It is an advocate’s letter, published in the Gazette at the close of 1776, which opens upon an earnest plea: that the vindication of four men be proclaimed abroad, since it is far more gratifying, he observes, to publish the absolution of a citizen than his punishment.
In the month of April, furniture and effects were plundered from the Château des Faures—the seat of President Poncet de la Rivière—and, most grievous of all, the sacred vessels of his private chapel. Rumour of the larceny spread swiftly, and the enemies of a surgeon from Le Gué-de-Longroi, one Cirasse, lost no time in insinuating that he was the culprit.
Their evidence hung upon a journey. The surgeon’s wife had set out for Paris shortly thereafter; it was promptly broadcast that she had gone thither to hawk the holy vessels purloined by her husband. In truth, she had travelled solely to attend the nuptials of a kinswoman.
Upon these malicious whispers, a decree of arrest was issued against the surgeon, and he was conveyed to prison. Soon other purported accomplices were dragged into his shadow: a manservant bearing the same name, an innkeeper of the village, Charles Rebiffé, and Hector Martin, a journeyman wheelwright from Prunay-sous-Ablis. Despite the utter want of evidence, they languished in the dungeon until the first of October, on which day the lieutenant general of the bailiwick of Montfort-l’Amaury, persuaded of their innocence, discharged them of all accusations, ordered their release, the expunction of their committal entries from the prison registry, and the printing and public posting of the judgment.
The advocate did not rest content with this, and herein lies the poignant character of his letter. A sentence posted within the bailiwick is read only within the district; yet two of these men depended upon public trust for their livelihood—a surgeon and an innkeeper. What they required was the widest possible renown. And he adds, with sorrow, that their indigence left them powerless to pursue the authors of their misfortunes in court and claim the damages so rightfully owed to them.
The president’s sacred vessels were never recovered—at least so far as the letter recounts. What was truly stolen, above all else, were months from the lives of four men, on the mere strength of a wedding journey.
Gazette des tribunaux, 1776, letter from Maître Hue du Taillis, advocate to the Parlement (Chartres, 15 December 1776), regarding the sentence of the bailiwick of Montfort-l'Amaury of 1 October 1776.