The drum and the distant noise of a crowd summoned us to the terrace, where, from the grille of the town issued above 1,500 persons, headed by some National Guards in their uniform, and some decent-looking persons in plain clothes, with muskets and cross-belts; the rest were a motley tribe of all sort of figures, with all sort of arms, or no arms at all—ragged citizens, some with an old sabre, some with a pistol, &c. &c., but all perfectly quiet. They were divided into six companies, and sat down on the grass alleys, under the trees of the terrace, resting from their march from Nantes of four leagues, which they had made this morning. […] We walked among them and talked to them; there was no violence nor threats from them. We told them they would find nobody to fight at Paris; that there everybody was of one mind. No matter; they would go to show their goodwill, and what the deputies had to count on. Their banners spoke the same great language; they were all La Charte et Paris. No mention of La Nation and Fraternité, and the extreme opinions of the former Revolution. After eating and drinking, they, by way of resting themselves, began dancing—rounds of fifty men together—to their own singing, and then playing at single-stick (for which it seems Normandy is famous).