s Louis; and he forsook you
like a King of shreds and patches; ye were but sold to him for some poor
sixpence a-day; yet would ye work for your wages, keep your plighted
word. The work now was to die; and ye did it. Honour to you, O Kinsmen;
and may the old Deutsch Biederheit and Tapferkeit, and Valour which
is Worth and Truth be they Swiss, be they Saxon, fail in no age! Not
bastards; true-born were these men; sons of the men of Sempach, of
Murten, who knelt, but not to thee, O Burgundy!--Let the traveller,
as he passes through Lucerne, turn aside to look a little at their
monumental Lion; not for Thorwaldsen's sake alone. Hewn out of living
rock, the Figure rests there, by the still Lake-waters, in lullaby of
distant-tinkling rance-des-vaches, the granite Mountains dumbly keeping
watch all round; and, though inanimate, speaks.

Chapter 2.6.VIII.

Constitution burst in Pieces.

Thus is the Tenth of August won and lost. Patriotism reckons its
slain by thousand on thousand, so deadly was the Swiss fire from these
windows; but will finally reduce them to some Twelve hundred. No child's
play was it;--nor is it! Till two in the afternoon the massacring, the
breaking and the burning has not ended; nor the loose Bedlam shut itself
again.

How deluges of frantic Sansculottism roared through all passages of this
Tuileries, ruthless in vengeance, how the Valets were butchered, hewn
down; and Dame Campan saw the Marseilles sabre flash over her head, but
the Blackbrowed said, "Va-t-en, Get thee gone," and flung her from him
unstruck: (Campan, ii. c. 21.) how in the cellars wine-bottles were
broken, wine-butts were staved in and drunk; and, upwards to the very
garrets, all windows tumbled out their precious royal furnitures; and,
with gold mirrors, velvet curtains, down of ript feather-beds, and dead
bodies of men, the Tuileries was like no Garden of the Earth:--all
this let him who has a taste for it see amply in Mercier, in acrid
Montgaillard, or Beaulieu of the Deux Amis. A hundred and eighty
bodies of Swiss lie piled there; naked, unremoved till the second day.
Patriotism has torn their red coats into snips; and marches with them at
the Pike's point: the ghastly bare corpses lie there, under the sun and
under the stars; the curious of both sexes crowding to look. Which
let not us do. Above a hundred carts heaped with Dead fare towards the
Cemetery of Sainte-Madeleine; bewailed, bewept; for all had kindred, all
had moth