our flag waves over the Buttes-Montmartre and the Northern
Railway station. These decisive points were carried by the troops of
Generals Ladmirault and Clinchant, who captured between 2,000 and 3,000
prisoners. General Douai has taken the Church of the Trinity, and is
marching upon the Mairie in the Rue Drouot.

"Generals Cissey and Vinoy are advancing towards the Hotel-de-Ville and
the Tuileries.

MAY 24th.

"The Generals, desiring to treat the city with lenity, withheld any
attack upon public monuments in which the insurgents had taken up
positions. This morning they carried the Place de la Concorde. The
Ministry of Finances, the Hotel of the Conseil d'Etat, the Palace of the
Legion of Honour, and the Palace of the Tuileries were burnt by the
insurgents. When the troops gained possession of the Tuileries, it was
but a mass of smouldering ashes. The Louvre will be saved. The Hotel de
Ville is in flames. I am convinced that the insurrection will be
completely conquered by this evening at the latest. No one could have
prevented the crime of these wicked wretches. They have made use of
petroleum for their incendiary purposes, and have sent petroleum bombs
against the soldiers. What remedy can be applied? The best of the
Generals of the army have shown an amount of talent and valour which has
excited the admiration of foreigners.

I have just returned from witnessing one of the saddest sights that has
occurred in the world's history.

I announced that the insurgents had set fire to several of the public
buildings of Paris, the Royal and historical Tuileries included. Flames
and bombshells are fast reducing the magnificent city to a huge and
shapeless ruin. Its architectural glories are rapidly passing away in
smoke and flame, such as have never been witnessed since the burning of
Moscow, and amid a roar of cannon, a screaming of mitrailleuses, a
bursting of projectiles, and a horrid rattle of musketry from different
quarters which are appalling. A more lovely day it would be impossible
to imagine, a sky of unusual brightness, blue as the clearest ever seen,
a sun of surpassing brilliancy even for Paris, scarcely a breath of wind
to ruffle the Seine. Such of the great buildings as the spreading
conflagration has not reached stand in the clearest relief as they are
seen for probably the last time; but in a dozen spots, at both sides of
the bridges, sheets of flame and awful volumes of smoke rise to the sky
and positi