ood advantage, guarding the palace and the bridges over the
Seine to the south. For a while all went well. The insurrection began
slowly; and when it did roll up as far as the bridges Mandat's musketry
held it easily at bay.

The insurrectional Commune now realized that Mandat was a considerable
obstacle and set to work to remove him. In his official station as a
national guard commander he was {145} under the jurisdiction of the
mayor, so Petion was made to write, ordering him to report at the Hotel
de Ville. Mandat declined to obey. The attack still hung fire. The
order was repeated. Mandat, this time, weakly allowed himself to be
persuaded into compliance. He proceeded to the Hotel de Ville,--and was
butchered on the stairs by a band of insurgents.

After the defence had lost its general, and with daylight over the scene,
events moved fast. The national guards at the palace could not be kept
to their posts in the absence of their chief and in presence of the
swelling numbers of the attackers. The defence of the bridges had to be
given up and the Swiss withdrew into the palace. A lull followed while
the insurrection gathered up its strength for the attack on the Tuileries
itself.

During that lull, at half past eight, Louis, with his family, left the
palace. He believed resistance useless; he feared a massacre might
occur; he was averse as ever to bloodshed; and so was persuaded that his
best course would be to seek refuge in the assembly.

Just as Louis left, the real attack was delivered on the palace. The
Swiss replied with musketry, sallied out, charged the insurgents {146}
and drove them across the Carrousel; then they returned, and presently
received a written order from the King bidding them not to fire. This
momentarily paralyzed the defence. The insurgents, led by the provincial
_federes_, were not yet beaten, but flowed back once more to the attack.
Some field pieces which they had, breached the palace doors, a sharp
struggle followed, and soon the insurgents had got a foothold. What
followed was a massacre. Many of the Swiss were cut down in the
corridors and rooms of the palace. Others were mown down by musketry
trying to escape across the Tuileries gardens. A few got away and sought
refuge in a near-by church, but were there overtaken by the popular fury,
and butchered. The rage of the people was unbridled, and success turned
it into ferocity, even bestiality. The bodies of the Swi