an

invisible and impalpable form, and that several of the nuns had given, by their words and acts,

When these reports were mentioned to Mignon, he, instead of denying their truth, cast up his eyes to heaven

and said that God was certainly a great and merciful God, but it was also certain that Satan was very clever,

especially when he was barked by that false human science called magic. However, as to the reports, though

they were not entirely without foundation, he would not go so far as to say that any of the sisters were really

The effect of such an answer on minds already prepared to listen to the most impossible things, may easily be

guessed. Mignon let the gossip go its rounds for several months without giving it any fresh food, but at

length, when the time was ripe, he called on the priest of SaintJacques at Chinon, and told him that matters

had now come to such a pass in the Ursuline convent that he felt it impossible to bear up alone under the

responsibility of caring for the salvation of the afflicted nuns, and he begged him to accompany him to the

convent. This priest, whose name was Pierre Barre, was exactly the man whom Mignon needed in such a

crisis. He was of melancholy temperament, and dreamed dreams and saw visions; his one ambition was to

gain a reputation for asceticism and holiness. Desiring to surround his visit with the solemnity befitting such

an important event, he set out for Loudun at the head of all his parishioners, the whole procession going on

foot, in order to arouse interest and curiosity; but this measure was quite needless it took less than that to set

While the faithful filled the churches offering up prayers for the success of the exorcisms, Mignon and Barre

entered upon their task at the convent, where they remained shut up with the nuns for six hours. At the end of

this time Barre appeared and announced to his parishioners that they might go back to Chinon without him,

for he had made up his mind to remain for the present at Loudun, in order to aid the venerable director of the

Ursuline convent in the holy work he had undertaken; he enjoined on them to pray morning and evening, with

all possible fervour, that, in spite of the serious dangers by which it was surrounded, the good cause might

finally triumph. This advice, unaccompanied as it was by any explanation, redoubled the curiosity of the

people, and the belief gained ground that it was not merely one or two nuns who were possessed of devils,

but the whole sisterhood. It was not very long before the name of the magician who had worked this wonder

began to be mentioned quite openly: Satan, it was said, had drawn Urbain Grandier into his power, through

his pride. Urbain had entered into a pact with the Evil Spirit by which he had sold him his soul in return for

being made the most learned man on earth. Now, as Urbain's knowledge was much greater than that of the

inhabitants of Loudun, this story gained general credence in the town, although here and there was to be

found a man sufficiently enlightened to shrug his shoulders at these absurdities, and to laugh at the

For the next ten or twelve days Mignon and Barre spent the greater part of their time at the convent;

sometimes remaining there for six hours at a stretch, sometimes the entire day. At length, on Monday, the

11th of October, 1632, they wrote to the priest of Venier, to Messire Guillaume Cerisay de la Gueriniere,

bailiff of the Loudenois, and to Messire Louis Chauvet, civil lieutenant, begging them to visit the Ursuline

convent, in order to examine two nuns who were possessed by evil spirits, and to verify the strange and

almost incredible manifestations of this possession. Being thus formally appealed to, the two magistrates

could not avoid compliance with the request. It must be confessed that they were not free from curiosity, and

felt far from sorry at being able to get to the bottom of the mystery of which for some time the whole town

was talking. They repaired, therefore, to the convent, intending to make a thorough investigation as to the

reality of the possession and as to the efficacy of the exorcisms employed. Should they judge that the nuns

were really possessed, and that those who tried to deliver them were in earnest, they would authorise the

continuation of the efforts at exorcism; but if they were not satisfied on these two points, they would soon put

an end to the whole thing as a comedy. When they reached the door, Mignon, wearing alb and stole, came to

meet them. He told them that the feelings of the nuns had for more than two weeks been harrowed by the

apparition of spectres and other bloodcurdling visions, that the mother superior and two nuns had evidently

been possessed by evil spirits for over a week; that owing to the efforts of Barre and same Carmelite friars

who were good enough to assist him against their common enemies, the devils had been temporarily driven

out, but on the previous Sunday night, the 10th of October, the mother superior, Jeanne de Belfield, whose

conventual name was Jeanne des Anges, and a lay sister called Jeanne Dumagnoux, had again been entered

into by the same spirits. It had, however, been discovered by means of exorcisms that a new compact, of

which the symbol and token was a bunch of roses, had been concluded, the symbol and token of the first

having been three black thorns. He added that during the time of the first possession the demons had refused

to give their names, but by the power of his exorcisms this reluctance had been overcome, the spirit which

had resumed possession of the mother superior having at length revealed that its name was Ashtaroth, one of

the greatest enemies of God, while the devil which had entered into the lay sister was of a lower order, and

was called Sabulon. Unfortunately, continued Mignon, just now the two afflicted nuns were resting, and he

requested the bailiff and the civil lieutenant to put off their inspection till a little later. The two magistrates

were just about to go away, when a nun appeared, saying that the devils were again doing their worst with the

two into whom they had entered. Consequently, they accompanied Mignon and the priest from Venier to an

upper room, in which were seven narrow beds, of which two only were occupied, one by the mother superior

and the other by the lay sister. The superior, who was the more thoroughly possessed of the two, was

surrounded by the Carmelite monks, the sisters belonging to the convent, Mathurin Rousseau, priest and

No sooner did the two magistrates join the others than the superior was seized with violent convulsions,

writhing and uttering squeals in exact imitation of a sucking pig. The two magistrates looked on in profound

astonishment, which was greatly increased when they saw the patient now bury herself in her bed, now spring

right out of it, the whole performance being accompanied by such diabolical gestures and grimaces that, if

they were not quite convinced that the possession was genuine, they were at least filled with admiration of the

manner in which it was simulated. Mignon next informed the bailiff and the civil lieutenant, that although the

superior had never learned Latin she would reply in that language to all the questions addressed to her, if such

were their desire. The magistrates answered that as they were there in order to examine thoroughly into the

facts of the case, they begged the exorcists to give them every possible proof that the possession was real.

Upon this, Mignon approached the mother superior, and, having ordered everyone to be silent, placed two of

his fingers in her mouth, and, having gone through the form of exorcism prescribed by the ritual, he asked the

D. Why have you entered into the body of this young girl? R. Causa animositatis. Out of enmity. D. Per quod

pactum ? By what pact? R. Per flores. By flowers. D. Quales? What flowers? R. Rosas. Roses. D. Quis

At this question the magistrates remarked that the superior hesitated to reply; twice she opened her mouth in

Here there was again the same hesitation, but as if impelled by the will of the exorcist she answered

R. Grandier. Grandier. D. Dic qualitatem? What is his profession? R. Sacerdos. A priest. D. Cujus ecclesiae?

Of what church? R. Sancti Petri. SaintPierre. D. Quae persona attulit flores? Who brought the flowers? R.

As the patient pronounced the last word she recovered her senses, and having repeated a prayer, attempted to

swallow a morsel of bread which was offered her; she was, however, obliged to spit it out, saying it was so

Something more liquid was then brought, but even of that she could swallow very little, as she fell into

Upon this the two officials, seeing there was nothing more to be got out of the superior, withdrew to one of

the window recesses and began to converse in a low tone; whereupon Mignon, who feared that they had not

been sufficiently impressed, followed them, and drew their attention to the fact that there was much in what

they had just seen to recall the case of Gaufredi, who had been put to death a few years before in consequence

of a decree of the Parliament of Aix, in Provence. This illjudged remark of Mignon showed so clearly what

his aim was that the magistrates made no reply. The civil lieutenant remarked that he had been surprised that

Mignon had not made any attempt to find out the cause of the enmity of which the superior had spoken, and

which it was so important to find out; but Mignon excused himself by saying that he had no right to put

questions merely to gratify curiosity. The civil lieutenant was about to insist on the matter being investigated,

when the lay sister in her turn went into a fit, thus extricating Mignon from his embarrassment. The

magistrates approached the lay sister's bed at once, and directed Mignon to put the same questions to her as to

the superior: he did so, but all in vain; all she would reply was, "To the other! To the other!"

Mignon explained this refusal to answer by saying that the evil spirit which was in her was of an inferior

order, and referred all questioners to Ashtaroth, who was his superior. As this was the only explanation, good

or bad, offered them by Mignon, the magistrates went away, and drew up a report of all they had seen and

But in the town very few people showed the same discretion and reticence as the magistrates. The bigoted

believed, the hypocrites pretended to believe; and the worldlyminded, who were numerous, discussed the

doctrine of possession in all its phases, and made no secret of their own entire incredulity. They wondered,

and not without reason it must be confessed, what had induced the devils to go out of the nuns' bodies for two

days only, and then come back and resume possession, to the confusion of the exorcists; further, they wanted

to know why the mother superior's devil spoke Latin, while the lay sister's was ignorant of that tongue; for a

mere difference of rank in the hierarchy of hell did not seem a sufficient explanation of such a difference in

education; Mignon's refusal to go on with his interrogations as to the cause of the enmity made them, they

said, suspect that, knowing he had reached the end of Ashtaroth's classical knowledge, he felt it useless to try

to continue the dialogue in the Ciceronian idiom. Moreover, it was well known that only a few days before all

Urbain's worst enemies had met in conclave in the village of Puidardane; and besides, how stupidly Mignon

had shown his hand by mentioning Gaufredi, the priest who had been executed at Aix: lastly, why had not a

desire for impartiality been shown by calling in other than Carmelite monks to be present at the exorcism,

that order having a private quarrel with Grandier? It must be admitted that this way of looking at the case was

On the following day, October 12th, the bailiff and the civil lieutenant, having heard that exorcisms had been

again tried without their having been informed beforehand, requested a certain Canon Rousseau to

accompany them, and set out with him and their clerk for the convent. On arriving, they asked for Mignon,

and on his appearance they told him that this matter of exorcism was of such importance that no further steps

were to be taken in it without the authorities being present, and that in future they were to be given timely

notice of every attempt to get rid of the evil spirits. They added that this was all the more necessary as

Mignon's position as director of the sisterhood and his wellknown hate for Grandier would draw suspicions

on him unworthy of his cloth, suspicions which he ought to be the first to wish to see dissipated, and that

quickly; and that, therefore, the work which he had so piously begun would be completed by exorcists

Mignon replied that, though he had not the slightest objection to the magistrates being present at all the

exorcisms, yet he could not promise that the spirits would reply to anyone except himself and Barre. Just at

that moment Barre came on the scene, paler and more gloomy than ever, and speaking with the air of a man

whose word no one could help believing, he announced that before their arrival some most extraordinary

things had taken place. The magistrates asked what things, and Barre replied that he had learned from the

mother superior that she was possessed, not by one, but by seven devils, of whom Ashtaroth was the chief;

that Grandier had entrusted his pact with the devil, under the symbol of a bunch of roses, to a certain Jean

Pivart, to give to a girl who had introduced it into the convent garden by throwing it over the wall; that this

took place in the night between Saturday and Sunday "hora secunda nocturna" (two hours after midnight);

that those were the very words the superior had used, but that while she readily named Pivart, she absolutely

refused to give the name of the girl; that on asking what Pivart was; she had replied, "Pauper magus" (a poor

magician); that he then had pressed her as to the word magus, and that she had replied "Magicianus et civis"

(magician and citizen); and that just as she said those words the magistrates had arrived, and he had asked no

The two officials listened to this information with the seriousness befitting men entrusted with high judicial

functions, and announced to the two priests that they proposed to visit the possessed women and witness for

themselves the miracles that were taking place. The clerics offered no opposition, but said they feared that the

devils were fatigued and would refuse to reply; and, in fact, when the officials reached the sickroom the two

patients appeared to have regained some degree of calm. Mignon took advantage of this quiet moment to say

mass, to which the two magistrates listened devoutly and tranquilly, and while the sacrifice was being offered

the demons did not dare to move. It was expected that they would offer some opposition at the elevation of

the Host, but everything passed off without disturbance, only the lay sister's hands and feet twitched a great

deal; and this was the only fact which the magistrates thought worthy of mention in their report for that

morning. Barre assured them, however, that if they would return about three o'clock the devils would

probably have recovered sufficiently from their fatigue to give a second performance.

As the two gentlemen had determined to see the affair to the end, they returned to the convent at the hour

named, accompanied by Messire Irenee de SainteMarthe, sieur Deshurneaux; and found the room in which

the possessed were lying full of curious spectators; for the exorcists had been true prophetsthe devils were

The superior, as always, was the more tormented of the two, as was only to be expected, she having seven

devils in her all at once; she was terribly convulsed, and was writhing and foaming at the mouth as if she

were mad. No one could long continue in such a condition without serious injury to health; Barre therefore

asked the devilin chief how soon he would come out. "Cras mane" (Tomorrow morning), he replied. The

exorcist then tried to hurry him, asking him why he would not come out at once; whereupon the superior

murmured the word "Pactum" (A pact); and then "Sacerdos" (A priest), and finally "Finis," or "Finit," for

even those nearest could not catch the word distinctly, as the devil, afraid doubtless of perpetrating a

barbarism, spoke through the nun's closely clenched teeth. This being all decidedly unsatisfying, the

magistrates insisted that the examination should continue, but the devils had again exhausted themselves, and

refused to utter another word. The priest even tried touching the superior's head with the pyx, while prayers

and litanies were recited, but it was all in vain, except that some of the spectators thought that the contortions

of the patient became more violent when the intercessions of certain saints were invoked, as for instance

Saints Augustine Jerome, Antony, and Mary Magdalene. Barre next directed the mother superior to dedicate

her heart and soul to God, which she did without difficulty; but when he commanded her to dedicate her body

also, the chief devil indicated by fresh convulsions that he was not going to allow himself to be deprived of a

domicile without resistance, and made those who had heard him say that he would leave the next morning

feel that he had only said so under compulsion; and their curiosity as to the result became heightened. At

length, however, despite the obstinate resistance of the demon, the superior succeeded in dedicating her body

also to God, and thus victorious her features resumed their usual expression, and smiling as if nothing had

happened, she turned to Barre and said that there was no vestige of Satan left in her. The civil lieutenant then

asked her if she remembered the questions she had been asked and the answers she had given, but she replied

that she remembered nothing; but afterwards, having taken some refreshment, she said to those around her

that she recollected perfectly how the first possession, over which Mignon had triumphed, had taken place:

one evening about ten o'clock, while several nuns were still in her room, although she was already in bed, it

seemed to her that someone took her hand and laid something in it, closing her fingers; at that instant she felt

a sharp pain as if she had been pricked by three pins, and hearing her scream, the nuns came to her bedside to

ask what ailed her. She held out her hand, and they found three black thorns sticking in it, each having made

a tiny wound. Just as she had told this tale, the lay sister, as if to prevent all commentary, was seized with

convulsions, and Barre recommenced his prayers and exorcisms, but was soon interrupted by shrieks; for one

of the persons present had seen a black cat come down the chimney and disappear. Instantly everyone

concluded it must be the devil, and began to seek it out. It was not without great difficulty that it was caught;

for, terrified at the sight of so many people and at the noise, the poor animal had sought refuge under a

canopy; but at last it was secured and carried to the superior's bedside, where Barre began his exorcisms once

more, covering the cat with signs of the cross, and adjuring the devil to take his true shape. Suddenly the

'touriere', (the woman who received the tradespeople,) came forward, declaring the supposed devil to be only

her cat, and she immediately took possession of it, lest some harm should happen to it.

The gathering had been just about to separate, but Barry fearing that the incident of the cat might throw a

ridiculous light upon the evil spirits, resolved to awake once more a salutary terror by announcing that he was

going to burn the flowers through which the second spell had been made to work. Producing a bunch of white

roses, already faded, he ordered a lighted brazier to be brought. He then threw the flowers on the glowing

charcoal, and to the general astonishment they were consumed without any visible effect: the heavens still

smiled, no peal of thunder was heard, and no unpleasant odour diffused itself through the room. Barre feeling

that the baldness of this act of destruction had had a bad effect, predicted that the morrow would bring forth

wondrous things; that the chief devil would speak more distinctly than hitherto; that he would leave the body

of the superior, giving such clear signs of his passage that no one would dare to doubt any longer that it was a

case of genuine possession. Thereupon the criminal lieutenant, Henri Herve, who had been present during the

exorcism, said they must seize upon the moment of his exit to ask about Pivart, who was unknown at Loudun,

although everyone who lived there knew everybody else. Barre replied in Latin, "Et hoc dicet epuellam

nominabit" (He will not only tell about him, but he will also name the young girl). The young girl whom the

devil was to name was, it may be recollected, she who had introduced the flowers into the convent, and

whose name the demon until now had absolutely refused to give. On the strength of these promises everyone

That evening Grandier asked the bailiff for an audience. At first he had made fun of the exorcisms, for the

story had been so badly concocted, and the accusations were so glaringly improbable, that he had not felt the

least anxiety. But as the case went on it assumed such an important aspect, and the hatred displayed by his

enemies was so intense, that the fate of the priest Gaufredi, referred to by Mignon, occurred to Urbain's mind,

and in order to be beforehand with his enemies he determined to lodge a complaint against them. This

complaint was founded on the fact that Mignon had performed the rite of exorcism in the presence of the civil

lieutenant, the bailiff, and many other persons, and had caused the nuns who were said to be possessed, in the

hearing of all these people, to name him, Urbain, as the author of their possession. This being a falsehood and

an attack upon his honour, he begged the bailiff, in whose hands the conduct of the affair had been specially

placed, to order the nuns to be sequestered, apart from the rest of the sisterhood and from each other, and then

to have each separately examined. Should there appear to be any evidence of possession, he hoped that the

bailiff would be pleased to appoint clerics of wellknown rank and upright character to perform whatever

exorcisms were needful; such men having no bias against him would be more impartial than Mignon and his

adherents. He also called upon the bailiff to have an exact report drawn up of everything that took place at the

exorcisms, in order that, if necessary, he as petitioner might be able to lay it before anyone to whose

judgment he might appeal. The bailiff gave Grandier a statement of the conclusions at which he had arrived,

and told him that the exorcisms had been performed that day by Barre, armed with the authority of the Bishop

of Poitiers himself. Being, as we have seen, a man of common sense and entirely unprejudiced in the matter,

the bailiff advised Grandier to lay his complaint before his bishop; but unfortunately he was under the

authority of the Bishop of Poitiers, who was so prejudiced against him that he had done everything in his

power to induce the Archbishop of Bordeaux to refuse to ratify the decision in favour of Grandier,

pronounced by the presidial court. Urbain could not hide from the magistrate that he had nothing to hope for

from this quarter, and it was decided that he should wait and see what the morrow would bring forth, before

The impatiently expected day dawned at last, and at eight o'clock in the morning the bailiff, the king's

attorney, the civil lieutenant, the criminal lieutenant, and the provost's lieutenant, with their respective clerks,

were already at the convent. They found the outer gate open, but the inner door shut. In a few moments

Mignon came to them and brought them into a waitingroom. There he told them that the nuns were

preparing for communion, and that he would be very much obliged to them if they would withdraw and wait

in a house across the street, just opposite the convent, and that he would send them word when they could

come back. The magistrates, having first informed Mignon of Urbain's petition, retired as requested.

An hour passed, and as Mignon did not summon them, in spite of his promise, they all went together to the

convent chapel, where they were told the exorcisms were already over. The nuns had quitted the choir, and

Mignon and Barre came to the grating and told them that they had just completed the rite, and that, thanks to

their conjurations, the two afflicted ones were now quite free from evil spirits. They went on to say that they

had been working together at the exorcism from seven o'clock in the morning, and that great wonders, of

which they had drawn up an account, had come to pass; but they had considered it would not be proper to

allow any one else to be present during the ceremony besides the exorcists and the possessed. The bailiff

pointed out that their manner of proceedings was not only illegal, but that it laid them under suspicion of

fraud and collusion, in the eyes of the impartial: Moreover, as the superior had accused Grandier publicly, she

was bound to renew and prove her accusation also publicly, and not in secret; furthermore, it was a great

piece of insolence on the part of the exorcists to invite people of their standing and character to come to the

convent, and having kept them waiting an hour, to tell them that they considered them unworthy to be

admitted to the ceremony which they. had been requested to attend; and he wound up by saying that he would

draw up a report, as he had already done on each of the preceding days, setting forth the extraordinary

discrepancy between their promises and their performance. Mignon replied that he and Barre had had only

one thing in view, viz. the expulsion of the, demons, and that in that they had succeeded, and that their

success would be of great benefit to the holy Catholic faith, for they had got the demons so thoroughly into

their power that they had been able to command them to produce within a week miraculous proofs of the

spells cast on the nuns by Urbain Grandier and their wonderful deliverance therefrom; so that in future no one

would be able to doubt as to the reality of the possession. Thereupon the magistrates drew up a report of all

that had happened, and of what Barre and Mignon had said. This was signed by all the officials present,

except the criminal lieutenant, who declared that, having perfect confidence in the statements of the exorcists,

he was anxious to do nothing to increase the doubting spirit which was unhappily so prevalent among the

The same day the bailiff secretly warned Urbain of the refusal of the criminal lieutenant to join with the

others in signing the report, and almost at the same moment he learned that the cause of his adversaries was

strengthened by the adhesion of a certain Messire Rene Memin, seigneur de Silly, and prefect of the town.

This gentleman was held in great esteem not only on account of his wealth and the many offices which he

filled, but above all on account of his powerful friends, among whom was the cardinalduke himself, to

whom he had formerly been of use when the cardinal was only a prior. The character of the conspiracy had

now become so alarming that Grandier felt it was time to oppose it with all his strength. Recalling his

conversation with the bailiff the preceding day, during which he had advised him to lay his complaint before

the Bishop of Poitiers, he set out, accompanied by a priest of Loudun, named Jean Buron, for the prelate's

country house at Dissay. The bishop, anticipating his visit, had already given his orders, and Grandier was

met by Dupuis, the intendant of the palace, who, in reply to Grandier's request to see the bishop, told him that

his lordship was ill. Urbain next addressed himself to the bishop's chaplain, and begged him to inform the

prelate that his object in coming was to lay before him the official reports which the magistrates had drawn

up of the events which had taken place at the Ursuline convent, and to lodge a complaint as to the slanders

and accusations of which he was the victim. Grandier spoke so urgently that the chaplain could not refuse to

carry his message; he returned, however, in a few moments, and told Grandier, in the presence of Dupuis,

Buron, and a certain sieur Labrasse, that the bishop advised him to take his case to the royal judges, and that

he earnestly hoped he would obtain justice from them. Grandier perceived that the bishop had been warned

against him, and felt that he was becoming more and more entangled in the net of conspiracy around him; but

he was not a man to flinch before any danger. He therefore returned immediately to Loudun, and went once

more to the bailiff, to whom he related all that had happened at Dissay; he then, a second time, made a formal

complaint as to the slanders circulated with regard to him, and begged the magistrates to have recourse to the

king's courts in the business. He also said that he desired to be placed under the protection of the king and his

justice, as the accusations made against him were aimed at his honour and his life. The bailiff hastened to

make out a certificate of Urbain's protest, which forbade at the same time the repetition of the slanders or the

Thanks to this document, a change of parts took place: Mignon, the accuser, became the accused. Feeling that

he had powerful support behind him, he had the audacity to appear before the bailiff the same day. He said

that he did not acknowledge his jurisdiction, as in what concerned Grandier and himself, they being both

priests, they could only be judged by their bishop; he nevertheless protested against the complaint lodged by

Grandier, which characterised him as a slanderer, and declared that he was ready to give himself up as a

prisoner, in order to show everyone that he did not fear the result of any inquiry. Furthermore, he had taken

an oath on the sacred elements the day before, in the presence of his parishioners who had come to mass, that

in all he had hitherto done he had been moved, not by hatred of Grandier, but by love of the truth, and by his

desire for the triumph of the Catholic faith; and he insisted that the bailiff should give him a certificate of his

Since October 13th, the day on which the demons had been expelled, life at the convent seemed to have

returned to its usual quiet; but Grandier did not let himself be lulled to sleep by the calm: he knew those with

whom he was contending too well to imagine for an instant that he would hear no more of them; and when

the bailiff expressed pleasure at this interval of repose, Grandier said that it would not last long, as the nuns

were only conning new parts, in order to carry on the drama in a more effective manner than ever. And in

fact, on November 22nd, Rene Mannouri, surgeon to the convent, was sent to one of his colleagues, named

Gaspard Joubert, to beg him to come, bringing some of the physicians of the town with him, to visit the two

sisters, who were again tormented by evil spirits. Mannouri, however, had gone to the wrong man, for Joubert

had a frank and loyal character, and hated everything that was underhand. Being determined to take no part in

the business, except in a public and judicial manner, he applied at once to the bailiff to know if it was by his

orders that he was called in. The bailiff said it was not, and summoned Mannouri before him to ask him by

whose authority he had sent for Joubert. Mannouri declared that the 'touriere' had run in a fright to his house,

saying that the nuns had never been worse possessed than now, and that the director, Mignon, begged him to

The bailiff, seeing that fresh plots against Grandier were being formed, sent for him and warned him that

Barre had come over from Chinon the day before, and had resumed his exorcisms at the convent, adding that

it was currently reported in the town that the mother superior and Sister Claire were again tormented by

devils. The news neither astonished nor discouraged Grandier, who replied, with his usual smile of disdain,

that it was evident his enemies were hatching new plots against him, and that as he had instituted proceedings

against them for the former ones, he would take the same course with regard to these. At the same time,

knowing how impartial the bailiff was, he begged him to accompany the doctors and officials to the convent,

and to be present at the exorcisms, and should any sign of real possession manifest itself, to sequester the

afflicted nuns at once, and cause them to be examined by other persons than Mignon and Barre, whom he had

The bailiff wrote to the king's attorney, who, notwithstanding his bias against Grandier, was forced to see that

the conclusions arrived at were correct, and having certified this in writing, he at once sent his clerk to the

convent to inquire if the superior were still possessed. In case of an affirmative reply being given, the clerk

had instructions to warn Mignon and Barre that they were not to undertake exorcisms unless in presence of

the bailiff and of such officials and doctors as he might choose to bring with him, and that they would

disobey at their peril; he was also to tell them that Grandier's demands to have the nuns sequestered and other

Mignon and Barre listened while the clerk read his instructions, and then said they refused to recognise the

jurisdiction of the bailiff in this case; that they had been summoned by the mother superior and Sister Claire

when their strange illness returned, an illness which they were convinced was nothing else than possession by

evil spirits; that they had hitherto carried out their exorcisms under the authority of a commission given them

by the Bishop of Poitiers; and as the time for which they had permission had not yet expired; they would

continue to exorcise as often as might be necessary. They had, however, given notice to the worthy prelate of

what was going on, in order that he might either come himself or send other exorcists as best suited him, so

that a valid opinion as to the reality, of the possession might be procured, for up to the present the worldly

and unbelieving had taken upon themselves to declare in an offhand manner that the whole affair was a

mixture of fraud and delusion, in contempt of the glory of God and the Catholic religion. As to the rest of the

message, they would not, in any way prevent the bailiff and the other officials, with as many medical men as

they chose to bring, from seeing the nuns, at least until they heard from the bishop, from whom they expected

a letter next day. But it was for the nuns themselves to say whether it was convenient for them to receive

visitors; as far as concerned themselves, they desired to renew their protest, and declared they could not

accept the bailiff as their judge, and did not think that it could be legal for them to refuse to obey a command

from their ecclesiastical superiors, whether with relation to exorcism or any other thing of which the

ecclesiastical courts properly took cognisance. The clerk brought this answer to the bailiff, and he, thinking it

was better to wait for the arrival of the bishop or of fresh orders from him, put off his visit to the convent

until the next day. But the next day came without anything being heard of the prelate himself or of a

Early in the morning the bailiff went to the convent, but was not admitted; he then waited patiently until

noon, and seeing that no news had arrived from Dissay, and that the convent gates were still closed against

him, he granted a second petition of Grandier's, to the effect that Byre and Mignon should be prohibited from

questioning the superior and the other nuns in a manner tending to blacken the character of the petitioner or

any other person. Notice of this prohibition was served the same day on Barre and on one nun chosen to

represent the community. Barre did not pay the slightest attention to this notice, but kept on asserting that the

bailiff had no right to prevent his obeying the commands of his bishop, and declaring that henceforward he

would perform all exorcisms solely under ecclesiastical sanction, without any reference to lay persons, whose

unbelief and impatience impaired the solemnity with which such rites should be conducted.

The best part of the day having gone over without any sign of either bishop or messenger, Grandier presented

a new petition to the bailiff. The bailiff at once summoned all the officers of the bailiwick and the attorneys

of the king, in order to lay it before them; but the king's attorneys refused to consider the matter, declaring

upon their honour that although they did not accuse Grandier of being the cause, yet they believed that the

nuns were veritably possessed, being convinced by the testimony of the devout ecclesiastics in whose

presence the evil spirits had come out. This was only the ostensible reason for their refusal, the real one being

that the advocate was a relation of Mignon's, and the attorney a son inlaw of Trinquant's, to whose office

he had succeeded. Thus Grandier, against whom were all the ecclesiastical judges, began to feel as if he were

condemned beforehand by the judges of the royal courts, for he knew how very short was the interval

between the recognition of the possession as a fact and the recognition of himself as its author.

Nevertheless, in spite of the formal declarations of the king's advocate and attorney, the bailiff ordered the

superior and the lay sister to be removed to houses in town, each to be accompanied by a nun as companion.

During their absence from the convent they were to be looked after by exorcists, by women of high character

and position, as well as by physicians and attendants, all of whom he himself would appoint, all others being

The clerk was again sent to the convent with a copy of this decision, but the superior having listened to the

reading of the document, answered that in her own name and that of the sisterhood she refused to recognise

the jurisdiction of the bailiff; that she had already received directions from the Bishop of Poitiers, dated 18th

November, explaining the measures which were to be taken in the matter, and she would gladly send a copy

of these directions to the bailiff, to prevent his pleading ignorance of them; furthermore, she demurred to the

order for her removal, having vowed to live always secluded in a convent, and that no one could dispense her

from this vow but the bishop. This protest having been made in the presence of Madame de Charnisay, aunt

of two of the nuns, and Surgeon Mannouri, who was related to another, they both united in drawing up a

protest against violence, in case the bailiff should insist on having his orders carried out, declaring that,

should he make the attempt, they would resist him, as if he were a mere private individual. This document

being duly signed and witnessed was immediately sent to the bailiff by the hand of his own clerk, whereupon

the bailiff ordered that preparations should be made with regard to the sequestration, and announced that the

next day, the 24th November, he would repair to the convent and be present at the exorcisms.

The next day accordingly, at the appointed hour, the bailiff summoned Daniel Roger, Vincent de Faux,

Gaspard Joubert, and Matthieu Fanson, all four physicians, to his presence, and acquainting them with his

reasons for having called them, asked them to accompany him to the convent to examine, with the most

scrupulous impartiality, two nuns whom he would point out, in order to discover if their illness were feigned,

or arose from natural or supernatural causes. Having thus instructed them as to his wishes, they all set out for

They were shown into the chapel and placed close to the altar, being separated by a grating from the choir, in

which the nuns who sang usually sat. In a few moments the superior was carried in on a small bed, which was

laid down before the grating. Barre then said mass, during which the superior went into violent convulsions.

She threw her arms about, her fingers were clenched, her cheeks enormously inflated, and her eyes turned up

The mass finished, Barre approached her to administer the holy communion and to commence the exorcism.

The superior hesitated, as if she found great difficulty in making this act of love, but at length she said

"Jesus Christus" (Jesus Christ), answered the nun, quite unconscious that the verb adorn governs accusative.

This mistake, which no sixthform boy would make, gave rise to bursts of laughter in the church; and Daniel

Barre perceiving the bad impression that the superior's nominative had made, hastened to ask her

His hope was that she would again reply " Jesus Christus," but he was disappointed.

Renewed shouts of laughter greeted this infraction of one of the most elementary rules of syntax, and several

Barre pretended not to hear, and next asked what was the name of the demon who had taken possession of

her. The poor superior, who was greatly confused by the unexpected effect of her last two answers, could not

speak for a long time; but at length with great trouble she brought out the name Asmodee, without daring to

latinise it. The exorcist then inquired how many devils the superior had in her body, and to this question she

The bailiff upon this requested Barre to ask the chief devil how many evil spirits he had with him. But the

This answer raised Asmodee somewhat in the opinion of those present; but when the bailiff adjured the

superior to repeat in Greek what she had just said in Latin she made no reply, and on the adjuration being

The examination of the superior being thus cut short, a little nun who appeared for the first time in public was

brought forward. She began by twice pronouncing the name of Grandier with a loud laugh; then turning to the

As it was easy to see that nothing of importance was to be expected from this new patient, she was soon

suppressed, and her place taken by the lay sister Claire who had already made her debut in the mother

Hardly had she entered the choir than she uttered a groan, but as soon as they placed her on the little bed on

which the other nuns had lain, she gave way to uncontrollable laughter, and cried out between the paroxysms

Barre at once declared that these wild and whirling words were a proof of possession, and approached to

exorcise the demon; but Sister Claire resisted, and pretending to spit in the face of the exorcist, put out her

tongue at him, making indecent gestures, using a word in harmony with her actions. This word being in the

The exorcist then conjured her to give the name of the demon who was in her, and she replied

But Barre by repeating his question gave her to understand that she had made a mistake, whereupon she

Nothing in the world could induce her to reveal the number of evil spirits by whom Elimi was accompanied,

so that Barre, seeing that it was useless to press her on this point, passed on to the next question.

This horror of the ablative, when the ablative was absolutely necessary, aroused once more the hilarity of the

audience, and proved that Sister Claire's devil was just as poor a Latin scholar as the superior's, and Barre,

fearing some new linguistic eccentricity on the part of the evil spirit, adjourned the meeting to another day.

The paucity of learning shown in the answers of the nuns being sufficient to convince any fairminded person

that the whole affair was a ridiculous comedy, the bailiff felt encouraged to persevere until he had unravelled

the whole plot. Consequently, at three o'clock in the afternoon, he returned to the convent, accompanied by

his clerk, by several magistrates, and by a considerable number of the best known people of Loudun, and

asked to see the superior. Being admitted, he announced to Barre that he had come to insist on the superior

being separated from Sister Claire, so that each could be exorcised apart. Barre dared not refuse before such a

great number of witnesses, therefore the superior was isolated and the exorcisms begun all over again.

Instantly the convulsions returned, just as in the morning, only that now she twisted her feet into the form of

Having adjured her several times, the exorcist succeeded in making her repeat some prayers, and then

sounded her as to the name and number of the demons in possession, whereupon she said three times that

there was one called Achaos. The bailiff then directed Barre to ask if she were possessed 'ex pacto magi, aut

ex Aura voluntate Dei' (by a pact with a sorcerer or by the pure will of God), to which the superior answered

Upon this, Barre dreading more questions from the bystanders, hastily resumed his own catechism by asking

"Quare ingressus es in corpus hujus puellae" (Why did you enter the body of this maiden?), said Barre.

At this point the bailiff, seeing no reason why the dialogue between Barre and the superior should ever come

to an end, interposed and demanded that questions suggested by him and the other officials present should be

put to the superior, promising that if she answered three of four such questions correctly, he, and those with

him, would believe in the reality of the possession, and would certify to that effect. Barre accepted the

challenge, but unluckily just at that moment the superior regained consciousness, and as it was already late,

The next day, November 25th, the bailiff and the majority of the officers of the two jurisdictions came to the

convent once more, and were all conducted to the choir. In a few moments the curtains behind the grating

were drawn back, and the superior, lying on her bed, came to view. Barre began, as usual, by the celebration

of mass, during which the superior was seized with convulsions, and exclaimed two or three times,

"Grandier! Grandier! false priest!" When the mass was over, the celebrant went behind the grating, carrying

the pyx; then, placing it on his head and holding it there, he protested that in all he was doing he was actuated

by the purest motives and the highest integrity; that he had no desire to harm anyone on earth; and he adjured

God to strike him dead if he had been guilty of any bad action or collusion, or had instigated the nuns to any

The prior of the Carmelites next advanced and made the same declaration, taking the oath in the same

manner, holding the pyx over his head; and further calling down on himself and his brethren the curse of

Korah, Dathan, and Abiram if they had sinned during this inquiry. These protestations did not, however,

produce the salutary effect intended, some of those present saying aloud that such oaths smacked of sacrilege.

Barre hearing the murmurs, hastened to begin the exorcisms, first advancing to the superior to offer her the

holy sacrament: but as soon as she caught sight of him she became terribly convulsed, and attempted to drag

the pyx from his hands. Barre, however, by pronouncing the sacred words, overcame the repulsion of the

superior, and succeeded in placing the wafer in her mouth; she, however, pushed it out again with her tongue,

as if it made her sick; Barge caught it in his fingers and gave it to her again, at the same time forbidding the

demon to make her vomit, and this time she succeeded in partly swallowing the sacred morsel, but

complained that it stuck in her throat. At last, in order to get it down, Barge three times gave her water to

drink; and then, as always during his exorcisms, he began by interrogating the demon.

"Per quod pactum ingressus es in corpus hujus puellae?" (By what pact didst thou enter the body of this

One of those who had accompanied the bailiff was a Scotchman called Stracan, the head of the Reformed

College of Loudun. Hearing this answer, he called on the demon to translate aqua into Gaelic, saying if he

gave this proof of having those linguistic attainments which all bad spirits possess, he and those with him

would be convinced that the possession was genuine and no deception. Barre, without being in the least taken

aback, replied that he would make the demon say it if God permitted, and ordered the spirit to answer in

Gaelic. But though he repeated his command twice, it was not obeyed; on the third repetition the superior

This time the poor devil went astray in his conjugation, and confusing the first with the third person, said,

"God, I do not wish," which in the context had no meaning. "God does not wish," being the appointed

The Scotchman laughed heartily at this nonsense, and proposed to Barre to let his devil enter into competition

with the boys of his seventh form; but Barre, instead of frankly accepting the challenge in the devil's name,

hemmed and hawed, and opined that the devil was justified in not satisfying idle curiosity.

"But, sir, you must be aware," said the civil lieutenant, "and if you are not, the manual you hold in your hand

will teach you, that the gift of tongues is one of the unfailing symptoms of true possession, and the power to

"Sir," returned Barre, "the devil knows the language very well, but, does not wish to speak it; he also knows

all your sins, in proof of which, if you so desire, I shall order him to give the list."

"I shall be delighted to hear it," said the civil lieutenant; "be so good as to try the experiment."

Barre was about to approach the superior, when he was held back by the bailiff, who remonstrated with him

on the impropriety of his conduct, whereupon Barre assured the magistrate that he had never really intended

However, in spite of all Barre's attempts to distract the attention of the bystanders from the subject, they still

persisted in desiring to discover the extent of the devil's knowledge of foreign languages, and at their

suggestion the bailiff proposed to Barre to try him in Hebrew instead of Gaelic. Hebrew being, according to

Scripture, the most ancient language of all, ought to be familiar to the demon, unless indeed he had forgotten

it. This idea met with such general applause that Barre was forced to command the possessed nun to say aqua

in Hebrew. The poor woman, who found it difficult enough to repeat correctly the few Latin words she had

These words being heard and repeated by those near her produced such an unfavourable impression that one

of the Carmelite monks tried to explain them away by declaring that the superior had not said "Je renie," but

"Zaquay," a Hebrew word corresponding to the two Latin words, "Effudi aquam" (I threw water about). But

the words "Je renie" had been heard so distinctly that the monk's assertion was greeted with jeers, and the

subprior reprimanded him publicly as a liar. Upon this, the superior had a fresh attack of convulsions, and as

all present knew that these attacks usually indicated that the performance was about to end, they withdrew,

making very merry over a devil who knew neither Hebrew nor Gaelic, and whose smattering of Latin was so

However, as the bailiff and civil lieutenant were determined to clear up every doubt so far as they still felt

any, they went once again to the convent at three o'clock the same afternoon. Barre came out to meet them,

and took them for a stroll in the convent grounds. During their walk he said to the civil lieutenant that he felt

very much surprised that he, who had on a former occasion, by order of the Bishop of Poitiers, laid

information against Grandier should be now on his side. The civil lieutenant replied that he would be ready to

inform against him again if there were any justification, but at present his object was to arrive at the truth, and

in this he felt sure he should be successful. Such an answer was very unsatisfactory to Barre; so, drawing the

bailiff aside, he remarked to him that a man among whose ancestors were many persons of condition, several

of whom had held positions of much dignity in the Church, and who himself held such an important judicial

position, ought to show less incredulity in regard to the possibility of a devil entering into a human body,

since if it were proved it would redound to the glory of God and the good of the Church and of religion. The

bailiff received this remonstrance with marked coldness, and replied that he hoped always to take justice for

his guide, as his duty commanded. Upon this, Barre pursued the subject no farther, but led the way to the

Just as they entered the room, where a large number of people were already gathered, the superior, catching

sight of the pyx which Barre had brought with him, fell once more into convulsions. Barre went towards her,

and having asked the demon as usual by what pact he had entered the maiden's body, and received the

At these words the bailiff interrupted the exorcist and ordered him to make the demon say in Greek the three

words, 'finis, pacti, impuritas'. But the superior, who had once already got out of her difficulties by an evasive

answer, had again recourse to the same convenient phrase, "Nimia curiositas," with which Barre agreed,

saying that they were indeed too much given to curiosity. So the bailiff had to desist from his attempt to make

the demon speak Greek, as he had before been obliged to give up trying to make him speak Hebrew and

The enriching of the Latin language by this new and unknown word produced a great effect on the audience;

however, Barre did not pause long enough to allow it to be received with all the consideration it deserved, but

Here Barre stopped, in order to confirm the testimony of the devil, assuring his hearers that the Sunday after

the superior's deliverance from the second possession he along with Mignon and one of the sisters was sitting

with her at supper, it being about seven o'clock in the evening, when she showed them drops of water on her

arm, and no one could tell where they came from. He had instantly washed her arm in holy water and

repeated some prayers, and while he was saying them the breviary of the superior was twice dragged from her

hands and thrown at his feet, and when he stooped to pick it up for the second time he got a box on the ear

without being able to see the hand that administered it. Then Mignon came up and confirmed what Barre had

said in a long discourse, which he wound up by calling down upon his head the most terrible penalties if

every word he said were not the exact truth. He then dismissed the assembly, promising to drive out the evil

spirit the next day, and exhorting those present to prepare themselves, by penitence and receiving the holy

The last two exorcisms had been so much talked about in the town, that Grandier, although he had not been

present, knew everything that had happened, down to the smallest detail, so he once more laid a complaint

before the bailiff, in which he represented that the nuns maliciously continued to name him during the

exorcisms as the author of their pretended possession, being evidently influenced thereto by his enemies,

whereas in fact not only had he had no communication with them, but had never set eyes on them; that in

order to prove that they acted under influence it was absolutely necessary that they should be sequestered, it

being most unjust that Mignon and Barre, his mortal enemies, should have constant access to them and be

able to stay with them night and day, their doing so making the collusion evident and undeniable; that the

honour of God was involved, and also that of the petitioner, who had some right to be respected, seeing that

Taking all this into consideration, he consequently prayed the bailiff to be pleased to order that the nuns

buffering from the so called possession should at once be separated from each other and from their present

associates, and placed under the control of clerics assisted by physicians in whose impartiality the petitioner

could have confidence; and he further prayed that all this should be performed in spite of any opposition or

appeal whatsoever (but without prejudice to the right of appeal), because of the importance of the matter. And

in case the bailiff were not pleased to order the sequestration, the petitioner would enter a protest and

The bailiff wrote at the bottom of the petition that it would be at once complied with.

After Urbain Grandier had departed, the physicians who had been present at the exorcisms presented

themselves before the bailiff, bringing their report with them. In this report they said that they had recognised

convulsive movements of the mother superior's body, but that one visit was not sufficient to enable them to

make a thorough diagnosis, as the movements above mentioned might arise as well from a natural as from

supernatural causes; they therefore desired to be afforded opportunity for a thorough examination before

being called on to pronounce an opinion. To this end they required permission to spend several days and

nights uninterruptedly in the same room with the patients, and to treat them in the presence of other nuns and

some of the magistrates. Further, they required that all the food and medicine should pass through the doctors'

hands, and that no one, should touch the patients except quite openly, or speak to them except in an audible

voice. Under these conditions they would undertake to find out the true cause of the convulsions and to make

It being now nine o'clock in the morning, the hour when the exorcisms began, the bailiff went over at once to

the convent, and found Barre half way through the mass, and the superior in convulsions. The magistrate

entered the church at the moment of the elevation of the Host, and noticed among the kneeling Catholics a

young man called Dessentier standing up with his hat on. He ordered him either to uncover or to go away. At

this the convulsive movements of the superior became more violent, and she cried out that there were

Huguenots in the church, which gave the demon great power over her. Barre asked her how many there were

present, and she replied, "Two," thus proving that the devil was no stronger in arithmetic than in Latin; for

besides Dessentier, Councillor Abraham Gauthier, one of his brothers, four of his sisters, Rene Fourneau, a

deputy, and an attorney called Angevin, all of the Reformed faith, were present.

As Barre saw that those present were greatly struck, by this numerical inaccuracy, he tried to turn their

thoughts in another direction by asking the superior if it were true that she knew no Latin. On her replying

that she did not know a single word, he held the pyx before her and ordered her to swear by the holy

sacrament. She resisted at first, saying loud enough for those around her to hear

Just then one of the bystanders remarked that the mother superior was in the habit of interpreting the

Catechism to her scholars. This she denied, but acknowledged that she used to translate the Paternoster and

the Creed for them. As the superior felt herself becoming somewhat confused at this long series of

embarrassing questions, she decided on going into convulsions again, but with only moderate success, for the

bailiff insisted that the exorcists should ask her where Grandier was at that very moment. Now, as the ritual

teaches that one of the proofs of possession is the faculty of telling, when asked, where people are, without

seeing them, and as the question was propounded in the prescribed terms, she was bound to answer, so she

"That is not correct," said the bailiff, "for before coming here I pointed out a house to Grandier and asked him

to stay in it till I came back. If anybody will go there, they will be sure to find him, for he wished to help me

to discover the truth without my being obliged to resort to sequestration, which is a difficult measure to take

Barre was now ordered to send some of the monks present to the castle, accompanied by a magistrate and a

clerk. Barre chose the Carmelite prior, and the bailiff Charles Chauvet, assessor of the bailiwick, Ismael

Boulieau a priest, and Pierre Thibaut, an articled clerk, who all set out at once to execute their commission,

Meanwhile the superior, who had not spoken a word since the bailiff's declaration, remained, in spite of

repeated exorcisms, dumb, so Barre sent for Sister Claire, saying that one devil would encourage the other.

The bailiff entered a formal protest against this step, insisting that the only result of a double exorcism would

be to cause confusion, during which suggestions might be conveyed to the superior, and that the proper thing

to do was, before beginning new conjurations, to await the return of the messengers. Although the bailiff's

suggestion was most reasonable, Barre knew better than to adopt it, for he felt that no matter what it cost he

must either get rid of the bailiff and all the other officials who shared his doubts, or find means with the help

of Sister Claire to delude them into belief. The lay sister was therefore brought in, in spite of the opposition

of the bailiff and the other magistrates, and as they did not wish to seem to countenance a fraud, they all

withdrew, declaring that they could no longer look on at such a disgusting comedy. In the courtyard they met

their messengers returning, who told them they had gone first to the castle and had searched the great hall and

all the other rooms without seeing anything of Grandier; they had then gone to the house mentioned by the

bailiff, where they found him for whom they were looking, in the company of Pere Veret, the confessor of the

nuns, Mathurin Rousseau, and Nicolas Benoit, canons, and Conte, a doctor, from whom they learned that

Grandier had not been an instant out of their sight for the last two hours. This being all the magistrates

wanted to know, they went home, while their envoys went upstairs and told their story, which produced the

effect which might be expected. Thereupon a Carmelite brother wishing to weaken the impression, and

thinking that the devil might be more lucky in his, second guess than the first, asked the superior where

Grandier was just then. She answered without the slightest hesitation that he was walking with the bailiff in

the church of SainteCroix. A new deputation was at once sent off, which finding the church empty, went on

to the palace, and saw the bailiff presiding at a court. He had gone direct from the convent to the palace, and

had not yet seen Grandier. The same day the nuns sent word that they would not consent to any more

exorcisms being performed in the presence of the bailiff and the officials who usually accompanied him, and

that for the future they were determined to answer no questions before such witnesses.

Grandier learning of this piece of insolence, which prevented the only man on whose impartiality he could

reckon from being henceforward present at the exorcisms, once more handed in a petition to the bailiff,

begging for the sequestration of the two nuns, no matter at what risk. The bailiff, however, in the interests of

the petitioner himself, did not dare to grant this request, for he was afraid that the ecclesiastical authorities

would nullify his procedure, on the ground that the convent was not under his jurisdiction.

He, however, summoned a meeting of the principal inhabitants of the town, in order to consult with them as

to the best course to take for the public good. The conclusion they arrived at was to write to the

attorneygeneral and to the Bishop of Poitiers, enclosing copies of the reports which had been drawn up, and

imploring them to use their authority to put an end to these pernicious intrigues. This was done, but the

attorneygeneral replied that the matter being entirely ecclesiastical the Parliament was not competent to take

He was not, however, so silent towards Grandier's enemies; for the illsuccess of the exorcisms of November

26th having made increased precautions necessary, they considered it would be well to apply to the bishop

for a new commission, wherein he should appoint certain ecclesiastics to represent him during the exorcisms

to come. Barre himself went to Poitiers to make this request. It was immediately granted, and the bishop

appointed Bazile, seniorcanon of Champigny, and Demorans, senior canon of Thouars, both of whom were

related to some of Grandier's adversaries. The following is a copy of the new commission:

"HenriLouis le Chataignier de la Rochepezai, by the divine will Bishop of Poitiers, to the senior canons of

"We by these presents command you to repair to the town of Loudun, to the convent of the nuns of

SainteUrsule, to be present at the exorcisms which will be undertaken by Sieur Barre upon some nuns of the

said convent who are tormented by evil spirits, we having thereto authorised the said Barre. You are also to

draw up a report of all that takes place, and for this purpose are to take any clerk you may choose with you.

"(Signed) HENRI LOUIS, Bishop of Poitiers. "(Countersigned) By order of the said Lord Bishop,

These two commissioners having been notified beforehand, went to Loudun, where Marescot, one of the

queen's chaplains, arrived at the same time; for the pious queen, Anne of Austria, had heard so many

conflicting accounts of the possession of the Ursuline nuns, that she desired, for her own edification, to get to

the bottom of the affair. We can judge what importance the case was beginning to assume by its being

In spite of the notice which had been sent them that the nuns would not receive them, the bailiff and the civil

lieutenant fearing that the royal envoy would allow himself to be imposed on, and would draw up an account

which would cast doubt on the facts contained in their reports, betook themselves to the convent on

December 1st, the day on which the exorcisms were to recommence, in the presence of the new

commissioners. They were accompanied by their assessor, by the provost's lieutenant, and a clerk. They had

to knock repeatedly before anyone seemed to hear them, but at length a nun opened the door and told them

they could not enter, being suspected of bad faith, as they had publicly declared that the possession was a

fraud and an imposture. The bailiff, without wasting his time arguing with the sister, asked to see Barre, who

soon appeared arrayed in his priestly vestments, and surrounded by several persons, among whom was the

queen's chaplain. The bailiff complained that admittance had been refused to him and those with him,

although he had been authorised to visit the convent by the Bishop of Poitiers. Barre' replied that he would

"We are here with the intention of entering," said the bailiff, "and also for the purpose of requesting you to

put one or two questions to the demon which we have drawn up in terms which are in accordance with what

is prescribed in the ritual. I am sure you will not refuse," he added, turning with a bow to Marescot, "to make

this experiment in the presence of the queen's chaplain, since by that means all those suspicions of imposture

"In that respect I shall do as I please, and not as you order me," was the insolent reply of the exorcist.

"It is, however, your duty to follow legal methods in your procedure," returned the bailiff, "if you sincerely

desire the truth; for it would be an affront to God to perform a spurious miracle in His honour, and a wrong to

the Catholic faith, whose power is in its truth, to attempt to give adventitious lustre to its doctrines by the aid

"Sir," said Barre, "I am a man of honour, I know my duty and I shall discharge it; but as to yourself, I must

recall to your recollection that the last time you were here you left the chapel in anger and excitement, which

is an attitude of mind most unbecoming in one whose duty it is to administer justice."

Seeing that these recriminations would have no practical result, the magistrates cut them short by reiterating

their demand for admittance; and on this being refused, they reminded the exorcists that they were expressly

prohibited from asking any questions tending to cast a slur on the character of any person or persons

whatever, under pain of being treated as disturbers of the public peace. At this warning Barre, saying that he

did not acknowledge the bailiff's jurisdiction, shut the door in the faces of the two magistrates.

As there was no time to lose if the machinations of his enemies were to be brought to nought, the bailiff and

the civil lieutenant advised Grandier to write to the Archbishop of Bordeaux, who had once already extricated

him from imminent danger, setting forth at length his present predicament; this letter; accompanied by the

reports drawn up by the bailiff and the civil lieutenant, were sent off at once by a trusty messenger to His

Grace of Escoubleau de Sourdis. As soon as he received the despatches, the worthy prelate seeing how grave

was the crisis, and that the slightest delay might be fatal to Grandier, set out at once for his abbey of

SaintJouinlesMarmes, the place in which he had already vindicated in so striking a manner the upright

It is not difficult to realise what a blow his arrival was to those who held a brief for the evil spirits in

possession; hardly had he reached SaintJouin than he sent his own physician to the convent with orders to

see the afflicted nuns and to test their condition, in order to judge if the convulsions were real or simulated.

The physician arrived, armed with a letter from the archbishop, ordering Mignon to permit the bearer to make

a thorough examination into the position of affairs. Mignon received the physician with all the respect due to

him who sent him, but expressed great regret that he had not come a little sooner, as, thanks to his (Mignon's)

exertions and those of Barre, the devils had been exorcised the preceding day. He nevertheless introduced the

archbishop's envoy to the presence of the superior and Sister Claire, whose demeanour was as calm as if they

had never been disturbed by any agitating' experiences. Mignon's statement being thus confirmed, the doctor

returned to SaintJouin, the only thing to which he could bear testimony being the tranquillity which reigned

The imposture being now laid so completely bare, the archbishop was convinced that the infamous

persecutions to which it had led would cease at once and for ever; but Grandier, better acquainted with the

character of his adversaries, arrived on the 27th of December at the abbey and laid a petition at the

archbishop's feet. In this document he set forth that his enemies having formerly brought false and slanderous

accusations, against him of which, through the justice of the archbishop, he had been able to clear himself,

had employed themselves during the last three months in inventing and publishing as a fact that the petitioner

had sent evil spirits into the bodies of nuns in the Ursuline convent of Loudun, although he had never spoken

to any of the sisterhood there; that the guardianship of the sisters who, it was alleged, were possessed, and the

task of exorcism, had been entrusted to Jean Mignon and Pierre Barre, who had in the most unmistakable

manner shown themselves to be the mortal enemies of the petitioner; that in the reports drawn up by the said

Jean Mignon and Pierre Barre, which differed so widely from those made by the bailiff and the civil

lieutenant, it was boastfully alleged that three or four times devils had been driven out, but that they had

succeeded in returning and taking possession of their victims again and again, in virtue of successive pacts

entered into between the prince of darkness and the petitioner; that the aim of these reports and allegations

was to destroy the reputation of the petitioner and excite public opinion against him; that although the

demons had been put to flight by the arrival of His Grace, yet it was too probable that as soon as he was gone

they would return to the charge; that if, such being the case, the powerful support of the archbishop were not

available, the innocence of the petitioner, no matter how strongly established, would by the cunning tactics of

his inveterate foes be obscured and denied: he, the petitioner, therefore prayed that, should the foregoing

reasons prove on examination to be cogent, the archbishop would be pleased to prohibit Barre, Mignon, and

their partisans, whether among the secular or the regular clergy, from taking part in any future exorcisms,

should such be necessary, or in the control of any persons alleged to be possessed; furthermore, petitioner

prayed that His Grace would be pleased to appoint as a precautionary measure such other clerics and lay

persons as seemed to him suitable, to superintend the administration of food and medicine and the rite of

exorcism to those alleged to be possessed, and that all the treatment should be carried out in the presence of

"The present petition having been seen by us and the opinion of our attorney having been taken in the matter,

we have sent the petitioner in advance of our said attorney back to Poitiers, that justice may be done him, and

in the meantime we have appointed Sieur Barre, Pere l'Escaye, a Jesuit residing in Poitiers, Pere Gaut of the

Oratory, residing at Tours, to conduct the exorcisms, should such be necessary, and have given them an order

"It is forbidden to all others to meddle with the said exorcisms, on pain of being punished according to law."

It will be seen from the above that His Grace the Archbishop of Bordeaux, in his enlightened and generous

exercise of justice, had foreseen and provided for every possible contingency; so that as soon as his orders

were made known to the exorcists the possession ceased at once and completely, and was no longer even

talked of. Barre withdrew to Chinon, the senior canons rejoined their chapters, and the nuns, happily rescued

for the time, resumed their life of retirement and tranquillity. The archbishop nevertheless urged on Grandier

the prudence of effecting an exchange of benefices, but he replied that he would not at that moment change

The exposure of the plot was most prejudicial to the prosperity of the Ursuline community: spurious

possession, far from bringing to their convent an increase of subscriptions and enhancing their reputation, as

Mignon had promised, had ended for them in open shame, while in private they suffered from straitened

circumstances, for the parents of their boarders hastened to withdraw their daughters from the convent, and

the nuns in losing their pupils lost their sole source of income. Their, fall in the estimation of the public filled

them with despair, and it leaked out that they had had several altercations with their director, during which

they reproached him for having, by making them commit such a great sin, overwhelmed them with infamy

and reduced them to misery, instead of securing for them the great spiritual and temporal advantages he had

promised them. Mignon, although devoured by hate, was obliged to remain quiet, but he was none the less as

determined as ever to have revenge, and as he was one of those men who never give up while a gleam of

hope remains, and whom no waiting can tire, he bided his time, avoiding notice, apparently resigned to

circumstances, but keeping his eyes fixed on Grandier, ready to seize on the first chance of recovering

possession of the prey that had escaped his hands. And unluckily the chance soon presented itself.

It was now 1633: Richelieu was at the height of his power, carrying out his work of destruction, making

castles fall before him where he could not make heads fall, in the spirit of John Knox's words, "Destroy the

nests and the crows will disappear." Now one of these nests was the crenellated castle of Loudun, and

The person appointed to carry out this order was a man such as those whom Louis XI. had employed fifty

years earlier to destroy the feudal system, and Robespierre one hundred and fifty years later to destroy the

aristocracy. Every woodman needs an axe, every reaper a sickle, and Richelieu found the instrument he

But he was an instrument full of intelligence, detecting by the manner in which he was wielded the moving

passion of the wielder, and adapting his whole nature with marvellous dexterity to gratify that passion

according to the character of him whom it possessed; now by a rough and ready impetuosity, now by a

deliberate and hidden advance; equally willing to strike with the sword or to poison by calumny, as the man

who moved him lusted for the blood or sought to accomplish the dishonour of his victim.

M. de Laubardemont arrived at Loudun during the month of August 1633, and in order to carry out his

mission addressed himself to Sieur Memin de Silly, prefect of the town, that old friend of the cardinal's whom

Mignon and Barre, as we have said, had impressed so favourably. Memin saw in the arrival of Laubardemont

a special intimation that it was the will of Heaven that the seemingly lost cause of those in whom he took

such a warm interest should ultimately triumph. He presented Mignon and all his friends to M.

Laubardemont, who received them with much cordiality. They talked of the mother superior, who was a

relation, as we have seen, of M. de Laubardemont, and exaggerated the insult offered her by the decree of the

archbishop, saying it was an affront to the whole family; and before long the one thing alone which occupied

the thoughts of the conspirators and the councillor was how best to draw down upon Grandier the anger of the

The Queen mother, Marie de Medici, had among her attendants a woman called Hammon, to whom, having

once had occasion to speak, she had taken a fancy, and given a post near her person. In consequence of this

whim, Hammon came to be regarded as a person of some importance in the queen's household. Hammon was

a native of Loudun, and had passed the greater part of her youth there with her own people, who belonged to

the lower classes. Grandier had been her confessor, and she attended his church, and as she was lively and

clever he enjoyed talking to her, so that at length an intimacy sprang up between them. It so happened at a

time when he and the other ministers were in momentary disgrace, that a satire full of biting wit and raillery

appeared, directed especially against the cardinal, and this satire had been attributed to Hammon, who was

known to share, as was natural, her mistress's hatred of Richelieu. Protected as she was by the queen's favour,

the cardinal had found it impossible to punish Hammon, but he still cherished a deep resentment against her.

It now occurred to the conspirators to accuse Grandier of being the real author of the satire; and it was

asserted that he had learned from Hammon all the details of the cardinal's private life, the knowledge of

which gave so much point to the attack on him; if they could once succeed in making Richelieu believe this,

This plan being decided on, M. de Laubardemont was asked to visit the convent, and the devils knowing what

an important personage he was, flocked thither to give him a worthy welcome. Accordingly, the nuns had

attacks of the most indescribably violent convulsions, and M. de Laubardemont returned to Paris convinced

The first word the councillor of state said to the cardinal about Urbain Grandier showed him that he had taken

useless trouble in inventing the story about the satire, for by the bare mention of his name he was able to

arouse the cardinal's anger to any height he wished. The fact was, that when Richelieu had been Prior of

Coussay he and Grandier had had a quarrel on a question of etiquette, the latter as priest of Loudun having

claimed precedence over the prior, and carried his point. The cardinal had noted the affront in his

bloodstained tablets, and at the first hint de Laubardemont found him as eager to bring about Grandier's ruin

"Sieur de Laubardemont, Councillor of State and Privy Councillor, will betake himself to Loudun, and to

whatever other places may be necessary, to institute proceedings against Grandier on all the charges formerly

preferred against him, and on other facts which have since come to light, touching the possession by evil

spirits of the Ursuline nuns of Loudun, and of other persons, who are said like wise to be tormented of devils

through the evil practices of the said Grandier; he will diligently investigate everything from the beginning

that has any bearing either on the said possession or on the exorcisms, and will forward to us his report

thereon, and the reports and other documents sent in by former commissioners and delegates, and will be

present at all future exorcisms, and take proper steps to obtain evidence of the said facts, that they may be

clearly established; and, above all, will direct, institute, and carry through the said proceedings against

Grandier and all others who have been involved with him in the said case, until definitive sentence be passed;

and in spite of any appeal or countercharge this cause will not be delayed (but without prejudice to the right

of appeal in other causes), on account of the nature of the crimes, and no regard will be paid to any request

for postponement made by the said Grandier. His majesty commands all governors, provincial

lieutenantgenerals, bailiffs, seneschals, and other municipal authorities, and all subjects whom it may

concern, to give every assistance in arresting and imprisoning all persons whom it may be necessary to put

Furnished with this order, which was equivalent to a condemnation, de Laubardemont arrived at Laudun, the

5th of December, 1633, at nine o'clock in the evening; and to avoid being seen he alighted in a suburb at the

house of one maitre Paul Aubin, king's usher, and son inlaw of Memin de Silly. His arrival was kept so

secret that neither Grandier nor his friends knew of it, but Memin, Herve Menuau, and Mignon were notified,

and immediately called on him. De Laubardemont received them, commission in hand, but broad as it was, it

did not seem to them sufficient, for it contained no order for Grandier's arrest, and Grandier might fly. De

Laubardemont, smiling at the idea that he could be so much in fault, drew from his pocket an order in

duplicate, in case one copy should be lost, dated like the commission, November 30th, signed LOUIS, and

LOUIS, etc. etc. "We have entrusted these presents to Sieur de Laubardemont, Privy Councillor, to empower

the said Sieur de Laubardemont to arrest Grandier and his accomplices and imprison them in a secure place,

with orders to all provosts, marshals, and other officers, and to all our subjects in general, to lend whatever

assistance is necessary to carry out above order; and they are commanded by these presents to obey all orders

given by the said Sieur; and all governors and lieutenantsgeneral are also hereby commanded to furnish the

This document being the completion of the other, it was immediately resolved, in order to show that they had

the royal authority at their back, and as a preventive measure, to arrest Grandier at once, without any

preliminary investigation. They hoped by this step to intimidate any official who might still be inclined to

take Grandier's part, and any witness who might be disposed to testify in his favour. Accordingly, they

immediately sent for Guillaume Aubin, Sieur de Lagrange arid provost's lieutenant. De Laubardemont

communicated to him the commission of the cardinal and the order of the king, and requested him to arrest

Grandier early next morning. M. de Lagrange could not deny the two signatures, and answered that he would

obey; but as he foresaw from their manner of going to work that the proceedings about to be instituted would

be an assassination and not a fair trial, he sent, in spite of being a distant connection of Memin, whose

daughter was married to his (Lagrange's) brother, to warn Grandier of the orders he had received. But

Grandier with his usual intrepidity, while thanking Lagrange for his generous message, sent back word that,

secure in his innocence and relying on the justice of God, he was determined to stand his ground.

So Grandier remained, and his brother, who slept beside him, declared that his sleep that night was as quiet as

usual. The next morning he rose, as was his habit, at six o'clock, took his breviary in his hand, and went out

with the intention of attending matins at the church of SainteCroix. He had hardly put his foot over the

threshold before Lagrange, in the presence of Memin, Mignon, and the other conspirators, who had come out

to gloat over the sight, arrested him in the name of the king. He was at once placed in the custody of Jean

Pouguet, an archer in His Majesty's guards, and of the archers of the provosts of Loudun and Chinon, to be

taken to the castle at Angers. Meanwhile a search was instituted, and the royal seal affixed to the doors of his

apartments, to his presses, his other articles of furniturein fact, to every thing and place in the house; but

nothing was found that tended to compromise him, except an essay against the celibacy of priests, and two

sheets of paper whereon were written in another hand than his, some lovepoems in the taste of that time.

For four months Grandier languished in prison, and, according to the report of Michelon, commandant of

Angers, and of Pierre Bacher, his confessor, he was, during the whole period, a model of patience and

firmness, passing his days in reading good books or in writing prayers and meditations, which were

afterwards produced at his trial. Meanwhile, in spite of the urgent appeals of Jeanne Esteye, mother of the

accused, who, although seventy years of age, seemed to recover her youthful strength and activity in the

desire to save her son, Laubardemont continued the examination, which was finished on April 4th. Urbain

An extraordinary cell had been prepared for him in a house belonging to Mignon, and which had formerly

been occupied by a sergeant named Bontems, once clerk to Trinquant, who had been a witness for the

prosecution in the first trial. It was on the topmost story; the windows had been walled up, leaving only one

small slit open, and even this opening was secured by enormous iron bars; and by an exaggeration of caution

the mouth of the fireplace was furnished with a grating, lest the devils should arrive through the chimney to

free the sorcerer from his chains. Furthermore, two holes in the corners of the room, so formed that they were

unnoticeable from within, allowed a constant watch to be kept over Grandier's movements by Bontem's wife,

a precaution by which they hoped to learn something that would help them in the coming exorcisms. In this

room, lying on a little straw, and almost without light, Grandier wrote the following letter to his mother:

"MY MOTHER,I received your letter and everything you sent me except the woollen stockings. I endure

any affliction with patience, and feel more pity for you than for myself. I am very much inconvenienced for

want of a bed; try and have mine brought to me, for my mind will give way if my body has no rest: if you

can, send me a breviary, a Bible, and a St. Thomas for my consolation; and above all, do not grieve for me. I

trust that, God will bring my innocence to light. Commend me to my brother and sister, and all our good

While Grandier had been in prison at Angers the cases of possession at the convent had miraculously

multiplied, for it was no longer only the superior and Sister Claire who had fallen a prey to the evil spirits,

but also several other sisters, who were divided into three groups as follows, and separated:

The superior, with Sisters Louise des Anges and Anne de SainteAgnes, were sent to the house of Sieur

Delaville, advocate, legal adviser to the sisterhood; Sisters Claire and Catherine de la Presentation were

placed in the house of Canon Maurat; Sisters Elisabeth de la Croix, Monique de SainteMarthe, Jeanne du

A general supervision was undertaken by Memin's sister, the wife of Moussant, who was thus closely

connected with two of the greatest enemies of the accused, and to her Bontems' wife told all that the superior

The choice of physicians was no less extraordinary. Instead of calling in the most skilled practitioners of

Angers, Tours, Poitiers, or Saumur, all of them, except Daniel Roger of Loudun, came from the surrounding

villages, and were men of no education: one of them, indeed, had failed to obtain either degree or licence, and

had been obliged to leave Saumur in consequence; another had been employed in a small shop to take goods

There was just as little sense of fairness and propriety shown in the choice of the apothecary and surgeon.

The apothecary, whose name was Adam, was Mignon's first cousin, and had been one of the witnesses for the

prosecution at Grandier's first trial; and as on that occasionhe had libelled a young girl of Loudun, he had

been sentenced by a decree of Parliament to make a public apology. And yet, though his hatred of Grandier in

consequence of this humiliation was so well known,perhaps for that very reason, it was to him the duty of

dispensing and administering the prescriptions was entrusted, no one supervising the work even so far as to

see that the proper doses were given, or taking note whether for sedatives he did not sometimes substitute

stimulating and exciting drugs, capable of producing real convulsions. The surgeon Mannouri was still more

unsuitable, for he was a nephew of Memin de Silly, and brother of the nun who had offered the most

determined opposition to Grandier's demand for sequestration of the possessed sisters, during the second

series of exorcisms. In vain did the mother and brother of the accused present petitions setting forth the

incapacity of the doctors and the hatred of Grandier professed by the apothecary; they could not, even at their

own expense, obtain certified copies of any of these petitions, although they had witnesses ready to prove that

Adam had once in his ignorance dispensed crocus metallorum for crocus mantisa mistake which had

caused the death of the patient for whom the prescription was made up. In short, so determined were the

conspirators that this time Grandier should be done to death, that they had not even the decency to conceal

The examination was carried on with vigour. As one of the first formalities would be the identification of the

accused, Grandier published a memorial in which he recalled the case of Saint Anastasius at the Council of

Tyre, who had been accused of immorality by a fallen woman whom he had never seen before. When this

woman entered the hall of justice in order to swear to her deposition, a priest named Timothy went up to her

and began to talk to her as if he were Anastasius; falling into the trap, she answered as if she recognised him,

and thus the innocence of the saint was shown forth. Grandier therefore demanded that two or three persons

of his own height and complexion should be dressed exactly like himself, and with him should be allowed to

confront the nuns. As he had never seen any of them, and was almost certain they had never seen him, they

would not be able, he felt sure, to point him out with certainty, in spite of the allegations of undue intimacy

with themselves they brought against him. This demand showed such conscious innocence that it was

Meanwhile the Bishop of Poitiers, who felt much elated at getting the better of the Archbishop of Bordeaux,

who of course was powerless against an order issued by the cardinalduke, took exception to Pere 1'Escaye

and Pere Gaut, the exorcists appointed by his superior, and named instead his own chaplain, who had been

judge at Grandier's first trial, and had passed sentence on him, and Pere Lactance, a Franciscan monk. These

two, making no secret of the side with which they sympathised, put up on their arrival at Nicolas Moussant's,

one of Grandier's most bitter enemies; on the following day they went to the superior's apartments and began

their exorcisms. The first time the superior opened her lips to reply, Pere Lactance perceived that she knew

almost no Latin, and consequently would not shine during the exorcism, so he ordered her to answer in

French, although he still continued to exorcise her in Latin; and when someone was bold enough to object,

saying that the devil, according to the ritual, knew all languages living and dead, and ought to reply in the

same language in which he was addressed, the father declared that the incongruity was caused by the pact,

Following these exorcists, and two Carmelite monks, named Pierre de SaintThomas and Pierre de

SaintMathurin, who had, from the very beginning, pushed their way in when anything was going on, came

four Capuchins sent by Pere Joseph, head of the Franciscans, "His grey Eminence," as he was called, and

whose names were Peres Luc, Tranquille, Potais, and Elisee; so that a much more rapid advance could be

made than hitherto by carrying on the exorcisms in four different places at onceviz., in the convent, and in

the churches of SainteCroix, SaintPierre du Martroy, and NotreDame du Chateau. Very little of

importance took place, however, on the first two occasions, the 15th and 16th of April; for the declarations of

the doctors were most vague and indefinite, merely saying that the things they had seen were supernatural,

The ceremony of the 23rd April presented, however, some points of interest. The superior, in reply to the

interrogations of Pere Lactance, stated that the demon had entered her body under the forms of a cat, a dog, a

"I didn't notice the day," replied the superior, mistaking the word quoties for quando (when).

It was probably to revenge herself for this error that the superior declared the same day that Grandier had on

his body five marks made by the devil, and that though his body was else insensible to pain, he was

vulnerable at those spots. Mannouri, the surgeon, was therefore ordered to verify this assertion, and the day

In virtue of this mandate Mannouri presented himself early on that day at Grandier's prison, caused him to be

stripped naked and cleanly shaven, then ordered him to be laid on a table and his eyes bandaged. But the

devil was wrong again: Grandier had only two marks, instead of fiveone on the shoulderblade, and the

Then took place one of the most abominable performances that can be imagined. Mannouri held in his hand a

probe, with a hollow handle, into which the needle slipped when a spring was touched: when Mannouri

applied the probe to those parts of Grandier's body which, according to the superior, were insensible, he

touched the spring, and the needle, while seeming to bury itself in the flesh, really retreated into the handle,

thus causing no pain; but when he touched one of the marks said to be vulnerable, he left the needle fixed,

and drove it in to the depth of several inches. The first time he did this it drew from poor Grandier, who was

taken unprepared, such a piercing cry that it was heard in the street by the crowd which had gathered round

the door. From the mark on the shoulderblade with which he had commenced, Mannouri passed to that on

the thigh, but though he plunged the needle in to its full depth Grandier uttered neither cry nor groan, but

went on quietly repeating a prayer, and notwithstanding that Mannouri stabbed him twice more through each

of the two marks, he could draw nothing from his victim but prayers for his tormentors.

The next day the devil was addressed in such forcible terms that an acknowledgment was wrung from him

that Grandier's body bore, not five, but two marks only; and also, to the vast admiration of the spectators, he

Unfortunately for the demon, a joke in which he indulged on this occasion detracted from the effect of the

above proof of cleverness. Having been asked why he had refused to speak on the preceding Saturday, he

said he had not been at Loudun on that day, as the whole morning he had been occupied in accompanying the

soul of a certain Le Proust, attorney to the Parliament of Paris, to hell. This answer awoke such doubts in the

breasts of some of the laymen present that they took the trouble to examine the register of deaths, and found

that no one of the name of Le Proust, belonging to any profession whatever, had died on that date. This

Meantime the progress of the other exorcisms met with like interruptions. Pere Pierre de Saint Thomas, who

conducted the operations in the Carmelite church, asked one of the possessed sisters where Grandier's books

of magic were; she replied that they were kept at the house of a certain young girl, whose name she gave, and

who was the same to whom Adam had been forced to apologise. De Laubardemont, Moussant, Herve, and

Meunau hastened at once to the house indicated, searched the rooms and the presses, opened the chests and

the wardrobes and all the secret places in the house, but in vain. On their return to the church, they

reproached the devil for having deceived them, but he explained that a niece of the young woman had

removed the books. Upon this, they hurried to the niece's dwelling, but unluckily she was not at home, having

spent the whole day at a certain church making her devotions, and when they went thither, the priests and

attendants averred that she had not gone out all day; so notwithstanding the desire of the exorcists to oblige

These two false statements increased the number of unbelievers; but it was announced that a most interesting

performance would take place on May 4th; indeed, the programme when issued was varied enough to arouse

general curiosity. Asmodeus was to raise the superior two feet from the ground, and the fiends Eazas and

Cerberus, in emulation of their leader, would do as much for two other nuns; while a fourth devil, named

Beherit, would go farther still, and, greatly daring, would attack M. de Laubardemont himself, and, having

spirited his councillor's cap from his head, would hold it suspended in the air for the space of a Misereye.

Furthermore, the exorcists announced that six of the strongest men in the town would try to prevent the

It need hardly be said that the prospect of such an entertainment filled the church on the appointed day to

overflowing. Pere Lactance began by calling on Asmodeus to fulfil his promise of raising the superior from

the ground. She began, hereupon, to perform various evolutions on her mattress, and at one moment it

seemed as if she were really suspended in the air; but one of the spectators lifted her dress and showed that

she was only standing on tiptoe, which, though it might be clever, was not miraculous. Shouts of laughter rent

the air, which had such an intimidating effect on Eazas and Cerberus that not all the adjurations of the

exorcists could extract the slightest response. Beherit was their last hope, and he replied that he was prepared

to lift up M. de Laubardemont's cap, and would do so before the expiration of a quarter of an hour.

We must here remark that this time the exorcisms took place in the evening, instead of in the morning as

hitherto; and it was now growing dark, and darkness is favourable to illusions. Several of the unbelieving

ones present, therefore, began to call attention to the fact that the quarter of an hour's delay would necessitate

the employment of artificial light during the next scene. They also noticed that M. de Laubardemont had

seated himself apart and immediately beneath one of the arches in the vaulted roof, through which a hole had

been drilled for the passage of the bellrope. They therefore slipped out of the church, and up into the belfry,

where they hid. In a few moments a man appeared who began to work at something. They sprang on him and

seized his wrists, and found in one of his hands a thin line of horsehair, to one end of which a hook was

attached. The holder being frightened, dropped the line and fled, and although M. de Laubardemont, the

exorcists, and the spectators waited, expecting every moment that the cap would rise into the air, it remained

quite firm on the owner's head, to the no small confusion of Pere Lactance, who, all unwitting of the fiasco,

Altogether, this performance of May 4th, went anything but smoothly. Till now no trick had succeeded; never

before had the demons been such bunglers. But the exorcists were sure that the last trick would go off without

a hitch. This was, that a nun, held by six men chosen for their strength, would succeed in extricating herself

from their grasp, despite their utmost efforts. Two Carmelites and two Capuchins went through the audience

This time the devil answered expectations by showing that if he was not clever he was strong, for although

the six men tried to hold her down upon her mattress, the superior was seized with such terrible convulsions

that she escaped from their hands, throwing down one of those who tried to detain her. This experiment,

thrice renewed, succeeded thrice, and belief seemed about to return to the assembly, when a physician of

Saumur named Duncan, suspecting trickery, entered the choir, and, ordering the six men to retire, said he was

going to try and hold the superior down unaided, and if she escaped from his hands he would make a public

apology for his unbelief. M. de Laubardemont tried to prevent this test, by objecting to Duncan as an atheist,

but as Duncan was greatly respected on account of his skill and probity, there was such an outcry at this

interference from the entire audience that the commissioner was forced to let him have his way. The six

porters were therefore dismissed, but instead of resuming their places among the spectators they left the

church by the sacristy, while Duncan approaching the bed on which the superior had again lain down, seized

her by the wrist, and making certain that he had a firm hold, he told the exorcists to begin.

Never up to that time had it been so clearly shown that the conflict going on was between public opinion and

the private aims of a few. A hush fell on the church; everyone stood motionless in silent expectancy.

The moment Pere Lactance uttered the sacred words the convulsions of the superior recommenced; but it

seemed as if Duncan had more strength than his six predecessors together, for twist and writhe and struggle

as she would, the superior's wrist remained none the less firmly clasped in Duncan's hand. At length she fell

Release her arm! "shouted Pere Lactance in a rage. "How can the convulsions take place if you hold her that

"If she is really possessed by a demon," answered Duncan aloud, "he should be stronger than I; for it is stated

in the ritual that among the symptoms of possession is strength beyond one's years, beyond one's condition,

"That is badly argued," said Lactance sharply: "a demon outside the body is indeed stronger than you, but

when enclosed in a weak frame such as this it cannot show such strength, for its efforts are proportioned to

"Enough!" said M. de Laubardemont ; "we did not come here to argue with philosophers, but to build up the

With that he rose up from his chair amidst a terrible uproar, and the assembly dispersed in the utmost

The ill success of this exhibition caused a cessation of events of interest for some days. The result was that a

great number of noblemen and other people of quality who had come to Loudun expecting to see wonders

and had been shown only commonplace transparent tricks, began to think it was not worth while remaining

any longer, and went their several waysa defection much bewailed by Pere Tranquille in a little work

"Many," he says, "came to see miracles at Loudun, but finding the devils did not give them the signs they

expected, they went away dissatisfied, and swelled the numbers of the unbelieving."

It was determined, therefore, in order to keep the town full, to predict some great event which would revive

curiosity and increase faith. Pere Lactance therefore announced that on the 20th of May three of the seven

devils dwelling in the superior would come out, leaving three wounds in her left side, with corresponding

holes in her chemise, bodice, and dress. The three parting devils were Asmodeus, Gresil des Trones, and

Aman des Puissances. He added that the superior's hands would be bound behind her back at the time the

On the appointed day the church of SainteCroix was filled to overflowing with sightseers curious to know if

the devils would keep their promises better this time than the last. Physicians were invited to examine the

superior's side and her clothes; and amongst those who came forward was Duncan, whose presence

guaranteed the public against deception; but none of the exorcists ventured to exclude him, despite the hatred

in which they held hima hatred which they would have made him feel if he had not been under the special

protection of Marshal Breze. The physicians having completed their examination, gave the following

"We have found no wound in the patient's side, no rent in her vestments, and our search revealed no sharp

These preliminaries having been got through, Pere Lactance questioned her in French for nearly two hours,

her answers being in the same language. Then he passed from questions to adjurations: on this, Duncan came

forward, and said a promise had been given that the superior's hands should be tied behind her back, in order

that there might be no room for suspicion of fraud, and that the moment had now arrived to keep that

promise. Pere Lactance admitted the justice of the demand, but said as there were many present who had

never seen the superior in convulsions such as afflicted the possessed, it would be only fair that she should be

exorcised for their satisfaction before binding her. Accordingly he began to repeat the form of exorcism, and

the superior was immediately attacked by frightful convulsions, which in a few minutes produced complete

exhaustion, so that she fell on her face to the ground, and turning on her left arm and side, remained

motionless some instants, after which she uttered a low cry, followed by a groan. The physicians approached

her, and Duncan seeing her take away her hand from her left side, seized her arm, and found that the tips of

her fingers were stained with blood. They then examined her clothing and body, and found her dress, bodice,

and chemise cut through in three places, the cuts being less than an inch long. There were also three scratches

beneath the left breast, so slight as to be scarcely more than skin deep, the middle one being a barleycorn in

length; still, from all three a sufficient quantity of blood had oozed to stain the chemise above them.

This time the fraud was so glaring that even de Laubardemont exhibited some signs of confusion because of

the number and quality of the spectators. He would not, however, allow the doctors to include in their report

their opinion as to the manner in which the wounds were inflicted; but Grandier protested against this in a

Statement of Facts, which he drew up during the night, and which was distributed next day.

"That if the superior had not groaned the physicians would not have removed her clothes, and would have

suffered her to be bound, without having the least idea that the wounds were already made; that then the

exorcists would have commanded the devils to come forth, leaving the traces they had promised; that the

superior would then have gone through the most extraordinary contortions of which she was capable, and

have had a long fit of, convulsions, at the end of which she would have been delivered from the three

demons, and the wounds would have been found in her body; that her groans, which had betrayed her, had by

God's will thwarted the bestlaid plans of men and devils. Why do you suppose," he went on to ask, "that

clean incised wounds, such as a sharp blade would make, 'were chosen for a token, seeing that the wounds

left by devils resemble burns? Was it not because it was easier for the superior to conceal a lancet with which

to wound herself slightly, than to conceal any instrument sufficiently heated to burn her? Why do you think

the left side was chosen rather than the forehead and nose, if not because she could not give herself a wound

in either of those places without being seen by all the spectators? Why was the left side rather than the right

chosen, if it were not that it was easier for the superior to wound herself with her right hand, which she

habitually used, in the left side than in the right? Why did she turn on her left side and arm and remain so

long in that position, if it were not to hide from the bystanders the instrument with which she wounded

herself? What do you think caused her to groan, in spite of all her resolution, if it were not the pain of the

wound she gave herself? for the most courageous cannot repress a shudder when the surgeon opens a vein.

Why were her fingertips stained with blood, if it were not that the secreted blade was so small that the

fingers which held it could not escape being reddened by the blood it caused to flow? How came it that the

wounds were so superficial that they barely went deeper than the cuticle, while devils are known to rend and

tear demoniacs when leaving them, if it were not that the superior did not hate herself enough to inflict deep

Despite this logical protest from Grandier and the barefaced knavery of the exorcist, M. de Laubardemont

prepared a report of the expulsion of the three devils, Asmodeus, Gresil, and Aman, from the body of sister

Jeanne des Anges, through three wounds below the region of the heart; a report which was afterwards

shamelessly used against Grandier, and of which the memorandum still exists, a monument, not so much of

credulity and superstition, as of hatred and revenge. Pere Lactance, in order to allay the suspicions which the

pretended miracle had aroused among the eyewittnesses, asked Balaam, one of the four demons who still

remained in the superior's body, the following day, why Asmodeus and his two companions had gone out

against their promise, while the superior's face and hands were hidden from the people.

As for Pere Tranquille, he published a little volume describing the whole affair, in which, with the

irresponsible frivolity of a true Capuchin, he poked fun at those who could not swallow the miracles

"They had every reason to feel vexed," he said, "at the small courtesy or civility shown by the demons to

persons of their merit and station; but if they had examined their consciences, perhaps they would have found

the real reason of their discontent, and, turning their anger against themselves, would have done penance for

having come to the exorcisms led by a depraved moral sense and a prying spirit."

Nothing remarkable happened from the 20th May till the 13th June, a day which became noteworthy by

reason of the superior's vomiting a quill a finger long. It was doubtless this last miracle which brought the

Bishop of Poitiers to Loudun, "not," as he said to those who came to pay their respects to him, "to examine

into the genuineness of the possession, but to force those to believe who still doubted, and to discover the

classes which Urbain had founded to teach the black art to pupils of both sexes."

Thereupon the opinion began to prevail among the people that it would be prudent to believe in the

possession, since the king, the cardinalduke, and the bishop believed in it, and that continued doubt would

lay them open to the charges of disloyalty to their king and their Church, and of complicity in the crimes of

"The reason we feel so certain that our work is pleasing to God is that it is also pleasing to the king," wrote

The arrival of the bishop was followed by a new exorcism; and of this an eyewitness, who was a good

Catholic and a firm believer in possession, has left us a written description, more interesting than any we

"On Friday, 23rd June 1634, on the Eve of Saint John, about 3 p.m., the Lord Bishop of Poitiers and M. de

Laubardemont being present in the church of SainteCroix of Loudun, to continue the exorcisms of the

Ursuline nuns, by order of M, de Laubardemont, commissioner, Urbain Grandier, priestincharge, accused

and denounced as a magician by the said possessed nuns, was brought from his prison to the said church.

"There were produced by the said commissioner to the said Urbain Grandier four pacts mentioned several

times by the said possessed nuns at the preceding exorcisms, which the devils who possessed the nuns

declared they had made with the said Grandier on several occasions: there was one in especial which

Leviathan gave up on Saturday the 17th inst., composed of an infant's heart procured at a witches' sabbath,

held in Orleans in 1631; the ashes of a consecrated wafer, blood, etc., of the said Grandier, whereby

Leviathan asserted he had entered the body of the sister, Jeanne des Anges, the superior of the said nuns, and

took possession of her with his coadjutors Beherit, Eazas, and Balaam, on December 8th, 1632. Another such

pact was composed of the pips of Grenada oranges, and was given up by Asmodeus and a number of other

devils. It had been made to hinder Beherit from keeping his promise to lift the commissioner's hat two inches

from his head and to hold it there the length of a Miseyere, as a sign that he had come out of the nun. On all

these pacts being shown to the said Grandier, he said, without astonishment, but with much firmness and

resolution, that he had no knowledge of them whatever, that he had never made them, and had not the skill by

which to make them, that he had held no communication with devils, and knew nothing of what they were

"This done, they brought all the possessed nuns, to the number of eleven or twelve, including three lay sisters,

also possessed, into the choir of the said church, accompanied by a great many monks, Carmelites,

Capuchins, and Franciscans; and by three physicians and a surgeon. The sisters on entering made some

wanton remarks, calling Grandier their master, and exhibiting great delight at seeing him.

"Thereupon Pere Lactance and Gabriel, a Franciscan brother, and one of the exorcists, exhorted all present

with great fervour to lift up their hearts to God and to make an act of contrition for the offences committed

against His divine majesty, and to pray that the number of their sins might not be an obstacle to the fulfilment

of the plans which He in His providence had formed for the promotion of His glory on that occasion, and to

give outward proof of their heartfelt grief by repeating the Confiteor as a preparation for the blessing of the

Lord Bishop of Poitiers. This having been done, he went on to say that the matter in question was of such

moment and so important in its relation to the great truths of the Roman Catholic Church, that this

consideration alone ought to be sufficient to excite their devotion; and furthermore, that the affliction of these

poor sisters was so peculiar and had lasted so long, that charity impelled all those who had the right to work

for their deliverance and the expulsion of the devils, to employ the power entrusted to them with their office

in accomplishing so worthy a task by the forms of exorcism prescribed by the Church to its ministers; then

addressing Grandier, he said that he having been anointed as a priest belonged to this number, and that he

ought to help with all his power and with all his energy, if the bishop were pleased to allow him to do so, and

to remit his suspension from authority. The bishop having granted permission, the Franciscan friar offered a

stole to Grandier, who, turning towards the prelate, asked him if he might take it. On receiving a reply in the

affirmative, he passed it round his neck, and on being offered a copy of the ritual, he asked permission to

accept it as before, and received the bishop's blessing, prostrating himself at his feet to kiss them; whereupon

the Veni Creator Spiritus having been sung, he rose, and addressing the bishop, asked

"'That is to say, my lord,' said he; "that I am obliged to believe in the fact of possession. The Church believes

in it, therefore I too believe; but I cannot believe that a sorcerer can cause a Christian to be possessed unless

"Upon this, some of those present exclaimed that it was heretical to profess such a belief; that the contrary

was indubitable, believed by the whole Church and approved by the Sorbonne. To which he replied that his

mind on that point was not yet irrevocably made up, that what he had said was simply his own idea, and that

in any case he submitted to the opinion of the whole body of which he was only a member; that nobody was

declared a heretic for having doubts, but only for persisting in them, and that what he had advanced was only

for the purpose of drawing an assurance from the bishop that in doing what he was about to do he would not

be abusing the authority of the Church. Sister Catherine having been brought to him by the Franciscan as the

most ignorant of all the nuns, and the least open to the suspicion of being acquainted with Latin, he began the

exorcism in the form prescribed by the ritual. But as soon as he began to question her he was interrupted, for

all the other nuns were attacked by devils, and uttered strange and terrible noises. Amongst the rest, Sister

Claire came near, and reproached him for his blindness and obstinacy, so that he was forced to leave the nun

with whom he had begun, and address his words to the said Sister Claire, who during the entire duration of

the exorcism continued to talk at random, without paying any heed to Grandier's words, which were also

interrupted by the mother superior, to whom he of last gave attention, leaving Sister Claire. But it is to be

noted that before beginning to exorcise the superior, he said, speaking in Latin as heretofore, that knowing

she understood Latin, he would question her in Greek. To which the devil replied by the mouth of the

"'Ah! how clever you are! You know it was one of the first conditions of our pact that I was not to answer in

"He was then told that he was permitted to exorcise in Greek, provided he first wrote down what he wished to

say, and the superior hereupon said that he should be answered in what language he pleased; but it was

impossible, for as soon as he opened his mouth all the nuns recommenced their shrieks and paroxysms,

showing unexampled despair, and giving way to convulsions, which in each patient assumed a new form, and

persisting in accusing Grandier of using magic and the black art to torment them; offering to wring his neck if

they were allowed, and trying to outrage his feelings in every possible way. But this being against the

prohibitions of the Church, the priests and monks present worked with the utmost zeal to calm the frenzy

which had seized on the nuns. Grandier meanwhile remained calm and unmoved, gazing fixedly at the

maniacs, protesting his innocence, and praying to God for protection. Then addressing himself to the bishop

and M. de Laubardemont, he implored them by the ecclesiastical and royal authority of which they were the

ministers to command these demons to wring his neck, or at least to put a mark in his forehead, if he were

guilty of the crime of which they accused him, that the glory of God might be shown forth, the authority of

the Church vindicated, and himself brought to confusion, provided that the nuns did not touch him with their

hands. But to this the bishop and the commissioner would not consent, because they did not want to be

responsible for what might happen to him, neither would they expose the authority of the Church to the wiles

of the devils, who might have made some pact on that point with Grandier. Then the exorcists, to the number

of eight, having commanded the devils to be silent and to cease their tumult, ordered a brazier to be brought,

and into this they threw the pacts one by one, whereupon the convulsions returned with such awful violence

and confused cries, rising into frenzied shrieks, and accompanied by such horrible contortions, that the scene

might have been taken for an orgy of witches, were it not for the sanctity of the place and the character of

those present, of whom Grandier, in outward seeming at least, was the least amazed of any, although he had

the most reason. The devils continued their accusations, citing the places, the days, and the hours of their

intercourse with him; the first spell he cast on them, his scandalous behaviour, his insensibility, his

abjurations of God and the faith. To all this he calmly returned that these accusations were calumnies, and all

the more unjust considering his profession; that he renounced Satan and all his fiends, having neither

knowledge nor comprehension of them; that in spite of all he was a Christian, and what was more, an

anointed priest; that though he knew himself to be a sinful man, yet his trust was in God and in His Christ;

that he had never indulged in such abominations, end that it would be impossible to furnish any pertinent and

"At this point no words could express what the senses perceived; eyes and ears received an impression of

being surrounded by furies such as had never been gathered together before; and unless accustomed to such

ghastly scenes as those who sacrifice to demons, no one could keep his mind free from astonishment and

horror in the midst of such a spectacle. Grandier alone remained unchanged through it all, seemingly

insensible to the monstrous exhibitions, singing hymns to the Lord with the rest of the people, as confident as

if he were guarded by legions of angels. One of the demons cried out that Beelzebub was standing between

"Upon this the demon began to curse, and said that was their watchword; but they could not hold their peace,

because God was infinitely powerful, and the powers of hell could not prevail against Him. Thereupon they

all struggled to get at Grandier, threatening to tear him limb from limb, to point out his marks, to strangle him

although he was their master; whereupon he seized a chance to say he was neither their master nor their

servant, and that it was incredible that they should in the same breath acknowledge him for their master and

express a desire to strangle him: on hearing this, the frenzy of the nuns reached its height, and they kicked

"At length, had it not been for the help and interposition of people in the choir, the nuns in their frenzy would

have taken the life of the chief personage in this spectacle; so there was no choice but to take him away from

the church and the furies who threatened his life. He was therefore brought back to prison about six o'clock in

the evening, and the rest of the day the exorcists were employed in calming the poor sistersa task of no

Everyone did not regard the possessed sisters with the indulgent eye of the author of the above narrative, and

many saw in this terrible exhibition of hysteria and convulsions an infamous and sacrilegious orgy, at which

revenge ran riot. There was such difference of opinion about it that it was considered necessary to publish the

"All persons, of whatever rank or profession, are hereby expressly forbidden to traduce, or in any way

malign, the nuns and other persons at Loudun possessed by evil spirits; or their exorcists; or those who

accompany them either to the places appointed for exorcism or elsewhere; in any form or manner whatever,

on pain of a fine of ten thousand livres, or a larger sum and corporal punishment should the case so require;

and in order that no one may plead ignorance hereof, this proclamation will be read and published today

from the pulpits of all the churches, and copies affixed to the church doors and in other suitable public places.

This order had great influence with worldly folk, and from that moment, whether their belief was

strengthened or not, they no longer dared to express any incredulity. But in spite of that, the judges were put

to shame, for the nuns themselves began to repent; and on the day following the impious scene above

described, just as Pere Lactanee began to exorcise Sister Claire in the castle chapel, she rose, and turning

towards the congregation, while tears ran down her cheeks, said in a voice that could be heard by all present,

that she was going to speak the truth at last in the sight of Heaven. Thereupon she confessed that all that she

had said during the last fortnight against Grandier was calumnious and false, and that all her actions had been

done at the instigation of the Franciscan Pere Lactance, the director, Mignon, and the Carmelite brothers.

Pere Lactance, not in the least taken aback, declared that her confession was a fresh wile of the devil to save

her master Grandier. She then made an urgent appeal to the bishop and to M. de Laubardemont, asking to be

sequestered and placed in charge of other priests than those who had destroyed her soul, by making her bear

false witness against an innocent man; but they only laughed at the pranks the devil was playing, and ordered

her to be at once taken back to the house in which she was then living. When she heard this order, she darted

out of the choir, trying to escape through the church door, imploring those present to come to her assistance

and save her from everlasting damnation. But such terrible fruit had the proclamation borne that noon dared

respond, so she was recaptured and taken back to the house in which she was sequestered, never to leave it

The next day a still more extraordinary scene took place. While M. de Laubardemont was questioning one of

the nuns, the superior came down into the court, barefooted; in her chemise, and a cord round her neck; and

there she remained for two hours, in the midst of a fearful storm, not shrinking before lightning, thunder, or

rain, but waiting till M. de Laubardemont and the other exorcists should come out. At length the door opened

and the royal commissioner appeared, whereupon Sister Jeanne des Anges, throwing herself at his feet,

declared she had not sufficient strength to play the horrible part they had made her learn any longer, and that

before God and man she declared Urbain Grandier innocent, saying that all the hatred which she and her

companions had felt against him arose from the baffled desires which his comeliness awokedesires which

the seclusion of conventional life made still more ardent. M. de Laubardemont threatened her with the full

weight of his displeasure, but she answered, weeping bitterly, that all she now dreaded was her sin, for

though the mercy of the Saviour was great, she felt that the crime she had committed could never be

pardoned. M. de Laubardemont exclaimed that it was the demon who dwelt in her who was speaking, but she

replied that the only demon by whom she had even been possessed was the spirit of vengeance, and that it

was indulgence in her own evil thoughts, and not a pact with the devil, which had admitted him into her

With these words she withdrew slowly, still weeping, and going into the garden, attached one end of the cord

round her neck to the branch of a tree, and hanged herself. But some of the sisters who had followed her cut

The same day an order for her strict seclusion was issued for her as for Sister Claire, and the circumstances

that she was a relation of M. de Laubardemont did not avail to lessen her punishment in view of the gravity of

It was impossible to continue the exorcisms other nuns might be tempted to follow the example, of the

superior and Sister Claire, and in that case all would be lost. And besides, was not Urbain Grandier well and

duly convicted? It was announced, therefore, that the examination had proceeded far enough, and that the

This long succession of violent and irregular breaches of law procedure, the repeated denials of his claim to

justice, the refusal to let his witnesses appear, or to listen to his defence, all combined to convince Grandier

that his ruin was determined on; for the case had gone so far and had attained such publicity that it was

necessary either to punish him as a sorcerer and magician or to render a royal commissioner, a bishop, an

entire community of nuns, several monks of various orders, many judges of high reputation, and laymen of

birth and standing, liable to the penalties incurred by calumniators. But although, as this conviction grew, he

confronted it with resignation, his courage did not fail,and holding it to be his duty as a man and a

Christian to defend his life and honour to the end, he drew up and published another memorandum, headed

Reasons for Acquittal, and had copies laid before his judges. It was a weighty and, impartial summing up of

the whole case, such as a stranger might have written, and began, with these words.

"I entreat you in all humility to consider deliberately and with attention what the Psalmist says in Psalm 82,

where he exhorts judges to fulfil their charge with absolute rectitude; they being themselves mere mortals

who will one day have to appear before God, the sovereign judge of the universe, to give an account of their

administration. The Lord's Anointed speaks to you today who are sitting in judgment, and says

But this appeal, although convincing and dignified, had no influence upon the commission; and on the 18th

"We have declared, and do hereby declare, Urbain Grandier duly accused and convicted of the crimes of

magic and witchcraft, and of causing the persons of certain Ursuline nuns of this town and of other females to

become possessed of evil spirits, wherefrom other crimes and offences have resulted. By way of reparation

therefor, we have sentenced, and do hereby sentence, the said Grandier to make public apology, bareheaded,

with a cord around his neck, holding a lighted torch of two pounds weight in his hand, before the west door of

the church of SaintPierre in the Market Place and beforethat of SainteUrsule, both of this town, and

there on bended knee to ask pardon of God and the king and the law, and this done, to be taken to the public

square of SainteCroix and there to be attached to a stake, set in the midst of a pile of wood, both of which to

be prepared there for this purpose, and to be burnt alive, along with the pacts and spells which remain in the

hands of the clerk and the manuscript of the book written by the said Grandier against a celibate priesthood,

and his ashes, to be scattered to the four winds of heaven. And we have declared, and do hereby declare, all

and every part of his property confiscate to the king, the sum of one hundred and fifty livres being first taken

therefrom to be employed in the purchase of a copper plate whereon the substance of the present decree shall

be engraved, the same to be exposed in a conspicuous place in the said church of SainteUrsule, there to

remain in perpetuity; and before this sentence is carried out, we order the said Grandier to be put to the

On the morning of the day on which this sentence was passed, M. de Laubardemont ordered the surgeon

Francois Fourneau to be arrested at his own house and taken to Grandier's cell, although he was ready to go

there of his own free will. In passing through the adjoining room he heard the voice of the accused saying:

"What do you want with me, wretched executioner? Have you come to kill me? You know how cruelly you

On entering the room, Fourneau saw that these words had been addressed to the surgeon Mannouri.

One of the officers of the 'grand privot de l'hotel', to whom M. de Laubardemont lent for the occasion the title

of officer of the king's guard, ordered the new arrival to shave Grandier, and not leave a single hair on his

whole body. This was a formality employed in cases of witchcraft, so that the devil should have no place to

hide in; for it was the common belief that if a single hair were left, the devil could render the accused

insensible to the pains of torture. From this Urbain understood that the verdict had gone against him and that

Fourneau having saluted Grandier, proceeded to carry out his orders, whereupon a judge said it was not

sufficient to shave the body of the prisoner, but that his nails must also be torn out, lest the devil should hide

beneath them. Grandier looked at the speaker with an expression of unutterable pity, and held out his hands to

Fourneau; but Forneau put them gently aside, and said he would do nothing of the kind, even were the order

given by the cardinalduke himself, and at the same time begged Grandier's pardon for shaving him. At,

these words Grandier, who had for so long met with nothing but barbarous treatment from those with whom

Grandier was then shaved, but only two marks found on him, one as we have said on the shoulder blade, and

the other on the thigh. Both marks were very sensitive, the wounds which Mannouri had made not having yet

healed. This point having been certified by Fourneau, Grandier was handed, not his own clothes, but some

Then, although his sentence had been pronounced at the Carmelite convent, he was taken by the grand

provost's officer, with two of his archers, accompanied by the provosts of Loudun and Chinon, to the town

hall, where several ladies of quality, among them Madame de Laubardemont, led by curiosity, were sitting

beside the judges, waiting to hear the sentence read. M. de Laubardemont was in the seat usually occupied by

the clerk, and the clerk was standing before him. All the approaches were lined with soldiers.

Before the accused was brought in, Pere Lactance and another Franciscan who had come with him exorcised

him to oblige the devils to leave him; then entering the judgment hall, they exorcised the earth, the air, "and

At first he was kept at the far end of the hall, to allow time for the exorcisms to have their full effect, then he

was brought forward to the bar and ordered to kneel down. Grandier obeyed, but could remove neither his hat

nor his skullcap, as his hands were bound behind his back, whereupon the clerk seized on the one and the

provost's officer on the other, and flung them at de Laubardemont's feet. Seeing that the accused fixed his

eyes on the commissioner as if waiting to see what he was about to do, the clerk said

Grandier obeyed without a murmur and with great humility, and remained sunk in silent prayer for about ten

The clerk then began to read the sentence in a trembling voice, while Grandier listened with unshaken

firmness and wonderful tranquillity, although it was the most terrible sentence that could be passed,

condemning the accused to be burnt alive the same day, after the infliction of ordinary and extraordinary

torture. When the clerk had ended, Grandier said, with a voice unmoved from its usual calm

"Messeigneurs, I aver in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, and the Blessed Virgin, my

only hope, that I have never been a magician, that I have never committed sacrilege, that I know no other

magic than that of the Holy Scriptures, which I have always preached, and that I have never held any other

belief than that of our Holy Mother the Catholic Apostolic Church of Rome; I renounce the devil and all his

works; I confess my Redeemer, and I pray to be saved through the blood of the Cross; and I beseech you,

messeigneurs, to mitigate the rigour of my sentence, and not to drive my soul to despair."

The concluding words led de Laubardemont to believe that he could obtain some admission from Grandier

through fear of suffering, so he ordered the court to be cleared, and, being left alone with Maitre Houmain,

criminal lieutenant of Orleans, and the Franciscans, he addressed Grandier in a stern voice, saying there was

only one way to obtain any mitigation of his sentence, and that was to confess the names of his accomplices

and to sign the confession. Grandier replied that having committed no crime he could have no accomplices,

whereupon Laubardemont ordered the prisoner to be taken to the torture chamber, which adjoined the

The mode of torture employed at Loudun was a variety of the boot, and one of the most painful of all. Each

of the victim's legs below the knee was placed between two boards, the two pairs were then laid one above

the other and bound together firmly at the ends; wedges were then driven in with a mallet between the two

middle boards; four such wedges constituted ordinary and eight extraordinary torture; and this latter was

seldom inflicted, except on those condemned to death, as almost no one ever survived it, the sufferer's legs

being crushed to a pulp before he left the torturer's bands. In this case M. de Laubardemont on his own

initiative, for it had never been done before, added two wedges to those of the extraordinary torture, so that

Nor was this all: the commissioner royal and the two Franciscans undertook to inflict the torture themselves.

Laubardemont ordered Grandier to be bound in the usual manner, I and then saw his legs placed between the

boards. He then dismissed the executioner and his assistants, and directed the keeper of the instruments to

bring the wedges, which he complained of as being too small. Unluckily, there were no larger ones in stock,

and in spite of threats the keeper persisted in saying he did not know where to procure others. M. de

Laubardemont then asked how long it would take to make some, and was told two hours; finding that too

Thereupon the torture began. Pere Lactance having exorcised the instruments, drove in the first wedge, but

could not draw a murmur from Grandier, who was reciting a prayer in a low voice; a second was driven

home, and this time the victim, despite his resolution, could not avoid interrupting his devotions by two

groans, at each of which Pere Lactance struck harder, crying, "Dicas! dicas!" (Confess, confess!), a word

which he repeated so often and so furiously, till all was over, that he was ever after popularly called " Pere

When the second wedge was in, de Laubardemont showed Grandier his manuscript against the celibacy of the

priests, and asked if he acknowledged it to be in his own handwriting. Grandier answered in the affirmative.

Asked what motive he had in writing it, he said it was an attempt to restore peace of mind to a poor girl

"Si ton gentil esprit prend bien cette science, Tu mettras en repos ta bonne conscience."

[If thy sensitive mind imbibe this teaching, It will give ease to thy tender conscience]

Upon this, M. de Laubardemont demanded the girl's name; but Grandier assured him it should never pass his

lips, none knowing it but himself and God. Thereupon M. de Laubardemont ordered Pere Lactance to insert

the third wedge. While it was being driven in by the monk's lusty arm, each blow being accompanied by the

"My God! they are killing me, and yet I am neither a sorcerer nor sacrilegious!"

Although his victim was unconscious, Pere Lactance continued to strike; so that, having lost consciousness

De Laubardemont took advantage of this revival to take his turn at demanding a confession of his crimes; but

"I have committed no crimes, sir, only errors. Being a man, I have often gone astray; but I have confessed and

done penance, and believe that my prayers for pardon have been heard; but if not, I trust that God will grant

At the fifth wedge Grandier fainted once more, but they restored him to consciousness by dashing cold water

"In pity, sir, put me to death at once! I am only a man, and I cannot answer for myself that if you continue to

"Then sign this, and the torture shall cease," answered the commissioner royal, offering him a paper.

"My father," said Urbain, turning towards the Franciscan, "can you assure me on your conscience that it is

permissible for a man, in order to escape suffering, to confess a crime he has never committed?"

"No," replied the monk; "for if he die with a lie on his lips he dies in mortal sin."

"Go on, then," said Grandier; "for having suffered so much in my body, I desire to save my soul."

When he had been revived, Laubardemont called upon him to confess that a certain Elisabeth Blanchard had

been his mistress, as well as the girl for whom he had written the treatise against celibacy; but Grandier

replied that not only had no improper relations ever existed between them, but that the day he had been

At the seventh wedge Grandier's legs burst open, and the blood spurted into Pere Lactance's face; but he

"O Lord my God, have mercy on me! I die!" cried Grandier, and fainted for the fourth time. Pere Lactance

When Grandier had once more come to himself, he began slowly to utter a prayer, so beautiful and so moving

that the provost's lieutenant wrote it down; but de Laubardemont noticing this, forbade him ever to show it to

At the eighth wedge the bones gave way, and the marrow oozed out of the wounds, and it became useless to

drive in any more wedges, the legs being now as flat as the boards that compressed them, and moreover Pere

Grandier was unbound and laid upon the flagged floor, and while his eyes shone with fever and agony he

prayed again a second prayera veritable martyr's prayer, overflowing with faith and enthusiasm; but as he

ended his strength failed, and he again became unconscious. The provost's lieutenant forced a little wine

between his lips, which brought him to; then he made an act of contrition, renounced Satan and all his works

Four men entered, his legs were freed from the boards, and the crushed parts were found to be a mere inert

mass, only attached to the knees by the sinews. He was then carried to the council chamber, and laid on a

In a corner of the fireplace an Augustinian monk was seated. Urbain asked leave to confess to him, which de

Laubardemont refused, holding out the paper he desired to have signed once more, at which Grandier said

"If I would not sign to spare myself before, am I likely to give way now that only death remains?"

"True," replied Laubardemont; "but the mode of your death is in our hands: it rests with us to make it slow or

Grandier pushed the paper gently away, shaking his head in sign of refusal, whereupon de Laubardemont left

the room in a fury, and ordered Peres Tranquille and Claude to be admitted, they being the confessors he had

chosen for Urbain. When they came near to fulfil their office, Urbain recognised in them two of his torturers,

so he said that, as it was only four days since he had confessed to Pere Grillau, and he did not believe he had

committed any mortal sin since then, he would not trouble them, upon which they cried out at him as a

At four o'clock the executioner's assistants came to fetch him; he was placed lying on a bier and carried out in

that position. On the way he met the criminal lieutenant of Orleans, who once more exhorted him to confess

A lighted torch was then placed in his hand: as the procession started he pressed the torch to his lips; he

looked on all whom he met with modest confidence, and begged those whom he knew to intercede with God

for him. On the threshold of the door his sentence was read to him, and he was then placed in a small cart and

driven to the church of St. Pierre in the marketplace. There he was awaited by M. de Laubardemont, who

ordered him to alight. As he could not stand on his mangled limbs, he was pushed out, and fell first on his

knees and then on his face. In this position he remained patiently waiting to be lifted. He was carried to the

top of the steps and laid down, while his sentence was read to him once more, and just as it was finished, his

confessor, who had not been allowed to see him for four days, forced a way through the crowd and threw

himself into Grandier's arms. At first tears choked Pere Grillau's voice, but at last he said, "Remember, sir,

that our Saviour Jesus Christ ascended to His Father through the agony of the Cross: you are a wise man, do

not give way now and lose everything. I bring you your mother's blessing; she and I never cease to pray that

These words seemed to inspire Grandier with new strength; he lifted his head, which pain had bowed, and

raising his eyes to heaven, murmured a short prayer. Then turning towards the worthy, friar, he said

"Be a son to my mother; pray to God for me constantly; ask all our good friars to pray for my soul; my one

consolation is that I die innocent. I trust that God in His mercy may receive me into Paradise."

"Alas, my father!" replied Grandier, "I am condemned to die a most cruel death; ask the executioner if there

"I go at once," said the friar; and giving him absolution in 'articulo mortis', he went down the steps, and while

Grandier was making his confession aloud the good monk drew the executioner aside and asked if there were

no possibility of alleviating the deathagony by means of a shirt dipped in brimstone. The executioner

answered that as the sentence expressly stated that Grandier was to be burnt alive, he could not employ an

expedient so sure to be discovered as that; but that if the friar would give him thirty crowns he would

undertake to strangle Grandier while he was kindling the pile. Pere Grillau gave him the money, and the

executioner provided himself with a rope. The Franciscan then placed himself where he could speak to his

penitent as he passed, and as he embraced him for the last time, whispered to him what he had arranged with

the executioner, whereupon Grandier turned towards the latter and said in a tone of deep gratitude

At that moment, the archers having driven away Pere Grillau, by order of M. de Laubardemont, by beating

him with their halberts, the procession resumed its march, to go through the same ceremony at the Ursuline

church, and from there to proceed to the square of Sainte Croix. On the way Urbain met and recognised

"I die your debtor, and if I have ever said a word that could offend you I ask you to forgive me."

When the place of execution was reached, the provost's lieutenant approached Grandier and asked his

"You have not offended me," was the reply; "you have only done what your duty obliged you to do."

The executioner then came forward and removed the back board of the cart, and ordered his assistants to

carry Grandier to where the pile was prepared. As he was unable to stand, he was attached to the stake by an

iron hoop passed round his body. At that moment a flock of pigeons seemed to fall from the sky, and, fearless

of the crowd, which was so great that the archers could not succeed even by blows of their weapons in

clearing a way for the magistrates, began to fly around Grandier, while one, as white as the driven snow,

alighted on the summit of the stake, just above his head. Those who believed in possession exclaimed that

they were only a band of devils come to seek their master, but there were many who muttered that devils

were not wont to assume such a form, and who persisted in believing that the doves had come in default of

In trying next day to combat this impression, a monk asserted that he had seen a huge fly buzzing round

Grandier's head, and as Beelzebub meant in Hebrew, as he said, the god of flies, it was quite evident that it

was that demon himself who, taking upon him the form of one of his subjects, had come to carry off the

When everything was prepared, the executioner passed the rope by which he meant to strangle him round

Grandier's neck; then the priests exorcised the earth, air, and wood, and again demanded of their victim if he

would not publicly confess his crimes. Urbain replied that he had nothing to say, but that he hoped through

The clerk then read his sentence to him for the fourth time, and asked if he persisted in what he said under

Upon this, the clerk withdrew, first informing Grandier that if he had anything to say to the people he was at

But this was just what the exorcists did not want: they knew Grandier's eloquence and courage, and a firm,

unshaken denial at the moment of death would be most prejudicial to their interests. As soon, therefore, as

Grandier opened his lips to speak, they dashed such a quantity of holy water in his face that it took away his

breath. It was but for a moment, however, and he recovered himself, and again endeavoured to speak, a monk

stooped down and stifled the words by kissing him on the lips. Grandier, guessing his intention, said loud

At these words the monks become so enraged that one of them struck Grandier three times in the face with a

crucifix, while he appeared to be giving it him to kiss; but by the blood that flowed from his nose and lips at

the third blow those standing near perceived the truth: all Grandier could do was to call out that he asked for a

Salve Regina and an Ave Maria, which many began at once to repeat, whilst he with clasped hands and eyes

raised to heaven commended himself to God and the Virgin. The exorcists then made one more effort to get

At this refusal the anger of the exorcists surpassed all bounds, and Pere Lactance, taking a twist of straw,

dipped it in a bucket of pitch which was standing beside the pile, and lighting it at a torch, thrust it into his

"Miserable wretch! will nothing force you to confess your crimes and renounce the devil?"

"I do not belong to the devil," said Grandier, pushing away the straw with his hands; "I have renounced the

devil, I now renounce him and all his works again, and I pray that God may have mercy on me."

At this, without waiting for the signal from the provost's lieutenant, Pere Lactance poured the bucket of pitch

on one corner of the pile of wood and set fire to it, upon which Grandier called the executioner to his aid,

who, hastening up, tried in vain to strangle him, while the flames spread apace.

"It's not my fault," answered the executioner; "the monks have knotted the cord, so that the noose cannot

The executioner by this time was forced by the increasing heat to jump down from the pile, being indeed

almost overcome; and seeing this, Grandier stretched forth a hand into the flames, and said

"Pere Lactance, God in heaven will judge between thee and me; I summon thee to appear before Him in thirty

Grandier was then seen to make attempts to strangle himself, but either because it was impossible, or because

he felt it would be wrong to end his life by his own hands, he desisted, and clasping his hands, prayed

A Capuchin fearing that he would have time to say more, approached the pile from the side which had not yet

caught fire, and dashed the remainder of the holy water in his face. This caused such smoke that Grandier was

hidden for a moment from the eyes of the spectators; when it cleared away, it was seen that his clothes were

now alight; his voice could still be heard from the midst of the flames raised in prayer; then three times, each

time in a weaker voice, he pronounced the name of Jesus, and giving one cry, his head fell forward on his

At that moment the pigeons which had till then never ceased to circle round the stake, flew away, and were

This time it was not the man who was executed who was guilty, but the executioners; consequently we feel

Pere Lactance died in the most terrible agony on September 18th, 1634, exactly a month from the date of

Grandier's death. His brothermonks considered that this was due to the vengeance of Satan; but others were

not wanting who said, remembering the summons uttered by Grandier, that it was rather due to the justice of

God. Several attendant circumstances seemed to favour the latter opinion. The author of the History of the

Devils of Loudzin gives an account of one of these circumstances, for the authenticity of which he vouches,

"Some days after the execution of Grandier, Pere Lactance fell ill of the disease of which he died. Feeling

that it was of supernatural origin, he determined to take a pilgrimage to Notre Dame des Andilliers de

Saumur, where many miracles were wrought, and which was held in high estimation in the neighbourhood. A

place in the carriage of the Sieur de Canaye was offered him for the journey; for this gentleman, accompanied

by a large party on pleasure bent, was just then setting out for his estate of Grand Fonds, which lay in the

same direction. The reason for the offer was that Canaye and his friends, having heard that the last words of

Grandier had affected Pere Lactance's mind, expected to find a great deal of amusement in exciting the terrors

of their travellingcompanion. And in truth, for a day or two, the boon companions sharpened their wits at

the expense of the worthy monk, when all at once, on a good road and without apparent cause, the carriage

overturned. Though no one was hurt, the accident appeared so strange to the pleasureseekers that it put an

end to the jokes of even the boldest among them. Pere Lactance himself appeared melancholy and

preoccupied, and that evening at supper refused to eat, repeating over and over again

"'It was wrong of me to deny Grandier the confessor he asked for; God is punishing me, God is punishing

"On the following morning the journey was resumed, but the evident distress of mind under which Pere

Lactance laboured had so damped the spirits of the party that all their gaiety had disappeared. Suddenly, just

outside Fenet, where the road was in excellent condition and no obstacle to their progress apparent, the

carriage upset for the second time. Although again no one was hurt, the travellers felt that there was among

them someone against whom God's anger was turned, and their suspicions pointing to Pere Lactance, they

went on their way, leaving him behind, and feeling very uncomfortable at the thought that they had spent two

Pere Lactance at last reached NotreDame des Andilliers; but however numerous were the miracles there

performed, the remission of the doom pronounced by the martyr on Pere Lactance was not added to their

number; and at a quarterpast six on September 18th, exactly a month to the very minute after Grandier's

Pere Tranquille's turn came four years later. The malady which attacked him was so extraordinary that the

physicians were quite at a loss, and forced to declare their ignorance of any remedy. His shrieks and

blasphemies were so distinctly heard in the streets, that his brother Franciscans, fearing the effect they would

have on his afterreputation, especially in the minds of those who had seen Grandier die with words of prayer

on his lips, spread abroad the report that the devils whom he had expelled from the bodies of the nuns had

"My God! how I suffer! Not all the devils and all the damned together endure what I endure!" His panegyrist,

in whose book we find all the horrible details of his death employed to much purpose to illustrate the

"Truly big generous heart must have been a hot hell for those fiends who entered his body to torment it."

The following epitaph which was placed over his grave was interpreted, according to the prepossessions of

those who read it, either as a testimony to his sanctity or as a proof of his punishment:

"Here lies Pere Tranquille, of SaintRemi; a humble Capuchin preacher. The demons no longer able to

endure his fearlessly exercised power as an exorcist, and encouraged by sorcerers, tortured him to death, on

But a death about which there could be no doubt as to the cause was that of the surgeon Mannouri, the same

who had, as the reader may recollect, been the first to torture Grandier. One evening about ten o'clock he was

returning from a visit to a patient who lived on the outskirts of the town, accompanied by a colleague and

preceded by his surgery attendant carrying a lantern. When they reached the centre of the town in the rue

GrandPave, which passes between the walls of the castle grounds and the gardens of the Franciscan

monastery, Mannouri suddenly stopped, and, staring fixedly at some object which was invisible to his

He pointed in the direction towards which his eyes were turned, and beginning to tremble violently, asked

Immediately it seemed as if the vision vanished from before his eyes, but the effect remained. His

brothersurgeon and the servant brought him home, but neither candles nor the light of day could allay his

fears; his disordered brain showed him Grandier ever standing at the foot of his bed. A whole week he

continued, as was known all over the town, in this condition of abject terror; then the spectre seemed to move

from its place and gradually to draw nearer, for he kept on repeating, "He is coming! he is coming!" and at

length, towards evening, at about the same hour at which Grandier expired, Surgeon Mannouri drew his last

We have still to tell of M. de Laubardemont. All we know is thus related in the letters of M. de Patin:

"On the 9th inst., at nine o'clock in the evening, a carriage was attacked by robbers; on hearing the noise the

townspeople ran to the spot, drawn thither as much by curiosity as by humanity. A few shots were exchanged

and the robbers put to flight, with the exception of one man belonging to their band who was taken prisoner,

and another who lay wounded on the pavingstones. This latter died next day without having spoken, and left

no clue behind as to who he was. His identity was, however, at length made clear. He was the son of a high

dignitary named de Laubardemont, who in 1634, as royal commissioner, condemned Urbain Grandier, a poor,

priest of Loudun, to be burnt alive, under the pretence that he had caused several nuns of Loudun to be

possessed by devils. These nuns he had so tutored as to their behaviour that many people foolishly believed

them to be demoniacs. May we not regard the fate of his son as a chastisement inflicted by Heaven on this

unjust judgean expiation exacted for the pitilessly cruel death inflicted on his victim, whose blood still

Naturally the persecution of Urbain Grandier attracted the attention not only of journalists but of poets.

Among the many poems which were inspired by it, the following is one of the best. Urbain speaks:

If our readers, tempted by the Italian proverb about seeing Naples and then dying, were to ask us what is the

most favourable moment for visiting the enchanted city, we should advise them to land at the mole, or at

Mergellina, on a fine summer day and at the hour when some solemn procession is moving out of the

cathedral. Nothing can give an idea of the profound and simplehearted emotion of this populace, which has

enough poetry in its soul to believe in its own happiness. The whole town adorns herself and attires herself

like a bride for her wedding; the dark facades of marble and granite disappear beneath hangings of silk and

festoons of flowers; the wealthy display their dazzling luxury, the poor drape themselves proudly in their

rags. Everything is light, harmony, and perfume; the sound is like the hum of an immense hive, interrupted by

a thousandfold outcry of joy impossible to describe. The bells repeat their sonorous sequences in every key;

the arcades echo afar with the triumphal marches of military bands; the sellers of sherbet and watermelons

sing out their deafening flourish from throats of copper. People form into groups; they meet, question,

gesticulate; there are gleaming looks, eloquent gestures, picturesque attitudes; there is a general animation, an

unknown charm, an indefinable intoxication. Earth is very near to heaven, and it is easy to understand that, if

God were to banish death from this delightful spot, the Neapolitans would desire no other paradise.

The story that we are about to tell opens with one of these magical pictures. It was the Day of the Assumption

in the year 1825; the sun had been up some four or five hours, and the long Via da Forcella, lighted from end

to end by its slanting rays, cut the town in two, like a ribbon of watered silk. The lava pavement, carefully

cleaned, shone like any mosaic, and the royal troops, with their proudly waving plumes, made a double living

hedge on each side of the street. The balconies, windows, and terraces, the stands with their unsubstantial

balustrades, and the wooden galleries set up during the night, were loaded with spectators, and looked not

unlike the boxes of a theatre. An immense crowd, forming a medley of the brightest colours, invaded the

reserved space and broke through the military barriers, here and there, like an overflowing torrent. These

intrepid sightseers, nailed to their places, would have waited half their lives without giving the least sign of

At last, about noon, a cannonshot was heard, and a cry of general satisfaction followed it. It was the signal

that the procession had crossed the threshold of the church. In the same moment a charge of carabineers

swept off the people who were obstructing the middle of the street, the regiments of the line opened

floodgates for the overflowing crowd, and soon nothing remained on the causeway but some scared dog,

shouted at by the people, hunted off by the soldiers, and fleeing at full speed. The procession came out

through the Via di Vescovato. First came the guilds of merchants and craftsmen, the hatters, weavers, bakers,

butchers, cutlers, and goldsmiths. They wore the prescribed dress: black coats, knee breeches, low shoes and

silver buckles. As the countenances of these gentlemen offered nothing very interesting to the multitude,

whisperings arose, little by little, among the spectators, then some bold spirits ventured a jest or two upon the

fattest or the baldest of the townsmen, and at last the boldest of the lazzaroni slipped between the soldiers'

After the craftsmen, the religious orders marched past, from the Dominicans to the Carthusians, from the

Carmelites to the Capuchins. They advanced slowly, their eyes cast down, their step austere, their hands on

their hearts; some faces were rubicund and shining, with large cheekhones and rounded chins, herculean

heads upon bullnecks; some, thin and livid, with cheeks hollowed by suffering and penitence, and with the

At this moment, Nunziata and Gelsomina, two charming damsels, taking advantage of an old corporal's

politeness, pushed forward their pretty heads into the first rank. The break in the line was conspicuous; but

While the two cousins were pouring out endless comments upon the Capuchins and their beards, the capes of

the canons and the surplices of the seminarists, the 'feroci' came running across from the other side to

"By the blood of my patron saint," cried a stentorian voice, "if I catch you between my finger and thumb, I

"With this accursed hunchback, who has been worrying my back for the last hour, as though he could see

"It is a shame," returned the hunchback in a tone of lamentation; "I have been here since last night, I slept out

of doors to keep my place, and here is this abominable giant comes to stick himself in front of me like an

The hunchback was lying like a Jew, but the crowd rose unanimously against the obelisk. He was, in one

This revival of curiosity expressing itself in invectives evidently betokened the crisis of the show. And indeed

the chapters of canons, the clergy and bishops, the pages and chamberlains, the representatives of the city,

and the gentlemen of the king's chamber now appeared, and finally the king himself, who, bareheaded and

carrying a taper, followed the magnificent statue of the Virgin. The contrast was striking: after the

greyheaded monks and pale novices came brilliant young captains, affronting heaven with the points of their

moustaches, riddling the latticed windows with killing glances, following the procession in an absentminded

way, and interrupting the holy hymns with scraps of most unorthodox conversation.

"Did you notice, my dear Doria, how like a monkey the old Marchesa d'Acquasparta takes her raspberry ice?"

The officer's profane allusion was lost in the prolonged murmur of admiration that suddenly rose from the

crowd, and every gaze was turned upon one of the young girls who was strewing flowers before the holy

Madonna. She was an exquisite creature. Her head glowing in the sun shine, her feet hidden amid roses and

broomblossom, she rose, tall and fair, from a pale cloud of incense, like some seraphic apparition. Her hair,

of velvet blackness, fell in curls halfway down her shoulders; her brow, white as alabaster and polished as a

mirror, reflected the rays of the sun; her beautiful and finely arched black eyebrows melted into the opal of

her temples; her eyelids were fast down, and the curled black fringe of lashes veiled a glowing and liquid

glance of divine emotion; the nose, straight, slender, and cut by two easy nostrils, gave to her profile that

character of antique beauty which is vanishing day by day from the earth. A calm and serene smile, one of

those smiles that have already left the soul and not yet reached the lips, lifted the corners of her mouth with a

pure expression of infinite beatitude and gentleness. Nothing could be more perfect than the chin that

completed the faultless oval of this radiant countenance; her neck of a dead white, joined her bosom in a

delicious curve, and supported her head gracefully like the stalk of a flower moved by a gentle breeze. A

bodice of crimson velvet spotted with gold outlined her delicate and finely curved figure, and held in by

means of a handsome gold lace the countless folds of a full and flowing skirt, that fell to her feet like those

severe robes in which the Byzantine painters preferred to drape their angels. She was indeed a marvel, and so

Among those who had gazed most persistently at her was observed the young Prince of Brancaleone, one of

the foremost nobles of the kingdom. Handsome, rich, and brave, he had, at fiveandtwenty, outdone the lists

of all known Don Juans. Fashionable young women spoke very ill of him and adored him in secret; the most

virtuous made it their rule to fly from him, so impossible did resistance appear. All the young madcaps had

chosen him for their model; for his triumphs robbed many a Miltiades of sleep, and with better cause. In

short, to get an idea of this lucky individual, it will be enough to know that as a seducer he was the most

perfect thing that the devil had succeeded in inventing in this progressive century. The prince was dressed out

for the occasion in a sufficiently grotesque costume, which he wore with ironic gravity and cavalier ease. A

black satin doublet, knee breeches, embroidered stockings, and shoes with gold buckles, formed the main

portions of his dress, over which trailed a long brocaded opensleeved robe lined with ermine, and a

magnificent diamondhilted sword. On account of his rank he enjoyed the rare distinction of carrying one of

As soon as the procession moved on again, Eligi of Brancaleone gave a side glance to a little man as red as a

lobster, who was walking almost at his side, and carrying in his right hand, with all the solemnity that he

could muster, his excellency's hat. He was a footman in goldlaced livery, and we beg leave to give a brief

sketch of his history. Trespolo was the child of poor but thieving parents, and on that account was early left

an orphan. Being at leisure, he studied life from an eminently social aspect. If we are to believe a certain

ancient sage, we are all in the world to solve a problem: as to Trespolo, he desired to live without doing

anything; that was his problem. He was, in turn, a sacristan, a juggler, an apothecary's assistant, and a

cicerone, and he got tired of all these callings. Begging was, to his mind, too hard work, and it was more

trouble to be a thief than to be an honest man. Finally he decided in favour of contemplative philosophy. He

had a passionate preference for the horizontal position, and found the greatest pleasure in the world in

watching the shooting of stars. Unfortunately, in the course of his meditations this deserving man came near

to dying of hunger; which would have been a great pity, for he was beginning to accustom himself not to eat

anything. But as he was predestined by nature to play a small part in our story, God showed him grace for

that time, and sent to his assistancenot one of His angels, the rogue was not worthy of that, butone of

Brancaleone's hunting dogs. The noble animal sniffed round the philosopher, and uttered a little charitable

growl that would have done credit to one of the brethren of Mount St. Bernard. The prince, who was

returning in triumph from hunting, and who, by good luck, had that day killed a bear and ruined a countess,

had an odd inclination to do a good deed. He approached the plebeian who was about to pass into the

condition of a corpse, stirred the thing with his foot, and seeing that there was still a little hope, bade his

>From that day onward, Trespolo saw the dream of his life nearly realised. Something rather above a

footman and rather below a house steward, he became the confidant of his master, who found his talents most

useful; for this Trespolo was as sharp as a demon and almost as artful as a woman. The prince, who, like an

intelligent man as he was, had divined that genius is naturally indolent, asked nothing of him but advice;

when tiresome people wanted thrashing, he saw to that matter himself, and, indeed, he was the equal of any

two at such work. As nothing in this lower world, however, is complete, Trespolo had strange moments amid

this life of delights; from time to time his happiness was disturbed by panics that greatly diverted his master;

he would mutter incoherent words, stifle violent sighs, and lose his appetite. The root of the matter was that

the poor fellow was afraid of going to hell. The matter was very simple: he was afraid of everything; and,

besides, it had often been preached to him that the Devil never allowed a moment's rest to those who were

illadvised enough to fall into his clutches. Trespolo was in one of his good moods of repentance, when the

prince, after gazing on the young girl with the fierce eagerness of a vulture about to swoop upon its prey,

turned to speak to his intimate adviser. The poor servant understood his master's abominable design, and not

wishing to share the guilt of a sacrilegious conversation, opened his eyes very wide and turned them up to

heaven in ecstatic contemplation. The prince coughed, stamped his foot, moved his sword so as to hit

Trespolo's legs, but could not get from him any sign of attention, so absorbed did he appear in celestial

thoughts. Brancaleone would have liked to wring his neck, but both his hands were occupied by the staff of

At last they were drawing nearer to the church of St. Clara, where the Neapolitan kings were buried, and

where several princesses of the blood, exchanging the crown for the veil, have gone to bury themselves alive.

The nuns, novices, and abbess, hidden behind shutters, were throwing flowers upon the procession. A bunch

"Trespolo, pick up that nosegay," said the prince, so audibly that his servant had no further excuse. "It is from

Sister Theresa," he added, in a low voice; "constancy is only to be found, nowadays, in a convent."

Trespolo picked up the nosegay and came towards his master, looking like a man who was being strangled.

"Then you do know her, you intolerable rascal! I have half a mind to have you hanged like a dog."

"For pity's sake, my lord, think of the salvation of your soul, of your eternal life."

"She is called Nisida, and is the prettiest girl in the island that she is named after. She is innocence itself. Her

father is only a poor fisherman, but I can assure your excellency that in his island he is respected like a king."

"Indeed!" replied the prince, with an ironical smile. "I must own, to my great shame, that I have never visited

the little island of Nisida. You will have a boat ready for me tomorrow, and then we will see."

He interrupted himself suddenly, for the king was looking at him; and calling up the most sonorous bass

notes that he could find in the depths of his throat, he continued with an inspired air, "Genitori genitoque laus

Nisida, the beloved daughter of Solomon, the fisherman, was, as we have said, the loveliest flower of the

island from which she derived her name. That island is the most charming spot, the most delicious nook with

which we are acquainted; it is a basket of greenery set delicately amid the pure and transparent waters of the

gulf, a hill wooded with orange trees and oleanders, and crowned at the summit by a marble castle. All

around extends the fairylike prospect of that immense amphitheatre, one of the mightiest wonders of

creation. There lies Naples, the voluptuous syren, reclining carelessly on the seashore; there, Portici,

Castellamare, and Sorrento, the very names of which awaken in the imagination a thousand thoughts of

poetry and love; there are Pausilippo, Baiae, Puozzoli, and those vast plains, where the ancients fancied their

Elysium, sacred solitudes which one might suppose peopled by the men of former days, where the earth

echoes under foot like an empty grave, and the air has unknown sounds and strange melodies.

Solomon's hut stood in that part of the island which, turning its back to the capital, beholds afar the blue

crests of Capri. Nothing could be simpler or brighter. The brick walls were hung with ivy greener than

emeralds, and enamelled with white bellflowers; on the ground floor was a fairly spacious apartment, in

which the men slept and the family took their meals; on the floor above was Nisida's little maidenly room,

full of coolness, shadows, and mystery, and lighted by a single casement that looked over the gulf; above this

room was a terrace of the Italian kind, the four pillars of which were wreathed with vine branches, while its

vineclad arbour and wide parapet were overgrown with moss and wild flowers. A little hedge of hawthorn,

which had been respected for ages, made a kind of rampart around the fisherman's premises, and defended his

house better than deep moats and castellated walls could have done. The boldest roisterers of the place would

have preferred to fight before the parsonage and in the precincts of the church rather than in front of

Solomon's little enclosure. Otherwise, this was the meeting place of the whole island. Every evening,

precisely at the same hour, the good women of the neighbourhood came to knit their woollen caps and tell the

news. Groups of little children, naked, brown, and as mischievous as little imps, sported about, rolling on the

grass and throwing handfuls of sand into the other's eyes, heedless of the risk of blinding, while their mothers

were engrossed in that grave gossip which marks the dwellers in villages. These gatherings occurred daily

before the fisherman's house; they formed a tacit and almost involuntary homage, consecrated by custom, and

of which no one had ever taken special account; the envy that rules in small communities would soon have

suppressed them. The influence which old Solomon had over his equals had grown so simply and naturally,

that no one found any fault with it, and it had only attracted notice when everyone was benefiting by it, like

those fine trees whose growth is only observed when we profit by their shade. If any dispute arose in the

island, the two opponents preferred to abide by the judgment of the fisherman instead of going before the

court; he was fortunate enough or clever enough to send away both parties satisfied. He knew what remedies

to prescribe better than any physician, for it seldom happened that he or his had not felt the same ailments,

and his knowledge, founded on personal experience, produced the most excellent results. Moreover, he had

no interest, as ordinary doctors have, in prolonging illnesses. For many years past the only formality

recognised as a guarantee for the inviolability of a contract had been the intervention of the fisherman. Each

party shook hands with Solomon, and the thing was done. They would rather have thrown themselves into

Vesuvius at the moment of its most violent eruption than have broken so solemn an agreement. At the period

when our story opens, it was impossible to find any person in the island who had not felt the effects of the

fisherman's generosity, and that without needing to confess to him any necessities. As it was the custom for

the little populace of Nisida to spend its leisure hours before Solomon's cottage, the old man, while he walked

slowly among the different groups, humming his favourite song, discovered moral and physical weaknesses

as he passed ; and the same evening he or his daughter would certainly be seen coming mysteriously to

bestow a benefit upon every sufferer, to lay a balm upon every wound. In short, he united in his person all

those occupations whose business is to help mankind. Lawyers, doctors, and the notary, all the vultures of

civilisation, had beaten a retreat before the patriarchal benevolence of the fisherman. Even the priest had

On the morrow of the Feast of the Assumption, Solomon was sitting, as his habit was, on a stone bench in

front of his house, his legs crossed and his arms carelessly stretched out. At the first glance you would have

taken him for sixty at the outside, though he was really over eighty. He had all his teeth, which were as white

as pearls, and showed them proudly. His brow, calm and restful beneath its crown of abundant white hair,

was as firm and polished as marble; not a wrinkle ruffled the corner of his eye, and the gemlike lustre of his

blue orbs revealed a freshness of soul and an eternal youth such as fable grants to the seagods. He displayed

his bare arms and muscular neck with an old man's vanity. Never had a gloomy idea, an evil prepossession, or

a keen remorse, arisen to disturb his long and peaceful life. He had never seen a tear flow near him without

hurrying to wipe it; poor though he was, he had succeeded in pouring out benefits that all the kings of the

earth could not have bought with their gold; ignorant though he was, he had spoken to his fellows the only

language that they could understand, the language of the heart. One single drop of bitterness had mingled

with his inexhaustible stream of happiness; one grief only had clouded his sunny lifethe death of his

All the affections of his soul were turned upon Nisida, whose birth had caused her mother's death; he loved

her with that immoderate love that old people have for the youngest of their children. At the present moment

he was gazing upon her with an air of profound rapture, and watching her come and go, as she now joined the

groups of children and scolded them for games too dangerous or too noisy; now seated herself on the grass

beside their mothers and took part with grave and thoughtful interest in their talk. Nisida was more beautiful

thus than she had been the day before; with the vaporous cloud of perfume that had folded her round from

head to foot had disappeared all that mystic poetry which put a sort of constraint upon her admirers and

obliged them to lower their glances. She had become a daughter of Eve again without losing anything of her

charm. Simply dressed, as she usually was on workdays, she was distinguishable among her companions

only by her amazing beauty and by the dazzling whiteness of her skin. Her beautiful black hair was twisted in

plaits around the little dagger of chased silver, that has lately been imported into Paris by that right of

conquest which the pretty women of Paris have over the fashions of all countries, like the English over the

Nisida was adored by her young friends, all the mothers had adopted her with pride; she was the glory of the

island. The opinion of her superiority was shared by everyone to such a degree, that if some bold young man,

forgetting the distance which divided him from the maiden, dared speak a little too loudly of his pretensions,

he became the laughingstock of his companions. Even the past masters of tarentella dancing were out of

countenance before the daughter of Solomon, and did not dare to seek her as a partner. Only a few singers

from Amalfi or Sorrento, attracted by the rare beauty of this angelic creature, ventured to sigh out their

passion, carefully veiled beneath the most delicate allusions. But they seldom reached the last verse of their

song; at every sound they stopped short, threw down their triangles and their mandolines, and took flight like

One only had courage enough or passion enough to brave the mockery; this was Bastiano, the most

formidable diver of that coast. He also sang, but with a deep and hollow voice; his chant was mournful and

his melodies full of sadness. He never accompanied himself upon any instrument, and never retired without

concluding his song. That day he was gloomier than usual; he was standing upright, as though by

enchantment, upon a bare and slippery rock, and he cast scornful glances upon the women who were looking

at him and laughing. The sun, which was plunging into the sea like a globe of fire, shed its light full upon his

stern features, and the evening breeze, as it lightly rippled the billows, set the fluttering reeds waving at his

feet. Absorbed by dark thoughts, he sang, in the musical language of his country, these sad words:

"O window, that wert used to shine in the night like an open eye, how dark thou art! Alas, alas! my poor

"Her mother, all in tears, stoops towards me and says, 'Thy poor sister is dead and buried.'

"She had a burning thirst, and refused to drink because thou wast not there to give her water from thy hand.

"We placed on her brow her wreath of orangeflowers, we covered her with a veil as white as snow; we laid

"Two angels came down from heaven and bore her away on their wings. Mary Magdalene came to meet her

"There, she was seated in a place of glory, a chaplet of rubies was given to her, and she is singing her rosary

As he finished the last words of his melancholy refrain, he flung himself from the top of his rock into the sea,

as though he really desired to engulf himself. Nisida and the other women gave a cry of terror, for during

"Are you out of your senses?" cried a young man who had suddenly appeared, unobserved among the

women. "Why, what are you afraid of? You know very well that Bastiano is always doing things of this sort.

But do not be alarmed: all the fishes in the Mediterranean will be drowned before any harm comes to him.

The young fisherman kissed Nisida on the forehead, drew near to his father, and, bowing his handsome head

before him, took off his red cap and respectfully kissed the old man's hand. He came thus to ask his blessing

every evening before putting out to sea, where he often spent the night fishing from his boat.

"May God bless thee, my Gabriel!" said the old man in a tone of emotion, as he slowly passed his hand over

his son's black curls, and a tear came into his eye. Then, rising solemnly and addressing the groups around

him, he added in a voice full of dignity and of gentleness. "Come, my children, it is time to separate. The

Everybody knelt, and after a short prayer each went on his way. Nisida, after having given her father the last

daily attentions, went up to her room, replenished the oil in the lamp that burned day and night before the

Virgin, and, leaning her elbow on the window ledge, divided the branches of jasmine which hung like

perfumed curtains, began to gaze out at the sea, and seemed lost in a deep, sweet reverie.

At this very time, a little boat, rowed silently by two oarsmen, touched shore on the other side of the island. It

had become quite dark. A little man first landed cautiously, and respectfully offered his hand to another

"I flatter myself I am. It is true that, in order to make the transformation complete, I chose the very oldest coat

"Your lordship looks like a heathen god engaged in a love affair. Jupiter has sheathed his thunderbolts and

"A truce to your mythology. And, to begin with, I forbid you to call me ' your lordship.'"

"If my information that I have procured during the day is correct, the house must be on the other side of the

island, in a most remote and lonely spot. Walk at a certain distance, and do not trouble yourself about me, for

The young Prince of Brancaleone, whom, in spite of the darkness of the night, our readers will already have

recognised, advanced towards the fisherman's house, with as little noise as possible, walked up and down

several times upon the shore, and, after having briefly reconnoitred the place that he wished to attack, waited

quietly for the moon to rise and light up the scene that he had prepared. He was not obliged to exercise his

patience very long, for the darkness gradually disappeared, and Solomon's little house was bathed in silvery

light. Then he approached with timid steps, lifted towards the casement a look of entreaty, and began to sigh

with all the power of his lungs. The young girl, called suddenly from her meditations by the appearance of

"Stay, charming Nisida!" cried the prince, in the manner of a man overcome by irresistible passion.

"What do you want with me, signor?" answered the maiden, amazed to hear herself called by name.

Nisida looked at him steadily, and, after a moment or two of reflection, asked suddenly, as though in response

to some secret thought, "Do you belong to this country, or are you a foreigner?"

"I arrived in this island," replied the prince without hesitation, "at the moment when the sun was writing his

farewell to the earth and dipping the rays that serves as his pen into the shadow that serves as his inkstand."

"And who are you?" returned the young girl, not at all understanding these strange words.

"Alas! I am but a poor student, but I may become a great poet like Tasso, whose verses you often hear sung

by a departing fisherman who sends his thrilling music as a last farewell that returns to die on the beach."

"I do not know whether I am doing wrong to speak to you, but at least I will be frank with you," said Nisida,

"Your father will not be inexorable," returned the prince ardently; "one word from you, light of my eyes,

goddess of my heart, and I will work night and day, never pausing nor slackening, and will render. myself

worthy to possess the treasure that God has revealed to my dazzled eyes, and, from being poor and obscure as

"I have stayed too long listening to talk that a maiden should not hear; permit me, signor, to withdraw."

"Have pity on me, my cruel enemy! What have I done to you that you should thus leave me with death in my

soul? You do not know that, for months past, I have been following you everywhere like a shadow, that I

prowl round your home at night, stifling my sighs lest they should disturb your peaceful slumber. You are

afraid, perhaps, to let yourself be touched, at a first meeting, by a poor wretch who adores you. Alas! Juliet

was young and beautiful like you, and she did not need many entreaties to take pity on Romeo."

Nisida suffered a sad and thoughtful look to fall upon this handsome young man who spoke to her in so

gentle a voice, and withdrew without further reply, that she might not humiliate his poverty.

The prince made great efforts to suppress a strong inclination towards laughter, and, very well satisfied with

this opening, turned his steps towards the spot where he had left his servant. Trespolo, after having emptied a

bottle of lacryma with which he had provided himself for any emergency, had looked long around him to

choose a spot where the grass was especially high and thick, and had laid himself down to a sound sleep,

murmuring as he did so, this sublime observation, "O laziness, but for the sin of Adam you would be a

The young girl could not close her eyes during the whole night after the conversation that she had held with

the stranger. His sudden appearance, his strange dress and odd speech, had awakened in her an uncertain

feeling that had been lying asleep in the bottom of her heart. She was at this time in all the vigour of her

youth and of her resplendent beauty. Nisida was not one of the weak and timid natures that are broken by

suffering or domineered over by tyranny. Far otherwise: everything around her had contributed towards

shaping for her a calm and serene destiny; her simple, tender soul had unfolded in an atmosphere of peace

and happiness. If she had not hitherto loved, it was the fault, not of her coldness but of the extreme timidity

shown by the inhabitants of her island. The blind depth of respect that surrounded the old fisherman had

drawn around his daughter a barrier of esteem and submission that no one dared to cross. By means of thrift

and labour Solomon had succeeded in creating for himself a prosperity that put the poverty of the other

fishermen to the blush. No one had asked for Nisida because no one thought he deserved her. The only

admirer who had dared to show his passion openly was Bastiano, the most devoted and dearest friend of

Gabriel; but Bastiano did not please her. So, trusting in her beauty, upheld by the mysterious hope that never

deserts youth, she had resigned herself to wait, like some princess who knows that her betrothed will come

On the day of the Assumption she had left her island for the first time in her life, chance having chosen her

among the maidens of the kingdom vowed by their mothers to the special protection of the Virgin. But,

overwhelmed by the weight of a position so new to her, blushing and confused under the eyes of an immense

crowd, she had scarcely dared to raise her wondering looks, and the splendours of the town had passed before

When she perceived the presence of this handsome young man, so slenderly and elegantly built, whose noble

and calm demeanour contrasted with the timidity and awkwardness of her other admirers, she felt herself

inwardly disturbed, and no doubt she would have believed that her prince had come, if she had been

unpleasantly struck by the poverty of his dress. She had, nevertheless, allowed herself to listen to him longer

than she ought to have done, and she drew back with her bosom heavy, her cheek on fire, and her heart rent

"If my father does not wish me to marry him," she said to herself, tormented by the first remorseful feeling of

Then she knelt before the Virgin, who was her only confidante, the poor child having never known her

mother, and tried to tell her the torments of her soul; but she could not achieve her prayer. The thoughts

became entangled within her brain, and she surprised herself uttering strange words. But, assuredly, the Holy

Virgin must have taken pity upon her lovely devotee, for she rose with the impression of a consoling thought,

"I cannot have a moment's doubt," she said to herself, as she unlaced her bodice, "of my father's affection.

Well, then, if he forbids me to speak to him, it will be for my good. And indeed, I have seen him but this

once," she added, as she threw herself upon the bed, "and now I think of it, I consider him very bold to dare

to speak to me. I am almost inclined to laugh at him. How confidently he brought out his nonsense, how

absurdly he rolled his eyes! They are really very fine, those eyes of his, and so is his mouth, and his forehead

and his hair. He does not suspect that I noticed his hands, which are really very white, when he raised them to

heaven, like a madman, as he walked up and down by the sea. Come, come, is he going to prevent my

sleeping? I will not see him again!" she cried, drawing the sheet over her head like an angry child. Then she

began to laugh to herself over her lover's dress, and meditated long upon what her companions would say to

it. Suddenly her brow contracted painfully, a frightful thought had stolen into her mind, she shuddered from

head to foot. "Suppose he were to think someone else prettier than me? Men are so foolish! Certainly, it is too

Then she sat up in her bed, and continued her monologuewhich we will spare the readertill the morning.

Scarcely had the first rays of light filtered through the interlacing branches of jasmine and wavered into the

room, when Nisida dressed herself hurriedly, and went as usual to present her forehead to her father's kiss.

The old man at once observed the depression and weariness left by a sleepless night upon his daughter's face,

and parting with an eager and anxious hand the beautiful black hair that fell over her cheeks, he asked her,

"I have not slept at all," answered Nisida, smiling, to reassure her father; "I am perfectly well, but I have

"Perhaps I have done wrong; but I want you to promise beforehand not to scold me."

"You know very well that I spoil you," said the old man, with a caress ; "I sha11 not begin to be stern

"A young man who does not belong to this island, and whose name I do not know, spoke to me yesterday

"I think so, father," the girl candidly replied. "As to other things, you yourself must judge in your wisdom; for

I wanted to speak to you before coming to know him, so as not to go on with a conversation that you might

"You know that I do not recognise any when it is a question of making my daughter happy."

"Well, all the more reason for me to like him. There is work here for everybody, and my table can spare a

"No matter; tell him to come and speak to me, and if he is an honest lad, I promise you, my child, that I will

Nisida embraced her father effusively, and was beside herself with joy all day, waiting impatiently for the

evening in order to give the young man such splendid news. Eligi Brancaleone was but moderately flattered,

as you will easily believe, by the fisherman's magnanimous intentions towards him; but like the finished

seducer that he was, he appeared enchanted at them. Recollecting his character as a fantastical student and an

outatelbows poet, he fell upon his knees and shouted a thanksgiving to the planet Venus; then, addressing

the young girl, he added, in a calmer voice, that he was going to write immediately to his own father, who in

a week's time would come to make his formal proposal; until then, he begged, as a favour, that he might not

present himself to Solomon nor to any person at all in the island, and assigned as a pretext a certain degree of

shame which he felt on account of his old clothes, assuring his beloved that his father would bring him a

While the illstarred girl was thus walking in terrifying security at the edge of the precipice, Trespolo,

following his master's wishes, had established himself in the island as a pilgrim from Jerusalem. Playing his

part and sprinkling his conversation with biblical phrases, which came to him readily, in his character of

exsacristan, he distributed abundance of charms, wood of the true Cross and milk of the Blessed Virgin, and

all those other inexhaustible treasures on which the eager devotion of worthy people daily feeds. His relics

were the more evidently authentic in that he did not sell any of them, and, bearing his poverty in a holy

manner, thanked the faithful and declined their alms. Only, out of regard for the established virtue of

Solomon, he had consented to break bread with the fisherman, and went to take meals with him with the

regularity of a cenobite. His abstinence aroused universal surprise: a crust dipped in water, a few nuts or figs

sufficed to keep this holy man aliveto prevent him, that is to say, from dying. Furthermore, he entertained

Nisida by his tales of his travels and by his mysterious predictions. Unfortunately, he only appeared towards

evening; for he spent the rest of the day in austerities and in prayersin other words, in drinking like a Turk

On the morning of the seventh day, after the promise given by the prince to the fisherman's daughter,

Brancaleone came into his servant's room, and, shaking hint roughly, cried in his ear, "Up, odious marmot!"

Trespolo, awakened suddenly, rubbed his eyes in alarm. The dead, sleeping peacefully at the bottom of their

coffins, will be less annoyed at the last day when the trump of Judgment comes to drag them from their

slumbers. Fear having, however, immediately dispersed the dark clouds that overspread his countenance, he

"The matter is that I will have you flayed alive a little if you do not leave off that execrable habit of sleeping

"I was not asleep, prince!" cried the servant boldly, as he sprang out of bed; "I was reflecting"

"Listen to me," said the prince in a severe tone; "you were once employed, I believe, in a chemist's shop?"

"Yes, my lord, and I left because my employer had the scandalous barbarity to make me pound drugs, which

"Get up, idiot, and pay great attention to what I am going to say to you. This little fool of a Nisida persists in

wanting me to speak to her father. I made her believe that I was going away this evening to fetch my papers.

There is no time to lose. They know you very well at the fisherman's. You will pour this liquid into their

wine; your life will answer for your not giving them a larger dose than enough to produce a deep sleep. You

will take care to prepare me a good ladder for tonight; after which you will go and wait for me in my boat,

where you will find Numa and Bonaroux. They have my orders. I shall not want you in scaling the fortress; I

"No difficulties!" cried the prince, stamping his foot furiously, "or, by my father's death, I will cure you, once

for all, of your scruples." And he turned on his heel with the air of a man who is certain that people will be

The unhappy Trespolo fulfilled his master's injunctions punctually. With him fear was the guiding principle.

That evening the fisherman's supper table was hopelessly dull, and the sham pilgrim tried in vain to enliven it

by factitious cheerfulness. Nisida was preoccupied by her lover's departure, and Solomon, sharing

unconsciously in his daughter's grief, swallowed but a drop or two of wine, to avoid resisting the repeated

urgency of his guest. Gabriel had set out in the morning for Sorrento and was not to return for two or three

days; his absence tended to increase the old man's melancholy. As soon as Trespolo had retired, the

fisherman yielded to his fatigue. Nisida, with her arms hanging by her sides, her head heavy and her heart

oppressed by a sad presentiment, had scarcely strength to go up to her room, and after having mechanically

The storm was breaking out with violence; one of those terrible storms seen only in the South, when the

congregated clouds, parting suddenly, shed torrents of rain and of hail, and threaten another deluge. The roar

of the thunder drew nearer and was like the noise of a cannonade. The gulf, lately so calm and smooth that

the island was reflected as in a mirror, had suddenly darkened; the furiously leaping waves flung themselves

together like wild horses; the island quaked, shaken by terrible shocks. Even the boldest fishermen had drawn

their boats ashore, and, shut within their cabins, encouraged as best they could their frightened wives and

Amid the deep darkness that overspread the sea Nisida's lamp could be seen gleaming clear and limpid, as it

burned before the Madonna. Two boats, without rudders, sails, or oars, tossed by the waves, beaten by the

winds, were whirling above the abyss; two men were in these two boats, their muscles tense, their breasts

bare, their hair flying. They gazed haughtily on the sea, and braved the tempest.

"Once more, I beg you," cried one of these men, "fear not for me, Gabriel; I promise you that with my two

"You are mad, Bastiano; we have not been able ever since the morning to get near Vico, and have been

obliged to keep tacking about; your skill and strength have been able to do nothing against this frightful

"It is the first time you have ever refused to go with me," remarked the young man.

"Well, yes, my dear Bastiano, I do not know how it is, but tonight I feel drawn to the island by an

irresistible power. The winds have been unchained to bring me back to it in spite of myself, and I will own to

you, even though it should make me seem like a madman in your eyes, that this simple and ordinary event

appears to me like an order from heaven. Do you see that lamp shining over there?"

"It was lighted before the Virgin one the day when my sister was born, and for eighteen year it has never

ceased to burn, night and day. It was my mother's vow. You do not know, my dear Bastiano, you cannot

know how many torturing thoughts that vow recalls to me. My poor mother called me to her deathbed and

told me a frightful tale, a horrible secret, which weighs on my soul like a cloak of lead, and of which I can

only relieve myself by confiding it to a friend. When her painful story was ended she asked to see and to

embrace my sister, who was just born; then with her trembling hand, already chilled by the approach of death,

she desired to light the lamp herself. 'Remember,' these were her last words, 'remember, Gabriel, that your

sister is vowed to the Madonna. As long as this light shines before the blessed image of the Virgin, your sister

will be in no danger.' You can understand now why, at night, when we are crossing the gulf, my eyes are

always fixed on that lamp. I have a belief that nothing could shake, which is that on the day that light goes

"Well," cried Bastiano in an abrupt tone that betrayed the emotion of his heart, "if you prefer to stay, I will go

"Farewell," said Gabriel, without turning aside his eyes from the window towards which he felt himself

drawn by a fascination for which he could not account. Bastiano disappeared, and Nisida's brother, assisted

by the waves, was drawing nearer and nearer to the shore, when, at all once, he uttered a terrible cry which

"My sister is dead!" cried Gabriel and, leaping into the sea, he cleft the waves with the rapidity of lightning.

The storm had redoubled its intensity; long lines of lightning, rending the sides of the clouds, bathed

everything in their tawny and intermittent light. The fisherman perceived a ladder leaning against the front of

his home, seized it with a convulsive hand, and in three bounds flung himself into the room. The prince felt

himself strangely moved on making his way into this pure and silent retreat. The calm and gentle gaze of the

Virgin who seemed to be protecting the rest of the sleeping girl, that perfume of innocence shed around the

maidenly couch, that lamp, openeyed amid the shadows, like a soul in prayer, had inspired the seducer with

an unknown distress. Irritated by what he called an absurd cowardice, he had extinguished the obtrusive light,

and was advancing towards the bed, and addressing unspoken reproaches to himself, when Gabriel swooped

Brancaleone, by a bold and rapid movement that showed no common degree of skill and bravery, while

struggling in the grasp of his powerful adversary, drew forth in his right hand a long dagger with a fine

barbed blade. Gabriel smiled scornfully, snatched the weapon from him, and even as he stooped to break it

across his knee, gave the prince a furious blow with his head that made him stagger and sent him rolling on

the floor, three paces away; then, leaning over his poor sister and gazing on her with hungry eyes, by the

passing gleam of a flash, "Dead!" he repeated, wringing his arms in despair, "dead!"

In the fearful paroxysm that compressed his throat he could find no other words to assuage his rage or to pour

forth his woe. His hair, which the storm had flattened, rose on his head, the marrow of his bones was chilled,

and he felt his tears rush back upon his heart. It was a terrible moment; he forgot that the murderer still lived.

The prince, however, whose admirable composure did not for a moment desert him, had risen, bruised and

bleeding. Pale and trembling with rage, he sought everywhere for a weapon with which to avenge himself.

Gabriel returned towards him gloomier and more ominous than ever, and grasping his neck with an iron hand,

"Father! father! father!" he cried in a piercing voice, "here is the Bastard who Has just murdered Nisida!"

The old man, who had drunk but a few drops of the narcotic potion, was awakened by this cry which echoed

through his soul; he arose as though moved by a spring, flung off his coverings, and with that promptitude of

action that God has bestowed upon mothers in moments of danger, event up to his daughter's room, found a

light, knelt on the edge of the bed, and began to test his child's pulse and watch her breathing with mortal

All! this had passed in less time than we have taken in telling it. Brancaleone by an unheardof effort had

freed himself from the hands of the young fisherman, and suddenly resuming his princely pride, said in a loud

Gabriel would have overwhelmed him with Bitter reproaches, but, unable to utter a single word, he burst into

"Your sifter is not dead," said the prince, with cold dignity; "she is merely asleep. You can assure yourself of

These words were pronounced with such an accent of truth that the fisherman was struck by them. An

unexpected gleam of hope suddenly dawned in his thoughts; he cast upon the stranger a glance of hate and

distrust, and muttered in a muffled voice, "Do not flatter yourself, in any case, that you will be able to escape

Then he went up to his sister's room, and approaching the old man, asked tremblingly, "Well, father?"

Solomon thrust him gently aside with the solicitude of a mother removing some buzzing insect from her

child's cradle, and, making a sign to enjoin silence, added in a low voice, "She is neither dead nor poisoned.

Some philtre has been given to her for a bad purpose. Her breathing is even, and she cannot fail to recover

Gabriel, reassured about Nisida's life, returned silently to the ground floor where he had left the seducer. His

manner was grave and gloomy; he was coming now not to rend the murderer of his sister with his hands, but

to elucidate a treacherous and infamous mystery, and to avenge his honour which had been basely attacked.

He opened wide the double entrance door that admitted daylight to the apartment in which, on the few nights

that he spent at home, he was accustomed to sleep with his father. The rain had just stopped, a ray of

moonlight pierced the clouds, and all at once made its way into the room. The fisherman adjusted his

dripping garments, walked towards the stranger, who awaited him without stirring, and after having gazed

upon him haughtily, said, "Now you are going to explain your presence in our house."

"I confess," said the prince, in an easy tone and with the most insolent assurance, "that appearances are

against me. It is the fate of lovers to be treated as thieves. But although I have not the advantage of being

known to you, I am betrothed to the fair Nisida with your father's approval, of course. Now, as I have the

misfortune to possess very hardhearted parents, they have had the cruelty to refuse me their consent. Love led

me astray, and I was about to be guilty of a fault for which a young man like you ought to have some

indulgence. Furthermore, it was nothing but a mere attempt at an abduction, with the best intentions in the

world, I swear, and I am ready to atone for everything if you will agree to give me your hand and call me

"I will agree to call you a coward and a betrayer!" replied Gabriel, whose face had begun to glow, as he heard

his sister spoken of with such impudent levity. "If it is thus that insults are avenged in towns, we fishers have

a different plan. Ah! so you flattered yourself with the thought of bringing desolation aid disgrace into our

home, and of paying infamous assassins to come and share an old man's bread so as to poison his daughter, of

stealing by night, like a brigand, armed with a dagger, into my sister's room, and of being let off by marrying

"Listen," continued Gabriel: "I could break you as I broke your dagger just now; but I have pity on you. I see

that you can do nothing with your hands, neither defend yourself nor work. Go, I begin to understand; you are

a braggart, my fine sir; your poverty is usurped; you have decked yourself in these poor clothes, but you are

He suffered a glance of crushing contempt to fall upon the prince, then going to a cupboard hidden in the

A flash of joy illuminated the countenance of the prince, who had hitherto suppressed his rage. He seized the

rifle eagerly, drew three steps backward, and drawing himself up to his full height, said, "You would have

done better to lend me this weapon at the beginning; for then I would have been spared from witnessing your

silly vapourings and frantic convulsions. Thanks, youngman; one of my servants will bring you back your

"I lent you that rifle to fight with me," cried Gabriel, whom surprise had rooted to the spot.

"Move aside, my lad; you are out of your senses," said the prince, taking a step towards the door.

"Because such is the will of God; because you were born to crawl and I to trample you under my feet;

because all the blood that I could shed in this island would not purchase one drop of my blood; because a

thousand lives of wretches like you are not equal to one hour of mine; because you will kneel at my name that

I, am now going to utter; because, in short, you are but a poor fisherman and my name is Prince of

At this dreaded name, which the young nobleman flung, like a thunderbolt, at his head, the fisherman

bounded like a lion. He drew a deep breath, as though he had lifted a weight that had long rested on his heart.

"Ah!" he cried, "you have given yourself into my hands, my lord! Between the poor fisherman and the

allpowerful prince there is a debt of blood. You shall pay for yourself and for your father. We are going to

settle our accounts, your excellency," he added, rising his axe over the head of the prince, who was aiming at

him. "Oh! you were in too great haste to choose: the rifle is not loaded." The prince turned pale.

"Between our two families," Gabriel continued, "there exists a horrible secret which my mother confided to

me on the brink of the grave, of which my father himself is unaware, and that no man in the world must learn.

"Do you know why my sister, whom you wished to dishonour, was vowed to the Madonna? Because your

father, like you, wished to dishonour my mother. In your accursed house there is a tradition of infamy. You

do not know what slow and terrible torments my poor mother enduredtorments that broke her strength and

caused her to die in early youth, and that her angelic soul dared confide to none but her son in that supreme

The fisherman wiped away a burning tear. "One day, before we were born, a fine lady, richly dressed, landed

in our island from a splendid boat; she asked to see my mother, who was as young and beautiful as my Nisida

is today. She could not cease from admiring her; she blamed the blindness of fate which had buried this

lovely jewel in the bosom of an obscure island; she showered praises, caresses, and gifts upon my mother,

and after many indirect speeches, finally asked her parents for her, that she might make her her lady

inwaiting. The poor people, foreseeing in the protection of so great a lady a brilliant future for their

daughter, were weak enough to yield. That lady was your mother; and do you know why she came thus to

seek that poor innocent maiden? Because your mother had a lover, and because she wished to make sure, in

"Oh, your excellency will hear me out. At the beginning, my poor mother found herself surrounded by the

tenderest care: the princess could not be parted from her for a moment; the most flattering words, the finest

clothes, the richest ornaments were hers; the servants paid her as much respect as though she were a daughter

of the house. When her parents went to see her and to inquire whether she did not at all regret having left

them, they found her so lovely and so happy, that they blessed the princess as a good angel sent them from

God. Then the prince conceived a remarkable affection for my mother; little by little his manners became

more familiar and affectionate. At last the princess went away for a few days, regretting that she could not

take with her her dear child, as she called her. Then the prince's brutality knew no further barriers; he no

longer concealed his shameful plans of seduction; he spread before the poor girl's eyes pearl necklaces and

caskets of diamonds; he passed from the most glowing passion to the blackest fury, from the humblest

prayers to the most horrible threats. The poor child was shut up in a cellar where there was hardly a gleam of

daylight, and every morning a frightful gaoler came and threw her a bit of black bread, repeating with oaths

that it only depended upon herself to alter all this by becoming the prince's mistress. This cruelty continued

for two years. The princess had gone on a long journey, and my mother's poor parents believed that their

daughter was still happy with her protectress. On her return, having; no doubt fresh sins for which she needed

forgiveness, she took my mother from her dungeon, assumed the liveliest indignation at this horrible

treatment, about which she appeared to have known nothing, wiped her tears, and by an abominable

refinement of perfidy received the thanks of the victim whom she was about to sacrifice.

One eveningI have just finished, my lordthe princess chose to sup alone with her ladyinwaiting: the

rarest fruits, the most exquisite dishes, and the most delicate wines were served to my poor mother, whose

prolonged privations had injured her health and weakened her reason; she gave way to a morbid gaiety.

Diabolical philtres were poured into her cup; that is another tradition in your family. My mother felt uplifted,

her eyes shone with feverish brilliance, her cheeks were on fire. Then the prince came inoh! your

excellency will see that God protects the poor. My darling mother, like a frightened dove, sheltered herself in

the bosom of the princess, who pushed her away, laughing. The poor distraught girl, trembling, weeping,

knelt down in the midst of that infamous room. It was St. Anne's Day; all at once the house shook, the walls

cracked, cries of distress rang out in the streets. My mother was saved. It was the earthquake that destroyed

half Naples. You know all about it, my lord, since your old palace is no longer habitable."

"Oh, I merely wish to persuade you that you must fight with me," answered the fisherman coldly, as he

offered him a cartridge. "And now," he added, in an excited tone, "say your prayers, my lord; for I warn you,

The prince carefully examined the powder and shot, made sure that his rifle was in good condition; loaded it,

and, eager to make an end, took aim at the fisherman; but, either because he had been so much disturbed by

his opponent's terrible tale, or, because the grass was wet from the storm, at the moment when he put forward

his left foot to steady his shot, he slipped, lost his balance and fell on one knee. He fired into the air.

"That does not count, my lord," cried Gabriel instantly, and handed him a second charge.

At the noise of the report Solomon had appeared at the window, and, understanding what was going on, had

lifted his hands to heaven, in order to address to God a dumb and fervent prayer. Eligi uttered a frightful

inprecation, and hastily reloaded his rifle; but, struck by the calm confidence of the young man, who stood

motionless before him, and by the old man, who, impassive and undisturbed, seemed to be conjuring God in

the name of a father's authority, disconcerted by his fall, his knees shaking and his arm jarred, he felt the

chills of death running in his veins. Attempting, nevertheless, to master his emotion, he took aim a second

time; the bullet whistled by the fisherman's ear and buried itself in the stem of a poplar.

The prince, with the energy of despair, seized the barrel of his weapon in both hands; but Gabriel was coming

forward with his axe, a terrible foe, and his first stroke carried away the butt of the rifle. He was still

hesitating, however, to kill a defenceless man, when two armed servants appeared at the end of the pathway.

Gabriel did not see them coming; but at the moment when they would have seized him by the shoulders,

"You lie, Prince of Brancaleone!" cried Gabriel, and with one blow of the axe he cleft his skull.

The two bravoes who were coming to their master's assistance, when they saw him fall, took flight; Solomon

and his son went up to Nisida's room. The young girl had just shaken off her heavy slumber; a slight

perspiration moistened her brow, and she opened her eyes slowly to the dawning day.

"Why are you looking at me in that way, father?" she said, her mind still wandering a littler and she passed

"You have just passed through a great danger, my poor Nisida," said he; "arise, and let us give thanks to the

Then all three, kneeling before the sacred image of the Virgin, began to recite litanies. But at that very instant

a noise of arms sounded in the enclosure, the house was surrounded by soldiers, and a lieutenant of

gendarmes, seizing Gabriel, said in a loud voice, "In the name of the law, I arrest you for the murder that you

have just committed upon the person of his excellency and illustrious lordship, the Prince of Brancaleone."

Nisida, struck by these words, remained pale and motionless like a marble statue kneeling on a tomb; Gabriel

was already preparing to make an unreasoning resistance, when a gesture from his father stopped him.

"Signor tenente," said the old man, addressing himself to the officer, "my son killed the prince in lawful

defence, for the latter had scaled our house and made his way in at night and with arms in his hand. The

proofs are before your eyes. Here is a ladder set up against the window; and here," he proceeded, picking up

the two pieces of the broken blade, "is a dagger with the Brancaleone arms. However, we do not refuse to

The last words of the fisherman were drowned by cries of "Down with the sbirri! down with the gendarmes!"

which were repeated in every direction. The whole island was up in arms, and the fisherfolk would have

suffered themselves to be cut up to the last man before allowing a single hair of Solomon or of his son to be

touched; but the old man appeared upon his threshold, and, stretching out his arm with a calm and grave

movement that quieted the anger of the crowd, he said, "Thanks, my children; the law must be respected. I

Hardly three months have elapsed since the day upon which we first beheld the old fisherman of Nisida

sitting before the door of his dwelling, irradiated by all the happiness that he had succeeded in creating

around him, reigning like a king, on his throne of rock, and blessing his two children, the most beautiful

creatures in the island. Now the whole existence of this man, who was once so happy and so much envied, is

changed. The smiling cottage, that hung over the gulf like a swan over a transparent lake, is sad and desolate;

the little enclosure, with its hedges of lilac and hawthorn, where joyous groups used to come and sit at the

close of day, is silent and deserted. No human sound dares to trouble the mourning of this saddened solitude.

Only towards evening the waves of the sea, compassionating such great misfortunes, come to murmur

Gabriel has been condemned. The news of the highborn Prince of Brancaleone's death, so young, so

handsome, and so universally adored, not only fluttered the aristocracy of Naples, but excited profound

indignation in all classes of people. He was mourned by everybody, and a unanimous cry for vengeance was

The authorities opened the inquiry with alarming promptness. The magistrates whom their office called to

judge this deplorable affair displayed, however, the most irreproachable integrity. No consideration outside

their duty, no deference due to so noble and powerful a family, could shake the convictions of their

conscience. History has kept a record of this memorable trial; and has, no reproach to make to men which

does not apply equally to the imperfection of human laws. The appearance of things, that fatal contradiction

which the genius of evil so often here on earth gives to truth, overwhelmed the poor fisherman with the most

Trespolo, in whom fear had destroyed all scruples, being first examined, as having been the young prince's

confidant, declared with cool impudence that, his master having shown a wish to escape for a few days from

the importunities of a young married lady whose passion was beginning to tire him, had followed him to the

island with three or four of his most faithful servants, and that he himself had adopted the disguise of a

pilgrim, not wishing to betray his excellency's incognito to the fisherpeople, who would certainly have

tormented so powerful a person by all sorts of petitions. Two local watch men, who had happened to be on

the hillside at the moment of the crime, gave evidence that confirmed the valet's lengthy statement; hidden by

some under wood, they had seen Gabriel rush upon the prince, and had distinctly heard the last words of the

dying man; calling "Murder!" All the witnesses, even those summoned at the request of the prisoner, made

his case worse by their statements, which they tried to make favourable. Thus the court, with its usual

perspicacity and its infallible certainty, succeeded in establishing the fact that Prince Eligi of Brancaleone,

having taken a temporary dislike to town life, had retired to the little island of Nisida, there to give himself up

peaceably to the pleasure of fishing, for which he had at all times had a particular predilection (a proof

appeared among the documents of the case that the prince had regularly been present every other year at the

tunnyfishing on his property at Palermo); that when once he was thus hidden in the island, Gabriel might

have recognised him, having gone with his sister to the procession, a few days before, and had, no doubt,

planned to murder him. On the day before the night of the crime, the absence of Gabriel and the

discomposure of his father and sister had been remarked. Towards evening the prince had dismissed his

servant, and gone out alone, as his custom was, to walk by the seashore. Surprised by the storm and not

knowing the byways of the island, he had wandered round the fisherman's house, seeking a shelter; then

Gabriel, encouraged by the darkness and by the noise of the tempest, which seemed likely to cover the cries

of his victim, had, after prolonged hesitation, resolved to commit his crime, and having fired two shots at the

unfortunate young man without succeeding in wounding him, had put an end to him by blows of the axe;

lastly, at the moment when, with Solomon's assistance, he was about to throw the body into the sea, the

prince's servants having appeared, they had gone up to the girl's room, and, inventing their absurd tale, had

cast themselves on their knees before the Virgin, in order to mislead the authorities. All the circumstances

that poor Solomon cited in his son's favour turned against him: the ladder at Nisida's window belonged to the

fisherman; the dagger which young Brancaleone always carried upon him to defend himself had evidently

been taken from him after his death, and Gabriel had hastened to break it, so as to destroy, to the best of his

power, the traces of his crime. Bastiano's evidence did not receive a minute's consideration: he, to destroy the

idea of premeditation, declared that the young fisherman had left him only at the moment when the storm

broke over the island; but, in the first place, the young diver was known to be Gabriel's most devoted friend

and his sister's warmest admirer, and, in the second, he had been seen to land at Torre during the same hour in

which he had affirmed that he was near to Nisida. As for the prince's passion for the poor peasant girl, the

magistrates simply shrugged their shoulders at the ridiculous assertion of that, and especially at the young

girl's alleged resistance and the extreme measures to which the prince was supposed to have resorted to

conquer the virtue of Nisida. Eligi of Brancaleone was so young, so handsome, so seductive, and at the same

time so cool amid his successes, that he had never been suspected of violence, except in getting rid of his

mistresses. Finally, an overwhelming and unanswerable proof overthrew all the arguments for the defence:

under the fisherman's bed had been found a purse with the Brancaleone arms, full of gold, the purse which, if

The old man did not lose heart at this fabric of lies; after the pleadings of the advocates whose ruinous

eloquence he had bought with heavy gold, he defended his son himself, and put so much truth, so much

passion, and so many tears into his speech, that the whole audience was moved, and three of the judges voted

for an acquittal; but the majority was against it, and the fatal verdict was pronounced.

The news at once spread throughout the little island, and caused the deepest dejection there. The fishers who,

at the first irruption of force, had risen as one man to defend their comrade's cause, bowed their heads without

a murmur before the unquestioned authority of a legal judgment. Solomon received unflinchingly the stab

that pierced his heart. No sigh escaped his breast; no tear came to his eyes; his wound did not bleed. Since his

son's arrest he had sold all he possessed in the world, even the little silver cross left by his wife at her death,

even the pearl necklace that flattered his fatherly pride by losing its whiteness against his dear Nisida's throat;

the pieces of gold gained by the sale of these things he had sewn into his coarse woollen cap, and had

established himself in the city. He ate nothing but the bread thrown to him by the pity of passersby, and

To estimate at its full value the heroic courage of this unhappy father, one must take a general view of the

whole extent of his misfortune. Overwhelmed by age and grief, he looked forward with solemn calmness to

the terrible moment which would bear his son, a few days before him, to the grave. His sharpest agony was

the thought of the shame that would envelop his family. The first scaffold erected in that gently mannered

island would arise for Gabriel, and that ignominious punishment tarnish the whole population and imprint

upon it the first brand of disgrace. By a sad transition, which yet comes so easily in the destiny of man, the

poor father grew to long for those moments of danger at which he had formerly trembled, those moments in

which his son might have died nobly. And now all was lost: a long life of work, of abnegation, and of good

deeds, a pure and stainless reputation that had extended beyond the gulf into distant countries, and the

traditional admiration, rising almost to worship, of several generations; all these things only served to deepen

the pit into which the fisherman had fallen, at one blow, from his kingly height. Good fame, that divine halo

without which nothing here on earth is sacred, had disappeared. Men no longer dared to defend the poor

wretch, they pitied him. His name would soon carry horror with it, and Nisida, poor orphan, would be

nothing to anyone but the sister of a man who had been condemned to death. Even Bastiano turned away his

face and wept. Thus, when every respite was over, when poor Solomon's every attempt had failed, people in

the town who saw him smile strangely, as though under the obsession of some fixed idea, said to one another

Gabriel saw his last day dawn, serenely and calmly. His sleep had been deep; he awoke full of unknown joy;

a cheerful ray of sunlight, falling through the loophole, wavered over the fine golden straw in his cell; an

autumn breeze playing around him, brought an agreeable coolness to his brow, and stirred in his long hair.

The gaoler, who while he had had him in his charge had always behaved humanely, struck by his happy

looks, hesitated to announce the priest's visit, in fear of calling the poor prisoner from his dream. Gabriel

received the news with pleasure; he conversed for two hours with the good priest, and shed sweet tears on

receiving the last absolution. The priest left the prison with tears in his eyes, declaring aloud that he had never

The fisherman was still under the influence of this consoling emotion when his sister entered. Since the day

when she had been carried, fainting, from the room where her brother had just been arrested, the poor girl,

sheltered under the roof of an aunt, and accusing herself of all the evil that had befallen, had done nothing but

weep at the feet of her holy protectress. Bowed by grief like a young lily before the storm, she would spend

whole hours, pale, motionless, detached from earthly things, her tears flowing silently upon her beautiful

clasped hands. When the moment came to go and embrace her brother for the last time, Nisida arose with the

courage of a saint. She wiped away the traces of her tears, smoothed her beautiful black hair, and put on her

best white dress. Poor child, she tried to hide her grief by an angelic deception. She had the strength to smile!

At the sight of her alarming pallor Gabriel felt his heart wrung, a cloud passed over his eyes; he would have

run to meet her, but, held back by the chain which fettered him to a pillar of his prison, stepped back sharply

and stumbled. Nisida flew to her brother and upheld him in her arms. The young girl had understood him; she

assured him that she was well. Fearing to remind him of his terrible position, she spoke volubly of all manner

of thingsher aunt, the weather, the Madonna. Then she stopped suddenly, frightened at her own words,

frightened at her own silence; she fixed her burning gaze upon her brother's brow as though to fascinate him.

Little by little animation returned to her; a faint colour tinted her hollowed cheeks, and Gabriel, deceived by

the maiden's super human efforts, thought her still beautiful, and thanked God in his heart for having spared

this tender creature. Nisida, as though she had followed her brother's secret thoughts, came close to him,

pressed his hand with an air of understanding, and murmured low in his ear, "Fortunately our father has been

away for two days; he sent me word that he would be detained in town. For us, it is different; we are young,

"Bah! I will pray to the Madonna. Does she not watch over us?" The girl stopped, struck by the sound of her

own words, which the circumstances so cruelly contradicted. But looking at her brother, she went on in a low

tone: "Assuredly she does watch over us. She appeared to me last night in a dream. She held her child Jesus

on her arm, and looked at me with a mother's tenderness. She wishes to make saints of us, for she loves us;

"Well, go and pray for me, my kind sister; go away from the view of this sad place, which will eventually

shake your firmness, and perhaps mine. Go; we shall see each other again in heaven above, where our mother

is waiting for usour mother whom you have not known, and to whom I shall often speak of you. Farewell,

The young girl called up all her strength into her heart for this supreme moment; she walked with a firm step;

having reached the threshold, she turned round and waved him a farewell, preventing herself by a nervous

contraction from bursting into tears, but as soon as she was in the corridor, a sob broke from her bosom, and

Gabriel, who heard it echo from the vaulted roof, thought that his heart would break.

Then he threw himself on his knees, and, lifting his hands to heaven, cried, "I have finished suffering; I have

nothing more that holds me to life. I thank Thee, my God! Thou hast kept my father away, and hast been

willing to spare the poor old man a grief that would have been beyond his strength."

It was at the hour of noon, after having exhausted every possible means, poured out his gold to the last piece,

and embraced the knees of the lowest serving man, that Solomon the fisherman took his way to his son's

prison. His brow was so woebegone that the guards drew back, seized with pity, and the gaoler wept as he

closed the door of the cell upon him. The old man remained some moments without advancing a step,

absorbed in contemplation of his son. By the tawny gleam of his eye might be divined that the soul of the

man was moved at that instant by some dark project. He seemed nevertheless struck by thebeauty of

Gabriel's face. Three months in prison had restored to his skin the whiteness that the sun had turned brown;

his fine dark hair fell in curls around his neck, his eyes rested on his father with a liquid and brilliant gaze.

"I know it," answered Gabriel in a tone of tender reproach, "and it is not that which most afflicts me at this

moment. But you, too, why do you wish to give me pain, at your age? Why did you not stay in the town?"

"In the town," the old man returned, "they have no pity; I cast myself at the king's feet, at everybody's feet;

"Well, in God's name, what is death to me? I meet it daily on the sea. My greatest, my only torment is the

"And I, do you think, my Gabriel, that I only suffer in seeing you die? Oh, it is but a parting for a few days; I

shall soon go to join you. But a darker sorrow weighs upon me. I am strong, I am a man". He stopped, fearing

that he had said too much; then drawing near to his son, he said in a tearful voice, "Forgive me, my Gabriel; I

am the cause of your death. I ought to have killed the prince with my own hand. In our country, children and

old men are not condemned to death. I am over eighty years old; I should have been pardoned; they told me

that when, with tears, I asked pardon for you; once more, forgive me, Gabriel; I thought my daughter was

"Father, father!" cried Gabriel, touched, "what are you saying? I would have given my life a thousand times

over to purchase one day of yours. Since you are strong enough to be present at my last hour, fear not; you

"And he is to die, to die!" cried Solomon, striking his forehead in despair, and casting on the walls of the

"Yes," murmured the old man in a muffled voice, "but He did not leave behind a sister dishonoured by His

These words, which escaped the old fisherman in spite of himself, threw a sudden and terrible light into the

soul of Gabriel. For the first time he perceived all the infamous manner of his death: the shameless populace

crowding round the scaffold, the hateful hand of the executioner taking him by the Hair, and the drops of his

"It is not the weapon that is lacking," answered Solomon, carrying his hand to the hilt of a dagger that he had

"Then kill me, father," said Gabriel in a low tone, but with an irresistible accent of persuasion and entreaty;

"oh yes, I confess it now, the executioner's hand frightens me. My Nisida, my poor Nisida, I have seen her;

she was here just now, as beautiful and as pale as the Madonna Dolorosa; she smiled to hide from me her

sufferings. She was happy, poor girl, because she believed you away. Oh, how sweet it will be to me to die by

your hand! You gave me life; take it back, father, since God will have it so. And Nisida will be saved. Oh, do

not hesitate! It would be a cowardice on the part of both of us; she is my sister, she is your daughter."

And seeing that his powerful will had subjugated the old man, he said, "Help! help, father!" and offered his

breast to the blow. The poor father lifted his hand to strike; but a mortal convulsion ran through all his limbs;

"Poor father!" said Gabriel. "I ought to have foreseen that. Give me that dagger and turn away; I am young

"Oh no !" returned Solomon solemnly, "no, my son, for then you would be a suicide! Let your soul ascend to

Then there passed in that dungeon one of those scenes that words can never reproduce. The poor father sat

down on the straw at his son's side and laid his head gently upon his knees. He smiled to him through his

tears, as one smiles to a sick child; he passed his hand slowly through the silky curls of his hair, and asked

him countless questions, intermingled with caresses. In order to give him a distaste for this world he kept on

talking to him of the other. Then, with a sudden change, he questioned him minutely about all sorts of past

matters. Sometimes he stopped in alarm, and counted the beatings of his heart, which were hurriedly marking

"Tell me everything, my child; have you any desire, any wish that could be satisfied before you die? Are you

leaving any woman whom you loved secretly? Everything we have left shall be hers."

"I regret nothing on earth but you and my sister. You are the only persons whom I have loved since my

"With all the strength of my heart. I pray God to have mercy on the witnesses who accused me. May He

"How old is it that you will soon be?" the old man asked suddenly, for his reason was beginning to totter, and

"Do you remember how, five years ago, on that same day I got the prize in the regatta at Venice?"

And he listened, his neck stretched forward, his mouth half open, his hands in his son's. A sound of steps

came in from the corridor, and a dull knock was struck upon the door. It was the fatal hour. The poor father

The priests had already begun to sing the death hymn; the executioner was ready, the procession had set out,

when Solomon the fisherman appeared suddenly on the threshold of the prison, his eyes aflame and his brow

radiant with the halo of the patriarchs. The old man drew himself up to his full height, and raising in one hand

the reddened knife, said in a sublime voice, "The sacrifice is fulfilled. God did not send His angel to stay the

[The details of this case are recorded in the archives of the Criminal Court at Naples. We have changed

nothing in the age or position of the persons who appear in this narrative. One of the most celebrated