The Affair of the Poisons: Murder, Infanticide, and Satanism at the Court of Louis XIV
Page 44
The fact that Sainte-Croix’s name was once again featuring in the inquiry prompted a revival of interest in his activities. Links had already been established between Sainte-Croix and M. Fouquet, for it was Sainte-Croix who had told Mme de Brinvilliers that Fouquet had sent the chemist Christophe Glaser to find out more about poison in Florence. This led La Reynie to speculate whether Maillard and Sainte-Croix might have jointly conspired to kill the King so that Fouquet might be freed.
Convinced that the two men had been bound together in some sinister way, La Reynie suggested that the widow of Christophe Glaser should be lured back from her retirement in Switzerland to see if she could shed any light on the matter. Understandably, however, on being asked to return to France to assist the inquiry, she turned down the invitation.25
Though nothing came of that approach, La Reynie was confident he could establish the truth about the Chevalier de La Brosse’s plans to murder the King. He was spurred on by the King himself, who evinced a keen interest in the progress of the inquiry. The diligent way the matter was pursued was not motivated solely by concern for the King’s safety, for if it could be established that poisoners posed a risk to the monarch himself, there could be no better justification for the existence of the Chambre Ardente. Previously Colbert had questioned the decision to establish a special commission to try offences which could have been adequately dealt with by the criminal courts. His legal adviser Duplessis had agreed that setting up the commission had been unwarranted unless it could be shown that lèse-majesté had been committed, for the dreadful threat posed by that crime justified the most extreme measures. Earlier it had, of course, been indicated to La Reynie that poison might be used against the King, but he had been prevented from laying the evidence before the commissioners. There was no problem, however, about bringing this case to trial and once it became known that the Chamber was adjudicating on a matter relating to the King’s personal safety no loyal subject could dispute that it was fulfilling a vital function.
This consideration rendered it all the more imperative that those suspected of conspiring against the King should be compelled to admit their guilt. Louvois stressed the importance of this to the officer appointed to supervise their torture after conviction. Emphasising that ‘this affair is of very great consequence’, he gave orders that the torture of the guilty parties should be carried out with the utmost severity.26 His admonitions were heeded all too slavishly, for there can be no doubt that the sufferings inflicted on these wretched men were particularly frightful.
Barenton was the first to be brought before the commission. On 5 September he was found guilty of ‘treason in the highest degree for having known of the design against the King without revealing it; also of having … traded in poisons’. At dawn on 6 September he was taken to the torture chamber where initially he insisted he had been wrongly convicted. He agreed that he had once met with the Chevalier de La Brosse but said that all he had ever given him was a water to bathe sore eyes. As the torture intensified, however, Barenton changed his story. ‘Must I damn myself?’ he wailed as it became clear to him that his resistance was crumbling. Having reached the limits of his endurance he then agreed that he had supplied poison intended to kill the King. He explained that the Chevalier de La Brosse had told him that Moreau had already sold him poison, which had proved ineffective, so he wanted Barenton to find him something stronger and more subtle, preferably made of toad venom. Barenton was left so weakened by his ordeal that when he was taken to his death later that afternoon he proved unable to perform the prescribed penance outside Notre-Dame, and there was a real fear he might die before reaching the Place de Grève.27
Three days later Debray, who had given the first warnings that the King had been targeted, was executed. He was not tortured again, but that morning he went into further details about the alleged plot, saying that he now remembered things which might be of importance. Piously thanking the Almighty for having deferred his execution so he could die with a clear conscience, he stated that he had seen both Moreau and Barenton hand poison to the Chevalier de La Brosse. Perhaps he hoped he would be kept alive for a bit longer to answer more questions, but now that he had served his purpose he was expendable. Some consideration was shown him, for when he pleaded for wine on his way to execution his wish was granted. Thus fortified, he died with dignity, telling the crowd he had been justly convicted and asking them to pray for him.28
The other members of the cabal exposed by Debray proved less willing to acknowledge their crimes. When Moreau came before them, the commissioners of the Chambre Ardente had no hesitation in finding him guilty. The statements he made under torture on 13 September apparently vindicated their verdict, for he admitted discussing poison with M. Maillard and agreed that he had supplied it to the Chevalier de La Brosse. However, after he had been taken to the Place de Grève to be broken on the wheel, he retracted all this. As he lay spreadeagled on the wheel with his limbs smashed by hammer blows, he called over the officer supervising the execution to say that he had not told the truth and his confessor had urged him to make amends for having accused others unjustly. By the terms of his sentence, Moreau was condemned to die slowly of his injuries, but the officer promptly ordered the executioner to put him out of his misery by strangling him. Whether this was done for humanitarian reasons or simply to prevent him repeating his denials is a matter for conjecture.29
Perceval proved equally reluctant to abide by the avowals wrung from him in the torture chamber. On 18 September he was tortured so severely that the doctors present feared he might die. Tormented beyond endurance, his agonised shrieks for mercy were interspersed with admissions that he, Barenton and Moreau had conceived a ‘detestable design’ against the King. At the instigation of the Chevalier de La Brosse they had ‘sought to kill the King with poison and by magic, out of vengeance on account of M. Fouquet’. Nevertheless, before being taken to his execution that afternoon he withdrew everything, saying it had been ‘the force of the torments’ that had prompted his words and he was entirely ignorant of any design against the King.30
* * *
Though in his final moments Moreau had done his best to exculpate M. Maillard, this could not save the Conseiller. He was not brought to trial for some months but this was because it was hoped that more could be found out about his crimes, rather than because his guilt was considered doubtful. Although the investigation was shrouded in the utmost secrecy, the public gained some idea of the serious nature of the accusations against him. Having heard that Maillard and Pinon du Martroy had performed spells directed ‘against the King’s sacred person’, one concerned citizen expressed the hope that Maillard would be punished by being torn limb from limb.31
In fact, when Maillard was found guilty of treason on 20 February 1682, the Chamber decreed he should be beheaded for, as a member of a sovereign court, he was entitled to an honourable form of execution. However, his privileged status did not mean he was spared torture. Far from it, indeed, for Louvois had urged Bezons ‘to do everything humanly possible to draw the truth’ from the convicted man. These grim instructions ensured that the prisoner was handled with a terrible ferocity, but through it all he remained steadfast, defiantly declaring they could torture him for eight hours and he still would tell them nothing. To the end he denied all knowledge of a plot against the King and held firm that he had never discussed poisons with Sainte-Croix. By the time his tormentors had finished with him he was in such a poor condition that he could not even hold a pen in order to sign the written record of his interrogation. Even so, no admissions had been extorted from him.32
Before being put to death, Maillard was permitted to spend some time with his confessor. There was great excitement when he unexpectedly summoned the Recorder of the Chambre Ardente to see him, but he merely asked him to arrange the return of modest sums of money to gambling companions he had cheated. Even when Maillard was on the scaffold, a final attempt was made to persuade him to divulge details of his misdeeds,
but he remained as laconic as ever, On being asked why he had become indebted to Sainte-Croix, he answered shortly, ‘Enough! Don’t let’s talk of that.’ He then indicated to the executioner that he should proceed with the beheading.33
* * *
The next to suffer was the Marquis de Termes’s servitor, Monteran. Since his arrest he had consistently denied having plotted against the King, but his attempts to clear himself had been undermined when he had been confronted with Debray, Moreau and Perceval. Despite Monteran’s protests that he had never laid eyes on any of them, all three identified him as the man who had masqueraded as the Chevalier de La Brosse. There was no other evidence against him but in March 1682 it was decided that there were sufficient ‘presumptions and half-proofs’ against him to warrant him being tortured before trial. Accordingly, on 12 March 1682 he was subjected to the water torture, but the strain proved too much for his constitution. One person at court heard that he bore the pain for a considerable period without admitting anything but at length he was driven to say that if permitted a respite he would reveal all he knew. Monteran’s offer was eagerly taken up, but once he had been laid upon the mattress his fortitude returned. Defiantly he declared that though desperation had forced him to bargain with them, now that he was no longer racked with pain he was not prepared to incriminate himself falsely. He was shown no mercy for having practised this deception, but his interrogators were left frustrated when, shortly after the torture was resumed, he died without having broken his silence.34
* * *
The Marquis de Termes still awaited trial. He had been imprisoned at Vincennes since his arrest the previous August, even though it was soon apparent that he was unlikely to have posed as the Chevalier de La Brosse. No one who had had any dealings with the elusive Chevalier had given a description that fitted Termes or made any mention of a speech defect. Yet he was still treated with suspicion, particularly when it was shown that years before, Termes had been in the Bastille at the same time as Egidio Exili. It turned out that Exili, who was credited with having provided Sainte-Croix with his knowledge of poisons, had cast Termes’s horoscope while they were in prison, a coincidence which some considered sinister.35
Despite this, when Termes was brought before the Chambre Ardente on 18 March he was acquitted. It is not clear what evidence was presented against him. Although the public had become vaguely aware that he was suspected of ‘magic and poison’, the grounds for this had remained unclear. Termes himself was happy to consider the matter closed and, within days of his release, he reappeared at court.36
It seems that the King now decided that Termes had been unfairly victimised, for not long after Termes’s release he put the Marquis’s finances on a less precarious footing by taking him on as a Valet of the Bedchamber. The post was considered somewhat demeaning for a man of Termes’s rank, but he appeared to relish his new status. Unfortunately, he soon made himself unpopular with his fellow courtiers. They disliked the way Termes spied on them and reported his findings to the King, and on at least one occasion Termes earned himself a beating. His reputation as a troublemaker was such that people took to fleeing at his approach, with the result that he lived ‘in complete solitude in the midst of the greatest crowd’.37
* * *
Having dealt out harsh punishment to all those convicted of endangering the King, the commissioners of the Chambre Ardente next addressed some long neglected business. Months before the Chamber had come into being, the enigmatic Louis Vanens had been arrested. Ever since, he had remained at the Bastille, where he had been joined by several former associates, including the banker Cadelan and M. and Mme de Bachimont. The probe into their activities had given rise to fears that Vanens had been at the centre of an international consortium, which distributed poison all over Europe, but for the past three years the investigation had lapsed. In the interval, further information about Vanens had come to light, for he was an acquaintance of several of those taken to Vincennes on suspicion of poisoning, but nothing really justified the extravagant suspicions that had been entertained of him.
In the spring of 1682 Vanens and others connected with him were transferred to Vincennes. For the past few months he had been behaving so eccentrically that his sanity was doubted. When his cell mate had erected a crucifix in their chamber, Vanens had smeared it with excrement, and he had taken to worshipping the pet dog that had been his companion during his imprisonment.38 Nevertheless, in April 1682 it was decided he was fit to stand trial.
The evidence that was put before the commission was remarkably feeble. It amounted to little more than allegations that Vanens, like hundreds like him in the Paris underworld, had preyed on others’ credulity by offering to unearth treasures, or to supply powders which supposedly could effect marriages or prolong love affairs.39 He had also produced quantities of a mysterious liquid, which had probably been put on sale after being decanted into bottles. However, there was no proof whatever that this had been poison and it could not be established that Vanens was responsible for the death of a single person. As for the suggestion that he had assassinated eminent figures such as the Duke of Savoy, this was deemed too controversial to be placed before the Chamber.
Vanens was sentenced to serve in the galleys for the rest of his life. Louvois was dissatisfied by this, for though it had proved impossible to convict Vanens of capital crimes, he remained convinced that he was an exceptionally dangerous man. Even in the galleys he might pose an unacceptable security risk and it was also important to prevent word from leaking out that a French national might have been responsible for assassinating a neighbouring head of state. Louvois therefore gave orders that Vanens should be imprisoned for life in a remote fortress in Franche-Comté. When making the arrangements, Louvois cautioned the official in charge that it was ‘very important for the public good to prevent Vanens from communicating with anyone at all’. None of his guards must be permitted to exchange a word with him, for he was ‘one of those skilled in making poison’ who would try to win them over by offering to teach them the secret of the Philosopher’s Stone.40
Since the outcome of Vanens’s trial had been so unsatisfactory, it was decided that it would be preferable to deal with most other members of his gang through the exercise of arbitrary power. The exception was Vanens’s valet, La Chaboissière, whose alleged offences were not of the same magnitude as his master’s. Evidence had been amassed suggesting that La Chaboissière had habitually used poison to settle disagreements or to rid himself of inconvenient neighbours and it was easier to obtain a conviction for these straightforward acts of malice than to permit the commission to deliberate on the role played by Vanens in the death of the Duke of Savoy.
After being found guilty, La Chaboissière was tortured on 16 July 1682. Following his detention he had made the mistake of hinting that he was in possession of secret information which, if revealed, would save fifty lives a year. This merely ensured that under torture he was pressed more severely than would otherwise have been the case. Vainly he protested that he knew nothing of interest and implored that he should be put to death rather than having his sufferings prolonged. When he was finally taken to the Place de Grève to be hanged, it came as a relief. On the scaffold he asked the crowd to pardon him for all the scandal he had caused.41
La Chaboissière was the last person to be judged by the Chambre Ardente. On 21 July 1682 the King sealed letters patent formally disbanding the commission; its closing session took place two days later. The decision to terminate the Chamber ‘gave great joy’ to all the commissioners, ‘who were very weary of hearing those abominable matters spoken of every day’.42
* * *
The Chambre Ardente had certainly not been idle during its brief existence. In all it had held 210 sittings. It had issued 319 arrest warrants and, though a significant number of those named in these had evaded capture by fleeing Paris, 194 persons had been taken into custody. A total of 104 people had been tried by the commission for a wide range of offences. Th
e commission had passed thirty-six death sentences and thirty-four executions had been carried out, with offenders being variously burnt alive, decapitated, hanged, strangled or broken on the wheel. Besides this, two people had died under torture. In a time when prison mortality was exceptionally high it was inevitable that there had also been deaths in custody. In the early months of 1682, for example, the priest François Mariette and the divineress Catherine Trianon, both key figures in the case against Mme de Montespan, had died.
The Chamber had given absolute discharges to sixteen individuals who had come before it. Seventeen offenders had been banished and a further insignificant number fined or admonished. Yet despite all this activity, by no means all those arrested had been brought to trial.43
Having reviewed every case, La Reynie drew up a list of forty persons who could safely be released without further action being taken. Even after this, however, numerous prisoners remained at Vincennes. Twenty of these had in fact been judged by the Chamber and had only been given mild sentences. La Poignard, who la Joly claimed had sacrificed her nephew, came into this category, as did the herbalist Maître Pierre. He had been sentenced to a mere six months in prison, but because he was considered a menace to society he was kept in confinement for the rest of his life.44
The giddy Mme Vertemart was placed in permanent detention for slightly different reasons. She had been taken into custody for having gone to la Voisin in hopes of being freed from her husband. Subsequently it had been claimed that Mme Voisin had sought to place her in Mme de Montespan’s household and after la Vertemart had been questioned about this she had deduced that grave suspicions were being entertained about Mme de Montespan. At one point she claimed Lesage had once told her that Mme de Montespan was in league with la Voisin and he feared for the consequences.45 It was considered essential that she was given no chance to repeat such statements.