men, swaying in their seats, broken ranks, and people in blouses,, who
rushed upon the King, to touch him or his horse, with frantic shouts of
"Long live the King!" As we retired, I just saw the taking by assault of
the house whence the discharge had come. The young aides-de-camp had
dismounted, leaving their horses loose, and with the Municipal Guards
and the police they scaled the house and the one next door (the Cafe
Barfetti), climbing on to the verandah and smashing in the windows. Then
the review began again. We had ascertained the King was not wounded, nor
we ourselves, but we were not aware as yet either of the great number or
of the names of the victims. Hereupon M. Thiers appeared beside us, with
his white kerseymere trousers covered with blood. All he said to us was,
"The poor Marshal!"

"Whom do you mean?"

"Mortier! He fell dead across me, crying out, 'Oh, my God!'"

We reckoned ourselves up as we went along. Forty-two dead or wounded:
dead--Marshal Mortier, General Lachasse de Verigny, Colonels Raffet and
Rieussec, Captain Willatte, aide-de-camp to the Minister of War, seven
others, and two women; wounded--Generals Heymes, Comte de Colbert,
Pelet, Blin, and many more. The Due de Broglie was hit full in the chest
by a bullet that flattened out on his star of the Legion of Honour.

It was not far from the scene of the crime to the farthest end of the
line of troops, so the procession soon retraced its steps. The roadway
where the blow had been struck was nothing but a pool of blood. The
wounded and almost all the dead had been carried away, and I only saw
one corpse, flat on its face in the mud, among the dead horses, but all
the blood about frightened our horses so that we had hard work to get