Do not come until you are completely recovered and in excellent health.
Our children have need of you.
* * * * *
_23 January, 1895._
My Darling:
I receive your letters every day. As yet they have given me none from
any member of the family, and, on my side, I have not yet received the
authorization to write to them. I have written to you every day since
Saturday. I hope that you have received all my letters.
You must not be astonished, my darling, at the scene of La Rochelle. I
find it perfectly natural. What astonishes me is that no one has yet
been found to come forward and tell what our families really
are--families whose names are synonymous with loyalty and honor. Ah,
human cowardice, I have measured its length and breadth in these sad,
dark days!
When I think of what I was but a few months ago, and when I compare it
with my miserable situation to-day, I confess that my heart faints, that
I give way to ferocious outbreaks against the injustice of my lot. Truly
I am the victim of the most hideous error of our century. At times my
reason refuses to believe it; it seems to me that I am the dupe of a
terrible hallucination, that it will all vanish; ... but, alas! the
reality is all around me.
Why did not we all die before the beginning of this tragedy? Truly it
would have been preferable. And now we have not the right to die, not
one of us has that right. We must live to cleanse our name of the stain
with which it has been sullied. My conviction is absolute; I am sure
that sooner or later the light will shine out. It is impossible in an
age like ours that search shall not result in the discovery of the one
who is really guilty; but what shall I be, mentally and physically, at
that time? I believe that life will have no more attraction for me, and
if I cling to it, it will be for your sake, my dear heart, whose
devotion has been heroic through all these terrible hours--for you and
for my dear children, to whom I wish to restore their honorable name.
But whatever may come, I am sure that history will place things in their
true position. There will be in our dear country of France, so easily
excited, but so generous to innocent sufferers, some man honest and
courageous enough to try to find the truth.
And I, my darling, what can I say to you? That my heart is broken; at
least they will have accomplished that. But be tranquil; until my last
breath I shall stand firm. I will not weaken, nor bow my head.
My honor is equal to that of any man on the earth. I demand justice; you
also must demand it. This is all the mercy that I beg for. I ask for
nothing but the truth--the whole truth.
And this truth, if we pursue it steadfastly, we shall have at last; it
is impossible that such an error can rest unexposed.
When I look back, my sufferings are so appalling that I am seized by
terrible nervous shocks. I look forward always with the hope that soon
all will be made clear and that they will give me back my honor--the
thing I hold dearest in this world.
May God and justice grant that it may be soon! Truly I have suffered
enough. We all have suffered enough.
I hope that you always take good care of your health. You need, my
darling, all your physical strength to be able to bear the moral
tortures that are inflicted upon you.
How are all the members of our two families? Give me news of them, since
I cannot hear directly from them.
Kiss our two darlings for me--my love to all the family.