Lost in Translation? - Schopenhauer and the Murderer

Introduction

In Schopenhauer’s essay Ueber die Freiheit des menschlichen Willens (On the Freedom of the Human Will), we encounter an interesting anecdote involving a convicted murderer.

Quoting Schopenhauer:

A proof of this poetic presentation is furnished by the following parallel fact which also strongly confirms the theory of the constancy of character. It was reprinted from the French newspaper La Presse in the [London] Times of 2 July 1845, from which I translate it. The headline read: ‘Military Execution at Oran.’ On the 24th of March a Spaniard named Aguil[era], alias Gomez was condemned to death. On the day before the execution he said in conversation with the gaoler:

‘I am not as guilty as I have been represented,’ [said he;] ‘I am accused of having committed 30 murders, whilst I committed but 26. I had a thirst for blood from my infancy. At the age of 7 years and a half I stabbed a child. I murdered a pregnant woman, and at a later period I murdered a Spanish officer, in consequence of which I was compelled to fly from Spain. I took refuge in France, where I committed two crimes before I enlisted in the Foreign Legion. Of all my crimes, I regret the following more than all the others: — In 1841, I captured, at the head of my company, a deputy commissary-general, escorted by a sergeant, a corporal and 7 men, and I caused them all to be decapitated. Their death is a weight over me. I frequently see them in my dreams, and tomorrow I shall see them in the men appointed to shoot me; and, nevertheless, were I to recover liberty, I would murder others.’

The English passage cited above is the original version from The Times article, but in his essay Schopenhauer provides a German translation, which closely follows the English article. The final line is emphasized by Schopenhauer himself.

This anecdote is interesting for several reasons:

• It is a somewhat surprising and vivid episode to encounter in a philosophical work.
• It was added by Schopenhauer in a later edition and does not appear in earlier versions.
• There is a subtle issue with the anecdote: it is not entirely accurate in the form in which it appears in Schopenhauer’s text. Something was lost in translation from the original French article in La Presse to the English version published in The Times. Consequently, as we will see, the story does not really function as the “proof of the poetic representation” Schopenhauer claims.

In this weblog we will investigate some background of Schopenhauer’s quotation, a historical context, and the nuances introduced by translation.

The Story

France’s conquest of Algeria (begun in 1830) led to a protracted war against local forces led by Emir Abd el-Kader in the 1840s. The French Army, including units like the French Foreign Legion, was deployed across Algeria. The Foreign Legion attracted many foreign volunteers, among them Spanish political refugees and ex-soldiers from the Carlist Wars. These legionnaires were often hardened men, and disciplinary problems were not uncommon. By 1840 the Legion (then on its second formation) was engaged in brutal counterinsurgency campaigns in Algeria. This is the setting for the dramatic case of Jean-Jacques Aguilera, a Spanish-born legionnaire whose violent career and fate became notorious in both France and abroad.

Aguilera’s story unfolds against this backdrop of colonial conflict. French forces held coastal cities like Oran and Algiers, but Abd el-Kader’s guerrillas controlled the interior. Desertion to the enemy was a constant fear for French commanders, especially among foreign recruits. The case of Aguilera – involving desertion, atrocities, recapture, and a public execution – exemplified both the harsh measures of French military justice and the international fascination with such a lurid tale.

Jean-Jacques Aguilera—who also used the names Gómez and the Islamic alias Mustapha-ben-Abdallah—was a Spaniard who deserted to the Arabs from the French Foreign Legion in Algeria, led violent raids during the early 1840s, and openly boasted of at least 26 murders. Captured late in 1843, he was tried by a permanent council of war at Oran on 24 March 1845 and shot a few months later. The lurid confession he gave the night before his execution was printed in La Presse (Paris), translated in The Times of London (2 July 1845).

Article in La Presse

An online search reveals the original La Presse article published on 29 June 1845, which reached Schopenhauer via the English version in The Times published on 2 July 1845.

Below is a direct English translation of the La Presse article (the original French transcription is included in Appendix A):

MILITARY EXECUTION AT ORAN

On 24 March last, the first permanent divisional court-martial had sentenced to death the man named Aguilera, Jean-Jacques, called Gomez, called Mustapha-ben-Abdallah, former rifleman in the old Foreign Legion.

We shall briefly recall the facts of the case:

In the month of March 1840, out of fifty Spanish soldiers who were guarding the post of the Burned Farm near Kouba, about thirty revolted against the lieutenant, left him for dead—pierced with bayonet thrusts and with his head half burned in a brazier—then deserted to the Arabs. Aguilera was the leader of this desertion plot.

He was incorporated into the battalion of Sidi-Embareck, where he quickly rose to the rank of sergeant and then captain, and received two decorations: the first for having cut off the head of a wounded Frenchman on 16 May 1840 at Teniah, the second for his conduct in a combat against General Changarnier’s troops.

Aguilera was, according to the forceful expression of the witnesses, enraged against the French prisoners who tried to reach our outposts. The proceedings established that he had caused the death of seven Europeans, of whom four were French, and that he himself had cut off the heads of two of the latter.

In the month of October 1843, seeing the emir’s cause lost, he surrendered at Mascara, declaring that his name was Gomez, of Spanish origin, and that he had served the emir, to whom he had been sent by the emperor of Morocco. He gave some rather precise information on the emir’s position, and, to bind him more closely to our cause, he was placed as brigadier in the native cavalry of Oran under the name of Mustapha-ben-Abdallah, which he bore with the emir.

The trial of two Spanish prisoners taken in the fighting of 11 November 1843—where the emir’s last regular battalion was destroyed and where Sidi-Embareck who commanded it was killed—revealed that Gomez, called Mustapha-ben-Abdallah, was none other than the man Aguilera, leader of the Kouba desertion plot in 1840. He was sent to Algiers to undergo the judgment that had sentenced him to death in absentia in April 1840 for armed revolt against his chief. That judgment was confirmed, and Aguilera returned to Oran, where he was again condemned to death on 24 March last for desertion to the enemy and for having borne arms against France.

On Sunday 8 June, at five o’clock in the evening, Aguilera received notice that, on the report to the Minister of War, a royal decision had ordered that the judgment be carried out; he learned it without emotion. Some time later he was heard singing in his cell. At seven-thirty he saw enter M. Allaire, warder of the military prison, who keeps vigil with all those condemned to death. He sat on the straw beside the condemned man and shared his supper with him. Aguilera ate with good appetite and calmly smoked a cigar. Until one hour after midnight he talked with the warder:

“I am a great criminal,” he said, “but not as great as has been said: I have been accused of committing thirty murders; I committed only twenty-six. From childhood I had a taste for blood: at the age of seven and a half, at school, I struck a child with a knife; at twenty I disembowelled a pregnant woman; later I killed an officer, so I could not return to Spain. My head was likewise forfeit if I had gone back to the Arabs; France alone offered me an asylum, and even here I have already undergone two convictions before enlisting in the Foreign Legion. Of all my crimes, here is the one that troubles me most. In 1841, at the head of my company, I stopped a military quartermaster escorted by a sergeant, a corporal and seven men. I had them beheaded before his eyes. Their death weighs on me: very often I have seen them in my dreams, and tomorrow I shall recognise them in those who will shoot me. And see: even so, if I had kept my freedom, I would still kill.”

The next morning Aguilera received the consolations of religion; the warder visited him several times; at eight o’clock he came to breakfast with him. Aguilera ate with appetite. He was given little wine. After the meal he repeated his confessions of the night and added:

“Monsieur the warder, you have always been humane toward me, who am a wretch; I thank you by telling you that they will not kill me under my real name: I have changed it so often! … My name is Juan Gonzalez; I am the son of a Spanish colonel who, with seven or eight generals, was shot at Malaga at the same time as Torrijos el Valiente … There is a woman at Mostaganem to whom I made believe that I was her relation; I thus got more than 200 francs of hers.”

At ten-thirty he calculated that he had little time left to live, and from that moment his courage disappeared; he weakened visibly; a last interview with the priest robbed him even of the strength to stand.

Before leaving the prison, at noon, he asked for a few drops of brandy. He made the journey with difficulty as far as the Place des Carrières; on the way he drank three times; he was placed, pale and trembling in every limb, before the firing party. In the presence of the enormous crowd that had hurried up, eager to see the last moments of this wretch, he did not keep that stupid and artificial courage that sometimes sustains the condemned to the end. After the sentence was read, he fell, pierced by twelve bullets.

It is immediately apparent that the English translation in The Times—closely followed by Schopenhauer—is, in fact, a loose and imprecise rendering of the original French. I could not retrieve the original Times article, but the article in the Wellington Independent (published later, on 4 March 1846), appears to reproduce the same English translation, and contains for example the sentence:

In the month of October, 1843, seeing that the cause of the Emir was desperate, he proceeded to Mascara, declaring that his name was Gomez, that he was of Spanish origin, and that he had served the Emir, by whom he has been sent to Morocco.

Whereas the direct translation of the original French reads:

In the month of October 1843, seeing the emir’s cause lost, he surrendered at Mascara, declaring that his name was Gomez, of Spanish origin, and that he had served the emir, to whom he had been sent by the emperor of Morocco.

There is a significant difference between being sent to Morocco and being sent to the emir by the emperor of Morocco. This is just one of several inaccuracies found in the English translation; another, discussed later, directly impacts the validity of Schopenhauer’s usage of the anecdote.

Article Gazette des Tribunaux

Further details of Aguilera’s case can be found in an earlier French article in the Gazette des Tribunaux published on 15 April 1845. There we learn that Aguilera appears to be thirty years old and has a ferocious expression. One witness reported that Aguilera was enraged against the French, whom he ransomed mercilessly, and whom he shot when they attempted to defect from the emir’s service back to the French lines.

Below is a complete English translation of the article (the original French transcription is included in Appendix B):

FRENCH COLONIES

ALGERIA.

1st PERMANENT COUNCIL OF WAR SITTING IN ORAN.

Presidency of Mr. de Noue.

Hearing of March 24.

FOREIGN LEGION. — DESERTION TO THE ENEMY. — DEATH PENALTY.

The named Jean-Jacques Aguilera, called Gomez, called Mustapha-ben-Abdallah, already condemned to the death penalty by the 2nd permanent Council of war of Algiers, on October 31, 1844, appeared before the 1st permanent Council of war of the division of Oran, under the accusation of desertion to the enemy, and of having then taken service with the emir Abd-el-Kader.

The investigation revealed the following facts:

In the month of March 1840, a post of 50 men belonging to the foreign legion, and commanded by a captain and a lieutenant, was assigned to the guard of the Burned farm near Kouba. The major part of the post was composed of Spaniards who had taken refuge in France with Don Carlos; these men, who had been showing for several days their discontent at not having received a bonus of 50 francs, which they claimed had been promised to them at the time of their enlistment, seeing themselves then in number and out of reach of the French, resolved to desert to the enemy. The captain was sleeping; the lieutenant was walking in the redoubt. The named Cuesta struck him with several bayonet blows, one of which hit him in the lower belly and knocked him down. Aguilera seized him and held his head in a brazier, while Cuesta looked for ropes to tie him up. Some men of the post who had refused to take part in the plot were tied up and thrown over the redoubt into the ditch. Cuesta, Aguilera and their accomplices, numbering 24, managed, under cover of night, to reach the Arab outposts; the emir organized them into a company. — The following April 13, the 2nd permanent Council of war of the division of Algiers pronounced against the 26 Spanish deserters a condemnation to the death penalty by contumacy.

In the month of October 1843, a captain of regular infantry of Abd-el-Kader surrendered himself to Mr. lieutenant-colonel O’Keeffe, of the 56th of the line, who was commanding a column south of Mascara. He declared himself to be named Gomez, originally Spanish, and to have been sent to the emir by the emperor of Morocco, whom he had previously served as an officer. He gave some fairly precise information on the position of the emir, and asked to take service. He was welcomed, and to attach him more to our cause, he was placed as brigadier in the native cavalry of Oran, under the name of Mustapha-ben-Abdallah.

Among the prisoners made in the battle of last November 11, where Sidi-Embareck was killed, were several Europeans. They were presented to Gomez, who identified the named Ballesteros and Rodrigo as having deserted from the foreign legion, in the month of March 1840, and then having served with the emir, one as sergeant, and the other as corporal. These two men were sent to purge their contumacy, before the 2nd permanent Council of war of Algiers, which condemned them to ten years of irons, for complicity in revolt, and sent them back before the Council of war of Oran to be judged for the crime of desertion to the enemy.

The confrontation of Gomez with the accused then became indispensable; he persisted in his depositions. Ballesteros and Rodrigo then broke the silence they had kept until then, and declared that it was not surprising that Gomez recognized them, for he was none other than the named Aguilera, deserter, like them, from the foreign legion, and one of the principal instigators and actors of the plot of March 1840. Gomez wanted to deny it; but after an interrogation of eight hours, placed in the presence of former soldiers of the foreign legion, and trapped in his own arguments, he confessed everything, and was placed under arrest. Ballesteros and Rodrigo were condemned to death, a penalty which royal clemency commuted to that of hard labor for life; Gomez was transferred to Algiers, to purge before the 2nd Council of war the condemnation to the death penalty to which he had been condemned by contumacy on April 13, 1840.

This judgment was confirmed, and Gomez was sent back before the Council of war of Oran, on the benches of which he was appearing today under the accusation of having deserted to the enemy, and of having borne arms against France.

After the reading of the numerous documents of the procedure, Aguilera is brought in. He appears to be thirty years old; his look has something ferocious; he lowers his eyes before his judges. He admits to having deserted to the enemy, but he alleges for his defense the ignorance in which he was of the military laws, and especially the obligation in which he found himself to follow his comrades. If he bore arms against France, which earned him two decorations, he claims to have been forced to do so.

Five witnesses for the prosecution come to give overwhelming depositions against the accused.

The first heard is the named Dufer; he was taken prisoner at Kôuba in 1841; he was for some time under the orders of Aguilera, who almost split his head one day with a saber blow; he adds that Aguilera was enraged against the French, whom he ransomed mercilessly, and whom he had shot when they tried to leave the emir’s ranks to return to our outposts.

The second witness is the named Montagnac, ex-zouave. After the usual questions, the president asks him if he knows the accused. — A. That s… o… there! if I know him? my colonel, but he’s a scoundrel! How is he not hanged yet? he deserted from the French, he served with the emir, and he had five men shot in the same day…

Q. Accused, what do you reply to what the witness says? — A. What he says is false; he served like me in the enemy ranks; he was a sergeant in the emir’s troops.

Q. Witness, is it true that you also bore arms against France? — A. No, my colonel, I was taken prisoner; they know it in the regiment. I served Abd-el-Kader, but as a doctor… I was the emir’s doctor. (General hilarity, suddenly repressed by a gesture from Mr. president.)

Q. You were thus a doctor in France? — A. No, my colonel, I am a coachbuilder-saddler by trade; but I wanted to improve my position. (The witness withdraws.)

The third and fourth witnesses are the named Antas and Moynès: they testify in the same direction, and the accused replies with denials.

The fifth witness is the named Cusson.

Mr. president: Do you know the accused? — A. Yes

Q. How did you know him? — A. I was a prisoner with the Arabs, he served as a sergeant, and he was decorated.

Q. Do you know how he earned the cross? — A. Yes, it was by cutting off the head of a wounded Frenchman, on May 16, 1840, at Teniah.

Mr. president to the accused: You hear what the witness says; what do you reply? — A. The witness cannot know that, since nine months passed between the attack of Teniah and the month of February, when he saw me at the emir’s.

Mr. president: He may have heard it said by others.

The witness: I did not hear it said by others, but by the accused himself, who boasted of it loudly. (Strong sensation.)

The accused denies the fact.

The witness: Later, when he was named captain, I saw him again; he wore a second decoration he had earned in a battle against General Changarnier’s troops; he had a Frenchman shot who had tried to desert from his company, to rejoin our outposts; he had the weapon that was to finish him loaded twice before him; the named Ballesteros was designated for this execution, and carried it out reluctantly: but his head was at stake for his obedience.

In April 1843, five Europeans, of whom two were French, who had also tried to escape, were shot by his orders. They asked to command the fire; but Gomez said to them harshly: “French dogs are not worthy to command Muslims.” One of them not having been mortally wounded, Gomez finished him off with saber blows.

The accused replies with denials; it results nevertheless from the deposition of the witnesses that Aguilera called Gomez, called Mustapha-ben-Abdallah, is said to have caused the death of seven Europeans, of whom four were French, and to have himself cut off the heads of two of the latter.

Mr. the captain-rapporteur, after a rapid and succinct exposé of the facts of the case, corroborated in part by the confessions of the accused, concludes to the application of the penalty.

Mr. Aussénac, court-appointed defender, and who shared the indignation of the judges and of the audience, declares that his conscience obliges him to abandon the accused to the justice of the Council.

Mr. president, to whom one could not give too much praise for the enlightened impartiality with which he has directed these painful debates, declares that they are closed. After a few minutes of deliberation, the doors of the courtroom are opened to a large audience.

Mr. lieutenant-colonel de Noue reads, in the middle of a deep silence, the ruling which declares the named Aguilera, called Gomez, called Mustapha-ben-Abdallah, guilty of having deserted to the enemy, and of having then borne arms against France, and condemns him to the death penalty.

On learning his sentence, which is read to him by the captain-rapporteur, Aguilera shows no emotion. Informed that the law grants him a delay of twenty-four hours to seek a review, he replies: “I am quite calm in here.” Then he chats with the guard who escorts him back to prison.

The Timeline

Schopenhauer did not include the anecdote in the original 1838 edition of Ueber die Freiheit des menschlichen Willens. Nor did it appear in the immediately subsequent editions. It was first introduced in the 1860 edition.

The following timeline presents the key events surrounding Aguilera’s case alongside the publication history of Schopenhauer’s essay and related press coverage.

The Final Sentence

We now turn to the line emphasized by Schopenhauer, asking whether it really is a proof of the poetic representation as Schopenhauer says:

A proof of this poetic presentation is furnished by the following parallel fact which also strongly confirms the theory of the constancy of character. [Rest of anecdote about Aguilera]

The poetic representation to which is referred, can be found in Schopenhauer’s previous quote from St Ronan’s Well by Sir Walter Scott, containing the confession of a dying, repentant sinner on her deathbed:

… because even in my penitence there is a secret whisper that tells me, that were I as I have been, I would again act over all the wickedness I have done, and much worse.

It is a poetic representation of Schopenhauer’s thesis that human beings lack true freedom of the will and, as a particular instance of that thesis, that if someone should return to the state he was in the past, even after regretting his past behavior later, he would repeat exactly the same behavior.

Let us now examine the line emphasized by Schopenhauer in his German translation of The Times article. In Schopenhauer we have:

Nichtsdestoweniger würde ich, wenn ich meine Freiheit wieder erhielte, noch Andere morden.

This is a direct German translation from the original English that Schopenhauer used as source, as contained in the article in Wellington Independent:

and, nevertheless, were I to recover my liberty, I would murder others.

This statement serves as a factual—rather than a poetic—illustration (a “proof”) of the same instance of Schopenhauer’s thesis: that past behavior, even when followed by genuine repentance, will inevitably be repeated if one is placed once more in the same circumstances.

The retranslation in French of Schopenhauers (and the Times version) necessarily contains the same expression:

Et néanmoins, si je recouvrais ma liberté, j’en assassinerais d’autres encore.

Now, let us compare this with the original French in the article in La Presse:

The same text also appears in the article in Journal de La Haye:

The transcription of this original French text is:

Et voyez, cependant, je sens là que si j’eusse conservé ma liberté, je tuerais encore.

Is the English translation in The Times (and therefore the German translation of that English translation in Schopenhauer’s essay) faithful to the original French?

The clause si j’eusse conservé is a pluperfect subjunctive used after si in a counterfactual condition, commonly found in 19th-century French. It can be translated as if I had kept. The fragment je tuerais encore can be translated as I would still be killing. So the word encore in this fragment means still (and not again), i.e. the idea is continuity: his killings would be ongoing, not restarting after a pause.

Thus, a faithful English translation is:

And look—even so, I feel right here that if I had kept my freedom, I would still be killing.

Does this support Schopenhauer’s thesis?

Not quite. The original French suggests that, had nothing changed—had he never been captured or repented—he would still behave the same as he did before and would have continued to kill. It does not imply however that, if he was released that he would start killing again, even after feeling regrets. So it does not say anything about his future behavior, and leaves open the possibility that this behavior might have been changed, for example because of his current repentance.

Therefore, while the statement does not contradict Schopenhauer’s thesis, it also does not confirm it in the way Schopenhauer presents.

In conclusion, the version of the anecdote in Schopenhauer’s essay—supporting the thesis of immutable character—is based on a mistranslation which was introduced not by Schopenhauer himself, but by The Times.

Appendix A - Transcription of Article in La Presse in French

The transcription of the French text in the La Presse article:

EXÉCUTION MILITAIRE À ORAN

Le 24 mars dernier, le premier conseil de guerre permanent de la division avait condamné à mort le nommé Aguilera, Jean-Jacques, dit Gomez, dit Mustapha-ben-Abdallah, ex-fusilier à l’ancienne légion étrangère.

Nous rappellerons succinctement les faits de la cause :

Au mois de mars 1840, sur 50 soldats espagnols qui gardaient le poste de la ferme brûlée près de Kouba, une trentaine se révoltèrent contre le lieutenant, le laissèrent pour mort, percé de coups de baïonnette et la tête à moitié brûlée dans un brasier, puis désertèrent aux Arabes. Aguilera était le chef de ce complot de désertion.

Il fut incorporé dans le bataillon de Sidi-Embareck, où il parvint rapidement au grade de sergent, puis à celui de capitaine, et reçut deux décorations, la première pour avoir tranché la tête à un Français blessé le 16 mai 1840 au Teniah, la seconde, pour sa conduite dans un combat contre les troupes du général Changarnier.

Aguilera était, selon l’expression énergique des témoins, enragé contre les Français prisonniers qui tentaient de rejoindre nos avant-postes. Les débats ont établi qu’il avait fait mourir sept Européens dont quatre Français, et qu’il avait lui-même tranché la tête à deux de ces derniers.

Au mois d’octobre 1843, voyant la cause de l’émir perdue, il se rendit à Mascara, déclarant qu’il s’appelait Gomez, originaire espagnol, et qu’il avait servi l’émir, auquel il avait été envoyé par l’empereur du Maroc. Il donna quelques renseignements assez précis sur la position de l’émir, et, pour l’attacher davantage à notre cause, il fut placé en qualité de brigadier dans la cavalerie indigène d’Oran, sous le nom de Mustapha-ben-Abdallah, qu’il portait chez l’émir.

Le procès de deux prisonniers espagnols, faits au combat du 11 novembre 1843, où fut détruit le dernier bataillon régulier de l’émir et où fut tué Sidi-Embareck qui le commandait, fit connaître que Gomez, dit Mustapha-ben-Abdallah, n’était autre que le nommé Aguilera, chef du complot de désertion à Kouba en 1840. On l’envoya à Alger pour purger le jugement qui l’avait condamné à mort par contumace au mois d’avril 1840, pour révolte à main armée contre son chef. Ce jugement fut confirmé, et Aguilera revint à Oran, où il fut condamné de nouveau à la peine de mort le 24 mars dernier, pour désertion à l’ennemi et pour avoir porté les armes contre la France.

Dimanche 8 juin, à cinq heures du soir, Aguilera reçut l’avis que, sur le compte-rendu à M. le ministre de la guerre, une décision royale avait ordonné que le jugement recevrait son exécution : il l’apprit sans émotion. Quelque temps après, on l’entendit chanter dans son cachot. À sept heures et demie, il vit entrer M. Allaire, concierge de la prison militaire, qui fait la veillée à tous les condamnés à mort. Il s’assit sur la paille, a coté du condamné, partagea son souper avec lui. Aguilera mangea de bon appétit et fuma tranquillement un cigare. Jusqu’à une heure après-minuit, il s’entretint avec le concierge :

« Je suis un grand coupable, dit-il, mais pas autant qu’on l’a dit: on m’a accusé d’avoir commis trente assassinats; je n’en ai commis que 26. J’avais dès l’enfance le goût du sang: à l’âge de sept ans et demi, à l’école, je frappai un enfant d’un coup de couteau, à vingt ans, j’éventrai une femme enceinte; plus tard, je tuai un officier; aussi ne pouvais-je rentrer en Espagne. Ma tête était également compromise, si j’étais retourné chez les Arabes; la France seule m’offrait un asile, et déjà j’y ai subi deux condamnations avant de m’engager dans la légion étrangère. De tous mes crimes, voici celui qui m’inquiète le plus. En 1841, j’arrêtai, à la tête de ma compagnie, un sous-intendant militaire, escorté par un sergent, un caporal et sept hommes. Je les fis décapiter sous ses yeux. Leur mort me pèse: bien souvent je les ai vus dans mes rêves, et demain je les reconnaîtrai dans ceux qui me fusilleront. Et voyez: cependant, ce n’est pas là que si j’eusse conservé ma liberté, je tuerais encore. »

Le lendemain matin, Aguilera reçut les consolations de la religion: le concierge le visita plusieurs fois; à huit heures il vint déjeuner avec lui. Aguilera mangea avec appétit. On lui donna peu de vin. Après le repas il répéta sui aveux de la nuit, et ajouta :

« Monsieur le concierge, vous avez toujours été humain pour moi qui suis un misérable, je vous remercie en vous disant qu’ils ne me tueront pas sous mon vrai nom: j’en ai changé si souvent !… Je m’appelle Juan Gonzalez; je suis fils d’un colonel espagnol, qui, avec sept ou huit généraux, a été fusillé à Malaga, en même temps que Torrijos el Valiente… Il y a une femme à Mostaganem, à qui j’ai fait croire que j’étais son parent; je lui ai ainsi mangé (mandé[?]) plus de 200 fr. »

À 10 heures et demie, il calcula qu’il lui restait peu de temps à vivre, et de ce moment son courage disparut; il faiblissait à vue d’œil; une dernière entrevue avec le prêtre lui ôta jusqu’à la force de se tenir debout.

Avant de sortir de la prison, à midi, il demanda quelques gouttes d’eau-de-vie. Il a fait avec peine le trajet jusqu’à la place des Carrières: en route, il a bu trois fois, il a été placé pâle et tremblant de tous ses membres devant le piquet d’exécution. En présence de la foule immense qui était accourue, avide de voir les derniers momens de ce misérable, il n’a pas gardé ce stupide et factice courage que conservent quelque fois les condamnés, jusqu’au bout. Après la lecture du jugement, il est tombé percé de douze balles.

Appendix B - Transcription of Article in Gazette des Tribunaux in French

The transcription of the French text in the Gazette des Tribunaux article:

COLONIES FRANÇAISES ALGÉRIE. 1ᵉ CONSEIL DE GUERRE SÉANT À ORAN. Présidence de M. de Noue. Audience du 24 mars. LÉGION ÉTRANGÈRE. — DÉSERTION À L’ENNEMI. — PEINE DE MORT.

Le nommé Jean-Jacques Aguilera, dit Gomez, dit Mustapha-ben-Abdallah, déjà condamné à la peine de mort par le 2ᵉ Conseil de guerre permanent d’Alger, le 31 octobre 1844, a comparu devant le 1ᵉ Conseil de guerre permanent de la division d’Oran, sous l’accusation de désertion à l’ennemi, et d’avoir ensuite pris du service chez l’émir Abd-el-Kader.

L’information a révélé les faits suivans :

Au mois de mars 1840, un poste de 50 hommes appartenant à la légion étrangère, et commandé par un capitaine et un lieutenant, était préposé à la garde de la ferme Brûlée près de Kouba. La majeure partie du poste était composée d’Espagnols réfugiés en France avec don Carlos ; ces hommes, qui manifestaient depuis quelques jours leur mécontentement de n’avoir point reçu une prime de 50 francs, qu’ils prétendaient leur avoir été promise lors de leur enrôlement, se voyant alors en nombre et hors de portée des Français, résolurent déserter à l’ennemi. Le capitaine dormait ; le lieutenant se promenait dans la redoute. Le nommé Cuesta lui porta plusieurs coups de baïonnette, dont l’un l’atteignit au bas-ventre et le renversa. Aguilera le saisit et lui tint la tête dans un brasier, pendant que Cuesta cherchait des cordes pour le garrotter. Quelques hommes du poste qui avaient refusé de faire partie du complot furent garrottés et jetés par-dessus la redoute dans le fossé. Cuesta, Aguilera et leurs complices, au nombre de 24, parvinrent, à la faveur de la nuit, à gagner les avant-postes arabes ; l’émir les organisa en une compagnie. — Le 13 avril suivant, le 2ᵉ Conseil de guerre permanent de la division d’Alger prononçait contre les 26 Espagnols déserteurs une condamnation à la peine de mort par contumace.

Au mois d’octobre 1843, un capitaine d’infanterie régulière d’Abd-el-Kader se rendit à M. le lieutenant-colonel O’Keeffe, du 56ᵉ de ligne, qui commandait une colonne au sud de Mascara. Il déclara se nommer Gomez, originaire Espagnol, et avoir été envoyé auprès de l’émir, par l’empereur du Maroc, qu’il servait auparavant en qualité d’officier. Il donna quelques renseignements assez précis sur la position de l’émir, et demanda à prendre du service. Il fut accueilli, et pour l’attacher davantage à notre cause, il fut placé en qualité de brigadier dans la cavalerie indigène d’Oran, sous le nom de Mustapha-ben-Abdallah.

Parmi les prisonniers faits au combat du 11 novembre dernier, où fut tué Sidi-Embareck, se trouvaient plusieurs Européens. Ils furent présentés à Gomez, qui désigna les nommés Ballesteros et Rodrigo pour avoir déserté de la légion étrangère, au mois de mars 1840, et avoir ensuite servi chez l’émir, l’un en qualité de sergent, et l’autre comme caporal. Ces deux hommes furent envoyés pour purger leur contumace, par devant le 2ᵉ Conseil de guerre permanent d’Alger, qui les condamna à dix années de fers, pour complicité de révolte, et les renvoya devant le Conseil de guerre d’Oran pour être jugés sur le crime de désertion à l’ennemi.

La confrontation de Gomez avec les accusés devint alors indispensable ; il persista dans ses dépositions. Ballesteros et Rodrigo rompirent alors le silence qu’ils avaient gardé jusque-là, et déclarèrent qu’il n’était pas étonnant que Gomez les reconnût, car il n’était autre que le nommé Aguilera, déserteur, comme eux, de la légion étrangère, et l’un des principaux moteurs et acteurs du complot de mars 1840. Gomez voulut nier ; mais après un interrogatoire de huit heures, mis en présence d’anciens soldats de la légion étrangère, et enveloppé dans ses propres arguments, il avoua tout, et fut mis en état d’arrestation. Ballesteros et Rodrigo furent condamnés à mort, peine que la clémence royale commua en celle des travaux forcés à perpétuité ; Gomez fut transféré à Alger, pour purger par devant le 2ᵉ Conseil de guerre la condamnation à la peine de mort à laquelle il avait été condamné par contumace le 13 avril 1840.

Ce jugement fut confirmé, et Gomez fut renvoyé devant le Conseil de guerre d’Oran, sur les bancs duquel il comparaissait aujourd’hui sous l’accusation d’avoir déserté à l’ennemi, et d’avoir porté les armes contre la France.

Après la lecture des nombreuses pièces de la procédure, Aguilera est introduit. Il paraît avoir trente ans ; son regard a quelque chose de féroce ; il baisse les yeux devant ses juges. Il avoue avoir déserté à l’ennemi, mais il allègue pour sa défense l’ignorance dans laquelle il était des lois militaires, et surtout l’obligation où il se trouvait de suivre ses camarades. S’il a porté les armes contre la France, ce qui lui a valu deux décorations, il prétend y avoir été forcé.

Cinq témoins à charge viennent faire contre l’accusé des dépositions accablantes.

Le premier entendu est le nommé Dufer ; il a été fait prisonnier à Kôuba en 1841 ; il a été quelque temps sous les ordres d’Aguilera, qui faillit un jour lui fendre la tête d’un coup de sabre ; il ajoute qu’Aguilera était enragé contre les Français, qu’il rançonnait impitoyablement, et qu’il les faisait fusiller lorsqu’ils tentaient de quitter les rangs de l’émir pour regagner nos avant-postes.

Le second témoin est le nommé Montagnac, ex-zouave. Après les questions d’usage, le président lui demande s’il connaît l’accusé. — R. Ce j… f… là ! si je le connais ? mon colonel, mais c’est un scélérat ! Comment n’est-il pas encore pendu ? il a déserté des Français, il a servi chez l’émir, et il a fait fusiller cinq hommes dans la même journée…

D. Accusé, qu’avez-vous à répondre à ce que dit le témoin ? — R. Ce qu’il dit est faux ; il a servi comme moi dans les rangs ennemis ; il a été sergent dans les troupes de l’émir.

D. Témoin, est-il vrai que vous avez aussi porté les armes contre la France ? — R. Non, mon colonel, j’ai été fait prisonnier ; on le sait dans le régiment. J’ai servi Abd-el-Kader, mais comme médecin… j’étais médecin de l’émir. (Hilarité générale, subitement réprimée par un geste de M. le président.)

D. Vous étiez donc médecin en France? — R. Non, mon colonel, je suis sellier-carrossier de mon état ; mais je voulais améliorer ma position. (Le témoin se retire.)

Le troisième et le quatrième témoins sont les nommés Antas et Moynès : ils déposent dans le même sens, et l’accusé répond par des dénégations.

Le cinquième témoin est le nommé Cusson.

M. le président : Connaissez-vous l’accusé ? — R. Oui

D. Comment l’avez-vous connu ? — R. J’étais prisonnier aux Arabes, il servait en qualité de sergent, et il était décoré.

D. Savez-vous comment il gagna la croix ? — R. Oui, c’est en tranchant la tête à un Français blessé, le 16 mai 1840, au Teniah.

M. le président à l’accusé : Vous entendez ce que dit le témoin ; qu’avez-vous à répondre ? — R. Le témoin ne peut savoir cela, puisqu’il s’est écoulé neuf mois depuis l’attaque du Teniah jusqu’au mois de février, époque où il me vit chez l’émir.

M. le président : Il peut l’avoir entendu dire par d’autres.

Le témoin : Je n’ai rien entendu dire par d’autres, mais bien par l’accusé lui-même, qui s’en vantait hautement. (Vive sensation.)

L’accusé nie le fait.

Le témoin : Plus tard, lorsqu’il fut nommé capitaine, je le revis ; il portait une seconde décoration qu’il avait gagnée dans un combat contre les troupes du général Changarnier ; il fit fusiller un Français qui avait tenté de déserter de sa compagnie, pour rejoindre nos avant-postes ; il fit amorcer deux fois et recharger ensuite devant lui, l’arme qui devait l’achever ; le nommé Ballesteros fut désigné pour cette exécution, et s’en acquitta à regret : mais sa tête répondait de son obéissance.

Au mois d’avril 1843, cinq Européens, dont deux Français, qui avaient aussi tenté de s’échapper, furent fusillés par ses ordres. Ils demandèrent à commander le feu ; mais Gomez leur dit durement : « Des chiens de Français ne sont pas dignes de commander à des Musulmans. » L’un d’eux n’ayant pas été blessé mortellement, Gomez l’acheva à coups de sabre.

L’accusé répond par des dénégations ; il résulte néanmoins de la déposition des témoins qu’Aguilera dit Gomez, dit Mustapha-ben-Abdallah, aurait fait mourir sept Européens, dont quatre Français, et aurait lui-même tranché la tête à deux de ces derniers.

M. le capitaine-rapporteur, après un exposé rapide et succinct des faits de la cause, corroborés en partie par les aveux de l’accusé, conclut à l’application de la peine.

M. Aussénac, défenseur d’office, et qui a partagé l’indignation des juges et de l’auditoire, déclare que sa conscience l’oblige à abandonner l’accusé à la justice du Conseil.

M. le président, auquel on ne saurait donner trop d’éloges pour l’impartialité éclairée avec laquelle il a dirigé ces pénibles débats, déclare qu’ils sont clos. Après quelques minutes de délibération, les portes de l’audience sont ouvertes à un nombreux auditoire.

M. le lieutenant-colonel de Noue lit, au milieu d’un profond silence, l’arrêt qui déclare le nommé Aguilera, dit Gomez, dit Mustapha-ben-Abdallah, coupable d’avoir déserté à l’ennemi, et d’avoir ensuite porté les armes contre la France, et le condamne à la peine de mort.

En apprenant sa condamnation, qui lui est lue par le capitaine rapporteur, Aguilera ne manifeste aucune émotion. Averti que la loi lui accorde un délai de vingt-quatre heures pour se pourvoir en révision, il répond : « Je suis bien tranquille là-dedans. » Puis il cause avec la garde qui le reconduit à la prison.