he grand staircase.
Then the spell was broken. The second batch that entered through the
windows, when we had made room for them, were apparently not affected
by wonder and respect, for, half an hour later, when I came down again,
every cupboard, every wardrobe, had been forced, though it is but fair
to say that very little seems to have been taken; the contents, books,
clothing, linen, etc., were scattered on the floors; but the cellars,
containing over four thousand bottles of wine, were positively empty.
Two hours later, however, the clothing, especially that of the
princesses, had totally disappeared. It had disappeared on the backs of
the inmates of St. Lazare, the doors of which had been thrown open, and
who had rushed to the Tuileries to deck themselves with these fine
feathers which, in this instance, did not make fine birds. I saw some of
them that same evening on the Boulevards, and a more heart-rending
spectacle I have rarely beheld.

The three hours I spent at the Tuileries were so crowded with events as
to make a succinct account of them altogether impossible. I can only
give fragments, because, though at first the wearers of broadcloth were
not molested, this tolerance did not last long on the part of the new
possessors of the Tuileries; and consequently the former gradually
dropped off, and those of them who remained had to be very circumspect,
and, above all, not to linger long in the same spot. This growing
hostility might have been nipped in the bud by our following the example
of the National Guards, and taking off our coats and fraternizing with
the rabble; but I frankly confess that I had neither the courage nor the
stomach to do so. I have read descriptions of mutinous sailors stowing
in casks of rum and gorging themselves with victuals; revolting as such
scenes must be to those who take no active part in them, I doubt whether
they could be as revolting as the one I witnessed in the Gallerie de
Diane.

The Galerie de Diane was one of the large reception rooms on the first
floor, but it generally served as the dining and breakfast room of the
royal family. The table had been laid for about three dozen persons,
because, as a rule, Louis-Philippe invited the principal members of his
military and civil households to take their repasts with him. The
breakfast had been interrupted, and not been cleared away. When I
entered the apartment some sixty or seventy ruffians of both sexes were
seated at the bo