carried by the troops. Taking of the
prison La Roquette by the Marines. Deliverance of 169 hostages.

_Sunday, 28th May_: The investment of Belleville complete.

_Monday, 29th May_: Six. p.m., the federal garrison of the fortress of
Vincennes surrendered at discretion.

I. (Page 2.)

HENRI ROCHEFORT.

Henri Rochefort, personal enemy of the Empire, republican humourist of
the _Marseillaise_, and the lukewarm socialist of the _Mot d'Ordre_, who
could answer to the judge who demanded his name, "I am Henri Rochefort,
Comte de Lucey," has been reproached by some with his titles of
nobility, and with the childish pleasure that he takes in affecting the
plebeian. It is said of him that he aspires but to descend, but who
would condemn him for spurning the petrifactions of the Faubourg
Saint-Germain? A man must march with the times.

Rochefort has distinguished himself among the young men by the
marvellous tact that he has shown in discovering the way to popular
favour. If I were allowed to compare a marquis to one of the canine
species, I should say that he has a keen scent for popularity; but one
must respect rank in a period like ours, when we may go to sleep to the
shouts of the _canaille_, and awake to the melodious sounds of "_Vive
Henri V!_" "Long live the King!"

Born in January, 1830, Henri Rochefort was the son of a marquis,
although his father, lately dead, was a _vaudevilliste_ and his mother a
_patissere_. From such a fusion might have emanated odd tastes, such as
preferring truffles to potatoes, but putting the knife into requisition
whilst eating green peas. But in his case Mother Nature had intermingled
elements so cleverly that Rochefort could be republican and royalist,
catholic and atheist, without being accused for all that of being a
political weathercock.

As a writer of drollery and scandal in the _Charivari_, would it have
been well if he had used his title as a badge? Later, when contributing
to the _Nain Jaune_, the _Soleil_, the _Evenement_, and the _Figaro_,
when everyone would have been enchanted to call him _mon cher Comte_, he
never displayed his rank, except when on the ground, face to face with
the sword or pistol of Prince Achille Murat or Paul de Cassagnac.

A frequenter of _cafes_, living fast, bitter with journalists,
hail-fellow with comedians, he lavished his wit for the benefit of minor
theatres, and expended the exuberance of his patrician blood in comic
odes. Dispensin