Chapter 52
When we reached the quays, the crowd was greater still, and it required all the efforts of the troops to keep it back sufficiently to permit an open s.p.a.ce for the carriages; while at all the streets that opened at the quays, mounted dragoons were stationed to prevent any carriage pa.s.sing down. Never had I beheld such a vast mult.i.tude of people; and yet, through all that crowded host, a deep, solemn silence prevailed,--not a cry nor a shout was heard in all the way. Once only, at the corner of the Pont Neuf, a cry of "Vive Moreau!" was given by some one in the crowd; but it was a solitary voice, and the moment after I saw a gendarme force his way through the ma.s.s, and seizing a miserable-looking creature by the neck, hurry him along beside his horse towards the guardhouse. On crossing the bridge, I saw that a company of artillery and two guns were placed in position beside Desaix's monument, so as to command the Pont Neuf: all these preparations clearly indicating that the Government felt the occasion such as to warrant the most energetic measures of security. There was something in the earnest look of the cannoniers, as they stood with their lighted matches beside the guns, that betrayed the resolve of one whose quick determination was ever ready for the moment of danger.
The narrow streets of the Isle St. Louis, more densely crowded than any part of the way, slackened our pace considerably, and frequently the gendarmes were obliged to clear the s.p.a.ce before the carriages could proceed. I could not help feeling struck, as we pa.s.sed along these miserable and dark alleys,--where vice and crime, and wretchedness of every type herded together,--to hear at every step some expressions of pity or commiseration from those who themselves seemed the veriest objects of compa.s.sion.
"Ah, Voil," cried an old creature in rags, on whose cotton bonnet a faded and dirty tricolored ribbon was fastened--"voil Moreau! I'd know his proud face any day. Poor general, I hope it will not go hard with you to-day!" "Look there," screamed a hag, as the carriage in which Bouvet sat pa.s.sed by--"look at the handsome youth that's dying! Holy Virgin! he'll not be living when they reach the gate of the Palais!"
"And there," cried another, "there's a hussar officer, pale enough, I trow he is. Come, I 'll say a prayer or two for him there; it can do him no harm anyhow."
The hoa.r.s.e rattle of a drum in front mingled with the noise of the cavalcade, and I now could hear the clank of a guard turning out. The minute after we stood before a colossal gateway, whose rich tracery shone in the most gorgeous gilding; it was in the splendid taste of Louis the Fourteenth, and well became the entrance of what once had been a royal palace. "Alas!" thought I, "how unlike those who once trod this wide court is the melancholy cortege that now enters it!"
As each carriage drew up at the foot of a wide flight of stone steps, the prisoners descended, and escorted by gendarmes on each side, were led into the building. When all had reached the hall, the order was given to move forward, and we walked on till we came to a long gallery.
On either side was a range of ma.s.sive pillars, between which views were obtained of various s.p.a.cious but dimly-lighted chambers, apparently neglected and unused; some benches here and there, an old cabinet, and a deal table, were all the furniture. Here we halted for a few moments, till a door opening at the extreme end, a sign was made for us to advance. And now we heard a low rus.h.i.+ng sound, like the distant breaking of the sea in a calm night; it grew louder as we went, till we could mark the mingling of several hundred voices, as they conversed in a subdued and under tone. Then, indeed, a dreadful thrill ran through me, as I thought of the countless ma.s.s before whom I was to stand forth a criminal, and it needed every effort in my power to keep my feet.
A heavy curtain of dark cloth yet separated us from a view of the court; but we could hear the voice of the president commanding silence, and the monotonous intonation of the clerk reading the order for the proceedings. This concluded, a deep voice called out, "Introduce the prisoners!" and the words were repeated still louder by
The crowd of faces that filled the vast s.p.a.ce from the body of the court below to the galleries above, turned as we pa.s.sed on to the bench, at one side of the raised platform near the seat of the judges. A similar bench, but unoccupied, ran along the opposite side; while directly in front of the judges were ranged the advocates in rows, closely packed as they could sit,--a small desk, somewhat advanced from the rest, being the seat reserved for the Procureur-Gnral of the court.
The vast mult.i.tudes of spectators; the pomp and circ.u.mstance of a court of justice; the solemn look of the judges, arrayed in their dark robes and square black caps, reminding one of the officers of the Inquisition, as we see them in old paintings; the silence where so many were a.s.sembled,--all struck me with awe, and I scarcely dared to look up, lest in the glances bent upon me I should meet some whose looks might seem to condemn me.
"Proclaim the _sance_," said the President. And with: a loud voice the _huissier_ of the court made proclamation that the tribunal had commenced its sitting.
This concluded, the Procureur-Gnral proceeded to read the names of the accused, beginning with Gnral Moreau, Armand de Polignac, Charles de Rivire, Sol de Gisolles, George Cadoudal, and some twenty others of less note, among which I heard with a sinking heart my own name p.r.o.nounced.
Some customary formalities seemed now to occupy the court for a considerable time; after which the _huissier_ called silence once more.
"Gnral Moreau!" said the President, in a deep voice that was heard throughout the entire court. "Rise up, sir," added he, after a few seconds' pause.
I looked down the bench, at the farthest end of which I saw the tall and well-knit figure of a man in the uniform of a general of the Republic; his back was turned towards me, but his bearing and carriage were quite enough to distinguish the soldier.
"Your name and surname," said the President.
Before an answer could be returned, a dull sound, like something heavy falling, resounded through the court, and in an instant several persons around me stood up. I bent forward to see, and beheld the figure of Bouvet de Lozier stretched insensible upon the ground; beside him his faithful friend George was stooping, and endeavoring to open his vest to give him air.
"Bring some water here quickly!" cried the hardy Breton, in a tone that showed little respect for where he stood. "Your absurd ceremonial has frightened the poor boy out of his senses."
"Respect the court, sir, or I commit you!" said the President, in a voice of anger.
A contemptuous look, followed by a still more contemptuous shrug of the shoulders, was his reply.
"Remove the prisoner," said the President, pointing to the still fainting youth, "and proclaim silence in the court."
The officers of the tribunal carried the deathlike figure of the boy down the steps, and bore him to some of the chambers near.
This little incident, slight and pa.s.sing as it was, seemed much to affect the auditory, and it was some time before perfect silence could be again restored.
"So much for the rgime of the Temple!" said George, aloud, as he looked after the insensible form of his friend.
"Silence, sir!" cried one of the judges, M. Thuriot, a harsh and severe-looking man, whose hatred to the prisoners was the subject of much conversation in the prison.
"Ah, it is you, Tue-Roi!" cried George, punning upon his name, for he had been one of the regicides. "You there! I thought they had found you out long ere this."
A burst of laughter that nothing could repress broke through the crowded court, and it was not until some five or six persons were forcibly removed by the gendarmes that order was again restored.
"Read the act of accusation," said the President, in a deep solemn voice.
"In the name of the Republic, one and indivisible--"
"Monsieur le President," interrupted the Procureur-Gnral, "I would submit to the court, that as in the first accusation there are several of the prisoners not included, they should not remain during the recital of the indictment."
A conversation of some minutes now took place between the judges, during which again the silence was unbroken in the court. I turned gladly from the gaze of the thousand spectators to the bench where my fellow-prisoners were seated; and however varied by age, rank, and occupation, there seemed but one feeling amongst them,--a hardy and resolute spirit to brave every danger without flinching.
"Which of the prisoners are not accused under the first act?" said Thuriot.
"Charles Auguste Bebarde, dit le Noir; Guillaume Lebarte; and Thomas Burke, Sous-Lieutenant in the Eighth Regiment of Hussars."
"Let them withdraw," said the President.
A slight bustle ensued in the body of the court as the gendarmes advanced to make a pa.s.sage for our exit; and for a moment I could perceive that the attention of the a.s.sembly was drawn towards us. One by one we descended to the platform, and with a gendarme on either side, proceeded to pa.s.s out, when suddenly the deep, mellow voice of Cadoudal called out aloud,--
"Adieu, my friends, adieu! If we are not to be better treated than our prince, we shall never see you again."
"Silence, sir!" cried the President, severely; and then, turning towards the bar of advocates, he continued, "If that man have an advocate in this court, it would well become him to warn his client that such continued insult to the tribunal can only prejudice his cause."
"I have none, and I wish for none," replied George, in a tone of defiance. "This mockery is but the first step of the guillotine, and I can walk it without a.s.sistance."
A renewed call of "Silence!" and a deep murmur through the a.s.sembly, was all I heard, as the door of the court opened and closed behind us. As we marched along a low vaulted corridor, the sounds of the court grew fainter and fainter; and at last the echoes of our own steps were the only noises.
The room to which we were conducted was a small whitewashed chamber, around which ran a bench of unpainted wood. A deal table stood in the centre, on which was a common-looking earthenware jar of water and some tin goblets. The window was several feet from the ground, and strongly barred with iron.
"La salle d'attente is gloomy enough," said one of my companions, "and yet some of us may be very sorry to leave it."
"Not I, at least," cried the other, resolutely. "The basket beneath the guillotine will be an easier couch than I have slept on these three months."
CHAPTER x.x.xVI. THE PALAIS DE JUSTICE
"It will go hard with Moreau to-day," said the elder of the two prisoners, a large, swarthy-looking Breton, in the dress of a sailor; "the Consul hates him."
"Whom does he not hate," said the younger, a slight and handsome youth--"whom does he not hate that ever rivalled him in glory? What love did he bear to Klber or Desaix?"
"It is false," said I, fiercely. "Bonaparte's greatness stands far too high to feel such rivalry as theirs. The conqueror of Italy and of Egypt--"
"Is a Corsican," interrupted the elder.
"And a tyrant," rejoined the other, in the same breath.
"These words become you well," said I, bitterly. "Would that no stain lay on my honor, and I could make you eat them."
"And who are you that dare to speak thus?" said the younger; "or how came one like you mixed up with men whose hearts were in a great cause, and who came to sell their lives upon it?"