“Gentlemen, we have known terrible shocks in this century. We have experienced all glories and all disasters. We are now confronted with the unknown, between all fears and all hopes. Seize the occasion, as we have seized it, and determine your destinies. It is an august thing, this judgment of the people upon itself. It is a terrible thing also, this decision by the people of its future. Your verdict, gentlemen, will not decide our fates as much as your own. We appear before you. You appear before history.”
It was six o’clock when M. Clemenceau took his seat and Attorney-General Van Cassel rose to reply.
“I am obliged to place the question before you anew. M. Zola has declared that the council of war condemned in obedience to orders. Has he given the slightest proof of this? He has not even attempted it. For twelve days we have heard nothing here but insults to the army; and now, for the last two days, in order that they might be tolerated here, they have done nothing but repeat that the staff is made up of brave generals, and that the council of war rendered its verdict in good faith. The insulters have been forced to hide themselves behind the army, shouting: ‘Long live the army!’”
To this address M. Labori made rejoinder. Facing the audience, which was crying “Enough! enough! Down with Labori!” he said:
“This last incident was necessary, in order to show the two parties to this debate,—those, on the one hand, who plead for justice and right, and those who shout ‘Enough!’ when, in the name of the accused, the counsel takes the floor, as is his right.”
Then, turning to the attorney-general, he continued:
“You call me an insulter of the army; for it was at me that your words were aimed, since it was I who spoke for two days. I am not of those who are accustomed to such attacks, and I am not of those who are disposed to submit to them. I do not accept this insult that rises to me from your seat, Monsieur Attorney-General, however high your position. From the standpoint of talent you and I are equals. You have no lesson to give me. I refuse you the right, and I say that you rose to utter these brief words because you knew that they would let loose a manifestation which you had a right to expect from a hall packed against us.”
Then, turning to the jury, he concluded:
“There are two ways of understanding right, gentlemen of the jury. The question before you is this: Is Zola guilty? Let these clamors dictate to you, gentlemen, the duty of firmness that is incumbent upon you. You are the sovereign arbiters. You are higher than the army, higher than the judicial power. You are the justice of the people, which only the judgment of history will judge. If you have the courage, declare Zola guilty of having struggled against all hatreds in behalf of right, justice, and liberty.”
The session was then suspended, and the jury retired for deliberation. After thirty-five minutes, it returned. The court came in again. Then the foreman of the jury rose and said: