Madame Clovis Hugues.

The cause celebre of Madame Hugues, for shooting Morin, presents many difficulties in arriving at a correct judgment.

A Madame Lenormand, who appears to have been a foolish kind of elderly woman, had excellent cause to suspect her husband of infidelity with a number of females. She placed the matter in the hands of Clerget, who keeps a private inquiry office. This man employed Morin as a clerk and detective. Clerget and Morin plied Madame Lenormant with a quantity of supposed evidence about her husband's relations with Madame Hugues, wife of Clovis Hugues, a member of the Legislature. We cannot ascertain whether there was any acquaintance between Lenormant and Madame Hugues. At all events the charges seem to have been grossly fabricated.

M. and Madame Hugues are prominent members of the Secularist, and indeed Anarchist party. They evinced their sympathy with Louise Michel, who is now being ground to death in prison. Rochefort was a leading figure in the press box at Madame Hugues' trial.

When Morin's charges reached the ears of Madame Hugues, about three years ago, as we judge, she called upon Madame Lenormant, who said, "Pooh, pooh, my child. What does it matter? My husband has so many mistresses that one more or less does not signify." Madame Hugues, however, said it was a very serious matter for her, and wanted to get a retraction from Madame Lenormant. They could not settle this. Madame Hugues took a loaded revolver with her, in calling upon Madame Lenormant, and was only prevented from using it by the interference of M. Hugues, who accompanied her.

page 73

Failing to obtain satisfaction, Madame Hugues began an action for libel against Madame Lenormant, Clerget, and Morin. Madame Lenormant died. Clerget absconded. The proceedings were continued against Morin alone, who was sentenced to two years' imprisonment for libelling Madame Hugues. This was two years Ago. Morin appealed. Through the vexatious delays of the law the appeal has been kept hanging on to the present time.

Madame Hugues admits that she made up her mind to shoot Morin at the very inception of this case, but she was afraid that the act would give colour to the accusation against her. Her proceedings throughout have been most deliberate, without any excuse on the ground of momentary passion. About a fortnight before she shot Morin, she had walked about for a day with a loaded revolver, looking out for him on the public thoroughfares.

On the day of the tragic occurrence there had been proceedings at the High Court of Justice over the case of Hugues v. Morin. When the parties came out of court, Morin, according to Madame Hugues, darted at her one of his usual triumphant and insulting looks. She had the revolver loaded in six chambers, up her sleeve. She drew it forth, and fired all the chambers successively at Morin who lowered his head, and put up an arm as if to protect it. Three of the shots hit him. He was carried home, and died ten days afterwards. M. Hugues was close by when his wife fired the shots. We suppose he made some effort to stop her, but after it was done he said, in the style so peculiarly French, "My child, thou hast well done."

The trial was rattled on with a rapidity unknown to English law. There was no intermediary procedure at a police court. The benefits of the bi-cameral system of inquiry were strikingly evinced by its absence in this case.

The trial was before three judges and a jury of twelve. M. de Glajeux acted as presiding judge, and the others are described as almost dummies. Much obloquy has been bestowed on M. de Glajeux, a ferrety little man, who hunted Madame Hugues, in examination, with all the bloodthirstiness of a tiger, so they say. He presided at the sensational Fenayrou trial, when a husband, his wife, and his brother were convicted of murdering the wife's paramour. In that case his network closed around with the accompaniment of public sympathy.

It appears to us that M. de Glajeux carried out his duty with a fearless contempt for an excited public. An accused person in France has scarcely any of the English safeguards. The prisoner is cross-examined not only by the prosecuting counsel, but also by the judge. M. de Glajeux is famed for his skill in trapping prisoners.

His duel with Madame Hugues was described by the dramatic artists present as simply magnificent. There was the keen little page 74 judge, with a Jack Ketch cap on, exchanging rapier thrusts with a large and fine-looking woman dressed in black, including a velvet mantle and a small black bonnet, which displayed to the full her Jewish-looking, pale, fat, but handsome, visage.

Where the judge had her on the hip was over the post-cards. She said her crime (excuse the word) would never have been committed but for a shoal of post-cards sent to her and her husband by Morin. They were villainous, and some grossly indecent. Morin never could speak after he was shot, but he wrote, "I never sent the post-cards." None of them were in his hand-wri ting. Madame Hugues' very thin answer to the judge was that the postcards must have come from Morin's friends, if not from himself, and were at his instigation. They continued to flow in upon the Hugues even after Morin's death.

A glaring scandal was the audience in court turning the place into a theatre. The crush was tremendous, although an endeavour had been made to regulate the admissions. The whole thing was a disgusting exhibition of the blow-flies of society—its judges' friends, ambassadors, ambassadrices, authors, actors, actresses, and all the rest of the idlers about the ship.

We have mentioned the Radical proclivities of Hugues and his wife. These were enough to divide society into two camps, each represented by its newspapers. Madame Hugues has two children.

The presiding judge insisted on having the trial finished in one day, so that it lasted till near two o'clock in the morning. All this helped to work up the desperate excitement. Madame Hugues was acquitted, after the jury had deliberated twenty-five minutes. Only six were straight out for acquittal, two being for a conviction, and the other four wouldn't vote at all. We presume they had the terrors of some kind of avenger before them, such as follows the Irish juries. If a government could not protect us we would certainly refuse to jurise on its cases.

The minimum sentence for Madame Hugues' offence would have been five years. It is believed the jury would have convicted if they were assured that the sentence would be light. The prosecuting counsel hinted to them that the sentence would probably be commuted. Altogether we are surprised at the irregularity of French courts, as brought out in this case. The style is the same as we joke at on the stage.

Talking of sentences, we have often thought that juries ought to impose them. A convict's term depends on the mere whim of the judge—perhaps on what he had for dinner.

We ought to have stated higher up that the accusation by Morin, against Madame Hugues, referred to a period before her marriage, when she was Mdlle. Rayonneau. She is twenty-nine years of age.