y, but it was still commanding. His costume was
one which he had chosen for himself, and which was worn by his peculiar
troop; a short brown mantle, an under-robe with the arms naked to the
shoulder, a broad leathern belt loaded with pistols, a huge sabre in hand,
rusted from hilt to point, which he declared to have been stained with the
blood of aristocrats, and the republican red cap, which he frequently
waved in the air, or lifted on the point of his sabre as a standard. Yet,
in the midst of all this savage disorder of costume, I observed every hair
of his enormous whiskers to be curled with the care of a Parisian
_merveilleux_. It was the most curious specimen of the ruling passion that
I remember to have seen.

At the Hotel de Ville, Danton entered the hall with several of the
insurgents; and the crowd, unwilling to waste time, began to fire at the
little statues and insignia of the French kings, which ornamented this old
building. When this amusement palled--the French are easily
_ennuied_--they formed circles, and danced the Carmagnole. Rum and brandy,
largely introduced among them, gave them animation after their night's
watching, and they were fit for any atrocity. But the beating of drums,
and a rush to the balconies of the Hotel de Ville, told us that something
of importance was at hand; and, in the midst of a group of municipal
officers, Petion, the mayor of Paris, arrived. No man in France wore a
milder visage, or hid a blacker heart under it. He was received with
shouts, and after a show of resistance, just sufficient to confirm his
character for hypocrisy, suffered himself to be led to the front of the
grand balcony, bowing as the man of the people. Another followed, a
prodigious patriot, who had been placed at the head of the National Guard
for his popular sycophancy, but who, on being called on by the mob to
swear "death to the King;" and hesitating, felt the penalty of being
unprepared to go all lengths on the spot. I saw his throat cut, and his
body flung from the balcony. A cannon-shot gave the signal for the march,
and we advanced to the grand prize of the day. I can describe but little
more of the assault on the Tuileries, than that it was a scene of
desperate confusion on both sides. The front of the palace continually
covered with the smoke of fire-arms of all kinds, from all the casements;
and the front of the mob a similar cloud of smoke, under which men fired,
fled, fell, got drunk, and danced.