The judge had scarcely uttered the last words of the sentence, when Frederick's arms were grasped on either side by a stalwart “Garde de Paris,” and he was hurried from the court-room. Instead of being taken back to the “Mazas” House of Detention, where he had been imprisoned until then, he was conveyed to “La Grande Roquette,” which he was to visit some years later under still more dramatic circumstances.
“La Grande Roquette,” besides containing the cells for prisoners under sentence of death, is used as a depot for convicts pending their transfer either to the penitentiaries or to the penal colonies.
On arriving within the gloomy walls of this terrible prison, [Pg 94] from whose portals none step forth excepting to the scaffold or to undergo a long term of disgrace and social death, Frederick was taken to the “Greffe” (register's office). There he surrendered the name of “Wolff,” under which he had been sentenced, and received instead the numeral by which henceforth he was to be designated. From thence he was conducted to the barber-shop, where his beard was removed and his head shaved. The clothes which he had worn until then were now taken away from him, and he was forced to assume the hideous garb of a condemned prisoner.
FREDERICK IN HIS CONVICT DRESS.
A few days later a special train, consisting of eight railway carriages, partitioned off into small and uncomfortable cells, lighted only by ventilators from the roof, steamed out of the Gare d'Orleans on its way to St. Martin de Re. Among the number of blood-stained criminals of every imaginable category which constituted its living freight, was Frederick Count von Waldberg, alias Franz Werner, alias Baron Wolff, but now known only as No. 21,003.
Before proceeding any further, it may be as well to devote a few words to an explanation of the somewhat remarkable fact that nobody at Paris should have recognized the identity of Baron Wolff with the Count von Waldberg, who had resided for some months on the banks of the Seine previous to the fall of the empire. In the first place, as has been already stated, his personal appearance had undergone a most remarkable change during his absence in the East; and, secondly, the siege by the Germans and the subsequent insurrection of the Commune had so thoroughly disorganized the metropolitan police and judicial administrations, whose ranks were now filled by entirely new and inexperienced men that his success in concealing his real rank and station had nothing surprising in it.
On reaching St. Martin de Re, Frederick was manacled to a repulsive-looking prisoner, and was fastened to a long [Pg 95] chain to which some sixty other convicts were attached. Escorted by gendarmes with loaded rifles, they were led down to the sea-shore and embarked on huge flat-bottomed barges or pontoons for conveyance to the ship which lay in the offing, which was to be their place of abode for the three weary months which would elapse before their arrival in New Caledonia.
The Loire was one of the small fleet of old sailing ships which have been fitted up for the transport of convicts to Noumea and to Cayenne, and which are nicknamed “Les Omnibuses du Bagne.” Steam vessels are not used for this purpose, as speed is no object, and the voyage to France's penitential colony in Australasia is effected via the Cape of Good Hope, instead of by the Suez Canal. The lower decks are divided up into a series of large iron cages, in which the convicts are imprisoned by groups of sixty. These cages are separated from each other by narrow passages, along which armed sentinels pace day and night. Once every morning, and once every afternoon, the prisoners are brought up on deck for an hour's airing when the weather is fine; but when storms prevail, they are frequently confined in the stifling atmosphere of the lower decks for whole weeks at a time. In front of every cage, hydrants are fixed, by means of which, in case of any serious disturbance, the inmates can be deluged with powerful jets of cold water, and if that prove ineffectual, then with hot water.
A heavy gale was blowing in the Bay when the Loire spread its sails to the wind and started on its long and dreary voyage.
A fortnight later the vessel cast anchor in the port of Santa Cruz, of the Canary Islands, where a stay of six days was to be made for the purpose of shipping the provisions which were to last until the arrival of the transport at its destination. While there, Frederick and three of his fellow-prisoners, [Pg 96] who had formed part of the gang employed one night to clean the deck from the dirt occasioned by the embarkation of some eighty head of cattle and numerous sheep and poultry, took advantage of the darkness and of the rough weather which prevailed, to slip overboard. The guard-boat happened to be on the other side of the ship, and the fugitives would probably have reached land and effected their escape, had not they suddenly encountered a cutter, which was bringing off several of the ship's officers who had been dining on shore. Unfortunately for the convicts, the moon, which had been hidden until then by the clouds, shone forth for a few minutes and shed its light on the shorn heads of the swimmers. The latter immediately plunged, in order............