experiences. Accordingly we did not follow the crowd back to the steps
overlooking the Place de la Concorde, but, like a good many other people,
we went off by way of the Place de Bourgogne. No damage had been done in
the Chamber itself, but as we quitted the building we noticed several
inscriptions scrawled upon the walls. In some instances the words were
merely "Vive la Republique!" and "Mort aux Prussiens!" At other times,
however, they were too disgusting to be set down here. In or near the Rue
de Bourgogne we found a fairly quiet wine-shop, where we rested and
refreshed ourselves with _cannettes_ of so-called Biere de Strasbourg.
We did not go at that moment to the Hotel-de-Ville, whither a large part
of the crowd betook itself by way of the quays, and where the Republic
was again proclaimed; but returned to the Place de la Concorde, where some
thousands of people still remained. Everybody was looking very animated
and very pleased. Everybody imagined that, the Empire being overthrown,
France would soon drive back the German invader. All fears for the future
seemed, indeed, to have departed. Universal confidence prevailed, and
everybody congratulated everybody else. There was, in any case, one
good cause for congratulation: the Revolution had been absolutely
bloodless--the first and only phenomenon of the kind in all French
history.

Whilst we were strolling about the Place de la Concorde I noticed that the
chief gate of the Tuileries garden had been forced open and damaged. The
gilded eagles which had decorated it had been struck off and pounded to
pieces, this, it appeared, having been chiefly the work of an enterprising
Turco. A few days later Victorien Sardou wrote an interesting account of
how he and others obtained admittance, first to the reserved garden, and
then to the palace itself. On glancing towards it I observed that the flag
which had still waved over the principal pavilion that morning, had now
disappeared. It had been lowered after the departure of the Empress. Of