The Judge.--“No.”
M. Labori.--“You are mistaken so far as I am concerned. General Mercier
has not gone far enough. I will not sit down until a certain matter has
been cleared up. The statement of General Mercier must be made clear,
for here I am in the centre of my case.”
The Judge.--“No, you are not in the centre of your case. You are away
from it. You are the lawyer of your client, and you fill the _rôle_ of
the presiding judge. I point out to you that you are encroaching on the
Dreyfus case.”
M. Labori.--“The question is whether General Mercier, who has uttered
certain words, answered one question or another. It is regrettable that
General Mercier should come here to say that a man has been legally
condemned. It is regrettable, because he cannot be examined as to the
reasons for his belief. As to his belief, I knew what it was, and I
knew very well that, if I were to ask him for it, he would proclaim it
loudly. So I am not surprised. But, when I asked General Mercier: ‘Is
it true that a secret document was introduced into the Dreyfus case in
1894?’ he replied: ‘I will not answer’.”
The Judge.--“And he did well.”
M. Labori.--“Then I asked General Mercier: ‘Have you anywhere said so?’
He interrupted me not to answer my first question, but to say: ‘It is
not true that I have so stated.’ That does not interest me. It is the
first point that interests me, and on that, in spite of all incidents
and all emotions, General Mercier is dumb.”
The former minister of war then stepped down, and the former minister
of justice, M. Trarieux, took the stand.
_Testimony of M. Trarieux._
His deposition was as follows:
“I did not follow the details of the Dreyfus trial of 1894. But in
1895 and 1896 serious matters leaked out that much disturbed my mind.
The first concerned the existence of secret documents that were said
to have played a part. Much more light has been thrown upon that
matter since, but I was profoundly agitated by what was said even
then. If other documents than those communicated to the accused and
his counsel had indeed been submitted to the judges and had influenced
their decisions, there was, at least in my opinion, no State reason
that could justify it. The first principle and the essential basis of
our penal law is that an accused person cannot appear before justice
without knowing of what he is accused and concerning what he is to be
called upon for an explanation. Nevertheless, gentlemen, I was not
certain of the fact, and so I kept the secret to myself. Afterward my
trouble was increased by the reading of the testimony of one of the
experts in the Dreyfus case, which chance had placed in my hands. Thus
I became acquainted with the document that determined the condemnation,
and the _bordereau_ of which so much has been said. Resemblances
in the details of certain letters were pointed out; but a serious
observation was made, which I found later in the indictment when the
indictment was made public. It was admitted that the _bordereau_ showed
important differences from the documents with which it was compared.
To explain these differences, it was said that undoubtedly they were
intentional on the part of Dreyfus. I was much struck by this remark.
It was the observation of a moralist rather than the affirmation of
an expert; so I could reason with these gentlemen. I asked myself if
their explanations were not in a certain measure--let us say in a large
measure--shockingly against the probabilities. I asked myself if it was
possible that a person, fearing that he might be compromised by his
handwriting, and wishing to disguise it, had been so stupid as not to
make it absolutely unrecognizable; if it was possible, in short, that
this condemned man would have been so stupid, in spite of his intention
to disarm suspicion, as to leave apparent traces of similarity in
the document. I confess, gentlemen, I was infinitely more struck
by the dissimilarities that could not be explained than by certain
resemblances that are to be found in documents of this sort. I kept my
secret, gentlemen, but my agitation increased. Serene persons about
me asked: ‘Why do you concern yourself with the matter?’ I could not
help it. It is the honor of a land of liberty to concern itself with
questions of justice, for, if a people wishes to be free, it must first
of all be just. It is justice that guarantees liberty to all.
“But, after M. Scheurer-Kestner’s interpellation, I asked him to
relieve my conscience, and to tell me all that he knew. His statements
tore the veil from my eyes. He enabled me to properly compare
Esterhazy’s writing with that of the _bordereau_. It was no longer a
matter of dissimilarities to explain; it was evidence itself; and I
found no difference that was astonishing. Since then I have repeated
the comparison many times, not for myself and alone, but with the aid
of friends. Never have I found a dissenting voice. All who have been
willing to examine have been impressed by the same evidence, and I may
say now, anticipating the chronological order of facts, that later the
experts themselves who contributed to the preparation of the Esterhazy
case had to recognize in it a large measure, although they concluded
that the _bordereau_ is not the material work of Major Esterhazy.
As everybody knows, they have affirmed that the _bordereau_ bears a
striking resemblance to Major Esterhazy’s writing. Only they set up the
hypothesis that this writing must be the work of a skilful forger. At
any rate, these conclusions, made by the experts as well as by myself,
absolutely overturned the conclusions of 1894. M. Scheurer-Kestner
placed in my hands the correspondence between Lieutenant-Colonel
Picquart and his superior, General Gonse, adding a series of other
letters--thirteen, if I am not mistaken--that passed between the
same persons after the departure of Lieutenant-Colonel Picquart from
the war department. I have read them and reread them, and have often
reviewed them since in my mind. They left me in no doubt, but I must
declare in what measure they enlightened me. I did not find in them
certain proof that General Gonse had arrived at a fixed decision to
open a revision of the Dreyfus case at a certain date, but I did find
in them indisputable proof that this officer admitted the possibility
of revision, and gave instructions for its preparation, covering all
the acts of Lieutenant-Colonel Picquart with his entire approbation.
General Gonse did not say to his subordinate: ‘You are mistaken; you
know it well; you have a secret file in your hands.’ He did not say to
him: ‘Calm yourself; this is madness.’ No. He said: ‘Act with prudence.
No irreparable steps. Do not proceed recklessly. The question is one of
the highest gravity. You must conduct all your negotiations with the
greatest circumspection.’ Then, on the question of expert examination,
he added. ‘To submit the question to experts at this moment is to mix
up third parties with the examination of the affair, under unfavorable
conditions. I advise other steps.’ And he indicated these. He called
attention notably to the necessity of ascertaining under what
conditions the documents enumerated in the _bordereau_ could have been
communicated by the man who was suspected of being its author, and then
the letter finished with recommendations of prudence and the expression
of affectionate sentiments.
“M. Picquart’s reply laid down the question of revision in terms as
express as possible. It was not possible, indeed, to speak in clearer
and more prudent language. What did General Gonse reply? His reply was
formal. He said that, in spite of the disturbing information contained
in the letter, he still advised most careful procedure. But he added
a declaration which to me is absolutely decisive concerning his state
of mind: ‘It is not a question, of course, of stopping the light. It
is a question of preparing the conditions under which the truth may be
manifested.’ That was the language of a man who had not in his hands
certain proof of the treason of Dreyfus. It was the language of a man
whose conscience and heart were disturbed by the fears that had already
invaded the mind of Colonel Picquart, and that with the latter had
become absolute convictions.
“That settled the matter for me, and, when they talk of proof of
judicial error, I say that it is almost absolutely acquired. Similarity
of handwritings; proof that there was no certain demonstration of
the guilt of Dreyfus; demonstration that our military officers
were familiar with the facts, and had given their approval to
investigations,--all these circumstances removed from my mind the last
vestige of doubt.
“General Gonse returned from Cormeilles-en-Parisis on September
15, the day after the letter of the 14th written to him by Colonel
Picquart. The same day ‘L’Eclair’ published an article in which it was
said, I believe, that all veils must be torn off. ‘L’Eclair’ published
a document which until then had remained a secret, and which, it
said, had been produced at the deliberations of the council of war
without the knowledge of Dreyfus or his counsel. This document, said
‘L’Eclair,’ had determined the condemnation. It was a letter exchanged
between the military _attachés_ of two embassies, at the foot of which
were these words: ‘That animal D---- is really becoming too exacting.’
But ‘L’Eclair’ published it as follows: ‘That animal Dreyfus is really
becoming too exacting.’ This, M. Scheurer-Kestner told me, was like
a train of powder through the whole press. A formidable movement of
opinion rose against the few persons who could still speak of what had
happened in 1894. The clear proof of guilt had been found. At last
timid consciences could hope; there was no longer anything to fear.
Dreyfus was really a traitor, since his relations with _attachés_ of a
foreign embassy were confessed by a foreign _attaché_ himself.
“Gentlemen, who could have communicated this document? A few days
later another article was published in ‘Le Matin,’ which reproduced
the _bordereau_ and some bits of the writing of Dreyfus. Violent
discussions ensued. There was a renewal of the report of attempts at
escape. The government was called on to keep careful guard, and an
interpellation was announced by deputy Castelin, who had collected
these various rumors and intended to ask the government for an
explanation as soon as the chamber should reconvene. Then, gentlemen,
came a radical change in the dispositions of the minister of war.
Not only was Colonel Picquart requested to cool his ardor, but it
was deemed necessary to send him away from the war department. It
was announced that there would be no resistance to M. Castelin’s
interpellation. It was deemed impossible to make head against such a
storm. And so, on the 14th, two days before the interpellation, Colonel
Picquart was sent away from the department on a mission, in the course
of which he finally reached Tunis. That is the explanation of this
sudden about-face.
“But who had communicated the document? Not Colonel Picquart. That
was impossible, for he was after a revision of the Dreyfus case,
and this communication was clearly made by some one opposed to such
revision. The communication to ‘L’Eclair’ was not made out of kindness
for Dreyfus; it was a final blow at the condemned man, the last word
that was to arch his tomb. It could not have been Dreyfus’s counsel,
for his counsel did not know the document. It could not have been the
experts, for they had never had it in their hands. No journalist could
have obtained it, except from some one in a position to be acquainted
with it. The persons in such a position were not numerous. There were
six, or eight, or ten, in the department who had it at their disposal.
There was certainly one of these, perhaps several, whose interest
it was to thwart Colonel Picquart, and who, to this end committed
this indiscretion, this criminal indiscretion, for a crime had to be
committed in order to communicate the document under the circumstances
in which it was reproduced by the newspaper. This newspaper, in fact,
had printed the passage in the terms that I have just stated, but it
is now known that the document did not say ‘That animal Dreyfus.’ It
said ‘That animal D....’ It had been necessary to alter the document
in order to make it more decisive. Evidently some one was bent on
laying a trap for Colonel Picquart, bent on threatening him in order
to make the production of his testimony impossible; some one wanted
to close his mouth, and threatened to ruin him if he dared to speak.
Colonel Picquart desired an investigation to determine the author, or
authors, of the plots against him, and, indeed, if they had succeeded
in discovering the guilty party, the whole case might have been cleared
up. On December 18, 1897, I went to the minister of justice to lay the
facts before him, finding, moreover, that he was not at all familiar
with the situation. He promised to consult the prime minister. On
December 23 he notified me that the prime minister had had an interview
with the minister of war, who had promised to send to Colonel Picquart
for the text of the dispatches, and compare them with the writing of an
officer whom Colonel Picquart suspected. He told me that the minister
of war had promised to examine these writings himself, and that later
he would let me know the result. This he did on the 28th. The answer
of the minister of war was that he did not consider Colonel Picquart’s
suspicions well founded, and that he did not see sufficient similarity
in the handwritings to warrant suspicion. I have not to inquire,
gentlemen, whether he was mistaken; it is too delicate a question to
be examined by me. But it is certain that, though the author of these
documents could not be designated with certainty, a crime had been
three times repeated in the Speranza letter of 1896 and in the two
dispatches of 1897. So I expected that a supplementary investigation
would be undertaken. But nothing of the kind. There was silence for
several days, and then in despair Colonel Picquart decided to lodge
with the public prosecutor on January 4, 1898, a formal complaint that
these four documents were forged. Another week went by, and nothing was
done. Major Ravary continued to think that these facts did not call for
the examination solicited. Undoubtedly they had not, in his eyes, the
importance that Colonel Picquart attached to them, and so on January
10, six days later, the council of war met, and, before it, was read
the indictment with which you are familiar,--an indictment, astounding
to say, which made not the slightest allusion to the facts which
Colonel Picquart considered so serious.
“It is certain--Major Esterhazy confesses it--that a document was
withdrawn from the war department,--the document which he says was
delivered to him by a veiled lady. Who took away that document? What
was done in the course of investigation to find out who took it
away? Nothing. I pointed out to the minister of war that letters and
dispatches had been sent to Colonel Picquart in order to close his
mouth, telling him not to come back from Tunis, and that his future
would be destroyed, if he should come back. Who sent these letters and
dispatches? No attempt has been made to find out.
“In conclusion, I have but a single word to say. After my participation
in this affair I desired to attend the hearing before the council of
war to see what would take place there. I mingled with the public,
and, not as former minister of justice or as a senator, but as a
simple citizen, I was present at the trial. I was conscious from the
first moment that I was not witnessing an ordinary trial, but a trial
like no other. In the first place I heard read a declaration from
General Saussier that he had ordered this matter carried before the
council of war in order to clear up obscurities which, in his opinion,
could be cleared up only by an open debate. By this I was somewhat
reassured, for to have an open debate was in itself a great deal. Now,
gentlemen, there immediately appeared a lawyer for Mme. Dreyfus and her
children, and another for the complainant. They asked to be accepted
as participants in the trial. I knew that there were precedents for
this, notably in the Kraemer case at Lyons; Dalloz and other authors
say that councils of war can admit such participation. But in this case
it was denied. Then came the reading of the indictment. This indictment
was a plea for the accused, and a fierce attack upon his accusers. As
soon as the reporter opened his mouth, it was apparent that he was not
present as an accuser, but as the foremost defender of the accused.
Then I asked myself: ‘Where, then, is the open debate called for by
General Saussier?’ Up to the moment when the closing of the doors made
it impossible for me to hear more of the trial, I saw nothing but a
semblance of an open debate. And now, gentlemen, I have told you all
that I know, all that I have seen, all that I can say.”
At this point an adjournment was taken for the day.