having been chosen to aid in this "heroic act."
He also alludes to the drawing of lots, and I begin after all to fancy
poor M. Thiers must be at the bottom of it all, but he continues:
--"Citizens, what can I say after the eloquent discourse of
Felix Pyat? You are about to interest yourselves in an act of
fraternity...." (then something horrible is surely contemplated) "in
hoisting your banner on the walls of our city, and mixing in our ranks
against our enemies of Versailles." A sudden light breaks upon me. In
the meantime Citizen Beslay is embracing the nearest Freemason, while
another begs the honour of being the first to plant his banner, the
Perseverance, which was unfurled in 1790, on the ramparts. Here a band
plays the "Marseillaise," horribly out of tune; a red flag is given to
the Freemasons, with an appropriate harangue; then the Citizen Terifocq
takes back the flag, with another harangue, and ends by waving it aloft
and roaring, "Now, citizens, no more words; to action!"
This is clear, the Freemasons are to hoist their banner on to the walls
of Paris side by side with the standard of the Commune; and who is blind
enough to imagine, that the shells and bullets, indiscriminately
homicidal, fratricidal, and infanticidal as they prove, are imbued with
tact sufficient to steer clear of the Freemasons' banners, and injure in
their flight only those of the Commune? As the Versailles projectiles
have only one end in view, that of piercing both the Parisians and their
standards, as a national consequence if both Parisians and standards are
pierced, it is likewise most probable that the Masonic banners will not
remain unscathed in so dangerous a neighbourhood. And if so, what will
be the result? According to Citizen Terifocq "the Freemasons of Paris
will call to their aid the direst vengeance; the Masons of all the
provinces of France will follow their example; everywhere the brothers
will fraternise with the troops which are marching on to help Paris. On
the other hand, if the Versailles gunners do not aim at the Masons, but
only at the National Guards (_sic!_), then the Masons will join the
battalions in the field, and encourage by their example the gallant
soldiers, defenders of the city." This is all rather complicated--what
can come of it? Escorted by an ever-increasing crowd, we reach the Place
de la Bastille. Several discourses are spouted forth at the foot of the
column, but the combined effects of noise, dust
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