THIRTY FIVE YEARS IN PRISON

Ladies' Mirror, Volume 3, Issue 9, 2 March 1925, Page 44

THIRTY FIVE YEARS IN PRISON

By Maurice Thiery

JN 1748, in the reign of Louis XV. and the all-powerful Marquise de Pompadour, a young man of twentythree years of age, calling himself Jean Danry, the son of a humble servant girl and an ex-surgeon's orderly in the army of Languedoc, made his appearance in Paris. He was almost penniless, but he made up for his lack of material resources by the splendour and soaring scope of his ambitions. Wealth, luxury, and a high-sounding titlethese were the things he had set his heart and mind upon. An Amazing Plan ONE day he conceived a most amazing plan for bringing his ambitions to pass. He told himself that if only he could enlist Madame de Pompadour in his favour, his future would be assured, his dreams would be realised. The following was the fantastic project that took shape in his head. They used to make in those days, for children to play with, little glass vessels which would explode in the hand with a fairly loud report. *He procured a few of these playthings, put them together with some harmless powder into a box, and, by means of a piece of wire, attached them to the lid in such a way that, when the box was opened they would all explode. A Hair-raising Story HPHE box, addressed to the Marquise, was posted by Danry on April 28, 1749. Immediately after he had handed it in he himself left for Versailles. He hoped to procure admission to the favourite herself, but the way was barred by her head footman, into whose ears, in a voice trembling with emotion, he poured the following hair-raising story:— "I was at the Tuileries," he said, "when I happened to notice, two mysterious individuals who were holding a very animated conversation together. I approached them without appearing to show that my suspicions were in any way aroused. Judge of my surprise when I got within earshot to hear them discussing some plan for compassing the death of Madame de Pompadour. Dissembling my horror and amazement, I resolved to follow them and observe their actions. They left shortly afterwards, and made their way straight to the post office, where they put a packet into the box. Who they were and what was in the packet I cannot say; but being anxious to serve the Marquise even unto death. I hastened hither with all the speed at my command to reveal what I had seen and heard." The footman duly reported the story to Madame de Pompadour. Next morning the packet arrived. It was opened with the greatest precautions by Doctor Quesnoy, the medical attendant of the King and the favourite. The contents of the packet exploded quite harmlessly; but appearances, at all events, seemed to suggest a criminal intention on the part of the senders, whoever they might be, and ' the police requested Danry to give them a de-

THE REMARKABLE STORY OF LATUDE

tailed account of what he knew. Danry complied, but he was immediately arrested and flung into the Bastille, for the similarity between his writing and the superscription on the packet had been immediately recognised. When he told them that his sole object in inventing his story had been to secure the interest of the Marquise by appearing to save her life, his tale was scouted. The Lieutenant of Police would have it that the attempt had a political significance, and this was the beginning of one of the most remarkable cases of imprisonment known to history. It endured for thirty-five years, and was productive of a strange series of incidents. Another Escape and Capture TRANSFERRED to the prison at Vincennes, where the treatment was less severe than at the Bastille, Danry resolved to gain his own freedom, for the course of justice was unconscionably slow, apparently, indeed, interminable. From the Vincennes he escaped. He wrote to Madame de Pompadour thinking she would have pity on him, and revealing his hiding-place. She sent the letter to the Prefect of Police, and Danry was captured and clapped into the Bastille. He seemed to be dying of ennui, and they gave him a companion, Antoine Allegre. They planned to escape. It took them two years. Tzvo Years' Work GOMEHOW or other they made themselves implements to answer the purposes of a saw and a knife; these improvised tools they employed on logs of wood they had kept in reserve, and thus they made themselves a ladder. Their body linen, with such other material as they could safely abstract from their sheets and other coverings, they made into a knotted rope two hundred feet in length. Moreover, they contrived to make levers, and the extraordinary thing is that they succeeded in performing all these labours in spite of the keen vigilance of the keepers. By February 25th all their preparations were completed. They succeeded in sawing through the iron grating that barred the chimney and then ascended, after the manner of chimney-sweepers, to the summit of the tower. Then they were obliged to make a descent of two hundred feet down the outside of the wall, and this they did by means of their knotted rope. The night was black as pitch and a furious gale was blowing; but they stuck manfully to their task. At length the perilous descent was accomplished ; exhausted and with bleeding hands, they dropped into the ditch that surrounds the tower. When they had given themselves a little while to recover they proceeded, with the aid of the ladder, to scale the parapet, and found themselves in the Governor's garden. Here they were confronted by an immense wall, which they were utterly unable to climb. Armed with

a lever, Danry endeavoured to make a breach in the wall. After some hours of superhuman effort they did succeed, incredible as it may seem, in boring a hole right through the thickness of the wall. Through this aperture both of them managed to crawl, and they found themselves outside the precincts at the very moment that the alarm bell began to clang out the tidings of their escape. Allegre, who, by some means or other, had procured a peasant's disguise, got across the frontier, but he was arrested at Brussels. Very soon after the unhappy Danry was captured at Amsterdam and cast, with fetters about his wrists and ankles, into one of the darkest dungeons of the Bastille. There he remained for three months, when he was transferred to less gloomy quarters. There he passed his time in writing all manner of petitions, remonstrances, letters, and incoherent memoranda. He sent the King a host of schemes and projects he had thought of for the good of the realm, such for example as the proposal that when in battle the sergeants and officers should be armed with muskets. An Indemnity Demanded QNE day in April, 1764, he heard that Madame de Pompadour was no more. He procured an interview with the Lieutenant of Police, who said he would try to secure his release. Danry replied that he would only accept his freedom if he was indemnified to the tune of sixty thousand francs, and flew into a violent rage. He was cast back into the dungeon. Subsequently he was transferred to Vincennes, where he learned of the death of his father--or his reputed fatherViscomte de la Tude. Henceforward Danry assumed the name and title of Vicomte de la Tude, and increased the indemnity to 150,000 francs, plus the crown of Saint-Louis. Ten years passed slowly by and then he was removed to the great asylum at Charenton. People of influence took up his case, and he was at last released, only to be imprisoned at Bicetre for endeavouring to obtain money by threats from a lady of quality. From Bicetre he continued to pour forth a constant stream of written complaints in which he painted the sufferings of his captivity in language of the utmost violence. Madame Legros /"\NE of these papers, dropped in the street by a drunken warder, who was to have delivered it to some exalted personage, was picked up by a certain Madame Legros, a poor milliner, who was so moved by the account Latude gave of his suffer' ings and misfortunes that she vowed to leave no stone unturned to secure his release. She went from door to door begging succour and support for the ill-starred prisoner. She succeeded in enlisting the good offices of such powerful intercessors as Cardinal de Rohan. The Queen even espoused his cause, but Louis XVI. refused to set him at liberty. In 1783 the Academie Franchise bestowed the Order of Merit on Madame Legros, who was strongly backed up by public opinion. The admirable perseverance displayed by the humble little milliner was at length rewarded, and on March 24, 1784, Latude, now nearly sixty years of age, was finally given his freedom after passing thirty-five years in the royal prisons.