Tom Burke Of Ours, Volume I

Home > Other > Tom Burke Of Ours, Volume I > Page 40
Tom Burke Of Ours, Volume I Page 40

by Charles James Lever


  CHAPTER XXXVII. THE TRIAL.

  So doubtful was the Government of the day in what way the peopleof Paris would be disposed to regard the trial of the _Chouan_prisoners,--how far public sympathy might side with misfortune andheroism, and in what way they would regard Moreau, whose career in armsso many had witnessed with pride and enthusiasm,--that for several daysthey did not dare to strike the decisive blow which was to establishtheir guilt, but advanced with slow and cautious steps, graduallyaccumulating a mass of small circumstances, on which the "Moniteur" eachday commented, and the other journals of less authority expatiated,as if to prepare the public mind for further and more importantrevelations.

  At last, however, the day arrived in which the mine was to be sprung.The secret police--whose information extended to all that went on inevery class of the capital, and who knew the chitchat of the highestcircles equally as they did the grumblings of the Faubourg St. Antoine--pronounced the time had come when the fatal stroke might no longer bewithheld, and when the long-destined vengeance should descend on theirdevoted heads.

  The want of energy on the part of the prosecution--the absence ofimportant witnesses and of all direct evidence whatever--which markedthe first four days of the trial, had infused a high hope and a strongsense of security into the prisoners' hearts. The proofs which theyso much dreaded, and of whose existence they well knew, were notforthcoming against them. The rumored treachery of some of their partybegan at length to lose its terror for them; while in the lax andcareless proceedings of the Procureur-General they saw, or fanciedthey saw, a desire on the part of Government to render the publicuninterested spectators of the scene, and thus prepare the way for anacquittal, while no danger of any excitement existed.

  Such was the state of matters at the close of the fourth day. A tiresomeand desultory discussion on some merely legal question had occupied thecourt for several hours, and many of the spectators, wearied and tiredout, had gone home disappointed in their expectations, and secretlyresolving not to return the following day.

  This was the moment for which the party in power had been waiting,--theinterval of false security, as it would seem, when all danger waspast, and no longer any apprehension existed. The sudden shock of thenewly-discovered proofs would then come with peculiar force; while,mo matter how rapid any subsequent step might be, all charge ofprecipitancy or undue haste had been disproved by the tardy nature ofthe first four days' proceedings.

  For the change of scene about to take place, an early edition of the"Moniteur" prepared the public; and by daybreak the walls of Pariswere placarded with great announcements of the discoveries made by theGovernment: how, by their untiring efforts, the whole plot, which wasto deluge France with blood and subvert the glorious institutions offreedom they had acquired by the Revolution, had been laid open; newand convincing evidence of the guilt of the _Chouans_ had turned up; anda frightful picture of anarchy and social disorganization wasdisplayed,--all of which was to originate in an effort to restore theBourbons to the throne of France.

  While, therefore, the galleries of the court were crowded to suffocationat an early hour, and every avenue leading to the tribunal crammed withpeople anxious to be present at this eventful crisis, the prisonerstook their places on the "bench of the accused," totally unaware ofthe reason of the excitement they witnessed, and strangely puzzled toconceive what unknown circumstance had reinvested the proceedings with anew interest.

  As I took my place among the rest, I stared with surprise at the scene:the strange contrast between the thousands there, whose strained eyesand feverish faces betokened the highest degree of excitement; and thatlittle group on which every look was turned, calm and even cheerful.There sat George Cadoudal in the midst of them, his hands clasped inthose at either side of him; his strongly-marked features perfectlyat rest, and his eyes bent with a steady stare on the bench where thejudges were seated. Moreau was not present, nor did I see some of the_Chouans_ whom I remembered on the former day.

  The usual formal proclamation of the court being made, silence wascalled by the crier,--a useless precaution, as throughout that vastassembly not a whisper was to be heard. A conversation of some minutestook place between the Procureur and the counsel for the prisoners, inwhich I recognized the voice of Monsieur Baillot, my own advocate; whichwas interrupted by the President, desiring that the proceedings shouldcommence.

  The Procureur-General bowed and took his seat, while the President,turning towards George, said:--

  "George Cadoudal, you have hitherto persisted in a course of blankdenial regarding every circumstance of the conspiracy with which youare charged. You have asserted your ignorance of persons and places withwhich we are provided with proof to show you are well acquainted. Youhave neither accounted for your presence in suspected situations,nor satisfactorily shown what were the objects of your intimacy withsuspected individuals. The court now desires to ask you whether, at thisstage of the proceedings, you wish to offer more explicit revelations,or explain any of the dubious events of your career."

  "I will answer any question you put to me," replied George, sternly;"but I have lived too long in another country not to have learned someof its usages, and I feel no desire to become my own accuser. Let himthere" (he pointed to the Procureur-General) "do his office; he is thepaid and salaried assailant of the innocent."

  "I call upon the court," said the Procureur, rising, when he wassuddenly interrupted by the President, saying,--

  "We will protect you, Monsieur le Procureur. And once again we wouldadmonish the accused, that insolence to the authorities of this courtis but a sorry plea in vindication of his innocence, and shall be norecommendation to our mercy."

  "Your mercy!" said George, in a voice of scorn and sarcasm. "Who everheard of a tiger's benevolence or a wolf's charity? And even if youwished it, he whose slaves you are--"

  "I call upon you to be silent," said an advocate, rising from a benchdirectly behind him. "Another interruption of this kind, and I shallabandon the defence."

  "What?" said George, turning quickly round and staring at him with alook of withering contempt; "and have they bought you over too?"

  "Call the first witness," said the President; and an indistinct murmurwas heard, and a slight confusion seen to agitate the crowd, as thegendarmes opened a path towards the witness bench. And then I saw twomen carrying something between them, which I soon perceived to be a man.The legs, which were alone apparent, hung down listlessly like those ofa corpse; and one arm, which fell over the shoulder of the bearer, movedto and fro, as they went, like the limb of a dead man. Every neck wasstretched from the galleries above, and along the benches beneath,to catch a glimpse of the mysterious figure, which seemed like anapparition from the grave come to give evidence. His face, too, wasconcealed by a handkerchief; and as he was placed in a chair providedfor the purpose, the assistants stood at either side to support hisdrooping figure.

  "Let the witness be sworn," said the President; and, with the aid of anofficer of the court, a thin white hand was held up, on which theflesh seemed almost transparent from emaciation. A low, muttering soundfollowed, and the President spoke again,--"Let the witness be uncovered.George Cadoudal, advance!"

  As the hardy _Chouan_ stepped forward, the handkerchief fell from thewitness's face, while his head slowly turned round towards the prisoner.A cry, like the yell of a wounded animal, broke from the stout Breton,as he bounded into the air and held up both his arms to their fullheight.

  "Toi, toi!" screamed he, in accents that seemed the very last of a heartwrung to agony, while he leaned forward and fixed his eyes on him, tillthe very orbs seemed bursting from their sockets. "Oui," added he, ina lower tone, but one which was felt in every corner of that crowdedassemblage--"oui, c'est lui!" Then clasping his trembling handstogether, as his knees bent beneath him, he turned his eyes upwards, andsaid, "Le bon Dieu, that makes men's hearts and knows their thoughts,deals with us as he will; and I must have sinned sorely towards him whensuch punishment as this has
fallen upon me. Oh, my brother! my child! myown Bouvet de Lozier!"

  The Witness 391]

  "Bouvet de Lozier!" cried the other prisoners, with a shout wild asmadness itself, while every man sprang forward to look at him. Butalready his head had fallen back over the chair, the limbs stretched outrigidly, and the arm fell heavily down.

  "He is dying!" "He is dead!" were the exclamations of the crowd, and ageneral cry for a doctor was heard around. Several physicians were soonat his side, and by the aid of restoratives he was gradually broughtback to animation; but cold and speechless he lay, unable to understandanything, and was obliged to be conveyed back again to his bed.

  It was some time before the excitement of this harrowing scene was over;and when order at length was restored in the court, George Cadoudal wasseen seated, as at first, on the bench, while around him his faithfulfollowers were grouped. Like children round a beloved father, someleaned on his neck, others clasped his knees; some covered his handswith kisses, and called him by the most endearing names. But though hemoved his head from, side to side, and tried to smile upon them, acold vacancy was in his face; his lips were parted, and his eyes staredwildly before him; his very hair stood out from his forehead, on whichthe big drops of sweat were seen.

  "Father; dear father, it is but one who is false; see, look how many ofyour children are true to you! Think on us who are with you here, andwill go with you to death without shrinking."

  "He is but a child, too, father; and they have stolen away his reasonfrom him," said another.

  "Yes, they have brought him to this by suffering," cried a third, aswith a clenched hand he menaced the bench, where sat the judges.

  "Order in the court!" cried the President. But the command wasreiterated again and again before silence could be obtained; and whenagain I could observe the proceedings, I saw the Procureur-Generaladdressing the tribunal, to demand a postponement in consequence ofthe illness of the last witness, whose testimony was pronouncedall-conclusive.

  A discussion took place on the subject between the counsel for theprisoners and the prosecution; and at length it was ruled that thistrial should not be proceeded with till the following morning.

  "We are, however, prepared to go on with the other cases," said theProcureur, "if the court will permit."

  "Certainly," said the President.

  "In that case," continued the Procureur, "we shall call on the accusedThomas Burke, lieutenant of the huitieme hussars, now present."

  For some minutes nothing more could be heard, for the crowded galleries,thronged with expectant hundreds, began now to empty. Mine was a namewithout interest for any; and the thronged masses rose to depart, whiletheir over-excited minds found vent in words which, drowned all else. Itwas in vain silence and order were proclaimed; the proceedings had lostall interest, and with it all respect, and for full ten minutes theuproar lasted. Meanwhile, M. Baillot, taking his place by my side,produced some most voluminous papers, in which he soon became deeplyengaged. I turned one look throughout the now almost deserted seats, butnot one face there was known to me. The few who remained seemed to stayrather from indolence than any other motive, as they lounged over thevacant benches and yawned listlessly; and much as I dreaded the gaze ofthat appalling multitude, I sickened at the miserable isolation of mylot, and felt overwhelmed to think that for me there was not one whoshould pity or regret my fall.

  At last order was established in the court, and the Procureur openedthe proceeding by reciting the act of my accusation, in which all thecircumstances already mentioned by my advocate were dwelt and commentedon with the habitual force and exaggeration of bar oratory. The addresswas short, however,--scarcely fifteen minutes long; and by the toneof the speaker, and the manner of the judges, I guessed that my caseexcited little or no interest to the prosecution, either from my ownhumble and insignificant position, or the certainty they felt of myconviction.

  My advocate rose to demand a delay, even a short one, pleading mostenergetically against the precipitancy of a proceeding in whichthe indictment was but made known the day previous. The Presidentinterrupted him roughly, and with an assurance that no circumstanceshort of the necessity to produce some important evidence not thenforthcoming, would induce him to grant a postponement.

  M. Baillot replied at once, "Such, sir, is our case; a witness, whoseevidence is of the highest moment, is not to be found; a day or twomight enable us to obtain his testimony. It is upon this we ground ourhope, our certainty, of an acquittal. The court will not, I am certain,refuse its clemency in such an emergency as this."

  "Where is this same witness to be found? Is he in Paris? Is he inFrance?"

  "We hope in Paris, Monsieur le President."

  "And his name?"

  "The Abbe d'Ervan."

  A strange murmur ran along the bench of judges at the words; and I couldsee that some of them smiled in spite of their efforts to seem grave,while the Procureur-General did not scruple to laugh outright.

  "I believe, sir," said he, addressing the President, "that I canaccommodate my learned brother with this so-much desired testimonyperhaps more speedily, I will not say than he wishes, but than heexpects."

  "How is this?" said my advocate, in a whisper to me. "They have thisAbbe then. Has he turned against his party?"

  "I know nothing of him," said I, recklessly; "falsehood and treacheryseem so rife here, that it can well be as you say."

  "The Abbe d'Ervan!" cried a loud voice; and with the words thewell-known figure moved rapidly from the crowd and mounted the steps ofthe platform.

  "You are lost!" said Baillot, in a low, solemn voice; "it is Mehee de laTouche himself!"

  Had the words of my sentence rung in my ears I had not felt them more,that name, by some secret spell, had such terror in it.

  "You know the prisoner before you, sir?" said the President, turningtowards the Abbe.

  Before he could reply, my advocate broke in:--

  "Pardon me, sir; but previous to the examination of this respectablewitness, I would ask under what name he is to figure in this process?Is he here the Abbe d'Ervan, the agreeable and gifted frequenter of theFaubourg St. Germain?--is he the Chevalier Maupret, the companion andassociate of the house of Bourbon?--or is he the no less celebrated andesteemed citizen Mehe e de la Touche, whose active exertions have beenof such value in these eventful times that we should think no recompensesufficient for them had he not been paid by both parties? Yes, sir,"continued he, in an altered tone, "I repeat it: we are prepared to showthat this man is unworthy of all credit; that he whose testimony thecourt now calls is a hired spy and bribed calumniator,--the instigatorto the treason he prosecutes, the designer of the schemes for whichother men's blood has paid the penalty. Is this abbe without, andgendarme within, to be at large in the world, ensnaring the unsuspectingyouth of France by subtle and insidious doctrines disguised under thesemblance of after-dinner gayety? Are we to feel that on such evidenceas this, the fame, the honor, the life of every man is to rest?--he,who earns his livelihood by treason, and whose wealth is gathered in thebloody sawdust beneath the guillotine!"

  "We shall not hear these observations longer," said the President, withan accent of severity. "You may comment on the evidence of the witnesshereafter, and, if you are able to do so, disprove it. His character isunder the protection of the court."

  "No, sir!" said the advocate, with energy; "no court, however high,--notribunal, beneath that of Heaven itself, whose decrees we dare notquestion,--can throw a shield over a man like this. There are crimeswhich stain the nation they occur in; which, happening in our age, makemen sorry for their generation, and wish they had lived in other times."

  "Once more, sir, I command you to desist!" interrupted the President.

  "If I dare to dictate to the honorable court?" said the so-called Abbe,in an accent of the most honeyed sweetness, and with a smile of the mostwinning expression, "I would ask permission for the learned gentleman toproceed. These well-arranged paragraphs, this indignati
on got by heart,must have vent, since they 're paid for; and it would save the tribunalthe time which must be consumed in listening to them hereafter."

  "If," said the advocate, "the coolness and indifference to blood whichthe headsman exhibits, be a proof of guilt in the victim before him, Icould congratulate the prosecution on their witness. But," cried he,in an accent of wild excitement, "great Heavens! are we again fallenon such times as to need atrocity like this? Is the terrible ordealof blood through which we have passed to be renewed once more? Is theaccusation to be hoarded, the calumnious evidence secreted, the chargeheld back, till the scaffold is ready,--and then the indictment, theslander, the sentence, and the death, to follow on one another like theflash and the thunder? Is the very imputation of having heard from aBourbon to bear its prestige of sudden death?"

  "Silence, sir!" cried the President, to whom the allusion to the Ducd'Enghien was peculiarly offensive, and who saw in the looks of thespectators with what force it told. "You know the prisoner?" said he,turning towards D'Ervan.

  "I have that honor, sir," said he, with a bland smile.

  "State to the court the place and the occasion of your first meetinghim."

  "If I remember correctly, it was in the Palais Royal, at Beauvilliers's.There was a meeting of some of the _Chouan_ party arranged for thatevening, but from some accident only three or four were present. Thesous-lieutenant, however, was one."

  "Repeat, as far as your memory serves you, the conduct and conversationof the prisoner during the evening in question."

  In reply, the Abbe, recapitulated every minute particular of the supper;scarcely an observation the most trivial he did not recall, and apply,by some infernal ingenuity, to the scheme of the conspiracy. Althoughnever, even in the slightest instance, falsifying any speech, hetortured the few words I did say into such a semblance of criminalitythat I started, as I heard the interpretation which now appeared sonaturally to attach to them. (During all this time my advocate neverinterrupted him once, but occupied himself in writing as rapidly as hecould follow the evidence.) The chance expression which concluded theevening,--the hope of meeting soon,--was artfully construed into anarranged and recognized agreement that I had accepted companionshipamongst them, and formally joined their ranks.

  From this he passed on to the second charge,--respecting theconversation I had overheard at the Tuileries, and which I so unhappilyrepeated to Beauvais. This the Abbe, dwelt upon with great minuteness,as evidencing my being an accomplice; showing how I had exhibited greatzeal in the new cause I had embarked in, and affecting to mark how veryhighly the service was rated by those in whose power lay the rewards ofsuch an achievement.

  Then followed the account of my appointment at Versailles, in which Iheard, with a sinking heart, how thoroughly even there the toils werespread around me. It appeared that the reason of the neglect I thenexperienced was an order from the minister that I should not be noticedin any way; that the object of my being placed there was to test myfidelity, which already was suspected; that it was supposed such neglectmight naturally have the effect of throwing me more willingly intothe views of the conspirators, and, as I was watched in every minuteparticular, of establishing my own guilt and leading to the detection ofothers.

  Then came a narrative of his visits to my quarters, in which theomission of all mention of his name in my report was clearly shown as anevidence of my conscious culpability. And, to my horror and confusion,a new witness was produced,--the sentinel, Pierre Dulong, who mountedguard at the gate of the chateau on the morning when I passed the Abbe,through the park.

  With an accuracy beyond my belief, he repeated all out conversations,making the dubious hints and dark suggestions which he himself threw outas much mine as his own; and having at length given a full picture ofmy treacherous conduct, he introduced my intimacy with Beauvais as thecrowning circumstance of my guilt.

  "I shall pause here," said he, with a cool malignity, but ill concealedbeneath a look of affected sorrow--"I shall pause here, and, with thepermission of the court, allow the accused to make, if he will, a fullconfession of his criminality; or, if he refuse this, I shall proceedto the disclosure of other circumstances, by which it will be seen thatthese dark designs met favor and countenance in higher quarters; andamong those, too, whose sex, if nothing else, should have removed thembeyond the contamination of confederacy with assassination."

  "The court," said the President, sternly, "will enter into no compromiseof this kind. You are here to give such evidence as you possess, fully,frankly, and without reserve; nor can we permit you to hold out anypromises to the prisoner that his confession of guilt can afford ascreen to the culpability of others."

  "I demand," cried the Procureur-General, "a full disclosure from thewitness of everything he knows concerning this conspiracy."

  "In that case I shall speak," said the Abbe.

  At this instant a noise was heard in the hall without; a half murmur ranthrough the court; and suddenly the heavy curtain was drawn aside, and aloud voice called out,--

  "In the name of the Republic, one and indivisible, an order of council."

  The messenger, splashed and covered with mud, advanced through thecourt, and delivered a packet into the hands of the President, who,having broken the large seals, proceeded leisurely to read it over.

  At the same moment I felt my arm gently touched, and a small pencil notewas slipped into my hand. It ran thus:--

  Dear Sir,--Burke is safe. An order for his transmission before a military tribunal has just been signed by the First Consul. Stop all the evidence at once, as he is no longer before the court

  The court-martial will be but a formality, and in a few days he will be at liberty.

  Yours, D'AUVERGNE, Lieut,-General.

  Before I could recover from the shock of such glad tidings, thePresident rose, and said,--

  "In the matter of the accused Burke, this court has no longercognizance, as he is summoned before the tribunal of the army. Let himwithdraw, and call on the next case,--Auguste Leconisset."

  D'Ervan stooped down and whispered a few words to the Procureur-General,who immediately demanded to peruse the order of council. To this myadvocate at once objected, and a short and animated discussion on thelegal question followed. The President, however, ruled in favor of mydefender; and at the same instant a corporal's guard appeared, intowhose charge I was formally handed over, and marched from the court.

  Such was the excited state of my mind, in such a confused whirl wereall my faculties, that I knew nothing of what was passing around me; andsave that I was ordered to mount into a carriage, and driven along ata rapid pace, I remembered no more. At length we reached the quayVoltaire, and entered the large square of the barrack. The tears burstout and ran down my cheeks, as I looked once more on the emblems of thecareer I loved. We stopped at the door of a large stone building,where two sentries were posted; and the moment after I found myselfthe occupant of a small barrack-room, in which, though under arrest, nofeature of harsh confinement appeared, and from whose windows I couldsurvey the movement of the troops in the court, and hear the soundswhich for so many a day had been the most welcome to my existence.

 

‹ Prev