THE NATIONAL ASSEMBLY.
First Acts of the Assembly.--Confusion of the Court.--Hall of
the Assembly closed.--Adjournment to the Tennis-court.--Cabinet
Councils.--Despotic Measures.--The Tennis-court closed.--Exultation
of the Court.--Union with the Clergy.--Peril of the Assembly.--The
Royal Sitting.--Speech of the King.
The first measure adopted by the National Assembly was worthy of
itself. It was voted that the taxes already decreed, though not legally
assessed by the consent of the nation, should be punctiliously paid.
Instead of repudiating the enormous public debt, they appropriated it
as their own and placed it under the safeguard of the nation. They
then appointed a committee immediately to attend to the distresses
of the people, and to devise measures for their relief. How vast the
contrast between this magnanimity of the people and the selfishness and
corruption of the court, as developed through ages! Thus terminated
the eventful 17th of June, 1789, which may almost be considered the
birthday of the nation of France. Before this event the _people_ had
hardly a recognized existence. Though the cradle of its infancy has
been rocked with storms, and though in its advancing manhood it has
encountered fearful perils and the sternest conflicts, yet its progress
is surely onward to dignity and repose.
At an early hour the Assembly adjourned. Couriers from the hall
hastened to expectant Paris with the glad tidings. The most fervid
imagination can not conceive the joyful enthusiasm which the
intelligence excited in the metropolis and throughout France. The king
and his court were at this time a few miles from Versailles, in the
Palace of Marly. The clergy and the nobles, in consternation, sent a
committee of their most prominent members to implore the interposition
of the royal power.[111] But the king had not sufficient nerve for so
decisive an act. It was urged that the nobility and the clergy should
immediately combine in forming a united body which should constitute
an upper house; and thus naturally the kingdom would have fallen into
a monarchy like that of England, with its House of Lords and its House
of Commons. This would have been a most salutary reform, and would have
prepared the way for the gradual and safe advance of the nation from
servitude to freedom. But, with madness almost inconceivable, the high
nobility with contempt repelled all idea of union.[112] They deemed it
a degradation to form a permanent association with the lower clergy
and with men who had been within a few centuries ennobled by a decree
of the king. Thus the formation of two separate chambers was rendered
impossible by the folly of those very men whose existence depended
upon it. Thus all was confusion and dismay with the nobles and the
clergy, while unanimity and vigor pervaded every movement of the
Assembly.[113]
In this state of affairs a large proportion of the clergy, composing
nearly all the parish ministers, were in favor of uniting with the
Assembly. The Duke of Orleans also, among the nobility, led a small
minority of the nobles in advocacy of the same measure. But the court
generally entreated the king immediately to dissolve the Assembly,
by violence if needful. The popular excitement in Paris and in
Versailles became intense. The only hope of the people was in the
Assembly. Its dissolution left them hopeless and in despair. The king
was vacillating, intensely anxious to crush the popular movement,
now become so formidable, but still fearing to adopt those energetic
measures by which alone it could be accomplished. He at length decided,
in accordance with that system of folly with which the court seems to
have been inspired, to resort to the very worst measure which could
have been adopted. On Friday the 17th of June the majority of the
clergy, consisting of a few prelates and about one hundred and forty
curates, resolved to withdraw from the dignitaries of the Church and
unite with the people, in the Assembly, the next day. The prospect of
such an accession to the popular branch struck consternation into the
ranks of the privileged classes. A delegation of bishops and nobles in
the night hastened to the king at Marly, and persuaded him to interfere
to prevent the junction.
Yielding to their importunities he consented to shut up the hall of
Assembly the next day, and to guard the entrance with soldiers, so
that there might be no meeting. As an excuse for this act of violence
it was to be alleged that the hall was needed for workmen to put up
decorations, in preparation for a royal sitting which was to be held on
Monday. The king thus gained time to decide upon the measures which he
would announce at the royal sitting.[114]
At six o'clock in the morning of Saturday, placards were posted through
the streets of Versailles announcing this decree. At seven o'clock,
M. Bailly, president of the Assembly, received a note from one of the
officers of the king's household, informing him of the decision. The
Assembly had adjourned the evening before to meet at eight o'clock
in the morning. It was, of course, proper that such a communication
should have been made, not to the president at his lodgings, but to the
assembled body. It was a stormy morning; sheets of rain, driven by a
fierce wind, flooded the streets. At the appointed hour the president,
accompanied by several deputies, approached the hall. They found the
door guarded by a detachment of the royal troops, and a large number
of the representatives assembled before it. Admission was positively
refused, and it was declared that any attempt to force an entrance
would be repelled by the bayonet.[115]
[Illustration: THE DOORS OF THE ASSEMBLY CLOSED AND GUARDED.]
The Assembly and the people were greatly alarmed: measures of violence
were already commenced. Their immediate dissolution was menaced,
and thus were to perish all hopes of reform. The rain still fell in
torrents. There was no hall in Versailles to which they could resort.
Some proposed immediately adjourning to Paris, where they could throw
themselves upon the protection of the masses. This measure, however,
was rejected as too revolutionary in its aspect. One suggested that
there was in the city an old dilapidated tennis-court, and it was
immediately resolved to assemble upon its pavements. The six hundred
deputies, now roused to the highest pitch of excitement and followed by
a vast concourse of sympathizing and applauding people, passed through
the streets to the unfurnished tennis-court. Here, with not even a seat
for the president, the Assembly was organized, and Bailly, in a firm
voice, administered the following oath, which was instantly repeated in
tones so full and strong, by every lip, as to reach the vast concourse
which surrounded the building:
"We solemnly swear never to separate, and to assemble wherever
circumstances shall require, until the constitution of the kingdom is
established, and founded on a solemn basis."
Every deputy then signed this declaration excepting one man; and this
Assembly so nobly respected private liberty as to allow him to enter
his protest upon the declaration.
It was now four o'clock in the afternoon, and the Assembly, having
immortalized the place as the cradle of liberty, adjourned.
The next day was the Sabbath, and Monday had been appointed for the
royal sitting. The excitement of the court at Marly now amounted almost
to a tumult of consternation. Necker, the minister, was proposing
measures of conciliation, and had drawn up a plan which would probably
have been accepted by the people, for none then wished for the
overthrow of the monarchy.[116] All the leaders in the Assembly were
united in the desire to preserve the monarchical form of government.
Surrounded as they were by thrones, England, not America, was their
model. They wished for a constitutional monarchy where the voice of the
people should be heard, and where all the citizens should live in the
enjoyment of equal rights. Their wishes were wise and noble. Necker,
closeted in council with the king and his cabinet, had at last brought
the king and the majority of the cabinet over to his views, when an
officer of the household came in and whispered to the king. The king
immediately arose, and, requesting the council to await his return,
left the room.
"This can only be a message from the queen," said M. de Montmorin
to Necker; "the princes of the blood have got her to interfere, and
persuade the king to adjourn his decision."
It was so. After half an hour the king returned, declined giving his
assent to the plan till after another meeting, and dismissed the
council. The royal sitting was also postponed until Tuesday.
On Monday, the 22d, the king held another council at Versailles. His
two brothers, Count of Provence (Louis XVIII.) and Count d'Artois
(Charles X.), with four other dignitaries of the privileged class,
met with the council and took an active part in their deliberations.
The project of Necker was here discussed and almost indignantly
rejected. And yet the most earnest Royalists admit that it was
extremely favorable to the privileged class, and no Republican can
read it without being surprised that so much could then have been
yielded by the people to aristocratic assumption.[117] But still this
plan, in which Necker had gone to the utmost extreme of concession to
propitiate the court, was peremptorily rejected, and another, insulting
in its tone, imperious in its exactments, and utterly despotic in its
principles, was adopted, and the Assembly was to be sternly dissolved.
Necker remonstrated in vain, and at last, in mortification and despair,
declared that he could not countenance such a message by his presence,
and that he should be under the necessity of resigning his ministry.
The feeble, vacillating king was in judgment and in heart with Necker,
as were also one or two other of the ministers; but the queen,
inheriting the spirit of Austrian despotism, acting through the two
brothers of the king and the majority of the court, carried her point.
This agitated discussion continued until midnight of Sunday, and then
it was too late to propose the defiant message for the next day. The
royal sitting was consequently postponed until Tuesday.[118]
To prevent the Assembly from meeting in the tennis-court on Monday,
where the curates could join them, the Count d'Artois sent word to the
keeper that he wished for the tennis-court on that day to play. On
Monday morning, when the Assembly, according to its adjournment, met
at the door, they found the entrance guarded, and they were excluded
under the plea that the Count d'Artois wished for the room for his
own amusement. Thus an Assembly, now consisting of seven or eight
hundred of the most illustrious men of France, the representatives of
twenty-five millions of people, were driven again into the streets,
because a young nobleman wished for their room that he might play a
game of ball.
Some of the younger deputies, exasperated by such treatment, were in
favor of forcing an entrance. But armed bands, all under aristocratic
officers, were parading the streets, bayonets glittered around the
hall, and fifty thousand troops were within summons. The court did not
disguise its merriment as it again contemplated the Assembly wandering
houseless like vagabonds in the street. The nobles now felt exultant.
They had compelled the king to adopt their plan. The Assembly was to
be dismissed in disgrace, and an ample force of infantry, cavalry,
and artillery was at hand to carry out their arrogant decree. They no
longer feared the Assembly. They no longer hesitated openly to deride
them.[119]
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]
The king then, with his attendant court, left the hall. A large part
of the nobility and nearly all the bishops followed him. Exultation
beamed upon their faces, for they supposed that the National Assembly
was now effectually crushed.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 111: Michelet, vol. i., p. 105.]
[Footnote 112: "The party which professed to be the defender of the
throne spoke with infinite disdain of the authority of the King
of England. To reduce a King of France to the miserable condition
of the British monarch was, in the bare conception, heinous and
treasonable."--_Considerations on the French Revolution, by Madame de
Staël._]
[Footnote 113: Madame de Staël, vol. i., p. 106.]
[Footnote 114: Michelet, vol. i., p. 106.
The Marquis of Ferrières, a deputy of the nobles and an earnest
advocate of aristocratic assumption, writes in his Mémoires: "The
court, unable any longer to hide from themselves the real truth that
all their petty expedients to separate the orders served only to
bring on their union, resolved to dissolve the States-General. It
was necessary to remove the king from Versailles, to get Necker and
the ministers attached to him out of the way. A journey to Marly was
arranged. The pretext was the death of the dauphin. The mind of the
king was successfully worked upon. He was told it was high time to stop
the unheard-of enterprises of the Third Estate; that he would soon have
only the name of a king. The Cardinal Rochefoucault and the Archbishop
of Paris threw themselves at the feet of the king and supplicated him
to save the clergy and protect religion. The Parliament sent a secret
deputation proposing a scheme for getting rid of the States-General.
The keeper of the seals, the Count d'Artois, the queen, all united.
All was therefore settled, and an order from the king announced a
royal sitting and suspended the States under the pretense of making
arrangements in the hall."]
[Footnote 115: "The deputies stand grouped on the Paris road, on this
umbrageous _Avenue de Versailles_, complaining aloud of the indignity
done them. Courtiers, it is supposed, look from their windows and
giggle."--_Carlyle_, vol. i., p. 156.
"Is it decent," writes M. Bailly in his Memoirs, "that the members
of the National Assembly, or even the deputies of the Commons, as
you may still please to consider them, should thus be apprised of
the intentions of the king, of the suspension of their own sittings,
only by the public criers and by notices posted on the wall, as the
inhabitants of a town would be made acquainted with the shutting up of
a theatre?"]
[Footnote 116: "It is quite certain that, mixed with a little personal
vanity, the most sincere wish for the happiness of France, and the
happiness of mankind, was the ruling motive with Necker."--_Lectures on
the French Revolution, by Wm. Smyth_, vol. i., p. 287.
"Let us not forget that at that period the whole Assembly was Royalist,
without excepting a single member."--_Michelet_, vol. i., p. 108.]
[Footnote 117: For a full detail of this project see OEuvres de
Necker, vol. vi., p. 119. Necker is condemned by Michelet with
merciless severity for presenting a project which, though it secured
a few reforms, still allowed the despotic court such sway. But if the
minister could not carry even this project, what could he have done
with one making still greater demands? The British government, with its
king and its houses of lords and commons, was Necker's model; though
he still allowed the court powers which would not be tolerated by
the people of Great Britain for an hour. But the French court looked
with _contempt_ upon the limited powers of the king and the nobles of
England, and would consent to no approximation to the government which
prevailed there. The _Tiers Etat_ would have been more than satisfied
with the English Constitution. No one then desired the overthrow of the
monarchy.]
[Footnote 118: Smyth, Lectures on French Revolution, i., 192; Michelet,
i., 110.]
[Footnote 119: Michelet, i., 110.]
[Footnote 120: M. Rabaud de St. Etienne, p. 53, says that the clergy
voted for union one hundred and forty-nine voices against one hundred
and twenty-six.]
[Footnote 121: "The nobility that I converse with," writes Arthur
Young, "are most disgustingly tenacious of all old rights, however
hard they may bear upon the people. They will not hear of giving way
in the least to the spirit of liberty beyond the point of paying equal
land-taxes, which they hold to be all that can with reason be demanded."
"It was only very late," writes Wm. Smyth, "and when too late, that
they reached even this point."]
[Footnote 122: M. Rabaud de St. Etienne, i., 56.]
[Footnote 123: Id., 57; Michelet, i., 112.]
[Footnote 124: Hist. Parl., vol. ii., p. 15.]
[Footnote 125: "The nobles having applauded the article consecrating
feudal rights, loud, distinct voices were heard to utter, 'Silence
there!'"--_Michelet_, vol. i., p. 115.]
[Footnote 126: Mr. Alison strangely says that "These decrees contained
the whole elements of rational freedom, abolished pecuniary privileges,
regulated the expenses of the royal household, secured the liberty of
the press, regulated the criminal code, and the personal freedom of the
subject."--_Alison, Hist. of Europe_, vol. i., p. 74. The French people
did not think so. See Michelet's indignant rejection of the mockery of
these decrees.--_Mich., Hist. Fr. Rev._, vol. i., p. 115. M. Rabaud de
St. Etienne, member of the Assembly, writes, "In these benefits which
the king was thus promising to the nation, no mention was made either
of the constitution so much desired, or of the participation of the
States-General in all acts of legislation, or of the responsibility
of ministers, or of the liberty of the press; and almost every thing
which constitutes civil liberty was passed over in total silence.
Nevertheless, the pretensions of the privileged orders were maintained,
the despotism of the ruler was sanctioned, and the States-General were
abased and subject to his power."--_Hist. of Rev. of Fr._, vol. i., p.
56.
The Marquis of Ferrières writes, "The hall was surrounded by soldiers
and by guards. Every thing about the throne was silent and melancholy.
The declaration itself satisfied no one; and the king spoke rather
like a despot who commanded than a monarch who discussed with the
representatives of his people the interests of a great nation."]