The cart proceeded slowly towards the Place de Grève, which extended from the Hôtel de Ville to the Seine. It was not easy to get through the crowd which pressed around it. The streets were black with people, and the windows crowded with sightseers. At this moment the lady’s features underwent a sudden change of expression: ‘They were dreadfully convulsed, the keenest agony being expressed in the eyes, and the whole countenance wild.’ ‘Sir,’ she said to her confessor, ‘would it be possible, after all that is passing now, for Monsieur de Brinvilliers to have so little feeling as to remain in this world?’
Pirot answered as best he could, endeavouring to ease her mind; but what he said fell on deaf ears, for the marchioness ‘then suffered one of the strongest convulsions of her nature in the vivid apprehension of so much shame. Her face contracted, her brows were knitted, her eyes flashed, her mouth was distorted, and her whole aspect was embittered.’ ‘I do not think,’ adds Pirot, ‘that there was a moment in all the time that I had been with her when her appearance betokened more indignation, and I am not surprised that Monsieur Le Brun, who is said to have seen her at that spot, where he could look close at her for some minutes, made so fiery and terrible a head as he is said to have done in the portrait he took of her.’ Le Brun’s sketch is now No. 853 at the exhibition of the Louvre; it is in red and black chalks. It is an admirable drawing, unquestionably the artist’s masterpiece. Pirot is sketched in silhouette beside the lady.
As the cart passed slowly through the crowd, voices were raised crying out for blood, and heaping curse on curse; but others spoke pitiful words, and she heard prayers for her salvation. There was a sudden revulsion of opinion in her favour, which grew stronger and stronger till the hour of her death.
The shirt in which she was clothed filled her with amazement. ‘Sir,’ she said to her confessor, ‘look; I am dressed all in white.’
All at once a new contraction marked her features. She had just noticed Desgrez riding near her, the man who had arrested her at Liége, and subjected her to some rough treatment. She asked the executioner to move so as to hide this man from her; then she felt remorse for this ‘delicacy,’ and asked the executioner to return to his former position. ‘It was the last time her countenance showed any grimace,’ says Pirot. From that moment she was wholly under the fortifying influence of the priest who assisted her. Hope arose in her soul, more and more clear and radiant, and gave strength to her heart.
She knelt down on the step of the great door of Notre Dame, and there repeated with docility the formula dictated by the executioner, in which she publicly confessed her crimes. ‘Some people say that she hesitated in saying her father’s name,’ observes Pirot; ‘but I noticed nothing of the sort.’
Then they remounted the cart to wend towards the Place de Grève. ‘Not a word of reproach or complaint against any one escaped her; she showed no sign of vulgar fear. If she dreaded death, it was only in anticipation of the judgment of God, and neither the sight of the Grève, the proximity of the scaffold, nor the appearance of all the terrible apparatus used in this kind of execution gave her the least shadow of fright.’
The cart stopped. The executioner said to her: ‘Madam, you must persevere: it is not enough to have come here and to have responded hitherto to what this gentleman has been saying, you must go on to the end as you have begun.’ ‘This he said in a noticeably humane manner,’ observes Pirot, ‘and I was edified by it. It is true that she answered never a word, but she courteously bent her head as though to show that she took well what he had said and that she meant to continue in the temper in which he saw her. He confessed to me that he was surprised at her firmness.’
At this moment a clerk of the Parlement appeared. The commissaries were sitting in the Hôtel de Ville ready to receive any declaration Madame de Brinvilliers might still have to make about her accomplices. ‘Sir,’ she replied, ‘I have no more to say; I have told all I know.’ She renewed the declaration whereby she freed Briancourt and Desgrez from the accusations fabricated against them at her torture.
The executioner placed the ladder against the scaffold. ‘She looked at me,’ says Pirot, ‘with a gentle countenance and an expression full of gratitude and tenderness, and with tears in her eyes. “Sir,” she said to me in a pretty loud tone, which showed how self-possessed she was, but as courteous as it was firm, “we are not yet to separate. You promised not to leave me till my head is off; I hope that you will keep your word.” And as I answered nothing, because the tears and sighs which I could only with difficulty restrain robbed me of all power of speech, she added, “I beseech you, sir, to forgive me and not to regret the time you have given to me. I am sorry, for my part, to have given you so little satisfaction, at least at certain moments; I beg your pardon for it. But I cannot die without asking you to say a De profundis on the scaffold at the moment of my death, and a mass to-morrow. Remember me, sir, and pray for me.”’ Pirot remarks, ‘If I had not been at that moment more deeply moved than I had ever been in my life, I should have had many things to reply to her courtesies, and I should have promised her more than one mass; but I found it impossible to say anything more than “Yes, madam, I will do all that you bid me.”’