Louis Dominique Cartouche, the son of a rcspcctable, wellto-do wine-seller, mi boïn at Paris in October, 1693. ' Anxious to secure for his son a higher position than he bimself occupied, the I father sent him to tho Ooilege of Clermont, but his native instinots soon asserted themselvea; lic ran away and joined a party of gypsies. He was adopted as a ehild of the band, and his new friends formed the most sanguine anticipations as to his future. Bold, orafty, and inventive, he was nimble as an ape, pliant as an acrobat. To an j conquerable loveof wandering, of pleasure, and idleness, he united a j able ability to endure, wiien necessary, priyation and fatigue. After he had j mained three years with the gypsies, rhey were abruptly ordered by the üanient of Bouen to quit the province, ! and, as Cartouche was sick at the time, j hey left Mm behind. On his recovery j he fcmnd himself alone and friendless in ! the streets of Rouen, without a single sou in his pocket. By good luck he feil in with an imcle, who fod, clothed him, and sent him home, thereby affording him another j opportunity for pursuing an honest reer. A domestic life, however, had no charms for the ex-gypsy, After a few months (ranquility he decamped j from the paternal mansion one ' light night with his father's money-box under his arm. He was then about enteen yeais of age. Pocket-picking was the first branch of his fnture try to which he devoted his talents. He j formed a partnership with ono Gaguis, I and, between them, they were reaping a rich harvest, when one unlucky evening ' Cartouche's comrade was arrested and ! tran8njisted to Marseilles. This j venture led our hero to turn his talents i in another direction, and he took to dice and cards. Hauuting the better hells, i he used the skill acquired among the gypsies to such purpose that suspicions were awakened, and M. Cartouche was j kicked into the street and debarred I ever from that branch of industry. ! dition affirms that his next debut was in the character of a pólice spy. This, ! however, is apocryphal, and probably j arose from the fact that when he appeared, as he soon did, as the organizer of a band of thieves, he exhibited idens ! of discipline and subordination that, with his isnown charaeter, must have been acquired from without. Become at last an Ishmaelite, his hand j against every one, and every one's hand against him, it became his constant care j to impart to the skilled and desperate band which ralliedaround him an organization and discipline approximating as closely as possible to the military ; he appointed lieutenants, sergeants j ries, rallying and pass words, and spared I no detail to insure the perfection of the instrument under his control. This j eompleted, the campaign opened with night skirmishing. Thus some three or I four of the band would pounce upon an j unwary citizen, whom a blow on the head from a loaded bludgeon reduced to temporary silence. When the victim regained sufficient consciousness to give I an alarm, the troop was at a safe distan ce, arranging the next affair. Paris was ! regularly apportioned into districts, one of which was alloted each night to some particular detachment of the band. ïecome aware of the existence of an ! organized system of crime, the city, in alarm, appealed to its natural protector, j M. DArgenson, head of the pólice, but i found little consolation. Pólice there were in abundance, but no controlling power, order, or system. Each worked for himself. They plundered the robber and the robbed alike. Selected ! out reference to theiv antecedents, many ! had served in the galleys, and many more bore the convict's brand on their shoulders. Miserably paid, they were i perpetuülly opposed to the temptation of a bribe, and it was not long before the sheep-dog became almost as dangerons to the flock as the wolf himself. It was in 1720 that tho terror inspired by Cartouche's band reached its climax. They held virtual possession of the i ital, especially by night. Their ! dations were conducted wilh the military order and precisión so much I cated by their great leader. A party ! would assemble before some rich ; sion. Then some huge fellow - very j frequently one Simón Once, a brawny ex-porter - would offer his gigantic ! shoulders as the base of a living j mid, which, formed by the lighter and ■ more agile members of the gang, ly reached the lower windows. Some ; panes were adroitly removed, the j ments entered, and the most attractive objects began to glide down a chain of ready hands till the pillage was I plete. The gang hunted noble game. In September, 1720, they invaded the dence of the Spanish ambassador, and 1 stripped the cbamber of the ambaasadress, seiziug a magnificpnt pearl lace, a brooch with twenty-seven large ! diamonds, a rich table service of gold, and the lady's entire wardrobe. In the I Palais Rryul, then oecupied by the j gent, they stole two of his silver flam'leaux. At the Louvre, Cartouche's 1 iiolher possessed himself of the s word 3 ad mantle of the Prinoe de Soubise, ! y hilo the regent bimself was robbed one ts'ght on leaving the opera. Here, j ver, the laugli was on thn othor side, BS, purpos(]y to deceivo the robbers, he had caused his sword-hilt to be richly chased - in steel. Now that the iuconvenience of such a state of things began to be feit in the J very highest society, Government set j self seriously to the taak of reform. A ! titile incident helped to spur it on. One May morning in 1721 some laborera carne upon the body of a inurdered man. It proyed to be that ói añ obscure poet narn'ed Vergier. What could possess any ono to kill a poet, and so poor a one at that, was a puzzle, till soine one suggested it was the regent's work. Philippe d'Orleans was black enough, in all conscience, but rumor painted liini in still deeper colors. In a series of rhymed philippics he had been branded with every conceivable crime. What more natural, said the public, thau that he should employ Cartouche's band to wreek hisvengeance on the poet who had held him up to ridicule and shame. To be sure, Vergier was not the one who had written the verses in question, but the Oartouchians ! could hardly be assumed to be familiar with snch gentry as starving poets, and i in their zeal to oxecute their master's orders had mistaken the man. Stories such as this oirculating through Paris i caused the ivgent to bestir himSelf, and the authorities ioudly denianded Cartouche ; but, of cb'ursë, it was múch easier ] to ask for him thah to get him. Anötner nmrder nttw octfuiired, to add the Jiublic agitatiöh. Öartouche and ! his band wers carousing at a cabaret, : wlien thev got into an altercation with 3ome woriraen at an adjoining table. A row ensued ; swords and pistols were i fredy nsed The pólice ruslied and i one of thern, Mondelot, feil dead f rom a ! shot ftred, it was declared, by a female Oartouchian named Manon-le-Roy. It is at least certain that this distinguished lady always carried arms, and cqually so that when, some time afterward, she was arrested, she intrenched herself behind her bed and for half an hotir kept the whole posse of pólice at bay. The murderers of Vergier and Mondelot brought the name of Cartouche prominently beforo the public. Henceforward every audacious crime waa laid to his charge. Desperate attempts Were made to j ture the formidable thief; but this dexterity &hd skillíulness in changing his costume stond hlm good fïiehdSi The loose, fitting cloak, blue on one side, red on the other, and capable of being reversed in a moment of time, owns him for godfather. The pólice would be in hot pura uit of a man in red who fled like a deer around a corner. When the pursuers followed on his track he had peared, but tliey eneonntered a sédate individual in blue strolling quietly towai-d them, who had seeu the aforesaid man in red dart into a neighboriug house or disappear down some other street. On one occasion the pólice, hearing a row in the house of a pretty lemonadeseller known as Margot the Nun, made a descent. They found a little man, half drunk, tearing around the room, flring j pistols right and lef t, to the admiration i of a mixed company of both sexes. He was arrested, and after a wiiile represented hiiaself to be an hoiiest chocolate seiler in the itue Oomedie-Fraiicais, who had unfortunately taken a drop too much. He was allowed to go after depositing 100 livtea and a gold iSnuff'box as security for his reappearance. No j complaint was made against him, and in a few days he called at pólice headquarters and reoiaimed his property. It was Cartouche. In December, 1720, he was captured and confined in Fort l'Eveque, but in I spite of the terror inspired by this 1 doubtable robber, so slightwere theprecautions taken for guarding him that he three months later effected his escape. The authorities roused themselves to xnusual efforts for his recapture, and hereupon an odd incident occurred. As the oificer of the criminal oourt waa uttering the usual proclamation with sound of trampet and outcry, calling upon Cartouche to appear within eight days and answer to the charge of muraer, and had come to the words, ' ' In the King's name I we do command the person called ' touche' " - " Present, Cartouche ! " shouted a voice in the center of the crowd, that turned the wüole body, archers, trumpeters, citizens, and all into a frenzy of rage and agitation. It was Cartouche himself, but he had vanished. Two persons now entered into a solemn league and covenant to pursue the impalpable robber without restorrespite till he should be slain or taken; these were Huron and Pepin, bold and clever officers in the service of the pólice. The chase opened ill for ourhero; Huron tracked him so hotly as to exchange pistol-shots with him, by which Cartouche was said to have been seriously wounded. It is certain that, either to escape this peraevering foe or to recover from his alleged hurts, he disappeared for three entire months from criminal history, and the pólice exultingiy assured the public that he was driven from the capital. They were soon made painfully aware of his return. A very large reward was now set on his head, and Huron and Pepin again devoted themselves to their task. The zeal of both these officers proved fatal to them. The former had one evening tracked Cartouche to a notorious robber haunt. Finding themselves likely to be surrounded, the band, like wolves at bay, turned suddenly upon Huron and his followers. The officer received several pistol shots, and was then cut down by Cartouche himself. A few days later the robber chief, while taking a quiet stroll with Madeleine Beaulieu, a woman belonging to the gang, perceived Pepin at his heels. Turning suddenly on their pursuer, Madeleine attacked nim with large stones, while Cartouche ran him through the body. A regular organized attempt was next made, under the direction ot an Aidemajor of the Gardes-Francies (Pekom), who selected ninety of his best men and sent them in various disguises, but well armed, in quest of the single robber chief. At this critica! period of his fortunes occurred what was known as the affair of the Hotel Desmarets. Nicolás Desmarets, nephew of the great Colbert, died on the 6th of May at his hotel in the Rué deis Petits Augustins. This wealthy residence Cartouche resolved should be thoroughly pillaged. A chosen band, commanded by their chief in person, forced an entrance aiid were busily at work in the rich saloons when one of their lookouts annouuced the approach of an absolute army of pólice. The danger signal had hardly been given befcre the enemy appeared. A flerce fight commenced - from room fco roorn, from stair to stair. The robber3 fougkt stoutly, but tlieir amunition i'ailed, and they were ovoi borne by numbers. Sauve qui peut became the order of the day. Cartouche escaped by a chimney, gained the roof, and descended at some distance in the garret of a good-natured mechanic, to whom he represented himself as a man pursued by his mercilesa oreditors. His host sympathized with Mm, provided him with a disguise, and once more he broke through the toils. Tiie regent now doubled the reward and ofTered a í'ree pardon to auy oue, j no matter how guilty, who should betray i his cliief. Distrust now spread through the band, and two murders of suf pected tráitbrs qhíckly follöwed. Ëut the hour of retribütion was at hand. Oue Duchatalet - next to Cartouche the most ferocious of human tigers - ackhowledged to hiinself that the game was nearly up. Plunged, as he was, in the deepest and deadliest crime, he saw but one chance of safety, and that was to denounce his ehief. He made a bargain with Pekom, the Aide-major of the Fracaises, procured a promise of pardon from the regent, and then conducted a picked body of men to the robber's lair. Cartouche was taken so completely by surprise that he was secured almost without a struggle, although he had six loaded pistols ready to his hand. He was conducted to the Chatelet, and the process advanced quickly. Duchatelet, certain of reprieve, eonfeBsed to certain burglaries and murders, in which Cartouche had taken part. Notwithstanding this, the latter stoutly protested his innocence, and denied his identity, cailing himself one Jean Bourguignon, a countryman. Meañwhile lie was well cared for, he received crowds of distinguished visitors, and fashionable ladies attended his levees. The most distinguished of these was the Marechale de Bouffiers, widow of the gallant general who lost the battle j of Malplaquet. One warm summer night in July, 1721, just as the lady had retired to bed, leaving her window a little open for air, f?he drew the curtain aside, and to her horror saw a man 's face close to her own. She made a snatch for the bell cords, but the intruder seized her j hands, opened his blouse, displaying a rich but faded costume, witli a complete i armory of silver-mouuted pistols and knives, and introduced himself as Louis Dominique Cartouche. He had narrowly escaped the watchful eyes of the pólice, then ín hot pürsüit of him, by climbing the balc'ony ; 110 one, he said, woüld dream of looking for him therej and he I propósed to remaiii. He was hungry and tired, ho wever, and wantod supper and a bed. Quaking with fear, the chale rang the bell, ordered her astonished servants to bring a hearty supper and a bottle of champagne, and when it came locked her door and watched the voracious robber as he disposed of all that was set before him. His repast j ended, he apologized for incommoding her, stretched himself out on the sofa in her dretsing-room and went to sleep. ! At 8 a. m. he rose, bade her good-day j and vanished. She pprang out of bed, ölosed the Windows, and alilrmed the j house. Search was made among the, yaluableg, but uot an article was missing; even the costly sil ver used for the supper had been spared by the eccentric thief. Some days later the Marechale received a basket of excellent champagne (stolen from a Parisian wine merchant) With the cotnpliments of M. Cartouche. The robber eilief had been placed in one of those horrible subterranean dun geons destroyed in 1780 by the humane coma? and of Louis XVI. He had a companion in trouble who had formerly worked as a stone masón; together they I succeeded in making a breaca in the j wall of their celi, thence following a j ditch connected with the sewerage of the i prison they broke into the cellar of a neighboring house. Here, however, fortune ceased to befriend them; Cartouche was rearrested while endeavoring to leave the house and placed in closer custody than before. His trial went forward with unexampled rapidity, and on Nov. 26, 1721, Cartouch and four of his companions were ordered to be broken on the wheel, after having been previously submitfced to the question ordinary and extraordi nary, with the view of extorting confession. The proces verbal relating to Öartoueh reports the application of the question in the form of the brodeguins or boots. These wure wooden frames fltted to the legs, into which wedges of increasing size were forcibly driven I til the legs of the sufferer were reduced i to a pulp. On the application of the i flrst, second, and third wedge, answered that he was innocent. At the fourl.h j ancwered that he knew not what they ! were speaking of. At the flf th that he was innocent - was dying. At the sixth that he had done all that was required of him ; had done no wrong ; was dying. At the seventh, was innocent - no aecomplices. At the eight and last, was innocent. Although he thus refused to confess under torture, he became j tive enough when he reached the fold, protesting, however, much to his credit, that he had never robbed a churcli, although often incited to do so by DucLatelet. He absolved his own family with especial earnestness from i any share in his inisdoings. He refrained from denunciations, even of those who had deserted or botrayed him, ! excepting only Duchatelet, toward whom he evinced intense scorn and J hatred. But in revenge he was unsparing in respect to the spies and receivers of the gang, whoin he denounced by the score. He avowed himself the heaa and chief of the numerous band, so long the terror of the capital, au assertion atnply oonfirmed by the confusión and indiscipline, which on his decease becamo suddenly perceptible to the ranks of crime. To the last two questions dressed to him, whether any person of i condition belonged to his band, and whether he had ever accepted bribes to murder, he replied emphatically in the negative. Cartouche's was the iirst of a long series of executions. For several I month the Place de Grève saw some unfortunate wretch hoiiged or broken. His name and memory seemed to engender roDoei's, and it was a long time before the effects of that powerful impulse i which, by carefully organizing it, he had given to crime had passed away.