These representatives of the people, thus insulted beyond all endurance, were for a time in great perplexity. It so happened, however, that the curates who had voted to unite with the Third Estate, about one hundred and forty in number,[120] with the Archbishop of Vienne at their head, had met in the Church of St. Louis, intending to go from there in procession to join the Assembly. They immediately sent to the Commons an invitation to repair to the church where they were assembled, and, taking themselves the choir, left the nave for their guests. The clergy then descended and united with the Commons, where they were received with shouts, embracings, and tears. It was a solemn hour, and emotions too deep for utterance agitated all hearts. Fearful perils were now accumulating. Rumors had reached the ears of the deputies that the court intended the violent dissolution and dispersion of the Assembly. Thus would end all hopes of reform. The troops marching and countermarching, the new regiments entering the city, the hundred pieces of field artillery approaching, the cannon frowning before the door of their hall, the exultant looks and defiant bearing of their foes, all were portents of some decisive act.[121]
The morning of the 23d of June arrived. It was dark and stormy. At the appointed hour, ten o'clock, the members repaired to the hall of the Assembly to meet the king and court. In various ways they had received intimations of the measures which were to be adopted against them, and anxiety sat upon every countenance. As they approached the hall they found that the same disrespect which they had received on the 5th of May was to be repeated with aggravations. The court wished to humiliate the Commons; they did but exasperate them. The front entrance was reserved as before for the clergy and the nobles. The Commons were guided to a side door not yet opened, where they were left crowded together in the rain. They made several endeavors to gain admission, but could not, and at last sought refuge from the storm in an adjoining shed.[122]
In the mean time the two privileged classes approached with an unusual display of pompous carriages and gorgeous liveries. Files of soldiers protected them, bands of music greeted them, and with the most ostentatious parade of respect they were conducted to their seats. Then the side door was thrown open, and the Commons, with garments drenched and soiled, filed in to take the back benches left for them. They found the aristocracy in their seats, as judges awaiting the approach of criminals. The nobles and the high clergy could not repress their feelings of exultation. The Commons were now to be rebuked, condemned, and crushed.[123]
Military detachments patrolled the streets and were posted around the hall. Four thousand guards were under arms, and there were besides several regiments in the vicinity of Versailles, within an hour's call. A tumultuous mass of people from Paris and Versailles surged around the building and flooded all the adjoining avenues. As the carriage of the king and queen, surrounded by its military retinue, approached, no voice of greeting was heard. The multitude looked on silent and gloomy. The king was exceedingly dejected, for his judgment and heart alike condemned the measures he had been constrained to adopt. The queen was appalled by the ominous silence, and began to fear that they had indeed gone too far. When a few voices shouted "Vive le Duc d'Orleans!" she correctly interpreted this greeting of her implacable foes as an intended insult, and was observed to turn pale and almost to faint.
The king entered the hall with the queen, his two brothers, and his ministers, excepting Necker. The absence of Necker so exclusively arrested all thoughts, that the royal pageant was disregarded. Here again the monarch was received in silence, interrupted only by faint applause from the nobles.
The king hardly knew how to utter the arrogant, defiant words which had been put into his mouth. It was the lamb attempting to imitate the roar of the lion. He addressed a few words to the Assembly, and then placed his declaration in the hands of one of his secretaries to be read.[124]
It declared his intention to maintain the distinction of the three orders, and that they should vote separately; that they might occasionally meet together, with the consent of the king, to vote taxes. The decree of the Commons, constituting a National Assembly, was pronounced illegal and null. The deputies were forbid to receive any instructions from their constituents. No spectators were allowed to be present at the deliberations of the States-General, whether they met together or in different chambers. No innovation was to be allowed in the organization of the army. Nobles, and nobles only, were to be officers. The old feudal privileges were to remain unaltered. No ecclesiastical reforms were to be allowed, unless sanctioned by the clergy.[125]
Such were the prohibitions. Then came the benefits. The king promised to sanction equality of taxation, whenever the clergy and the nobles should consent to such taxation. The king promised to adopt any measures of finance and expenditure which the States-General should recommend, if he judged such measures compatible with the kingly dignity. He invited the States—which, be it remembered, were to be assembled in three chambers, the clergy and the nobility being thus able to outvote the Commons by two votes to one—to propose measures for abolishing lettres de cachet, measures which should not interfere with the power of repressing sedition, and of secretly punishing those whose relatives would be dishonored by their being brought to trial. They were also invited to seek the means of reconciling liberty of the press with the respect due to religion and to the honor of the citizens. In conclusion, the king threatened that if the Commons refused obedience to these declarations he would immediately dissolve the States, and again take the reins of government entirely into his own hands. This address was closed with the following words:
"I command you, gentlemen, immediately to disperse, and to repair to-morrow morning to the chambers appropriate to your order."[126]