THE WILSON TRIAL.
NEVER has a more sordid spectacle of middle-class corruptian been presented to the world than that which has been daring the past week unfolded day by day in the French Criminal Courts. The chief persons in this despicable tragi-comedy of "The Traffic in Decorations" have been paraded before the public in a kind of squalid pageant. The action throughout has centred in the person of M. Wilson. The charges against M. Wilson are of the most contemptible kind. In most modern scandals of this sort, the great man has not been accused of doing more than allowing his entourage to sell favours and to cheat in his name. M. Wilson is charged with trafficking directly in decorations. The public will best under- stand the manner in which the offence is alleged to have been com- mitted if we give some account of the actual accusations which close the indictment, that extraordinary instrument of French justice in which the story of the crime is told with all the artifices of the professional novelist. M. Wilson is accused of being during three years the accomplice in the acts of swindling committed by Rilagudeau, Dubreuil, and Herbert, to the injury of Crespin de la Jeanniere, first by promoting the above offence by gifts or promises, or by giving instructions for its committal ; and secondly, in knowingly receiving the whole or part of the money obtained from Crespin de la Seanniere. Another count follows, accusing M. Wilson of a similar offence in respect of Moe ; and a third series of accusations is added, relative to another conspiracy for the sale of decorations in which the accomplice was Madame Rattazzi and the victim Legrand. The immense length to which the trial has extended, and the way in which the witnesses have been allowed to drag all sorts of irrelevant matter into their testimony, have rendered it im- possible to set forth the evidence shortly in an intelligible shape. We shall therefore not attempt to follow the evidence at length, but shall content ourselves with giving some account of the way in which the extraordinary dramatis persome of the trial behaved themselves in court, and during the course of events which led to the prosecution. They are a strange and unlovely crew enough.
There is M. Wilson, with his vast collection of 22,000 dossiers, containing the names of all the applicants for his favours since 1869, with his good marks against those who subscribe to his regiment of newspapers, and with his office at the Elysee for the bestowal of honours and decorations. Then Ribaudeau, the dark, quick-witted, dapper little agent, running to, the Elysee to introduce the wealthy tradesman whose heart is set on getting the red ribbon, and to claim his commission on the transaction. So respectable and so businesslike a man is Ribaudeau, that he is horrified at the idea that the Cross of the Legion of Honour can be bought, when, in truth, all that is up for sale is "the next turn for official favours." He is intimate with M. Wilson, and has the entrée of the Elysee. He does not, however, himself " tout " for orders, but employs a subordinate, Dubreuil—a kind of traveller in Crosses, whose business it is to find purchasers, and introduce them to Ribaudeau, who in turn passes them on to M. Wilson—a scheme which, it may be noticed, has its advantages, since M. Wilson never himself comes in contact with the man who has "quoted the price." Dubreuil, the impudent, bold-faced, self-dubbed nobleman, with his blonde moustache, his fine clothes, and his general air "of the well-to-do commercial traveller," is absolutely unrivalled in the part he has to play. He admits a previous conviction, or a moral slip, with genial good- humour. He half patronises the Judge, half licks his shoes, bat never loses his temper for a moment, and dismisses any unpleasant piece of evidence with the airy rejoinder,—" It's all a romance." Dubreuil's manner in the witness-box has never
been equalled for pure effrontery. He turns an unpleasant question, or puts the best face on an awkward episode in his past career, with sublime indifference. Asked by the President of the Court whether he has not been twice con- demned, he replied,—" No, Sir, I have been the victim of the Jews, who have injured me as they have injured the whole of France." Yet, as a matter of fact, he has been imprisoned for various offences, and amongst others for taking the sham title of nobility which, throughout his evidence, he insists on as his due. He is M. le Comte dia Breuil,—though if he is to be condemned, it shall be, for the honour of his race, under the name Dubreuil. When Dubreuil is examined as to his parentage, and as to the statement of the Mayor of his native village describing his father as an artisan and himself as of no great account, he loftily remarks of the said Mayor, " Oh! he is a carpenter,—our old family carpenter," and deplores that evidence should not have been obtained from people of better position. Dubreuil's chief coup in procuring people to buy the Legion of Honour consisted in the getting hold of a certain Crespin la Jeanniere, ex-naval engineer, who had made a fortune by inventions. To this man he suggested that he could obtain the coveted red ribbon on the payment of a sum of money, and accordingly intro- duced him to Ribacideau and Wilson. His explanation of the event, however, runs as follows. Dubreuil told the Court how, becoming aware of Crespin la Jeanniere's deeds of heroism while in the Navy, he told him that he deserved to be decorated. "This I expressed to him," he goes on, "with a certain Southern exaggeration—though, as a matter of fact, I am not a Southerner= Who but the brave Jeanniere deserves the cross of the brave?'" Pleased with this perform- ance, Dubreuil went on to state that he is a Monarchist, and so on the opposite side to M. Wilson, whom he had never seen except in the dock, and therefore he could not be sup- posed to have had anything to do with him. Pressed whether he had not told Crespin that a certain sum must be spent to obtain a decoration, he indignantly denied it, but said he had declared that certain sacrifices must be made, and that he had recommended expenditure on some work of public utility, such as M. Wilson's paper, Le Moniteur de l'Exposition. Dubreuil's relations with Crespin seem to have been curious enough. "Forget that you are Crespin, and be only La Jeanniere," was, he tells us, his advice to his friend, who, in the usual way, had changed plain Crespin into Crespin la Jeanniere. Dubreuil had also been the means of introducing a rich banker, Belloc, to M. Wilson's agent, Ribaudeau. His account of the introduction is impudent enough. He did not introduce Ribaudeau in order to sell decorations, but to make a certain contract. "It is true they talked about decorations when he made the introductions, but then that was only as a preface. One could not plunge neck and crop into contracts." Dalareuil's remarks on the pre- liminary examinations to which he had been subjected were very amusing. He refused entirely to be bound by them. "You don't know the value of such evidence," he told the Judge ; "you were never arrested ; but if you had been, you would know that a man under arrest is not his own master ; he says what is expected of him just to satisfy the Judge, who gives him hopes that all will go well. Besides, in my case, I was shut up in the office of the Judge without anything to eat from 8 o'clock in the morning till-midnight. For a dinner I would have admitted that I had stolen the towers of Notre Dame. Besides, the clerk wrote so vilely that the words one used in one sense were reproduced by him with an exactly opposite meaning." M. Crespin de la Jeanniere, the victim of Dubreuil, is a very strange figure. Dubreuil told the Court that he had remarked, when introducing him to Ribaudeau,—" Hero is a client who, no doubt, has not much learning [Crespin could hardly write], but who is a brave fellow." He seems, indeed, to have some- thing of the knowing old salt about him, for the descriptions of the trial dwell on the clever way in which he baffled his cross- examiners. Crespin's account of the transactions seems plain and straightforward enough. These are the steps in his pro- gress towards the Cross and the Court. He becomes acquainted with Dubreuil, Dubreuil introduces him to Ribaudeau, who takes him to the Elysee, where he sees M. Wilson. M. Wilson promises to press his claims for the Legion of Honour, but as he is going away, says,—" You must help my newspaper." Crespin asks Ribaudeau what this means, who replies that it means helping to bear a part of the expense of the Monitetir de l'Exposition. Two days later, Creapin gets a letter from Dubreuil saying that the Cross will cost E6,000. Crespin is indignant, and declares to Ribaudeau that he will never do such a thing as buy an honour. Ribaudeau assures him that he is mistaken, that a million would not buy the Cross for a man who had not got a claim, but that he, Crespin, has got a claim. All that is wanted is to get "his turn for the grant of the favour." After this, Crespin thinks he has no right to refuse the aid of Ribaudeau and his patron, M. Wilson, and signs an engagement to give £800 towards the Moniker de rEsposition. Another character in this strange medley of swindlers, and dupes almost as base as the swindlers, is Madame Rattazzi. This lady, it may be remembered, was mixed up in the former decoration scandals. She does not seem to have been content, however, with one sphere of action, but had dealings as well with M. Wilson's firm, where she introduced people, taking, we may suppose, the usual com- mission. Into the details of her ease we cannot go, but the kind of part she seems to have played does not throw a very pleasing light on modern French society.
It would be impossible to deal at any greater length with the details of the trial which has filled half the space of the French papers for six days and more, or to treat of all the characters of the drama. A word, however, should be said of the one honest man who appears in the whole proceeding—a certain M. Delizy—who the moment he discovered what were the conditions under which the Cross of the Legion of Honour was to be obtained, indignantly refused to go on with the negotiations. His wife, who was managing the application, which is usual and legitimate, when she discovered the meaning of certain of M. Wilson's words, broke forth with the exclama- tion,—" Are the Crosses granted, or are they sold I" "They are not sold," replied M. Wilson, "but the Government is in want of money." The cross-examination of M. Delizy brought out a statement that M. Wilson had himself asked for money for his newspaper. "Give us £8,000; you and I will be the only persons who will know of the transaction." The whole of M. Delizy's evidence seems to point to the truth of the Judge's remark,—" You, Sir, who were the only honest man in the whole of this business, and the only one deserving the Cross, are the person who has failed to get it." Though the trial has produced a very painful effect in showing the growth of some of the worst and most sordid forms of political corrup- tion, the exposure can hardly fail to do good. After such a fall as that of M. Wilson, a man will have to be very reckless, or very confident in his confederates, to attempt any tampering with the distribution of public honours.
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