the massacre of the Champ de Mars, etc.
Faced with such displays, doubts and misgivings are out of the question.
To the women in the galleries, to the frequenters of the clubs, and to pikemen in the suburbs it is from now beyond any doubt proved that the aristocrats are habitual killers.
And on the other side there is another sign equally alarming "This lugubrious ceremony, which ought to inspire by turns both reflection and indignation,...

did not generally produce that effect." The National Guard in uniform, who came "apparently to make up for not appearing on the day of action," did not behave themselves with civic propriety, but, on the contrary, put on "an air of inattention and even of noisy gaiety"; they come out of curiosity, like so many Parisian onlookers, and are much more numerous than the sans-culottes with their pikes.[3115] The latter could count themselves and plainly see that they are just a minority, and a very small one, and that their rage finds no echo.

The organizers and their stooges are the only ones to call for speedy sentencing and for death-penalties.

A foreigner, a good observer, who questions the shop-keepers of whom he makes purchases, the tradesmen he knows, and the company he finds in the coffee-houses, writes that he never had "seen any symptom of a sanguinary disposition except in the galleries of the National Assembly and at the Jacobin Club," but then the galleries are full of paid "applauders,' especially "females, who are more noisy and to be had cheaper than males." At the Jacobin Club are "the leaders, who dread a turnaround or who have resentments to gratify[3116]": thus the only enrages are the leaders and the populace of the suburbs .-- Lost in the crowd of this vast city, in the face of a National Guard still armed and three times their own number, confronting an indifferent or discontented bourgeoisie, the patriots are alarmed.
In this state of anxiety a feverish imagination, exasperated by the waiting, involuntarily gives birth to imaginings passionately accepted as truths.

All that is now required is an incident in order to put the final touch to complete the legend, the germ of which has unwittingly grown in their minds.
On the 1st of September a poor wagoner, Jean Julien,[3117] condemned to twelve years in irons, has been exposed in the pillory.