slaves and the _colons_ of Paris and Meaux, were
elevated on bucklers, and proclaimed emperors near the site of the
present Hotel de la Ville. To them were speedily joined the _bagaudes_
(insurgents) of the surrounding country, and it required a very serious
effort on the part of the Roman troops, under the command of Maximien
Hercule, associated with Diocletian in the government of the empire, to
restore order.

Sainte-Genevieve, the patron saint of the Parisians, also perpetuated
with her legend on the walls of the Pantheon, originally her church but
now dedicated to the _Grands Hommes_ of the nation, was born at
Nanterre, near Paris, in 422, and guarded in the fields the flocks of
her parents, Severe and Gerontia. She is said to have known Saint
Germain d'Auxerre, and to have promised him to devote herself to the
service of God; her reputation for sanctity, confirmed by several
miracles accomplished, was such that when the city was thrown into a
panic by the approach of Attila and his terrible Huns (begotten, it was
asserted, in the deserts of Scythia by the union of sorceresses and
infernal spirits) her voice was listened to as that of one qualified
from on high. Nevertheless, there were certain obstinate ones who
doubted her assurances of safety; there was even question of stoning her
for false counsel; but she, mounting a little eminence, assured her
fellow-citizens that, though Attila was indeed advancing, he would not
attack their city; this she stated in the name of God. That was
convincing, and, indeed, the dreaded conqueror turned his march toward
Orleans, and was preparing to pillage it when he was vanquished by
Aetius and Theodoric.

A second time she came to the rescue of the capital when it was suddenly
attacked, in 476, by Childeric at the head of his Franks. His first
efforts were directed toward cutting off all supplies by the river, and
in this he was so successful that the Parisians speedily found
themselves reduced to a diet of fish and roots, with no bread at all.
Genevieve was touched by their sufferings, she embarked on a little
flotilla of fishermen's boats, and succeeded in escaping through the
enemy's lines in the most marvellous manner. Her return was anxiously
awaited; for nine days there was no news of her, and the famine grew
more cruel; finally, the lookouts on the towers perceived something in
the distance on the bosom of the river; it approached; it was she, with
eleven vessels filled