Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 408 A pile of stinking dog poop!

Instead of solemn silence or enthusiastic applause, Minister Jules Kold's solemn announcement was met with uproarious laughter that nearly lifted the courtroom's dome!

"Hahahaha-"

"A pardon? A pardon for what?"

Five hundred francs?

"My God, this is absolutely hilarious!"

The long-suppressed crowd in the gallery completely lost control.

Reporters laughed so hard they were doubled over, pounding their notebooks; ordinary citizens clutched their stomachs, laughing until tears streamed down their faces; even some bailiffs maintaining order couldn't help but turn away, their shoulders shaking violently.

This is probably the most absurd scene in the history of the Palace of Justice:
The Minister of Justice, carrying a presidential pardon, solemnly announced a "pardon" in a case in which the defendant had just been sentenced to a fine of 500 francs.

Jules Kold's face instantly turned a deep purplish-red, like a pig's liver.

He had anticipated various reactions—gratitude, doubt, even anger—but he had never expected such unbridled mockery.

He abruptly turned to the area where the laughter was loudest, then pointed at Lionel: "You...you dare...Lionel Sorel! Especially you!"
His Excellency the President, in the spirit of republican benevolence, has granted you a pardon, sparing you from possible imprisonment! What a grace this is!
Not only are you ungrateful, but you even dare to laugh here? It's utterly shameless! Where is your conscience and upbringing?!

Lionel was not intimidated by the stern rebuke. Instead, he leisurely adjusted his posture and said, "Minister, perhaps you should consult with the esteemed Judge Bernard first."

I think he can explain better than I why the president's "immense mercy" seems so humorous at this moment.

Minister Jules Kold paused, then turned to the judge's bench, his anger blazing: "Judge Bernard! What on earth is going on?"

Judge Bernard stood up, expressionless, and outlined the process and outcome of the bizarre trial that had just taken place, concluding with:

"Today's verdict is based on the fact that the defendant left the country for the UK without permission after being summoned by the court, and his conduct was deemed to constitute 'contempt of justice'."

Accordingly, this court hereby sentences him to a fine of five hundred francs. The fine must be paid within two weeks.

As for the other charges, those will have to wait until the prosecutor gathers new evidence and files another indictment.

Concise yet powerful, it struck Minister Jules Kold hard on the head.

“Five…five hundred francs?” the minister murmured, repeating the number, his anger replaced by utter bewilderment.

He looked down at the roll of documents in his hand, feeling as if he were caught in an incomprehensible vortex.

Prime Minister Jules Ferry finally reached a compromise with Grevey, then sent him into the courtroom during the trial with a pardon personally signed by the president, intending to stage a grand spectacle of "the prime minister mercifully saving a persecuted writer" to salvage the government's crumbling reputation...

As a result, all he wanted to "pardon" was a fine of five hundred francs.

At that moment, Minister Jules Corde felt that he, along with the presidential authority and the government of the Republic that he represented, had become a clown in the eyes of all of Paris, all of France, and even the world.

He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but found that any words seemed pale and powerless at this moment.

Suppressed laughter erupted again in the courtroom, undisguised mockery directed at him.

Amidst the extremely awkward silence and snickers, Lionel asked with a grin, "Minister, I have a small question—"

If I honestly pay the 500 franc fine, could the President's generous 'pardon' be extended to my next court appearance?

"puff--"

This time, even some reporters who could barely maintain a serious demeanor completely broke down.

Jules Kold had never suffered such humiliation! His face turned from purplish-red to ashen, and finally almost deathly pale.

He glared at Lionel, not wanting to stay a second longer: "Judge Bernal! Procedure! Complete it!"

Judge Bernard understood immediately, quickly picked up the gavel, and struck it down with all his might, as if to smash all the absurdity and embarrassment into that crisp sound.

"The court hearing is now adjourned! The defendant, Lionel Sorel, may leave at his own discretion!"

Court adjourned!

Before he could finish speaking, Minister Jules Kold stormed out of the courtroom without looking back; Prosecutor Alexander Dupont, his face ashen, hastily gathered his documents and staggered away.

Lionel turned to Jules Fayol, the lawyer standing beside him, who also wore a wry smile, and shook his hand firmly.

“Let’s go, Mr. Fayol.”

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When Lionel Sorel's figure reappeared beneath the towering arches of the Palais de Justice, bathed once more in the bright autumn sunlight of Paris...

The massive crowd gathered in the square erupted in an unprecedented, thunderous cheer.

"Lionel! Lionel! Lionel!"

Countless hats were thrown into the air, and arms were raised like a forest, waving handkerchiefs, scarves, and placards.

The sound waves rose higher and higher, as if they could shatter the ancient stone walls of the Palace of Justice.

"Long live freedom!"

Truth will prevail!

"We won!" The news spread like wildfire among the crowd.

Although most people were unaware of what happened inside the courtroom, they knew the most crucial outcome—

Lionel was not imprisoned, he was not exiled, he walked out with his head held high!
The public's emotions were completely released and satisfied at this moment.

What they saw was a hero returning victorious after single-handedly confronting tyranny!

Although Lionel explicitly opposed this simplistic emotional outburst in his speech on the steps about "superficiality" and "confession"—

But at this moment, he is safe and sound, which in the eyes of the people is a victory for justice and a symbol that the conscience of France has not been extinguished!

Lionel stood on the high steps, looking down at the boiling sea of ​​excited faces below.

The cheers hit him like a real shockwave.

He did not give any further speeches, but simply took off his hat, quickly greeted the crowd, and left with his friends.

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The following day, September 2, 1881, newspapers in Paris and throughout France were dominated by the same news.

Without exception, they all dedicated their front pages to yesterday's "trial of the century."

Its coverage, the size of its pages, and the sensationalism of its headlines constantly sting the nerves of all French people.

Le Figaro published an editorial entitled "The judiciary has become a laughing stock, and France and Simon are ashamed," and asked further questions:
[...After this battle, where is the credibility of the Republic's judiciary? What will become of France's reputation in the eyes of the civilized world?]

As the mouthpiece of radical republicans, *La Repubblica* launched an even more vehement attack, directly targeting royalists, clergy members, and high-ranking military officials, vividly describing how they colluded to overthrow the republic.
The article characterizes the trial as "a despicable offensive launched by all enemies of the Republic" and praises Lionel for "single-handedly thwarting their conspiracy and defending the spirit of the Republic."

The Uncompromising Daily and Wallace's Voice of the People closely linked it to class oppression:
Behold! The courts of the bourgeoisie serve only their sordid plunder!

They emphasized that Lionel's experience proved that the existing state apparatus served the interests of the ruling class, and called on the working class to draw strength from Lionel's struggle and recognize their common enemy.

Even the usually conservative newspapers, The Times and Le Gaul, were unable to defend anyone in this media storm.

The Times' headline carried a heavy sigh: "A Trial with No Winners"

The article acknowledges that the trial process was rife with "regrettable biases" and "incomprehensible absurdities," resulting in "serious damage to the nation's credibility."

Le Gaulle attempted to blame “provocations by certain radicals” and “inadequate government oversight,” but this explanation fell flat amidst a deluge of criticism.

Meanwhile, the headlines of popular newspapers such as *Le Petit Parisien* and *Le Petit Les Jude* were more accessible and easier to understand, and also more provocative:
"I plead guilty!"—How did Lionel Sorel plunge the courtroom into hell with just one sentence?

The pardon turns into a joke! The Attorney General flees the scene in disarray!

A Complete Record of a Legal Farce

Almost all reports, regardless of their political stance, reached a consensus: this trial was a major scandal in the history of the rule of law in the Third French Republic.

Jules Ferry, who had been on the defensive for several months, launched a counterattack in the final stage of his term as prime minister.

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In that familiar, secluded room in the Saint-Germain district, the atmosphere had plummeted to an even lower level.

Duke Giscard d'Montemorancy roared like a trapped beast: "Fools! A bunch of fools!"

Look at the kind of people you've hired! That slippery Bernard! And Dupont, that complete and utter loser! They've made a complete mess of things!

Now look what's happened! All the filth of Paris has been poured on us!

Count Patrice de Gramont retorted, "Montmorancy, what's the point of saying all this now? You didn't object when the decision was made to push for prosecution!"

Don't forget, your connections in the military also played a significant role in 'expressing concerns' to the judicial authorities!

The Duke of Montmorency was furious: "Express concern? I only wanted to uphold the honor of the army! Who knew it would turn out like this!"
"If those mobs knew our names, wouldn't they surround our mansion like they surrounded Sorel's villa?"

Victor Bonaparte sat in the shadows in the corner: "Panic solves nothing; the immediate priority is to distance ourselves."

Everyone who has had contact with Bernard and Dupont must give the same answer—

We have only expressed 'general concern' about the progress of the case and have not exerted any influence whatsoever.

They acted on their own initiative!

A member of parliament with close ties to the church shrieked, "Disclaim responsibility? Easy for you to say! What about Dipong's side?"
He's like a powder keg about to explode! He knows far too much!

These words sent a chill down the spines of everyone in the room.

Prosecutor Alexander Dupont, who was merely a tool in this situation, has now become the biggest hidden danger.

His disgrace is already a foregone conclusion. In despair and anger, what will he do?
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And reality did not disappoint them—

The afternoon after the trial ended, desperate prosecutor Alexandre Dupont placed a handwritten list on the Attorney General's desk.

(End of this chapter)