It is very rare that a fugitive galley-slave escapes with any intention of amendment; most frequently the aim is to gain the capital, and then put in practice the vicious lessons acquired at the Bagnes, which, like most of our prisons, are schools in which they perfect themselves in the art of appropriating to themselves the property of another. Nearly all celebrated robbers only become expert after passing some time at the galleys. Some have undergone five or six sentences before they become thorough scoundrels; such as the famous Victor Desbois, and his comrade Mongenet, called Le Tambour (Drummer), who during various visits to Paris comitted a vast many of those robberies on which people love to descant as proofs of boldness and address.
These two men, who for many years were sent away with every chain, and as frequently escaped, were once more back again in Paris; the police got information of it, and I received the order to search for them. All testified that they had acquaintances with other robbers no less formidable than themselves. A music mistress, whose son, called Noel with the Spectacles (Noel aux bèsicles) a celebrated robber, was suspected of harbouring these thieves. Madame Noel was a well-educated woman and an admirable musician; she was esteemed a most accomplished performer by the middle class of tradespeople, who employed her to give lessons to their daughters. She was well known in the Marais and the Quartier Saint-Denis, where the polish of her manners, the elegance of her language, the gentility of her dress, and that indescribable air of superiority which the reverses of fortune can never entirely destroy, gave rise to the current belief that she was a member of one of those numerous families to whom the Revolution had only left its hauteur and its regrets.
To those who heard and saw her without being acquainted, madame Noel was a most interesting little woman; and besides, there was something touching in her situation; it was a mystery, and no one knew what had become of her husband. Some said that she had been early left in a state of widowhood; others that she had been forsaken; and a third affirmed that she was a victim of seduction. I know not which of these conjectures approaches nearest to the truth, but I know very well that madame Noel was a little brunette whose sparkling eye and roguish look were softened down by that gentle demeanour which seemed to increase the sweetness of her smile and the tone of her voice, which was in the highest degree musical. There was a mixture of the angel and demon in her face, but the latter perhaps preponderated; for time had developed those traits which characterise evil thoughts.
Madame Noel was obliging and good, but only towards those individuals who were at issue with justice; she received them as the mother of a soldier would welcome the comrade of her son. To ensure a welcome with her, it was enough to belong to the same "regiment" as Noel with the Spectacles; and then, as much for love of him and from inclination perhaps, she would do all in her power to aid, and was consequently looked upon as a "mother of robbers." At her house they found shelter; it was she who provided for all their wants; she carried her complaisance so far as to seek "jobs of work" for them; and when a passport was indispensably requisite for their safety, she was not quiet until by some means she had succeeded in procuring one. Madame Noel had many friends among her own sex, and it was generally in one of their names that the passport was obtained. A powerful mixture of oxygenated muriatic acid obliterated the writing; and the description of the gentleman who required it, as well as the name which it suited his purpose to assume, replaced the feminine description. Madame Noel had generally by her a supply of these accommodating passports, which were filled according to circumstances, and the wants of the party requiring such assistance.
All the galley-slaves were children of madame Noel, but those were the most in favour who could give her any account of her son; for them her devotion was boundless; her house was open to all fugitives, who made it their rendezvous; and there must be gratitude even amongst them, for the police were informed that they came frequently to mother Noel's for the pleasure of seeing her only; she was the confidante of all their plans, all their adventures, all their fears; in fact, they communicated all unreservedly, and never had cause to regret their reliance on her fidelity.
Mother Noel had never seen me; my features were quite unknown to her, although she had frequently heard of my name. There was then no difficulty in presenting myself before her, without giving her any cause for alarm; but to get her to point out to me the hiding place of the men whom I sought to detect, was the end I aimed at, and I felt that it would be impossible to attain it without much skill and management. At first, I resolved on passing myself off as a fugitive galley-slave; but it was necessary to borrow the name of some thief, whom her son or his comrades had mentioned to her in advantageous terms. Moreover, a little resemblance was positively requisite, and I endeavoured to recollect if there were not one of the galley-slaves whom I knew who had been associated with Noel with the Spectacles, and I could not remember one of my age, or whose person and features at all resembled mine. At last, by dint of much effort of memory I recalled to mind one Germain, alias Royer, alias "the Captain," who had been an intimate acquaintance of Noel's, and although our similarity was very slight, yet I determined on personating him.
Germain, as well as myself, had often escaped from the Bagnes, and that was the only point of resemblance between us: he was about my age, but a smaller framed man; he had dark brown hair, mine was light; he was thin, and I tolerably stout; his complexion was sallow, and mine fair, with a very clear skin; besides, Germain had an excessively long nose, took a vast deal of snuff, which begriming his nostrils outside, and stuffing them up within, gave him a peculiarly nasal tone of voice.
I had much to do in personating Germain; but the difficulty did not deter me: my hair cut, a là mode des Bagnes, was dyed black, as well as my beard, after it had attained a growth of eight days; to embrown my countenance I washed it with walnut liquor; and to perfect the imitation, I garnished my upper lip thickly with a kind of coffee grounds, which I plastered on by means of gum arabic, and thus became as nasal in my twang as Germain himself. My feet were doctored with equal care; I made blisters on them by rubbing in a certain composition of which I had obtained the recipe at Brest. I also made the marks of the fetters; and when all my toilet was finished, dressed myself in the suitable garb, I had neglected nothing which could complete the metamorphosis, neither the shoes nor the marks of those horrid letters G A L. The costume was perfect; and the only thing wanting was a hundred of those companionable insects which people the solitudes of poverty, and which were, I believe, together with locusts and toads, one of the seven plagues of old Egypt. I procured some for money; and as soon as they were a little accustomed to their new domicile, which was speedily the case, I directed my steps towards the residence of madame Noel, in the Rue Ticquetonne.
I arrived there, and knocking at the door, she opened it: a glance convincing her how matters stood with me, she desired me to enter, and on finding myself alone with her, I told her who I was. "Ah, my poor lad," she cried, "there is no occasion to tell me where you have come from; I am sure you must be dying with hunger?"—"Oh yes," I answered, "I am indeed hungry; I have tasted nothing for twenty-four hours." Instantly, without further question, she went out, and returned with a dish of hog's puddings and a bottle of wine, which she placed before me. I did not eat, I actually devoured; I stuffed myself, and all had disappeared without my saying a word between my first mouthful and my last. Mother Noel was delighted at my appetite, and when the cloth was removed she gave me a dram. "Ah, maman," I exclaimed, embracing her, "you restore me to life; Noel told me how good and kind you were:" and I then began to give her a statement of how I had left her son eighteen days before, and gave her information of all the prisoners in whom she felt interested. The details were so true and well known, that she could have no idea that I was an impostor.
"You must have heard of me," I continued; "I have gone through many an enterprize, and experienced many a reverse. I am called Germain, or the Captain; you must know my name?"
"Yes, yes, my friend," she said, "I know you well; my son and his friends have told me of your misfortunes; welcome, welcome, my dear captain. But heavens! what a state you are in; you must not remain in such a plight. I see you are infested with those wretched tormenting beasts who; but I will get you a change of linen, and contrive something as a comfortable dress for you."
I expressed my gratitude to madame Noel; and when I saw a good opportunity, without giving cause for the slightest suspicion, I asked what had become of Victor Desbois and his comrade Mongenet. "Desbois and Le Tambour? Ah! my dear, do not mention them, I beg of you," she replied; "that rogue Vidocq has given them very great uneasiness; since one Joseph (Joseph Longueville, an old police inspector), whom they have twice met in the streets, told them that there would soon be a search in this quarter, they have been compelled to cut and run, to avoid being taken."
"What," cried I with a disappointed air, "are they no longer in Paris?"
"Oh, they are not very far distant," replied mother Noel; "they have not quitted the environs of the 'great village' (Paris); I dare say we shall soon see them, for I trust they will speedily pay me a visit. I think they will be delighted to find you here."
"Oh, I assure you," said I, "that they will not be more delighted at the meeting than myself; and if you can write to them, I am sure they would eagerly send for me to join them."
"If I knew where they were," replied mother Noel, "I would go myself and seek for them to please you; but I do not know their retreat, and the best thing for us to do is to be patient and await their arrival."
In my quality of a new comer, I excited all madame Noel's compassion and solicitude, and she attended to nothing but me. "Are you known to Vidocq, and his two bull-dogs Lévesque and Compère?" she enquired.
"Alas! yes," was my reply; "they have caught me twice."
"In that case then, be on your guard: Vidocq is often disguised; he assumes characters, costumes, and shapes, to get hold of unfortunates like yourself."
We conversed together for two hours, when madame Noel offered me a foot bath, which I accepted; and when it was prepared, I took off my shoes and stockings, on which she discovered my wounded feet, and said with a most commiserating tone and manner. "How I pity you; what you must suffer! Why did you not tell me of this at first, you deserve to be scolded for it." And whilst thus reproaching me, she examined my feet; and then pricking the blisters, drew a piece of worsted through each, and anointed my feet with a salve which she assured me would have the effect of speedily curing them.
There was something of antique custom in these cares of kind hospitality; and all that was needed to the poetry of the action was, that I should have been some illustrious traveller, and madame Noel a noble stranger. The bath concluded, she brought me some clean linen; and as she thought of all that was needful, added a razor, recommending me to shave. "I shall then see," she added, "about buying you some workman's clothes, as that is the best disguise for men who wish to pass unnoticed; and besides, good luck will turn up, and then you will get yourself some new ones."
As soon as I was thoroughly cleansed, mother Noel conducted me to a sleeping room, a small apartment which served as the workshop for false keys, the entrance to which was concealed by several gowns hanging from a row of pegs. "Here," said she, "is a bed in which your friends have slept three or four times; and you need not fear that the police will hunt you out; you may sleep secure as a dormouse."
"I am really in want of sleep," I replied, and begged her permission to take some repose, on which she left me to myself. Three hours afterwards I awoke, and on getting up we renewed our conference. It was necessary to be armed at all points to deceive madame Noel; there was not a trick or custom of the bagnes with which she was not thoroughly informed; she knew not only the names of all the robbers whom she had seen, but was acquainted with every particular of the life of a great many others; and related with enthusiasm anecdotes of the most noted, particularly of her son, for whom she had as much veneration as love.
"The dear boy, you would be delighted to see him?" said I.
"Yes, yes, overjoyed,"
"Well, it is a happiness you will soon enjoy; for Noel has made arrangements for an escape, and is now only awaiting the propitious moment."
Madame Noel was happy in the expectation of seeing her son, and shed tears of tenderness at the very thoughts of it. I will own that I was affected, and for a moment wavered if for once I would not betray my duties as a police agent; but when I reflected again on the crimes committed by the Noel family, and considered what was due to the interests of society, I remained firm and determined in my resolution to go through with my enterprise at all risks.
In the course of conversation, mother Noel asked me if I had any affair (plan of robbery) in contemplation; and after having offered to procure me one, in case I was not provided, she questioned me on my skill in fabricating keys. I told her I was as adroit as Fossard. "If that be the case," she rejoined, "I am easy, and you shall be soon furnished; for as you are so clever, I will go and buy at the ironmonger's a key which you can fit to my safety lock, so that you will have ingress and egress whenever you require it."
I expressed my feelings of obligation for so great a proof of her kindness; and as it was growing late, I went to bed reflecting on the mode of getting away from this lair without running the risk of being assassinated, if perchance any of the villains whom I vas seeking, should arrive before I had taken the necessary precautions.
I did not sleep, and arose as soon as I heard madame Noel lighting her fire; she said I was an early riser, and that she would go and procure me what I wanted. A moment afterwards she brought me a key not cut into wards, and gave me files and a small vice, which I fixed on my bed; and as soon as my tools were in readiness, I began my work in presence of my hostess, who seeing that I was perfectly conversant with the business, complimented me on my skill; and what she most admired was the expedition of my work, for in fact, in less than four hours, I had perfected a most workmanlike key, which I tried, and it fitted almost accurately. A few touches of the file completed the instrument; and, like the rest, I had the means of unobstructed entrance whenever I wished to visit the house.
I was madame Noel's boarder; and, after dinner, I told her I was inclined to take a turn in the dusk, that I might find whether "a job" I contemplated was yet feasible, and she approved the suggestion, at the same time recommending me to use all caution. "That thief of a Vidocq," she observed, "is a thorn in one's path; mind him;—and, if I were you, before I made any attempts, I would wait until my feet were well." "I shall not go far," I replied; "nor stay away long." This assurance of a speedy return seemed to quiet her fears. "Well then, go," she said; and I went out limping.
So far all succeeded to my most sanguine wishes; it was impossible to stand better with mother Noel; but, by remaining in her house, who would guarantee that I should not be knocked on the head? Might not two or three galley-slaves arrive together, recognize me, and attack me? Then farewell to all my plottings; and it was incumbent, that, without losing the fruit of my friendship with mother Noel, I should prepare myself for the contingent danger. It would have been the height of imprudence to have given her cause to think that I had any motives for avoiding contact with her guests, and I consequently endeavoured so to lead her on, that she should herself suggest to me the necessity of quitting her house; that is, that she should advise me no longer to think of sleeping in her domicile.
I had observed that madame Noel was very intimate with a fruit-seller who lived in the house, and I sent to this woman one of my agents named Manceau, whom I charged to ask her secretly, and yet with a want of skill, for some accounts of madame Noel. I had dictated the questions, and was the more certain that the fruit-woman would not fail to communicate the particulars, as I had desired my man to beg her to observe secresy.
The event proved that I was not deceived;—no sooner had my agent fulfilled his mission, than the fruit-woman hastened to madame Noel with an account of what had passed; who, in her turn, lost no time in telling me. On the look-out at the steps of the door of her officious neighbour, as soon as she saw me, she came to me, and, without further preface, desired me to follow her, which I did; and, on reaching the Place des Victoires, she stopped, and looking about her to be assured that no one was in hearing, she told me what had passed:—"So," said she, in conclusion, "you see, my poor Germain, that it would not be prudent for you to sleep at my house; you must even be cautious how you approach it by day." Mother Noel had no idea that this circumstance, which she bewailed so greatly, was of my own planning; and, that I might remove all suspicion from her mind, I pretended to be more vexed at it than she was, and cursed and swore bitterly at that blackguard Vidocq, who would not leave us at peace. I deprecated the necessity to which I was reduced, of finding a shelter out of Paris, and took leave of madame Noel, who, wishing me good luck and a speedy return, put a thirty-sous-piece into my hand.
I knew that Desbois and Mongenet were expected; and I was also aware that there were comers and goers who visited the house, whether madame Noel was there or not; and she was often absent, giving music lessons in the city. It was important that I should know these gentry; and to achieve this, I disguised several of my auxiliaries, and stationed them at the corners of the street, where, mixing with the errand boys and messengers, their presence excited no suspicion.
These precautions taken, that I might testify all due appearance of fear, I allowed two days to pass before I again visited madame Noel; and this period having elapsed, I went one evening to her house, accompanied by a young man, whom I introduced as the brother of a female with whom I had once lived; and who, having met me accidentally in Paris, had given me an asylum. This young man was a secret agent, but I took care to tell mother Noel that he had my fullest confidence, and that she might consider him as my second self; and, as he was not known to the spies, I had chosen him to be my messenger to her whenever I did not judge it prudent to show myself. "Henceforward," I added, "he will be our go-between, and will come every two or three days, that I may have information of you and your friends."
"I'faith," said mother Noel, "you have lost a pleasure; for, twenty minutes sooner, and you would have seen a lady of your acquaintance here."
"Ah! who was it?"
" Mongenet's sister."
"Oh! indeed; she has often seen me with her brother."
"Yes; when I mentioned you, she described you as exactly as possible;—'a lanky chap,' said she, 'with his nose always grimed with snuff.'"
Madame Noel deeply regretted that I had not arrived before Mongenet's sister had departed; but certainly not so much as I rejoiced at my narrow escape from an interview which would have destroyed all my projects; for, if this woman knew Germain, she also knew Vidocq; and it was an impossibility that she could have mistaken one for the other, so great was the difference between us! Although I had altered my features so as to deceive, yet the resemblance which, in description, seemed exact, would not stand the test of a critical examination, and particularly the reminiscences of intimacy. Mother Noel then gave me a very useful warning, when she informed me that Mongenet's sister was a very frequent visitor at her house. From thenceforward I resolved that this female should never catch a glimpse of my countenance; and, to avoid meeting with her, whenever I visited madame Noel, I sent my pretended brother-in-law first, who, when she was not there, had instructions to let me know it, by sticking a wafer on the window. At this signal I entered, and my aide-de-camp betook himself to his post in the neighbourhood, to guard against any disagreeable surprise. Not very far distant were other auxiliaries, to whom I had confided mother Noel's key, that they might come to my succour in case of danger; for, from one instant to another, I might fall suddenly amongst a gang of fugitives, or some of the galley-slaves might recognize and attack me, and then a blow of my fist against a square of glass in the window was the signal which was to denote my need of assistance, to equalize the contending parties.
Thus were my schemes concerted, and the finale was at hand. It was on a Tuesday, and a letter from the men I was in quest of, announced their intended arrival on the Friday following; a day which I intended should be for them a black Friday. At the first dawn I betook myself to a cabaret in the vicinity, and, that they might have no motive for watching me, supposing, as was their custom, that they should traverse the street several times up and down before they entered Madame Noel's domicile, I first sent my pretended brother-in-law, who returned soon afterwards, and told me that Mongenet's sister was not there, and that I might safely enter. "You are not deceiving me?" said I to my agent, whose tone appeared altered and embarrassed, and fixing on him one of those looks which penetrate the very heart's core, I thought I observed one of those ill-suppressed contractions of the muscles of the face which accompany a premeditated lie: and then, quick as lightning, the thought came over me that I was betrayed; that my agent was a traitor. We were in a private room, and, without a moment's hesitation, I grasped his throat with violence, and told him, in presence of his comrades, that I was informed of his perfidy, and that if he did not instantly confess all, I would shoot him on the spot. Dismayed at my penetration and determined manner, he stammered out a few words of excuse, and falling on his knees, confessed that he had discovered all to mother Noel.
This baseness, had I not thus detected it, would probably have cost me my life, but I did not think of any personal resentment; it was only the interest of society which I cared for, and which I regretted to see wrecked when so near port. The traitor, Manceau, was put in confinement, and, young as he was, having many old offences to expiate, was sent to Bicêtre, and then to the isle of Oleron, where he terminated his career. It may be conjectured that the fugitives did not return again to the Rue Ticquetonne; but they were, notwithstanding, apprehended a short time afterwards.
Mother Noel did not forgive the trick I had played her; and, to satisfy her revenge, she, one day, had all her goods taken away; and when this had been effected, went out without closing her door, and returned crying out that she had been robbed. The neighbours were made witnesses, a declaration was made before a commissary, and mother Noel pointed me out as the thief; because, she said, I had a key of her apartments. The accusation was a grave one, and she was instantly sent to the prefecture of police, and the next day I received the information. My justification was not difficult, for the préfet, as well as M. Henry, saw through the imposture; and we managed so well, that mother Noel's property was discovered, proof was obtained of the falsity of the charge, and, to give her time for repentance, she was sentenced for six months to St Lazarre. Such was the issue and the consequences of an enterprize, in which I had not failed to use all precaution; and I have often achieved success in affairs, in which arrangements had been made, not so skilfully concerted or so ably executed.