The Marvellous History of VIDOCQ: LOVER, CONVICT, AND HIEF of POLICE,

Auckland Star, Volume LXI, Issue 66, 19 March 1930, Page 21

The Marvellous History of VIDOCQ: LOVER, CONVICT, AND HIEF of POLICE,

K'SxWS'Sfe-. Written from information supplied by the ■ French Police Authorities.

By H. ASHTON - WOLFE.

(performance and to stand ready, armed with an iron bar, to assist her in case i of an attack by the felines. Soon he .! perceived that he had found favour in her eyes. It was, not in "Vidocq's nature to reject

SYNOPSIS OF SATURDAY'S INSTALMENT, j The opening instalment of this biography i dealt with the youth of Vidocq, the most i notorious gaol-breaker of Paris, who afterwards became Chief of Police. The biography related the story of his betrayal by his ■wife and his arrest after •wounding the officer with whom her liaison had been carried out. Vidocq was informed of her treachery by Francine, a beautiful girl who subsequently visited him in prison. Vidocq's sentence was increased upon the false allegation that he had forged orders enabling other prisoners to obtain their release, and he then determined to effect his own escape. . PART n. Once a week the military prisoners received the visit of an officer, and Vidocq, who had seen him often, gave Francine precise details of his uniform and appearance. Fortunately for the success of his scheme, Francine was still permitted to come to him with food. Piece by piece, hidden under her clothes, she brought a uniform, a wig, and even a pair of top boots. These things Vidocq secreted in his mattress. Then, when the day for the officer's visit again arrived, he donned his disguise and, when all was ready, hammered furiously on the door of his cell. At once a turnkey came rushing in, but a blow from Vidocq's iron fist stretched the fellow out. Vidocq coolly dressed him in his own clothes, slammed the door of the cell and walked unhindered past the saluting sentries. But it was not enough to escape from the prison; he and Francine must be far from Arras before the alarm was given, or the gates of the town would be closed. His plucky sweetheart was waiting at a preconcerted spot, with a powerful horse and light wagon filled with market produce, ' and Vidocq was safely smuggled past the sentry hidden beneath a mound of cabbages and onions. Not five minutes after they had left the gate and ramparts behind, the boom of a cannon warned the countryside that a convict had escaped. A violent storm, which had been threatening all day, burst • simultaneously with the ominous sound, and their wild headlong drive through thorny shrubs and over sodden paths became a dreadful undertaking. But neither storm nor the fear of a spill daunted Vidocq. Reckless as ever, he' wielded the whip without respite and kept the horse at a gallop. But at last the increasing gloom made all further advance impossible. He halted the panting animal and scrambled down, intending to lead it. As he did so, a gust of wind brought the menacing sound of baying hounds towards them. "Convict-hunters!" Francine gasped. "Oh, Francois—what shall we do? They will recognise you in that uniform." "Undress quickly," Vidocq replied, shaking the rain from his cape. "I'll become a woman. This wig haa lost its curls and will serve admirably. You must wrap yourself in the cloak and drive on. We'll meet at St. Omer. Hurry, now!" Sheltered by a .tree, Francine unfastened her skirt and hooded cape, which Vidocq slipped over his military dress; then he smeared his cheeks with mud and pulled the wig half over his face. The crashing of heavy bodies through the shrubs already sounded dangerously near and the barking of the dogs had become continuous. The moment Francine had disappeared, driving through the pelting rain, Vidocq broke a bough from a tree and hobbled along in the opposite direction. At a turn in the road, two men of the brutish type the State paid to hunt escaped convicts, broke from the wood and came running towards him. Vidocq gave a shrill cry at sight of their dogs and raised his stick. "Softly, softly, mother," the elder of the two called warningly. "Our pets will not harm your We are after a man dressed as an officer. Have you seen him ?" "Yes, Devil take him," Vidocq whined. "He robbed me of my loaf of bread. My children will go to bed without supper now." "Never mind' that. Which way did he go?" "I'll sell my information," Vidocq replied with a leer. "Give me the price of my bread and I'll tell you." The man contemptuously tossed a coin at his feet. "There you are —now —let that loosen your tongue." ■/' V, Vidocq picked up the piece of silver and pointed to the forest. "Through the trees. But take care; he is armed with a sword." Without a word the convict-hunters turned and, slashing at the puzzled, unwilling dogs, forced their way through the undergrowth. Vidocq listened to their retreating footsteps with a grin, then when the sounds grew faint, he pulled his skirt above his knees and set off at a rapid pace after his swetheart.

Fran cine, meanwhile, had not been | fortunate. A flash of lightning had so j startled the horse that it had bolted at breakneck pace through the forest paths. In vain the terrified girl had tried to cheek the animal's career, a broken branch cmiglit her arm, and swept her from the swaying cart. The fall was severe and she lay senseless until daybreak in a tangle of bushes where some compassionate peasant woman found her and carried her to a nearby farm. Convinced that he would find Fi ancine waiting at their tryßt, Vidocq "walked briskly onward until dawn, but lie realised that female garments would not serve him by day, and succeeded in stealing a shepherd's smock and breechet from a barn. He stifled his conscience with the thought that Francine's cloa.k which he iift in the place, was a fair exchange. Thus attirea., he reached St. Omer after five days of weary plodding and constant alarms, for to his excited fancy gendarmes appeared to be patrolling every road. His dismay may be imagined when be -rfarnt that Francine was not at the inn they had chosen as a meeting-place. Hunted and penniless, for a time he came near to despair. In this extremity, by a freak of chance, a circus arrived in the town and •was again his salvation. One of the clowns had broken his arm and for two evenings Vidocq stood on the boards outside the tents and made merry jests, although his eyes roved ceaselessly ironi face to face—seeking his beloved FranThis circus boasted four superb lions, whose trainer was a gipsy g} T \. Vldocc l had been ordered to hand the girl paper hoops and various accessories during Her

any girl's advances; and so it came about that poor Francine, still weak and ill from her fall, opened the door of the caravan where several of the circus people had informed her she would find her lover, at the very moment that he was in the gipsy's rams. Too late Vidocq tried to tear himself away; his sweetheart had fled, frantic with rage, and although he searched high and low he could not find her. Francine had been wounded to the quick, and jealousy is an evil counsellor. Stifling her love, she went to the local police. An hour later, just as Vidocq returned to the circus, crazed with griet, and furiously angry with himself, four gendarmes suddenly .appeared with drawn sabres. But their quarry was not to be so easily taken. A sudden blow from his iron staff sent the first man flying, and with a quick wrench, Vidocq opened the door of the lions' cage and slipped inside. Undaunted by the chorus of snarls and roars that met his appearance, he whirled his weapon round his head and held the beasts at bay. "Now, take me if you dare!" he taunted the surprised police. For a minute Vidocq's audacity held them

[found that already, the police were watching the street. Agile as a cat he swung himself to a window, but he had been seen, and with a shout two. men started in pursuit. The chase lasted half the night, and at last he was compelled to slide down a chimney and to seek refuge with a girl who had once been his sweetheart.

He remained hidden in her rooms for five days, but finally his anxiety for Francine drove him out once more. He reached the house where they had lived without trouble, but to his dismay Francine aiid her friend had gone and, what was worsej they had removed all their belongings.

Perplexed at this unexpected event, he descended the stairs intending to make inquiries in the neighbourhood, when, as he stepped into the street, a cloak was twisted round his head, his hands were bound, and an hour later he was thrust back' into the very cell froin which he had so ingeniously escaped.

The following morning he was taken before the juge d'instruction. "Where did you spend the last five days?" was the magistrate's unexpected question. Loyalty to the girl who had sheltered him caused him to remain silent. Finally, he was brought before the court and charged with ■ the murder of Francine. Then and then only did he learn that

blood-stained clothes, a knife, and other damning evidence had been found in Francine's rooms when the gendarmes had invaded the place just before his return. Already the Public Prosecutor had demanded the death penalty, when Francine staggered in, supported by two soldiers. She related that when she found her lover gone, she had to stab herself. The sisters at the hospital to which she had crept, bleeding from a deep gash, confirmed her story, and Vidocq thus escaped the guillotine. But there still remained the accusation of forging an order of release, with which he had originally been charged. The two scoundrels and the farmer who had used his room in the Pointed Tower, swore formally to his guilt, and on this evidence Francois Vidocq was sentenced to eight years in the chain gangs at Brest. • When, a month later, the iron collar riveted around his neck, Vidocq trudged with five hundred others along the roads to the convict station, Franciue followed, determined to help him to escape. His first two attempts failed utterly; and he was beaten so savagely by the angry warders that the doctor sent him to the infirmary. From there he succeeded in gaining the outer gates, where he was caught. Yet ever did this audacious youth turn defeat into victory. He was at oncie ] taken to the governor's quarters by one of the sentries. At the door of the governor's office the man laid aside his cape and cap and entered to report. Instantly, Vidocq seized the cap, pulled it low over his face, slung the long cape around him, and grasping a waiting prisoner by the arm, he swiftly walked out of the gates, as though conducting the man to another gaol. Ten minutes later he was in Francine's room. She had already purchased some sailor's clothing, a wig and beard. * Once more these two fled, hiding by day, travelling by night,- until reached Ostend. There for a time they lived in peace, but the little money they had soon melted. Vidocq knew that without papers honest work was impossible. He fell in with a gang of Sharpers, and using Francine as decoy, he despoiled drunken farmers and roysteriug sailors of their golden louis. But one of these, the captain of a Dutch brig, had noted Vidocq's supple hands and bulging muscles, and resolved upon a profitable revenge. One night, while Vidocq was carousing in a tavern, a dozen powerful seamen peized him and carried him to their ship. It was the usual method of the gangs. But this time they had caught a Tartar. On board were a hundred others caught in like manner, and, with thenhelp, Vidocq seized the brig, set captain and officers adrift, and decided to turn pirate. Unfortunately, the only navigator among them proved a traitor and steered the ship under the guns of a Dutch fort. Several officers at once rowed out to them, but Vidocq had meanwhile seized the treacherous steersman and bound him to a powder keg, and when the officers climbed over the side they were seized and held as hostages, while a man stood ready by a powder train with flaring match, and threatened to fire the magazine. This had the desired effect, and an emissary sent to shore procured them immunity from the guns of the fort. They gained the open sea where their hostages, were allowed to leave.,

spellbound, then with a cry of rage, one of the gendarmes, slashing right and left with his sabre, sprang after him into the cage. ~ , ~ This second interruption maddened tnc lions. A glancing blow from a huge paw sent the plucky gendarme reeling weaponless against tie bars, ana alieaay the beast crouched for a leap, with bared fangs, when Vidocq, seeing the mans deadly peril, struck the lion across the eves with his rod, and seizing the man by his tunic, dragged him from the cage and instantly slammed the door. "I'm sorry, my boy," the brigadier of police said in a shaking voice to Francois, who, with cool indifference to his own plight, was binding up a ragg scratch in the gendarmes shoulder. must obey orders an dtake you to Arras; but never was there a job I hated more. You are a brave fellow." Vidocq" shrugged his shoulders; for the moment he was ~beaten; and without a struggle he allowed himself to be bound. As thev passed the entrance to the mam tent, Francine, who had followed the police, sank to her knees and sobbed bitterly. She was roused from her despair by a rude shake. It was the oirl, whose infatuation for Vidocq had caused Francine to betray him. - "No use crying now, ma petite," she cried harshly. "I cannot leave my work, but since you seem to love him, too, 111 help you. Take these fire pots; they contain powder. You can ride, hem? Good—then I'll give you that horse—it s mine. Ride along the path by the windmill and you'll reach the wood before the police. ,TV hen they appear, light these things and throw them among their horses. I use them every night to terrify my lions, and they'll surely do as much for horses. Get your lover into the saddle, and you need not fear capture." Speechless with relief, Francine seized the boxes of powder, swung herself on the horse and galloped away._ She had not been many minutes in hiding at the of the forest which surrounded St. Omer, when the gendarmes appeared, walking their horses and leading Vidocq by a rope tied under his armpits. Her flint and tinder were ready and she quickly lit the fuses and with a sweep of her arm flung the fire boxes through the air. The effect was terrific. The unexpected explosions caused the horses to rear and bolt in all directions. Poor Vidocq was jerked to the ground and dragged over stones and bushes. Fortunately he had been tied to the saddle of the gendarme whose life he had saved. Seeing the boy's peril,.the man slashed at the rope and released him. As Francine ran forward leading her horse, he staggered to his feet, and with her assistance climbed into the saddle. Two days later they returned to Arras and. Vidocq was smuggled into a house belonging to one of Francine's" friends. For several weeks he remained a voluntary prisoner, tended by his sweetheart. But inaction to him was torture, and

one evening, while she was away, he climbed to the roof and gained the street through a neighbour's house. He had taken care to disguise himself with a heavy oloak and wide-brimmed bat, which partially hid his features, but his exploits had already made him famous, and when he entered a tavern he was hailed with delight by a crowd of roysterers. He escaped from their ill-timed advances through a cellar door, ..but

Two days later Vidocq fell in with a French privateersman and joined forces with him. But his desire to find Francine caused him to desert at Dunkirk. He had barely stepped ashore when he was stopped and questioned by patrolling gendarmes, and because he couid give no satisfactory account of himsel P, he. was taken before the Prefect. The convict's brand on his chest proved him to be an escaped prisoner, and a week later he found himself once more in the dreary fortress at Brest. But no prison was built that could hold him long.

Francine, who had traced her lover, succeeded in hiding files and clothing under a loose stone on the wharf where

the chain gang laboured. Advised of this by a message secreted in a loaf of bread/ Vidocq and a fellow prisoner named Coco-Lacour again freed themselves of their fetters, and after countless adventures reached Paris. Poor Francine had been sentenced to six months' imprisonment for her share in Vidocq's escape, and he resolved to gain both his and her pardon by an incredibly audacious move.

One morning a tall, handsome man, with bushy side-whiskers, walked into the office of Monsieur Henry, the chief of Paris police. "Your detectives are fools," the mysterious visitor exclaimed, when the door was shut. "Paris is infested by robbers and murderers, who commit their crimes unhindered, night after night. Make me the chief of a special brigade de Surete and I will undertake to cleanse the town in a year."

M. Henry frowned. "I need 110 man's help. Besides, you promise what is impossible. Who are you ?" The visitor laughed and pulled off the wigr and whiskers. "See—your men have searched for me in vain all over France, and here I am in your office. lam Vidocq!" For a moment the official was speechless, £hen his eyes narrowed and his witq began to leap and dance. Vidocq! such a man would indeed be a reckless, clever auxiliary. And so, with the consent of M. Pasquier, the prefect, the bargain was struck —Francine was released, Vidocq nominated chief acent of the Surete, and Coco-Lacour his lieutenant. No longer hunted —Vidocn had become the hunter. (Concluded.) The next story in this series will be "The Clue of the Devil's Footprint."

The "baker's dozen,' thirteen, originated when bakers, with crude ovens, could not exactly gauge the weight of loaves. To avoid fines they gave an extra loaf with every dozen. Dogs are allowed to roam free, while cat? are chained in French Indo-China. In that topsy-turvy land women wear trousers and men skirts, and children are given numbers instead of names.

QUEEN