On September 24, 1898, Dreyfus addressed a piteous letter to the
Governor of French Guiana, saying that all his appeals had met with no
response. It was at this period that he lost all hope. In early November
he received a letter from his wife which, although giving not the
slightest intimation of the stirring events in Paris, was in cheerful
tone. He thought that it referred to his letter of September 24, and at
once became encouraged. After more than two months’ silence he wrote to
her again. He spoke of the good news contained in his wife’s letter,
repeated that he was waiting the answer to his petition with confidence,
and then he said:
“So when you receive this letter everything will, I think, be
finished, and your happiness will be complete. But in these days of
relief and felicity which will follow so many days of pain and
suffering, I would that my thought, my heart, all that is living in
me, which has not left you during those four terrible years, may
again reach you, to add, if possible, to your joy until we can at
least resume that happy and quiet life to which your natural
qualities entitled you, and which you now deserved more than ever
owing to the greatness of your soul, to the nobility of your
character, to all the most beautiful qualities which a woman can
display under such tragic circumstances--qualities which suffering
has only developed, and which have proved to me that there was no
ideal here below to which a woman’s soul could not rise, and which
she could not surpass. It is in our mutual affection, in that of
our dear and beloved children, in the satisfaction of our
consciences, and in the feeling that we have done our duty, that we
shall forget our long trials. I do not insist. Such emotion is
great. I tremble at it; but it is lovely, as it elevates. So until
the decisive news of my rehabilitation arrives I am going to live
more than ever in thought with you, with all, sharing your common
joy.”
* * * * *
At length Dreyfus was officially informed of the first decision of the
Court of Cassation. Writing to his wife on November 25, he said:
“My dear Lucie:
“In the middle of the month I was told that the petition for the
revision of my judgment had been declared acceptable by the Court
of Cassation, and was invited to produce my means of defence. I
took the necessary measures immediately. My requests were at once
transmitted to Paris, and you must have been informed of this some
days ago. Events must therefore be moving rapidly. In thought I am
night and day, as always, with you, with our children, with all,
sharing our joy at seeing the end of this fearful drama approaching
rapidly. Words become powerless to describe such deep emotions....
According to information which I sent you in the last mail, all
will be over in the course of December. Therefore, when these lines
reach you I shall be almost on the point of starting for France.”
Here are touching passages from his letter of December 26. After telling
his “_chère et bonne_ Lucie”--he almost invariably addresses her
thus--that, with the exception of the telegram, to which he at once
replied, he had not heard from her for two months until he got a letter
a few days ago, he went on to explain that if he had for a moment closed
his correspondence, this was because he was awaiting the reply to his
petition for the revision of his judgment, and should only have repeated
himself:
“If my voice had ceased to make itself heard, this would have been
because it had forever died away. If I have lived, it has been for
my honor, which is my property and the patrimony of our children;
it has been for my duty, which I have done everywhere and always;
and as it must ever be accomplished when a man has right and
justice on his side, without fear of anything or of anybody. When
one has behind one a past devoted to duty, a life devoted to honor,
when one has never known but one language, that of truth, one is
strong, I assure you, and atrocious though fate may have been, one
must have a soul lofty enough to dominate it until it bows before
one. Let us, therefore, await with confidence the decision of the
Supreme Court, as we await with confidence the decision of the new
judges before whom this decision will send me. At the same time as
your letter I have received a copy of the petition for revision,
and of the decree of the Court of Cassation, declaring it
acceptable. I read with wonderful emotion the terms of your
petition, in which you expressed admirably, as I had already done
in mine, the feelings by which I am animated in asking that an end
shall be put to the punishment of an innocent man--I may add to
that, of a noble woman, of her children, of two families, of an
innocent man who had always been a loyal soldier, who has not
ceased, even in the midst of the horrible sufferings of unmerited
chastisement, to declare his love for his native land.”
* * * * *
Always confident in the eventual result, Dreyfus wrote on February 8,
1899:
“Although I think, as I told you, that the end of our horrible
martyrdom is nigh, what does it matter if there is a little delay?
The object is everything, and until the day when I can clasp you in
my arms I would have you know my thoughts, which never leave you,
which have watched night and day over you and our children.
Besides, the letter which I wrote to you on December 26 or 27 was
too deep, too adequate an expression of my thoughts, of my
invincible will, and of my feelings, for me to add a single word to
it.”
* * * * *
Pending the receipt of the news of his rehabilitation, he sends his love
to all their relatives. The latest letter, dated February 25, runs thus:
“My dear and good Lucie:
“A few lines, as I can only repeat myself, that you may still hear
the same words of firmness and dignity until the day when I am
informed of the end of this terrible judicial drama. I can well
imagine, as you tell me so yourself, what joy you feel in reading
my letters. I am sure that it is equal to my pleasure in perusing
yours. It is a bit of one which reaches the other, pending the
blessed moment when we are at last reunited. My thoughts, which
have never left you a moment, which have watched night and day over
you and our children, are always with you. I very often speak
mentally to you, but they are always the same ideas and feelings of
which I also find the echo in your letters, as all this is common
to us since these same thoughts and sentiments are the common
property, the innate basis of all loyal souls and of all honest
characters. It is with a reassured and confident mind that I must
leave to the high authority of the Court the care of the
accomplishment of its noble work of supreme justice. Pending the
news of my rehabilitation, I embrace you with all my strength, with
all my soul, as I love you and our dear and adored children.
Your devoted
“ALFRED.”
* * * * *
It was soon after this he wrote the following letter to his little son:
“My dear Pierre:
“I have received your nice little letter. You wish me to write to
you. I shall soon do better; I shall soon press you in my arms.
Pending this good and sweet moment you will embrace your mamma for
me, as well as grandpapa, grandma, little Jeanne, the uncles and
aunts, all, in fact. Hearty kisses to you and little Jeanne, from
your affectionate father.