Vidocq was still bent on escape. An obstacle to his plan existed in his chain companion, of whose discretion he was afraid. The man was still young, but already half an idiot from misery and brutal treatment. It was the rule to blame the remaining half of a couple, when the other had got away, and Vidocq knew this man, to avoid punishment, would betray the projected escape. It was necessary to be coupled afresh, and Vidocq, feigning sickness, was laid by for a few days, and then given another partner, who had no fears and was full of good-will. He strongly advised the would-be fugitive to make his move at once, before the sergeants had come to know his face. He helped Vidocq, who was in funds, to buy a disguise, a suit of sailor’s clothing, which was put on the morning of the third attempt, underneath his convict’s frock, and was undetected as the gang passed out of the gate to labor at dawn. His fetters, which he had sawn through, only hung by threads, but these also escaped notice; and on reaching the basin where the works were in progress, Vidocq slipped aside behind a pile of planks, where he made a rapid change, and walked off towards the wicket gate, giving upon the town. Altogether ignorant of the proper way, after threading many intricate streets and turning continually right and left, he luckily reached the main gate of the city, where a veteran guard was posted, who had the credit of being able to tell a convict at a look, and penetrate any disguise. A telltale hang of one leg, that to which the chain has been fastened, is an unfailing sign, but Vidocq had not been coupled long enough to show this. He played his part very coolly. He was carrying a jug of buttermilk, bought on purpose, and placing this upon the ground he halted in front of the warder, and carelessly asked for a light for his pipe. This self-possession served him in good stead. He passed safely through, and three-quarters of an hour elapsed before the three guns giving the alarm were fired. He still held on bravely, and all would have gone well, had not two gensdarmes suddenly appeared at the turn of the road, and took him into custody, but not as an escaped convict. With ready wit Vidocq gave himself up as a deserter from the navy, the Cocarde frigate then in the roadstead of St. Malo, near at hand,—to which he thought to be returned and to escape from the escort on the way.

After prolonged detention Vidocq was started for the coast, when he escaped and passed through many exciting adventures. For a part of the time he wandered about the country disguised as a Sister of Mercy. Then he joined forces with a party of escaped convicts, who had recognised him. Then he became a cattle drover, a business in which he earned good wages, and which took him to Paris. Danger threatened in the capital, and he worked north to Arras, in his own country, and on to Brussels and Rotterdam, where he was pressed into the Dutch navy. He claimed release as a Frenchman born, and was speedily identified as the deserter from the Cocarde. He was carried back into France as a prisoner, and his fate seemed so uncertain that he thought it best to proclaim himself Vidocq, an escaped convict from Brest. He was removed to Bicêtre on a second visit, and to be transferred for a second time on the chain to one of the bagnes. His second journey, which took him south, for Toulon was now his destination, was a repetition of that already described,—the most interesting feature in it being his companionship with a very noted criminal of that period, Jossas, better known as the Marquis Sainte Armande de Faral, one of the most celebrated robbers of Paris. There was very little of the convict about this prosperous thief. Although fettered, he wore a smart travelling costume, knitted pantaloons of silver gray and a waistcoat and cap trimmed with Astrakan fur, the whole covered with a large cloak lined with crimson velvet. He had ample funds, and fared sumptuously every evening, when he treated several of his comrades at dinner. He spent much time daily on his toilet, and was provided with a splendid dressing-case filled with all necessaries. His line of business was that of thefts by means of false keys, and he showed extraordinary cleverness in getting impressions to enable him to open the locks of doors and safes.

On reaching Chalons by road the gangs were transferred to large boats, on which they dropped down the Rhône to Lyons, then on as far as Avignon, where they landed and recommenced the march. Vidocq and others, who had been guilty of escape, were condemned to the “double chain” as it was called. This meant unbroken confinement in one part of the prison, where they were chained to the guard bed, which they never left except for a short period of exercise. The worst characters in custody were collected here. Vidocq found himself side by side with several celebrities, notably revolutionaries who had robbed the royal wardrobe, a gigantic theft of Crown jewels and priceless treasures valued in all at half a million pound sterling, among which was the famous Regent diamond, sometimes called the “Pitt,” which had been brought from India by Mr. Pitt, Governor of Madras. There was also a member of the Cornu family, the head of which had long terrorised the people of Lombardy. Disguised as a horse-dealer he frequented country fairs and attacked merchants who were carrying large sums of money. He was greatly assisted by his third wife, who ingratiated herself with travellers and led them to their death. This family consisted of three sons and two daughters, all of them habituated to crime from their earliest childhood. The youngest girl, Florentine, showed some repugnance to adopt the criminal profession. She was cured by being compelled to carry in her apron, for two leagues, the decapitated head of a murdered farmer. So rapid is the degeneration of those who once go astray that this same Florentine, when her relatives joined a band of chauffeurs, for her part was to apply the lighted candle to the feet of their victims, when they refused to confess the hiding-place of their valuables. The brother, who was confined at Toulon with Vidocq, carried on the assumed business of a journeyman, and was sentenced to the double chain when caught in the act of committing a burglary.

Vidocq gained the good-will of his guardians by inducing his companions to pursue prison industries, and the prison of the double chain became a busy workshop, where children’s toys and other articles were manufactured in large quantities. The trade was profitable, and supplied the funds needed for undertaking a fresh escape. Vidocq collected materials for disguise—a wig and black whiskers and an old pair of boots. For the rest he trusted to the overcoat, hat, cane and gloves of the prison surgeon, who was in the habit of leaving these unguarded within Vidocq’s reach. The first attempt made in this disguise was a failure, the second was more successful. It had been arranged with the convict, Jossas, already mentioned, who had provided him with the plain clothes which he put on beneath his crimson frock. The rivet in his irons had been removed, and had been replaced by a movable screw, and one morning, when issuing forth to labor, Vidocq slipped behind the pile of wood, quickly threw off his red shirt and, extracting the screw, freed himself from his fetters. He ran at top speed to the basin, where a frigate was in repair, and jumped into a boat on the point of starting from the town. Vidocq seized an oar and pulled manfully towards Toulon, where he landed and made for the Italian gate. Here he was refused admittance. The production of a pass, or green card issued by the Magistrate, was demanded, and while he was still parleying, the three reports of the guns announcing his escape were heard. He forthwith left the gate and, avoiding the crowd, betook himself to the ramparts, where he was accosted by a friendly girl, who had penetrated his disguise, but who sympathised with the convict fugitive. She promised him a green ticket, which she would borrow from her lover; but the lover was absent from home, and recapture seemed imminent, when a funeral procession came past. The girl advised him to mix amongst the mourners. This he did, and thus passed the gate. Presently he gained the high-road which led into the open country. It would be tedious to follow the fugitive in his wanderings, or to detail the narrow chances he constantly ran of being captured. His story as a refugee was that of a hundred others of his class, who had broken prison and infested all parts of France. As a convict turned thief catcher his story is vastly different and of vastly greater interest; as will be seen in the following pages.

CHAPTER IV
THE FIRST GREAT DETECTIVE

France overrun with fugitive galley-slaves—Life and property constantly in danger—Vidocq offers his services to the cause of law and order—M. Henri refuses to accept his cooperation—Vidocq taken again, and again offers M. Henri his services—A compact finally made with him—Becomes a “mouton” and renders very useful service—Brings about the capture of the notorious receiver—Routs out a robbers’ home kept by Mother Noel—Does good work in the discovery and arrest of Fossard and others who robbed the Royal Library of a great collection of old coins and medals—Vidocq, the father of the French Detective Police—His portrait—A man of unexampled courage, fertility of resource and great physical strength—The “police provocative,” an invention of the day—The so-called conspiracy of Colmar—Saumur and the betrayal of La Bédoyère.

The state of France during the period which has just been described was deplorable. There was little security for property, and life was constantly in danger. Whole bands of fugitive galley-slaves were at large, pursuing their evil courses with the utmost daring and effrontery. They were apprehended from time to time, but were acquitted, when arraigned, for want of evidence; witnesses as to identity were not forthcoming, and unless caught red-handed there were no proofs of guilt. To surprise them and take them into custody knowledge of their domicile was essential; and they were so cunning and evasive that it was not easy to ascertain this fact. It was under these circumstances that justice in France, in its eagerness to check these depredations and to protect the deserving, industrious population, secretly sought the aid of spies and informers willing to work against the criminal fraternity. Vidocq was one of the first to go over. He was weary of the life he led, the unceasing anxiety, the constant fear of recognition by old associates, the incessant blackmail to which he was subjected; and to escape re-arrest he was driven in self-defence to retaliate and offer his services to the cause of order. Matters were brought to a crisis when he was called upon to participate in a series of robberies to be perpetrated by old convicts, whose hands were already bloodstained. Vidocq, realising that whether he refused this proposal or not he must be compromised sooner or later in other infamous deeds, resolved to go in person to the Chief of Police, at that time a M. Henri, an excellent officer, who rendered eminent service in his day. Vidocq confided in the Chief, and explained his situation, saying, if his presence in Paris was tolerated and he was assured immunity from arrest, he could promise much valuable information. He could lay his hands upon great numbers of convicts at large, knowing precisely their places of residence and many of their plans. M. Henri at once declined to enter into any compact of the kind. All he would say was: “I have no objection to receiving any information. We will test it and use it for what it is worth; perhaps we may accept your services in the long run, but we can make no promises and agree to no antecedent conditions. You must take your chance.” “Under these circumstances I may consider myself already a dead man,” replied Vidocq; “for it might come out that I had given information, and my life would be forfeited.” M. Henri would not alter his decision, and dismissed Vidocq without even asking his name.

His overtures thus rejected, and himself still closely pressed by his evil associates, Vidocq passed several anxious months. His fears were verified by the certainty that the suspicions of the police were aroused, and that his house was watched. His arrest seemed imminent, and he was resolved to leave Paris without delay. But he was too late. One morning, in the small hours, a light knock came at the street door. Vidocq felt sure that he was immediately to be arrested. He dressed, and ran quickly up-stairs, got out upon the roof and hid himself behind a stack of chimneys. His surmises were correct, for the house was speedily invested by police agents, who hunted for him high and low, and found him where escape was hopeless except at the risk of breaking his neck. He was carried at once to the Prefecture and into the presence of M. Henri, who remembered him perfectly. The chief, in the interval, had changed his mind. The increase in crime had led him to believe that Vidocq might be usefully employed in laying his hands upon the worst offenders at large. Nothing was said, however, and Vidocq was removed for a third time to Bicêtre, to take his departure with the next chain gang. At Bicêtre, Vidocq wrote privately to the Chief of Police, offering his services afresh. He made no condition but that he should not be sent back to a bagne, and expressed his willingness to complete his sentence in any prison in France. M. Henri still hesitated. One argument militated against accepting Vidocq’s proposal. This was the barrenness of the results achieved by others who had promised largely and performed little. Vidocq in his own defence appealed to his good conduct when at large, his continuous efforts to earn an honest livelihood, the production of his books and correspondence and many letters, bearing witness to his probity and good character.

Vidocq was detained between Bicêtre and La Force for nearly two years, and no doubt rendered useful service as mouton, the French slang word for a spy who worms himself into the confidence of his fellow prisoners and denounces them. In this way he came upon the addresses of numbers of escaped convicts who were in prison under false names, and was able to give constant information of plots in progress for carrying out new crimes. His reports were closely examined and compared with others, so as to obtain corroboration or the reverse. They were so generally accurate that M. Henri realised the value of this unofficial assistant, and came to the conclusion that such a man would be more useful when free. He was at length released from his probationary detention. To keep up the deception and to screen him from possible suspicion and discovery by the comrades he had betrayed, he was removed from La Force in the ordinary way, handcuffed and under escort, but en route to Bicêtre was permitted to escape. He went at once into hiding, and posed amongst his friends as extraordinarily successful in avoiding recapture. Of course, he carried his life in his hands and would have been instantly sacrificed to the vengeance of those he betrayed, had he been found out. But no one doubted him. He enjoyed unlimited confidence, and was always in high favor with the thieves and bandits, among whom he constantly lived. He was at home in all the lowest dens of Paris, and was a trusted member of the criminal fraternity, all of whom he knew intimately, their favorite haunts and whereabouts and the schemes in which they were engaged. He was frequently invited to join in their depredations and seldom refused, but always carefully avoided taking part in them by failing at the appointed rendezvous or inventing some flimsy excuse for holding aloof. The strange fact is emphasised by Vidocq, that the dangerous classes are singularly simple and unsuspicious. They seemed to take arrest almost as a matter of course, and seldom paused to inquire, when once in custody, how or through whom they had been taken. No one blamed Vidocq, who was their friend, often their hero and model for imitation.