It was in 1896 that the head of the Intelligence Department of the War Office, Colonel Picquart—whom I had often met at the Elysée—declared that the bordereau (the famous covering letter containing a list of documents which Dreyfus had been accused of communicating to Germany) had been written by Major Esterhazy. Colonel Picquart was replaced in his delicate post by Colonel Henry. In 1897, Senator Scheurer-Kestner attempted to have the Dreyfus case reopened, but President Faure objected strongly, and Méline, then Prime Minister, declared that the Dreyfus affair was classée (ended for good and all).
From that time a bitter war between Dreyfusards and anti-Dreyfusards was raged, and the most scurrilous slanders, the worst insults, became weapons of almost universal use. My salon was neutral ground, but I was soon unable to prevent these impassioned duels of words, in which there showed hardly a sign of tolerance or of human sympathy. And these constant duels took place between men who had been the closest friends all their lives, between brothers, between husband and wife, between father and son.... I gently pushed the worst disputants away into the conservatory, but the noise of their quarrels—the word discussion would be totally inadequate—reached the drawing-room where a few friends and I tried to play, as an antidote to the raging storm, a page of calm and pure music, by Haydn or Mozart!
To give an example of the strange happenings during that troubled period, I may mention the case of Mme. Z., the wife of an eminent judge, and the high priestess of a famous salon where one met everybody and anybody, the aristocratic "Faubourg Saint-Germain," and also ladies fair and frail such as a certain Mlle. Chichette, whose claim to immortality was based on the fact that she had been the first Parisienne to display on her corsage a tiny tortoise, set with precious stones and—alive.
Mme. Z., who was a rabid Dreyfusard—her husband, of course, being a rabid Anti-Dreyfusard—wore deep mourning during all the time Dreyfus was a prisoner, and appeared in a gaudy blue gown on the day of his liberation. Her mourning had at last come to an end.... It is only fair to add that mourning weeds suited her fair hair. There are limits to the noblest heroism.
Major Esterhazy, who had been arrested, was acquitted by the court-martial. Zola, whose famous letter "I accuse..." had appeared January 13th, 1898, in the Aurore—a journal founded by Clémenceau—was condemned the next month, but the sentence was quashed by the Cour de Cassation (court of supreme appeal), which ordered a new trial. Colonel Picquart was arrested for having made himself an earnest defender of a condemned officer.
Zola went to England, and only returned to France to witness the relative cause he had so ardently supported. Zola died in 1902.
I will now briefly state what I know of the event that took place in France from June 1898 (after the general elections), to February 16th, 1899, the date of Félix Faure's death. It was during that stormy period that I assisted President Faure in gathering documents and writing his memoirs. As I have stated, all his papers were, week after week, carefully put away in my house, and the reader will perhaps agree, when I come to deal with the mysterious murder in the Impasse Ronsin, that those papers had some connection with the murder.
In June, Félix Faure began to wonder whether Captain Marchand had reached Fashoda. When Minister for the Colonies, Delcassé had decided and organised the mission of M. Liotard to the Upper Ubanghi. M. Liotard and M. Cureau had successfully fulfilled their mission and had reached the western end of the Bahr-el-Ghazal. Early in 1897 Captain Marchand had left Brazzaville in the French Congo to join the Liotard Mission, but his orders were to reach the Bahr-el-Ghazal and to go up the White Nile as far as Fashoda, which he was to occupy. The scheme was a vast and well-conceived one. If it were successfully carried out France would possess a transcontinental African Empire reaching from Senegal to the Gulf of Aden, from the Atlantic to the Red Sea. President Faure went further; he already "saw" a trans-Saharan railroad crossing that immense Empire, and France so powerful in the region of the Upper Nile that she could regain some, perhaps even the greater part, of the influence she had lost in 1882 when Egypt was occupied by the English; France having declined to co-operate in suppressing the anti-Turkish and anti-European rebellion.
The time was opportune. The Egyptian frontier had been set back as far north as Wadi-Halfa. The Bahr-el-Ghazal was in the hands of the Khalifa and the Dervishes. Belgium coveted that rich province as much as France. It would belong to whoever settled there first.... And Marchand had almost reached Fashoda. Perhaps he was there already with his few white companions and his Senegalese soldiers. At any rate, his family had received from him viâ the Congo.
The Captain had completed half of his mission, and had started down the Sueh, a tributary of the White Nile, on the boat which the "mission" had carried in sections right in the heart of Africa.