Moiron
As they were still speaking of Pranzini, M. Maloureau, who had been Attorney-General under the Empire, said:
“I once knew a very curious affair, curious from many points of view, as you will see.
“I was at that time Public Prosecutor in the provinces, and stood very well at Court, thanks to my father, who was first President at Paris. I had charge of a case which has remained famous, called ‘The Affair of Schoolmaster Moiron.’
“M. Moiron, a schoolmaster in the north of France, bore an excellent reputation in all the countryside. He was an intelligent, thoughtful, very religious man, rather silent, and had married in the district of Boislinot, where he practised his profession. He had had three children, who all died, one after the other, from consumption. After the loss of his own little ones, he seemed to lavish upon the urchins confided to his care all the tenderness concealed in his heart. He bought, with his own money, playthings for his best pupils, for the best behaved and the nicest. He allowed them to have play dinners, and gorged them with dainties, sweetmeats and cakes. Everybody loved and praised this good man and his tender heart, when five of his pupils suddenly died of a very mysterious disease. It was believed that an epidemic prevailed, caused by the water being made impure from drought. They looked for the cause, without discovering it, the more so, because the symptoms were very strange. The children appeared to be taken with a languor, could eat nothing, complained of pains in the stomach, and finally died in most terrible agony.
“An autopsy was made of the last victim, but nothing was discovered. The entrails were sent to Paris and analysed, but showed no sign of any toxic substance.
“For one year no further deaths occurred; then two little boys, the best pupils in the class, favourites of old Moiron, expired in four days’ time. An examination was ordered, and in each body fragments of pounded glass were found imbedded in the organs. They concluded that the two children had eaten imprudently of something carelessly prepared. The breaking of a glass over a bowl of milk would have been enough to cause this frightful accident, and the matter would have rested there had not Moiron’s servant been taken ill just at that time. The physician found the same morbid signs that he observed in the preceding attacks of the children, and, upon questioning her, finally obtained the confession that she had stolen and eaten some sweets, bought by the master for his pupils.
“Upon order of the court, the schoolhouse was searched and a closet was found, full of toys and sweets for the children. Nearly all these edibles contained fragments of glass or broken needles.
“Moiron, who was immediately arrested, appeared so indignant and horrified at being suspected that he was nearly released. Nevertheless, the indications of his guilt were so apparent that they fought hard in my mind against my first conviction, which was based upon his good reputation, his entire record, and the absolute absence, the incredibility, of any motive for such a crime.
“Why should this good, simple, religious man kill children, and the children whom he seemed to love best? Why should he select those he had feasted with dainties, for whom he had spent in playthings and sweets half his stipend?
“To admit this, one would have to conclude that he was insane. But Moiron seemed so reasonable, so calm, so full of judgment and good sense! It was impossible to prove insanity in him.
“Proofs accumulated, nevertheless! Sweets, cakes, marshmallows, and other things seized at the shops where the schoolmaster got his supplies, were found to contain nothing suspicious.
“He pretended that some unknown enemy had opened his closet with a false key and placed the glass and needles in the sweets. And he invented a whole story about a legacy dependent on the death of a child, sought out and discovered by a peasant, and so worked up as to make the suspicion fall upon the schoolmaster. This brute, he said, was not interested in the other poor children who were also condemned to die.
“This was plausible. The man appeared so sure of himself and so sorry, that we should have acquitted him without doubt, if two overwhelming discoveries had not been made, one after the other. The first was a snuffbox full of ground glass! It was his own snuffbox, in a secret drawer of his writing desk, where he kept his money.
“He explained this in a manner almost acceptable, by saying that it was the final ruse of the unknown culprit. But a draper from Saint-Marlouf presented himself at the house of the judge, and told him that Moiron had bought needles of him many times, the finest needles he could find, breaking them to see whether they suited him.
“The draper brought as witnesses a dozen persons who recognized Moiron at first glance. And the inquiry revealed the fact that the schoolmaster was at Saint-Marlouf on the days mentioned by the merchant.
“I pass over the terrible evidence of the children as to the master’s choice of dainties, and his care in making the little ones eat in his presence and destroying all traces of the feast.
“Outraged public opinion demanded capital punishment, and took on a new force from exaggerated terror, which allows of no delays or resistance.
“Moiron was condemned to death. His appeal was rejected. No recourse remained to him for pardon. I knew from my father that the Emperor would not grant it.
“One morning, as I was at work in my office, the chaplain of the prison was announced. He was an old priest who had a great knowledge of men and a large acquaintance among criminals. He appeared worried, constrained, and uneasy. After talking a few moments of other things, he said abruptly, on rising:
“ ‘If Moiron is decapitated, you will have allowed the execution of an innocent man.’
“Then, without bowing, he went out, leaving me under the profound effect of his words. He had pronounced them in a solemn, moving fashion, opening lips, closed and sealed by the secret of the confessional, in order to save a life.
“An hour later I was on my way to Paris, and my father, at my request, asked for an immediate audience with the Emperor.
“I was received the next day. Napoleon III was at work in a little room when we were introduced. I explained the whole affair, even to the visit of the priest, and, in the midst of the story, the door opened behind the chair of the Emperor, and the Empress, believing him to be alone, entered. His Majesty consulted her. As soon as she heard the facts, she exclaimed:
“ ‘This man must be pardoned! He must, because he is innocent.’
“Why should this sudden conviction of a woman so pious throw into my mind a terrible doubt?
“Up to that time I had ardently desired a commutation of the sentence. And now I felt myself the puppet, the dupe of an adroit criminal, who had used the priest and the confessional as a means of defence.
“I showed some hesitation to their Majesties. The Emperor remained undecided, torn on one hand by his natural goodness, and on the other held back by the fear of allowing himself to be made a fool of by a scoundrel; but the Empress, convinced that the priest had obeyed a divine call, repeated: ‘What does it matter? It is better to spare a guilty man than to kill an innocent one.’ Her advice prevailed. The penalty of death was commuted, and that of hard labour was substituted.
“Some years after I heard that Moiron, whose exemplary conduct at Toulon had been made known again to the Emperor, was employed as a servant by the director of the penitentiary. And then I heard no word of this man for a long time.
“About two years after this, when I was passing the summer at Lille, in the house of my cousin, de Larielle, I was told, one evening, as we were sitting down to dinner, that a young priest wished to speak to me.
“I told them to let him come in, and he begged me to go with him to a dying man, who desired, above all things, to see me. This had happened often, during my long career as judge, and, although I had been put aside by the Republic, I was still called upon from time to time in like circumstances.
“I followed the priest, who took me to a little miserable lodging, under the roof of a lofty workmen’s tenement. There, upon a pallet of straw, I found a dying man, seated with his back against the wall, in order to breathe. He was a sort of grimacing skeleton, with deep, shining eyes.
“When he saw me he murmured: ‘You do not know me?’
“ ‘No.’
“ ‘I am Moiron.’
“I shivered, but said: ‘The schoolmaster?’
“ ‘Yes.’
“ ‘How is it you are here?’
“ ‘That would take too long—I haven’t time—I am going to die—They brought me this priest—and as I knew you were here, I sent him for you—It is to you that I wish to confess—since you saved my life long ago.’
“He seized with his dry hands the straw of his bed, and continued, in a rasping, bass voice:
“ ‘There … I owe you the truth—to you, because it is necessary to tell it to someone before leaving the earth.
“ ‘It was I who killed the children—all—it was I—for vengeance!
“ ‘Listen. I was an honest man, very honest—very honest—very pure—adoring God—the good God—the God that they teach us to love, and not the false God, the executioner, the robber, the murderer who governs the earth—I had never done wrong, never committed a villainous act. I was pure as one unborn.
“ ‘After I was married I had children, and I began to love them as never father or mother loved their own. I lived only for them. I was foolish. They died, all three of them! Why? Why? What had I done? I? I had a change of heart, a furious change. Suddenly I opened my eyes as though waking from a dream, and I saw that God is wicked. Why had He killed my children? I opened my eyes and I saw that He loved to kill. He loves only that, Monsieur. He gives life only to take it away! God is a murderer! Some death is necessary to Him every day. He causes death in many ways, the better to amuse Himself. He has invented sickness and accident in order to divert Himself through all the long months and years, and, when He is weary, He has epidemics, plague, cholera, diphtheria, smallpox; and I know not what else this monster has invented.
“ ‘All that was not enough. All those evils are too much alike. From time to time He sends war, in order to see two hundred thousand soldiers laid low, bruised in blood and mire, with arms and legs torn off, heads broken by bullets, like eggs that fall along the road.
“ ‘That is not all. He has made men who eat one another. And then, as men become better than He, He has made beasts to see the men chase them, slaughter, and eat them. That is not all. He has made all the little animals that live for a day, flies which increase by myriads in an hour, ants, that one crushes, and others, many, so many that we cannot even imagine them. And all kill one another, chase one another, devour one another, and constantly die. And the good God looks on and is amused, because He sees everything, the largest as well as the smallest, those which are in drops of water, as well as those in the stars. He looks at them all and is amused! Ugh! Beast!
“ ‘So, I, Monsieur, I also have killed some children. I played this trick on Him. It was not He who got them. It was not He, it was I. And I would have killed still more, but you took me away. That’s all!
“ ‘I was going to die, guillotined. I! How He would have laughed, the reptile! Then I asked for a priest, and lied to him. I confessed. I lied, and I lived.
“ ‘Now it is all over. I can no longer escape Him. But I have no fear of Him, Monsieur, I despise Him too much.’
“It was frightful to see this miserable creature, hardly able to breathe, talking in gasps, opening an enormous mouth to eject words that were barely audible, pulling up the cloth of his straw bed, and, under a blanket that was nearly black, moving his thin legs, as if to run away.
“Oh! the awful creature, and the awful remembrance!
“I said: ‘Have you nothing more to say?’
“ ‘No, Monsieur.’
“ ‘Then, farewell.’
“ ‘Farewell, sir. Some day …’
“I turned toward the priest, who was livid, and whose sombre silhouette was thrown upon the wall.
“ ‘You will remain?’
“ ‘I will remain.’
“Then the dying man sneered: ‘Yes, yes, he sends crows to dead bodies.’
“As for me, I had had enough of it. I opened the door and ran away.”