The consequence is a continuance of the old practice of soliciting
justice. The judge virtually decides in chambers, and he hears the
parties in chambers, or, in other words, wherever he may choose to
receive them. The client depends as much on external influence and his
own solicitations, as on the law and the justice of his case. He visits
the judge officially, and works upon his mind, by all the means in his
power. You and I have been acquainted intimately from boyhood, and it
has been my bad luck to have had more to do with the courts than I could
wish, and yet, in all the freedom of an otherwise unfettered
intercourse, I have never dared to introduce the subject of any suit, in
which I have been a party. I have been afraid of wounding your sense of
right, to say nothing of my own, and of forfeiting your esteem, or at
least of losing your society. Now had we been Frenchmen you would have
expected me to _solicit_ you, you would probably have heard me with the
bias of an old friend, and my adversary must have been a singularly
lucky fellow, or you a very honest one, if he did not get the worst of
it, supposing the case to admit of doubt. Formerly, it was known that
influence prevailed; bribes were offered and received, and a suit was a
contest of money and favoritism, rather than one of facts and
principles.
I asked Gen. La Fayette, not long since, what he thought of the actual
condition of France, as respects the administration of justice. In most
political cases he accused the government of the grossest injustice,
illegality and oppression. In the ordinary criminal cases, he believed
the intentions of the courts and juries perfectly fair, as, indeed, it
is difficult to believe they should not be. In the civil suits he
thought a great improvement had taken place, nor did he believe that
there now exists much of the ancient corruption. The civil code of
Napoleon had worked well, and all he complained of was a want of fitness
between the subordinate provisions of a system invented by a military
despot for his own support, and the system of _quasi_ liberty that had
been adopted at the restoration; for the Bourbons had gladly availed
themselves of all the machinery of power, that Napoleon bequeathed to
France.
A gentleman who heard the conversation, afterwards told me the following
anecdote. A friend of his had long been an unsuccessful suitor in one of
the higher courts of the kingdom. They met one day in the street, when
the other told him that an unsealed letter which he held in his hand,
contained an offer of a pair of carriage-horses, to the wife of the
judge who had the control of his affair. On being told he dare not take
so strong a step, M. de ——, my informant, was requested to read the
letter, to seal it, and to put in the _boite aux lettres_ with his own
hands, in order to satisfy himself of the actual state of justice in
France. All this was done, and “I can only add,” continued M. de ——,”
that I afterwards saw the horses in the carriage of Mad ——, and that my
friend gained his cause.” To this anecdote, I can only say, I tell it
exactly as I heard it, and that M. de —— is a deputy, and one of the
honestest and simplest-minded men of my acquaintance. It is but proper
to add, that the judge in question has a bad name, and is little
esteemed by the bar, but the above-mentioned fact would go to show that
too much of the old system remains.
In Germany justice bears a better name, though the absence of juries
generally, must subject the suitor to the assaults of personal
influence. Farther south report speaks still less favourably of the
manner in which the laws are interpreted, and, indeed, it would seem to
be an inevitable consequence of despotism, that justice should be
abused. One hears, occasionally, of some signal act of moderation and
equity, on the part of monarchies, but the merits of systems are to be
proved, not by these brilliant _coups de justice_, but by the steady,
quiet, and regular working of the machine, on which men know how to
calculate, in which they have faith, and which as seldom deceives them
as comports with human fallibility, rather than by _scenes_ in which the
blind goddess is made to play a part in a _melo-drama_.
On the whole, it is fair to presume that, while public opinion, and that
intelligence which acts virtually as a bill of rights, even in the most
despotic governments of Europe, not even excepting Turkey perhaps, have
produced a beneficial influence on the courts, the secrecy of their
proceedings, the irresponsible nature of their trusts (responsible to
power, and irresponsible to the nation) and the absence of publicity,
produce precisely the effects that a common-sense view of the facts,
would lead one, who understands human nature, to expect.
I am no great admirer of the compromising verdicts of juries, in civil
suits that admit of a question as to amounts. They are an admirable
invention to settle questions of guilty or not guilty, but an
enlightened court would, nine times in ten, do more justice in the cases
just named. Would it not be an improvement to alter the present powers
of juries, by letting them simply find for or against the suitor,
leaving the damages to be assessed by regular officers, that might
resemble masters in chancery? At all events, juries or some active
substitute, cannot be safely dispensed with, until a people have made
great progress in the science of publicity, and in a knowledge of the
general principles connected with jurisprudence.
This latter feature is quite peculiar to America. Nothing has struck me
more in Europe, than the ignorance which every where exists on such
subjects, even among educated people. No one appears to have any
distinct notions of legal principles, or even of general law, beyond a
few prominent facts, but the professional men. Chance threw me, not long
since, into the company of three or four exceedingly clever young
Englishmen. They were all elder sons, and two were the heirs of peers.
Something was said on the subject of a claim of a gentleman, with whom I
am connected, to a large Irish estate. The grandfather of this gentleman
was the next brother to the incumbent, who died intestate. The grandson,
however, was defeated in his claim in consequence of its being proved,
that the ancestor, through whom he derived his claim, was of the
half-blood. My English companions did not understand the principle, and
when I explained by adding that the grandfather of the claimant was born
of a different mother from the last holder in fee, and that he could
never inherit at law (unless by devise) the estate going to a hundredth
cousin of the whole blood in preference, or even escheating to the king,
they one and all protested England had no such law! They were evidently
struck with the injustice of transferring property that had been
acquired by the common ancestor of two brothers, to a remote cousin,
merely because the affinity between the sons was only on the father’s
side, although that very father may have accumulated the estate, and
they could not believe that what struck them as so grievous a wrong,
could be the law of descents under which they lived. Luckily for me, one
learned in the profession happened to be present, and corroborated the
fact. Now all these gentlemen were members of parliament, but they were
accustomed to leave legal questions of this nature to the management of
professional men.[6]
Footnote 6:
This absurd and unaccountable provision of the common law, has since
been superseded by a statute regulating descents on a more
intelligible and just provision. England has made greater advances in
common sense and in the right, in all such matters, within the last
five years, than during the previous hundred.
I mentioned this conversation to another Englishman, who thought the
difficulty well disposed of, by saying that if property ever escheated
in this manner, I ought to remember that the crown invariably bestowed
it on the natural heir. This struck me as singular reasoning to be used
by a people who profess to cherish liberty, inasmuch as, to a certain
degree, it places all the land in the kingdom, at the mercy of the
sovereign. I need not tell you moreover, that this answer was
insufficient, as it did not meet the contingency of a remote cousin’s
inheriting, to the prejudice of the children of him who earned the
estate. But habit is all in all, with the English in such matters, and
that which they are accustomed to see and hear, they are accustomed to
think right.
The bar is rising greatly in public consideration in France. Before the
revolution there were certain legal families of great distinction, but
these could scarcely be considered as forming a portion of the regular
practitioners. Now, many of the most distinguished statesmen, peers, and
politicians of France, commenced their careers as advocates. The
practice of public speaking gives them an immense advantage in the
chambers, and fully half of the most popular debators, are members who
belong to the profession. New candidates for public favor appear every
day, and the time is at hand when the fortunes of France, so lately
controlled by soldiers, will be more influenced by men of this
profession, than by those of all the others. This is a great step in
moral civilization, for the country that most feels the ascendency of
the law, and that least feels that of arms, is nearest to the summit of
human perfection. When asked which profession takes rank, in America, I
tell them the law in influence, and the church in deference. Some of my
_moustached_ auditors stare at this reply, for, here, the sword has
precedence of all others, and the law, with few exceptions, is deemed a
calling for none but those who are in the secondary ranks of society.
But, as I have told you, opinion is undergoing a great change, in this
particular. I believe that every efficient man in the present ministry
are or have been lawyers.
LETTER VIII.
TO COL. BANKHEAD, U. S. ARTILLERY.
The army of France obtained so high a reputation, during the wars of the
revolution and of the empire, that you may feel some curiosity to know
its actual condition. As the Bourbons understand that they have been
restored to the throne, by the great powers of Europe, if not in
opposition to the wishes of a majority of Frenchmen, certainly in
opposition to the wishes of the active portion of the population, and
consequently to that part of the nation which would be the most likely
to oppose their interests, they have been accused of endeavouring to
keep the establishments of France so low as to put her at the mercy of
any new combination of the allies. I should think this accusation, in a
great degree, certainly, unmerited; for France, at this moment, has a
large and, so far as I can judge, a well appointed army, and one that is
charged by the liberal party with being a heavy expense to the nation,
and that, too, chiefly with the intention of keeping the people in
subjection to tyranny. But these contradictions are common in party
politics. It is not easy here to get at statistical facts, accurately,
especially those which are connected with expenditure. Nominally, the
army is about 200,000 men, but it is whispered, that numerous _congés_
are given, in order to divert the funds that are thus saved, to other
objects. Admitting all this to be true, and it probably is so in part, I
should think France must have fully 150,000 men embodied, without
including the National Guards. Paris is pretty well garrisoned, and the
_casernes_ in the vicinity of the capital are always occupied. It
appears to me there cannot be less than 20,000 men, within a day’s march
of the Tuileries, and there may be half as many more.[7]
Footnote 7:
The sudden disbandment of the guards and other troops in 1830, greatly
diminished the actual force of the country.
Since our arrival there have been several great military displays, and I
have made it a point to be present at them all. The first was a _petite
guerre_,[8] on the plains of Issy, or within a mile of the walls of the
town. There may have been 15,000 men assembled for the occasion,
including troops of all arms.
Footnote 8:
Sham-fight.
One of the first things that struck me at Paris, was the careless
militia-like manner in which the French troops marched about the
streets. The disorder, irregularity, careless and indifferent style of
moving, were all exactly such as I have heard laughed at, a thousand
times, in our own great body of national defenders. But this is only one
of many similar instances, in which I have discovered that what has been
deemed a peculiarity in ourselves, arising from the institutions
perhaps, is a very general quality belonging rather to man than to any
particular set of men. Our notions, you will excuse the freedom of the
remark, are apt to be a little provincial, and every one knows that
fashions, opinions and tastes, only become the more exaggerated, the
farther we remove from the centre of light. In this way, we come to
think of things in an exaggerated sense, until, like the boy who is
disappointed at finding a king a man, we form notions of life that are
any thing but natural and true.
I was still so new to all this, however, that I confess I went to the
plain of Issy, expecting to see a new style of manœuvring, or, at least,
one very different from that which I had so often witnessed at home,
nor, can I say that, in this instance, there was so much disappointment.
The plan of the day did not embrace two parties, but was merely an
attack on an imaginary position, against which the assailants were
regularly and scientifically brought up, the victory being a matter of
convention. The movements were very beautiful, and were made with
astonishing spirit and accuracy. All idea of disorder, or the want of
regularity, was lost, here, for entire battalions advanced to the
charges without the slightest apparent deviation from perfectly
mathematical lines.
When we reached the acclivity that overlooked the field, a new line was
forming directly beneath us, it being supposed that the advance of the
enemy had already been driven in upon his main body, and the great
attack was just on the point of commencing.
A long line of infantry of the French guards, formed the centre of the
assailants. Several batteries of artillery were at hand, and divers
strong columns of horse and foot were held in reserve. A regiment of
lancers was on the nearest flank, and another of cuirassiers was
stationed at the opposite. All the men of the royal family were in the
field, surrounded by a brilliant staff. A gun was fired near them, by
way of signal, I suppose, when two brigades of artillery galloped
through the intervals of the line, unlimbered, and went to work as if
they were in downright earnest. The cannonade continued a short time,
when the infantry advanced in line, and delivered its fire by companies,
or battalions, I could not discern which, in the smoke. This lasted some
ten minutes, when I observed a strong column of troops dressed in
scarlet, moving up, with great steadiness and regularity, from the rear.
These were the Swiss guards, and there might have been fifteen hundred,
or two thousand of them. The column divided into two, as it approached
the rear of the line, which broke into columns, in turn, and for a
minute there was a confused crowd of red and blue coats, in the smoke,
that quite set my nautical instinct at defiance. The cuirassiers chose
this moment to make a rapid and menacing movement in advance, but
without opening their column, and some of the artillery reappeared and
commenced firing, at the unoccupied intervals. This lasted a very little
while, for the Swiss displayed into line like clock-work, and then made
a quick charge, with beautiful precision. Halting, they threw in a heavy
fire, by battalions; the French guard rallied and formed upon their
flanks; the whole reserve came up; the cuirassiers and lancers charged,
by turning the position assailed, and for ten or fifteen minutes there
was a succession of quick evolutions, which, like the _finale_ of a
grand piece of music, appeared confused even while it was the most
scientific, and then there was a sudden pause. The position, whose
centre was a copse, had been carried, and we soon saw the guards formed
on the ground that was supposed to have been held by the enemy. The
artillery still fired, occasionally, as on a retreating foe, and the
lancers and cuirassiers were charging and manœuvring, half a mile
farther in advance, as if following up their advantage.
Altogether, this was much the prettiest field exercise I ever witnessed.
There was a unity of plan, a perfection of evolution, and a division of
_matériel_ about it, that rendered it to my eyes, as nearly perfect as
might be. The troops were the best of France, and the management of the
whole had been confided to some one accustomed to the field. It
contained all the poetry, without any of the horrors of a battle. It
could not possess the heart-stirring interest of a real conflict, and
yet it was not without great excitement.
Some time after the _petite guerre_ of Issy, the capital celebrated the
_fête_ of the Trocadero. The Trocadero, you may remember, was the
fortress of Cadiz, carried by assault, under the order of the _Dauphin_,
in the war of the late Spanish revolution. This government, which has
destroyed all the statues of the Emperor, proscribed his family, and
obliterated every visible mark of his reign in their power, has had the
unaccountable folly of endeavouring to supplant the military glory
acquired under Napoleon, by that of Louis Antoine, Dauphin of France! A
necessary consequence of the attempt, is a concentration of all the
military _souvenirs_ of the day, in this affair of the Trocadero. Bold
as all this will appear to one who has not the advantage of taking a
near view of what is going on here, it has even been exceeded, through
the abject-spirit of subserviency in those who have the care of public
instruction, by an attempt to exclude even the name of the Bonaparte
from French history. My girls have shown me an abridgment of the history
of France, that has been officially prepared for the ordinary schools,
in which there is no sort of allusion to him. The wags here, say that a
work has been especially prepared for the heir presumptive, however, in
which the emperor is a little better treated; being spoken of as “a
certain _Marquis de Bonaparte_, who commanded the armies of the king.”
The mimic attack on the Trocadero, like its great original, was at
night. The troops assembled in the _Champs de Mars_, and the assault was
made, across the beautiful bridge of Jena, on a sharp acclivity near
Passy, which was the imaginary fortress. The result was a pretty good
effect of night-firing, some smoke, not a little noise, with a very
pretty movement of masses. I could make nothing of it, of much interest,
for the obscurity prevented the eyes from helping the imagination.
Not long since, the king held a great review of regular troops and of
the entire body of the National Guards of Paris and its environs. This
review also took place in the _Champs de Mars_, and it was said that
nearly a hundred thousand men were under arms, for the occasion. I think
there might have been quite seventy thousand. These mere reviews have
little interest, the evolutions being limited to marching by regiments
on and off the ground. In doing the latter, the troops defile before the
king. Previously to this, the royal cortège passed along the several
lines, receiving the usual honours.
On this occasion, the _Dauphine_ and the _Duchesse de Berri_, followed
the king in open carriages, accompanied by the little _Duc de Bordeaux_
and his sister. I happened to be at an angle of the field, as the royal
party, surrounded by a showy group of marshals and generals, passed, and
when there seemed to be a little confusion. As a matter of course, the
cry of _vive le roi_ had passed along with the procession, for, popular
or not, it is always easy for a sovereign to procure this sign of
affection, or, for others to procure it for him. You will readily
understand, that _employés_ of the government, are especially directed
to betray the proper enthusiasm on such, occasions. There was, however,
a cry at this corner of the area, that did not seem so unequivocally
loyal, and, on inquiry, I was told that some of the National Guards had
cried _à bas les ministres_. The affair passed off without much notice,
however, and I believe it was generally forgotten by the population,
within an hour. The desire to get rid of _M. de Villèle_, and his set,
was so general in Paris, that most people considered the interruption
quite as a matter of course.
The next day the capital was electrified by a royal ordinance disbanding
all the National Guards of Paris! A more infatuated, or if it were
intended to punish the disaffected, a more unjust decree, could not
easily have been issued. It was telling the great majority of the very
class which forms the true force of every government, that their rulers
could not confide in them. As confidence, by awakening pride, begets a
spirit in favour of those who depend on it, so does obvious distrust
engender disaffection. But the certainty that Louis XVIth, lost his
throne and his life for the want of decision, has created one of those
sweeping opinions, here, of the virtue of energy, that constantly leads
the rulers into false measures. An act that might have restrained the
France of 1792, would be certain to throw the France of 1827, into open
revolt. The present generation of Frenchmen, in a political sense, have
little in common with even the French of 1814, and measures must be
suited to the times in which we live. As well might one think of using
the birch on the man, that had been found profitable with the boy, as to
suppose these people can be treated like their ancestors.
As might have been expected, a deep, and what is likely to prove a
lasting discontent, has been the consequence of the blunder. It is
pretended that the shop-keepers of Paris are glad to be rid of the
trouble of occasionally mounting guard, and that the affair will be
forgotten in a short time. All this may be true enough, in part, and it
would also be true in the whole, were there not a press to keep
disaffection alive, and to inflame the feelings of those who have been
treated so cavalierly, for he knows little of human nature who does not
understand that, while bodies of men commit flagrant wrongs without the
responsibility being kept in view by their individual members, an
affront to the whole is pretty certain to be received as an affront to
each of those who make an integral part.
The immediate demonstrations of dissatisfaction have not amounted to
much, though the law and medical students paraded the streets, and
shouted, beneath the windows of the ministers, the very cry that gave
rise to the disbandment of the guards. But, if no other consequence has
followed this exercise of arbitrary power, I, at least, have learned how
to disperse a crowd. As you may have occasion, some day, in your
military capacity, to perform this unpleasant duty, it may be worth
while to give you a hint concerning the _modus operandi_.
Happening to pass through the _Place Vendôme_, I found the foot of the
celebrated column, which stands directly in the centre of the square,
surrounded by several hundred students. They were clustered together
like bees, close to the iron railing which encloses the base of the
pillar, or around an area of some fifty or sixty feet, square. From time
to time, they raised a shout, evidently directed against the ministers,
of whom one resided at no great distance from the column. As the hotel
of the _Etat Major_, of Paris, is in this square, and there is always a
post at it, it soon became apparent there was no intention quietly to
submit to this insult. I was attracted by a demonstration on the part of
the _corps de garde_, and, taking a station at no great distance from
the students, I awaited the issue.