tion is ironically made by one
of the "Right."[2234]

Great, however, as this usurpation may be, the minority, in order to
suppress the majority, accommodate themselves to it, the Jacobins in
the chamber making common cause with the Jacobins in the galleries.
The disturbers should not be put out; "it would be excluding from our
deliberations," says Grangeneuve, "that which belongs essentially to the
people." On one of the deputies demanding measures to enforce silence,
"Torne demands that the proposition be referred to the Portugal
inquisition." Choudieu "declares that it can only emanate from deputies
who forget that respect which is due to the people, their sovereign
judge."[2235] "The action of the galleries," says Lecointe-Puyraiveaux,
"is an outburst of patriotism." Finally, this same Choudieu, twisting
and turning all rights about with incomparable audacity, wishes to
confer legislative privileges on the audience, and demands a decree
against the deputies who, guilty of popular lese-majeste, presume
to complain of those who insult them.--Another piece of oppressive
machinery, still more energetic, operates outside on the approaches to
the Assembly. Like their predecessors of the Constituent Assembly, the
members of the "Right" "cannot leave the building without encountering
the threats and imprecations of enraged crowds. Cries of 'to the
lantern!' greet the ears of Dumolard, Vaublanc, Raucourd, and Lacretelle
as often as those of the Abbe Maury and Montlosier."[2236] After having
hurled abuse at the president, Mathieu Dumas, they insult his wife
who has been recognized in a reserved gallery.[2237] In the Tuileries,
crowds are always standing there listening to the brawlers who denounce
suspected deputies by name, and woe to any among them who takes that
path on his way to the chamber! A broadside of insults greets him as he
passes along. If the deputy happens to be a farmer, they exclaim: "Look
at that queer old aristocrat--an old peasant dog that used to watch
cows!" One day Hua, on going up the steps of the Tuileries terrace, is
seized by the hair by an old vixen who bids him "Bow your head to your
sovereigns, the people, you bastard of a deputy!" On the 20th of June
one of the patriots, who is crossing the Assembly room, whispers in his
ear, "You scamp of a deputy, you'll never die but by my hand!" Another
time, having defended the juge-de-paix Lariviere, there awaits him at
the door, in the middle of the night