Paris was crowded; but, strange to say, the hotel keepers and letters of lodgings, instead of raising their prices, lowered them considerably. This spoke well for the disposition of Paris towards us.
Truly this was not the federation of France, but the fraternal greeting of the world.
A Prussian Baron—Jean Baptiste de Clootz, better known by the name of Anacharsis—presented himself before the National Assembly with twenty men of different nations—Russians, Poles, men of the north, men of the west, men of the east, and men of the south,—all habited in the costume of their country. He came to ask permission for them to appear at the federation of the Champ de Mars, as they wished to represent the federation of the world.
Later on, this same Anacharsis Clootz wished to give twelve thousand francs, to make war against royalty.
One may imagine my astonishment on finding myself in Paris, on the Boulevards, gazing at the ruins of the Bastille.
Drouet pointed it out to me, afterwards, the patriotic workmen on the Champ de Mars. I rushed to join them; and, seizing a spade, was speedily hard at work.
My fellow-workman appeared to be an artizan of about fifty years of age. He gave orders to a boy about my age, who was close at hand.
On seeing the ardor with which I worked, he asked me who I was, and whence I came.
I told him that my name was Réné Besson; that I came from the new department of the Meuse; and that I was apprenticed to a carpenter, by trade.
When he heard this, he held out his hand, a smile illuminating his austere visage.