ffers from her friends
in fight--whilst Strasbourg--in crape--mourns the foe of France._]

[Illustration]

Eight or ten men come flying down the Chaussee d'Antin; they join,
crying out, "The Versaillais have taken the barracks; they are
establishing a battery. Delescluze has been captured at the Ministere de
la Guerre."--"It is false!" exclaims a vivandiere; "we have just seen
him at the Hotel de Ville."--"Yes, yes," cry out other women, "he is at
the Hotel de Ville. He gave us a mitrailleuse. Jules Valles embraced us,
one after another; he is a fine man, he is! He told us all was going
well, that the Versaillais should never have Paris, that we shall
surround them, and that it will all be over in two days."--"Vive la
Commune!" is the reply. The barricade is by this time finished. They
expect to be attacked every second. "You," said a sergeant, "you had
better be off, if you care for your life." I do not wait for the man to
repeat his warning. I retrace my steps up the Boulevard, which is less
solitary than it was. Several groups are standing at the doors. It
appears quite certain that the troops of the Assembly have been pretty
successful since they came in. The Federals, surprised by the suddenness
and number of the attacks, at first lost much ground. But the resistance
is being organised. They hold their own at the Place de la Concorde; at
the Place Vendome they are very numerous, and have at their disposal a
formidable amount of artillery. Montmartre is shelling furiously. I turn
up the Rue Vivienne, where I meet several people in search of news. They
tell me that "two battalions of the Faubourg Saint Germain have just
gone over to the troops, with their muskets reversed. A captain of the
National Guard has been the first in that quarter to unfurl the
tricolour. A shell had set fire to the Ministere des Finances, but the
firemen in the midst of the shot and shell had managed to put it out."
At the Place de la Bourse I find three of four hundred Federals
constructing a barricade; having gained some experience, I hurry on to
escape the trouble of being pressed into the service. The surrounding
streets are almost deserted; Paris is in hiding. The cannonading is
becoming more furious every minute. I cross the garden of the Palais
Royal. There I see a few loiterers, a knot of children are skipping. The
Rue de Rivoli is all alive with people. A battalion marches hurriedly
from the Hotel de Ville; at the head rides a youn