CONCLUSION
My Memoirs have come to an end.
I have tried not to be bitter or revengeful, and it is only when I have
had to justify myself or vindicate my daughter that I have mentioned
certain facts, certain documents, or certain names; and I have no doubt
that the reader will agree with me that I have done this only when it
has been absolutely necessary.
* * * * *
I have been asked, time after time, for my theory of the crime. I have
turned that terrible problem over and over in my mind ever since the
awful night of May 30th-31st, 1908, until at times I have well nigh lost
my reason--and I have no theory.
Sometimes, it seems to me that the murderers were models who knew my
husband. Sometimes, I think the crime was committed by persons who were
in still closer touch with my husband and myself, or with one of us.
Sometimes, I fancy that the instigator of the crime was a man who was in
love with me. And finally, I sometimes fancy that the drama must have
taken place as follows:
A man, a suspicious character, a _declassé_, hears or discovers that
there are important political documents in my house. Perhaps he knows my
husband, perhaps he knows me, more or less. He goes to some official--I
say official for the lack of a more adequate word--and tells him he can
secure certain political papers of much importance, papers that would,
if they were divulged, cause much embarrassment, to say the least, to
many prominent persons. He wants money, and possibly demands a document
that seals the bargain as it were. Being a professional malefactor, he
decides to steal something else besides the Faure documents. He knows
that I possess pearls and handsome jewels.... Possibly, he is acquainted
with the mysterious foreign personage, whom my husband befriended, the
Jew, who, perhaps, occasionally attends the performances at the Hebrew
Theatre, and knows that baskets of costumes are left unattended in the
corridor of that theatre. Being a professional malefactor, he is a
coward, and since there may be "some trouble," he decides that he had
better not do the work alone. He and his friends to whom he has merely
spoken of jewels and money--not of documents, for that he reserves for
himself--examine the house; and possibly they are the men whom
neighbours have seen lurking in the Impasse Ronsin. They have secured
cards of invitation to the exhibition of M. Steinheil's works, and one
of them lost his card in the Underground on the day of the crime. That
exhibition made it possible for them to enter the house at a time when
it was crowded, and when, therefore, their movements would not be
observed. Besides, one and possibly two of the gang, know the house
well, already.
Plans are carefully laid. We are in May. They have discovered that the
Steinheils almost invariably spend the week-ends at Bellevue at this
time of the year. It will be quite easy to commit the burglary.
On May 30th one of the gang steals the black gowns from the Hebrew
Theatre early in the evening. Towards midnight the three men, carrying
bags containing their disguises enter the Impasse. Possibly there are
four of them; the fourth remained on watch in the garden. There is also
a red-haired woman with them, probably the mistress of one of the
miscreants, who decided to accompany her "man" because there might be
some trinkets to gather for herself.
They enter the garden--the gate has only to be pushed. They place a
ladder against the wall, but one of them finds that the pantry door is
not locked. They enter, light their lanterns, and don their disguises,
which they have brought _in case_ some one is about who might recognise
one, two, or possibly all three of them. They notice an open cupboard,
and seize the cord they see there. It may be handy to fasten parcels of
stolen goods. Then they stealthily creep upstairs. They probably expect
to find the place empty, though I suppose they knew Couillard slept near
the attic on the third floor, which explains perhaps why they did not go
to the studio, from which they might have been heard. Nor did they
ransack the ground-floor, where besides the kitchen, the offices, the
winter-garden, and the hall, the only rooms were the dining-room, and
the drawing-room. As a rule, people do not keep their valuables in such
places, but rather in their bedrooms.
The first room they see as they reach the first floor, is the one in
which I am sleeping. For one moment, the men are taken aback; they
mistake me for my daughter, in whose room I am resting. I am startled
out of my sleep, and a revolver is pointed at me: "Where is the
money?..." They have come to steal, not to kill. I point to the boudoir,
the door of which is open. They find the money and take it. They return
and ask for the jewels. The chief of the gang, who evidently knows me,
asks for the documents.... Whilst the others enter the room where my
mother is sleeping, the chief ransacks the boudoir, and finds the dummy
parcel of documents, reads the words written on it and is satisfied.
Meanwhile, the others--possibly soon joined by the chief--ransack the
wardrobe in my mother's room. She cries "Meg, Meg," and tries to jump
out of bed.... They pick up some wadding and force it into her mouth.
She is stifled.... M. Steinheil has heard the noise, rushes out of his
bedroom, but as he reaches the threshold of the bath-room, the men, who
have heard him, spring on him, and he is strangled.
They have come to steal, not to kill.... They are anxious to escape. As
they pass through my poor mother's room they fasten a cord round her
neck, to "make sure." Perhaps they did this before murdering my husband.
Hastily, they bind me to my bed, and gag me with wadding. One of the men
had knocked over the inkstand in the boudoir; the end of his gown
dragged through the pool on the floor, and as he came to my room, left a
trail of ink behind him.
The woman wants me to be killed, but the chief of the gang says no. Two
murders are quite enough.... All the same, they give me a heavy blow on
the head. Then they disappear.
The murder is discovered; my husband's card is found in the Underground;
the black gowns are missed....
Is it madness to suppose that if this theory is true, the head of the
gang saw the official who probably was wildly alarmed, and that he said
to him: "If I am arrested, I shall prove by the paper I possess, that I
was ordered to get hold of those documents, and the whole world will say
that the Impasse Ronsin affair was a political crime"?
The police make investigations, in vain; the case is dropped; but I
recklessly take it up again, convinced that the murderers will be found
and resolve to find them. The reader knows the rest.
Possibly, I may even say probably, all this is hopelessly wrong, or
contains only a small element of truth. Who knows?
I have a few conclusions to draw from the unusual and tragic experiences
I have gone through.
I cannot doubt that by now my innocence is established in the eyes of
the reader; I even venture to believe that I may have won his, or her,
sympathy. In this long statement of facts I have all through based my
remarks on documents, and those documents are, of course, undeniable.
But my own vindication and full rehabilitation were not my sole objects.
Others have suffered, and are suffering, as I have suffered; others may
suffer and will suffer so long as certain methods remain in use in
France, so long as certain French prisons remain what they are, and
certain examining magistrates are allowed to deal with prisoners as one
of them did with me; so long as the procedure at trials for murder
remains what it is; lastly, so long as a law making Contempt of Court a
grave offence is not passed in the country from which I come, and which
I love passionately.
I have described Saint-Lazare: the sooner that dilapidated, insanitary
prison, with its poisoned atmosphere--poisoned in every sense of the
term--is pulled down, the better.
I have described my _Instruction_: the sooner such "examinations"
become _public_; the sooner examining magistrates are forbidden to have
preconceived ideas about the guilt of the accused persons who are
brought before them, and the sooner they are forbidden to threaten,
intimidate, bully, and torture them to gain their doubtful ends--the
better.
I have described at length my 353 days in prison: the sooner the French
law realises that it has no right to keep a human being who is
_supposed_ to have or is _suspected_ of having committed a crime, within
the four walls of a cell for months and months, awaiting his or her
trial--the better.
I have described my eleven days' trial--my eleven days' agony--for after
nearly a year in prison a human being is nothing but a lump of suffering
flesh and nerves: the sooner the procedure is altered, the sooner the
judge's interrogatory--inevitably partial and misleading--is
suppressed, the sooner an overwhelmingly more important part is given to
the cross-examination of the prisoner and all the witnesses, and the
sooner the jury at a trial for murder is kept together and prevented, as
it is in England, from having any communication with the outside
world--the better.
I have described the amazing part the French Press--or rather a section
of it--played in the "Impasse Ronsin affair," how it roused Public
Opinion against me, and used the worst conceivable methods of coercion
and intimidation, how it made my life and that of my daughter an
unendurable martyrdom: the sooner the French Press is forbidden to
assume the role of so-called Justice, to publish the most
indiscriminating, arbitrary, imaginary, and damaging articles against
beings who are merely "accused," and this not only before, but actually
during the trial of those beings--the better.
Let the reader ponder, if only for one moment, over these facts, for
instance: day after day, _during my trial_, a number of newspapers
published long articles in which I was clearly and emphatically treated
as a murderess, as a "Red Widow," as a "Black Panther"! Day by day, the
twelve men who were to decide my fate--and indirectly that of my
daughter--went home after the hearings in the Court of Assize: they
discussed the trial, my attitude, the evidence of the witnesses, the
questions asked of me, and the answers I made to those questions, with
their wives and their friends; they went to their cafés, where they
talked and listened; they read the newspapers, and the next morning,
before going into Court they talked and listened again, read the morning
papers, and were once more exposed to influences.
I do not for one moment believe that French jurors allow their
consciences to be misled in matters of life and death--and I have had a
splendid proof of this, since the jury acquitted me--but, is it
stretching probabilities to admit that, among the twelve members of a
jury, one _may_ be influenced by what he hears or reads, and in his turn
influence his colleagues at the solemn pregnant hour, when they are sent
to a room to deliberate over the fate of a human being?
* * * * *
That this book may prove useful to others is my most fervent wish.
I have forgiven my enemies, and I trust those whom I have wronged may
forgive me.
As I write these lines, my daughter is resting near me, lying on a
couch. She sleeps, and her young husband is painting by the window.
There reigns ideal peace and serenity in this room, which overlooks a
great English meadow, so fresh, so green.... It seems almost
unbelievable after the years of maddening turmoil I have lived
through....
My little Marthe will be a mother in a few months' time.... Her child
will one day read these Memoirs. May he, when that time comes,
learn--like all other readers of this book, I trust--to understand my
life, to forgive whatever weaknesses have been mine, and to love his
mother's mother, a woman who has made mistakes in life, but who, God
knows, has paid all too dearly for them.
[Illustration: Plan of the first floor of the house in the Impasse
Ronsin, where the double murder was committed. Dotted line shows
probable movements of the assassins.]
INDEX
Abyssinia, 87, 100
Adam, Paul, 428
Aden, Gulf of, 86
Africa, 86, 97
Alexandre I., 83
Alexandre II., 83
Alexandre III., 69
Algeria, 88
Alsace, 55, 75
Amsterdam, 61
Annecy, 7
Atbara, 90
Atlantic, 86
Aubusson, 58
Augereau, 95
Austerlitz, 39
Auteuil Steeplechase, 127
Automobile Club, 41
Avelan, Admiral, 69
Bach, J. S., 56, 385
Bahr-el-Ghazal, 86, 94
Bailloud, General, 72
Bailly, 426
Bâle, 12, 19
Ballon d'Alsace, 18
Balzac, 39, 52
Baratier, Captain, 94, 97, 100
Barrye, 44
Bartholdi, 33
Bartolozzi, 42
Bayonne, 7, 20, 21, 22, 24
Baudelaire, 62
_Bazar de la Charité_, 69
Beauchamp, Marquis de, 87
Beethoven, 7, 21, 43, 51
Bedloe's Isle, 33
Belfort, 1, 8, 12, 15, 51
Belgium, 86, 470
Berlioz, 39
Bernhardt, Sarah, 40
Bernier, 43
Bernstein, 430
Besançon, 28
Biarritz, 20, 22, 37
Billot, General, 88
Bizet, 39
Blondel, 112, 113, 119, 120
Boer War, 83, 97, 128
Boisdeffre, General, 69
Bonheur, Rosa, 57
Bonnat, 43, 44, 45, 46, 54, 74, 75, 106, 110, 111, 118, 141, 409
Bordelongue, 113
Borghese, Pauline, 41, 70
Borneo, 4, 58
Botticelli, 44
Boucher, 58
Bouchor, 88
Boulanger, General, 98, 430
Bourg Saint-Maurice, 71, 73
Brazzaville, 86
Brazil, 4
Briand, 276
Brillat Savarin, 50
Brinvilliers, Mme. de, 117
Brisson, 87, 91, 92, 99, 103
Brown, Sir Thomas, 267
Brummell, 39
Brunetière, 102
Cairo, 97, 100
Carnot, Lazare, 60, 68
Carnot, President, 23, 60, 68, 71, 81, 82
Casablanca, 130
Casimir-Périer, President, 68, 71
Cavaignac, General, 87, 89
Cayenne, 101
Ceram, 58
_Cercle de l'Union_, 41
Chabrol, Fort, 128, 138
Chalandar, General de, 62
Châlons, 69
Christiani, Baron, 127
_Chambre des Députés_, 76, 87, 98, 99, 101
Chanoine, General, 92, 99
Chardin, 59
Chateaubriand, Vicomte de, 39
Chauchard, 57, 58
Chopin, 20, 39
Claretie, Jules, 430
Clémenceau, 85, 88, 117, 129, 130
C.G.T. (_Confédération Générale du Travail_), 129
Congo, 86
Coppée, François, 43, 48, 49, 50, 102
Connaught, Duke of, 9, 92
Corot, 30
_Corps Legislatif_, 95
Council of the Ten, 114
Cureau, 86
Cuvier, 10, 11, 39
Danton, 426
Daubigny, 30
Declassé, 81, 86, 87, 90, 92, 93, 94, 96, 97, 98, 99, 100, 102, 104,
105, 117
Déroulède, 98, 127, 128
Desmoulins, 426
Devil's Island, 84, 94, 103
Dieulafoy, M. and Mme., 57
Domrémy, 3
Don Quixote, 98
Dreyfus (Captain), 50, 84, 85, 87, 88, 89, 91, 101, 103, 117
Dreyfus Affair, 80, 84, 88, 94, 99, 102, 103, 112, 114, 116, 117, 127
Dufferin, Marquess of, 101
Dujardin-Beaumetz, 60, 400
Dupuy, Charles, 68, 100, 103, 128
Edward VII, 59, 83, 128, 129
Egypt, 86, 92, 100
Eletz, General, 62
Elisabeth, Empress of Austria, 91
Elysée, 37, 73, 74, 75, 76, 78, 79, 92, 99, 102, 106, 107, 110, 111,
113, 117, 121, 130
England, 81, 83, 91, 92, 94, 96, 100, 459, 462
_Entente Cordiale_, 129
Esterhazy, Major, 84, 85, 87, 88
Eugénie, Empress, 40
Faure, President, 18, 19, 70-97, 99-103, 106-127, 131, 137, 149, 234,
250, 342, 357, 404
Faure, Mlle. Lucie, 88, 118
Fashoda, 83, 84, 86, 87, 90-95, 96-100, 104, 105, 117
Fallières, President, 129, 141, 142, 144
Ferry, Jules, 68, 128
Fontainebleau, 57
Fournier, Admiral, 82
Fragonard, 58
France, Anatole, 51, 52
Franco-Prussian War, 8, 80, 92
Franco-Russian Alliance, 69, 80, 82, 96, 120
Freycinet, de, 100
Friedland, 39
Gainsborough, 59
Gambetta, 128
Gautier, Theophile, 39
Gervais, Admiral, 60, 69
Girardin, Marquis de, 103
Glück, 7
Gobelins, 38
Goron, 249-251
Gortschakoff, 83
Gounod, 12, 34, 101
Goya, 59
Grand Guignol, 60
Greuze, 39
Groult, 57-59
Guérin, Jules, 128
Guyana, 84
Hague, the, 61
Hannibal, 4
Hanotaux, 70, 74, 87, 96
Hâvre, 81, 88
Haydn, 85
Henner, 54-56
Henry, Colonel, 84, 89, 91
Heredia, J. M. de, 49
Holland, 61, 470
Hoppner, 59
Hugo, Victor, 39
India, 97
Italy, 28, 470
_Institut_, 33, 52
Janssen, 133
Japy, General, 62, 72
Jaurès, 117
Jena, 39
Jibuti, 100
Joan of Arc, 3
Jockey Club, 40
_Journal Officiel_, 120
Kant, 134
Kapurthala, 70
Khartum, 90-94, 97
Kilimanjaro, 4
Kitchener, Sir Herbert, 90, 91, 93, 100
Kronstadt, 60, 69, 72, 102
Lafitte, 40
Laferrière, 88
La Fontaine, 39
Lalique, 106, 145
Lamy, Major, 106, 107
Lannes, Marechal, 39
La Paz, 61
La Tour, 58
La Traversette, 71, 72
Lawrence, 59
Lépine, 88
Lesseps, F. de, 34
Le Gall, 106, 110, 112, 113
Légion d'Honneur, 88
Liotard, 86, 102
Liszt, 10
Lockroy, 88, 96
London County Council, 129
Longchamps, 70
Lorraine, 55
Loti, Pierre, 52, 53
Loubet, President, 128, 129
Louis-Philippe, 13, 103
Louvre, Museum, 59
Lucretia Borgia, 117
Lucullus, 5
Lulli, 7
_L'Aurore_, 85, 89
_L'Echo de Paris_, 214, 226, 231, 234, 274, 279, 370
_L'Eclair_, 323
_Le Figaro_, 430
_Le Gaulois_, 269, 273
_L'Intransigeant_, 95
_Le Journal_, 466
_Le Petit Journal_, 273
_Le Petit Parisien_, 247
_La Presse_, 405
_Paris-Journal_, 300
_Le Temps_, 88, 93, 273, 412
_Le Matin_, 189, 217, 231-235, 239-241, 256, 259-261, 274, 284-286, 300,
301, 310, 316, 317, 318-326, 343, 415
Madagascar, 81
Madrid, 60
Maeterlinck, 66
Marchand, Major, 86, 87, 90, 91, 93, 94, 96, 97, 100-102
Mars, Mlle., 39, 40
Massenet, 43, 47, 48, 73, 101, 409
Mediterranean, 97
Meissonier, 21, 25, 30, 33
Méline, 74, 84, 87, 88
Menelik, Emperor, 87
Mercier, General, 88
Metternich, Prince, 104
Metternich, Princess, 40
Meudon Observatory, 132
Mexico, 40
Michelangelo, 44
Molière, 52
Monaco, 236
Monod, 12
Monson, Sir Edmund, 93, 94, 98-101
Montmartre, 39, 46
Mont Valerien, 89
Morgue, 52
Morny, Duc de, 40, 41, 430
Morocco, 102, 105
Moscow, 5, 28
Mozart, 7, 85
Mulhausen, 18, 24
Muravieff, Count, 96, 97
Mürger, 39
Musset, A. de, 39
Napoleon I., 3, 4, 11, 13, 16, 70, 75, 76, 83, 235
Napoleon III., 40, 41, 83, 430
Nancy, 12
Nattier, 59
Négrier, General de, 92
New York, 33
Nicholas II. (Czar), 67, 72, 102, 128
Niger, 104
Nile, 86, 91, 92, 98, 100, 104
Notre Dame (Paris), 33, 61
_Nouveau Cercle_, 41
Nubar Pasha, 92
Offenbach, 39, 56
Omdurman, 90, 91
Opéra, 37, 69, 73
Opéra Comique, 48, 101
Oppert, Julius, 56
Orinoco, 4
Orleans, Duke of, 88, 93, 96, 103
Orsay, d', 38, 40
Pacific, 58
Païva, La, 40
Panama, 68, 127
Pascal, 20, 52
Pasteur, 34
_Patrie Française_, League, 50, 102
Pays, Mme., 87
Père Lachaise, 39
Peterhof, 72
Petit Saint Bernard, 71
Peytral, 87
Picquart, Colonel, 84, 85, 93
Popocatapetl, 4
Poubelle, 60
Pressensé, de, 88
_Punch_, 97
Puvis de Chavannes, 14
Pyrenees, 46
Rachel, Mlle., 40
Racine, 7
Raeburn, 59
Raffet, 3
Rambert, Eugène, 61
Rameau, 7
Red Sea, 86
Récamier, Mme., 39
Reinach, J., 117
Roland, Mme., 426
Rennes, 103
Renan, 39, 43
_Revue des Deux Mondes_, 102
Reyer, 48, 49
Renals, Sir Joseph, 69
Reynolds, 59
Ribot, 68, 87
Robert, Hubert, 59
Rochefort, 95, 430, 431
Rodin, 44
Roget, General, 127
Rostand, E., 52
Roujon, 75
Ruskin, 23
Russia, 6, 28, 60, 69, 72, 94, 96, 98
Salisbury, Lord, 92, 104
Salon, 74
Sarrien, 87, 91
Sasse, Marie, 40
Saut du Doubs, 18
Savoy, 71-73
Sainte Chapelle, 23, 343
Saint Cloud, 34, 40
Saint Jean de Luz, 46
Saint Petersburg, 69, 72, 96, 120
Saint Vincent de Paul, 43
Scheurer Kestner, 84
Sem, 430
Senegal, 86
Sinaïa, 61
Secrétan, 61
Sobat, 100
Strasburg, 23, 33
Strauss, Richard, 66
Sudan, 90, 92
Sueh, 86
Suez Canal, 34
Sylva, Carmen, 61
Talleyrand, 40, 41, 93, 104
Tangiers, 105
Tenniel, Sir John, 97
Thiers, 13, 39
Tornielli, 127
Tuileries, 40
Turner, 59
Ubanghi, Upper, 86
Urusoff, Prince, 102
Venice, 114
Verlaine, 374
Versailles, 68, 127
Victor, Prince Napoleon, 96, 103
Victoria, Queen, 34, 69, 76, 92
Viollet, le Duc, 6
Voguë, de, 52
Voltaire, 52
Wadi-Halfa, 86
Wagner, 7
Waldeck-Rousseau, 128
Waterloo, 76
Watteau, 58
Wattignies, 68
Witte, Count, 94
Zola, 50-52, 85, 87, 88
Zurlinden, General, 90-92
The following changes/corrections have been made in the text: (note of
etext transcriber)
Louise-Philippe=>Louis-Philippe
huband=>husband
the Félix Faure=>then Félix Faure
politicans=>politicians
to be left to the three decisions=>to be left to the three divisions
if he can obtain what we wants otherwise=>if he can obtain what he wants
otherwise
abandoned, give up=>abandoned, given up
Then caressingly turing to her husband=>Then caressingly turning to her
husband
Sisters go to evening payer=>Sisters go to evening prayer
iron gate though which=>iron gate through which
a bientôt=>à bientôt
Your cousin Meissonnier=>Your cousin Meissonier