The bluffness of the national party was lessened. The old town where Attila lost himself, and which now preserved its trade only in the wines of Champagne, was inhabited by Royalists of the better class, and by poor gentlemen. These good people were sorely vexed to see their unhappy King in such doleful plight.
They expected his arrival; consequently a great supper was prepared.
The King and Queen partook of the meal in public, as they did at Varennes. A sort of royal drawing-room was held. The ladies bore with them immense bouquets. The Queen was positively overwhelmed with flowers.
They determined to start on the morrow, feeling an increase of confidence on account of the reception they had met with.
Before they set out, mass was celebrated at ten o’clock by M. Charber, perpetual-curate of Notre Dame. The King was present, accompanied by the Queen and the royal family; but hardly had the solemn service commenced, before a disturbance was made.
It was the National Guard of Rheims, who wished the King to set out at once. The time spent in mass appeared to them wasted, as they had come solely to gloat over the downfall of monarchy, and the ruin of their King. They broke open, therefore, the doors of the chapel, despite the resistance offered to them by the National Guard.
The King and Queen were advised to show themselves at the balcony. They did so; but the sight of their august persons exasperated, in place of calming, the turbulence of the excited populace, who shouted for the royal family to leave their city, and actually drew the carriages to the door, harnessed the horses, and did, in fact, all they could do to accelerate the departure of the King.
The King appeared again at the balcony, and pronounced the following words:—
“Since you oblige me to leave you, I go!”