The speech from the throne was written on parchment, on both sides of the sheet, and usually filled four pages. The King read it in a firm, well modulated voice.
Marshal Soult was present, resplendent with decorations, sashes, and gold lace, and complaining of his rheumatism. M. Pasquier, the Chancellor, did not put in an appearance. He had excused himself on the plea of the cold and of his eighty years. He had been present the year before. It was the last time.
In 1847 I was a member of the grand deputation. While I strolled about the waiting room, conversing with M. Villemain about Cracow, the Vienna treaties and the frontier of the Rhine, I could hear the buzzing of the groups around me, and scraps of conversation reached my ears.
COUNT DE LAGRANGE.—Ah! here comes the Marshal (Soult).
BARON PEDRE LACAZE.—He is getting old.
VISCOUNT CAVAIGNAC.—Sixty-nine years!
MARQUIS DR RAIGECOURT.—Who is the dean of the Chamber of Peers at present?
DUKE DE TREVISE.—M. de Pontecoulant, is he not?
MARQUIS DE LAPLACE.—NO, President Boyer. He is ninety-two.
PRESIDENT BARTHE.—He is older than that.