Palais de Justice.—Account of the different tribunals or courts of law.
Paris, april the 30th, 1802, (10 floréal.)
MY DEAR SIR,
I went this morning to the “Palais de Justice,” in order to visit the different tribunals. The “façade,” or front, of this building has a commanding appearance. A handsome iron railing, with three gates, forms its barrier; after passing through which, you ascend a lofty flight of stone steps. The avenues to the principal hall are filled with shops of various descriptions, and particularly those of booksellers. The hall, or central room, which is of considerable extent, forms a kind of antichamber to the different courts. I went into one of the “tribunals de premier instance,” in each of which three judges preside. They wear long bands, and black coats, from which is suspended a cloke or gown of black silk. The advocates plead in a sort of bar; but, excepting being dressed in black, have no distinguishing badge, or professional decoration. The judges had a grave appearance; and, though they did not seem to be men of much importance, conducted themselves with decency and propriety. I was present while some causes were argued; but they were not of sufficient consequence to enable me to form any estimate of the talents of the advocates, now called, in the general change of name, “des défenseurs officiaux[74].” As to their outward garb, it was not prepossessing; and, if it were not unjust to form any conclusion from mere exteriors, I should say, that a french counsel and an english one appear to be drawn from a very different class of society. I next saw a court, which, under the title of “tribunal de la police correctionelle,” is charged with the investigation and punishment of petty offences. I here heard the trial of a man charged with pawning, for his own use, some goods belonging to a shop, in which he was employed as a workman. The witnesses were regularly examined; after which the criminal was very patiently heard in his defence. As he had nothing to urge but his poverty and the charges of a large family, he was found guilty by the judges, (for I observed no jury) and was sentenced, though an old offender, to only six months imprisonment. This trial having satisfied my curiosity about “la police correctionelle,” I next visited the chief or supreme court of the republic, which is called “le tribunal de cassation.” Here every thing bore a more dignified appearance. The room was lofty, the seats elevated, and the judges (whose number was considerable) seemed, by their dress, their manner, and their language, to be well suited to the important functions of their office. They wore black and red gowns, with cocked hats, the cords of which were of gold lace. Nothing can be more respectable than the exterior of this court; of the proceedings of which I could form no idea, as the judges were employed in reading papers relating to mere matters of form. I imagine, that this is the tribunal intended, in some respects, to replace the parliament of Paris. The magistrates, as far as I could form an opinion from this cursory visit, seem men of education, learning, and polished manners.
Before I left the Palais de Justice, I looked in at the criminal court of the “départment de la Seine.” A culprit was reading a long written defence, which I had not the patience to hear concluded. The room was handsome, and the proceedings orderly and correct. I saw here nothing like a jury; yet I am told, that all capital offences are tried by that mode of process. An Italian was a few days ago tried in this court, and convicted of assassination. I regret much, that I was not present at the trial. I did not hear of the circumstance till to day. He yesterday underwent the punishment of the guillotine, being led to the scaffold in a red shirt, this disgrace being added to the sentence in cases of murder. I ought to mention, in honour of the present criminal laws of France, that this is the first individual, who has been condemned to death, during the six months which I have passed at Paris.
Underneath the “Palais de Justice” is situate that fatal prison, called “la Conciergerie.” It was here that the sanguinary Robespierre immured the daily victims of his wild and unrelenting tyranny; who awaited, within its dismal walls, the signal of death, under the insulting and degraded name of trial. It was here, that rank, beauty, age, philosophy, virtue, and patriotism, took the places of vice; and, in the caverns destined to receive the blackest perpetrators of hideous crimes, were hurled, among multitudes of other innocent and dignified characters, the learned Condorcet, the ingenious Lavoisier, the respectable Madame Roland, the venerable Malesherbes, and the lovely, courageous, and once haughty queen of France. When I have been forced to make such painful reflections, in viewing the different objects which present themselves at Paris, I have always found some consolation in looking round me, and seeing how completely that system of suspicion, bloodshed, and injustice, has passed away. Those horrors, so disgraceful to France, took place in a moment of national delirium (if I may be permitted the expression); and the inhabitants of Paris, who committed, or rather suffered, the scenes of judicial murder, which every day contaminated the streets of the capital, now, restored to their senses, are the first to deplore and execrate them. I am persuaded, that crimes like these can never again find their way into the polished metropolis of this great, brave, and ingenious people.
With this hope I shall conclude my letter—a hope, in which I am certain that you will warmly and cordially unite.
I am, &c.