THE SEVEN WIVES OF BLUEBEARD & OTHER MARVELLOUS TALES

By Anatole France

Edited By James Lewis May And Bernard Miall

Translated by D. B. Stewart

John Lane Company MCMXX

THE SEVEN WIVES OF BLUEBEARD

CHAPTER I

THE strangest, the most varied, the most erroneous opinions havebeen expressed with regard to the famous individual commonly known asBluebeard. None, perhaps, was less tenable than that which made ofthis gentleman a personification of the Sun. For this is what a certainschool of comparative mythology set itself to do, some forty years ago. It informed the world that the seven wives of Bluebeard were the Dawns, and that his two brothers-in-law were the morning and the eveningTwilight, identifying them with the Dioscuri, who delivered Helena whenshe was rapt away by Theseus. We must remind those readers who mayfeel tempted to believe this that in 1817 a learned librarian of Agen, Jean-Baptiste Pérés, demonstrated, in a highly plausible manner, thatNapoleon had never existed, and that the story of this supposed greatcaptain was nothing but a solar myth. Despite the most ingeniousdiversions of the wits, we cannot possibly doubt that Bluebeard andNapoleon did both actually exist. 

An hypothesis no better founded is that which Consists in identifyingBluebeard with the Marshal de Rais, who was strangled by the arm ofthe Law above the bridges of Nantes on 26th of October, 1440. Withoutinquiring, with M. Salomon Reinach, whether the Marshal committed thecrimes for which he was condemned, or whether his wealth, coveted by agreedy prince, did not in some degree contribute to his undoing, thereis nothing in his life that resembles what we find in Bluebeard's;this alone is enough to prevent our confusing them or merging the twoindividuals into one. 

Charles Perrault, who, about 1660, had the merit of composing the firstbiography of this _seigneur_, justly remarkable for having married sevenwives, made him an accomplished villain, and the most perfect model ofcruelty that ever trod the earth. But it is permissible to doubt, ifnot his sincerity, at least the correctness of his information. He may, perhaps, have been prejudiced against his hero. He would not have beenthe first example of a poet or historian who liked to darken the coloursof his pictures. If we have what seems a flattering portrait of Titus, it would seem, on the other hand, that Tacitus has painted Tiberius muchblacker than the reality. Macbeth, whom legend and Shakespeare accuseof crimes, was in reality a just and a wise king. He never treacherouslymurdered the old king, Duncan. Duncan, while yet young, was defeated ina great battle, and was found dead on the morrow at a spot called theArmourer's Shop. He had slain several of the kinsfolk of Gruchno, thewife of Macbeth. The latter made Scotland prosperous; he encouragedtrade, and was regarded as the defender of the middle classes, the trueKing of the townsmen. The nobles of the clans never forgave him fordefeating Duncan, nor for protecting the artisans. They destroyed him, and dishonoured his memory. Once he was dead the good King Macbeth wasknown only by the statements of his enemies. The genius of Shakespeareimposed these lies upon the human consciousness. I had long suspectedthat Bluebeard was the victim of a similar fatality. All thecircumstances of his life, as I found them related, were far fromsatisfying my mind, and from gratifying that craving for logic andlucidity by which I am incessantly consumed. On reflection, I perceivedthat they involved insurmountable difficulties. There was so great adesire to make me believe in the man's cruelty that it could not fail tomake me doubt it. 

These presentiments did not mislead me. My intuitions, which had theirorigin in a certain knowledge of human nature, were soon to be changedinto certainty, based upon irrefutable proofs. 

In the house of a stone-cutter in St. Jean-des-Bois, I found severalpapers relating to Bluebeard; amongst others his defence, and ananonymous complaint against his murderers, which was not proceeded with, for what reasons I know not. These papers confirmed me in the beliefthat he was good and unfortunate, and that his memory has beenoverwhelmed by unworthy slanders. From that time forth, I regarded itas my duty to write his true history, without permitting myself anyillusion as to the success of such an undertaking. I am well aware thatthis attempt at rehabilitation is destined to fall into silence andoblivion. How can the cold, naked Truth fight against the glitteringenchantments of Falsehood?

CHAPTER II

SOMEWHERE about 1650 there lived on his estate, between Compiègne andPierrefonds, a wealthy noble, by name Bernard de Montragoux, whoseancestors had held the most important posts in the kingdom. But he dweltfar from the Court, in that peaceful obscurity which then veiledall save that on which the king bestowed his glance. His castle ofGuillettes abounded in valuable furniture, gold and silver ware, tapestry and embroideries, which he kept in coffers; not that he hidhis treasures for fear of damaging them by use; he was, on the contrary, generous and magnificent. But in those days, in the country, the nobleswillingly led a very simple life, feeding their people at their owntable, and dancing on Sundays with the girls of the village. 

On certain occasions, however, they gave splendid entertainments, whichcontrasted with the dullness of everyday life. So it was necessarythat they should hold a good deal of handsome furniture and beautifultapestries in reserve. This was the case with Monsieur de Montragoux. 

His castle, built in the Gothic period, had all its rudeness. Fromwithout it looked wild and gloomy enough, with the stumps of itsgreat towers, which had been thrown down at the time of the monarchy'stroubles, in the reign of the late King Louis. Within it offered a muchpleasanter prospect. The rooms were decorated in the Italian taste, as was the great gallery on the ground floor, loaded with embosseddecorations in high relief, pictures and gilding. 

At one end of this gallery there was a closet usually known as "thelittle cabinet. " This is the only name by which Charles Perrault refersto it. It is as well to note that it was also called the "Cabinet of theUnfortunate Princesses, " because a Florentine painter had portrayed onthe walls the tragic stories of Dirce, daughter of the Sun, bound by thesons of Antiope to the horns of a bull, Niobe weeping on Mount Sipylusfor her children, pierced by the divine arrows, and Procris invitingto her bosom the javelin of Cephalus. These figures had a look of lifeabout them, and the porphyry tiles with which the floor was coveredseemed dyed in the blood of these unhappy women. One of the doors of theCabinet gave upon the moat, which had no water in it. 

The stables formed a sumptuous building, situated at some distance fromthe castle. They contained stalls for sixty horses, and coach-housesfor twelve gilded coaches. But what made Guillettes so bewitching aresidence were the woods and canals surrounding it, in which one coulddevote oneself to the pleasures of angling and the chase. 

Many of the dwellers in that country-side knew Monsieur de Montragouxonly by the name of Bluebeard, for this was the only name that thecommon people gave him. And in truth his beard was blue, but it was blueonly because it was black, and it was because it was so black that itwas blue. Monsieur de Montragoux must not be imagined as having themonstrous aspect of the threefold Typhon whom one sees in Athens, laughing in his triple indigo-blue beard. We shall get much nearer thereality by comparing the _seigneur_ of Guillettes to those actors orpriests whose freshly shaven cheeks have a bluish gloss. 

Monsieur de Montragouz did not wear a pointed beard like his grandfatherat the Court of King Henry II; nor did he wear it like a fan, as didhis great-grandfather who was killed at the battle of Marignan. LikeMonsieur de Turenne, he had only a slight moustache, and a chin-tuft;his cheeks had a bluish look; but whatever may have been said of him, this good gentleman was by no means disfigured thereby, nor did heinspire any fear on that account. He only looked the more virile, andif it made him look a little fierce, it had not the effect of makingthe women dislike him. Bernard de Montragoux was a very fine man, tall, broad across the shoulders, moderately stout, and well favoured; albeitof a rustic habit, smacking of the woods rather than of drawing-roomsand assemblies. Still, it is true that he did not please the ladiesas much as he should have pleased them, built as he was, and wealthy. Shyness was the reason; shyness, not his beard. Women exercised aninvincible attraction for him, and at the same time inspired him with aninsuperable fear. He feared them as much as he loved them. This was theorigin and initial cause of all his misfortunes. Seeing a lady for thefirst time, he would have died rather than speak to her, and howevermuch attracted he may have been, he stood before her in gloomy silence. His feelings revealed themselves only through his eyes, which herolled in a terrible manner. This timidity exposed him to every kindof misfortune, and, above all, it prevented his forming a becomingconnection with modest and reserved women; and betrayed him, defenceless, to the attempts of the most impudent and audacious. Thiswas his life's misfortune. 

Left an orphan from his early youth, and having rejected, owing to thissort of bashfulness and fear, which he was unable to overcome, the veryadvantageous and honourable alliances which had presented themselves, hemarried a Mademoiselle Colette Passage, who had recently settled down inthat part of the country, after amassing a little money by making a beardance through the towns and villages of the kingdom. He loved her withall his soul. And to do her justice, there was something pleasing abouther, though she was what she was a fine woman with an ample bosom, and acomplexion that was still sufficiently fresh, although a little sunburntby the open air. Great were her joy and surprise on first becominga lady of quality. Her heart, which was not bad, was touched by thekindness of a husband in such a high position, and with such a stout, powerful body, who was to her the most obedient of servants and devotedof lovers. But after a few months she grew weary because she could nolonger go to and fro on the face of the earth. In the midst of wealth, overwhelmed with love and care, she could find no greater pleasure thanthat of going to see the companion of her wandering life, in the cellarwhere he languished with a chain round his neck and a ring through hisnose, and kissing him on the eyes and weeping. Seeing her full of care, Monsieur de Montragouz himself became careworn, and this only added tohis companion's melancholy. The consideration and forethought whichhe lavished on her turned the poor woman's head. One morning, when heawoke, Monsieur de Montragoux found Colette no longer at his side. Invain he searched for her throughout the castle. 

The door of the Cabinet of the Unfortunate Princesses was open. It wasthrough this door that she had gone to reach the open country with herbear. The sorrow of Bluebeard was painful to behold. In spite of theinnumerable messengers sent forth in search of her, no news was everreceived of Colette Passage. 

Monsieur de Montragoux was still mourning her when he happened to dance, at the fair of Guillettes, with Jeanne de La Cloche, daughter of thePolice Lieutenant of Compiègne, who inspired him with love. He asked herin marriage, and obtained her forthwith. She loved wine, and drank itto excess. So much did this taste increase that after a few months shelooked like a leather bottle with a round red face atop of it. The worstof it was that this leather bottle would run mad, incessantly rollingabout the reception-rooms and the staircases, crying, swearing, andhiccoughing; vomiting wine and insults at everything that got in herway. Monsieur de Montragoux was dazed with disgust and horror. But hequite suddenly recovered his courage, and set himself, with as muchfirmness as patience, to cure his wife of so disgusting a vice, Prayers, remonstrances, supplications, and threats: he employed every possiblemeans. All was useless. He forbade her wine from his cellar: she got itfrom outside, and was more abominably drunk than ever. 

To deprive her of her taste for a beverage that she loved too well, heput valerian in the bottles. She thought he was trying to poison her, sprang upon him, and drove three inches of kitchen knife into his belly. He expected to die of it, but he did not abandon his habitual kindness. 

"She is more to be pitied than blamed, " he said. 

One day, when he had forgotten to close the door of the Cabinet of theUnfortunate Princesses, Jeanne de La Cloche entered by it, quite out ofher mind, as usual, and seeing the figures on the walls in posturesof affliction, ready to give up the ghost, she mistook them for livingwomen, and fled terror-stricken into the country, screaming murder. Hearing Bluebeard calling her and running after her, she threw herself, mad with terror, into a pond, and was there drowned. It is difficult tobelieve, yet certain, that her husband, so compassionate was his soul, was much afflicted by her death. 

Six weeks after the accident he quietly married Gigonne, the daughter ofhis steward, Traignel. She wore wooden shoes, and smelt of onions. Shewas a fine-looking girl enough, except that she squinted with one eye, and limped with one foot. As soon as she was married, this goose-girl, bitten by foolish ambition, dreamed of nothing but further greatnessand splendour. She was not satisfied that her brocade dresses were richenough, her pearl necklaces beautiful enough, her rubies big enough, hercoaches sufficiently gilded, her lakes, woods, and lands sufficientlyvast. Bluebeard, who had never had any leaning toward ambition, trembledat the haughty humour of his spouse. Unaware, in his straightforwardsimplicity, whether the mistake lay in thinking magnificently like hiswife, or modestly as he himself did, he accused himself of a mediocrityof mind which was thwarting the noble desires of his consort, and, fullof uncertainty, he would sometimes exhort her to taste with moderationthe good things of this world, while at others he roused himself topursue fortune along the verge of precipitous heights. He was prudent, but conjugal affection bore him beyond the reach of prudence. Gigonnethought of nothing but cutting a figure in the world, being received atCourt, and becoming the King's mistress. Unable to gain her point, shepined away with vexation, contracting a jaundice, of which she died. Bluebeard, full of lamentation, built her a magnificent tomb. 

This worthy _seigneur_ overwhelmed by constant domestic adversity, wouldnot perhaps have chosen another wife: but he was himself chosen for ahusband by Mademoiselle Blanche de Gibeaumex, the daughter of a cavalryofficer, who had but one ear; he used to relate that he had lost theother in the King's service. She was full of intelligence, which sheemployed in deceiving her husband. She betrayed him with every man ofquality in the neighbourhood. She was so dexterous that she deceived himin his own castle, almost under his very eyes, without his perceivingit. Poor Bluebeard assuredly suspected something, but he could not saywhat. Unfortunately for her, while she gave her whole mind to trickingher husband, she was not sufficiently careful in deceiving her lovers;by which I mean that she betrayed them, one for another. One day she wassurprised in the Cabinet of the Unfortunate Princesses, in the companyof a gentleman whom she loved, by a gentleman whom she had loved, andthe latter, in a transport of jealousy, ran her through with his sword. A few hours later the unfortunate lady was there found dead by one ofthe castle servants, and the fear inspired by the room increased. 

Poor Bluebeard, learning at one blow of his ample dishonour, andthe tragic death of his wife, did not console himself for the lattermisfortune by any consideration of the former. He had loved Blanche deGibeaumez with a strange ardour, more dearly than he had loved Jeanne deLa Cloche, Gigonne Traignel, or even Colette Passage. On learning thatshe had consistently betrayed him, and that now she would never betrayhim again, he experienced a grief and a mental perturbation which, farfrom being appeased, daily increased in violence. So intolerable werehis sufferings that he contracted a malady which caused his life to bedespaired of. 

The physicians, having employed various medicines without effect, advised him that the only remedy proper to his complaint was to take ayoung wife. He then thought of his young cousin, Angèle de La Garandine, whom he believed would be willingly bestowed upon him, as she had noproperty. What encouraged him to take her to wife was the fact that shewas reputed to be simple and ignorant of the world. Having been deceivedby a woman of intelligence, he felt more comfortable with a fool. Hemarried Mademoiselle de La Garandine, and quickly perceived the falsityof his calculations. Angèle was kind, Angèle was good, and Angèle lovedhim; she had not, in herself, any leanings toward evil, but the leastastute person could quickly lead her astray at any moment. It was enoughto tell her: "Do this for fear of bogies; comes in here or the were-wolfwill eat you;" or "Shut your eyes, and take this drop of medicine, " andthe innocent girl would straightway do so, at the will of the rascalswho wanted of her that which it was very natural to want of her, forshe was pretty. Monsieur de Montragouz, injured and betrayed by thisinnocent girl, as much as and more than he had been by Blanche deGibeaumex, had the additional pain of knowing it, for Angèle was toocandid to conceal anything from him. She used to tell him: "Sir, someone told me this; some one did that to me; some one took so and so awayfrom me; I saw that; I felt so and so. " And by her ingenuousness shecaused her lord to suffer torments beyond imagination. He endured themlike a Stoic. Still he finally had to tell the simple creature that shewas a goose, and to box her ears. This, for him, was the beginning ofa reputation for cruelty, which was not fated to be diminished. Amendicant monk, who was passing Gulllettes while Monsieur de Montragouzwas out shooting woodcock, found Madame Angèle sewing a doll'spetticoat. This worthy friar, discovering that she was as foolish as shewas beautiful, took her away on his donkey, having persuaded her thatthe Angel Gabriel was waiting in a wood, to give her a pair of pearlgarters. It is believed that she must have been eaten by a wolf, for shewas never seen again. 

After such a disastrous experience, how was it that Bluebeard could makeup his mind to contract yet another union? It would be impossible tounderstand it, were we not well aware of the power which a fine pair ofeyes exerts over a generous heart. 

The honest gentleman met, at a neighbouring château which he was inthe habit of frequenting, a young orphan of quality, by name Alix dePontalcin, who, having been robbed of all her property by a greedytrustee, thought only of entering a convent. Officious friendsintervened to alter her determination and persuade her to accept thehand of Monsieur de Montragoux. Her beauty was perfect. Bluebeard, whowas promising himself the enjoyment of an infinite happiness in herarms, was once more deluded in his hopes, and this time experienced adisappointment, which, owing to his disposition, was bound to make aneven greater impression upon him than all the afflictions which hehad suffered in his previous marriages. Alix de Pontalcin obstinatelyrefused to give actuality to the union to which she had neverthelessconsented. 

In vain did Monsieur de Montragoux press her to become his wife; sheresisted prayers, tears, and objurgations, she refused her husband'slightest caresses, and rushed off to shut herself into the Cabinet ofthe Unfortunate Princesses, where she remained, alone and intractable, for whole nights at a time. 

The cause of a resistance so contrary to laws both human and divine wasnever known; it was attributed to Monsieur de Montragoux's blue beard, but our previous remarks on the subject of his beard render such asupposition far from probable. In any case, it is a difficult subjectto discuss. The unhappy husband underwent the cruellest sufferings. Inorder to forget them, he hunted with desperation, exhausting horses, hounds, and huntsmen. But when he returned home, foundered andovertired, the mere sight of Mademoiselle de Pontalcin was enough torevive his energies and his torments. Finally, unable to endure thesituation any longer, he applied to Rome for the annulment of a marriagewhich was nothing better than a trap; and in consideration of a handsomepresent to the Holy Father he obtained it in accordance with canon law. If Monsieur de Montragoux discarded Mademoiselle de Pontalcin withall the marks of respect due to a woman, and without breaking his caneacross her back, it was because he had a valiant soul, a great heart, and was master of himself as well as of Guillettes. But he swore that, for the future, no female should enter his apartments. Happy had he beenif he had held to his oath to the end!

CHAPTER III

SOME years had elapsed since Monsieur de Montragoux had rid himselfof his sixth wife, and only a confused recollection remained in thecountry-side of the domestic calamities which had fallen upon thisworthy _seigneur's_ house. Nobody knew what had become of his wives, and hair-raising tales were told in the village at night; some believedthem, others did not. About this time, a widow, past the prime of life, Dame Sidonie de Lespoisse, came to settle with her children in the manorof La Motte-Giron, about two leagues, as the crow flies, from the castleof Guillettes. Whence she came, or who her husband had been, not a soulknew. Some believed, because they had heard it said, that he had heldcertain posts in Savoy or Spain; others said that he had died in theIndies; many had the idea that the widow was possessed of immenseestates, while others doubted it strongly. However, she lived in anotable style, and invited all the nobility of the country-side to LaMotte-Giron. She had two daughters, of whom the elder, Anne, on theverge of becoming an old maid, was a very astute person: Jeanne, theyounger, ripe for marriage, concealed a precocious knowledge of theworld under an appearance of simplicity. The Dame de Lespoisse had alsotwo sons, of twenty and twenty-two years of age; very fine well-madeyoung fellows, of whom one was a Dragoon, and the other a Musketeer. Imay add, having seen his commission, that he was a Black Musketeer. When on foot, this was not apparent, for the Black Musketeers weredistinguished from the Grey not by the colour of their uniform, but bythe hides of their horses. All alike wore blue surcoats laced with gold. As for the Dragoons, they were to be recognized by a kind of fur bonnet, of which the tail fell gallantly over the ear. The Dragoons had thereputation of being scamps, a scapegrace crowd, witness the song:

 "Mama, here the dragoons come, Let us haste away. "

But you might have searched in vain through His Majesty's two regimentsof Dragoons for a bigger rake, a more accomplished sponger, or a vilerrogue than Cosme de Lespoisset. Compared with him, his brother wasan honest lad. Drunkard and gambler, Pierre de Lespoisse pleased theladies, and won at cards; these were the only ways of gaining a livingknown to him. 

Their mother, Dame de Lespoisse, was making a splash at Motte-Giron onlyin order to catch gulls. As a matter of fact, she had not a penny, andowed for everything, even to her false teeth. Her clothes and furniture, her coach, her horses, and her servants had all been lent by Parisianmoneylenders, who threatened to withdraw them all if she did notpresently marry one of her daughters to some rich nobleman, and therespectable Sidonie was expecting to find herself at any moment nakedin an empty house. In a hurry to find a son-in-law, she had at oncecast her eye upon Monsieur de Montragoux, whom she summed up as beingsimple-minded, easy to deceive, extremely mild, and quick to fall inlove under his rude and bashful exterior. Her two daughters enteredinto her plans, and every time they met him, riddled poor Bluebeard withglances which pierced him to the depths of his heart. He soon fella victim to the potent charms of the two Demoiselles de Lespoisse. Forgetting his oath, he thought of nothing but marrying one of them, finding them equally beautiful. After some delay, caused less byhesitation than timidity, he went to Motte-Giron in great state, andmade his petition to the Dame de Lespoisse, leaving to her the choiceof which daughter she would give him. Madame Sidonie obligingly repliedthat she held him in high esteem, and that she authorized him to pay hiscourt to whichever of the ladies he should prefer. 

"Learn to please, monsieur, " she said. "I shall be the first to applaudyour success. "

In order to make their better acquaintance, Bluebeard invited Anne andJeanne de Lespoisse, with their mother, brothers, and a multitude ofladies and gentlemen to pass a fortnight at the castle of Guillettes. There was a succession of walking, hunting, and fishing parties, dancesand festivities, dinners and entertainments of every sort. A young_seigneur_, the Chevalier de Merlus, whom the ladies Lespoisse hadbrought with them, organized the beats. Bluebeard had the best packs ofhounds and the largest turnout in the countryside. The ladies rivalledthe ardour of the gentlemen in hunting the deer. They did not alwayshunt the animal down, but the hunters and their ladies wandered away incouples, found one another, and again wandered off into the woods. Forchoice, the Chevalier de la Merlus would lose himself with Jeanne deLespoisse, and both would return to the castle at night, full of theiradventures, and pleased with their day's sport. 

After a few days' observation, the good _seigneur_ of Montragoux felta decided preference for Jeanne, the younger sister, rather thanthe elder, as she was fresher, which is not saying that she was lessexperienced. He allowed his preference to appear; there was no reasonwhy he should conceal it, for it was a befitting preference; moreover, he was a plain dealer. He paid court to the young lady as best he could, speaking little, for want of practice; but he gazed at her, rolling hisrolling eyes, and emitting from the depths of his bowels sighs whichmight have overthrown an oak tree. Sometimes he would burst outlaughing, whereupon the crockery trembled, and the windows rattled. Alone of all the party, he failed to remark the assiduous attentions ofthe Chevalier de la Merlus to Madame de Lespoisse's younger daughter, or if he did remark them he saw no harm in them. His experience of womenwas not sufficient to make him suspicious, and he trusted when he loved. My grandmother used to say that in life experience is worthless, andthat one remains the same as when one begins. I believe she was right, and the true story that I am now unfolding is not of a nature to proveher wrong. 

Bluebeard displayed an unusual magnificence in these festivities. When night arrived the lawns before the castle were lit by a thousandtorches, and tables served by men-servants and maids dressed as faunsand dryads groaned under all the tastiest things which the country-sideand the forest produced. Musicians provided a continual succession ofbeautiful symphonies. Towards the end of the meal the schoolmaster andschoolmistress, followed by the boys and girls of the village, appearedbefore the guests, and read a complimentary address to the _seigneur_of Montragoux and his friends. An astrologer in a pointed cap approachedthe ladies, and foretold their future love-affairs from the lines oftheir hands, Bluebeard ordered drink to be given for all his vassals, and he himself distributed bread and meat to the poor families. 

At ten o'clock, for fear of the evening dew, the company retired tothe apartments, lit by a multitude of candles, and there tables wereprepared for every sort of game: lansquenet, billiards, reversi, bagatelle, pigeon-holes, turnstile, porch, beast, hoca, brelan, draughts, backgammon, dice, basset, and calbas. Bluebeard was uniformlyunfortunate in these various games, at which he lost large sums everynight. He could console himself for his continuous run of bad luck bywatching the three Lespoisse ladies win a great deal of money. Jeanne, the younger, who often backed the game of the Chevalier de la Merlus, heaped up mountains of gold. Madame de Lespoisse's two sons also didvery well at reversi and basset; their luck was invariably best at themore hazardous games. The play went on until late into the night. Noone slept during these marvellous festivities, and as the earliestbiographer of Bluebeard has said: "They spent the whole night in playingtricks on one another. " These hours were the most delightful ofthe whole twenty-four; for then, under cover of jesting, and takingadvantage of the darkness, those who felt drawn toward one another wouldhide together in the depths of some alcove. The Chevelier de la Merluswould disguise himself at one time as a devil, at another as a ghost ora were-wolf in order to frighten the sleepers, but he always ended byslipping into the room of Mademoiselle Jeanne de Lespoisse. The good_seigneur_ of Montragoux was not overlooked in these games. The two sonsof Madame de Lespoisse put irritant powder in his bed, and burnt in hisroom substances which emitted a disgusting smell. Or they would arrangea jug of water over his door so that the worthy _seigneur_ could notopen the door without the whole of the water being upset upon hishead. In short, they played on him all sorts of practical jokes, to thediversion of the whole company, and Bluebeard bore them with his naturalgood humour. 

He made his request, to which Madame de Lespoisse acceded, although, asshe said, it wrung her heart to think of giving her girls in marriage. 

The marriage was celebrated at Motte-Giron with extraordinarymagnificence. The Demoiselle Jeanne, amazingly beautiful, was dressedentirely in _point de France_, her head covered with a thousandringlets. Her sister Anne wore a dress of green velvet, embroideredwith gold. Their mother's dress was of golden tissue, trimmed with blackchenille, with a _parure_ of pearls and diamonds. Monsieur de Montragouxwore all his great diamonds on a suit of black velvet; he made a veryfine appearance; his expression of timidity and innocence contrastingstrongly with his blue chin and his massive build. The bride's brotherswere of course handsomely arrayed, but the Chevalier de la Merlus, ina suit of rose velvet trimmed with pearls, shone with unparalleledsplendour. 

Immediately after the ceremony, the Jews who had hired out to thebride's family and her lover all these fine clothes and rich jewelsresumed possession of them and posted back to Paris with them. 

CHAPTER IV

FOR a month Monsieur de Montragoux was the happiest of men. He adoredhis wife, and regarded her as an angel of purity. She was somethingquite different, but far shrewder men than poor Bluebeard might havebeen deceived as he was, for she was a person of great cunning andastuteness, and allowed herself submissively to be ruled by hermother, who was the cleverest jade in the whole kingdom of France. Sheestablished herself at Guillettes with her eldest daughter Anne, hertwo sons, Pierre and Cosme, and the Chevalier de la Merlus, who keptas close to Madame de Montragoux as if he had been her shadow. Her goodhusband was a little annoyed at this; he would have liked to keep hiswife always to himself, but he did not take exception to the affectionwhich she felt for this young gentleman, as she had told him that he washer foster-brother. 

Charles Perrault relates that a month after having contracted thisunion, Bluebeard was compelled to make a journey of six weeks' durationon some important business. He does not seem to be aware of the reasonsfor this journey, and it has been suspected that it was an artifice, which the jealous husband resorted to, according to custom, in order tosurprise his wife. The truth is quite otherwise. Monsieur de Montragouzwent to Le Perche to receive the heritage of his cousin of Outarde, whohad been killed gloriously by a cannon-ball at the battle of the Dunes, while casting dice upon a drum. 

Before leaving, Monsieur de Montragoux begged his wife to indulge inevery possible distraction during his absence. 

"Invite all your friends, madame, " he said, "go riding with them, amuseyourselves, and have a pleasant time. "

He handed over to her all the keys of the house, thus indicating thatin his absence she was the sole and sovereign mistress of all the_seigneurie_ of Guillettes. 

"This, " he said, "is the key of the two great wardrobes; this of thegold and silver not in daily use; this of the strong-boxes which containmy gold and silver; this of the caskets where my jewels are kept; andthis is a pass-key into all the rooms. As for this little key, it isthat of the Cabinet, at the end of the Gallery, on the ground floor;open everything, and go where you will. "

Charles Perrault claims that Monsieur de Montragoux added:

"But as for the little Cabinet, I forbid you to enter that; and I forbidyou so expressly that if you do enter it, I cannot say to what lengthsmy anger will not go. "

The historian of Bluebeard in placing these words on record, has falleninto the error of adopting, without, verification, the version concoctedafter the event by the ladies Lespoisse. Monsieur de Montragouxexpressed himself very differently. When he handed to his wife the keyof the little Cabinet, which was none other than the Cabinet of theUnfortunate Princesses, to which we have already frequently alluded, heexpressed the desire that his beloved Jeanne should not enter that partof the house which he regarded as fatal to his domestic happiness. Itwas through this room, indeed, that his first wife, and the best ofall of them, had fled, when she ran away with her bear; here Blanchede Gibeaumex had repeatedly betrayed him with various gentlemen; andlastly, the porphyry pavement was stained by the blood of a belovedcriminal. Was not this enough to make Monsieur de Montragoux connect theidea of this room with cruel memories and fateful forebodings?

The words which he addressed to Jeanne de Lespoisse convey the desiresand impressions which were troubling his mind. They were actually asfollows:

"For you, madame, nothing of mine is hidden, and I should feel that Iwas doing you an injury did I fail to hand over to you all the keys ofa dwelling which belongs to you. You may therefore enter this littlecabinet, as you may enter all the other rooms of the house; but if youwill take my advice you will do nothing of the kind, to oblige me, andin consideration of the painful ideas which, for me, are connectedwith this room, and the forebodings of evil which these ideas, despitemyself, call up into my mind. I should be inconsolable were anymischance to befall you, or were I to bring misfortune upon you. Youwill, madame, forgive these fears, which are happily unfounded, as beingonly the outcome of my anxious affection and my watchful love. "

With these words the good _seigneur_ embraced his wife and posted off toLe Perche. 

"The friends and neighbours, " says Charles Perrault, "did not wait to beasked to visit the young bride; so full were they of impatience to seeall the wealth of her house. They proceeded at once to inspect allthe rooms, cabinets, and wardrobes, each of which was richer and morebeautiful than the last; and there was no end to their envy and theirpraises of their friend's good fortune. "

All the historians who have dealt with this subject have added thatMadame de Montsagoux took no pleasure in the sight of all theseriches, by reason of her impatience to open the little Cabinet. Thisis perfectly correct, and as Perrault has said: "So urgent was hercuriosity that, without considering that it was unmannerly to leave herguests, she went down to it by a little secret staircase, and in such ahurry that two or three times she thought she would break her neck. " Thefact is beyond question. But what no one has told us is that the reasonwhy she was so anxious to reach this apartment was that the Chevalier dela Merlus was awaiting her there. 

Since she had come to make her home in the castle of Guillettes she hadmet this young gentleman in the Cabinet every day, and oftener twice aday than once, without wearying of an intercourse so unseemly in a youngmarried woman. It is Impossible to hesitate, as to the nature of theties connecting Jeanne with the Chevalier: they were anything butrespectable, anything but chaste, Alas, had Madame de Montragoux merelybetrayed her husband's honour, she would no doubt have incurred theblame of posterity; but the most austere of moralists might have foundexcuses for her. He might allege, in favour of so young a woman, thelaxity of the morals of the period; the examples of the city and theCourt; the too certain effects of a bad training, and the advice ofan immoral mother, for Madame Sidonie de Lespoisse countenanced herdaughter's intrigues. The wise might have forgiven her a fault tooamiable to merit their severity; her errors would have seemed too commonto be crimes, and the world would simply have considered that she wasbehaving like other people. But Jeanne de Lespoisse, not content withbetraying her husband's honour, did not hesitate to attempt his life. 

It was in the little Cabinet, otherwise known as the Cabinet of theUnfortunate Princesses, that Jeanne de Lespoisse, Dame de Montragoux, inconcert with the Chevalier de la Merlus, plotted the death of a kind andfaithful husband. She declared later that, on entering the room, she sawhanging there the bodies of six murdered women, whose congealed bloodcovered the tiles, and that recognizing in these unhappy women the firstsix wives of Bluebeard, she foresaw the fate which awaited herself. She must, in this case, have mistaken the paintings on the walls formutilated corpses, and her hallucinations must be compared with thoseof Lady Macbeth. But it is extremely probable that Jeanne imaginedthis horrible sight in order to relate it afterwards, justifying herhusband's murderers by slandering their victim. 

The death of Monsieur de Montragouz was determined upon. Certain letterswhich lie before me compel the belief that Madame Sidonie Lespoisse hadher part in the plot. As for her elder daughter, she may be described asthe soul of the conspiracy. Anne de Lespoisse was the wickedest of thewhole family. She was a stranger to sensual weakness, remaining chastein the midst of the profligacy of the house; it was not a case ofrefusing pleasures which she thought unworthy of her; the truth was thatshe took pleasure only in cruelty. She engaged her two brothers, Cosme and Pierre, in the enterprise by promising them the command of aregiment. 

CHAPTER V

IT now rests with us to trace, with the aid of authentic documents, and reliable evidence, the most atrocious, treacherous, and cowardlydomestic crime of which the record has come down to us. The murderwhose circumstances we are about to relate can only be compared tothat committed on the night of the 9th March, 1449, on the person ofGuillaume de Flavy, by his wife Blanche d'Overbreuc, a young and slenderwoman, the bastard d'Orbandas, and the barber Jean Bocquillon. 

They stifled Guillaume with a pillow, battered him pitilessly with aclub, and bled him at the throat like a calf. Blanche d'Overbreuc provedthat her husband had determined to have her drowned, while Jeanne deLespoisse betrayed a loving husband to a gang of unspeakable scoundrels. We will record the facts with all possible restraint. Bluebeard returnedrather earlier than expected. This it was gave rise to the quitemistaken idea that, a prey to the blackest jealousy, he was wishful tosurprise his wife. Full of joy and confidence, if he thought of givingher a surprise it was an agreeable one. His kindness and tenderness, andhis joyous, peaceable air would have softened the most savage hearts. The Chevalier de la Merlus, and the whole execrable brood of Lespoissesaw therein nothing but an additional facility for taking his life, andpossessing themselves of his wealth, still further increased by his newinheritance. 

His young wife met him with a smiling face, allowing herself to beembraced and led to the conjugal chamber, where she did everything toplease the good man. The following morning she returned him the bunch ofkeys which had been confided to her care. But there was missing that ofthe Cabinet of the Unfortunate Princesses, commonly called the littleCabinet. Bluebeard gently demanded its delivery, and after putting himoff for a time on various pretexts Jeanne returned it to him. 

There now arises a question which cannot be solved without leavingthe limited domain of history to enter the indeterminate regions ofphilosophy. 

Charles Perrault specifically states that the key of the little Cabinetwas a fairy key, that is to say, it was magical, enchanted, endowed withproperties contrary to the laws of nature, at all events, as we conceivethem. We have no proof to the contrary. This is a fitting moment torecall 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 contentmyself with recalling as regards this key, the unanimous opinion of allthe old biographers of Bluebeard; they all affirm that it was a fairykey. This is a point of great importance. Moreover, this key is not theonly object created by human industry which has proved to be endowedwith marvellous properties. Tradition abounds with examples of enchantedswords. Arthur's was a magic sword. And so was that of Joan of Arc, onthe undeniable authority of Jean Chartier; and the proof afforded bythat illustrious chronicler is that when the blade was broken the twopieces refused to be welded together again despite all the efforts ofthe most competent armourers. Victor Hugo speaks in one of his poems ofthose "magic stairways still obscured below. " Many authors even admitthat there are men-magicians who can turn themselves into wolves. Weshall not undertake to combat such a firm and constant belief, and weshall not pretend to decide whether the key of the little Cabinet wasor was not enchanted, for our reserve does not imply that we are in anyuncertainty, and therein resides its merit. But where we find ourselvesin 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 ofthe texts does not so far impress us as to compel us to believe this. Itwas not flecked with blood. Blood had flowed in the little cabinet, butat a time already remote. Whether the key had been washed or whether ithad dried, it was impossible that it should be so stained, and what, inher 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 thathis wife had entered the little cabinet. He noticed that it now appearedcleaner and brighter than when he had given it to her, and was ofopinion 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 resultno grievous outcome for either of us! From that room emanates a maligninfluence from which I would have protected you. If you, in your turnshould 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 hiswords and demeanour expressed only love and melancholy, the young ladyof Montragoux began shrieking at the top of her voice: "Help! Help!he's killing me!" This was the signal agreed upon. On hearing it, theChevalier de la Merlus and the two sons of Madame de Lespoisse were tohave thrown themselves upon Bluebeard and run him through with theirswords. 

But the Chevalier, whom Jeanne had hidden in a cupboard in the room, appeared alone. Monsieur de Montragoux, seeing him leap forth sword inhand, placed himself on guard. Jeanne fled terror-stricken, and mether sister Anne in the gallery. She was not, as has been related, ona tower; for all the towers had been thrown down by order of CardinalRichelieu. Anne was striving to put heart into her two brothers, who, pale and quaking, dared not risk so great a stake. Jeanne hastilyimplored them: "Quick, quick, brothers, save my lover!" Pierre and Cosmethen rushed at Bluebeard. They found him, having disarmed the Chevalierde la Merlus, holding him down with his knee; they treacherously rantheir swords through his body from behind, and continued to strike athim long after he had breathed his last. 

Bluebeard had no heirs. His wife remained mistress of his property. Sheused a part of it to provide a dowry for her sister Anne, another partto buy captains' commissions for her two brothers, and the rest to marrythe Chevalier de la Merlus, who became a very respectable man as soon ashe was wealthy.