wished to get a bit of the ruin, as visitors to
Paris eagerly bought bits of siege bread framed and glazed, and there
was a general rush towards the place; but the National Guards crossed,
their bayonets in front of the barricade, and no one was allowed to
pass. So that the crowd quickly dispersed to its respective dinners. "It
is fallen!" said some to those who had not been fortunate enough to see
the sight. "The head of the statue came off--no one was killed." The
boys cried out, "Oh, it was a jolly sight all the same!" But the greater
part of the people were silent as they trudged away.

Then night came on, and next day a land-mark and a finger-post seemed
missing in our every-day journey. Until we lose a familiar object we
hardly appreciate its existence.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 95: Abadie arranged to demolish the Colonne Vendome for 32,000
or 38,000 francs, forfeiting 600 francs for every day's delay after the
fourth of May. This reduced the sum to be paid to him by 6000 francs.]

[Footnote 96: Regarding Courbet and the destruction of the Column, he
rejects the accusation on the ground that this decree had been voted
previously to his admission in the Commune, and on the request he had
made under the Government of the 4th of May of removing the column to
the esplanade of the Invalides. He affirms that the official paper has
altered his own words at the Commune, and he pretends having proposed to
the Government to rebuild the column at his own expense, if it can be
proved that he has been the cause of its destruction.]

LXXXVII.

On the sixteenth, I received a prospectus through my concierge. There
was to be a concert, mixed with speeches--a sort of popular fete at the
Tuileries. The places varied in price from ten sous to five francs. Five
francs the Salle des Marechaux; ten sous the garden, which was to be
illuminated with Venetian lamps among the orange-trees; the whole to be
enlivened by fireworks from the Courbevoie batteries.

I had tact enough not to put on white gloves, and set out for the
palace.

It was not a fairy-like sight; indeed, it was a most depressing
spectacle. A crowd of thieves and vagabonds, of dustmen and rag-pickers,
with four or five gold bands on their sleeves and caps, (the insignia of
officers of the National Guard), were hurrying along down the grand
staircase, chewing "imperiales," spitting, and repeating the old jokes
of '93. As to the women--they were sadly out of pla