From the Lakes of Killarney to the Golden Horn. Field Henry Martyn

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СКАЧАТЬ it was so great that no government since the Revolution has known what to do with it. It required such an enormous expenditure to keep it up, that the prudent old King Louis Philippe could not afford to live in it, and at last turned it into a kind of museum or historical gallery, filled with pictures of French battles, and dedicated in pompous phrase, To all the Glories of France.

      But it was not to see the palace of Louis XIV. that I had most interest in revisiting Versailles, but to see the National Assembly sitting in it, which is at present the ruling power in France. If Louis XIV. ever revisits the scene of his former magnificence, he must shake his kingly head at the strange events which it has witnessed. How he must have shuddered to see his royal house invaded by a mob, as it was in the time of the first Revolution; to see the faithful Swiss guards butchered in his very palace, and the Queen, Marie Antoinette, escaping with her life; to see the grounds sacred to Majesty trampled by the "fierce democracie" of France; and then by the iron heel of the Corsican usurper; and by the feet of the allied armies under Wellington. His soul may have had peace for a time when, under Louis Philippe and Louis Napoleon, Versailles was comparatively silent and deserted. But what would he have said at seeing, only four winters ago, the Emperor of Germany and his army encamped here and beleaguering the capital? Yet perhaps even that would not so have offended his royal dignity as to see a National Assembly sitting in a part of this very palace in the name of a French Republic!

      Strange overturning indeed; but if strange, still true. They have a proverb in France that "it is always the improbable which happens," and so indeed it seems to be in French history; it is full of surprises, but few greater than that which now appears. France has drifted into a Republic, when both statesmen and people meant not so. It was not the first choice of the nation. Whatever may have been true of the populace of Paris, the immense majority of the French people were sincerely attached to monarchy in some form, whether under a king or an emperor; and yet the country has neither, so that, as has been wittily said, France has been "a Republic without Republicans." But for all that the Republic is here, and here it is likely to remain.

      When the present Assembly first met, a little more than four years since, it was at Bordeaux – for to that corner of France was the government driven; and when the treaty was signed, and it came north, it met at Versailles rather than at Paris, as a matter of necessity. Paris was in a state of insurrection. It was in the hands of the Commune, and could only be taken after a second siege, and many bloody combats around the walls and in the streets. This, and the experience so frequent in French history of a government being overthrown by the mob of Paris invading the legislative halls, decided the National Assembly to remain at Versailles, even after the rebellion was subdued; and so there it is to this day, even though the greater part of the deputies go out from Paris twelve miles every morning, and return every night; and in the programme which has been drawn up for the definite establishment of the Republic, it is made an article of the Constitution that the National Assembly shall always meet at Versailles.

      The place of meeting is the former theatre of the palace, which answers the purpose very well – the space below, in what was the pit, sufficing for the deputies, while the galleries are reserved for spectators. We found the approaches crowded with persons seeking admission, which can only be by ticket. But we had no difficulty. Among the deputies is the well-known Protestant pastor of Paris, Edouard de Pressensé, who was chosen to the Assembly in the stormy scenes of 1871, and who has shown himself as eloquent in the tribune as in the pulpit. I sent him my card, and he came out immediately with two tickets in his hand, and directed one of the attendants to show us into the best seats in the house, who, thus instructed, conducted us to the diplomatic box (which, from its position in the centre of the first balcony, must have been once the royal box), from which we looked down upon the heads of the National Assembly of France.

      And what a spectacle it was! The Assembly consists of over seven hundred men, who may be considered as fair representatives of what is most eminent in France. Of course, as in all such bodies, there are many elected from the provinces on account of some local influence, as landed proprietors, or as sons of noble families, who count only by their votes. But with these are many who have "come to the front" in this great national crisis, by the natural ascendancy which great ability always gives, and who by their talents have justly acquired a commanding influence in the country.

      The President of the Assembly is the Duke d'Audiffret Pasquier, whose elevated seat is at the other end of the hall. In front of him is "the tribune," from which the speakers address the Assembly: it not being the custom here, as in our Congress or in the English Parliament, for a member to speak from his place in the house. This French custom has been criticized in England, as betraying this talkative people into more words, for a Frenchman does not wish to "mount the tribune" for nothing, and once there the temptation is very strong to make "a speech." But we did not find that the speeches were much longer than in the House of Commons, though they were certainly more violent.

      Looking down upon the Assembly, we see how it is divided between the two great parties – the Royalists and the Republicans. Those sitting on the benches to the right of the President comprise the former of every shade – Legitimists, Orleanists, and Imperialists, while those on the left are the Republicans. Besides these two grand divisions of the Right and the Left there are minor divisions, such as the Right Centre and the Left Centre, the former wishing a Constitutional Monarchy, and the latter a Conservative Republic.

      Looking over this sea of heads, one sees some that bear great names. One indeed, and that the greatest, is not here, and is the more conspicuous by his absence. M. Thiers, to whom France owes more than to any other living man, since he retired from the Presidency, driven thereto by the factious opposition of some of the deputies, and perhaps now still more since the death of his life-long friend, De Remusat, has withdrawn pretty much from public life, and devotes himself to literary pursuits. But other notable men are here. That giant with a shaggy mane, walking up the aisle, is Jules Favre – a man who has been distinguished in Paris for a generation, both for his eloquence at the bar, and for his inflexible Republicanism, which was never shaken, even in the corrupting times of the Empire, and who in the dark days of 1870, when the Empire fell, was called by acclamation to become a member of the Provisional Government. He is the man who, when Bismarck first talked of peace on the terms of a cession of territory, proudly answered to what he thought the insulting proposal, "Not a foot of our soil, not a stone of our fortresses!" but who, some months after, had to sign with his own hand, but with a bitter heart, a treaty ceding Alsace and Lorraine, and agreeing to pay an indemnity of one thousand millions of dollars! Ah well! he made mistakes, as everybody does, but we can still admire his lion heart, even though we admit that his oratorical fervor was greater than his political sagacity. And yonder, on the left, is another shaggy head, which has appeared in the history of France, and may appear again. That is Leon Gambetta! who, shut up in Paris by the siege, and impatient for activity, escaped in a balloon, and sailing high over the camps of the German army, alighted near Amiens, and was made Minister of War, and began with his fiery eloquence, like another Peter the Hermit, to arouse the population of the provinces to a holy crusade for the extermination of the invader. This desperate energy seemed at first as if it might turn the fortunes of the war. Thousands of volunteers rushed forward to fill the ranks of the independent corps known as the Franc-tireurs. But though he rallied such numbers, he could not improvise an army; these recruits, though personally brave enough – for Frenchmen are never wanting in courage – had not the discipline which inspires confidence and wins victory. As soon as these raw levies were hurled against the German veterans, they were dashed to pieces like waves against a rock. The attempt was so daring and patriotic that it deserved success; but it was too late. Gambetta's work, however, is not ended in France. Since the war he has surprised both his friends and his enemies by taking a very conciliatory course. He does not flaunt the red flag in the eyes of the nation. So cautious and prudent is he that some of the extreme radicals, like Louis Blanc, oppose him earnestly, as seeking to found a government which is republican only in name. But he judges more wisely that the only Republic which France, with its monarchical traditions, will accept, is a conservative one, which shall not frighten capital by its wild theories of a division of property, but which, while it secures liberty, secures order also. In urging СКАЧАТЬ