Urbain Grandier by Alexandre Dumas, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book here . Chapter XII URBAIN GRANDIER - CHAPTER XII This time it was not the man who was executed who was guilty, but the executioners; consequently we feel sure that our readers will be anxious to learn something of their fate. Pere Lactance died in the most terrible agony on September 18th, 1634, exactly a month from the date of Grandier’s death. His brother-monks considered that this was due to the vengeance of Satan; but others were not wanting who said, remembering the summons uttered by Grandier, that it was rather due to the justice of God. Several attendant circumstances seemed to favour the latter opinion. The author of the History of the Devils of Loudzin gives an account of one of these circumstances, for the authenticity of which he vouches, and from which we extract the following: “Some days after the execution of Grandier, Pere Lactance fell ill of the disease of which he died. Feeling that it was of supernatural origin, he determined to take a pilgrimage to Notre Dame des Andilliers de Saumur, where many miracles were wrought, and which was held in high estimation in the neighbourhood. A place in the carriage of the Sieur de Canaye was offered him for the journey; for this gentleman, accompanied by a large party on pleasure bent, was just then setting out for his estate of Grand Fonds, which lay in the same direction. The reason for the offer was that Canaye and his friends, having heard that the last words of Grandier had affected Pere Lactance’s mind, expected to find a great deal of amusement in exciting the terrors of their travelling-companion. And in truth, for a day or two, the boon companions sharpened their wits at the expense of the worthy monk, when all at once, on a good road and without apparent cause, the carriage overturned. Though no one was hurt, the accident appeared so strange to the pleasure-seekers that it put an end to the jokes of even the boldest among them. Pere Lactance himself appeared melancholy and preoccupied, and that evening at supper refused to eat, repeating over and over again— “‘It was wrong of me to deny Grandier the confessor he asked for; God is punishing me, God is punishing me!’ “On the following morning the journey was resumed, but the evident distress of mind under which Pere Lactance laboured had so damped the spirits of the party that all their gaiety had disappeared. Suddenly, just outside Fenet, where the road was in excellent condition and no obstacle to their progress apparent, the carriage upset for the second time. Although again no one was hurt, the travellers felt that there was among them someone against whom God’s anger was turned, and their suspicions pointing to Pere Lactance, they went on their way, leaving him behind, and feeling very uncomfortable at the thought that they had spent two or three days in his society. “Pere Lactance at last reached Notre-Dame des Andilliers; but however numerous were the miracles there performed, the remission of the doom pronounced by the martyr on Pere Lactance was not added to their number; and at a quarter-past six on September 18th, exactly a month to the very minute after Grandier’s death, Pere Lactance expired in excruciating agony.” Pere Tranquille’s turn came four years later. The malady which attacked him was so extraordinary that the physicians were quite at a loss, and forced to declare their ignorance of any remedy. His shrieks and blasphemies were so distinctly heard in the streets, that his brother Franciscans, fearing the effect they would have on his after-reputation, especially in the minds of those who had seen Grandier die with words of prayer on his lips, spread abroad the report that the devils whom he had expelled from the bodies of the nuns had entered into the body of the exorcist. He died shrieking— “My God! how I suffer! Not all the devils and all the damned together endure what I endure!” His panegyrist, in whose book we find all the horrible details of his death employed to much purpose to illustrate the advantages of belonging to the true faith, remarks— “Truly big generous heart must have been a hot hell for those fiends who entered his body to torment it.” The following epitaph which was placed over his grave was interpreted, according to the prepossessions of those who read it, either as a testimony to his sanctity or as a proof of his punishment:— “Here lies Pere Tranquille, of Saint-Remi; a humble Capuchin preacher. The demons no longer able to endure his fearlessly exercised power as an exorcist, and encouraged by sorcerers, tortured him to death, on May 31st, 1638.” But a death about which there could be no doubt as to the cause was that of the surgeon Mannouri, the same who had, as the reader may recollect, been the first to torture Grandier. One evening about ten o’clock he was returning from a visit to a patient who lived on the outskirts of the town, accompanied by a colleague and preceded by his surgery attendant carrying a lantern. When they reached the centre of the town in the rue Grand-Pave, which passes between the walls of the castle grounds and the gardens of the Franciscan monastery, Mannouri suddenly stopped, and, staring fixedly at some object which was invisible to his companions, exclaimed with a start— “Oh! there is Grandier! “Where? where?” cried the others. He pointed in the direction towards which his eyes were turned, and beginning to tremble violently, asked— “What do you want with me, Grandier? What do you want?” A moment later he added “Yes-yes, I am coming.” Immediately it seemed as if the vision vanished from before his eyes, but the effect remained. His brother-surgeon and the servant brought him home, but neither candles nor the light of day could allay his fears; his disordered brain showed him Grandier ever standing at the foot of his bed. A whole week he continued, as was known all over the town, in this condition of abject terror; then the spectre seemed to move from its place and gradually to draw nearer, for he kept on repeating, “He is coming! he is coming!” and at length, towards evening, at about the same hour at which Grandier expired, Surgeon Mannouri drew his last breath. We have still to tell of M. de Laubardemont. All we know is thus related in the letters of M. de Patin:— “On the 9th inst., at nine o’clock in the evening, a carriage was attacked by robbers; on hearing the noise the townspeople ran to the spot, drawn thither as much by curiosity as by humanity. A few shots were exchanged and the robbers put to flight, with the exception of one man belonging to their band who was taken prisoner, and another who lay wounded on the paving-stones. This latter died next day without having spoken, and left no clue behind as to who he was. His identity was, however, at length made clear. He was the son of a high dignitary named de Laubardemont, who in 1634, as royal commissioner, condemned Urbain Grandier, a poor, priest of Loudun, to be burnt alive, under the pretence that he had caused several nuns of Loudun to be possessed by devils. These nuns he had so tutored as to their behaviour that many people foolishly believed them to be demoniacs. May we not regard the fate of his son as a chastisement inflicted by Heaven on this unjust judge—an expiation exacted for the pitilessly cruel death inflicted on his victim, whose blood still cries unto the Lord from the ground?” Naturally the persecution of Urbain Grandier attracted the attention not only of journalists but of poets. Among the many poems which were inspired by it, the following is one of the best. Urbain speaks: “From hell came the tidings that by horrible sanctions I had made a pact with the devil to have power over women: Though not one could be found to accuse me. In the trial which delivered me to torture and the stake, The demon who accused me invented and suggested the crime, And his testimony was the only proof against me. The English in their rage burnt the Maid alive; Like her, I too fell a victim to revenge; We were both accused falsely of the same crime; In Paris she is adored, in London abhorred; In Loudun some hold me guilty of witchcraft, Some believe me innocent; some halt between two minds. Like Hercules, I loved passionately; Like him, I was consumed by fire; But he by death became a god. The injustice of my death was so well concealed That no one can judge whether the flames saved or destroyed me; Whether they blackened me for hell, or purified me for heaven. In vain did I suffer torments with unshaken resolution; They said that I felt no pain, being a sorcerer died unrepentant; That the prayers I uttered were impious words; That in kissing the image on the cross I spat in its face; That casting my eyes to heaven I mocked the saints; That when I seemed to call on God, I invoked the devil Others, more charitable, say, in spite of their hatred of my crime, That my death may be admired although my life was not blameless; That my resignation showed that I died in hope and faith; That to forgive, to suffer without complaint or murmur, Is perfect love; and that the soul is purified From the sins of life by a death like mine.” About HackerNoon Book Series: We bring you the most important technical, scientific, and insightful public domain books. This book is part of the public domain. Alexandre Dumas (2004). Urbain Grandier. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/2746/pg2746-images.html This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org , located at https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html .

This time it was not the man who was executed

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