"Sire, the Assembly is formed, and has deputed us to inform your majesty."
Upon reporting the result of their mission, some of the deputies were offended that the ancient titles of royalty had been retained.
"I demand," cried one, "that this title of majesty be no longer employed."
"I demand," exclaimed another, "that this title of Sire be abolished. It is only an abbreviation of Seigneur, which recognizes a sovereignty in the man to whom it is given. There is no other majesty here than that of the law and the people. Let us leave the king no other title than that of King of the French."
In the room there was a gilded chair, raised above the seat of the president, which was occupied by the king when he attended the Assembly. It had always been a respectful custom for the members to remain uncovered when the king was present, and to stand while he addressed them. It was the custom for the king, in addressing the Assembly, to be seated and to wear his hat.
"Let this scandalous gilded chair be removed," another said. "Let an equality exist between us and the king as regards ceremony. When he is uncovered and standing, let us stand and uncover our heads. When he is covered and seated, let us sit and wear our hats."
These decrees, abolishing the respect due to rank, and the courtesies so essential to mitigate the ferocity of political strife, were promptly passed. The Constitutional party throughout France were generally mortified and alarmed, and the king was deeply wounded. He declared that the Constitution did not require of him to expose the monarchical dignity to insult, and that he would not preside at the opening of the legislative body in person, but would assign the duty to his ministers.[303] Alarmed by the decision of the king and by the indications of public disapproval, the Assembly, after a debate of two days, repealed the obnoxious decrees.
The Jacobins regarded the repeal as a defeat, and in the Assembly, in their clubs, and in their journals, did what they could to rouse the indignation of the populace. The royalist journals also united with them in the attempt to overwhelm this return to moderation with derision. "See," they cried, "how contemptible is this revolution; how conscious of its own weakness. See, in two days, how often it has given itself the lie." The Royalists still persisted in their endeavor to goad the revolutionary party to every conceivable outrage, that Europe might be more effectually roused to crush the Revolution.[304]
On the 7th the king proceeded to the Assembly. He was received, apparently, with unanimous applause, some shouting energetically "Vive le Roi!" and others, still more energetically, "Vive sa majesté!" The king's speech was conciliatory, and was received with warm approval. The members of the Assembly, however, retained their seats while the king was addressing them. Louis regarded this as an insult, and it wounded him most keenly.
The queen attended the sitting in a private box. The disrespect with which the king was treated pierced her very soul. She sat as in a stupor of silence, her countenance, pallid and wan, betraying the bitterness of her anguish. The king, upon leaving the Assembly, hastened immediately to the private apartment of the queen. He was so pale and agitated that the queen uttered an exclamation of surprise. The unhappy monarch threw himself upon a sofa, and, pressing a handkerchief to his eyes, said,