it now rests with us to trace, with the aid of authentic documents, and reliable evidence, the most atrocious, treacherous, and cowardly domestic crime of which the record has come down to us. the murder whose circumstances we are about to relate can only be compared to that committed on the night of the 9th march, 1449, on the person of guillaume de flavy, by his wife blanche d'overbreuc, a young and slender woman, the bastard d'orbandas, and the barber jean bocquillon.
they stifled guillaume with a pillow, battered him pitilessly with a club, and bled him at the throat like a calf. blanche d'overbreuc proved that her husband had determined to have her drowned, while jeanne de lespoisse betrayed a loving husband to a gang of unspeakable scoundrels. we will record the facts with all possible restraint. bluebeard returned rather earlier than expected. this it was gave rise to the quite mistaken idea that, a prey to the blackest jealousy, he was wishful to surprise his wife. full of joy and confidence, if he thought of giving her a surprise it was an agreeable one. his kindness and tenderness, and his joyous, peaceable air would have softened the most savage hearts. the chevalier de la merlus, and the whole execrable brood of lespoisse saw therein nothing but an additional facility for taking his life, and possessing themselves of his wealth, still further increased by his new inheritance.
his young wife met him with a smiling face, allowing herself to be embraced and led to the conjugal chamber, where she did everything to please the good man. the following morning she returned him the bunch of keys which had been confided to her care. but there was missing that of the cabinet of the unfortunate princesses, commonly called the little cabinet. bluebeard gently demanded its delivery, and after putting him off for a time on various pretexts jeanne returned it to him.
there now arises a question which cannot be solved without leaving the limited domain of history to enter the indeterminate regions of philosophy.
charles perrault specifically states that the key of the little cabinet was a fairy key, that is to say, it was magical, enchanted, endowed with properties contrary to the laws of nature, at all events, as we conceive them. we have no proof to the contrary. this is a fitting moment to recall the precept of my illustrious master, monsieur du clos des lunes, a member of the institute: "when the supernatural makes its appearance, it must not be rejected by the historian." i shall therefore content myself with recalling as regards this key, the unanimous opinion of all the old biographers of bluebeard; they all affirm that it was a fairy key. this is a point of great importance. moreover, this key is not the only object created by human industry which has proved to be endowed with marvellous properties. tradition abounds with examples of enchanted swords. arthur's was a magic sword. and so was that of joan of arc, on the undeniable authority of jean chartier; and the proof afforded by that illustrious chronicler is that when the blade was broken the two pieces refused to be welded together again despite all the efforts of the most competent armourers. victor hugo speaks in one of his poems of those "magic stairways still obscured below." many authors even admit that there are men-magicians who can turn themselves into wolves. we shall not undertake to combat such a firm and constant belief, and we shall not pretend to decide whether the key of the little cabinet was or was not enchanted, for our reserve does not imply that we are in any uncertainty, and therein resides its merit. but where we find ourselves in our proper domain, or to be more precise within our own jurisdiction, where we once more become judges of facts, and writers of circumstances, is where we read that the key was flecked with blood. the authority of the texts does not so far impress us as to compel us to believe this. it was not flecked with blood. blood had flowed in the little cabinet, but at a time already remote. whether the key had been washed or whether it had dried, it was impossible that it should be so stained, and what, in her agitation, the criminal wife mistook for a blood-stain on the iron, was the reflection of the sky still empurpled by the roses of dawn.
monsieur de montragoux, on seeing the key, perceived none the less that his wife had entered the little cabinet. he noticed that it now appeared cleaner and brighter than when he had given it to her, and was of opinion that this polish could only come from use.
this produced a painful impression upon him, and he said to his wife, with a mournful smile:
"my darling, you have been into the little cabinet. may there result no grievous outcome for either of us! from that room emanates a malign influence from which i would have protected you. if you, in your turn should become subjected to it, i should never get over it. forgive me; when we love we are superstitious."
on these words, although bluebeard cannot have frightened her, for his words and demeanour expressed only love and melancholy, the young lady of montragoux began shrieking at the top of her voice: "help! help! he's killing me!" this was the signal agreed upon. on hearing it, the chevalier de la merlus and the two sons of madame de lespoisse were to have thrown themselves upon bluebeard and run him through with their swords.
but the chevalier, whom jeanne had hidden in a cupboard in the room, appeared alone. monsieur de montragoux, seeing him leap forth sword in hand, placed himself on guard. jeanne fled terror-stricken, and met her sister anne in the gallery. she was not, as has been related, on a tower; for all the towers had been thrown down by order of cardinal richelieu. anne was striving to put heart into her two brothers, who, pale and quaking, dared not risk so great a stake. jeanne hastily implored them: "quick, quick, brothers, save my lover!" pierre and cosme then rushed at bluebeard. they found him, having disarmed the chevalier de la merlus, holding him down with his knee; they treacherously ran their swords through his body from behind, and continued to strike at him long after he had breathed his last.
bluebeard had no heirs. his wife remained mistress of his property. she used a part of it to provide a dowry for her sister anne, another part to buy captains' commissions for her two brothers, and the rest to marry the chevalier de la merlus, who became a very respectable man as soon as he was wealthy.
