<SPAN name="chap32"></SPAN>
<h3> THE FALSE DAUPHINS: MATHURIN BRUNEAU. </h3>
<p>Mathurin Bruneau was the son of a maker of wooden shoes, and was born
at Vezin, in the department of the Marne-et-Loire. By his eleventh
year the precocious rogue had already endeavoured to palm himself off
as a nobleman's son, and encouraged, apparently, by the facility with
which his claims were acknowledged, he determined to fly at a higher
game, ultimately giving forth that he was the Duke of Normandy.
Although this impostor never was anything but a vulgar peasant, devoid
of education and good manners, he acquired a large following, and
really became a source of danger to the Government. In 1817, that is
to say, in the early days of the Bourbon restoration, when the throne
was in a very precarious condition, this claimant, taking advantage of
a famine and the general discontent, had placards posted on the walls
and public places of Rouen, denouncing the reigning monarch, Louis the
Eighteenth, claiming the crown for himself as the legitimate son of
Louis the Sixteenth, and promising, if placed on the throne, to reduce
the price of bread to three sous per pound. The long wars of the
empire had exhausted France, and reduced the provinces to such a
condition of misery that any inflammatory leader was likely to obtain a
large retinue of discontented followers, so that even so mean and
insignificant a personage as Bruneau was, was dangerous.</p>
<p>Bruneau, according to the minute and circumstantial investigation which
Monsieur Verdi�re made into the past events of his life, had undergone
a series of adventures as surprising as those of Gil Blas, and had
perpetrated a variety of deceptions of a most extraordinary nature,
culminating in his grand assumption of the <i>r�le</i> of the dauphin, the
titular "Louis the Seventeenth." When this ridiculous pretender, who
had already undergone imprisonment as a rogue and an <i>imbecile</i>, first
attempted to take upon himself the royal title, he was attired, says
his historian, in nothing but a nankin vest, linen trousers, and a
cotton cap, stockingless and moneyless,—not even a claimant was ever
in worse condition. According to the best account, this absurd
impostor was first prompted to assume the dauphin's name at the
suggestion of an eating-house keeper of Pont-de-C�, who had formerly
been cook to Louis the Sixteenth.</p>
<p>Orders were issued for the arrest of the audacious pretender, but he
did not wait for them to be put into execution. He decamped, and was
traced to St. Malo, and arrested there. He was so illiterate that he
could neither read nor write; but for all that he caused a letter to be
written to the King, Louis the Eighteenth, in which, under the title of
the Dauphin, he reclaimed his paternal heritage. Sent to Bic�tre, in
January 1816, Bruneau did not suffer himself to be cast down. In his
leisure hours he employed himself at his juvenile occupation of making
wooden shoes; but with an eye to future opportunities he endeavoured to
make proselytes to his regal pretensions. Among his companions in
misery he discovered some very useful converts or accomplices,
including Larcher, a pretended priest; Tourly, a forger; the Abb�
Matouillet; Branzon, condemned for robbery; and other equally
respectable associates. The rumour was speedily noised abroad that
"Louis the Seventeenth" was at Bic�tre, and visitors continually came
to see "the unfortunate prince," and leave him substantial proofs of
their devotion and sympathy. They raised a civil list for him,
overwhelmed him with unsolicited gifts, wrote the "M�moires du Prince,"
and eventually made so great a stir in the city that the judicial
authorities were compelled to interfere, and on the 10th of February,
1818, had Bruneau up before the Police Tribunal. The accused presented
himself in his invariable cotton cap; and mean, illiterate, and
miserable as was his appearance, was saluted by a few faint cries of
"<i>Vive Louis the Seventeenth!</i>" What the man wanted in dignity he made
up for with assurance; and although Monsieur Dossier, the Procureur du
Roi, with pitiless severity disclosed the whole of the impostor's past
career, the insolent vagabond contested to the end of his
cross-examination that he was the veritable Duke of Normandy. His
vulgarity, his contradictions, and his whole demeanour were so
palpable, it is wonderful that a single person could have been duped.
And yet numerous people, many of them holding respectable positions in
society, permitted themselves to be fooled, and even subscribed large
sums of money for the pretender's support. The money which had been
subscribed for this <i>soi disant</i> "Louis the Seventeenth" had been
chiefly deposited at the Bank of France—a fact of which the
prosecution was, of course, aware,—and therefore the judges did not
content themselves with condemning Bruneau to five years' imprisonment
for his imposture, and a further term of two years, to commence at the
expiration of the five, for his insolent behaviour during his trial,
but they also sentenced him to a fine of three thousand francs, to be
paid to the Government, and to defray three-quarters of the cost of his
prosecution, to meet which penalties the moneys standing to his credit
at the bank were confiscated. It was also ordered that at the
expiration of his term of imprisonment Bruneau should remain at the
disposal of the Government, to determine what was thought fit as to his
future. Bruneau's accomplice in the fraud was sentenced to two years'
imprisonment, and the payment of one-fourth of the cost of the
prosecution. Bruneau died in prison.</p>
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