It was under these auspices that the 20th of June dawned.  A second council, more secret and less numerous than the former, had assembled the men destined to put these designs into execution, and they only separated at midnight.  Each of them went to his post, awoke his most trusty followers, and stationed them in small groups, to stop and assemble together the workmen, as they quitted their homes.  Santerre answered for the neutrality of the national guard.  “Do not fear,” said he; “Petion will be there.”  Petion in reality had on the previous evening ordered the battalions of the national guard to get under arms, not to oppose the columns of the people, but to fraternise with the petitioners and swell the cortege of sedition.  This equivocal measure at once saved the responsibility of Petion to the department, and his complicity before the assembled people; to the one he said I watch; to the other, I march with you.

At daybreak the battalions were assembled, and their arms piled on all the grandes places.  Santerre harangued his on the Place de la Bastille, whilst around him flocked an immense throng, agitated, impatient, ready to rush upon the city at his signal.  Uniforms and rags were blended, and detachments of invalides, gendarmes, national guards, and volunteers, received the orders of Santerre, and repeated them to the crowd.  An instinctive discipline prevailed amidst this disorder, and the half military half civil appearance of this camp of the people gave the Assembly rather the character of a warlike expedition than an emeute.  This throng recognised leaders, manoeuvred at their command, followed their flags, obeyed their voice, and even controlled their impatience to await reinforcements and give detached bodies the appearance of a simultaneous movement.  Santerre on horseback, surrounded by a staff of men of the faubourgs, issued his orders, fraternised with the citizens and insurgents, recommended the people to remain silent and dignified, and slowly formed the columns, ready for the signal to march.

X.

At eleven o’clock the people set out for the quartier of the Tuileries.  The number of men who left the Place de la Bastille was estimated at twenty thousand; they were divided into three bodies, the first composed of the battalions of the faubourg, armed with sabres and bayonets, obeyed Santerre; the second, composed of the lowest rabble, without arms or only armed with pikes and sticks, was under the orders of the demagogue Saint-Huruge; the third, a confused mass of squalid men, women, and children, followed, in a disorderly march, a young and beautiful woman in male attire, a sabre in her hand, a musket on her shoulder, and seated on a cannon drawn by a number of workmen.  This was Theroigne de Mericourt.

Santerre was well known:  he was the king of the faubourgs.  Saint-Huruge had been, since ’89, the great agitator of the Palais Royal.