“Ah, Voilà,” cried an old creature in rags, on whose cotton bonnet a faded and dirty tricolored ribbon was fastened—“voilà 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 passed 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 hoarse 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 massive pillars, between which views were obtained of various spacious 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 rushing 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 mass 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 a huissier at the entrance; and at a signal the line moved forward, the curtain was drawn back, and we advanced into the court.
The crowd of faces that filled the vast space from the body of the court below to the galleries above, turned as we passed 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-Général of the court.
The vast multitudes of spectators; the pomp and circumstance 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 assembled,—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 séance,” 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-Général proceeded to read the names of the accused, beginning with Général Moreau, Armand de Polignac, Charles de Rivière, Sol de Gisolles, George Cadoudal, and some twenty others of less note, among which I heard with a sinking heart my own name pronounced.
Some customary formalities seemed now to occupy the court for a considerable time; after which the huissier called silence once more.