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....
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.
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 butbouillonand 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, andgives mecarte 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 thegendarmes, 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.
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 butbouillonand 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, andgives mecarte 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 thegendarmes, 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 militaryattaché. 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 perfectconformity 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 militaryattaché, 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 militaryattachésof 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, thebordereau, 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 absentdocuments 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 thebordereauwhich 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 thebordereauto 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.
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 allthe 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 famousbordereau. 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.
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 famousbordereau. 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 thebordereau?”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?
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 thebordereau?”
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 thebordereau, 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.
Never did I know of any document incriminating the condemned man, except thebordereau, 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 thebordereauand 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 militaryattachéto another, which was photographeden 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 beensubmitted 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.
“Only it was not until after the prosecution, gentlemen, that importance was attributed to this document. With General Mercier himself it seems to have been only an artifice, as is proved by the fact that he, who had no right to distrust his colleagues, said nothing about it to them when he was preparing the case.
“And then, in itself, from the judicial standpoint, what can such a document amount to? D——, what does that mean? Really, gentlemen, since this document was in the war department eight months before the prosecution of Dreyfus, and no one had dreamed of applying it to him, must not one have been really hypnotized over the name, or else weak-minded, to see nothing but Dreyfus in this initial? And then, why was no importance attached to it at the beginning? Though the name Dreyfus had been in this document, it might have been the work of a forger. You know that there have been forgeries in this case. When Major Esterhazy talks of forgery, he is not disputed. His statement is accepted becausehemakes it. But there may be other forgeries, emanating from other hands and applying to other persons. And, even though this document were authentic, and however overwhelming it might be in its significance, it could have no value whatever until it had been discussedproandcon,—until it had been shown to the accused and his counsel, who perhaps could overturn it with a word.
“Again, is it permissible to disdain the official declarations of certain foreign governments regarding relations with Captain Dreyfus? [Murmurs of protest.] I expected these murmurs, and I answer that, if we had wished, we could have called foreigners to this bar; if they are not here, it is because we did not wish to call them.”
The Judge.—“I hasten to say that we would not have listened to them.”
M. Labori.—“Very likely,Monsieur le Président. That would have been another question of law, to be discussed after the others. But it is certain that we considered that in such an affair the light should be produced between Frenchmen, because it is important that the foreigner should be onthe side of neither party, in order that tomorrow, if the threatened war should become a reality, we might all join hands to face the foe, of whom we ask nothing. But, so much said, is it permissible, as an honest adversary of the foreigner, to neglect declarations as official as those made in the committee of the reichstag and at the Italian tribune?”
The Judge.—“No, pass on.”
M. Labori.—“I pass on,Monsieur le Président. But I do not think there is anything in my words that can be attacked by anybody.”
The Judge.—“Pass on, pass on.”
M. Labori.—“Continuing on this point, I say that the foreigner has no sort of reason to defend traitors. It is contrary to diplomatic usage. Of course a country does not betray its spies; but it has no reason to defend them when they are caught. Consequently it must be admitted that declarations such as those which I have referred to, if not decisive, must at least be attentively considered, and weighed in the balance. And for that reason I say to you that nothing at all is left of the document referring to ‘That scoundrel D——.’
“Moreover, gentlemen, this document seemed of no value to those who made use of it. There was no mention of it in the d’Ormescheville report; no question of it in the charges against Dreyfus.
“You know, gentlemen, the source of the document. That matter I have already explained, but I must return to it for a little. Not simply one article appeared in ‘L’Eclair’ in September, 1896. A whole campaign was carried on, and the article of September 15 was itself preceded by an article of September 10, violent against ex-Captain Dreyfus to the last degree. Listen to it.
For some hours it was believed that Dreyfus, the traitor, had escaped. A dispatch has reassured us. He is still in confinement. How long will his captivity last? Undoubtedly, it is only temporary. Occult intelligences are at work to free him. This time there has been no escape, but it is clear that there was a conspiracy. The report started by a foreign newspaper was not a simple canard. It was published deliberately, and it rests on a certain fact. We need no other proof than the emotion which it caused in certain official circles. Whether they confess it or not, they are still concerning themselves regarding this report, in spite of the formal denial that has come from Devil’s Island. An investigation has been opened, and is being carried on with the greatest secrecy. The false news was either a premature announcement of a fact that was to have been accomplished, or it was a part of a plan for defence of the traitor, shrewdly organized by his friends. The family is the soul of this agitation,—the family and its accomplices. For there have been civil accomplices. Perhaps it is time to say so, and to unmask them.
For some hours it was believed that Dreyfus, the traitor, had escaped. A dispatch has reassured us. He is still in confinement. How long will his captivity last? Undoubtedly, it is only temporary. Occult intelligences are at work to free him. This time there has been no escape, but it is clear that there was a conspiracy. The report started by a foreign newspaper was not a simple canard. It was published deliberately, and it rests on a certain fact. We need no other proof than the emotion which it caused in certain official circles. Whether they confess it or not, they are still concerning themselves regarding this report, in spite of the formal denial that has come from Devil’s Island. An investigation has been opened, and is being carried on with the greatest secrecy. The false news was either a premature announcement of a fact that was to have been accomplished, or it was a part of a plan for defence of the traitor, shrewdly organized by his friends. The family is the soul of this agitation,—the family and its accomplices. For there have been civil accomplices. Perhaps it is time to say so, and to unmask them.
“You see the spirit of this article. Is it attributable tothe friends or the family of Dreyfus? I have already said that that cannot be maintained. And this is the proper time to say a word of the communication of the secret file to M. Leblois by Colonel Picquart in September or October, 1896. Do you know what I think about that? I think it a petty matter, uselessly and ridiculously magnified. I think that, when Adjutant Gribelin and Colonel Henry come here in good faith to say that they witnessed this thing, we are in presence of a veritable optical illusion.”
M. Labori then recalled the contradictions in the testimony of M. Gribelin and Colonel Henry, and showed that the pretended visit of M. Leblois to the war department could not have occurred, as he was not in Paris. Consequently it could not have been through him that the article reached “L’Eclair.”
“So ‘L’Eclair’s’ article of September 15, 1896, must have originated with the staff. Who gave it out? That it is impossible to ascertain, but it is to be remembered that, at various times in this campaign, Major Esterhazy has been warned of what was going on at the staff office, and we may inquire whether the person who conveyed these warnings is not the person who communicated the article to ‘L’Eclair.’ We have the more reason to be disturbed about this, because there has been no investigation, in spite of Colonel Picquart’s demand for one.
“And then, gentlemen, what have we to say of all this stage-setting of which you know, this romantic examination and melodramatic arrest of Captain Dreyfus in an office arranged with mirrors on the walls, as is stated in M. du Paty de Clam’s report,—mirrors arranged for the purpose of surprising the play of his features? What shall we say of the scene of dictation, of the threats uttered to Mme. Dreyfus, of the dark lantern by the aid of which, as in the novels of Ponson du Terrail, they expected to surprise the secret of this guilty man’s conscience? I do not dare to say that all this had but one object, but I do say that it had but one result,—that of misleading public opinion. Do you say that these methods were adopted in sincerity? I admit it. Has not M. Zola himself admitted it? Listen to what he said.
I accuse Lieutenant-Colonel du Paty de Clam of having been the diabolical workman of a judicial error,—unconsciously, I am willing to believe,—and of having then defended his calamitous work for three years by the most preposterous and most guilty machinations.I accuse General Mercier of having made himself an accomplice, at least through weakness of mind, in one of the greatest iniquities of the century.
I accuse Lieutenant-Colonel du Paty de Clam of having been the diabolical workman of a judicial error,—unconsciously, I am willing to believe,—and of having then defended his calamitous work for three years by the most preposterous and most guilty machinations.
I accuse General Mercier of having made himself an accomplice, at least through weakness of mind, in one of the greatest iniquities of the century.
“Good faith, gentlemen, is admitted; but where have these men of good faith been led by their credulity? One trembles at the thought of all these puerile details, especially that scene of dictation from thebordereau. At first I did not believe it to be true. It seemed to me to pass the bounds of imagination. I was not convinced, until it was affirmed in the interview with M. Guérin and in the official report of M. d’Ormescheville. What are we to think of these judicial methods? I appeal to all the criminologists here. They say that Dreyfus’s hand trembled. Perhaps it did not tremble, but, even if it did, what does that prove? Fancy, gentlemen, the tone in which Colonel du Paty de Clam, who has been before you and whom you undoubtedly remember, said: ‘You tremble, wretch. Then you are guilty.’ Fancy that! Who would not have trembled? What does it prove? If it proves anything, it proves the emptiness of the charges. Do not forget, gentlemen, that at that moment all had been done. The cell at Cherche-Midi was ready. The order of arrest had been signed, M. Cochefert, of the police, was in the office of Colonel du Paty de Clam, and they did not hesitate to set in motion this romantic and melodramatic machinery. Their evidence was so slight that they had to resort to a melodramatic incident to supply the place of truth.
“Does it astonish you, then, that the council of war, after deliberation, was on the point of acquittal? Oh! gentlemen, I do not need the echoes that have reached my ears to convince me of it. We say that the countersign went forth; we say that a verdict was rendered in obedience to orders; but we do not suspect the honesty of the members of the council of war. If they obeyed orders, it was because they believed that they were obeying just orders. I admit that, had they known the order to be unjust and irregular, they would not have obeyed it. But, from the very fact that the order had been given, they at first concluded that it was just. Nevertheless, when the evidence was before them, and they saw that there was no proof of guilt, they were going to acquit, I do not doubt. They were going to acquit, because they had nothing but thebordereaubefore them; because thebordereauwas the only document involved at the beginning of the trial; because nothing was left but thebordereauat the end of the trial, just as today there is nothing but thebordereau.
“I must demonstrate this to you, gentlemen, step by step. So you will pardon me for reading another document which seems to me indispensable. I borrow from ‘L’Autorité’—forI prefer to borrow from our enemies—the story of the public proceedings of the council of war of 1894. The account is indisputable, and, were it to be questioned, I have here also the account published by ‘La Libre Parole,’ which confirms it at every point.
The presiding judge orders the call of witnesses to begin. Then the representative of the government rises.“By virtue,” he says, “of Article 113 of the code of military justice, which says that, if publicity appears dangerous to good order or to public morals, the council may order the trial to proceed behind closed doors, I move that the doors be closed. You know the documents that are included in the file. I do not need to insist; I know that it will be enough to appeal to your patriotism.”M. Demange asks the floor.The Judge.—“In giving the floor to the counsel, I ask him to confine himself to the question of closed doors, with which alone we are now concerned.”The counsel then begins the reading of his motion, in which, after examining the legal texts permitting the ordering of closed doors, he declares that, since the legislator had in view no special case, it is necessary, whenever the question of closing the doors shall be raised, to inquire into the circumstances of the case, in order to ascertain whether any of them are of such a nature as to make a public trial dangerous to good morals or to good order. And he continues thus:“In fact, from the point of view of the charge here preferred, whereas the only document” ...But the judge abruptly stops him, and says in an imperious tone:“I remind the counsel of my pressing invitation to make no reference to any document here involved.”M. Demange.—“I have the floor to read my motion formulating my opinion regarding closed doors. Under these circumstances, and in my remarks in support of my motion, I shall divulge no documents, but it seems to me necessary to point out” ...The Judge.—“I do not think that it is necessary to point out a single document. Otherwise, the demand of the representative of the government would be entirely illusory.”But M. Demange insists:“I offer a motion. I ask the council to examine certain documents. I reveal nothing of the contents of these documents. I confine myself to my right to specify the facts and circumstances concerning which the members of the council must be satisfied before deciding to close the doors. You will see that I shall reveal nothing.”And he resumes: “Whereas the only document” ...The Judge.—“I cannot allow you to continue thus. You cannot speak of the only document.”M. Brisset, the representative of the government.—“On a question of closing the doors the defence can offer observations only. It is not allowed to offer motions.”M. Demange.—“I had asked to be given a record of the refusal to allow me to offer a motion.”The Judge.—“I give you the record. You can offer your observations, and say what you like, but you must not touch the substance of the question.”M. Demange.—“How can I demonstrate that publicity is not dangerous, if I cannot refer to the material proofs?”The Judge.—“You have no right to do so.”M. Demange.—“But the interest of the defence requires me to develop my motion.”
The presiding judge orders the call of witnesses to begin. Then the representative of the government rises.
“By virtue,” he says, “of Article 113 of the code of military justice, which says that, if publicity appears dangerous to good order or to public morals, the council may order the trial to proceed behind closed doors, I move that the doors be closed. You know the documents that are included in the file. I do not need to insist; I know that it will be enough to appeal to your patriotism.”
M. Demange asks the floor.
The Judge.—“In giving the floor to the counsel, I ask him to confine himself to the question of closed doors, with which alone we are now concerned.”
The counsel then begins the reading of his motion, in which, after examining the legal texts permitting the ordering of closed doors, he declares that, since the legislator had in view no special case, it is necessary, whenever the question of closing the doors shall be raised, to inquire into the circumstances of the case, in order to ascertain whether any of them are of such a nature as to make a public trial dangerous to good morals or to good order. And he continues thus:
“In fact, from the point of view of the charge here preferred, whereas the only document” ...
But the judge abruptly stops him, and says in an imperious tone:
“I remind the counsel of my pressing invitation to make no reference to any document here involved.”
M. Demange.—“I have the floor to read my motion formulating my opinion regarding closed doors. Under these circumstances, and in my remarks in support of my motion, I shall divulge no documents, but it seems to me necessary to point out” ...
The Judge.—“I do not think that it is necessary to point out a single document. Otherwise, the demand of the representative of the government would be entirely illusory.”
But M. Demange insists:
“I offer a motion. I ask the council to examine certain documents. I reveal nothing of the contents of these documents. I confine myself to my right to specify the facts and circumstances concerning which the members of the council must be satisfied before deciding to close the doors. You will see that I shall reveal nothing.”
And he resumes: “Whereas the only document” ...
The Judge.—“I cannot allow you to continue thus. You cannot speak of the only document.”
M. Brisset, the representative of the government.—“On a question of closing the doors the defence can offer observations only. It is not allowed to offer motions.”
M. Demange.—“I had asked to be given a record of the refusal to allow me to offer a motion.”
The Judge.—“I give you the record. You can offer your observations, and say what you like, but you must not touch the substance of the question.”
M. Demange.—“How can I demonstrate that publicity is not dangerous, if I cannot refer to the material proofs?”
The Judge.—“You have no right to do so.”
M. Demange.—“But the interest of the defence requires me to develop my motion.”
“Gentlemen, when I read that for the first time, I did not know that I was reading a phrase of which we should hear an echo in this court-room.
M. Brisset.—“There are other interests at stake in this trial than those of the defence and of the prosecution. Moreover, the judge has the file of documents. He will tell these gentlemen of what they consist.”M. Demange.—“True, the presiding judge knows these documents, and I regret that all the members of the council are not familiar with them. I desire to show that there is no matter of fact here to furnish a sufficient ground for closed doors.”The Judge.—“There is a decree of the court of appeals in 1883 which declares that closed doors may be ordered without consultation of the accused, if higher interests require it. Therefore I do not wish you to touch upon the substance of the issue.”M. Demange.—“Yes or no, is my motion accepted?”M. Brisset.—“File your motion without reading it.”M. Demange.—“I ask for a record of the filing of my motion, and of the refusal to allow me to read it.”M. Brisset.—“But you have been doing that for the last half-hour.”M. Demange.—“I have examined only the question of right.”The Judge.—“That is sufficient.”M. Demange.—“I have read only a part.”M. Brisset.—“It is the principal part.”M. Demange.—“How do you know, since I have not read the whole? My motion is filed. Now I have a right to speak in support of it. I offer two observations.”And M. Demange proceeds to maintain that, if it is true that the court of appeals has decided that a decree is not nullified by the simple fact that the accused was not consulted concerning the question of closing the doors, it is no less true that the accused must be heard when, either in person or through his counsel, he asks to offer observations or motions. M. Demange quotes three decrees in support of this view.“You are,” he adds, “the sole judges of the question of closing the doors. You decide according to your conscience, from an examination of the facts and documents.”The Judge.—“You must not speak of the documents.”M. Demange.—“A decree has declared that the court must consider the circumstances of the case.”The Judge.—“That is what I deny, for then your argument begins.”M. Demange.—“No,Monsieur le Président: I have a right to say that in every case there are moral and material elements. Here I must put them in evidence. I say that the moral elements, like the previous conduct of the accused and his motives, cannot concern order.”The Judge.—“You are now making an argument.”M. Demange.—“So far as the material elements are concerned, order is not endangered, if I ask the counsel to refer to the documents which I simply indicate. The report contains the official record of the document” ...The Judge.—“There I stop you. Otherwise the demand for the closing of the doors becomes illusory.”M. Brisset.—“These are the tactics of the defence.”The Judge.—“In view of the demand of the defence, the council will retire for deliberation.”M. Demange.—“One word more. If we ask publicity, let it be wellunderstood that we do not do so from any belief that your decision will be governed by publicity. We know that you will decide according to your conscience, and that your impartiality will not be affected by a closing of the doors. But no one will contradict me, if I declare that for the last seven weeks the honor of an officer of the French army has been exposed to all sorts of rumors.”At these words the presiding judge rises abruptly and says:“By virtue of my discretionary power, I order that the council now retire.”M. Demange.—“I ask a record of the interruption to which my remarks are thus subjected.”“Yes, I give you the record,” said the judge, as he withdrew.And the council retired amid much excitement.
M. Brisset.—“There are other interests at stake in this trial than those of the defence and of the prosecution. Moreover, the judge has the file of documents. He will tell these gentlemen of what they consist.”
M. Demange.—“True, the presiding judge knows these documents, and I regret that all the members of the council are not familiar with them. I desire to show that there is no matter of fact here to furnish a sufficient ground for closed doors.”
The Judge.—“There is a decree of the court of appeals in 1883 which declares that closed doors may be ordered without consultation of the accused, if higher interests require it. Therefore I do not wish you to touch upon the substance of the issue.”
M. Demange.—“Yes or no, is my motion accepted?”
M. Brisset.—“File your motion without reading it.”
M. Demange.—“I ask for a record of the filing of my motion, and of the refusal to allow me to read it.”
M. Brisset.—“But you have been doing that for the last half-hour.”
M. Demange.—“I have examined only the question of right.”
The Judge.—“That is sufficient.”
M. Demange.—“I have read only a part.”
M. Brisset.—“It is the principal part.”
M. Demange.—“How do you know, since I have not read the whole? My motion is filed. Now I have a right to speak in support of it. I offer two observations.”
And M. Demange proceeds to maintain that, if it is true that the court of appeals has decided that a decree is not nullified by the simple fact that the accused was not consulted concerning the question of closing the doors, it is no less true that the accused must be heard when, either in person or through his counsel, he asks to offer observations or motions. M. Demange quotes three decrees in support of this view.
“You are,” he adds, “the sole judges of the question of closing the doors. You decide according to your conscience, from an examination of the facts and documents.”
The Judge.—“You must not speak of the documents.”
M. Demange.—“A decree has declared that the court must consider the circumstances of the case.”
The Judge.—“That is what I deny, for then your argument begins.”
M. Demange.—“No,Monsieur le Président: I have a right to say that in every case there are moral and material elements. Here I must put them in evidence. I say that the moral elements, like the previous conduct of the accused and his motives, cannot concern order.”
The Judge.—“You are now making an argument.”
M. Demange.—“So far as the material elements are concerned, order is not endangered, if I ask the counsel to refer to the documents which I simply indicate. The report contains the official record of the document” ...
The Judge.—“There I stop you. Otherwise the demand for the closing of the doors becomes illusory.”
M. Brisset.—“These are the tactics of the defence.”
The Judge.—“In view of the demand of the defence, the council will retire for deliberation.”
M. Demange.—“One word more. If we ask publicity, let it be wellunderstood that we do not do so from any belief that your decision will be governed by publicity. We know that you will decide according to your conscience, and that your impartiality will not be affected by a closing of the doors. But no one will contradict me, if I declare that for the last seven weeks the honor of an officer of the French army has been exposed to all sorts of rumors.”
At these words the presiding judge rises abruptly and says:
“By virtue of my discretionary power, I order that the council now retire.”
M. Demange.—“I ask a record of the interruption to which my remarks are thus subjected.”
“Yes, I give you the record,” said the judge, as he withdrew.
And the council retired amid much excitement.
“You see, gentlemen, that everything was done to make the darkness complete. I do not say that the members of the council of war are to be suspected of bad faith. I do not say that, knowing Dreyfus to be innocent, they were determined to convict him at any rate. But I do say that, having entered upon a certain path, a little lightly and almost unconsciously, these men of good faith worked upon themselves by a phenomenon of auto-suggestion which it is very easy to understand. In this respect nothing is more characteristic than the exhibition that M. Bertillon made of himself here. So convinced that he had become as deaf as a stone to the truth, he said: ‘Though I should be shown a hundred officers in the French army who could have written thebordereau, I would declare nevertheless that Dreyfus wrote it, because I have the proof.’
“I add, gentlemen, that it was with the best faith in the world that Colonel Maurel, who presided over the council of war, exhibited the brutality and rudeness of which I have just given you the proof, unaware that he was thus rushing into error perhaps, and at any rate into the illegality that was to come.
“Such, gentlemen, was the position of the Dreyfus case at the opening of the trial before the council of war. Do not think that the trial added anything to the charges. The minister of war, speaking from the tribune of the chamber, has referred to the fact that twenty-seven officers were called as witnesses. In the first place, it is to be noted that these twenty-seven officers included witnesses in favor of Dreyfus as well as witnesses against him. But, for or against, it is now plain that their evidence amounted to nothing. If there existed any serious facts regarding this matter of spying; if there existed between Dreyfus and any foreigner designated by name, between Dreyfus and specified spying agencies, between Dreyfus and definite international agencies, suspicious and intimate relations; if there hadbeen any suspicious journeys or any guilty connections,—they would have been proclaimed before this. Perhaps they would not have been spoken of to M. Trarieux or to M. Scheurer-Kestner, and, when the latter went to see his old friend General Billot, perhaps his old friend would not have taken him into his confidence. But it would have been printed baldly in ‘Le Jour,’ in ‘L’Echo de Paris,’ in ‘L’Eclair,’ which are the recipients of the confidential declarations of the staff. And, if they had not done that, they certainly would have proclaimed them here; and General de Pellieux, if he had been in possession of serious proofs of an earlier date than that of the conviction, would not have been reduced to the introduction into this trial of pretended proofs of a later date, of no more significance than the others.
“Such, then, was the position of the prosecution at the beginning of the trial before the council of war. And, before approaching the capital fact that led to the condemnation,—I mean the communication to the council of one or more secret documents,—I desire to say a word of a certain method that has been employed on several occasions during the last few months to close the mouths of those who champion Dreyfus’s cause. I refer to the confessions said to have been made by him to Captain Lebrun-Renault, on the day of his degradation. If you had been allowed to hear testimony on this matter, you would know what these confessions amount to. You would have seen Captain Lebrun-Renault at this bar. If he had been the first witness to be heard on this point, perhaps they would have allowed him to say that he had received confessions; after which they would have closed the mouths of any witnesses that might have come to contradict him, on the ground that they were talking of the Dreyfus case, and we should have been prohibited from asking any questions. He did not come, but be sure that, if he had come, he would have told a story of pretended confessions. Only, if I had been allowed to question him, I should have asked: ‘At what date did you record these confessions?’ And, if I am not greatly mistaken, he would have answered me that he recorded them at a very recent date,—November, 1897. Then I would have answered him, gentlemen, by a succession of witnesses. We should have seen at this bar M. Clisson, who, in ‘Le Figaro,’ on the day after the degradation, told a story in which, though he had received the confidences of M. Lebrun-Renault, he did not say a word of any confession. His story would have been confirmed by M. Dumont and M. Fontbrune; and finally weshould have called to the stand various other persons, notably the baron de Vaux and Mme. Chapelon. I speak of Mme. Chapelon, because in her case no sort of doubt is possible. She gave an interview to ‘L’Aurore,’ which appeared in that journal on January 25, 1898. That interview concludes thus:
“Do you assert that Captain Lebrun-Renault has always declared that ex-Captain Dreyfus made him no confession?”“I assert it on my honor.”And solemnly Mme. Chapelon added, as we took our departure: ‘I swear it.’
“Do you assert that Captain Lebrun-Renault has always declared that ex-Captain Dreyfus made him no confession?”
“I assert it on my honor.”
And solemnly Mme. Chapelon added, as we took our departure: ‘I swear it.’
“Would Mme. Chapelon have come here to maintain her declaration under oath? There is reason to doubt it, since she afterward went to the office of ‘L’Aurore’ to declare that she was anxious, that threats had been made to her, and that, yielding to these threats, she would not testify. Here, indeed, is the account given by M. Philippe Dubois, which I read from ‘Le Temps’ of February 12, 1898.