The sad truth came out at last, when the real murderer, having been convicted and condemned for another crime, confessed that he was guilty of the murder for which the baker had wrongly suffered. He appealed to Judge Cambo himself to verify this statement, for he knew that the judge had seen him. The Grand Master of the Knights of Malta now called upon Judge Cambo to defend himself from this grave imputation. Cambo freely admitted his action, but still held that he had only done his duty, that he was really right in sending an innocent man to an ignominious death sooner than do violence to his own legal scruples. The Grand Master was of a more liberal mind, and condemned the judge to degradation and the forfeiture of his office, ordering him at the same time to provide handsomely for the family of his victim.
THE D’ANGLADES.
A very flagrant judicial error was committed in Paris towards the latter end of the same century, mainly through the obstinate persistence of the Lieutenant-General of Police in believing that he had discovered the real perpetrators of a theft. Circumstantial evidence was accepted as conclusive proof in spite of the unblemished character and the high social position of the accused.
The Marquis d’Anglade and his wife lived in the same house with the Comte and Comtesse de Montgomerie; it was in the Rue Royale, the best quarter in Paris, and both kept good establishments. The Montgomeries were the more affluent, had many servants, and a stable full of horses and carriages. D’Anglade also kept a carriage, but his income was said to be greatly dependent upon his winnings at the gaming table. The two families were on terms of very friendly intercourse, frequently visited, and accepted each other’s hospitality. When the Comte and Comtesse went to their country house, the D’Anglades often accompanied them.
It was to have been so on one occasion, but at the eleventh hour the Marquis d’Anglade begged to be excused on the score of his wife’s indisposition. The Montgomeries went alone, but took most of their servants with them. When they returned to Paris, a day earlier than they were expected, they found the door of their apartments open, although it had been locked when they left. A little later D’Anglade came in. Having been supping with other friends, and hearing that the Montgomeries were in the house, he went in to pay his respects. Madame d’Anglade joined him, and the party did not break up till a late hour. There was no suspicion of anything wrong then.
Next morning, however, the Comte de Montgomerie discovered that he had been the victim of a great robbery. His strong box had been opened by a false key, and thirteen bags of silver, amounting to 13,000 francs, and 11,000 francs in gold, had been abstracted, also a hundred louis d’or coined in a new pattern, and a valuable pearl necklace. The police were summoned, and their chief, the Lieutenant-General, declared that someone resident in the house must be the thief. Suspicion seems to have attached at once to the D’Anglades, although they readily offered to allow their premises to be searched. The search was forthwith made, and the whole of their boxes, the beds and cupboards, and all receptacles in the rooms they occupied, were thoroughly ransacked. Only the garrets remained, and D’Anglade willingly accompanied the officers thither. His wife, being ill and weak, remained downstairs.
Here, in the garret, the searchers came upon seventy-five louis d’or of the kind above mentioned, wrapped in a scrap of printed paper part of a genealogical table, which Montgomerie at once identified as his. The police now wished to fix the robbery on the D’Anglades, and their suspicions were strengthened by the poor man’s confusion when desired, as a test, to count out the money before them all. He was trembling, a further symptom of guilt. However, when the basement was next examined, the part occupied by the Montgomerie servants, evidence much more incriminatory was obtained against the latter. In the room where they slept, five of the missing bags of silver were found, all full, and a sixth nearly so. None of these servants was questioned, yet they were as likely to be guilty as the accused, more so indeed. But the police thought only of arresting the D’Anglades, one of whom was imprisoned in the Châtelet, the other in the Fors l’Evêque prison.