The charge against the prisoner was read by one of the clerks, declaring him to stand in danger of high treason, in having conspired with the Sieurs Cinq Mars, Fontrailles, De Thou, and others, to bring foreign troops into France, and for having treated and combined with a power at open war with the kingdom for various treasonable and disloyal purposes.
The evidence brought forward to establish this, was as frivolous as the accusation was unfounded. Even the very semblance of justice was nearly abandoned, the Judges seeming to go through the trial as a useless and tiresome ceremony, which might very well be dispensed with.
It was proved, indeed, that the prisoner had often been seen in private with the unfortunate Cinq Mars; and it was also given in evidence by a servant of the Duke of Orleans, that he had carried a letter from that Prince to De Blenau at Moulins; and that in consequence of that letter, as he conceived, the Duke had gone, with a great air of secrecy, to a particular spot, where he was unaccustomed to ride upon ordinary occasions, and that there he was met by De Blenau. What conversation took place between them, he could not tell; but after they had separated, the Duke, he said, gave particular orders that their meeting should be mentioned to no man.
The next witness brought forward was the messenger who had carried to De Blenau the King’s permission to return to court, and who proved that, instead of finding the Count at Moulins, or any where in the Bourbonnois, to which, according to the King’s command, he was bound to confine himself, he had been conducted by the Count’s page to Troyes in Champagne, where he found Monsieur de Blenau himself ready to set off for some other place. This witness also added, that he had learned in the town of Troyes, that Monsieur de Blenau had been absent one whole day, during which time he had visited the old Castle of Mesnil St. Loup; and that at his return he did not go to the same hotel from which he had proceeded in the morning.
When the evidence was gone through, the President of Grenoble signified to the prisoner that he might speak in his own defence; and though well assured that on his judges he could make no impression, De Blenau resolved not to allow the accusation to remain unrepelled, and replied at some length to what had been urged against him. He showed the impossibility of preparing any defence, when the nature of the charge had never reached his ears till that day. He pointed out that, though he had known and loved the unhappy Cinq Mars, their friendship was no proof that he was at all acquainted with the conspiracy for which the other had suffered; and that though he had met the Duke of Orleans, and received a letter from him, that was not sufficient to show him concerned in any plot against the State. He acknowledged that he had left the Bourbonnois without the King’s permission; but he stated the powerful motives which had induced him to do so, and gave a correct account, from the notes he had prepared, of every moment of his time since he had been liberated from the Bastille. He farther declared his innocence: he proved that he had been absent from all the principal scenes of the conspiracy; and ended by demanding that the confession of the Italian Villa Grande should be produced.
The President of Grenoble turned his eyes upon Lafemas; but that worthy Judge assumed an air of perfect unconsciousness, and demanded, what Italian the prisoner meant?
De Blenau now clearly and distinctly stated all he knew concerning him, and again demanded that his confession should be brought forward. But still Lafemas appeared in doubt. “Monsieur de Blenau,” said he, “although this seems to me but a manœuvre to gain time, I have no objection that the papers of this Court should be searched, if you can give us the baptismal name of this Italian, of whom at present we know nothing; and even this is a mere matter of grace and favour.”
De Blenau declared his incapacity to do so, but protested against the unjust proceedings of the Court, and showed that, if time and opportunity had been allowed for preparing his defence, he would have been enabled, by application to the Count de Chavigni, to bring forward the paper he mentioned, and to prove the truth of every thing he had asserted, by the evidence of persons now at a distance. He was still speaking when Lafemas rose and interrupted him. “Perceiving,” said the Judge, with unblushing effrontery, “that the prisoner has concluded his defence, I will now occupy the Court for a few moments, in order to explain the reasoning on which my own opinion is founded, although I see but one conclusion to which any one can come upon the merits of the case before us. It has been shown that the prisoner was the sworn—the bosom friend of the traitor who has already suffered for his crimes; that he was in constant communication with almost all the conspirators; and that the Royal Duke, who has unfortunately dyed his name with so black a spot, at the very same time that he was engaged in plotting the ruin of his country, was in secret correspondence with the individual before us. It has farther been proved, that the prisoner, after having been relegué in Bourbon, quitted the place to which he was bound to confine himself, and went, upon what he cannot but own himself to be a wild romantic chase, into Champagne. This part of his story is a very strange one, according to his own showing; but when we come to compare it with the confession of the traitor Cinq Mars, the matter becomes more clear. It was in the old Castle of St. Loup, near the city of Troyes, says the confession, that the principal meeting of the conspirators was held; and it was to this very Castle of St. Loup that the prisoner directed his course from Moulins. Evidently for the purpose of concealment also, the prisoner, on his return to Troyes, instead of directing his course to the inn where he had formerly alighted, proceeded to another, at which, unfortunately for himself, he was overtaken by the King’s messenger. I think it is unnecessary to say more upon these points. To my mind they are convincing. It is true, indeed, Monsieur de Blenau has shrewdly kept his hand-writing from any paper which could prove him an active member of this conspiracy. But what man in his senses can doubt that he was criminally aware of its existence? This, then, is his crime: and I pronounce the concealment of treason to be as great a crime as treason itself. But if there were wanting a case in point to prove that the law considers it as such, I would cite the condemnation of De Thou, who, but two days ago, suffered with the traitor Cinq Mars. Let us now, my brethren,” he added, “retire to consider of our sentence; for I have only spoken thus much, not to bias your opinion, but simply that the prisoner himself, before he leaves the Court, may know, at least, my sentiments.”
The Judges now withdrew to the cabinet appointed for their deliberations, and De Blenau was removed from the court to a small apartment hard by. He had not been here a moment when his page, Henri de La Mothe, burst into the room. “My dear, dear master!” exclaimed the boy, throwing himself at his feet, “they tell me that you certainly will not be condemned, for that you have not been taken to what is called the dead man’s dwelling: so the sentinel let me in to see you.”
“Henry! how came you hither!” exclaimed De Blenau, hurriedly—“But we have no time to think of that—My fate is sealed—I have read it in the triumphant glance of that demon, Lafemas.—Mark me, my boy, and if ever you loved me, obey me well.—When I am dead—Do you hear?—When I am dead, near my heart you will find a portrait. Take it, with this ring, to Mademoiselle de Beaumont. Tell her, that the one was the likeness of all I love on earth; and the other, the ring that was to have bound her to me for ever. Say that De Blenau sends them to her in death, and that his last thought was of Pauline de Beaumont.”