[Sidenote: CORPS LEGISLATIF]
This Tribunate meets in those departments of the Palais Royale which
are opposite the Rue St. Thomas. A few shabby-looking individuals
compose what is called their Guard of Honour. I had the honour and
privilege of being admitted to one of these meetings, and I will try
to describe what passed on this occasion. Having obtained an order of
admittance at the door in exchange for our cards, we were ushered into
a seat appropriated for the friends of the members, and just opposite
to the Presidential chair. Immediately behind us were the reporters,
and beyond them the place reserved for the public, who on that
particular day consisted of eight persons. The room itself is small
and mean, furnished with benches covered with blue cloth. After we had
waited about twenty minutes, during which time two or three individuals
peeped through the folding doors opposite to us, much in the same way
as a head is sometimes seen through the green curtain at Drury Lane,
in the act of exploring the house, a sudden crash of drums as a signal
was heard, and the folding-door vanished as if touched by the wand of
Harlequin. The drums then beat a salute, and the scene that opened
presented us with a very fine perspective of soldiers presenting arms.
In a minute or two the procession commenced, with six men in fancy
dresses, whose appearance was a burlesque upon French legislation.
They were dressed in grey coats and pantaloons, with scarlet waistcoats
and red half-boots. Upon their heads a round hat turned up in front
with a blue feather, a red sash round the waist, and a good-sized stick
in their hands.
Next followed the President, his round hat garnished with three upright
tri-coloured feathers; he wore a mazarine-blue coat embroidered in
silver, breeches to match, and a white silk waistcoat bound in by a
silk tri-colour sash with silver fringes.
Behind followed the secretaries, and a motley group whose appearance
provoked great merriment amongst us. Most of them were in full costume,
like the President, but some with worsted, others with black silk,
stockings. They wore pantaloons and half-boots, and several had whole
boots with dirty brown tops.
Except the President and secretaries, there were but three in this
crowd who wore a clean pair of shoes and looked like gentlemen. These
three were Lucien Bonaparte, the First Consul’s next brother, who was
not only in full uniform, but appeared in silk stockings and clean
linen, and had in every respect the manners and address of a gentleman,
with the countenance of an Italian Jew; Chauvelier,[7] formerly
resident for the late unfortunate King of France in our country; and
Carnot, the ex-Director, who was dressed in a suit of black worthy of a
courtier. He seemed very surly, and during the whole sitting employed
himself reading a pamphlet. All the rest looked like blackguards in
masquerade. As soon as the President mounted his tribune, he rang
a handbell; he then took off his hat, and remarked, “La Séance est
ouverte.” The six gentlemen in grey already mentioned began to get up
a hissing resembling geese. This was to obtain silence (for they were
gentlemen ushers). The order of the day was then read. No debate took
place. After each law proposed, every man (as his name was called)
advanced to the tribune, and put the ball which recorded his vote into
the urn. This ceremony was repeated a number of times, and, indeed,
this figuring continued for above three hours. The President then rang
his bell again, and declared, “La Séance est levée!” Instantly the
folding doors disappeared once more with a crash, and exeunt President,
secretaries, and tribunes to their respective dressing-rooms, where
they exchanged their fine fancy clothes for their ordinary habiliments.
Having described the nature and object of this body, I shall now
endeavour to do the same by that extraordinary assembly of Mutes, which
goes by the name of the _Legislative Council of France_, in which
300 choice spirits are collected together to be dumb by law during
four months in ever year. According to the code of “_Minos_”
Bonaparte, article 34, we find: “The legislative body enacts the law
by secret _scrutiny and without the least discussion on the part of
its members_, upon the plans of the law debated before it, by the
orators of the Tribunate and the Government.”
[Sidenote: A SILENT PARLIAMENT]
This is exquisite! Each mute is allowed the sum of £436 sterling per
annum, with permission to talk during eight months of the year. Such is
the best account I can give of this marvellous assembly. It is called
a Legislative Council, but this designation is an improper one. In
the French, as well as the English language, the word _council_,
derived from the Latin _concilium_, signifies a body of men met
together for the purpose of consultation. Now, except in “Dean Swift’s
Voyage to Laputa,” I have never heard or read of a number of men
assembled together only to _think_, not even at a Quaker meeting.
The hall where these thoughtful meetings take place was constructed
during the Directorate; it is now pompously called “The Palace of the
Legislative Bodies,” and it merits the name of palace, for it is one
of the most elegant and beautiful rooms in Europe. It is semicircular,
with benches rising one upon the other, for the convenience of members.
Above the uppermost bench, and extending along the semicircle, are a
number of arcades of fine marble, the capitals composed of bronze.
Within these persons who have obtained cards of admission are
stationed, and considerably above them, nearly at the top of the
ceiling is a gallery, for spectators. Opposite to the benches of
the members, and in the middle of its diameter, is the chair of the
President, a little below him the place of the secretaries and the
tribune from which the orators of the Government, viz., the Council
of State and those of the Tribunate harangue the assembly. These are
all made of solid mahogany, inlaid with gold, and the pedestal of the
tribune has a beautiful relief in marble, filched from Italy. On the
right of the President there are three niches, within which are the
statues of Lycurgus, Demosthenes and Solon, on the left three others,
in which Brutus, Cato, and Cicero are fixed.
The floor, which forms the area between the tribune and the benches of
the members, is of marble.
We were never present at the opening of the _séance_, so I cannot
say whether the drums beat as at the Tribunate, but I think it likely
this assembly has also a guard of honour. There is a semicircular
bench on the floor opposite to the President appropriated for those
tribunes and orators of the Government who are detached for the purpose
of discussing the laws. They are preceded by huissiers at their
entrance into the hall, and the doors are always opened as if by magic
and with a crash.
The mutes wear the same uniforms as the tribunes, except that their
clothing is embroidered with gold; they are by no means so slovenly in
their appearance as the gentlemen of the lower chamber. A great many
general officers are among their number.
The palace to which this hall is attached is the Palace Bourbon,
formerly the Parisian residence of the Prince de Condé. It is situate
on the other side of the Seine, opposite to the place once Place Louis
XV., now Place de la Concorde, on the middle of which the unfortunate
monarch of France and innumerable numbers of his former subjects were
put to death.
The beautiful bridge, Pont de la Concorde, which leads to the palace,
and the triumphant portal between two noble pavilions, to which it is
connected by a double row of lofty columns of the Corinthian order, add
to the splendour of its appearance. We must _not_ forget while
admiring so many noble specimens of architecture that not _one_ of
them is the work of the genius of Republican France; on the contrary,
they were raised and embellished by the liberality of Princes, whose
descendants an ungrateful people have driven into exile.
The only pieces of architecture produced by the Republic are several
wooden houses erected upon barges on the river for shows and bagnios
where the lascivious and polluted may at any hour of the day or night
regale themselves with girls, liqueurs, coffee, dainties of all kinds
and hot and cold baths.
[Sidenote: CRIMINAL COURT]
In the interior of the _Palais du Corps Législatif_ there are
several halls dedicated to peace and victory, and to those funny
divinities, Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity.