den of the Tuileries from the boulevards,
through the Rue de la Paix, opened its ranks, and the triumphant
populace, with shouts which rang through Paris, entered the
iron-railed inclosure. These disasters caused the withdrawal of a
portion of the troops who had for some time been defending the Louvre
from the colonnade opposite the Church of St. Germain l'Auxerrois,
where the insurgents were posted in great strength. Thus encouraged,
the insurgents rushed vehemently across the street, and took the
Louvre by storm. Flooding the palace like an ocean tide, they opened
a deadly fire from the inner windows upon the Swiss in the Carrousel.

These brave men, thus assailed where successful resistance was
hopeless, were thrown into a panic. With bullets whistling around
them, deafened by the roar of the battle and the shouts of infuriated
men, and seeing their comrades dropping every moment upon the
pavement dead or wounded, they fled in wild disorder through the arch
of the Tuileries into the garden, into which, from the side gate, as
we have mentioned, the insurgents were pouring.

All was lost, and, as it were, in a moment. Such are the vicissitudes
of battle. General Marmont rushed to the rear, the post of danger and
of honor in a retreat. He did every thing which skill and courage
could do to restore order, and succeeded in withdrawing his little
band into the grand avenue of the Champs Elysees, through which they
rapidly marched out of Paris, leaving the metropolis in the hands of
the insurgents. In the midst of the storm of death which swept their
retreating ranks General Marmont was the last to leave the garden of
the Tuileries. One hundred of the Swiss troops, who had been posted
in a house at the junction of the Rue de Richelieu and the Rue St.
Honore, were unfortunately left behind. They perished to a man.

Did these heroic troops do right in thus proving faithful to their
oaths, their colors, and their king? Did these heroic people do right
in thus resisting tyranny and contending for liberty at the price of
their blood? Alas for man! Let us learn a lesson of charity.

General Marmont having collected his bleeding and exhausted band in
the Bois de Boulogne, where pursuit ceased, galloped across the wood
to St. Cloud, in anguish of spirit, to announce to the king his
humiliating defeat.

[Illustration: PALACE OF ST. CLOUD.]

"Sire," said this veteran of a hundred battles, with moistened eyes
and trembling lips