Contents | May 2004
More on politics and society from The Atlantic Monthly.
From Atlantic Unbound:
Flashbacks: "Sacco and Vanzetti" (August 23, 2002)
Articles by Felix Frankfurter, Katherine Anne Porter, and lawyer W. G. Thompson offer a look back at the controversial trial and execution of Nicola Sacco and Bartolomeo Vanzetti.
The Atlantic Monthly | May 1898
The Dreyfus And Zola Trials
"For the French nation, the point of
interest has been, not the treason, but
the Jew. No one upon this side of the
water, unless he has read the French
daily newspapers most industriously, can
form an idea of the savage, merciless
onslaught which they have combined to
make upon the unfortunate race."
by John T. Morse, Jr.
.....
he echoes of these great trials have
come to our ears much enfeebled by their
long journey across the Atlantic. Unintelligible cablegrams, and a few stray
newspaper articles based on one or another trifling feature supposed to be serviceably dramatic, constitute our knowledge of an agitation which has shaken
France to the centre, which has intensely excited the whole continent of Europe, which has involved possibilities of political and social revolution, which has led to the serious suggestion of racial crusades and massacres, and which the philosophical historian writing an hundred
years hence will find a vastly more significant, more expressive feature of this age than a whole budget of Venezuelan episodes or Cuban questions. These
trials have been the exponent or the explosion, as you will, of anti-Semitism and of militarism.
For the French nation, the point of
interest has been, not the treason, but
the Jew. No one upon this side of the
water, unless he has read the French
daily newspapers most industriously, can
form an idea of the savage, merciless
onslaught which they have combined to
make upon the unfortunate race. They
have stimulated that which needed no
stimulation,—the blind rage, mingled
with dread and cupidity, which often
means bloodshed. For many years past
anti-Semitism has been rapidly advancing in France, somewhat less rapidly in
other Continental countries. This Dreyfus case is only a measure whereby we
can gauge the height to which the race
hatred has risen. Will it now subside?
The only cheering indication is the present violence, such as usually foreruns reaction. The state of feeling is mediæval,
but probably the demonstration will stop
short of the St. Bartholomew which some
of the fanatics have dared to mention.
Nevertheless, in France to-day it is perilous to be a Jew.
Yet, in spite of the fierce support given
by the anti-Semites, the small band of
distinguished citizens who condemned the
proceedings in the Dreyfus case would
have forced the government either to submit to a revision or to show that conclusive evidence which it professed to have,
had it not been for the element of "our
dearest blessing, the army." The political life of the Cabinet flickered dubiously
until the cry of "Vive l'armée!" was
raised, and then all was safe. "Vive l'armée" might involve not only "Down with Jews," "Down with Dreyfus and Zola,"
but also "Down with law and justice." No matter; down let them go, and let
the ruins make an altar for Esterhazy,
wretch and probably enough traitor, but
an officer, and not a Jew. As one French
officer, who seemed in his private opinion
to hold Dreyfus innocent, gallantly said,
"The verdict of the court-martial is for
me as conclusive as the word of God."
Precisely this has been the position in
which the French government has been
sustained by the French people. The
principle has been laid down that the generals of the French army are not only
trustworthy, but infallible. Not many
generations ago the French ventured to
set aside the Sermon on the Mount, but
to-day they cannot set aside the finding
of a board of army officers. The secret
proceedings in the Dreyfus case, the limitatiorms established for and during the
Zola trial, offend our sense of justice;
but the former are probably a necessary
part of militarism, and the latter were
in part proper, and in other parts they
awake the old discussion as to the merits
of French and Anglo-Saxon systems of
criminal procedure.
The whole business, in whatever aspect we regard it, undoubtedly soothes our sense of self-satisfaction, so that we
thank Heaven that we are not as the
Frenchmen are. We ought also, however, to thank Heaven that we are not
subject to the same conditions which embarrass the French. If all the Jews of
Continental Europe were suddenly to be
transported to this continent, we might
find the national digestion, powerful as it
is, badly nauseated. Neither ought we
to forget our action as to the Chinese.
If Canada and Mexico were to us what
Germany and Italy are to France, we
should probably change our sentiments
about standing armies, court-martials,
and militarism in general. When a rich
man sees a poor man pick a pocket, he
must condemn the poor man, but moderately, and he should not indulge in
self-glorification because he himself has never appropriated as alieni, at least in the like manner.
October 29, 1894, la Libre Parole,
edited by M. Edouard Drumont, a very
lunatic among anti-Semites, hinted at an
important arrest. On November 1 it
stated that an attaché on the staff of the
Ministry of War had been arrested for
treason, and maliciously added: "The
matter will be suppressed because the
officer is a Jew. Seek among the Drey-
fus, the Mayers, or the Lévys, and you
will find him. He has made full confession, and there is absolute proof that
he has told our secrets to Germany." In
fact, Captain Alfred Dreyfus had already been for several days in the military prison of Cherche Midi, but so secretly immured that his name was not
on the register, and he had been seen by
only one attendant.
Many months before this time the
War Departuient had become convinced
that a leakage was going on toward Germany. Thereupon, an employee at the
German Embassy, who habitually broke
instructions by selling, instead of destroying, the contents of the waste-paper baskets, was induced, by the offer of a better price, to sell his rubbish to two new
chiffoniers. One day, these persons,
French detectives of course, found in the
waste four fragments of a peculiar kind
of paper, used by photographers. These
pieces, being carefully put together, constituted the famous bordereau. This was
a memorandum, specifying five documents relating to military secrets, which
purported to have been sent by the writer
to some one; but by whom and to whom
did not appear, for there was neither address nor signature. Immediately there
was an exaumination of handwritings of
employees at the War Department, and
Captain Dreyfus was singled out as an
object of suspicion. He was summoned
into a room around which looking-glasses
had been skillfully disposed, and was
ordered to write from dictation sentences
which repeated phrases of the bordereau;
he was made to rewrite some of the
words as many as sixty times, now seated, now standing, now barehanded, now
with gloves on, now rapidly, now slowly.
Some say that he lost his self-possession, and that, vhen some one said his
hand trembled, he attributed it to cold.
A different story is, that the remarkable
degree to which he kept his self-possession, under so trying and suggestive an
ordeal, was construed as indicating guilt.
Either way, the fact was turned against
him, and the arrest was made on the
spot. Simultaneously, Commandant du
Paty de Clam hastened to the house of
Dreyfus, and conducted a thorough ransacking, but without result; for, said an
anti-Semite newspaper, all incriminating
papers were in the strong-box of an accomplice. But for seventeen days the
commandant improved his opportunity
to torture the unfortunate wife with varied and ingenious barbarity; refusing to
tell her where her husband was confined
or of what crime he was accused, but assuring her that his guilt was unquestionable, and illustrating this opinion by
drawing strange geometrical diagrams.
He said that the penalty of the crime
was death, and reminded her of the man
in the iron mask. He also told her that
her husband was leading "a double life,
unexceptionable at home, but in reality
monstrous."
A court-martial was promptly convened, sat with closed doors, and found
the accused man guilty. He was publicly degraded from his rank in the
army, the galons were torn from his uniform, and his sword was broken; while he maintained a defiant aspect, protesting his innocence, and crying, "Vive la
France " His sentence, of unusual severity, was deportation for life to Ile du
Diable, a barren little island off the coast
of French Guiana.
If Dreyfus had not been a Jew, he would have dropped into his exile with
little observation, and would have been
soon forgotten; but the race element
came in to prevent the possibility of indifference or oblivion. The anti-Semites
triumphed in a Jewish treason, and
abused the government for putting a
Jew in the War Bureau, where he could
get at salable information. Of course
he dealt in it, they said. Also of course
they compared him to Judas; forgetting
that if Judas was a Jew, so also was
Christ. La Croix boasted that Frenchmen were preëminently enemies du peuple déicide, as if such hatred was creditable to Christians. M. Drumont talked of la fatalité de la race. On the other
side, the Dreyfus family strongly backed among the haute Juiverie, and with
abundance of money, cried out that an
innocent man had been found guilty for
no other reason than because he was a
Jew; and they kept up an untiring agitation of the matter.
So long as rigid secrecy was preserved
the position of the government was absolutely impregnable. But in the au-
tumn of 1896 a false rumor of the prisoner's escape revived the waning interest,
and thereupon some one who knew the
facts could no longer hold his peace. This
leaky person was generally understood
to be General Mercier, who had been
Minister of War at the time of the court-
martial; but he stoutly denied it, when
on the stand in the Zola case. Very appropriately, l'Eclair let in the first ray
of light by publishing the bordereau, —
at first incorrectly, afterward accurately;
and soon le Matin gave a facsimile. In
the Zola trial General de Pellieux said
"People talk much of this bordereau,
but few have seen it. . . . Nothing can
be less like it than are the facsimiles."
But Me Demange, who also had seen it,
said that the facsimile in le Matin was
strikingly good (saisissant).
Prior to the court-martial three so-
called and miscalled experts in handwriting had been consulted by the government. Theic was the military man,
du Paty de Clam, who had no skill in
the difficult science of graphology; there
was M. Gobert, a person sometimes employed by the Bank of France, who expressed an opinion that the handwriting
of the bordereau might very well be that
of some other person than Dreyfus; and
there was M. Bertillon, an attaché of
the police service, famous for his fad concerning the study of criminals by physical measurements; he reported that if
he were to set aside the hypothesis that
the document might have been most
carefully forged by some imitator of the
handwriting of Dreyfus, he should then
attribute it to Dreyfus. Precisely this
hypothesis, which he thus set aside, became afterward the Dreyfusian theory
of the case. Such "expert" testimony
amounted to nothing. It was not materially strengthened by three other witnesses, of like qualifications, who appeared
before the court-martial, and of whom one
was for Dreyfus and two were against
him. M. Bernard Lazare, a Parisian
journalist of repute and a strenuous
Dreyfusard, remarked that when prosecuting authorities consult experts it is
"not in order to exculpate some one;
yet two of the government experts had
exculpated Dreyfus. Now the facsimile gave this zealous friend his opportunity,
and M. Lazare immediately sought the
judgment of leading graphologists in
France and in other countries. As a
result he published twelve favorable opinions in a volume, in which he also gave
facsimiles of the handwriting of Dreyfus
in parallel columns with facsimiles of
the bordereau.
By all this examination it was established that between the handwriting of
the borderean and that of Dreyfus there
was a general resemblance, but with
certain distinct differences. Some letters
were said even to stand the test of superposition. Hence originated the suggestion that these letters had been traced,
and other parts had been originally written with intentional variations; also that
the bordereau was a combination of the
writing of Alfred Dreyfus and that of his
brother Mathieu. The paper of the bordereau was of a texture which admitted
tracing. The Dreyfusards sneered at so
laborious and so clumsy a resource, and
said that the combination of close likeness with slight yet essential differences
was precisely what would be expected in
the case of a forgery. They asked pertinently, Since Dreyfus was an Alsatian,
familiar with the German language and
writing, why, if he was writing to Germans, did he not safely use the German
script? They urged that the peculiar
paper of the bordereau was of German
manufacture, and that none like it was
found at the house of Dreyfus. Also
they asked the fundamental question,
Why should Dreyfus have increased the
danger by sending this useless bordereau
at all? Why not have simply dispatched
the documents which were named in it?
They also criticised the failure to produce the persons who brought the bordereau, when it was upon their act that the
whole superstructure of the case rested.
Against this, however, was the firm principle forbidding such use of government
detectives.
It was almost a matter of course that
there should be legends of confession.
Of these, the earlier one was almost certainly false ; but the later one is not
quite so easily disposed of. This was
that, at the time of his military degradation, Dreyfus had told Captain Lebrun„
Renault that he had indeed given information to Germany, but in the hope of
drawing out in return much more important information for France. This story,
however, never came at first-hand from
Lebrun„Renault himself, and there is no
direct evidence to sustain it. General
Cavaignae declared, in the Chamber of
Deputies, that the statement of the confession was on file at the Ministry of
War, — a fact presumably within his own personal and official knowledge; but
upon being directly questioned he admitted that he had never seen the document; and being again asked for the
basis of his certainty, he replied that he
was ñmorally sure.î The Dreyfusards,
betwixt ridicule and indignation, responded that they were much more than
morally sure of many facts in the case.
In the Zola trial, Forzinetti, commander of the prison, being interrogated by
Me Labori as to a confession, was forbidden to answer; but elsewhere he had
strenuously denied any such occurrence.
It is very difficult to believe that a confession was made. If it had been, the
government could have quieted this
whole perilous excitement by merely
stating the fact, without infringing upon
the secrecy of their detective service.
Moreover, the consistent and persistent
behavior of Dreyfus indicates great resolution in asserting innocence. On the
other hand, such efforts were made to
lead him into the blunder of confessing
that, if they had succeeded, the confession
would have lost much of its natural value.
A vital question was, whether or not
Dreyfus had access to the documents
named in the bordereau. Apparently,
no evidence was offered to this point,
except that in the Ministry of War he
was known as a prying character, accustomed to ask questions and to look over
the shoulders of other employees. Now
a precise investigation revealed that as
to one document he could have got knowledge only by inquiry from the Artillery
Bureau, and it was alleged that the officers of that bureau affirmatively testified that they had never been questioned
by him. Of another document only a
limited number of copies had been issued for distribution to the army corps,
and the government had kept careful
trace of each one of these, without being able to bring one home to him. Finally, the bordereau closed with the line,
"Je vais partir en man¦vres." At
any time when it was possible that these
documents could have been transmitted,
Dreyfus was not going to any man¦vres.
In the natural search for a motive la
Libre Parole suggested: "His treason
is probably a thoroughly Jewish act, —
an act of ingratitude and hate, whereby
Jews have always been wont to reward
nations who have harbored them.
Money, however, seemed more satisfactory, and stories were circulated that
Dreyfus was a gambler and a dissolute
liver; but he was neither the one nor
the other, and he was rich.
If the bordereau had been given out in the hope of silencing the Dreyfusards,
all this criticism showed that it had signally failed. Accordingly, a second effort now followed, again by the familiar
channel of l'Eclair. It was said that
a letter, written by a military attaché of
the German Embassy at Paris to a member of the German Embassy in Italy, —
both names were given eventually, —
had been held up in transitu sufficiently
long to be "skillfully read and prudently photographed;" that when the court-
martial showed hesitation as to convicting upon the sole evidence of the bordereau, this letter was laid before the members, and at once "induced unanimity in their implacable decision;" but
that it was not made known to Dreyfus or to his counsel. Reasons of state and
la haute politique compelled profound secrecy. Some persons even believed
that if its contents should leak out, the
German army would start the next day
for Paris. Very soon, however, the curious public was assured that the sentence supposed to be fatal to Dreyfus
was this simple remark: "Decidedly,
this animal, Dreyfus, is getting too exacting." There did not seem anything
in these words to bring the Germans
again to Paris! But even in these an
essential correction was soon made:
Dreyfas was not named in the letter at
all; the last sentence had only the initial letter "D." This left it as a mere item of evidence; and it appeared that
the French government had had the
letter for many months before the arrest
of Dreyfus, and that it had fastened the
" D" upon at least two other persons.
The situation now was substantially
this: the admission that this secret letter was necessary tn induce conviction
involved the admission of the insufficiency of the bordereau; but the fact
that in the letter there was only an initial left that also inconclusive ; finally, the placing of secret evidence before the
judges created a great storm of indignation; it was a violation alike of technical law and substantial justice. Persons who were neither Jews nor lovers
of Jews, even some who thought that
Dreyfas might very well be guilty, now
demanded a revision of his case; and
these recruits came largely from the
more intelligent and thinking classes.
Me Demange took a skillful position:
he refused to be a party to these proceedings, because he would not believe
that any such "enormity," such "flagrant violation of the rights of the defendant," could have been committed. But
the government stood stubbornly to its
colors, refused discussion, and said that
the affair was chose jugée and should
never be reopened. A majority in the
Chamber of Deputies sustained this position; and the great multitude of the
people, strong in their hatred of Judaism, remained well pleased. Nevertheless, the situation was by no means satisfactory.
Now some newspapers revived an interesting story. It was remembered that
N. Casimir Périer had resigned the
presidency of the Republic about the
time of the Dreyfus trial, on the ground
that he could not endure the combination of moral responsibility and powerlessness. The tale told by le Rappel
was, that N. de Munster, the German
Minister, had called upon the President,
and said that he was instructed by his
sovereign to give assurance that Dreyfus
had not, either in France or in Belgium,1
nearly or distantly, been in relation
with the secret service of the German
government. The ambassador further
suggested that one must be bien naïf
to believe that a diplomat could have
thrown into a waste-paper basket so important a document. Further, it was
said that the Emperor of Germany had
addressed an autograph letter to the
President of France, saying: I give
you my word of honor as a man that
Captain Dreyfus has never betrayed
France to the German government; and
if need should be, I will give you my
word as Emperor, with all the consequences thereof." Finally, N. Casimir
Périer was declared to have said of the
story, "It is not precisely so," thereby
confirming the substance by contradicting only the detail. Now, if the President did in fact receive these communications, he could do absolutely nothing
except refer them to his ministers; and
when the ministers refused to act on
them he was in a false and humiliating
position, out of which he might naturally get by precisely that act of resignation which had appeared so singular.
Probabilities seem to favor the truth of
this story; and if it was false, there could be no objection to contradicting it. In
the Zola case Casimir Périer was on the
witness-stand, but gave out nothing of
interest. He said that it was his duty
not to tell the whole truth.
Probably out of this German story
grew the suggestion that the treason of
Dreyfus had moved, not toward Germany, but toward Russia; and this, as
many persons conceived, might explain
the unwillingness to make public the secret letter. There is no way of absolutely disproving this theory; but not
one particle of evidence supports it, and
it stands as an arbitrary and gratuitous
fancy. Moreover, much must be explained away before it can be admitted.
How came the bordereau in the German waste-paper basket? How did it
happen that the secret letter was written by one German attaché to another? Why, when some one who knew the
whole story gave out the evidence, did
he state that the communications had
been made to Germany? And why had
Casimir Périer hesitated to clear the
German Emperor of alleged interferences? The ingenious theory has possibility, for, as the Italian peasant said
to Dickens, "all things are possible;"
but beyond this nothing can be said in
support of it.
In the procession of sensations, the
next to arrive was that of Esterhazy.
Lieutenant-Colonel Picquart, after eager
investigation, had satisfied himself that
this man was the real criminal. He
stated his discoveries to Mathien Dreyfus, who in turn formally denounced Esterhazy to the Minister of War. Esterhazy was not only a bad man in the
ordinary sense of the term, but he was a thorough villain. Certain letters written
by him some time before were now made
public, and rendered it entirely probable
that he might be a traitor. There occurred in them many venomous insults
toward the French army: "Our great chiefs, cowardly and ignorant, will go
once more to people the German prisons." "After getting to Lyons, the Germans will throw away their guns, and
keep only their canes [or ramrods 2] to
chase the French before them." There
was much more to the like purport with
these samples. With incredible effrontery Esterhazy admitted all save the famous "uhlan letter;" and as to that he
admitted that the handwriting was closely like his own. In it he spoke of the
pleasure with which he would cause the
death of a hundred thousand Frenchmen; said that to see Paris taken by
assault and given over to the pillage of
a hundred thousand drunken soldiers
was a fête of which he dreamed, and
that if he were told that he was to be
slain the next day as a captain of uhlans
sabring Frenchmen he should be perfectly happy. In view of public excitement, it was deemed necessary to try
Esterhazy by court-martial; yet the government stated beforehand its strange
position, that whatever might be the outcome of his case, the Dreyfus case would
remain unaffected thereby. Ministers
did not mean to be at all embarrassed
if they should find themselves with two
traitors and only one treason! Yet the
assertion was superfluous, since Esterhazy was innocenté par avance.
The only question at this trial was
whether or not Esterhazy wrote the bordereau. The doors were closed. Colonel Picquart made his statement. The
batch of graphologues filed into court,
and asserted in theatrical chorus that
Esterhazy never wrote that bordereau, —
never! They even declared they were
doubtful whether he had written some
of the letters which he himself acknowledged. One docile expert, who had said
that Dreyfus had traced some of his
own handwriting in the bordereau, now said that Dreyfus had also traced in the
bordereau some of Esterhazy's handwriting! If there was a lack of originality in the suggestion, there was also a
lack of any plausible reason for it. Upon
such evidence the court could only acquit the defendant. Thereupon came a
surprising scene. The accused man, his
breast sparkling with decorations, received in his arms his weeping advocate,
and contributed his own tears; the members of the court-martial congratulated
him avec émotion; every one shook hands
with him, and the crowd outside shrieked,
"Vive l'armée!" and "Vive Esterhazy!" — certainly a strange fellowship of
cries.
One cannot but reflect that if Dreyfus had been tried in the same spirit in
which Esterhazy was tried, he would
have been acquitted, and vice versa. It
is impossible, upon the merits, much to
differentiate the two cases. At each
trial the substantial question was of
handwriting, and at neither did the experts deserve the name. In the Dreyfus case they contradicted one another; in the Esterhazy case they stultified
themselves. Was there much to choose?
Two women shall be grinding at the
mill; one shall be taken, and the other
shall be left. If one of these women
were a Jewess, and the other a Christian,
the French government would have no
difficulty in making the selection.
Dreyfus had now become a symbol
between Semites and anti-Semites; he
was the test of victory : —
"For Titus dragged him by the foot,
And Aulus by the head."
With the Jews stood a cohort composed
of men of brains and independence,
lovers of justice, who worried themselves
about neither Jew nor Gentile, but who
believed that a gross injustice had put in jeopardy the safety of every citizen of France. On the anti-Semite side were
the mass of the people, the government,
and the army, — an invincible combination, but unfortunate in having to adopt
as their symbol the disreputable Esterhazy.
On January 13, 1898, l'Aurore published Zola's famous letter to M. Félix
Faure, President of the Republic. It
filled nearly eight columns, and was clear,
forcible, dramatic, — an admirable composition. What fuel it was! The flames
of conflict roared and sprang aloft toward the heavens. It was certainly an
act of reckless daring, and I believe
that it was also an honest act, though
others have seen in it only an advertisement, — a novel and very perilous
experiment in that direction, one would
think. The press overwhelmed him with
abuse, repudiated him as a fellow countryman, and called him auteur de pornographies and écrivain immonde, and
many unsavory names. When French
newspapers cried out against his coarseness, it was evident that even the French
sense of humor had succumbed to the
intensity of the situation, and was fairly
drowned beneath the raging torrent of
anti-Semitism. They said that "in an
epileptic attack he had insulted our dearest blessing, the army." In vain did
he explain that his attack was not upon
the army, but only upon a few individuals; none the less did the illogical mobs
continue to shriek, "A bas les Juifs!
"Vive l'armée!" "A bas Zola!" as an
allied trinity of cries.
The government, unable to ignore such
a defiance, at once instituted a prosecution against M. Zola and M. Perrenx,
editor of l'Aurore. From the moment
of the Dreyfus arrest the government
had held "the inside track," and this
now meant the very great advantage of
selecting the field of battle. In the long
list of arraignments made by Zola was
this sentence —
"I accuse the first Council of War of
having violated the law by condemning
the accused on a piece of evidence which
was kept secret; and I accuse the second Council of War of having, under
orders, covered this illegality by committing in its turn the crime at law of
knowingly acquitting a guilty man."
The government based its proceedings
only upon the second half of this charge.
In other words, the Esterhazy case was
to be retried, and that was all. A curious world was disappointed, but the government was well advised; its whole business was to convict the defendants
in the surest, simplest way. The advocate-general, van Cassel, promptly demanded a strict limitation to the precise
question: "Have the judges of Commandant Esterhazy committed the crime
of rendering a judgment to order?"
Maîtres Labori and Clémenceau, counsel for MM. Zola and Perrenx, resisted:
"It was impossible thus to get to the
bottom of the affair; the incriminated
passage, taken in isolation, was incomprehensible ; it was against good sense and
justice to select arbitrarily a short passage from the letter, to the exclusion of
the general purport and bearing of the
whole."
Zola added: "How can we show that
an illegality has been covered, if we are
not allowed to show that an illegality
has been committed?"
But the situation was Zola's misfortune; the ruling of the court in favor of
the advocate-general was inevitable.
When Me Labori began to name his
witnesses, the result was like that which
befell the man who made a great supper and bade many guests, and they all
with one consent began to make excuse.
A nuniber of nuilitary men were not free
to speak on grounds of "professional
secrecy," and the ladies were all ill.
The widow Chapelin had an influenza
and a sick baby, and frankly declared
that if forced to testify she would say
"the contrary of the truth." Me Lahon argued fairly that these persons
could not know beforehand to what point they would be questioned, and
complained that the military men made
themselves "a caste apart." The court
ordered most of them to appear.
Madame Dreyfus was the first witness, and was asked under what conditions she learned of the arrest of her husband, and what she thought of the good
faith of M. Zola. The president of the
court ruled the question out. M. Zola
said that he "claimed such advantages
as were accorded to robbers and assassins, whose witnesses were named and
heard; that he was insulted in the streets,
menaced with violence, his carriage windows were broken; the jury should have
those facts; and was he not to be permittecl to show his good faith?" The
president assured him that the question
was contrary to law. Zola responded:
"I do not know the law; and, at time
moment, I do not wish to know it. I
am accused, and I ought to have the
right of defense."
More questions were ruled out, and
again M. Zola protested: "To present
a portion of my letter only in order to
bring me within reach of the law is a
disgrace to justice. I do not put myself
above the law, and have never said so
but I do put myself above the hypocritical procedure which seeks to close my
mouth." (Applause.)
Colonel Picquart had been practically the prosecutor of Esterhazy; at the
court-martial his evidence had been
given within closed doors, hut now he
told his story to the world. In 1896, the
fragments of a torn carte-télégramme,
the petit bleu, had "fallen into his
hands." He did not explain why these
fragments excited his interest, but they
did so, for he had them carefully put
together; and thereby he found that the
card was addressed to Commandant Esterhazy, and that its contents and signature indicated something wrong. Thereupon he made inquiries about Esterhazy, and learned that he was a gambler,
a speculator, a borrower of money, a coureur de femmes, and a general scoundrel, easily to be suspected of any baseness. He then had the petit bleu photographed, and two witnesses concerned
in this task said that he desired to have
the marks of tearing made to disappear,
also to omit certain words. This looked
disingenuous; but Picquart explained,
reasonably, that he had only wished to
leave out titles, addresses, and signatures,
so that experts examining the handwriting should not know who was under investigation. Further, the card bore no post-stamp to indicate delivery, and these
witnesses said that Picquart had desired
to have a postmark put upon it. This
he absolutely denied, saying that some
one of them, looking at the card, had
remarked, "It does not look authentic;
there ought to be a postmark on it," —
which might have been distorted into the
evidence given.
Why, in connection with a card written to Esterhazy, Picquart had desired
specimens of writing by Esterhazy does
not appear; but he had sought them, and
had them in his possession when le Matin
published the facsimile of the bordereau.
Immediately Picquart was struck by the
resemblance of the handwriting to that
of Esterhazy. He hastened to M. Bertillon, whmo at once said that the Esterhazy specimen was the handwriting of
the writer of the borderean ; and being
told that the specimen was written subsequent to time conviction of Dreyfus, he
said that evidently the Jews had had
some one at work learning to imitate
the writing of the bordereau. This evidence of Picquart was corroborated by
time Deputy Hubbard, to whom the foolish Bertihlon said that he would not look
at Esterhazy's handwriting; that Esterhazy would end by confession; but that
at any rate there must be no revision,
which would mean a social revolution;
that at times prefects of police bade one
speak, at other times they bade one keep
silence. The quasi expert du Paty de
Clam also admitted the likeness of the writings, but suggested Mathieu Dreyfus as the writer. A banker, who had
operated for Esterhazy on the Bourse,
was so struck by the resemblance that
he called the attention of Mathieu Dreyfus to it. One other person, also, was
profoundly affected, and that was Commandant Esterhazy himself, who hurried
about Paris for a couple of days, beneath
a pelting rain, behaving like one demented. In his wanderings he came into the
office of la Libre Parole, and there said:
"Yes, between the handwriting of the
bordereau and mine there is a frightful [effrayante] resemblance; and when
le Matin published the facsimile, I felt
myself lost."
Picquart had thus far pushed his
investigation with more satisfaction to
himself than to the government, which
apparently had no desire to have a second traitor on its hands. Accordingly,
at this inopportune moment his chiefs
sent him to Tunis, in the hope, it was
said, that he would die upon an unwholesome expedition there. But the
generals testified that the fact was only
that he was so absorbed in one idea,
so "hypnotized" by it, that he had temporarily lost his usefulness, and it was
expected that he would return in a more
"normal temper." While he was there
he received some puzzling telegrams: —
"Your sudden departure has thrown
us all into disorder; the work is compromised."
"All is discovered. Matter very serious.
"They have proof that the petit blen
has been made up by George."
Picquart observed that upon one of
these telegrams his name was spelled
without the "c," and that it had been
spelled in the same manner in a letter received by him at nearly the same time
from Esterhazy. He became suspicions
that Esterhazy was preparing charges of
forgery and conspiracy against him, and
sent two of the telegrams to the War
Department, with a request for an inves
tigation. Later, it appeared that Esterhazy, in Paris, had knowledge of these
documents at an unaccountably early
date. When Picquart came back to
Paris for the trial, he found himself by
no means any longer a favorite, but, on
the contrary, he was received "rather as
one accused than as a witness." Apparently, he now, at the Zola trial, made a
good impression by his testimony, for at
the end of his most important day he
"received an ovation," which was a rare
occurrence on his side of that case.
Also, in his character of prosecutor
of Esterhazy, Picquart went further, by
showing that Esterbazy had sought information in the direct line of the documents enumerated by the bordereau, and that, in fact, soon after the probable date of the bordereau Esterhazy was
sent upon some manoeuvres. But thereupon arose an angry discussion as to the
date of the bordereau, the generals setting it in September, or possibly August,
while their opponents said that it had
always been set by every one in April.
General de Pellieux, who bore the burden for the government, testified that
he had investigated the charges against Esterhazy prior to the court-martial, and
found no evidence of guilt, but that he
did find that Colonel Picquart was in
need of discipline (which he got in Africa); that Colonel Picquart had failed
to show that the petit bleu was sent
by mail by a foreign military attaché to
Esterhazy; that the card did not appear
genuine; and that Picquart had shown
singular naïiveté in fancying that such a
communication would be so openly made.
But this came with an ill grace after
the earlier naïveté of believing that the
bordereau had been thrown into a wastepaper basket. The general was moved,
at one point, to exclaim: "I will not
admit that seven officers, several of
whom have spilled their blood on battlefields, while other persons were I know
not where, can be accused of having acquitted by order!"
Zola interrupted: "There are different
ways of serving France; one can serve
her by the sword or by the pen. M. le
général de Pellieux has doubtless won
battles. I also have won mine. My
works have carried the French language
throughout all the universe. Posterity
will choose between General de Pellieux
and Emile Zola."
At another point in the case General
de Pellieux had quite a brush with M.
Jaurès, the famous Socialist member of
the Chamber of Deputies, who addressed
to the jury an elaborate and sufficiently
eloquent speech, thinly salted with testimony.
"I consider," said M. Jaurès, "that
the conduct of the trial of Esterhazy
justifies the most vehement of M. Zola's
outbursts of indignation; it justifies also
the alarm of those who, profoundly respecting the national army, yet do not
wish to see the military power raise itself above all control and all law."
"Why," he asked, "has it been necessary to conduct in secrecy the examination of experts in handwriting?"
He referred also to the "very disquieting" fact that no investigation had
been made to discover how the secret
letter, or a photographic copy thereof,
on which Dreyfus was condemned, had
come by the singular channel of a "veiled
lady" into the hands of Esterhazy, and
had there remained several days. When
this paper, of such immeasurable importance, was found to have reached Esterhazy, evidently by connivance on the
part of the Etat Major, no investigation
was ordered! Did not this publish the
resolution of the Staff Office to protect
Esterhazy thoroughly and at all cost?
Everything, he said, showed that the trial
had been conducted, "not with a view
to truth and justice, but for the systematic justification of the great military
chiefs." Matters had gone in the same
way in the Chamber of Deputies, where
he had introduced the question whether
or not a document, which might prove
culpability, had been communicated to
the judges, but not to the accused and
his counsel. He had been able to obtain no direct answer. M. Meline had
said, "I cannot answer you without
serving your schemes," — as though, in
the land of the Declaration of the Rights
of Man, it were a "scheme" to say that
a man could not be convicted on secret
evidence! Afterward, however, the deputies had thronged around him, and
had said: "You are quite right; but
how unfortunate that this affair should
have broken out just before election!
General de Pellieux replied to this
"admirable speech:" —
"I am not a soul of crystal, and I
have had enough of all these splashings
of mud with which people are trying to
bespatter men who have no other care
than their duty. I can stand it no longer! I say that it is culpable, criminal,
to rob the army of the confidence which
it has in its chiefs. In the day of peril,
nearer perhaps than you think, what do
you expect this army to do? It is to
butchery that your sons will be led, gentlemen of the jury! And on that day
M. Zola will have gained a new battle.
He will write a new Dé'bâcle, and it will
be spread abroad throughout a Europe
from which France will be erased."
His words were loudly applauded.
Me Labori turned to the audience and rebuked them; the president of the court
in turn rebuked him. He retorted:
"The lawyers are forbidden, and properly, to make manifestations. Why,
then, is it endured that officers of artillery, in full uniform, should applaud
ostentatiously?" The president threatened to forbid his speaking. "Do so!"
exclaimed Me Labori. "M. le général
de Pellieux has suggested future battles.
In him I respect my chief, for I also belong to the army. But I can tell him
that on that day of battle my blood will
be as good as his!"
In fact, one can hardly be surprised that Me Labori felt it as an unfair burden that generals came daily into court
as witnesses; not only addressing the
jury, sometimes with much eloquence,
but dazzling them by the éclat of their
military insignia and decorations, and
by their official character. After one of
the hearings, General de Peliieux, "profoundly moved," passed out of the Palais
de Justice, weeping and shaking hands
with the crowd, whose patriotic fervor
was boiling. At the same moment Esterhazy appeared. Men took off their
hats and crushed around him, and one
kissed him, whilst all joined in shouting,
"Vive Esterhazy" "Vive l'armée"
"Saluez la victime" "A bas les
Juifs"
The conduct of Commnndant Esterhazy was both prudent and simple. He
came upon the witness-stand, turned his
back upon Me Labori, and when a question was put to him by that gentleman
stated that he should answer no question whatsoever coming from that side.
Thereupon Me Labori requested the
president to put the question, and the
president did so. Esterhazy replied
"Although you do me the honor, M. le
Président, to transmit this question, it
remains all the same the question of Me.
Labori; therefore I will not answer."
Apparently, there is no process in French
law whereby a recalcitrant witness can
be made to answer a question, if he does
not wish to. Accordingly, in this case
Maîtres Labori and Clémenceau had no
other course than to put all their questions without receiving an answer to any
one of them. This they did, and in so
doing covered thoroughly all the points
which were charged against Esterhazy.
The interrogatories fill nearly three columns of le Ternps. and make, by implication, a terrible arraignment of the man
who dared not answer them.
In connection with Esterhazy, it is
worthwhile to mention the evidence of
M. Huret. who had been sent to Rouen
to find out what was thought of Esterhazy by his regimental comrades. He
testified that he was struck by the fact
that the news of the suspicion which had
fallen upon the commandant excited not
a ripple of astonishment. The officers
said that they were not surprised. When
he asked, "Why so?" they gave no definite reason; but one of them told him
that when news had come that a commandant, not on active duty, was under
suspicion of treason, several at the Rouen
garrison had suggested Esterhazy.
M. Bertillon, the government's expert
in handwriting, was as grotesque as a
character in a farce. He admitted that
he had no confidence in his art, and yet
alleged that by that art he was "sure"
that Dreyfus wrote the bordereau. He
said of the bordereau: "It obeys a geometric rhythm of which the equation is
found in the blotter of Dreyfus." He
had much to say about dextrogyre and
sénestrogyre. Altogether, he justified
Me Labori in exclaiming, "Experts are
not yet oracles!" and in the sneering
charge that M. Bertillon had based the
culpability of Alfred Dreyfus on a letter written by Mathieu Dreyfus.
The defendants called several experts
in graphology. One of them, M. Héricourt, stated that variations in handwriting are in harmony with physiological
variations of the writer; and, applying
this subtle principle, he declared the
bordereau to be the handwriting of Esterhazy. For the most part, however,
these experts gave testimony in a manner both intelligent and intelligible.
There were several instances of what
the French newspapers called "incidents
of vivacity." One of these vivacious occurrences consisted in the exchange of
the lie between Colonel Picquart and
Commandant Henry. This afterward
occasioned a duel, more serious than
most French duels, in which Henry received a rather bad wound. Another
incident arose in the examination of
General Gonse, who lost his temper, and
exclaimed that the questions put to him
were "traps." For this discourtesy he afterward apologized, saying that he respected justice and had yielded to his
emotions. Thereupon, Me Ployer, apparently a sort of amicus curiae, said,
"General, I thank you in the name of
the whole bar;" and the "incident was
closed." This witness, by the way, took
the difficult position that the Dreyfus case
must not be opened, but that the question of Esterhazy's guilt should be investigated, though independently.
General Mercier testified that he did
not know from what source l'Eclair and
le Matia had derived their knowledge
about Dreyfus, and denied having ever
said that a document had been secretly submitted to the court-martial. But
when pressed to state whether in fact
there had been such a secret document, he refused to answer. "We will take your word as a soldier," said Me Labori.
"I will give it," exclaimed the witness,
"that that man was a traitor, and justly
and legally condemned!" Me Labori
excepted to this answer; but it had been
made.
The trial of MM. Zola and Perrenx
ended in the only possible way; both
defendants were found guilty, and sentenced to imprisonment in St. Pélagie
and to an insignificant fine. Zola received one year, Perrenx four months.
The trial had been thoroughly unsatisfactory; it had proved absolutely nothing; it had only established the fact
that it was quite as likely that the bordereau had been written by Esterhazy
as that it had been written by Dreyfus,
for the two men wrote singularly alike.
In consequence, some persons who believed Dreyfus guilty now gave out the
theory that Esterhazy was his accomplice. If Esterhazy had previously had
any reputation for honor or decency, the
trial would have destroyed it; but he had
had none, and he only exemplified that
from him that hath not shall be taken
away even that which he hath. So the
Zola ease affected the Dreyfus question
only by making the enigma more enigmatical; and it did this by introducing
a rival claimant for the bordereau. The
impression left upon me is that, whether
or not Dreyfus had been mixed up in a
treason, Esterhazy almost surely had
been so.
Is Dreyfus guilty? All the facts
known fall very far short of proving guilt.
It does not follow, of course, as an affirmative proposition, that he is innocent. Moreover, there is a vexatious
probability that important facts remain
unknown. From beginning to end the
government has not uttered one word;
it has introduced no evidence in public;
it did not call one witness nor cross-examine one witness in the Zola case; it
has never admitted that the evidence
which has leaked into publicity is all, or
even an important part, of the evidence
in its possession; on the contrary, in
defiance of all pressure, of all curiosity,
of all political peril, it has firmly and
consistently refused to show its hand.
Furthermore, three reputable witnesses,
generals of the army, have asserted most
solemnly, upon their word of honor,
that they knew Dreyfus to be guilty;
that it was not matter of opinion, but of
knowledge; that it was an absolute fact;
and they have said that they based this
statement on their knowledge of things
which had not been published. In corroboration of this, there occurred in the
course of the testimony distinct allusions
to the existence of documents on file at
the War Department, and strictly secret.
No one questioned the integrity of the
officers of the court-martial. Neither
was it comprehensible that the government should have gratuitously pushed
a false charge against an insignificant
captain, or that so cruel a punishment
should have been inflicted, if there were
doubts of his guilt. Nor has it been
shown that he had any enemy likely to
enter upon the perilous task of manufacturing false evidence against him.
On the other hand, the scandalous protection given by the government to the
wretched Esterhazy provokes suspicion
of bad faith. Neither is it easy to explain why the government should not
have permitted the occult leakage, by
which it had been put in so embarrassing
a position, to continue a little longer for
the purpose of extrication.
All these things, however, are speculations only, and the affair remains an
unsolved mystery. But its mystery is
its charm. If we knew, as an absolute
fact, either that Dreyfus is guilty or that
he is innocent, we should forget his case
within twenty-four hours.
1 The reference to Belgium arose from a
story that Dreyfus had made a trip into Belgium, and there had met a secret agent of the Berlin government
2The word is baguettes. Littré says:
"Sorte de petit baton mince et flexible. Dans
quelques pays certains officiers portaient une
baguette quand ils étaient en fonction. . . .Baguette de fusil, de pistolet, baguette qui
sert à presser la charge dans le canon. Plur.
Supplice militaire, qui consiste à frapper avec
une baguette."
Copyright © 2004 by The Atlantic Monthly Group. All rights reserved. The Atlantic Monthly; May 1898; The Dreyfus And Zola Trials; Volume 81, No. 000487; 589-602.
|