On July 23, 1826, at the hospice of Provins, Françoise Bourgine was at last able to answer her husband. For several days, she had been unable to speak or even make a sign. When asked if she knew who had attacked the two women of the house, she replied at first: “a neighbour.” Her husband and a cousin then recited the names of the inhabitants of Villeflon. To each she answered no, until they reached the name of Ninonet. Only then did she say yes. This initial recognition named one man; the declarations that followed would also implicate his wife.
Nine days earlier, on July 14, Marguerite Durand, widow Corpedanne, and her daughter-in-law Françoise Bourgine had been assaulted in their home at Villeflon. Françoise’s husband returned and found her stretched upon the floor, her head resting against a table. Terrified, he climbed out through the window crying for help, bringing the neighbours running. They entered the house. Marguerite lay lifeless in her bed, bearing upon her face six wounds inflicted by a blunt instrument. Françoise had suffered several wounds to the head and face; senseless, she appeared dead, but was still breathing when laid upon a bed. At that time, she could neither speak nor make any sign.
The neighbours and the authorities discovered several pieces of physical evidence within the house. A piece of rafter, about three feet in length, bore traces of blood and finger-marks at one end. It was judged that these prints were made by the hand of a left-handed individual. A musket hanging in a bedchamber had vanished; bloody splinters of wood were found upon the bed and upon a chair. The investigators recognized the weapon by the marks left by the butt-end upon Marguerite’s face. Upon a silver goblet, further impressions and traces of sweat were likewise associated with the left hand. The key to the door opening onto the street lay in the middle of the room, amidst the blood. The chronicle interprets its position as an indication that Françoise may have attempted to step outside to cry for help.
Two chests of drawers, in which the Corpedanne couple kept their money and effects, had been forced open with a fire shovel. A canvas sack containing thirty francs in five-franc pieces, a few copper coins, and some linen and clothing were missing. The stolen musket belonged to the household. The bag, the copper coins, and the missing effects delineated the disarray of the forced drawers; the rafter, the goblet, and the key remained behind. Yet Françoise, the sole survivor of the assault, was not yet able to name anyone.
On July 20, she was conveyed to the hospice of Provins. Three days later, her husband and her cousin asked her whether she knew who had attacked them. She began by stating it was a neighbour. When they recited all the names of the inhabitants, she answered no, and then acknowledged Ninonet. The examining magistrate and the king’s prosecutor came to see her in turn. She received them in an alarming condition; Champagnac specifies that her faculties were not clear and that she was only just beginning to recover her memory.
In this first detailed declaration, Françoise named Pierre Ninonet. She said she had seen him enter through the window, dressed in a blue cloth coat, specifying that it was not a jacket. She related that she had rushed toward him and called him by his name, but that he did not answer. According to her, he had demanded her purse or her life, then struck her; he had lighted a candle, seized the musket, and left the house. She maintained that she saw him alone. She also mentioned that Ninonet had previously spoken to her about the house and the fact that she remained there alone. According to her, he would come every week and claim that he knew the house better than she did. Thus, her first declaration accused a man acting alone, before she later implicated his wife.
The following day, while her husband remained at her bedside, Françoise added Ninonet’s wife to her narrative. She stated that the two spouses had come together, that Ninonet had struck her while his wife ransacked the furniture. She explained that the woman was searching for money and that she had recognized her garments: a striped woolen petticoat and a blue floral kerchief. Françoise believed they thought the household was wealthy because they paid a higher rent. She asserted that they had only about ten écus to hand and that the three hundred francs each had brought into the marriage had been spent upon the house. These sums and the notion that the rent had enticed the assailants stemmed from her deposition.
At five o’clock that same day, her husband exhorted her to speak the truth: “If it is not Ninonet, you must not say so.” Françoise answered that she would never alter her declaration: Ninonet was there, and his wife with him. A day earlier, Françoise had claimed to have seen only the man. The next day, she added his wife, describing her actions and her attire. Her husband again implored her to speak truly; she maintained this second version, and repeated the accusations during the confrontation in August.
On August 22, the Ninonets, who had been arrested in the interim, were confronted with her. Catching sight of Pierre, Françoise cried out: “I see my executioner! Did you truly think you had killed me?” She then rehearsed the facts already recounted. Confronted with his wife, she recalled the days when, unable to speak, she had watched the woman enter the house, offer her water, and propose her nursing care. Françoise declared she had feared the woman might finish her off or poison her; this was her stated apprehension, not proof of an attempt at poisoning. She also reproached her for having presented herself as a compassionate soul after the attack.
Both accused denied the charges. Pierre Ninonet was thirty-six years of age, his wife twenty-seven. Their trial before the Melun Court of Assizes lasted two days. Françoise gave testimony regarding the events and maintained her accusations. Champagnac describes her deposition as clear and precise, recording the profound attention with which it was received. The spouses, for their part, protested their innocence. The traces left in the house—the wood, the stolen musket, the goblet, the forced drawers—formed part of the case, but none of these objects could resolve the contradictory accounts heard at the bar.
The public prosecutor pressed the indictment with conviction. Both prisoners were sentenced to death. Pierre wept upon hearing the judgment; his wife remained impassive. Their appeal to the Court of Cassation was rejected. On April 20, 1827, they were transferred from the prison of Melun to that of Provins. The king’s prosecutor and the examining magistrate visited them once more, urging them to confess. Both persisted in declaring their innocence. Ninonet’s wife replied to the magistrate that, if God granted her His power, others would be judged in their turn.
The following day, April 21, the two condemned prisoners were executed upon the Place Saint-Ayou in Provins, in the presence of a multitude drawn from the surrounding countryside. Until that final moment, records Champagnac, their language had not altered. The survivor had designated both spouses in her depositions and maintained that accusation at the trial. As for the Ninonets, they protested their innocence until the very moment of execution.