Chapter XXI: M. Anatole France speaking at Zola's Funeral (18)

She and her husband sat down to dinner that evening about eight o'clock. They were very hungry and made a hearty meal. Then, at an early hour, being somewhat tired by their removal from the country to town, they retired to rest. At that moment Madame Zola observed that the bedroom fire was smouldering, and asked her husband if he wished it to be extinguished. He answered that he did not think it necessary, for it would soon burn out. Then one or the other lowered to within a few inches of the hearth the sheet-iron _tablier_, a kind of screen or shutter with which most French fireplaces are provided. They went to bed and fell asleep, but about three o'clock in the morning Madame Zola suddenly awoke, experiencing a feeling of great oppression. Her head was heavy and she was seized with nausea. She managed to get out of bed for the purpose of going to the adjoining dressing-room, but was no sooner on her feet than faintness came over her and she had to cling to the bedstead for support. At last she contrived to drag herself to the dressing-room, where she was able to breathe more freely. But the feeling of nausea persisted, and at last came violent vomiting, which kept her in the dressing-room for three quarters of an hour. This, however, helped to save her life, and feeling considerably relieved, she quitted the dressing-room and returned to bed. Her coming and going had wakened her husband, and after scolding a little pet dog which slept in the room on an arm-chair, from which it had climbed upon the bed, Madame Zola, thinking that she heard her husband complain, turned to him and inquired if he also felt unwell. "It is curious, but I do," he answered, explaining that his symptoms were akin to hers. She thereupon suggested that she should summon the servants, but he replied: "It is not worth while. We are both suffering from indigestion. It will be nothing, we shall be all right to-morrow." Then, intending to open a window or go to the dressing-room as his wife had done, he rose, looked for his slippers, and took a few steps. But all at once a fainting fit came upon him, and he was too far from the bedstead to use it as a support. His wife heard him gasp, then fall upon the floor. She called him, but he did not answer. She wished to go to his help, but again an oppressive stifling sensation suddenly came upon her and she was unable to rise or even press the electric bell in order to summon assistance. By a last despairing effort she managed to sit up in bed, but immediately fell back again, losing consciousness. That was all she was able to relate when she was subsequently questioned; she could remember nothing more.

At eight o'clock in the morning the two workmen who were making repairs in the house arrived, and Madame Monnier, the doorkeeper, set them on some quiet little jobs in order that her employers might not be disturbed. They, the Zolas, usually rose between eight and nine, but that morning time went by and they gave no sign of life. About nine o'clock Madame Monnier's husband, one of the two men-servants, knocked repeatedly at the bedroom door but obtained no answer. He and his wife then became alarmed, and with the help of one of the workmen burst the door open. To their horror and amazement they saw Zola lying in his nightgown on the floor, his feet just touching the rug beside the bed. One of the party at once opened a window, while Madame Monnier went to the bed where her mistress was lying unconscious. There was a second bedstead in the room, a small iron one, and to this some of the servants carried their master's body, then hurried in search of a doctor. The first to arrive was Dr. Marc Berman, a practitioner of Russian origin, who happened to be in a chemist's shop in the vicinity. He at once examined Zola and found no signs of life, though the body was still warm. Death had occurred little more than an hour previously, in all likelihood shortly after eight o'clock. Turning to Madame Zola, the doctor found her in an extremely weak state, but some hope of saving her remained, and indeed at the expiration of some twenty minutes the efforts to revive her to consciousness began to take effect, though they had to be continued for fully another hour.

Dr. Berman had sent to the chemist's for oxygen, ether, and an electrical battery; and in the hope that Zola might not be quite dead every possible effort to stimulate life was made. Artificial respiration, rhythmical tractoration of the tongue, injections of ether, frictions, the application of hot-water bottles, the electrisation of the diaphragm,--all the devices known to medical science were put into practice and persevered with for three hours by Dr. Berman and Drs. Lenormand and Main, who joined him. But nothing had any effect: Zola was indeed dead.[4]

Meantime telegrams were despatched to the novelist's intimate friends and his wife's relatives. The district Commissary of Police who had been summoned, communicated with the Prefect, and an official inquiry into the tragedy was at once ordered. Madame Laborde, a cousin of the Zolas, was soon on the spot, followed by M. Charpentier, M. Fasquelle, M. Desmoulin, and others; and late in the afternoon Madame Zola was removed to Dr. Defaut's Maison de Santé in the Avenue du Roule, Neuilly, in such wise that the investigations were pursued in all freedom. The bedroom chimney proved to be both defective and obstructed; and when a fire was lighted and some guinea-pigs were left in the room for a night, the animals, though still alive on the morrow, were then found in a hebetated state.[5] Meantime an examination of Zola's remains was made, the doctors afterwards reporting that all the vital organs were sound, though the blood was saturated with oxide of carbon.[6] This, it may be mentioned, fixes on the globules of the blood, whence it expels all oxygen, thereby producing drowsiness, numbness, and at last a species of paralysis. Perhaps in Zola's case the blood-poisoning may not have been the only cause of death, for it is possible that he might have survived in spite of it, if, like his wife, he had been able to relieve himself, and if he had not fallen on the floor of the room, where the atmosphere, impregnated with carbonic acid gas, may have been almost unbreathable. However, the experts virtually agreed in ascribing the death to the poisoning of the blood by carbonic oxide.

Madame Zola remained at Dr. Defaut's house for some days, regaining her strength very slowly. At first her husband's death was concealed from her, she believed that he was only ill like herself. But the sad truth had to be told, and then, after a violent explosion of grief, realising that she had duties to fulfil, she insisted on returning home in spite of her weakness. It was a terrible home-coming. Her husband's body had been embalmed with more or less success--for signs of decomposition had set in directly after the post-mortem examination--and laid in its coffin, which was placed in the study, where much of the novelist's work had been done. And it was there that the unhappy widow found it. But she gave proof of no little fortitude, and speedily signified her wishes and those which she knew to have been her husband's, in order that proper arrangements might be made in the dolorous circumstances which had now arisen.

The tragic character of Zola's death had created a sensation throughout the civilised world. Every day for an entire week the vestibule of the house in the Rue de Bruxelles was crowded with notabilities in literature, science, art, and politics, who came to inscribe their names in the registers. Telegrams, letters, and addresses of sympathy were continually arriving from all parts of France and from well-nigh every foreign country, emanating now from societies and associations, now from eminent men, now too from members of the French and foreign Governments. Wreaths and coronals and other combinations of flowers followed in profusion, and a public subscription was speedily started for a monument in Zola's honour. But the enemy did not disarm. Vile libels were sold on the boulevards. Henri Rochefort wrote a foul article in "L'Intransigeant," insinuating that Zola had committed suicide because he had discovered Dreyfus to be really guilty. Édouard Drumont declared in "La Libre Parole" that the name of Zola inspired horror in all who possessed French hearts. "La Patrie" shrieked that the dead man had defended treason and vilified the flag. The renegade Jews of "Le Gaulois," after asserting that he had shown no pity for France, declared, "Nevertheless we are Christians, and we therefore hope that God will show some mercy to this wretched creature who knew no compassion." The said Jews, by the way, after the usual fashion of renegades, had never evinced the slightest pity for the martyr of Devil's Island, but in their Catholic fervour had fiendishly approved of the abominable tortures devised by the Under Secretary for the Colonies, the strangely named Lebon. As for "La Croix," the organ of the religious orders, it viewed Zola's death with unctuous complacency, admitting that the occurrence might well have been "a merciful accident by which at least one crime had been spared that wretched man." But another clerical rag, calling itself "Le Peuple Français," declared with all solemnity that God had stifled Zola in punishment for his sins. Others enlarged on that theme: it was by no mere coincidence, they said, that Zola had died on Michaelmas Day, St. Michael had really descended in the Rue de Bruxelles! Thus Paris was again divided into two hostile camps, Dreyfusites and anti-Dreyfusites confronting one another threateningly as if the Affair had sprung to life again from Zola's ashes.

There had been great changes, however, in government circles. An insidious malady having compelled M. Waldeck-Rousseau to resign office after carrying the policy of Republican defence no further than its first stage, the prime ministership had passed to M. Combes, a man then very much misunderstood by most people, who ascribed to him a vacillating character, whereas his friends were aware that he really possessed a remarkably strong will, and that if he now and again seemed to follow rather than direct the course of events this was mere diplomacy on the part of one who never lost sight of the goal he desired to attain. M. Combes and his colleagues were undoubtedly on the side of truth and justice, and though, in the state of public opinion, they felt they could not appeal to the Legislature to accord a national funeral to Zola's remains, they at once decided that the Government should participate in the obsequies.

Zola's will, a very brief one, executed in 1883 and bequeathing all his property to his wife, contained no indication of where or how he desired to be buried. But the widow was well acquainted with his desires, and gave instructions that the interment should take place in Paris and, as in Hugo's case, without any religious rites. The question was raised whether an application should be made to the authorities for the military honours to which Zola was entitled as an officer of the Legion of Honour, his suspension from which had ceased with the Amnesty. It was decided to make no such application, but to accept the honours if they were tendered, which decision was scarcely taken when the Minister of War, General André, signified his resolve that they should be accorded. He further sent his _chef de cabinet_, General Percin, to the Rue de Bruxelles to tender his condolences, whereupon the Nationalist newspapers began to shriek that the army was disgraced. As it was also asserted by a writer of "Le Gaulois," a renegade Jew named Pollonnais, that General Percin, having met ex-Captain Dreyfus at the house, had shaken hands with him, Count Boniface de Castellane, the notorious husband of a daughter of Jay Gould, wrote to General Percin inquiring if this were true. The contemptuous answer which ensued led to a duel in which each combatant slightly wounded the other. As a matter of fact, General Percin had not met M. Dreyfus when he called in the Rue de Bruxelles, and had therefore had no occasion either to offer or refuse him his hand.

The victim of the military and clerical factions had naturally been admitted to view the remains of the man who had so ably championed his cause, and it was also natural that he should desire to attend the funeral. But every effort was now being made to rouse anti-Semitic passions, and Madame Zola dreaded lest the interment should be disturbed by some horrible riot. She therefore begged M. Dreyfus to refrain from attending, pointing out to him that the police authorities, like herself, were of opinion that his presence would give rise to great disturbances. M. Dreyfus was deeply affected by the request; he regarded his attendance at the obsequies as a matter of duty to his defender, and felt that everybody would accuse him of cowardice should he hide himself away. At last Madame Zola's entreaties prevailed, and he consented to do as she desired. The reports of this interview which appeared in the newspapers checked the Nationalist outcry, and on the eve of the funeral, when it had been ascertained that the authorities had decided to take every possible precaution to preserve order, it was felt that the decision with respect to M. Dreyfus might be altered. He was therefore informed that he might attend, and he gladly availed himself of the permission.

The obsequies were celebrated on Sunday, October 5, in the presence of a vast concourse of people. The distance from the Rue de Bruxelles to the place of interment, the Montmartre cemetery, was fortunately short, and to keep the crowd in check the Place Moncey and the Boulevard de Clichy were lined with police and municipal guards. Two squadrons of cavalry were also kept in readiness, though virtually out of sight, one assembling on the Place Vintimille, within a stone's-throw of the Rue de Bruxelles. Access to that street was afforded only to the bearers of special "laissez-passers," the numerous deputations assembling in neighboring thoroughfares and joining the procession on the road. In front of the house in the Rue de Bruxelles a detachment of the Twenty-eighth Infantry of the Line was mustered, under the command of Captain Olivier, an officer who had always believed in the innocence of Dreyfus, and who after refusing to participate in a subscription in honour of the forger Henry had fought a duel with one of the latter's partisans. Three cars bearing a profusion of wreaths, many extremely large,--splendid chrysanthemums of various hues being the predominant flowers,--preceded the hearse, on which a few other wreaths were placed. The drums beat and the soldiers presented arms when the coffin was brought from the house, escorted by the pall-bearers and followed by relatives and intimate friends. The pall-bearers were MM. Ludovic Halévy and Abel Hermant, respectively Presidents of the Société des Auteurs Dramatiques and the Société des Gens de Lettres, MM. Charpentier and Fasquelle, Zola's publishers, M. Théodore Duret, the historian, M. Alfred Bruneau, the composer, M. Octave Mirbeau, the novelist and playwright, who had held Zola's power of attorney during his exile in England, and M. Briat, the secretary of the Labour Exchange. Immediately behind the hearse walked MM. Laborde and Loiseau, relatives of the deceased, M. Fernand Desmoulin and Dr. Larat, intimate friends, followed by M. Anatole France and a few others. Then came Dr. Le Prince and Vizetelly, between whom, with his hands in theirs, was little Jacques.... The representatives of the Government followed. All the state departments were represented, and M. Chaumié, Minister of Public Instruction, attended in person. Then, after a crowd of celebrities in literature, science, art, politics, and law, came innumerable deputations, many of them carrying wreaths and coronals, a _cortège_ of fifty thousand persons, advancing amid the concourse of spectators whom the military and police held back. The order was perfect, all heads were uncovered, all voices stilled. As the hearse passed on, the police saluted, the military presented arms. Again, inside the cemetery, on either hand, all along the Avenue St. Charles, and the Avenue de Montmorency, men of the Garde Républicaine stood at attention and presented arms until the _cortège_ at last halted on an open space, where a tribune had been erected for the funeral orations.

The first address was delivered by M. Chaumié, who began by speaking of the terribly sudden death of the departed author, which had sent a thrill of stupefaction through the world. From all quarters, both at home and abroad, there had come messages of condolence, and the Government of the Republic had made it a point of honour to be represented at the obsequies. As others would speak of Zola's literary genius, he (the Minister) would refer more particularly to the mission which the deceased had set himself,--that of painting so striking a picture of society, with its sufferings, its passions, and its vices, that even those with the poorest sight would perceive that remedial measures were imperatively needed. Whenever a cause had seemed to him just he had espoused it without hesitation, braving all furious or perfidious anger, the wildest insults, the most unjust hatred, the most painful betrayals. And thus the humble and the wretched, feeling that they had lost a great friend, were now mingling their gratitude and their grief with the admiration of those who deplored the immense loss which had befallen literature.

It was particularly from the literary standpoint that M. Abel Hermant next addressed the throng, and he did so admirably, setting forth both the characteristics and the limitations of the genius of Zola, who had perhaps failed to show sufficient penetration when dealing with the psychology of certain individual characters, but who had excelled in depicting what was called "the crowd." He had been a master in the art of assembling facts and personages: his crowds and his paintings of nature were full of life. And he had never sought common popularity. He had sacrificed nothing in order to curry favour with the multitude, as was done by those who were eager for success at any price. Far from flattering the masses, he had braved them, measured himself against them fearlessly, and not only in connection with the terrible truths enunciated in his novels had a clamour of anger and menace arisen around him. At last, passing to his peroration,--a very appropriate one,--M. Hermant said:

"At the close of one of his finest works[7] Zola describes a
ceremony such as this, one unattended by a great concourse
of people, but none the less painful for the few friends
pressing around the remains of an unappreciated artist. On
retiring from the graveside one of that artist's most notable
companions, one who resembles Zola like a brother,[8] speaks
a few words,--words of duty, comfort, and hope. Those words
are certainly the only farewell that Zola himself desires
from us, gentlemen, and I should feel I had failed in giving
expression to one of his last desires, did I leave this
spot without repeating those words to you. I certainly did
not think that the duty would come so soon, nor did I think
it would be for me to lend my humble voice to my master in
order to remind the multitude around me of the humble yet
magnificent device of his whole life: 'Let us work!'"

Only discreet marks of approval had attended M. Chaumié's speech. Now, however, for the first time in the day's proceedings, a burst of applause rang out. But M. Hermant had quitted the tribune, and in his place appeared M. Anatole France, who came to bid Zola farewell on behalf of all his friends. M. France had testified for him at the Paris Assizes, he had supported the cause of truth and justice from the outset, and moreover, now that Zola was gone, his own eminent position in literature seemed all the greater. Thus, from every standpoint, it was well that he should have been selected to say the last words. He spoke as follows:

"Gentlemen,--In rendering to Émile Zola on behalf of his
friends the honours which are due to him I will say nothing
of my grief and theirs. Those who leave great names should
not be celebrated by lamentations, but by manly praise and a
sincere picturing of their life and work. The literary work
of Zola was immense.... When one saw that work arising, stone
by stone, its immensity caused surprise. Some admired, some
were astonished, some praised, some blamed it. Praise and
blame were bestowed with equal vehemence. The great writer
was occasionally assailed--I know it by my own example--with
reproaches which were sincere and yet unjust. Invectives and
apologies intermingled, and still and ever the work grew. Now
that one can contemplate the whole of its colossal structure
the spirit pervading it may also be discerned. It was a
spirit of kindliness. Zola had a kindly nature. The candour
and the simplicity of great souls were his. He pictured vice
with a rough and virtuous hand. His seeming pessimism, the
sombre humour cast over more than one of his pages, scarcely
conceals his real optimism, his stubborn faith in the advance
of human intelligence and knowledge. In his novels, those
social studies, he pursued with vigorous hatred an idle and
frivolous society, a base and baleful aristocracy; he fought
against the evil of the age,--the power of money. Though a
democrat, he never flattered the multitude, he strove to
show it what slavery proceeds from ignorance, what dangers
come from strong drink, which delivers it over, senseless
and defenceless, to every form of oppression, every kind of
wretchedness, every sort of shame. He fought against social
evils wherever he met them. They were the things he hated.
But in his last books he showed the whole of his love for
mankind. He strove to divine, to foresee, a better social
state. He desired that an ever increasing number of the
human race might be called to happiness in the world. He set
his hopes on the human mind, on science. He awaited from
new powers of machinery the progressive enfranchisement of
toiling humanity. A sincere realist, he was nevertheless an
ardent idealist. In grandeur his work can only be compared
to that of Tolstoï. At the two extremities of European
thought the lyre has raised two vast ideal cities. Both are
generous and pacific; but whereas Tolstoï's is the city of
resignation, Zola's is the city of work.

"While he was still young, Zola acquired fame. In quietude
and celebrity he was enjoying the fruits of his labour when
he suddenly wrested himself from all repose, from the work
which he loved, from the peaceful pleasures of his life.
Doubtless, in presence of a coffin only grave and serene
words should be spoken, calmness and harmony should be
preserved. But you are aware, gentlemen, that calmness is
found only in justice, that repose is found only in truth. I
speak not of philosophical truth, the subject of our endless
discussions, but of that moral truth which we can all detect
because it is relative, sensible, in conformity with our
nature, and so near to us that a child can touch it with the
hand. I will not fail, then, in my duty to justice which
orders me to praise that which is praiseworthy. I will not
hide the truth beneath cowardly silence. Why, indeed, should
we be silent? Are they, his slanderers, silent? I will say
only what is necessary before this bier, but I will say all
that is necessary."

At this point M. Anatole France paused, interrupted by repeated cries of "Bravo!" Those who were gathered around the tribune had listened in attentive silence to the earlier part of his discourse, but from this point almost every sentence was punctuated by applause. The crowd in the cemetery was so dense, stretching away to the very gates, that thousands were unable to hear a word of the speech, and the "Bravos!" which rang out from those who were more fortunately placed, naturally excited the others, whom the police restrained with considerable difficulty. Meantime M. Anatole France was continuing:

"Having to recall the struggle upon which Zola entered in the
cause of truth and justice, is it possible for me to preserve
silence respecting those who were bent on ruining the cause
of an innocent man, those who felt that if he should be
saved, they would be lost, and who with all the desperate
audacity of fear therefore strove to overwhelm him. How can
I remove them from your gaze when I have to show you Zola
rising, weak and unarmed, before them? Can I remain silent
about their lies? That would mean silence as to his heroic
rectitude. Can I remain silent about their crimes? That would
mean silence as to his virtues. Can I remain silent about
the outrages and slanders with which they pursued him? That
would mean silence as to his reward and honours. Can I remain
silent about their shame? That would mean silence as to his
glory. No! I will speak out.

"With the calmness and firmness which the spectacle of
death imparts, I will recall the dim days when egotism and
fear had their seats in the government councils. People
were beginning to know something of the iniquity, but it
was supported, defended, by such public and secret powers
that the most resolute hesitated. Those whose duty it was
to speak out remained silent. Some of the best, who feared
nothing personally, dreaded lest they should involve their
party in frightful dangers. Led astray by monstrous lies,
excited by odious declamation, the multitude of the people,
believing they were betrayed, grew exasperated.... The
darkness thickened. Sinister silence reigned. And it was then
that Zola addressed to the President of the Republic that
well-measured yet terrible letter which denounced falsity and
collusion.

"With what fury was he assailed by the criminals, by their
interested defenders, by their involuntary accomplices, by
coalitions of all the reactionary parties, by the deceived
multitude, you know that full well. You saw innocently minded
people joining in all simplicity the hideous _cortège_ of
hireling brawlers. You heard the howls of rage and the cries
of death whioh pursued him even into the Palais de Justice
during that long trial when he was judged in voluntary
ignorance, on false testimony, amid the clatter of swords. I
see here some of those who then stood beside him, who shared
his dangers. Let them say if ever more insult was hurled at a
just man! Let them say too with what firmness he endured it!
Let them say if his robust kindliness, his manly pity, ever
deserted him, if his constancy was for a moment shaken! In
those abominable days more than one good citizen despaired of
the salvation of the country, of the moral fortune of France.
Not only were the Republicans defending the present _régime_
terrified, but one of the most resolute enemies of the
_régime_, an irreconcilable Socialist, exclaimed bitterly,
'If present-day society be so corrupt as this, one will
not even be able to found a new society on its fragments!'
Indeed, justice, honour, common sense, all seemed lost.

"But all was saved. Zola had not merely revealed a judicial
error, he had denounced the conspiracy of all the forces
of violence and oppression leagued together to slay social
justice, Republicanism, freedom of thought in France. His
courageous words awoke the country. The consequences of his
deed are incalculable. They unroll themselves to-day in
power and majesty, they spread out indefinitely, they have
determined a movement of social equity which will not stop.
A new order of things is arising, based on a better sense of
justice, on a deeper knowledge of the rights of all.

"Gentlemen, there is only one country in the world where such
great things could have been accomplished. How beautiful
is the genius of our fatherland! How beautiful is that
soul of France which in past centuries taught equity to
Europe and the world! France is the land of ornate reason
and kindly thoughts, the land of equitable magistrates and
humane philosophers, the land of Turgot, of Montesquieu,
of Voltaire, of Malesherbes. And Zola deserved well of the
country by refusing to despair of justice in France. We must
not pity him for having endured and suffered. Let us rather
envy him! Set above the most prodigious heap of outrages ever
raised by folly, ignorance, and malice, his glory attains
to inaccessible heights. Let us envy him: he honoured his
country and the world by immense literary work and by a great
deed. Let us envy him: his destiny and his heart gave him the
grandest fate: in him at one moment was set the conscience of
mankind!"

The presence of death, all around one in that great cemetery, was quite forgotten when M. Anatole France ceased speaking. Tumultuous applause arose while relatives and friends were taking up their positions for the march past of the thousands attending the obsequies. Several ladies, Mesdames Laborde, Charpentier, Fasquelle, and others,[9] had joined the family party, which stood in line on the verge of a transverse avenue, immediately in front of the tomb of the famous Baron Hirsch. For two hours the march past continued. M. Dreyfus, accompanied by M. Gabriel Monod of the Institute of France, and M. Lalance, a former Alsatian deputy, passed unrecognised by the great majority. But Maître Labori and Colonel Picquart were acclaimed. A host of distinguished men went by, and after them came all the deputations, the town of Denain sending a pitman, a blacksmith, and a peasant, each attired in the costume of his calling,--the first with his "Davy," the second with his leather apron, the third shouldering his scythe. In a like spirit Freemasons wore their insignia, and again and again came wreaths of flowers and "immortelles," silver palms and other tributes, borne in procession as far as the provisional vault. Every now and then, moreover, some deputation halted for a moment before the hearse, and cries were raised of "Glory to Zola! Honour to the apostle of justice!" Others called, "Germinal! Germinal!" in memory of Zola's great book in which he had taken the part of the toilers against the greed of the capitalists. For the rest, the crowd was most orderly, and one was struck by the presence of an immense number of young men about twenty years of age, the electors and artisans of the future, with whom perhaps some day the great principles laid down by Zola may finally triumph. Not until the vast concourse had gone onward, one hundred and fifty persons passing every minute, did the hearse proceed to the temporary vault to which Zola's remains were quietly committed. There were a few disturbances outside the cemetery, where several parties of anti-Semites had now assembled, but these were speedily quelled by the police and the municipal guards. And thus the long ceremony, which had lasted some four hours, came to an end.

For several months, however, the great novelist's widow continued to receive tributes of sympathy. The municipalities of various towns bestowed the name of Rue or Boulevard Zola on one and another thoroughfare, thus testifying to the revulsion of feeling in favour of Dreyfus's champion. A considerable sum was yielded by the subscription[10] for a public monument to be erected in some part of Paris, perhaps the Tuileries garden, and a design for this monument was commissioned. In February, 1903, the novelist's last book "Vérité" was published.[11] Then in March the greater part of his library was sold at the Hôtel Drouot in Paris, some twenty-six hundred volumes being thus dispersed.[12] There was a curious illuminated manuscript breviary of the fourteenth century which Zola had used while writing "Le Rêve," and numerous historical, philosophical, medical, and other scientific works, with some volumes of voyages and travels, and collections of periodicals. None of the above, the breviary excepted, were of much value, but considerable interest attached to a very large collection of presentation copies of modern novels and stories, including all those of Guy de Maupassant and many by the Goncourts, Gustave Flaubert, Alphonse Daudet, Paul Bourget, Halévy, Huysmans, Marcel Prévost, Anatole France, Claretie, and others. All those works were inscribed to Zola by their authors. In a copy of Flaubert's "Tentation de St. Antoine" were written the words, "_à Zola un solide que j'aime_"; while the "Trois Contes" contained the inscription "_à Émile Zola, bon bougre! et du talent! son vieux, Gve. Flaubert_." Some interest attached also to M. Waldeck-Rousseau's "Questions Sociales," published in 1900, for it was inscribed "_à Émile Zola en témoignage d'admiration_"--and yet M. Waldeck-Rousseau was the statesman who in that same year carried the Amnesty Law against which Zola so strongly protested! From this little circumstance one can divine what were M. Waldeck-Rousseau's private sentiments, whatever may have been his public declarations with respect to the Affair. The books sold at the Hôtel Drouot comprised also many of the translations of Zola's novels in different foreign languages, and the sale further included a variety of tapestry, curios, and works of art. The total proceeds were about six thousand one hundred pounds. It may be added that more than eight hundred of the inscribed presentation volumes were purchased by Mr. James Carleton Young, a well-known American book-collector, of Minneapolis, who proposes to establish in that city a magnificent library, in which every work will bear an inscription by its author. Autograph letters and manuscripts are also to be included in the collection, which already comprises several thousand volumes by dead and living writers in virtually all languages.[13]

It remains to be added here that on May 26, 1903, in the presence of a few relatives and friends, Zola's remains were quietly translated from their provisional resting-place to a tomb--designed by M. Frantz-Jourdain--facing the _rond-point_ or open space near the entrance of the Montmartre cemetery There they will probably remain until the French nation decrees their removal to the Pantheon.

[1] See _ante_, p. 430.

[2] "Travail," Paris, Fasquelle, 1901, 18mo, 666 pages; some copies on special papers, etc. Seventy-seventh thousand in 1903.

[3] In the early parts of this year, 1902, Messrs. Raoul de Saint-Arroman and Charles Hugot produced a dramatic version of "La Terre" which attracted considerable attention. Some scenes were certainly interesting, but the play was deficient in cohesion. The same authors had previously adapted "Au Bonheur des Dames" for the stage. Subsequent to Zola's death M. de Saint-Arroman related in "Le Siècle" that on being asked what percentage of the author's rights in those plays should be paid to him the novelist had answered, "Whatever you like." Zola's enemies often insinuated that his nature was a grasping one in money as in other matters, but there was no truth whatever in the charge.

[4] The pet dog which had slept in the bedroom was in a very weak state, but it had vomited during the night, and this may have helped to save it. Another little dog which had remained in the dressing-room had not been ill.

[5] The statement current in some newspapers at the time that the fire which had such a fatal result was of artificial fuel such as compressed coal dust was inaccurate. Coal was employed, and the writer believes it to have been Welsh anthracite, for Zola bought such coal in considerable quantities, chiefly for the electric light installation at Médan, whither it was brought up the Seine by barge from Rouen. That such coal would not burn well in a defective chimney is certain. It ignites with difficulty unless there be a good current of air. On the other hand, it throws out little if any smoke, and it is a significant circumstance that none was found in the bedroom.

[6] The writer was in the house while the post-mortem examination was made, and to the best of his knowledge and belief it lasted about forty minutes. In view of the stifling fits induced by a form of angina from which Zola had suffered periodically ever since 1875, it was strange to hear that all the organs were sound. It is not for the writer to engage in any discussion with medical men, but he cannot reconcile their report with the complaint from which Zola undoubtedly suffered.

[7] "L'Œuvre."

[8] Sandoz.

[9] Madame Zola was not present, her relatives and friends having entreated her to remain at home.

[10] The writer believes that the subscription still remains open (March 1904), the amount received not being quite sufficient for a monument on the scale which the committee has in view. The treasurer is M. Lucien Fontaine, 1 Rue Jacob, Paris. The committee is a representative one of distinguished Frenchmen.

[11] "Vérité," Paris, Fasquelle, 18mo, 749 pages. Presentation copies and those of the first thousand with a mourning border on their covers.

[12] It is certain that the fortune left by Zola was of very moderate amount, for he had never hoarded money. Besides the large sums he had expended in connection with the Dreyfus case, he had for many years discharged a number of family obligations with respect to relatives in modest circumstances both in Italy and France. He was also the providence of the poorer peasantry around Médan, and the number of struggling young writers whom he helped with his purse was large.

[13] Mr. Young has acquired some scores of letters written by Zola, notably several bearing on his attempts to gain admission to the French Academy.

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