ILLUSTRATIONS
| “Waiting” | [Frontispiece] |
| Offices of “Le Figaro” on the Evening of the Murder | [ 4] |
| Gaston Calmette in his Office at the “Figaro” | [ 4] |
| M. Boucard (the Examining Magistrate) and the Doctors leaving the Private Hospital where M. Calmette died | [ 8] |
| M. Victor Fabre, the Procureur Général | [36] |
| The Funeral of M. Calmette | [40] |
| The Brothers, Sons and Relatives of M. Calmette at the Funeral | [42] |
| Mme. Caillaux (and Detective) on her way to the Law Courts to be examined | [44] |
| SŒur Leonide | [47] |
| The Corridor Outside the Pistoles | [49] |
| “Jeanne,” the “Soubrette” of Pistole No. 12 | [51] |
| The Lorry which Paris Journalists thought was full of Mme. Caillaux’s Furniture | [54] |
| La Cour Des Filles in Saint Lazare | [54] |
| Madame Caillaux’s Cell exactly as it is | [62] |
| Monsieur Caillaux in his office at the Ministère des Finances | [68] |
| President Poincaré gives Evidence on Oath in the Caillaux Drama before the President of the Appeal Court, who waited on Him for this purpose at the Elysée | [80] |
| Monsieur Caillaux leaving the Law Courts | [86] |
| M. Privat-Deschanel who witnessed the Destruction of the Letters by Mme. Gueydan-Caillaux | [92] |
| M. Barthou mounting the stairs of the Law Courts on his way to give Evidence in the Caillaux Case | [99] |
| Monsieur Caillaux’s Friend, M. Ceccaldi | [127] |
| The “Ton Jo” Letter from the “Figaro” | [144] |
| Rochette in Court | [186] |
| Monsieur Barthou | [242] |
| Mme. Caillaux in the dress she was to wear at the Italian Embassy on the Evening of the Murder | [279] |
| M. Joseph Caillaux | [288] |
I
THE STORY OF THE DRAMA
Late on Monday afternoon, March 16, 1914, a rumour fired imaginations, like a train of gunpowder, all over Paris. In newspaper offices, in cafés, in clubs, people asked one another whether they had heard the news and whether the news were true. It seemed incredible. The wife of the Minister of Finance, said rumour, Madame Joseph Caillaux, one of the spoiled children of Paris society, had gone to the office of the Figaro, had waited there an hour or more for the managing editor, Monsieur Gaston Calmette, had been received by him, and had shot him dead in his own office. Nobody believed the story at first. Nobody could believe it. The very possibility of such a happening made it appear impossible. It was known, of course, that for some weeks before the Figaro had been waging an unsparing campaign against the Minister of Finance. It was known that Monsieur Caillaux had been and was infuriated at this campaign, but nobody believed that tragedy had followed. There was a rush to the Figaro office. Paris is a small town compared with London, and the Figaro building in the Rue Drouot is in a more central position in the throbbing news and sensation-loving heart of Paris than is either Piccadilly or Fleet Street in London. Within ten minutes of the first news of the tragedy there was a large crowd gathered in the Rue Drouot, and even those who could not get into the Figaro building soon received confirmation that the drama really had occurred. People had seen a large and luxurious motor-car stationed outside the building. There was nothing at all unusual in this, for the offices of the Figaro are the resort in the afternoon of many people with big motor-cars. What was unusual, and had attracted notice, was the fact that the driver of the car had worn the tricolour cockade which in Paris is worn only by the drivers of cars or carriages belonging to the Ministers. Even this evidence was in no way conclusive, for courtesy permits Ambassadors and Ministers accredited to the French Government by foreign countries to give their servants the red white and blue cockade, and it was thought by many that the car had not belonged to a French Minister at all, but was the property of an Ambassador. Then the story gained precision. A woman, it was said, escorted by police, had come out of the Figaro office and seated herself in the car. The driver, as she entered, had removed his tricolour cockade and driven round the corner to the police-station. The doors of the Figaro office were closed and guarded. A few minutes later all Paris knew the story. In the big grey motor-car in which she had driven to the Rue Drouot that afternoon, Madame Caillaux had been taken in custody to the police-station in the Rue du Faubourg Montmartre. Monsieur Gaston Calmette, the editor of the Figaro, lay dying in his office. His friend, Doctor Reymond, who was with him, gave little hope that his life could be saved, and those of the members of the staff of the paper who could be approached could only murmur confirmation of the same sad news. Later in the evening Monsieur Calmette was taken out to Neuilly to the private hospital of another friend, Professor Hartmann. He died there just before midnight. Madame Caillaux had arrived in her motor-car at No. 26 Rue Drouot at about five o’clock, and had asked for Monsieur Calmette. She was told that Monsieur Calmette was out, but that he would certainly arrive before long. “Then I will wait,” she said.
Agence Nouvelle—Photo, Paris
OFFICES OF LE FIGARO ON THE EVENING OF THE MURDER