Chapter L: Dreyfus (10)

“Since then, gentlemen, we have witnessed the daily growth of the number of men who do not believe it their duty, I do not say before the army, but before certain commanders of the army, to abdicate their liberty of judgment. These think that no institution is above the law. They are convinced that, a right having been violated, Dreyfus having been illegally convicted, he must be tried again, whether he be guilty or not,--a question which we shall discuss presently. They are convinced that, in presence of such circumstances, no one is justified in keeping silence, because it is a concern, not of an individual interest, but of civilization itself. And, if I must tell you, gentlemen, the _raison d’être_ of what is called the syndicate is this. The common purpose of the syndicate, regardless of the belief that one may entertain in the innocence of Dreyfus, at which one arrives only gradually, at which you will have arrived day after tomorrow,--regardless of that, the common object of the syndicate is justice, right, the wounded ideal which we, in our turn, take in our hands, and which, in spite of all furies, is our strength and our protection. Syndicate, yes, but a syndicate of faith, a syndicate of disinterestedness, a syndicate of hope. [A voice--“For money”.] If we had paid you, perhaps you would shout in our favor.”

The Judge.--“M. Labori, do not address the public.”

M. Labori.--“_Monsieur le Président_, I ask your pardon, but I am obliged to be my own policeman. And that astonishes me, gentlemen of the jury, for the people who raise these protests fail in respect for you, a group of judges, you who have had your anxieties, but who feel the grandeur of your mission. But I know that, after a certain time, threats will only strengthen you in your resolution to judge with impartiality. So I resume, leaving those who murmur when I speak of hope and disinterestedness to make such manifestations as they choose.

“Try, then, to explain otherwise what this man is doing here. What is he? I should lower him, and lower myself, and lower you also, in trying to represent him to you. He is not only a creative man of genius; he is, for those who are capable of understanding, for those who penetrate to the heart and substance of his works,--and his act of today is a sure proof of it,--he is a poet, in spite of all violences of form; and, as for his glory, it is not among these blind men that we must seek his measure, but throughout Europe. What had he to gain here? He had to gain a loss of time, a tempest of insults and outrages. Read the newspapers, and you will know what one gains by such an act. What moves him, then, if not the imperative necessity of acting in accordance with his convictions? Admirably conscious of the power of the pen and of the power of thought, he was determined, by a tremendous act, a violent act, if you will, to harmonize his conduct with the inmost conviction of his soul. That is what he wanted to do,--act.

“And action was necessary, gentlemen, on the morrow of the acquittal of Major Esterhazy. On the morrow of that singular prosecution, which ended in a verdict demanded from the tribune by the minister of war, who, proclaiming Dreyfus justly and legally condemned, was unwilling that another should be pronounced the author of the _bordereau_,--on the morrow of this judicial decision which fell like a second stone on the condemned man buried alive on Devil’s Island,--on the morrow of that prosecution, all who had doubted, all who had been anxious, all who had gradually arrived at certainty, all were struck with stupefaction. There had to be some one to feel enough confidence in himself, and enough authority over his fellow-citizens, to dare, in consciousness of his power, which I admire and which was not ill-founded, to proclaim loudly what many felt in secret, and to act. For it was an act, gentlemen,--that letter that burst like a terrible bomb. A revolutionary act, he called it; it was from him that the attorney-general got the word. Revolutionary, yes, in the sphere of thought. Nothing less than a revolution in this sphere was needed to recall men’s minds to common sense and truth. M. Zola has begun the revolution. It has not yet done much harm. You will finish it, gentlemen, finish it peacefully, finish it by the verdict of acquittal which I am going to ask of you, but not without first having a thorough understanding with you as to its value and significance.

“How was it received, this act of M. Emile Zola? Some, a few, saw in it a rallying-cry, and marched as at the sound of the cannon. The demoniacs, struck down by an attack so crushing, and feeling that they had no rivals in the art of insult, falsehood, and calumny, answered by deafening clamor. The majority, of good faith, but indifferent, suddenly aroused from their apathy by an act so unexpected, drew back in astonishment. Their reasoning was twofold, and I must do justice to it. They considered M. Zola’s letter too violent. They mistakenly saw in it insults to the army. Dreyfus, they say, was condemned by his peers. Esterhazy was acquitted by his. Behind all stands the staff. We can never admit that an entire staff is guilty; rather admit that Dreyfus is guilty than accept the conclusion that the others are guilty. That is their argument; they have no other. But it has another branch, which is this: There are men in the cabinet whom we can trust. They know the truth. They do not ask for a revision. Therefore the Dreyfus verdict was well rendered. Therefore Dreyfus is guilty, and was justly condemned. That is their whole case.

“They forget, gentlemen, that things do not present themselves so simply; that questions generally do not take the form of a dilemma; that Dreyfus may be innocent, and yet they who condemn him may not have been knowingly responsible and really guilty of any infamy. They do not remember that their reasoning would apply to all judicial errors, from the conviction of Jesus Christ to that of Pierre Vaux, including that of Jeanne d’Arc herself. They forget that the _raison d’Etat_ can be pleaded in behalf of the worst acts of government, from the massacre of St. Bartholomew to the massacre of the hostages, including the revocation of the Edict of Nantes, the reign of terror, and the legal murder of the duc d’Enghien, also committed by a military tribunal.

“This reasoning, gentlemen, is terrible; it is cruel, false, absurd. But that is not to say that with those who reason thus I am unwilling to discuss. On the contrary, I believe them of good faith, I believe them sincere; that is enough for me. I am convinced that, when they understand the real truth, they will be with us; they will join the great number of those who are coming to us daily, because they are beginning to understand a matter upon which hitherto they have passed in ignorance. And their ignorance we can easily understand, for we see how difficult, not to say how impossible, it is for us to get at even a part of the truth here in this court. So a word at first in answer to their objections. They talk of insults to the army.

“Insults to the army? But, in the first place, what is the army? Does it consist of a few personalities, however high they may be? Is it not the entire nation, with a considerable number of officers, all of whom, whether belonging to the staff or not, are worthy of the stripes that they have won by their courage and their loyalty? And then, at their head, a small number of permanent, experienced commanders, fallible, as all men are,--and I do not insult them in saying so,--but surely worthy of the respect of all, by reason of the lofty mission with which they are invested. How, gentlemen, could Frenchmen be lacking in respect for them, especially such a Frenchman as M. Emile Zola? Is he not one of those who owe most to the French country, just as the French country owes most to them? Is he not one of those who place the highest value on French citizenship? And is he not, therefore, one of those who must have the highest respect for the personification of France in the French army itself?

“But does respect for the army mean that everything is permissible, I do not say to the army, but to a few commanders of the army? Does it mean that they form a caste apart, which, above other citizens, as M. Méline said in the chamber on January 22, 1898, must not be submitted to the jury? I am not inventing, gentlemen of the jury; here are his words, uttered in answer to M. Paschal Grousset:

“‘I understand the significance of your interruption. You say: “You have prosecuted, but you have not prosecuted everything.’” The matter in question, you will understand, was M. Zola’s letter. ‘“You have left out of the prosecution a part of the author’s charges.” Well, yes, we did not think it our duty to submit the honor of the commanders of the army to the decision of the jury.’

“And why? Is there in this country any citizen, whosoever he may be, who is indispensable to the public welfare? No. There is not even a necessary soldier. And, if, in execution of its threat, the staff were to resign on the day after your verdict of acquittal, I am convinced that in this admirable army hands would not be lacking to take up the baton of command, and assure us the same safety from foreign attack. So no vain threats. There are no necessary individuals in this country, no men who escape the jurisdiction of the jury; and M. Méline, though he is a prudent man,--M. Méline, who has the reputation of being a moderate,--launched a bold word, which perhaps betrayed the deplorable state of his mind, when he said: ‘We will not submit the honor of the commanders of the army to a jury.’ No one here wishes to wound anyone whomsoever. There is nothing in my words that can be offensive to loyalty. And, as for you, gentlemen, I can only repeat the admirable expression of M. Jaurès, much more exact than that of General de Boisdeffre when he said: ‘You are France.’ You are not France, but you are the legal conscience of France. M. Jaurès was right in saying so. It is an admirable phrase, because it expresses an admirable idea, and consequently everybody and all institutions in this country must be respectfully submissive to you. Was I wrong, then, in saying that one may respect the army without being obliged to abdicate his judgment before certain army commanders? In our day, under the _régime_ which still is, and which may remain, a _régime_ of liberty, no free mind can admit that.

“And do you know why it must not be admitted, especially in this country, and at this hour when democracy has made its way? Because, if a military supremacy were to arise under these conditions, it would be the most oppressive of all, more oppressive than the _régime_ of the Turks or the Tartars, for in those countries, or rather among those peoples, where an absolute military power reigns, there is a responsibility,--the responsibility of the chief to his people, to history, to his dynasty, to God sometimes (in the countries of divine right), while in a country like ours, where there is no sole and personal responsibility, military dictatorship, which would be the dictatorship, not of a man, but of a bureau or a staff, would very quickly degenerate into an anonymous oligarchy, without counterpoise, without responsibility, a hundred times more cruel than any oppression ever known. And, finishing, I say, gentlemen, that there is in France, and that tomorrow there still will be in France, something more powerful, something more respectable, than the army itself,--the law.

“Did M. Zola ever intend to say anything else? Has he insulted the army? Permit me to remind you of a passage in his letter, which cannot be reread too often.

They talk to us of the honor of the army. They want us to love it, to respect it. Ah! certainly, yes, the army which would rise at the first threat, which would defend French soil; that army is the whole people, and we have for it nothing but tenderness and respect. But it is not a question of that army, whose dignity is our special desire in our need of justice. It is the sword that is in question, the master that they may give us tomorrow. And piously kiss the sword-hilt, the god? No.

“Well, the sword is the exact symbol of that political state which I have just tried to picture to you, and I have met from the audience in this court-room, which is not, you will admit, made up by me, only manifestations of sympathy at the expression of these ideas.

“So much for the matter of insults to the army. Now for the second point. They have said to M. Zola: ‘Your letter is violent. It exceeds its purpose. To justify such language, what proofs do you offer?’

“Before answering, gentlemen, we must understand each other. As I have already said, M. Zola’s letter is an act, a resounding act, a brilliant act; but it was committed deliberately. From what everybody has known, from what everybody has seen and from what they have not seen, and also from what he knows and has been able to tell you, as well as from what he knows but has been prevented by his patriotism from telling you, he has come to a conclusion which forced itself upon his mind. And what is this conclusion? Does it fill him with a feeling of anger towards certain army commanders? No, gentlemen. That he leaves to the friends, to the actual supporters, I do not say of the army, for they insult the army, but of the staff. Listen to what ‘L’Intransigeant’ said on March 3, 1897. I quote from a letter attributed to a superior officer in active service, to ‘a person well informed,’ as they say of people to whom they wish to attribute certain infamies, to give them credit and authority. This article says:

It is monstrous to see the chief command of the army in the hands of a septuagenarian....

“The reference here is to General Saussier, and it reminds one of the opinions of Major Esterhazy.

A septuagenarian who, in peace as in war, was long ago judged at his true value,--nothing. As for Boisdeffre, stupidly tainted with a nobility which has not even the merit of being serious, he is, as you say so precisely, a loafer, an ignoramus, full of assurance, so _rossard_ that he has never had the courage to learn a word of German, wherefore the chief of staff of the army, in order to read the slightest note in this language, is obliged to summon an interpreter. How the Prussians must laugh at us! Moreover, thanks to these commanders,--like masters, like subordinates,--this staff is so singular that the superior officer at the head of the famous S. R. [_Service de Renseignements_, Service of Information]--the reference here must be to Colonel Henry--knows not a word of any foreign language. As for the generalissimo, Saussier, he was a brave captain in the old African army, who afterwards became a general and a detestable tactician, today completely foundered. From these chief commanders we may not judge of all the others,--for fortunately there are some good ones,--but we may judge of the new and terrible wasps’ nest in which we should find ourselves, in case of a _coup de torchon_.

“If you continue, you will find the same language and the same expressions. Here is an unsigned article that appeared in ‘L’Intransigeant’ October 3, 1897.

Military justice, as lame as the other justice, but blinder and more crying. These crying injustices are revolting, and create revolt in the minds of the soldiers,--moreover, a legitimate revolt.

“And, on July 14, 1896, we find this, over the signature of M. Rochefort:

One embraces the military profession only in the hope of killing men, and, when one is not strong enough to kill those of the others, one exterminates his own. The grand belief of the idiots who have succeeded one another in the war department is that, if we were beaten in 1870, it is because our troops were insufficiently disciplined.

“And in the same newspaper, on September 7, 1897, I find this:

Passive obedience, ferocious egoism and brutality, those are the great principles that they try to beat into the hearts and brains of the soldiers. If the army were really a great family; if it were the school of honor, dignity, and duty; if it were the democratic institution which befits the French people,--it would be invincible, and there would be no deserters from it. But the truth is that they try to make mercenaries of our soldiers, and that the proudest, the most enlightened, the most ardent, the best among them, are those who feel the most imperative need of avoiding so odious a _rôle_.

“And there is one more passage that I wish to read, also by M. Rochefort, which appeared on Friday, April 12, 1894.

The people regret to see that this famous military spirit succeeds in a very short time in reducing the finest minds to a state of atrophy. Recent verdicts rendered by councils of war show that there is a real national danger in leaving longer to judges so ill prepared for judicial functions the right of life and death over accused persons whose guilt they are not capable of passing upon.

“And, if, gentlemen, we open ‘La Libre Parole’ of November 5, 1894, we find this from the pen of M. Drumont:

Look at that ministry of war which ought to be the sanctuary of patriotism, and which is a place of perpetual scandal, a cloaca that cannot be compared to the Augean stables, for as yet no Hercules has tried to clean it. In such an establishment honor and truth ought to be embalmed, but, in reality, there is always something there that stinks.

“And, finally, gentlemen, I read to you a letter that appears in ‘L’Autorité’ of this morning under the title ‘Billot.’

PARIS, FEBRUARY 20, 1898.

_Monsieur le Directeur_:

You must be distressed by all the basenesses of the present hour. But once more let your voice be heard in the name of this poor France, who defends her last honor in the hands of those who betray her. A certain man is at this moment the target of public contempt. This man is the minister of war, a sinister figure, whose personality appears at the saddest hours in our history. If the Méline cabinet associates its cause with that of the minister of war, it is irrevocably lost in the esteem of the country and the army. Not a single one of the 27,000 officers would dare to defend the minister of war. You cannot imagine the contempt that his lies and empty declarations have engendered. How guilty, then, is this government that seeks out such men, knowing what they were and what they are. Every step of this man is marked by an injustice. Regular promotion no longer exists. Of the rights consecrated by the committees of classification he takes no heed. The promotion lists are modified in the office of the minister, who inserts or erases as he sees fit.

“Well, gentlemen, these are the supporters of the army. These are the patriots. I point them out to you.

“Did Emile Zola ever use such language? Undoubtedly he has spoken strongly, and, if, instead of being here in this echoing trial, we were in some parlor or some office, we might ask him perhaps to soften some corners of his letter. But he wanted it to go far; he wanted it to be heard. It has been heard, as he wished; and he was right. But at bottom what was his thought? He had arrived at the conclusion that a judicial error had been committed; that this judicial error was not criminal in its origin, but grew out of the credulity of a few: that it was confirmed by the malice and the blindness of a few others, as well as by the solidarity of brothers in arms; and that it was finally sealed by a violation of law. Well, gentlemen, this being the case, it was necessary, in the first place, to fix the limits of our proofs. Even in the strangulation to which we have been subjected, we have been treated with some regard, made necessary, I fancy, by the processes of justice, for here, it seems, outside of the Zola case, there are two other cases,--the Dreyfus case and the Esterhazy case. Of the Esterhazy case we may say everything. Of the Dreyfus case we may say nothing. Why this distinction? Is it based on the thing judged? Ah! I confess, gentlemen, that, when I first asked myself the explanation of this singular restriction upon a trial which M. Zola wished to be so open, I said to myself: ‘It is very simple; we shall be permitted to say nothing. In fact, there are decrees which prohibit all attack on the thing judged, even by demonstrating that the judges are liars. So, as we have to deal here with two things judged, the Dreyfus case and the Esterhazy case, they will strangle us in silence.’ Well, they have not done it. I know not why, because, in truth, in the path upon which they have entered they had the means. But they did not dare to use them, and in this affair, as in so many others in this country, they took half-measures, partial closed doors, partial explanations, partial thing judged.

“True, gentlemen, it would not have been easy to entirely close my mouth. I should have risen just the same after the shorter trial, and made my argument, simply telling you what others have told you. If I had not been contradicted, it would have been necessary to extend the scope of the debate.

“Now, gentlemen, I want to sum up for you chronologically the facts in this case, to sum them up in spite of all the obstacles that have been placed in my path. And it is the object of my argument to try to show, by reasoning and by induction, in all cases where the light has not been complete, the necessary answers to the questions that I have been forbidden to ask,--answers that result inevitably from the study, or, to be more exact, from the silence, of our adversaries.”

At this point the court interrupted M. Labori, declaring an adjournment until the following day.

FOURTEENTH DAY--FEBRUARY 22.

Resuming his argument at the point at which he had dropped it the day before, M. Labori continued as follows:

“Let us go back to the autumn of 1894. Dreyfus, who was then Captain Dreyfus, was arrested on October 14, 1894, but neither the public or his family, Mme. Dreyfus excepted, knew of his arrest. On October 29 the news leaked out in a rather indefinite way, through ‘La Libre Parole,’ and on November 1 a more exact account was given in ‘L’Eclair.’ I beg you, gentlemen, to note that the two newspapers which alone were well informed at the beginning of this case are the two newspapers that have carried on the most violent and most unjust campaign in the years that have since elapsed. ‘L’Eclair’ having given a more precise account, ‘La Libre Parole’ of November 1 published a very short article, of which I shall read to you but an extract.

“Is it true that recently a very important arrest has been made by order of the military authority? Is the individual arrested accused of spying? If the news is true, why does the military authority maintain a silence so absolute? A reply is necessary.” Such was the question that we asked on Monday, and the minister of war has carefully refrained from replying. We had been notified of the arrest on Sunday, ...

“At once we may ask by whom ‘La Libre Parole’ had been notified. I questioned General Mercier to find out to whom this indiscretion should be attributed, and whether any inquiry was made. He answered that he knew nothing about it, hinting that he attributed it to the Dreyfus family That theory cannot be accepted. The Dreyfus family knew nothing about the matter. Major du Paty de Clam, employing threats toward Mme. Dreyfus, had forbidden her to speak; and, supposing that she had spoken, you can well imagine that she would not have carried her secrets to ‘La Libre Parole.’ Consequently, here at the beginning we find the hand of some one who is in relations both with the newspapers of which I speak and with the war offices. Who is he? Is he a superior officer or a subordinate? I do not know, but the relation is indisputable.

We had been notified of the arrest on Sunday, but, in view of the gravity of the charge, and the name and position of the guilty party, we desired to await the result of the examination. Today these reasons do not hold. Here, in fact, is what our _confrère_, “L’Eclair.” says concerning our questions: “Several newspapers have published a note of a few lines, asking if there had been an important arrest for a crime of high treason. The arrest has been kept secret. The facts, unhappily, are exact, and much more serious than the question led us to believe. An officer, not however, a superior officer, is at this moment in prison at Cherche-Midi; he has committed the most abominable crime that an officer can commit. He has betrayed his country, and for venal motives. The examination, which was conducted in secret, is finished, and the proof materially established.”

“This is an inaccuracy, perhaps a falsehood. Certainly it was the starting-point of all the stories, each more false than the other, which from that moment began to fill the columns of the newspapers, finding no contradiction and spreading error through the public opinion of the entire country. If I did not wish to save your time, gentlemen, I could read you extracts from a thousand newspapers of all parties, affirming most energetically that Dreyfus had relations with German and Italian spies which had been materially proved; that he had made suspicious journeys to Belgium or Alsace, in the course of which he was detected in the act of spying; that he broke open a vault in the war department, and took therefrom secrets of the most vital interest to the national defence; that he delivered important documents to the enemy; and that he had numerous civil accomplices.

“It must be said that the mystery which surrounded the arrest of Captain Dreyfus opened the way for all these lies, which served as a foundation for public opinion. On October 13 Dreyfus was summoned to the war department, and there invited to appear, in civil dress, on October 15. You understand why. He was to be arrested. The arrest had already been decided upon, and it was not desirable that he should be taken in uniform to Cherche-Midi between policemen. That would have aroused public opinion, and the policy of mystery had already been resolved upon.

“On the morning of October 15 Dreyfus appeared at the war department. There he was arrested by Major du Paty de Clam, after an examination which I shall refer to again hereafter. Then a search was made. Absolute silence was imposed upon Mme. Dreyfus by reference to the Iron Mask and assertions that her husband’s life depended upon it. This silence was maintained for a fortnight. Meanwhile what was happening at the prison of Cherche-Midi? I had hoped that a man who could speak to you with authority upon this point would testify here under oath; I mean Major Forzinetti. He was not allowed to testify, but, thank God! he has published in ‘Le Figaro’ over his own signature a story with which undoubtedly you are not familiar, but with which you must be made familiar, for it is nothing else than his deposition. I am going to read it to you. I am sure that he is now in this court-room. If it does not represent his thought at every point, if it is not what he would have declared under oath, he will contradict me. Here is his story:

On October 14. 1894, I received a secret enclosure from the minister of war. It made known to me that on the next day, the 15th, at 7 o’clock in the morning, a superior officer would make his appearance at the prison to convey to me a confidential communication. On the morning of the 15th....

“Note this, gentlemen. You will see the value of it in my subsequent discussion. We are at the morning of the 15th. Though Captain Dreyfus, who was notified on the 13th to appear on the 15th, had not yet been examined, and was as yet only an object of suspicion, already they were preparing for him a prison-cell.

On the morning of the 15th Lieutenant-Colonel d’Aboville appeared in uniform, and handed me a document bearing date of the 14th, which informed me that Captain Dreyfus, of the 14th regiment of artillery, and licentiate at the staff, would be entered in the jail-book in the morning as accused of the crime of high treason, and that I would be held personally responsible for his person. Colonel d’Aboville asked me to give my word of honor that I would execute literally the orders from the department that he was about to communicate to me in writing and verbally. One of these communications ordered me to keep the prisoner in the most absolute secrecy, and to see that he had neither knife, or paper, or pen, or ink, or pencil. He was also to be treated like ordinary prisoners: but this order was cancelled, when I pointed out that it was irregular. The colonel ordered me to take such precautions as I might deem necessary to prevent the incarceration from becoming known, either in the prison or out of it. He asked me to show him the rooms set apart for officers, and designated that which Captain Dreyfus was to occupy. He cautioned me against the probable steps that the “high Jewry” would take as soon as it should become aware of the incarceration. I informed nobody, and no such step was taken in my neighborhood. I add that, throughout the prisoner’s detention, I never remained a moment in his room except in the company of the principal police agent, who alone had the key.

Toward noon Captain Dreyfus, in civil dress, arrived in a cab, accompanied by Major Henry and a police agent. This superior officer handed me the order for the entry of his name on the jail-book--an order signed by the minister of war himself, and bearing date of the 14th, which proves that the arrest was ordered before the captain had been questioned. This shows also that the imprisonment was effected without the knowledge of the military governor of Paris, who was notified of it by a superior officer of the staff sent for the purpose, I having been forbidden to notify him myself. The principal police agent of the prison (to whom I had given instructions), after having caused the name of Dreyfus to be inscribed on the register without anything to indicate who he was, escorted the captain to the room designated for him. From that time he was buried there alive. No one was allowed to see him, and his door was never opened except in my presence. A few moments after he had been placed in his room I went to see him. He was in a state of tremendous excitement. He seemed a veritable madman, with bloodshot eyes. He had upset everything in his room. I succeeded in quieting him, but not without difficulty. I had an intuition that this officer was innocent. He begged me to give him writing materials, or to write myself to the minister of war, asking a hearing for him. He told me the phases of his arrest, which were neither dignified or military.

Between the 18th and 24th of October Major du Paty de Clam came to question him, equipped with a special permit from the minister of war. Before seeing Dreyfus, he asked me if he could not enter his cell noiselessly, carrying a lamp of sufficient power to enable him to throw a flood of light upon the captain’s face, whom he wished to surprise in such a way as to throw him off his guard. I answered that it was not possible. He submitted him to two examinations, and each time dictated to him parts of phrases from the incriminating document, with a view of establishing a comparison of handwritings.

“I beg you to remember these facts, which are the less disputable since the file contains an official letter written at that time by Major Forzinetti, in which he tells his superiors of the terrible agitation of the prisoner,--an agitation bordering on mental alienation.

During this time Captain Dreyfus’s excitement continued to be very great. From the corridor one could hear him groaning and crying, speaking in a loud voice, and protesting his innocence. He threw himself against the furniture and against the walls, and seemed unconscious of the injuries that he was inflicting upon himself. He had not a moment’s rest, and, when, exhausted by suffering and fatigue, he threw himself upon the bed in his clothing, his sleep was haunted by horrible nightmares. He gave such starts that he sometimes fell out of bed. During these nine days of real agony he took nothing but _bouillon_ and sweetened wine, refusing all other nourishment.

On the morning of the 24th his mental condition, bordering on madness, seemed to me so serious that, anxious to cover my responsibility, I informed the minister of it, as well as the governor of Paris. In the afternoon, in answer to a summons, I went to General de Boisdeffre, whom I followed to the minister of war. The general having asked my opinion, I answered without hesitation: “They are on a wrong track. This officer is not guilty.” Such was my conviction, and it has been only strengthened since. Entering the minister’s office alone, the general came out again a few moments later, apparently very much annoyed, to say to me; “The minister is just starting for his niece’s wedding, and gives me _carte blanche_. Try to manage Dreyfus for me until his return. Then he will see to the matter.” I was led to think that General de Boisdeffre had not been aware of the arrest, or did not approve it. He ordered me to have the captain secretly visited by the prison physician, who prescribed quieting potions and continual watch.

Starting from the 27th, Major du Paty de Clam came almost daily to submit him to new examinations and comparisons of handwriting, the sole purpose of which was to obtain a confession, which Dreyfus never would make. Up to the day when this unfortunate was handed over to the reporter of the council of war, he knew nothing more than that he was accused of the crime of high treason. The examination was long and detailed, and, while it was in progress, Dreyfus had so little expectation that he would be put on trial, and still less that he would be convicted, that he said several times: “What compensation shall I ask? I will apply for the cross, and give my resignation. I told Major du Paty that I would do so, and he has embodied the statement in his report to the minister. He could find no proof against me,--for there was none,--any more than could the reporter-magistrate, who confines himself to inferences and suppositions, without making any precise assertions.”

A few moments before appearing before his judges, he said: “I hope that my martyrdom is nearing its end, and that I shall soon be in the arms of my family.” Unfortunately it was to be otherwise. After the verdict, Dreyfus was taken back to his room, where I awaited him. At sight of me he cried out, sobbing: “My only crime is that I was born a Jew. To this point has my life of labor led me. Why did I enter the war school? Why did I not hand in my resignation, as my family so desired me to do?” Such was his despair that, fearing a fatal ending, I had to redouble my vigilance. The next day his counsel came to see him. M. Demange, entering his room, approached him with open arms, and, in tears, said to him, as he pressed him to his breast: “My child, your condemnation is the greatest infamy of the century.” I was completely upset.

From that day Dreyfus, who all this time had been without news from his family,--for so far he had not been allowed to write to them,--was authorized to correspond with them under the eye of the commissioner of the government, to whom all letters sent or received were delivered. I witnessed the only two authorized interviews that he had with his wife and his mother-in-law. They were very touching.

As soon as the appeal was taken, Major du Paty came again, with a special permit from the minister for free communication with Dreyfus. After making inquiries concerning the state of mind of the condemned man, he went to him, telling the principal agent to remain within call in case of need. In this last interview, as appears from a letter written immediately by Dreyfus to the minister of war, Major du Paty endeavored to obtain a confession of guilt, or, at least, a confession of an impudent act of bribery. Dreyfus answered that he had never bribed anyone,--that he was innocent.

On January 4, 1895, I was relieved of my heavy responsibility. After shaking hands with Captain Dreyfus, I gave him over to the _gendarmes_, who took him, handcuffed, to the military school, where, proclaiming his innocence, he underwent his degradation,--a torture more terrible than death,--and was then sent into exile. My mission was an extremely sad and painful one, having lived on terms of intimacy with this unfortunate for three months, my formal orders being to be present at all his meals and watch him narrowly, in order that no written communication from without might reach him, hidden in his food. During all the long years that, by a choice which has honored me, I have been at the head of various penitentiary establishments, I have had much experience with prisoners, and I do not fear to declare openly that a terrible error has been committed. I have never considered Captain Dreyfus as a traitor to his country, to his uniform. My immediate superiors knew my opinion from the first. I declared it in presence of high official and political personages, as well as before numerous officers of all grades, journalists, and men of letters. Moreover, the government knew my opinion, for, on the eve of the degradation, the head of a bureau in the interior department came to me, sent by his chief, M. Dupuy, to ask me for information concerning Dreyfus. I answered to the same effect. This official must have repeated it to his superiors. Now, I declare that up to November 5 last I had never received from any of my superiors any order or hint to keep silent, and that I have steadily proclaimed the innocence of Dreyfus, who is the victim either of one of those fatalities which are inexplicable and impenetrable, or else of an unfathomable conspiracy, deliberately concocted.

“What I desired to make known to you, gentlemen, was not only the personal impression of Major Forzinetti,--who, since this campaign entered upon its acute stage, has been relieved of his position, but who, until then, had held it, though his superiors knew his opinion,--but also the singular, bizarre, and mysterious processes to which they resorted during this examination.

“A secret examination, a romantic examination, followed by closed doors, closed doors declared under circumstances which I am going to point out to you by showing you how M. Demange was interrupted during the public hearing, doors closed in spite of the protests of the press, which was of one voice in demanding publicity. Picture to yourselves now the falsehoods that the press circulated, the mystery that hovered over the affair, the semi-revelations that, from one direction and another, reveal this prison in the Rue de Cherche-Midi as one of those fantastic prisons in which go on I know not what frightful and mysterious things. People necessarily came to the conclusion that Dreyfus had been caught in direct relations with an ambassador, or with an ambassador’s secretary, or a military _attaché_. This was the starting-point of the convictions against which now all argument is powerless, because, from the first, thanks to all these lies, there has been effected in many sincere minds one of those crystallizations which have the character of permanency. To justify so much mystery two things were necessary: first, absolute respect for the law; second, a complete knowledge of the case by all who played a part in it,--examining magistrates, minister’s counsel, prisoner, and judges. I spoke to you yesterday of the arguments of those honest people who say: ‘We cannot believe that the judges wilfully erred.’ Upon what does this argument rest? Upon the conviction that the judges rendered their verdict in perfect conformity to the law, and in full knowledge of the cause. Is not this the basis today of the sentiments of those who talk to us of the thing judged? Would the simple argument that Captain Dreyfus is a Jew be accepted by anyone? I do not believe it. Yesterday I spoke severely of anti-Semitism, because I consider it a doctrine which one should have the courage to combat. Yet I do not offer a single one of the anti-Semites the insult of believing that they would accept the argument: ‘Captain Dreyfus is a Jew; therefore his conviction was justified, whether he was innocent or guilty.’ Then I am right in saying that that which constitutes the strength of my honest adversaries is the double idea that everything took place in accordance with law, and that everybody concerned was in full possession of the facts. Well, gentlemen, nothing of all this is true. The basis of these honest convictions has no real existence. Saying nothing at present of the violation of law, the gravity of the facts was not established, their materiality was not proved. Pressing visits of Dreyfus to Belgium or Germany,--none. Relations with an ambassador, or with an ambassador’s secretary, or even with a military _attaché_, directly proven,--none. For the present, I am obliged to confine myself to this. We shall come to the rest later. But I must add that, if there was in the department a photograph of a document that represented a letter exchanged between two military _attachés_ of the Triple Alliance,--a letter which they tried later to use as a document in the Dreyfus trial,--this photograph was in the war department eight months before the arrest of Dreyfus, eight months before they thought of him. It does not apply to Dreyfus, as I shall show you presently. Relations of Dreyfus with the enemy, civil accomplices? Nothing of the sort; and I speak here according to the indictment, on the strength of the d’Ormescheville report, to which alone they have a right to appeal. There is a single document, the _bordereau_, whose origin is not declared, but is said by General Gonse to tell against the accused, though they refuse to put him in a position to contradict it. This writing and the expert opinions upon it,--opinions which I shall discuss, but which for the moment I refer to only as contradictory,--these comprise the entire evidence communicated to the defence. Outside of these, the government knows nothing. One man alone, General Mercier, who may be a brave soldier, but who surely knows more of military tactics than of great cases like this, took everything upon himself. For the absent documents he substituted his impression, his arbitrary impression, the result of a naive confidence, of an incredible credulity, in the puerile processes of the examination, processes which are nothing but the fruit of the imagination--honest, I admit, but really childish--of his subordinates. In using the word childish, do I go too far, gentlemen? What, then, is to be thought of that dictation from the _bordereau_ which was made to Captain Dreyfus at the moment of his arrest?”

Here M. Labori read the passage from the d’Ormescheville indictment, describing the dictation from the _bordereau_ to Dreyfus by M. du Paty de Clam, who notes the agitation of the accused. Then he continued:

“I have a right to say that these are puerile methods of judicial examination.

“There is the accusation! So far, there is no question of the secret document. Now for the proof of my statement that General Mercier substituted his arbitrary impression for absent documents. Does he speak of other documents to the cabinet? Were any other charges made known to M. Guérin or to M. Dupuy, who was then a cabinet minister? No. They had nothing but the minister’s word to determine them to follow him in the path leading to the dishonor and civil death of an officer. Listen to an interview with M. Guérin, the authenticity of which will not be disputed,--an interview reported by M. Marcel Hutin in ‘Le Gaulois.’ In presence of the jury the cabinet ministers shelter themselves behind professional secrecy. Not so in the press, and it is so much the better. Hear, then, what they said before this trial. M. Guérin, says the author of the article, explained that M. Charles Dupuy and himself were the only cabinet ministers whom General Mercier made familiar with the case. Says the former keeper of the seals:

Let me tell you how the Dreyfus case was brought to my knowledge in 1894. There were three of us in the cabinet who were informed of the examination at the beginning. After a cabinet meeting held in the office of the minister of war, General Mercier, the minister of war, asked me to go to the office of the president of the cabinet. The three being assembled in M. Dupuy’s office, General Mercier told us that very important documents concerning the national defence had been communicated by a staff officer to a foreign power, and he gave the name of the suspected officer, Captain Dreyfus. The belief of the minister of war was based, in the first place, on the nature of the documents concerned, of which only Captain Dreyfus could have had knowledge. They were locked up in the fourth bureau, said our colleague, with which Captain Dreyfus was connected, and he alone could have communicated them.

“On this first point, gentlemen, let us try to connect all the complex incidents of this trial with each of the points that I argue. You remember the reply made by Colonel Picquart, and also by General Gonse and General de Pellieux, to the questions that I put to them. Now let us continue.

Furthermore, the general told me that he had had experts examine the letter which accompanied these documents, and that they had given an opinion that it was in the writing of Captain Dreyfus. Finally, our colleague told us about the dictation from the famous _bordereau_. When General Mercier had told this story, which, you can imagine, made a great impression upon us, he turned to me, and said: “I desired, my dear colleague, to relate these facts in your presence, in order to ask your advice. I do not wish to rest my opinion solely on the proofs that have been gathered. I want you to name a counter-expert, so that complete light may be shed on the authenticity of this important document.” I made haste to send for M. Baudoin, president of the civil court of the Seine, who suggested M. Bertillon.

“You see, gentlemen, whether I was right in saying, after M. Bertillon’s testimony: ‘The accusation, there you have it!’ For, indeed, it is M. Bertillon who determines the prosecution, because it is to him that they apply for a final expert opinion.

The minister of war told us that it was through one of his agents that this document, found in a waste-basket, had been communicated to him. The cabinet was not informed of the phases of the matter, until after the arrest of the guilty man.

“Were you aware, _Monsieur le Ministre_, of another document incriminating Dreyfus, outside of the _bordereau_?”

No, never were any secret documents mentioned to us. I can say to you that none of my colleagues were informed of the communication of secret documents to the council of war without the knowledge of the accused and his counsel. Some time ago I endeavored to recall exactly, in the presence of my friend and former colleague, Poincaré, everything that then took place. I asked him if his recollections agreed with mine, and I found myself entirely corroborated. A single thing strikes me. Why has there been no frank denial of the secret communication of documents, which, indeed, would have constituted closed doors within closed doors?

“And what does M. Dupuy, the president of the cabinet, say to ‘Le Gaulois’? This:

Never did I know of any document incriminating the condemned man, except the _bordereau_, and I believe that my colleagues in the cabinet are in the same position as myself. If any secret documents were communicated to the council of war, I say frankly that I can only regret it as absolutely contrary to the law and to the rights of defence.

“What I wish you now to notice, gentlemen, is that, at the time when the arrest of Dreyfus was about to be determined upon, there was no secret document, no charge except the _bordereau_ and the dictation scene; and that even of these not the entire cabinet, but only M. Dupuy and M. Guérin, had been informed by the minister of war, proving, as I have just said, that General Mercier took everything upon himself.

“I know very well that, since, there has been mention of a secret document. I know very well that a ridiculous document has been produced,--ridiculous by the confession of those who for a long time pretended to make use of it, since today they find it so inadequate that they thrust uselessly into this trial still later documents, which they describe as absolute proofs. We shall see what they are worth. But this ridiculous document is that of which they have a photograph, and which contains the words: ‘That scoundrel D----.’ It is a letter addressed by one military _attaché_ to another, which was photographed _en route_, and has this postscript: ‘That scoundrel D---- is becoming too exacting.’ Let it not be said that this document has no value. Let it not be said that, if it is not a proof, there are others. It is the document upon which, from the point of view of pretended guilt, they have lived for years. We have seen it everywhere, pointed out as of the highest importance,--in the office of Colonel Picquart shown to M. Leblois, in the pages of ‘L’Eclair.’ Oh! if it were only an article from ‘L’Eclair,’ one might say: ‘It is a newspaper invention.’ But Major Ravary has referred to this document in his public report. It is the document that was in the possession of that ideal veiled lady. It is ‘the liberating document.’ It is the document for which the minister of war gave Major Esterhazy a receipt. Major Esterhazy returned this document to the minister under cover of the staff, and therefore it must have the value that I attribute to it. It is the important document. Oh! I know very well that they have invented others since. When the document was invented, there was mention of others. They do not lie, these officers, but they equivocate, consciously or not; in telling only a part of the truth, in not telling the whole truth, they equivocate. There are other documents in the secret file, yes, but they have no importance, because they relate as much to one as to another. M. Picquart has told us that in the secret file there is a document which applies rather to Esterhazy than to Dreyfus. What does that mean? Simply that there are documents concerning spying, which have been placed in the file because they belong there, but which are no more applicable to Dreyfus than to anybody else. And the proof that all these other documents are especially inapplicable is that, when this one no longer seemed sufficient after having been submitted to discussion, they produced another; and we have heard the declaration of General de Pellieux, which was the culminating-point of this trial, and which was intended to change its course, but which, when we have shown its real significance, will be seen to be only an ephemeral incident.