in hand, posting the Proclamation at every street corner, even next to the Maupas placard, which threatened the penalty of death to any one who should be found posting an appeal to arms.  Groups read the two bills at the same time.  We may mention an incident which ought to be noted, a sergeant of the line, in uniform, in red trousers, accompanied him and protected him.  He was doubtless a soldier who had lately left the service.

The time fixed on the preceding evening for the general rendezvous was from nine to ten in the morning.  This hour had been chosen so that there should be time to give notice to all the members of the Left; it was expedient to wait until the Representatives should arrive, so that the group should the more resemble an Assembly, and that its manifestation should have more authority on the Faubourg.

Several of the Representatives who had already arrived had no sash of office.  Some were made hastily in a neighboring house with strips of red, white, and blue calico, and were brought to them.  Baudin and De Flotte were amongst those who girded on these improvised sashes.

Meanwhile it was not yet nine o’clock, when impatience already began to be manifested around them.[9]

Many shared this glorious impatience.

Baudin wished to wait.

“Do not anticipate the hour,” said he; “let us allow our colleagues time to arrive.”

But they murmured round Baudin, “No, begin, give the signal, go outside.  The Faubourg only waits to see your sashes to rise.  You are few in number, but they know that your friends will rejoin you.  That is sufficient.  Begin.”

The result proved that this undue haste could only produce a failure.  Meanwhile they considered that the first example which the Representatives of the People ought to set was personal courage.  The spark must not be allowed to die out.  To march the first, to march at the head, such was their duty.  The semblance of any hesitation would have been in truth more disastrous than any degree of rashness.

Schoelcher is of an heroic nature, he has the grand impatience of danger.

“Let us go,” he cried; “our friends will join us, let us go outside.”

They had no arms.

“Let us disarm the post which is over there,” said Schoelcher.

They left the Salle Roysin in order, two by two, arm in arm.  Fifteen or twenty men of the people escorted them.  They went before them, crying, “Long live the Republic!  To arms!”

Some children preceded and followed them, shouting, “Long live the Mountain!”

The entrances of the closed shops were half opened.  A few men appeared at the doors, a few women showed themselves at the windows.  Knots of workmen going to their work watched them pass.  They cried, “Long live our Representatives!  Long live the Republic!”

Sympathy was everywhere, but insurrection nowhere.  The procession gathered few adherents on the way.