tors of newspapers. Among those shot in the heat of
vengeance at Satory was Valin, who had vainly tried to save the
hostages. Deleschuze, in despair at the cowardice of his associates,
quietly sought a barricade when affairs grew desperate, and standing
on it with his arms folded, was shot down. Cluseret, who had real
talent as an artist, had an exhibition a few years since of his
pictures in Paris, and writing to a friend concerning it, speaks
thus of himself:[1]

[Footnote 1: Le Figaro.]

"You can tell me the worst. When a man has passed through a life
full of vicissitudes as I have done, during seventeen years of
which I have seen many campaigns, fighting sometimes three hundred
and sixty-five days in a year, or marching and counter-marching,
without tents or anything; when one has been three times outlawed
and under sentence of death; when one has known much of imprisonment
and exile; when one has suffered from ingratitude, calumny, and
poverty,--one is pretty well seasoned, and can bear to hear the
truth."

One thousand and thirty-one women were among the prisoners at Versailles
and Satory. Many of them were women of the worst character. Eight
hundred and fifty were set at liberty; four were sent to an insane
asylum; but doctors declared that nearly every woman who fought
in the streets for the Commune was more or less insane.

The most important of all captures was that of Rochefort. He had
been a leading man in the Council of the Commune, but was so great
a favorite with men of literature, besides having strong friends
and an old schoolfellow in Thiers' cabinet, that he escaped with
transportation to the Southern Seas. On May 20, when he saw that
the end of the Commune was at hand, he procured from the Delegate
for Foreign Affairs passports for himself and his secretary. It
is thought that the delegate, enraged at Rochefort's purpose of
deserting his colleagues, betrayed him to the Prussians who held
the fort of Vincennes. The Prussians sent word to the frontier,
and there the fugitives were arrested. Rochefort had no luggage,
but in his pocket was a great deal of miscellaneous jewelry, a copy
of "Monte Cristo," and some fine cigars. Escorted by Uhlans, he
was brought to St. Germains, and delivered over to the Versailles
Government. For a long time his fate hung in the balance, and it
seemed improbable that even the exertions of M. Thiers, the President,
and Jules Favre, the Minister for Foreign Affairs, co