“Now for the two points in the testimony of Major Lauth that require an answer. You remember that Major Lauth explained to you that Colonel Picquart at a certain moment asked him if he recognized the handwriting of the dispatch. Well, gentlemen, that is not denied. I have explained to you that the dispatch gained importance only from its source. Obviously then, this importance was enhanced, if that evidence of its origin which consisted in its discovery in the packages brought by the agents was confirmed by the further discovery of an identity between the writing of the dispatch and that of a certain person. One of the witnesses here has explained that generally it is not the chief of the information service, who, in spying cases, is summoned as a witness before the council of war, but one of his subordinates. Thus, in 1894, if I am well informed, Colonel Sandherr did not testify, but one of his subordinates. And it is very probable, that, if the prosecution had continued in the way in which Colonel Picquart expected, Major Lauth would have been called upon to testify. So Colonel Picquart asked Major Lauth whether he knows the writing or not. Major Lauth answered: ‘No.’ And there the matter rested, very naturally. Consequently, there is nothing here of which we have to take note. There remains but one question, upon which it may be said that two officers are squarely in contradiction,—the question of the post-office stamps, which, it is said, Colonel Picquart desired to have placed upon the dispatch. Exactly, what does Major Lauth say? He says that Colonel Picquart said to him: ‘Do you think the post-office would put a stamp on this?’ Now, were those words uttered, gentlemen? For my part, I consider Major Lauth a very honest man, and, consequently I cannot consider his statement unworthy of belief. But what I know well is that, if these words were really spoken—and they may well not have been, because sometimes, when one has a certain idea, this idea, especially in its later developments, makes one hear things that he really did not hear, and that were never said [Murmurs of protest]. I am not addressing people who do not understand that here I am explaining mental operations with which everybody is familiar, and that I do not go at all outside the bounds of probability. But, admitting that these words were uttered, it is sufficient for me to say that, even then, they have absolutely no significance.
“We come now to the correspondence with General Gonse, which shows that Colonel Picquart, in all his proceedings, was followed, authorized, and encouraged by his superiors. You recall the constant interest that General Gonse has taken in this trial. The purpose of that interest was to make it known that he was familiar with the operations of Colonel Picquart in the Esterhazy case, but that he has steadily refused to examine and consider the Dreyfus case. I asked General Gonse how he explained this passage in his first letter:
To the continuation of the inquiry from the standpoint of the handwritings there is the grave objection that it compels us to take new people into our confidence under bad conditions, and it seems to me better to wait until we are more firmly settled in our opinions, before going further in this rather delicate path.
“The investigation, then, had been begun, and was now to be abandoned, not because it would yield uncertain results, but because it would necessitate the consultation of new experts and the taking of third persons into confidence. The meaning of this is that it was the bordereau that was in question; that the bordereau had left its closet; that consequently the Dreyfus case was open; and that it was with full knowledge of this that General Gonse encouraged Colonel Picquart, to whom he wrote in the most kindly terms: ‘I shake your hand most affectionately, my dear Picquart.’ And then, gentlemen, you remember that admirable letter from Colonel Picquart, in which he seems to have foreseen all the unfortunate events of which this country is now a victim.
I believe that I have done all that was necessary to give ourselves the opportunity of initiative. If too much time is lost, that initiative will be taken by others, which, to say nothing of higher considerations, will not leave us in a pleasant position.... There will be a sad and useless crisis, which we could avoid by doing justice in season.
“And General Gonse replies:
At the point at which you have arrived in your investigation there is no question, of course, of avoiding the light, but we must ascertain what course should be taken in order to arrive at a manifestation of the truth.
“Consequently, you see, the light is not to be stopped. General Gonse says in so many words that there is no question of avoiding it. Now, what do these letters prove? In the presence of reasonable men like yourselves, it is not necessary to ask things to prove more than they do prove, but it is necessary to ask them to prove all that they prove. I will not say that General Gonse was then convinced of the guilt of Esterhazy and the innocence of Dreyfus, but I say that the Dreyfus case was open, that the Esterhazy case seemed to him to be inseparably connected with the Dreyfus case because of the handwritings, and that he was much disturbed, and felt that it was necessary to get at the light, which, moreover, could not be prevented. In short, gentlemen, this correspondence proves three things of equally great importance: (1) that there was never any confession serious enough to convince honorable people; (2) that the secret file is of no value so far as its bearing on Dreyfus is concerned, for otherwise General Gonse would not have said to Colonel Picquart: ‘Prudence, prudence,’ adding. ‘You are not lacking in that virtue, so my mind is easy,’ for, if there had been a secret file containing a document overwhelming to Dreyfus, General Gonse would have said to Colonel Picquart: ‘My dear friend, you are mad; so don’t disturb yourself; you know that we have the proof’; (3) that Colonel Picquart acted with the knowledge and encouragement of his superiors.
“Well, gentlemen, what was it that changed all this? What dealt the terrible blow that dragged this country so far from the truth, and into the storms by which it is now shaken? Was it the ridiculous documents that reached the war department on the eve of the Castelin interpellation? I have done justice to those. And I add that, in such a case, they would have shown them to Colonel Picquart first of all, saying: ‘My dear Picquart, you see that it is necessary to stop.’ Then it was not those documents that produced the change of mind. But I know what did produce it. It was the Castelin interpellation, and nothing else. I have called your attention to the beginning of the campaign by ‘Le Jour’ and ‘L’Autorité.’ Well, those for whom the Dreyfus case is a matter not to be touched, for whom a revision would involve too heavy responsibilities to be accepted without resistance, all these said to themselves: ‘Ah! there is going to be an interpellation; the country is going to be stirred up; the mouths of the traitor’s friends must be closed.’
“For a moment, gentlemen, it was the intention of the war department to let the light shine. But, when the interpellation was announced, it failed in courage. That is the truth. And so, when M. Castelin asked for information concerning the pretended escape of the traitor and the campaign that was beginning, General Billot ascended the tribune and pronounced for the first time these words, which were the beginning of the events which you are now witnessing.