It is very difficult to fit all the accomplishments of a man like Alphonse Bertillon into a single article. Despite this fact, almost nothing is written about his personal life, outside of his involvement with the Dreyfus affair.
I have found only one source which covers his early life in detail: A book written in 1955 entitled 'Alphonse Bertillon: Father of Scientific Detection', by Henry T. F. Rhodes. Wonderfully written and engaging, Rhodes' book is a veritable treasure trove of information for anyone seeking to learn more about the man who laid the groundwork for every detective novel and police procedural created since – not to mention the actual forensic principals used by every police department in the world.
Early roots in Anthropometry
Despite his fame, it was not Bertillon who invented Anthropometric study. He inherited it from his father, Louis-Adolphe, and his grandfather, Achille Guillard; Louis-Adolphe's father-in-law, but it was Bertillon who refined it for practicality. During his childhood and later in life, Anthropometry - the study of mathematically organizing the measurements of the human body - was his one true passion. Even as a child, while having no interest in formal study whatsoever, he was fascinated by the instruments his father and grandfather used to measure the human form. Bertillon's contribution in this field was not the measurements themselves, but a standardized method of fitting what his father and grandfather saw as a purely scientific pursuit into simple and practical use.
Bertillon's early life
Bertillon's life appears as a series of consecutive failures which led to one single brilliant success. His mother wanted him to be named 'Alfred', but his father forgot the name in his excitement on his way to the registry, and so, Alphonse Bertillon began his life under the wrong name. He was a sickly child, and his poor health followed him from his birth on April 24th, 1853, to his death on February 13th, 1914, at the age of sixty. He was a middle child, with an older brother named Jacques, and a younger brother named Georges. His ill-health and his position in the family likely contributed to his often-contrary temperament.
He was kicked out of multiple boarding schools for disruptive behavior, and when his father, Louis-Adolphe Bertillon, hired a private tutor, Bertillon plagued the near-sighted tutor by stealing his glasses and disappearing while the poor tutor futilely searched for them. Despite his scholastic failures, Bertillon somehow managed to pass his baccalauréat at twenty, and although he did not pass it with the distinction his father had hoped, who was himself a doctor and one of the leading experts of Anthropometric study, this small success did give Bertillon's father some glimmer of hope for his troublesome son.
Banished to England
After gaining a flicker of hope from Bertillon passing his baccalauréat, Bertillon's father got him a position as a junior clerk in a bank. Unfortunately, although Bertillon was absolutely fastidious regarding his attire, his handwriting and behavior was not so. Bertillon had from his childhood been sardonic and lacking in tact, though he was never cruel or unsympathetic. After a quick dismissal from the bank for his atrocious handwriting and attitude, Bertillon's father had finally reached his last straw, and Bertillon was shipped off to England to fend for himself, away from his family and without any financial support. This shock finally stirred Bertillon into action. He spoke no English, but communicating mostly by signs, was able to gain a position as a French language teacher. It is beyond doubt that Bertillon's success in learning English was far better than his success in teaching French, but it did help to refine his sharp edges somewhat, and if he had not been called back to France by an army commission, it is likely he would have stayed in England as a French tutor, and disappeared into anonymity, but God had other plans.
The Reluctant Clerk
After serving his time in the French Army, Bertillon found himself once again without any job prospects, and begged his father to find him an appointment. Bertillon's father, who was not unsympathetic to his wayward son's troubles, got him a job as a clerk for the Paris Prefecture, copying forms. Bertillon hated it, but his writing improved from repetition. The forms Bertillon filled out were practically useless, and his handwriting was less bothersome than it had been for his supervisors at the bank. Still, the absolute uselessness of the forms chafed Bertillon to action. He saw that the method for identifying repeat offenders was useless at best, and cruel at worst. It was here that he began to utilize his father's methods to devise a system even the simplest policeman could easily understand and implement.
Unfortunately, Bertillon's skill at presenting his ideas was woefully lacking, and although the prefect at that time, Louis Andrieux, gave him an honest hearing, by the end of Bertillon's long and incoherent presentation, Andrieux honestly thought him rather insane. The baffled prefect said as much in a letter to Bertillon's father, who took it as the final straw which broke any hope of his son achieving a successful career. The senior Bertillon confronted his son about it, but unlike Andrieux, the elder Bertillon immediately saw the value in his son's discovery. Louis-Adolphe was more socially adept than his son, and knew the value in waiting for a prefect who was more favorable to scientific methods. The skill of diplomacy was one Bertillon never learned, but his father convinced him to wait until Camecasse became prefect, and use the time to prepare. Bertillon organized his idea into something more practical, while his father used all his influence as President of the Anthropological Society to rally other scientific minds to their cause.
The First Success
Prefect Camecasse received Bertillon's baffling presentation with the same bewilderment as his predecessor, but he was willing to give the young clerk a chance to prove himself. Bertillon was given three months and two clerks, and if he could positively identify a person by body measurements alone, the topic would be revisited. It was at this time that Bertillon met his future wife, Amélie Notar, an Austrian immigrant. Without her help, Bertillon would never have succeeded. Within three months she helped him catalog 7,336 measurements, and in February of 1883, only a few days before the deadline was up, they met with success. There was a celebration, and although Bertillon's father died only a few days later, he was granted the chance to see this first glimpse of the many victories to come.
As more identities were registered into Bertillon's system, his success grew. By 1893, when the fictional events of Grayscale take place, Bertillon's system had over seven million entries. This system was not Bertillon's greatest contribution, however: While the Bertillon system of measurement was eventually superseded by fingerprints, it was the Bertillon methodology of science practically applied that laid the foundation for all types of forensic science. He not only standardized a reliable system of identification but also standardized the process of photography. His invention of the portrait parlé – the 'speaking portrait, or more
commonly called a 'mugshot' – has
provided invaluable use, but this was not all: Bertillon saw photography as the investigator's greatest tool, and rightly so. He was unquestionably the world's expert of photography during his lifetime, and developed ways of accurately and clearly photographing crime scenes and small pieces of evidence without distortion. Often known as 'the fingerprint man', Bertillon never believed fingerprints were a reliable method of identification, preferring his own system, which had ample proof of its reliability, but he could certainly be called the Father of Forensics.
The Dreyfus Affair
Bertillon's involvement in the Dreyfus affair, which began in 1894, and lasted through 1906 and beyond, is complicated, and is a strange anomaly in what is otherwise a consistent record of reliance on facts. Bertillon loathed speculation, and it is possible that intense social pressure pushed him into an area of investigation in which he had no practical experience. He was not a handwriting expert by any means, and his wild speculations regarding the Bordereau are quite at odds with his general character. He was certainly not the only person to believe in Alfred Dreyfus' guilt. Paris faced a practical civil war over the trial, but Bertillon held to his belief in Dreyfus' guilt even after Dreyfus was exonerated. This fact, coupled with his entire lack of social graces and the general opinion that he was at least somewhat insane, turned him into the obvious scapegoat, and his countless contributions to society were sadly overshadowed by this messy trial, which even today is still debated. No one truly knows who wrote the Bordereau.
This ugly trial turned Bertillon into even more of a hermit. His staff within the Department of Judicial Identity loved him, but outsiders – especially those who had found themselves on the receiving end of his harsh sarcasm and blunt rudeness – viewed him with less favor. In Grayscale, and the subsequent books in the Callahan Chronicles, I have attempted to portray Alphonse Bertillon accurately. Though Fournier is an entirely fictional character, he reflects the many policemen and inspectors who saw the value of Bertillon's work. By 1893, when the events of Grayscale are placed, Bertillon's work had enough proof behind it to speak for itself, and a large percentage of the police-force saw the value in his methods, rather than the harsh skepticism which most of the police force retain in my novel, years after Bertillon's system has been put in place. However, there would have still been some holdouts, clinging to the old system, and these often faced the sardonic fury of the otherwise polite Bertillon.
The Rude Gentleman
Throughout his life, Bertillon was always careful and polite when dealing with anyone below his social status but was blunt and severe with his equals and superiors who he held to a far higher standard. During a time when the Paris Police force had a known record of dealing harshly with offenders, Bertillon was always courteous and polite with the men he measured during their arrest. When Bertillon was installed in the attic of the Palais de Justice, the area was in severe disrepair, and while the Administration wanted to hire indigent laborers to cut costs, Bertillon protested, overseeing the repairs himself to reduce costs, so his laborers could be paid a decent wage. Once installed as the Chief of Judicial Identity, he was always courteous to his staff. It was only his peers and his superiors who received the full force of his sardonic edge.
Bertillon preferred his office, but he also did much field work, almost always photographing crime scenes personally. He preferred his office, however, where he could conduct experiments on his own terms. He cared nothing for fame or recognition, and though he received several prestigious awards for his discoveries, he preferred the simple thanks of those his work had helped.
Alphonse Bertillon's brusque demeanor hid a kind and noble heart. He was certainly an introvert, and given the facts, it is entirely possible that he was on the Autism spectrum. He struggled with social interactions but was always polite and courteous when dealing with people on his own terms, where he knew the unspoken social rules that so often baffled him. His preference for solitude and organization, difficulty in school, obsession with wearing the exact fashions of the day, even while disregarding society at large, all point to this likelihood. He could be staggeringly insensitive and shockingly sensitive nearly simultaneously. He disliked anyone who did not say exactly what they meant, and was often blunt beyond the point of rudeness, but not from any malicious hatred of those who were pierced by his sharp barbs. He simply saw no benefit to polity.
In all, Alphonse Bertillon is an enigma, but his legacy is undeniable. Even though his original system of identification is now obsolete, his methods were used and perfected by others, who saw the value in them. Bertillon had no children, but his death in 1914 was mourned not only by his faithful wife and loyal family, but by all of France, and the world at large. His legacy is his work. His methods and personality likely inspired the character of Sherlock Holmes, and therefore nearly every fictional detective since, not to mention the methods of real detectives and forensic investigators the world over. So, whenever you see a mugshot on television, or watch any procedural or detective program, you can thank Alphonse Bertillon for bringing the art of forensic investigation into the modern century.
For more information on Bertillon or my novel, Grayscale, check out these links:
Alphonse Bertillon and the Troubling Pursuit of Human Metrics - article by Jessica Helfand
Alphonse Bertillon, father of scientific detection, by T.F. Rhodes - purchase on Amazon
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