ame was Lagrange."

The commander of the royal troops sat on horseback in front of his
line. The gleam of the torches and the waving of the insurgent banner
frightened his horse. The animal reared, and, recoiling upon his
haunches, broke through the line of troops, which in some confusion
opened to let him pass to the rear. At this moment, either by
accident or design, a musket-shot was discharged at the soldiers by
some one of the insurgents; Alison says by Lagrange himself. The
troops, in the gloom of the night, agitated by the terrible
excitements of the hour, and by the confusion into which their ranks
were thrown by the retreat of their commander through them, deeming
themselves attacked, returned the fire, point-blank, in full volley.
By that one discharge fifty of the insurgents were struck down upon
the pavements, killed or wounded.

The street thus swept by bullets was crowded with men, women, and
children. The discharge echoed far and wide through Paris, creating
terrible alarm. Most who were present had not the remotest idea of
danger, supposing that they had met only for a demonstration of joy.
Apprehensive of another discharge, there was an immediate and
tumultuous flight of the populace, the strong trampling the weak
beneath their feet. The insurgents took with them their dead and
wounded. This accidental slaughter roused Paris to frenzy. It was
regarded as the revenge which the ministers had taken for their
overthrow. Several large wagons were procured, and the dead,
artistically arranged so as to display to the most imposing effect
their blood and wounds, were placed in them. Torches were attached to
the wagons, so as to exhibit the bodies of the slain. A woman was
among the victims. Her lifeless body, half naked, occupied a very
conspicuous position. A man stood by her side occasionally raising
the corpse that it might be more distinctly seen.

Thus, in the gloom of a dark and clouded night, this ghastly
procession traversed all the leading streets of Paris, the whole
population, of a city of a million and a half of inhabitants, being
then in the streets. The rage excited, and the cries for vengeance,
were deep and almost universal. Louis Philippe had no personal
popularity to sustain him. Legitimists and Republicans alike ignored
his claims to the throne. He was regarded as intensely avaricious,
notwithstanding his immense wealth, and as ever ready to degrade
France in subserviency to the policy of