It was getting nearer and nearer to the king
and his Jesuits. The Swiss had been
posted since daybreak; three behind every
double column on the first floor. At every
window and behind every parapet stood
watchful soldiers. Barricades soon rose
round the great building, especially at the
end of the Rue des Poulies: a narrow short
street leading from the Rue St. Honoré ;
on this barricade the Swiss maintained a
galling and incessant fire for several hours.
Some citizens kept up a fire from an
adjacent window in return; but it was
inefficient, and the blouses fell fast.

The attack on the Louvre was a
simultaneous one at three points: on the side of
the grand front, opposite the Pont des
Arts, and at the entrance of the Place du
Carrousel, by the river side. In the heat
of the assault two daring and catlike
blouses, following two National Guards,
climbed the barrier, and, springing forward,
gained the iron railings enclosing
the front of the Louvre, then throwing
themselves down under covert of a dwarf
wall, about two feet and a half high, they
began to open fire upon the troops,
shouting, " Vive la Nation!"  Many friends
of the climbers joined them, and so pushed
forward the attack. A young man incited
by their example, climbed the gate
and forced it open, followed by about two
hundred of his companions, in spite of
heavy and concentrated volleys of musketry.
The main body, not to be outdone, soon
followed, and before this angry inundation
the Swiss fled headlong into the Tuileries,
and in a few minutes the tricolour waved
from the windows. The Swiss who laid
down their arms were marched off quietly
to join their comrades in the Bourse.

A swarming body of some six thousand
men now fell on the Tuileries. The
onslaught commenced in the Garden of the
Infants, where two regiments of Royal
Guards were posted. The Royal Guards
mowed down the. first rank of citizens, but
an irresistible deluge then swept the soldiers
back. In the midst of the furious
rolling fire the iron railings of the palace
were rapidly and resolutely hammered
down. Still resistance at many points was
bloody and obstinate, and from the Pavilion
of Flora a constant firing was kept up by
the Swiss, on the Pont Royal. Incessant
musket shots came also from the apartments
of the Duchesse d'Angoulême. A
breach was at last made along twenty feet
of the railing, on the Rue Rivoli side. The
blouse who first entered a lower window
of the long-dreaded Pavilion of Flora fell
out again, grappling with two Swiss for
life or death. Then the crowd surged in,
and all was over. Instantly from many
windows showers of torn-up proclamations
and broken furniture were tossed on to
the Quai, and tricoloured flags waved
rejoicingly from the summit of the grand
central pavilion. Thousands of armed
and unarmed men scampered like mad
schoolboys up the resounding staircases.
A crowd of rough burly fellows, penetrating
into the bedroom of the Duchess of
Berry, sniffed at the scented soaps, and tore
down the satin bed-hangings. The portraits
of fat Louis the Sixteenth, sentimentally
distributing alms on a winter's day, and
that of Louis the Eighteenth (the corpulent
old epicure, who, some wit of 1814 said,
looked like both the father and the mother of
his people) were respected; but the portrait
in the Salle des Maréchaux, of Marmont,
the detested, was in a moment torn down
and stamped to pieces. The throne-room
and the king's bedroom were explored, but
nothing was stolen. In the excitement of
the first rush some of the leaders tore down
the red silk curtains, and slashed them with
their swords into flags or sashes, while
others broke down some of the gilt
mouldings for pike staves. The victors
also flung quantities of birds of paradise
feathers, and rich millinery, contemptuously
out of window. A lucky blouse at last
stumbled on his majesty's private stock
of wines. The day was burning, and fighting
is warm work. The conquerors had
been drinking Seine water from wooden
bowls. The temptation was irresistible.
They knocked the necks off the bottles,
and gulped down the fine Madeira. But
there was no other plundering. M. Eugene
Lovat, who had been at the head of the
assailants, remained in the palace until
night, with his pistols in his hands, guarding
the property.

"Restez tranquille, mon capitaine," cried
a blouse. " We have changed our governments,
but not our consciences."

In many instances the forbearance
reached an extraordinary height. Two
artisans, who first broke into the apartment
of the Duchess of Berry, discovered a bronze
casket containing a large sum in gold.
They tried to carry the treasure to the
Hôtel de Ville, but finding it too heavy,
rested in the court of the Louvre, and
begged the aid of a passing citizen. The
three men deposited their burden in the
Hôtel de Ville, without claiming or receiving