h
masquerade often occurs several times a week and is always the same,
with scarcely any variation.--Male and female wretches march in
procession to the doors of the deputies' hall, still "drunk with the
wine imbibed from chalices, after eating mackerel broiled in patens,"
besides refreshing themselves on the way. "Mounted astride of asses
which they have rigged out in chasuble and which they guide with a
stole," they halt at each low smoking-den, holding a drinking cup in
their hand; the bartender, with a mug in his hand, fills it, and, at
each station, they toss off their bumpers, one after the other, in
imitation of the Mass, and which they repeat in the street in their own
fashion.--On finishing this, they don copes, chasubles and dalmatica,
and, in two long lines, file before the benches of the Convention. Some
of them bear on hand-barrows or in baskets, candelabra, chalices, gold
and silver salvers, monstrances, and reliquaries; others hold aloft
banners, crosses and other ecclesiastical spoils. In the mean time
"bands play the air of the carmagnole and 'Malbrook.'... On the entry
of the dais, they strike up 'Ah! le bel oiseau;'"[3219] all at once the
masqueraders throw off their disguise, and, mitres, stoles, chasubles
flung in the air, "disclose to view the defenders of the country in the
national uniform." Peals of laughter, shouts and enthusiasm, while the
instrumental din becomes louder! The procession, now in full blast,
demands the carmagnole, and the Convention consents; even some of the
deputies descend from their benches and cut the pigeon-wing with the
merry prostitutes.--To wind up, the Convention decrees that it will
attend that evening the fete of Reason and, in fact, they go in a body.
Behind an actress in short petticoats wearing a red cap, representing
Liberty or Reason, march the deputies, likewise in red caps, shouting
and singing until they reach the new temple, which is built of planks
and pasteboard in the choir of Notre Dame. They take their seats in the
front rows, while the Goddess, an old frequenter of the suppers of the
Duc de Soubise, along with "all the pretty dames of the Opera,"
display before them their operatic graces.[3220] They sing the "Hymn
to Liberty," and, since the Convention has that morning decreed that
it must sing, I suppose that it also joined in.[3221] After this there
follows dancing; but, unfortunately, the authorities are wanting for
stating whether the Convention da