had I not collected from some of my friends particulars of what occurred
on the night following the re-entrance of the Emperor into the palace,
once again become Imperial; and it may be imagined how eager I was to
know everything relating to the great man whom we regarded at this moment
as the savior of France.

I will begin by repeating exactly the account which was given me by one
of my friends, a brave and excellent man, at that time sergeant in the
National Guard of Paris, who happened to be on duty at the Tuileries
exactly on the 20th of March. "At noon," he said, "three companies of
National Guards entered the court of the Tuileries, to occupy all the
interior and exterior posts of the palace. I belonged to one of these
companies, which formed a part of the fourth legion. My comrades and I
were struck with the inexpressible sadness produced by the sight of an
abandoned palace. Everything, in fact, was deserted. Only a few men
were seen here and there in the livery of the king, occupied in taking
down and removing portraits of the various members of the Bourbon family.
Outside could be heard the clamorous shouts of a frantic mob, who climbed
on the gates, tried to scale them, and pressed against them with such
force that at last they bent in several places so far that it was feared
they would be thrown down. This multitude of people presented a
frightful spectacle, and seemed as if determined to pillage the palace.

"Hardly a quarter of an hour after we entered the interior court an
accident occurred which, though not serious in itself, threw
consternation into our ranks, as well as among those who were pressing
against the grating of the Carrousel. We saw flames issuing from the
chimney of the King's apartments, which had been accidentally set on fire
by a quantity of papers which had just been burned therein. This
accident gave rise to most sinister conjectures, and soon the rumor