ring houses, a large tree, if available, is cut down,
and the whole is strengthened with paving-stones. By night all
Paris had become a field of battle.

In vain Marshal Marmont had sent courier after courier to Saint-Cloud,
imploring the king and his ministers to do something that might allay
the fury of the people. No answer was returned. The marshal went
himself at last, and the king, after listening to his representation
of the state of Paris, said calmly: "Then it is really a revolt?"
"No, sire," replied Marmont; "it is not a revolt, but a revolution."

As soon as the idea of ruin broke upon the royal household, everything
at Saint-Cloud became confusion and despair. The Duchesse de Berri
wanted to take her son, the Duc de Bordeaux, into Paris, hoping
that the people would rally round a woman and the young heir to
the throne. Some implored the king to treat with the insurgents;
some to put himself at the head of his troops; some to sacrifice
the _ordonnances_ and the most obnoxious of his ministers.

The Parisian mob by this time had its blood up. It fought with any
weapons that came to hand. Muskets were loaded with type seized in
the printing-offices. At the Hotel-de-Ville, Laffitte, Lafayette,
and other leading men opposed to the policy of Charles X. were
assembled in council.

The troops at first fought in their king's cause bravely, but without
enthusiasm. Subsequently the Duke of Wellington was asked if he
could not have suppressed the revolution with the garrison of Paris,
which was twenty thousand men. He answered, "Easily; but then they
must have been fighting for a cause they had at heart."

The fight continued all the night of the 28th, bloody and furious.
By morning the soldiers were short of ammunition. As usual, the
Swiss Guard was stanch, but the French soldiers faltered. About
midday of the 29th two regiments went over to the insurgents.

Two peers were at this juncture sent to negotiate with the royal
family. The ministers, with Polignac at their head, went out also
to Saint-Cloud. "Sire," said one of the negotiators, "if in an
hour the _ordonnances_ are not rescinded, there will be neither
king nor kingdom." "Could you not offer me two hours?" said the
king, sarcastically, as he turned to leave the chamber. The envoy,
an old man, fell on his knees and seized the skirt of the king's
coat. "Think of the dauphine!" he cried, imploringly. The king
seemed moved, but made no answer.

In Paris,