Toward half past three in the afternoon, having waited until the house was empty, Saintot at last saw the widow Couturier depart. He climbed down from the hayloft where he had lain concealed since morning, entered the bedchamber, and forced open a wardrobe, followed by its inner drawer. That money lay within was by no means certain: he merely suspected it. The break-in was brief; the woman’s sudden return turned burglary into a struggle, and the pommel of a sword-cane came down upon the head of a ninety-three-year-old woman. The report in the Gazette des Tribunaux, published following the session of June 9, 1874, thus opens upon an ambush of several hours and an act of violence which, according to the accused, was never intended to kill.
The article accords Saintot no Christian name. It presents him as a young journeyman wheelwright of twenty-one, born in Maintenon and employed by Fourbet, a master wheelwright in Dreux. The Assize Court of Eure-et-Loir heard his case alone, under the sub-heading “Attempted Murder. — Robbery.” The Gazette dwells upon his youth and records his demeanor in the dock: head bowed, an air of indifference, his features betraying no emotion throughout the proceedings. These remain the impressions of the court reporter, not proofs of his inner nature. The facts that follow are drawn from the reading of the indictment, Saintot’s subsequent answers, and the recorded testimony.
On February 14, he had abandoned his work. He claimed he had been summoned to Hanches to stand as godfather; the indictment, as summarized by the newspaper, asserted rather that he wished to spend Shrovetide with the Carnis couple, whom he termed his “grandfather and grandmother.” He set off toward Maintenon with fifteen francs of his own and a sword-cane stolen from his master’s son. According to the bill of indictment, he squandered this sum on pleasure excursions on February 15, 16, and 17. Once penniless, he conceived the burglary to satisfy several debts—a motive he would later offer to the presiding judge. The Gazette appends a character sketch to the narrative: irregular habits of labor, occasional drunkenness, and a penchant for weapons. Saintot traveled, it alleged, with a loaded pistol, claiming he feared being set upon and disclaiming any evil intent. This detail forms part of the portrait drawn by the journal; it does not prove the firearm was employed in the crime. Yet it throws into sharper relief the contrast between the object pilfered from Fourbet—the sword-cane—and the armaments with which the press alleged he was wont to surround himself.
During the night of February 17 to 18, he devised the theft. The widow Couturier was an old acquaintance whom he had not visited in years; he was unaware whether she truly possessed any hoard, but he presumed she did. Around eight o’clock in the morning, he slipped into a hayloft adjoining the house and waited there, observing the comings and goings below. The son departed toward three o’clock; his mother left half an hour later. The record recounts this vigil not through any interior monologue, but through the formal accusation read at the hearing and reiterated in the prisoner’s examination. The hours spent lying in wait became the central fact around which the defense would dispute premeditation of murder.
Saintot then descended, penetrated into the house, and forced the armoire and an inner drawer with the ferrule of his cane. He set the drawer upon the bed and was beginning to count the silver coins when he was interrupted. By his own account, he had forced both cupboard and drawer in under five minutes. The old woman returned just as he was pocketing the coins, according to the proceedings. She cried out at the robbery, told him he would not leave until she had ascertained what was stolen, and barred his passage. The accused admitted striking her twice with the heavy pommel of the stick, then seizing her by the throat and hurling her to the ground. After she fell, he stated, he replaced the drawer and fled; he maintained she was still breathing when he took his leave. The blows had laid open her scalp over a wide area; the account notes fingernail scratches and deep contusions about the throat as well. The newspaper ventured that the hardness of bone and cartilage peculiar to advanced age had aided in preserving the victim’s life—an editorial reflection of the Gazette, not a verified medical finding to be accepted as historical fact. The paper gives no figure for the sum Saintot allegedly carried off, nor does it state whether the money was recovered or what became of it after his flight. Yet the headline coupled “attempted murder” with “robbery”: the print laid bare the forced entry and the brawl, while leaving the reader ignorant of the precise amount taken. Saintot insisted he had never meant to take the woman’s life. The chronicle does not elevate this protestation into proven truth; it stands merely as his defense before the magistrate.
The widow Couturier appeared in court supported by her son, who repeated the questions into her ear. The journal notes her agitation, but most especially her answer when the president asked if she recognized the prisoner: “I do not care to look upon him!” She recounted surprising him at her wardrobe, how she had called him a rogue and sought to inspect her losses. Cast down, beaten, and thrown headlong, she commended her soul to God; she claimed to have retained enough awareness to see him still ransacking the room. Brought face to face with Saintot, she recognized him, according to the report; no judicial archives beyond this press account have been consulted.
Doctor Lamy, a physician from Maintenon, subsequently gave testimony regarding the wounds he had examined upon the victim’s head. Following an adjournment, the public prosecutor, M. Despatys, maintained the accusation and urged an affirmative verdict on every count, leaving the question of extenuating circumstances to the jury’s discretion. Maître Petit-Mangin recalled his client’s tender years, arguing that the youth stood before a court of justice for the first time; he contested any premeditation of homicide, emphasizing that Saintot had waited for the occupants to leave before setting foot inside. The defense did not seek to deny the brutality of the assault, but strove to draw a line between the intent to rob and the intent to kill.
The presiding judge summed up the arguments. The Gazette then recorded a sentence of twenty years of penal servitude and ten years of police surveillance, omitting the detailed queries put to the jury and their specific findings. It sheds no light upon the value of the spoils or their eventual recovery; the fifteen original francs had already been spent prior to the deed. The journal also notes that after the confrontation, the widow, fixing her eyes upon Saintot, exclaimed: “Ah! It is you indeed, wretch! You truly thought that I was dead!”