And this is exactly the point of time at which we stand, namely, the 11th of March, 1778, 6 o’clock in the evening; all the inhabitants of a little village assembled in a circle round a fifer and drummer, gaping and staring with all their might—Jean Louis Jacquot, alias Joseph, all eyes and ears, holding his woollen cap in his hand, in wooden shoes,—like all the rest of the parti-coloured audience,—and awaiting with patience and respect until the charivari shall cease, and His Most Christian Majesty’s recruiting sergeant begin his harangue—which he did in form and manner following:—
"Frenchmen and countrymen! Vive le Roi! (…)"