which he cleared Paris of more than twenty the condemned men passed through a hole perthousand malefactors of the worst description.forated in the wall, within three paces of a senAfter the turning period of Vidocq's con- tinel, who had not the slightest suspicion of demnation for forgery, his life was a series of what was going on. escapes from prison, each more impudent, ingenious, and daring than the other. On one occasion, in the Rue Equermoise, the principal street of Lille, he stumbled on a police-agent, face to face, and pretended to surrender, but got away from his captor by throwing cinder-ashes in his eyes. Another time, the Commissary Jacquard got information that he was going to dine in the Rue Notre-Dame, at a house where meals were served to small parties of people. The commissary proceeded there, accompanied by four attendants, whom he left on the ground floor, and went up-stairs himself to the very room where Vidocq was seated at table with a couple of ladies. The fourth guest, a recruiting sergeant, had not yet arrived. Vidocq recognised the commissary, who, never having seen the object of his search, had not the same advantage; his disguise, moreover, would have thrown out all the written descriptions in the world. Without being disconcerted in the least, Vidocq accosted the intruder, in an easy tone of voice, and requested him to step into a side room, which had a glass door opening into the large dining-room, on pretence that he had something of importance to communicate.

'You are looking out for Vidocq? If you will only wait ten minutes, I will point him out to you. This is his knife and fork and his plate; he cannot be long. When he comes in, I will make signs to you; but, if you are alone, I doubt whether you will be able to take him, because he is armed, and is resolved to defend himself."

"My men are on the staircase; and if he gets away from me, they

"Do not leave them there on any account. If Vidocq only catch sight of them, he will suspect there is something in the wind, and your bird will soon be flown."

"But where can I put them?"

"Eh! Mon Dieu, in this little room. But, above all, take care not to make any noise: that would spoil everything. I have quite as much interest as you can have, in getting him out of the way."

The commissary and his agents retired, therefore, into the little room. The door was strong, and was soon double-locked. Their unknown friend, sure of making his escape, shouted to them, "You are looking out for Vidocq? Well; it is Vidocq who has caught and caged you. Good-by, till next time."

Two other performances in the same style of acting answered his purpose equally well, but he was arrested at last, and brought back to the Tour Saint-Pierre, where, for greater safety, he was put into a dungeon, with criminals condemned to death. His arrival could not have been more opportune; his new companions had long been preparing for a flight, in which he was invited to take part, and which was put in practice the third night afterwards. Eight of

Seven prisoners still remained. According to custom on such occasions, they drew straws to decide who was to follow the first of the seven. The lot fell to Vidocq, who undressed himself in order to slip more easily through the opening, which was very narrow; but, to everybody's disappointment, he stuck fast, unable to move either backwards or forwards. In vain his companions endeavoured to pull him out by main strength; he was caught and nipped as it were in a vice, and his sufferings became so intolerable, that, despairing of any aid from within, he called the sentinel, to beg for help from without. The soldier approached with the utmost precaution. At his shouts, the guard seized their arms, the turnkeys hastened to the spot with lighted torches, and Vidocq was dragged out of the hole in the masonry, leaving strips of skin behind him. Wounded as he was, he was immediately transferred to the prison called the Petit-Hôtel, where he was thrust into a dungeon and loaded with irons, hand and foot.

This severe lesson did not deter him from again attempting to escape. One day he was brought up for examination, together with seventeen other prisoners. Two gendarmes guarded them in the magistrate's ante-chamber, whilst a picket of the line kept watch outside. One of the gendarmes laid down his hat and cloak to go into the magistrate's presence. A bell rang to summon his comrade. In an instant, Vidocq threw the cloak over his shoulders, stuck the cocked-hat on his head, took one of the prisoners by the arm, as if leading him out for a breath of air, knocked at the door, which was speedily opened by a corporal, and next moment was in the street.

As a change, he joined a company of mountebanks who were performing pantomimes at Courtrai and Ghent. He lived very comfortably on the share of the receipts allotted to him. But one evening, just as he was about to make his appearance before the admiring spectators, he was arrested on the information of the clown, who was furious at being outshone by a brighter star. The consequence was a dungeon at Douai, irons hand and foot, and the society of a couple of finished scoundrels. At Toulon, he managed to pass out of the town, through the gates, acting on the bright idea-suggested by a female friend-of joining the followers of a funeral. He employed the freedom so obtained, to enlist in a band of highway robbers, who turned him out, a fortnight afterwards, on discovering, by the mark on his shirt, that he came from the galleys.

After numberless similar reimprisonments and re-escapes, he tried hard to lead a comparatively quiet and regular life, in the Faubourg St. Denis, Paris, where he was not known. He set up as a tailor, entered into the semblance of domestic arrangements (his mother living with him, together with a husbandless lady called Annette),

found his affairs prospering, and saw rising before had been purposely set at liberty. When he his eyes the vision of a happy life, when he was was fetched away from La Force, the strictest recognised, and consequently laid under contri- formalities were observed; he was handcuffed bution, by two former comrades from the galleys and put into the prisoners' van; but it was of Brest, who at first mulcted him to the amount agreed that he should break out of it on the of forty or fifty francs, and afterwards wanted road, which he did. That same evening, the to live entirely at his expense. It requires no whole staff of the police were hunting after him. very vivid imagination to compose the sequel of The escape made a great noise, especially at La the romance; the tyranny of these undesirable Force, where his friends celebrated it by drinking acquaintances became at length unbearable. his health, wishing him a pleasant journey! He They brought him stolen goods, and compelled continued to be admitted, not only without mishim to turn receiver, whether he would or no. trust, but with open arms and a hearty welcome, He was obliged to burn his carriole, or covered into the society and the intimate confidence of cart, because he had lent it to these very dear the ruffians whom he was henceforward charged, friends, who had made use of it for the commis- not merely to bring to condemnation, but to sion of a murder in the banlieue. A third man, arrest by force in case of need. It is evipresented by the two Arcadians, insisted on dent that his new speciality was not a bed of having impressions of the keys of all the drapers roses. Perhaps he had even more to fear with whom Vidocq was in the habit of doing from the jealousy of his new colleagues than business. from the resentment of the associates whom he had deserted. If his life were in danger every day, every day also was he the object of false reports and calumnious denunciations. Henry, satisfied with his zeal and address, promised to communicate such disparagement to him, in order that he might answer in writing; and, the better to testify his confidence, he entrusted him with the most difficult missions, in which other agents had completely failed.

Vidocq was conscious, now that henceforth he must either be the tool and the slave of thieves and murderers, or must be their master and their scourge. In this dilemma, he of fered his services to M. Henry, Chief of the Second Division of Police, on the sole condition that he should not be sent back to the galleys, but that he should finish the remaining term of his sentence in any prison they liked to appoint. His first overture was coldly received and not accepted; his name was not even asked; and he was obliged to hide himself disguised as an "Invalide" who had lost his left arm. Unfortunately, he took refuge with a couple of coiners, with whom he ventured to remonstrate on their dangerous and illegal trade. They, fearing some indiscretion on his part, thought it best to forestal him by calling the attention of the authorities to their scrupulous lodger. He was arrested in his shirt on the top of a roof, and brought before M. Henry, who remembered the advances he had lately made, and promised to interest himself in his welfare. Three months afterwards, due inquiry having been made, it was decided to accept the bargain. What Vidocq undertook to do, he did, thoroughly, efficiently, and unflinchingly. He gloried in the name of spy; treachery brought no shame to his cheek he summed up all with the satanic exclamation, "Evil, be thou my good!" The way in which he set about his task shows the style of his abilities.

"It would not do to let the criminal world have the slightest inkling of the understanding that had been come to; and therefore, when the arrangement was concluded, he was transferred as a convict to the prison of La Force. On arriving at his new residence, he took great care, in concert with the police, to spread the report that he was implicated in a most serious affair, for which evidence was then being sought. M. Henry, the person by whom the bargain was made, spoke of his protégé's sagacity in such high terms to the Préfet of Police, that it was agreed to put an end to his captivity at once. But every precaution was taken to avoid any suspicion that the prisoner

M.

Vidocq's enemies, and he had plenty of them first, every criminal, and, secondly, every policeman-asserted that if he effected such numerous arrests, it was only by preparing for them by the odious means of provocation of crime. He denied it stoutly; but he confessed that he was often obliged, not to make criminal propositions, but to pretend to accept those that were made to him. Nor was this all; a heap of reports, some signed, some anonymous, accused him of taking advantage of his position to carry on robbery on a gigantic scale. The Chief of the Second Division replied, "If Vidocq commits such important thefts as you say, you must be very clumsy hands at your business not to have caught him in the fact. Have I ever told you not to watch his movements, exactly as other police agents are watched ?"

When these enemies found that personal attacks were a waste of time, they directed their hostilities against the men belonging to his brigade, whom they affected to call "Vidocq's gang," as if they were a gang of robbers, or a gang of murderers. It is certain that nine-tenths of them came from the galleys and the central prisons. This formed part of Vidocq's system, for he was convinced that, in order to make war effectually on the criminal portion of society, you must be acquainted with their language, their manners, and their habits. Naturally enough, the more respectable peace-officers felt both dislike and jealousy of the Brigade of Surety, who usurped their most important functions. According to them, the Brigade was the secret cause of every robbery committed in Paris. Vidocq was in a rage. He tried hard to discover some method of putting the honour of his agents beyond sus

picion. The speciality of their service prevented Therefore, ever since his return to Paris (whither their being dressed in uniform; he therefore he had come without asking leave of the authocompelled them to wear gloves. Henceforward, rities at Brest, where quarters had been assigned no one could reproach his men with doing bu- to him at the government expense), the police siness" in the crowd. The most practised hand, agents were more afraid of him than he was of unless completely naked, is powerless to prig. them. The agents of the Brigade of Surety were no sinecurists. On ordinary occasions they were on duty eighteen hours out of the twenty-four; but when they were out on "an expedition," it might be three or four days before they got back to their lodgings. As for their chief, it was a problem for them, as for everybody else, to know where and when he slept. At what-hung with yellow silk and embroidered muslin ever hour they wanted him, they always found him dressed, always ready, always close shaved, like an actor-in order to be able to put on wigs, whiskers, and moustaches, of all ages and all colours. It was nothing uncommon to see him disguised in ten different costumes in the course of one day.

Of Vidocq's address and powers of endurance in tracking out and capturing his human game, the two following anecdotes exhibit a slight sample.

It is the custom in France for persons employed in an official capacity to pay their respects to the head of their department on New Year's-day, often accompanying their compliments with a trifling gift, such as a flower or a fruit. There was a redoubtable robber, named Delvèze the Younger, once a hackney-coachman, who had defied the police to arrest him, for two years and a half. On the 1st of January, 1813, Vidocq went to pay his court to M. Henry, and addressed him thus: "I have the honour to wish you a happy new year, accompanied by the famous Delvèze."

That is what I call something like a New Year's gift," said M. Henry, when he saw the prisoner. 'I should be very glad if each of you gentlemen now present, could offer me the like!"

When, on the 15th of December, M. Henry entrusted Vidocq with the dangerous mission of arresting Fossard, the only information he could give him was this: "Fossard is living in Paris, in some street which leads from the Halle to the Boulevard; it is not known on what story he lodges, but the windows of his apartment are curtains. In the same house there lives a humpbacked young woman, a dressmaker by trade, who is on friendly terms with Fossard's female companion."

These indications were vague enough. A deformed girl is no rarity in any house in Paris which contains a multitude of families; and there are yellow curtains in at least one house in twenty. Never mind; Vidocq set to work, made up and disguised to represent a gentleman sixty years of age, in easy circumstances, and in sufficient preservation to attract the favourable notice of a crook-backed lady, who had left her minority at several years' distance. After twelve days of fruitless research, he discovered his charmer in the third story of a house in the Rue du Petit-Carreau. Presenting himself as the unfortunate husband of the woman with whom Fossard was living, he learned that the latter person had changed his lodgings, that he styled himself Monsieur Hazard, and that he resided in a smart house at the corner of the streets Duphot and St. Honoré.

Vidocq then disguised himself as a coalheaver, and did it so well, that his mother and his subordinates conversed with him for some time without recognising him. In this costume, he ascertained that the pretended M. Hazard never went out without being armed to the teeth, and New Year's gifts are offered in the first place that his elegant white handkerchief always conaccording to the ability of the giver; and, se- tained a brace of pistols. He came to the conclucondly, according to the taste of the person to sion that he had to deal with a man who could whom they are offered. Vidocq was delighted only be arrested in bed, and he set about conto find the arrest of Delvèze so thoroughly ap- sidering the means of success. It appeared to preciated by his superiors, although it increased him that the best thing he could do was to inthe hatred and jealousy of the peace-officers spire the master of the wine-shop, in whose and their agents. Consequently, on the 1st of house Fossard lodged, with fears respecting his January, 1814, he brought another present of property, and even for his life. To this effect, the same nature, but of much greater import-after resuming his ordinary dress and mien, he ance, in the person of Fossard, an escaped galley-presented himself to the worthy citizen; begging slave, already celebrated, but who was destined in solemn tones the favour of a little private subsequently to immortalise himself by the conversation, he addressed him to the following medal robbery at the Bibliothèque. Fossard purport: was a man of fifty years of age, of herculean "I am commissioned to warn you, on the part stature, and endowed with long-tried strength of the police, that you are about to be robbed. and courage. It was known that he had made The robber who has projected the crime, and up his mind to do anything rather than return who perhaps will execute it himself, lodges in to the galleys; it was known, moreover, that he your house. The woman who is with him, somewas armed at all points; that he even carried times comes and seats herself behind your pistols concealed in the fine lawn pocket-hand- counter, by the side of your wife. While kerchief which always dangled in his hand, per- thus engaged in conversation, she has managed fectly determined to blow out the brains of the to obtain an impression of the key which opens first man who should attempt to arrest him. the door by which the thieves are to enter.

They will cut our throats!" said the terrified wine-seller, immediately calling his wife to communicate to her this agreeable piece of news. "What will this world come to! Would you believe it, my dear? That Madame Hazard, so smooth and saintly, that the curé would give her absolution without hearing her confession, has been trying to work our ruin. This very night, they are coming to murder us."

66

No, no," interrupted Vidocq; "make your minds easy: It is not to come off to-night; the till won't be heavy enough. They are waiting till Twelfth Day is over; but, if you are discreet, and will agree to second me, we will set all that to rights."

""Tis I, Madame Hazard; 'tis Louis. My aunt is suddenly taken very ill, and she begs you to give her a little eau-de-Cologne. She says she is dying. I have brought a light."

The door opened; but scarcely could the lady show herself before she was dragged away by a couple of powerful gendarmes, who clapped a cloth on her mouth to prevent her from screaming. Vidocq threw himself upon Fossard. Stupified by the suddenness of the event, and already handcuffed and bound in his bed, he was taken prisoner before he had time to make a single movement or to utter a single word. His astonishment was so great, that he was nearly an hour before he recovered his speech. When lights were brought in, and he saw his enemy's coal-heaver's dress and blackened face, he was seized with redoubled terror.

The wine-merchant and his wife entreated Monsieur le Chef de la Police de Sûreté to ease them, as soon as possible, of so disagreeable a tenant, and not to leave them in a state of apprehension until Twelfth Night was over. Vidocq at first pretended that that would not suit his plans; then, he affected to yield, solely on account of the lively interest with which these worthy people inspired him. The married pair undertook to watch Fossard's movements, and to keep up a constant communication with Vidocq, who had established his quarter-general at the neighbouring guard-house, in which a commissaire of gendarmes installed himself in permanence, awaiting the moment of action. At eleven o'clock of the night of the 31st of December, Fossard came home without suspicion, humming a tune as he walked upstairs. Twenty minutes afterwards, the disappearance of the light indicated that he had gone to bed. Vidocq and all his companions were quietly let in by the wine-seller. A fresh consultation was held at once as to the means of seizing Fossard without running too great risks. Vidocq's first idea was to do nothing before morning. He was informed that Fossard's lady companion came down stairs very early to fetch milk. The object was to seize this woman, take possession of the key, and so to enter her friend's bedroom unannounced; but might it not happen that, contrary to custom, he might come down stairs first? This reflection led to the adoption of another expedient. The mistress of the wine-shop, to whom M. Hazard always behaved with great politeness, had one of her THE UNCOMMERCIAL TRAVELLER,

nephews staying with her. He was tolerably intelligent for a child of ten years of age, and as precociously anxious to earn money as any little Norman need be. He was promised a reward if, under the pretext of his aunt's being

Search was made in the dwelling of this brigand, who had acquired a redoubtable reputation. A great quantity of jewellery, diamonds, and a sum of eight or ten thousand francs were found. While this investigation was going on, Fossard, who had recovered his presence of mind, confided to Vidocq that beneath the marble top of the side-table there were still ten notes of a thousand francs each. "Take them," he said; "we will share them between us; or, rather, you shall keep what you please, for yourself." Vidocq in fact did take the notes as he was requested. They got into a hackneycoach and drove to M. Henry's office, where the articles found in Fossard's apartments were deposited. An inventory was made of them. When they came to the last item, the Commissary who had accompanied the expedition for formality's sake, observed, "We have now only to close the procès-verbal." "Wait an instant," cried Vidocq. "Here are ten thousand francs besides, which the prisoner gave me." So saying, he displayed the notes-to Fossard's great indignation. He darted one of those glances whose interpretation is, "This trick I will never forgive you!"

The Twelfth Journey of

A SERIES OF OCCASIONAL JOURNEYS,

BY CHARLES DICKENS,

Will appear Next Week.

The right of Translating Articles from ALL THE YEAR ROUND is reserved by the Authors.

Published at the Office. No. 2. Welington Street, Strand Panted y C. Wie Beaufort Hons Strand.

ALL THE YEAR ROUND.

A WEEKLY JOURNAL.

CONDUCTED BY CHARLES DICKENS.

WITH WHICH IS INCORPORATED HOUSEHOLD WORDS.

SATURDAY, JULY 21, 1860.