Modern French Prisons: Bicêtre; St. Pélagie; St. Lazare; La Force; The Conciergerie; La Grande and La Petite Roquettes; Mazas; La SantéGriffiths, Arthur
History
Modern French Prisons: Bicêtre; St. Pélagie; St. Lazare; La Force; The Conciergerie; La Grande and La Petite Roquettes; Mazas; La Santé
Griffiths, Arthur
Crime -- France -- History; Criminals -- France -- History; Prisons -- France -- History
knew him maintained to the last that he was not a thief; that he was
essentially an honest man, who would not stoop to murder for mere
gain; and that some family scandal would have been revealed if the
whole story of the crime had been laid bare.
In the case of Marchandon, his intention to murder his new mistress
without loss of time was shown by the fact that he only hired for a
single day the clothes in which he presented himself in the rue de
Sèze. He had secured employment in many houses by means of a forged
certificate of character, which was so unsatisfactory that it roused
the suspicions of the Princess Poniatowski, who had engaged him, but
would not allow him to enter her house. She had gone at once to the
registry office to warn them, but found that Marchandon had already
been placed elsewhere, in fact, with Madame Cornet, his future victim.
He proceeded promptly to carry out his crime. Having secured a livery
coat as already described, he waited at table, and, after receiving
his orders for next day, he went up to bed in the garret. About one in
the morning he went down again and entered Madame Cornet’s apartment
by means of a key which he had secured, and hid himself between the
salon and the bedroom. When Madame Cornet had undressed and gone to
bed, Marchandon attacked her. Her piercing screams disturbed the
concierge who slept above. He got up to call the chambermaid, believing
that Madame Cornet was taken ill. The two came down-stairs together
and knocked at the door, but received no reply. They listened at the
door for a time, and then left, thinking all must be right, as she was
moving about. It was the murderer whom they heard, busied in getting
rid of his blood-stained clothes, and hunting for valuables.
The first clue to the detection of the crime was the discovery of
the hired livery coat, which was recognised by its owner when he was
found. With it came the identification of the man-servant. He had a
snug little home of his own in Compiègne, where he lived with his
wife very comfortably. When arrested in the course of the day, he was
just sitting down to a little dinner of croutons and roast fowl. The
establishment was run with the means Marchandon acquired in Paris and
brought down to his wife, the proceeds, no doubt, of his thefts. At one
time he was in the service of the well-known M. Worth, the dressmaker
of the rue de la Paix, but always managed to get down to Compiègne
in the evening for dinner, bringing with him fish or fruit, or some
other delicacy. He was a man of simple tastes, very popular in his own
neighborhood. The raising of poultry was his favorite amusement, and
he delighted in growing flowers. He was not without a certain sense of
grim humor; and a witness deposed in court to his having exclaimed,
when reading his newspaper the day after the murder of Madame Cornet,
“Why are people so careless as to engage their servants without proper
characters!”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account