The Book of Were-Wolves by Sabine Baring-Gould (free ebook novel .TXT) 📖

>servants if they are untrue to their master.”

 

“Messire, I see we must put you on the rack, or nothing will be got

from you.”

 

“Hola! I appeal to his grace the Duke of Brittany, and ask an

adjournment, that I may take advice on the charges brought against me,

which I have denied, and which I deny still.”

 

“Well, I shall adjourn the case till the 25th of this month, that you

may be well prepared to meet the accusations.”

 

On his way back to prison, the marshal passed Henriet and Pontou as

they were being conducted to the court. Henriet pretended not to see

his master, but Pontou burst into tears on meeting him. The marshal

held out his hand, and Pontou kissed it affectionately.

 

“Remember what I have done for you, and be faithful servants,” said

Gilles de Retz. Henriet recoiled from him with a shudder, and the

marshal passed on.

 

“I shall speak,” whispered Henriet; “for we have another master beside

our poor master of Retz, and we shall soon be with the heavenly one.”

 

The president ordered the clerk to read again the requisition of the

lieutenant, that the two presumed accomplices of Gilles de Retz might

be informed of the charges brought against their master. Henriet burst

into tears, trembled violently, and cried out that he would tell all.

Pontou, alarmed, tried to hinder his companion, and said that Henriet

was touched in his head, and that what he was about to say would be

the ravings of insanity.

 

Silence was imposed upon him.

 

“I will speak out,” continued Henriet and yet I dare not speak of the

horrors which I know have taken place, before that image of my Lord

Christ; “and he pointed tremblingly to a large crucifix above the seat

of the judge.

 

“Henriet.” moaned Pontou, squeezing his hand, “you will destroy

yourself as well as your master.”

 

Pierre de l’Hospital rose, and the figure of our Redeemer was solemnly

veiled.

 

Henriet, who had great difficulty in overcoming his agitation, than

began his revelations.

 

The following is the substance of them:—

 

On leaving the university of Angers, he had taken the situation of

reader in the house of Gilles de Retz. The marshal took a liking to

him, and made him his chamberlain and confidant.

 

On the occasion of the Sire de la Suze, brother of the Sire de Retz,

taking possession of the castle of Chantoncé, Charles de Soenne, who

had arrived at Chantoncé, assured Henriet that he had found in the

oubliettes of a tower a number of dead children, some headless, others

frightfully mutilated. Henriet then thought that this was but a

calumny invented by the Sire de la Suze.

 

But when, some while after, the Sire de Retz retook the castle of

Chantoncé and had ceded it to the Duke of Brittany, he one evening

summoned Henriet, Pontou, and a certain Petit Robin to his room; the

two latter were already deep in the secrets of their master. But

before confiding anything to Henriet, De Retz made him take a solemn

oath never to reveal what he was about to tell him. The oath taken,

the Sire de Retz, addressing the three, said that on the morrow an

officer of the duke would take possession of the castle in the name of

the duke, and that it was necessary, before this took place, that a

certain well should be emptied of children’s corpses, and that their

bodies should be put into boxes and transported to Machecoul.

 

Henriet, Pontou, and Petit Robin went together, furnished with ropes

and hooks, to the tower where were the corpses. They toiled all night

in removing the half-decayed bodies, and with them they filled three

large cases, which they sent by a boat down the Loire to Machecoul,

where they were reduced to ashes.

 

Henriet counted thirty-six children’s heads, but there were more

bodies than heads. This night’s work, he said, bad produced a profound

impression on his imagination, and he was constantly haunted with a

vision of these heads rolling as in a game of skittles, and clashing

with a mournful wail. Henriet soon began to collect children for his

master, and was present whilst he massacred them. They were murdered

invariably in one room at Machecoul. The marshal used to bathe in

their blood; he was fond of making Gilles do Sillé, Pontou, or Henriet

torture them, and he experienced intense pleasure in seeing them in

their agonies. But his great passion was to welter in their blood. His

servants would stab a child in the jugular vein, and let the blood

squirt over him. The room was often steeped in blood. When the

horrible deed was done, and the child was dead, the marshal would be

filled with grief for what he had done, and would toss weeping and

praying on a bed, or recite fervent prayers and litanies on his knees,

whilst his servants washed the floor, and burned in the huge fireplace

the bodies of the murdered children. With the bodies were burned the

clothes and everything that had belonged to the little victims.

 

An insupportable odour filled the room, but the Maréchal do Retz

inhaled it with delight.

 

Henriet acknowledged that he had seen forty children put to death in

this manner, and he was able to give an account of several, so that it

was possible to identify them with the children reported to be lost.

 

“It is quite impossible,” said the lieutenant, who had been given the

cue to do all that was possible to save the marshal—“It is impossible

that bodies could be burned in a chamber fireplace.”

 

“It was done, for all that, messire,” replied Henriet. “The fireplace

was very large, both at the hotel Suze, and also at Machecoul; we

piled up great faggots and logs, and laid the dead children among

them. In a few hours the operation was complete, and we flung the

ashes out of the window into the moat.”

 

Henriet remembered the case of the two sons of Hamelin; he said that,

whilst the one child was being tortured, the other was on its knees

sobbing and praying to God, till its own turn came.

 

“What you have said concerning the excesses of Messire de Retz,”

exclaimed the lieutenant du procureur, “seems to be pure invention,

and destitute of all probability. The greatest monsters of iniquity

never committed such crimes, except perhaps some Cæsars of old Rome.”

 

“Messire, it was the acts of these Cæsars that my Lord of Retz desired

to imitate. I used to read to him the chronicles of Suetonius, and

Tacitus, in which their cruelties are recorded. He used to delight in

hearing of them, and he said that it gave him greater pleasure to hack

off a child’s head than to assist at a banquet. Sometimes he would

seat himself on the breast of a little one, and with a knife sever the

head from the body at a single blow; sometimes he cut the throat half

through very gently, that the child might languish, and he would wash

his hands and his beard in its blood. Sometimes he had all the limbs

chopped off at once from the trunk; at other times he ordered us to

hang the infants till they were nearly dead, and then take them down

and cut their throats. I remember having brought to him three little

girls who were asking charity at the castle gates. He bade me cut

their throats whilst he looked on. André Bricket found another little

girl crying on the steps of the house at Vannes because she had lost

her mother. He brought the little thing—it was but a babe—in his

arms to my lord, and it was killed before him. Pontou and I had to

make away with the body. We threw it down a privy in one of the

towers, but the corpse caught on a nail in the outer wall, so that it

would be visible to all who passed. Pontou was let down by a rope, and

he disengaged it with great difficulty.”

 

“How many children do you estimate that the Sire de Retz and his

servants have killed?”

 

“The reckoning is long. I, for my part, confess to having killed

twelve with my own hand, by my master’s orders, and I have brought him

about sixty. I knew that things of the kind went on before I was

admitted to the secret; for the castle of Machecoul had been occupied

a short while by the Sire do la Sage. My lord recovered it speedily,

for he knew that there were many children’s corpses hidden in a

hayloft. There were forty there quite dry and black as coal, because

they had been charred. One of the women of Madame de Retz came by

chance into the loft and saw the corpses. Roger de Briqueville wanted

to kill her, but the maréchal would not let him.”

 

“Have you nothing more to declare?

 

“Nothing. I ask Pontou, my friend, to corroborate what I have said.”

 

This deposition, so circumstantial and detailed, produced on the

judges a profound impression of horror. Human imagination at this time

had not penetrated such mysteries of refined cruelty. Several times,

as Henriet spake, the president had shown his astonishment and

indignation by signing himself with the cross. Several times his face

had become scarlet, and his eyes had fallen; he had pressed his hand

to his brow, to assure himself that he was not labouring under a

hideous dream, and a quiver of horror had run through his whole frame.

 

Pontou had taken no part in the revelation of Henriet; but when the

latter appealed to him he raised his head, looked sadly round the

court, and sighed.

 

“Etienne Cornillant, alias Pontou, I command you in the name of God

and of justice, to declare what you know.”

 

This injunction of Pierre do l’Hospital remained unresponded to, and

Pontou seemed to strengthen himself in his resolution not to accuse

his master.

 

But Henriet, flinging himself into the arms of his accomplice,

implored him, as he valued his soul, no longer to harden his heart to

the calls of God; but to bring to light the crimes he had committed

along with the Sire do Retz.

 

The lieutenant du procureur, who hitherto had endeavoured to extenuate

or discredit the charges brought against Gilles do Retz, tried a last

expedient to counterbalance the damaging confessions of Henriet, and

to withhold Pontou from giving way.

 

“You have heard, monseigneur,” said he to the president, “the

atrocities which have been acknowledged by Henriet, and you, as I do,

consider them to be pure inventions of the aforesaid, made out of

bitter hatred and envy with the purpose of ruining his master. I

therefore demand that Henriet should be put on the rack, that he may

be brought to give the lie to his former statements.”

 

“You forget,” replied de l’Hospital, “that the rack is for those who

do not confess, and not for those who freely acknowledge their

crimes. Therefore I order the second accused, Etienne Cornillant,

alias Pontou, to be placed on the rack if he continues silent. Pontou!

will you speak or will you not?”

 

“Monseigneur, he will speak!” exclaimed Henriet. Oh, Pontou, dear

friend, resist not God any more.”

 

“Well then, messeigneurs,” said Pontou, with emotion; “I will satisfy

you; I cannot defend my poor lord against the allegations of Henriet,

who has confessed all through dread of eternal damnation.”

 

He then fully substantiated all the statements of the other, adding

other facts of the same character, known only to himself.

 

Notwithstanding the avowal of Pontou and Henriet, the adjourned trial

was not