No one had a scarf of office.  No outward token caused them to be recognized.  The passers-by stared at them with surprise, and did not understand what was the meaning of this procession of silent men through the solitary streets of the Faubourg St. Germain.  One district of Paris was as yet unaware of the coup d’etat.

Strategically speaking, from a defensive point of view, the Mairie of the tenth Arrondissement was badly chosen.  Situated in a narrow street in that short section of the Rue de Grenelle-St.-Germain which lies between the Rue des Saints-Peres and the Rue du Sepulcre, close by the cross-roads of the Croix-Rouge, where the troops could arrive from so many different points, the Mairie of the Tenth Arrondissement, confined, commanded, and blockaded on every side, was a pitiful citadel for the assailed National Representation.  It is true that they no longer had the choice of a citadel, any more than later on they had the choice of a general.

Their arrival at the Mairie might have seemed a good omen.  The great gate which leads into a square courtyard was shut; it opened.  The post of the National Guards, composed of some twenty men, took up their arms and rendered military honors to the Assembly.  The Representatives entered, a Deputy Mayor received them with respect on the threshold of the Mairie.  “The Palace of the Assembly is closed by the troops,” said the Representatives, “we have come to deliberate here.”  The Deputy Mayor led them to the first story, and admitted them to the Great Municipal Hall.  The National Guard cried, “Long live the National Assembly!”

The Representatives having entered, the door was shut.  A crowd began to gather in the street and shouted “Long live the Assembly!” A certain number of strangers to the Assembly entered the Mairie at the same time as the Representatives.  Overcrowding was feared, and two sentries were placed at a little side-door, which was left open, with orders only to allow members of the Assembly who might come afterwards to enter.  M. Howyn Tranchere stationed himself at this door, and undertook to identify them.

On their arrival at the Mairie, the Representatives numbered somewhat under three hundred.  They exceeded this number later on.  It was about eleven o’clock in the morning.  All did not go up at once into the hall where the meeting was to take place.  Several, those of the Left in particular, remained in the courtyard, mingling with the National Guards and citizens.

They talked of what they were going to do.

This was the first difficulty.

The Father of the meeting was M. de Keratry.

Was he going to preside?

The Representatives who were assembled in the Great Hall were in his favor.

The Representatives remaining in the courtyard hesitated.

Marc Dufraisse went up to MM.  Jules de Lasteyrie and Leon de Maleville, who had stayed behind with the Representatives of the Left, and said to them, “What are they thinking of upstairs?  To make Keratry President?  The name of Keratry would frighten the people as thoroughly as mine would frighten the middle classes.”