* * * * *
_26 January, 1898._
My dear Lucie:
In the last letters that I wrote to you I told you what I had done; to
whom I had entrusted our fate, the fate of our children; what appeals I
had sent forth. It is needless to tell you with what anxiety I am
awaiting an answer; how heavy the moments have become to me. But my
thoughts, day and night, yearn so toward you, toward our children, that
I want to write to you again to give you the counsels which I ought to
give you.
I have read and re-read all of your letters, and the letters from home,
and I believe that for a long time we have been living in a
misconception of facts; this misunderstanding comes from different
causes (your letters were often enigmas to me)--the absolute secrecy in
which I live, the state of my brain, the blows that have been struck me
without my understanding them, acts of stupidity that may also have been
committed.
But this is the situation as I understand it, and I think that I am not
far from the truth. I believe that General de Boisdeffre has never been
averse to rendering us justice. We, deeply wounded, ask him to give us
light upon this mystery. It has been no more in his power to give us
light than it was in ours to procure it for ourselves; it will shine out
in a future that no one can foresee.
Some minds have probably been soured; it may be that awkwardnesses have
been committed, I cannot tell; all this has envenomed a situation
already so atrocious. We must go back to the beginning, and raise
ourselves above all our sufferings in order that we may look clearly
into our situation.
Well, I, who have been for more than three years the greatest victim,
the victim of everything and of every one; I who am here, almost dying
of agony, I have just given you the counsels of prudence, of calmness,
that I think I ought to give you, oh, without abandoning any of my
rights, without weakness, but also without boasting.
As I have told you, it has not been in the power of General de
Boisdeffre any more than it has been in your power to throw light upon
this mystery; it will shine in a future that no one can foresee.
Therefore I have simply asked General de Boisdeffre for my
rehabilitation; to put an end to our appalling martyrdom, for it is
inadmissible that you should undergo such torture, that our children
should grow up dishonored by a crime that I could never have committed.
I await the answer to my letters with all the strength that is left to
me. I count the hours, I almost count the minutes.
I do not know if his answer will reach me soon; I know still less how I
keep alive, so extreme is my cerebral and nervous exhaustion; but if I
should succumb before that time comes, if I should faint under the
atrocious burden that I have borne so long, I leave it to you, as your
absolute duty, to go yourself to General de Boisdeffre, and, after the
letters which I wrote to him, the desire which, I am sure of it, is in
the bottom of his heart to grant us rehabilitation, when you (_sic_)
will have realized that the discovery of the truth is a task that will
take a long time, that it is impossible to foresee when it will be
accomplished, I have no doubt that he will grant you, immediately, a new
trial; that he will at once put an end to a situation as atrocious for
you as it is for our children. I hope, too, that over my grave he will
bear witness not only to the loyalty of my past conduct, but to the
absolute loyalty of my conduct for the last three years, when, under all
my sufferings, under all my tortures, I have never forgotten what I have
been--a soldier, loyal and devoted to his country. I have accepted all,
I have undergone all with closed lips. I do not boast of it, for I have
done only my duty, nothing but my duty.
I leave you with regret, for my thoughts are with you, with our
children, night and day; for this thought of you is all that keeps me
yet alive, and I should like to come and talk like this at every instant
of my long days and my long, sleepless nights.
I can only repeat this wish: it is that all this sorrow may have at last
an end, that this infernal torture of all the minutes may soon be over;
but if you do as I have told you, as it is your duty to do, since I
command it, I have no doubt that you shall come to see the end of your
appalling martyrdom, the martyrdom of our children.
I embrace you, as I love you, with all the power of my love; I embrace
also our dear and adored children.
Your devoted
ALFRED.
Kisses to your dear parents, to all.
* * * * *
_4 February, 1898._
Dear Lucie:
I have nothing to add to the numerous letters that I have written to you
during the past two months; all this medley of confusion may be summed
up in a few words: I have appealed to the high justice of the President
of the Republic, to that of the Government, in asking for a new trial,
for the life of our children, for the end of this appalling martyrdom.
I have made an appeal to the loyalty of the men who caused me to be
condemned, to bring about this new trial. I am waiting feverishly, but
with confidence, to learn that at last our terrible suffering is to
have an end.