Olinski, Chief of the 17th Legion. (Pole.)

    Pisani, Aide-de-Camp of Flourens. (Italian.)

    Potampenki, Aide-de-Camp of General Dombrowski. (Pole.)

    Ploubinski, Staff Officer. (Pole.)

    Pazdzierswski, Commandant of the Fort de Vanves. (Pole.)

    Piazza, Chief of Legion. (Italian.)

    Pugno, Music-manager at the Opera-house. (Italian.)

    Romanelli, Manager of the War Offices. (Italian.)

    Rozyski, Surgeon of the 144th Battalion. (Pole.)

    Rubinowicz, Surgeon of the Marines. (Pole.)

    Syneck, Surgeon of the 151st Battalion. (German.)

    Skalski, Surgeon of the 240th Battalion. (Pole.)

    Soteriade, Surgeon. (Spaniard.)

    Thaller, Under Governor of the Fort de Bicetre. (German.)

    Van Ostal, Commandant of the 115th Battalion. (Dutch.)

    Vetzel, Commandant of the Southern Forts. (German.)

    Wroblewski, General Commandant of the Southern Army. (Pole.)

    Witton, Surgeon of the 72nd Battalion. (American.)

    Zengerler, Surgeon of the 74th Battalion, (German.)]

[Footnote 24:  The Prussians and the Commune, see Appendix 3.]

XX.

Who can help being carried away by the enthusiasm of a crowd?  I am not a political man, I am only an observer who sees, hears, and feels.

I was on the Place de l’Hotel de Ville at the moment when the names of the successful candidates were proclaimed, and the emotion is still fresh upon me.[25] There were perhaps a hundred thousand men there, assembled from all quarters of the city.  The neighbouring streets were also full, and the bayonets glittering in the sun filled the Place with brilliant flashes like miniature lightning.  In the centre of the facade of the building a platform was erected, over which presided a statue of the Republic, wearing a Phrygian cap.  The bronze basso-relievo of Henry IV. had been carefully hidden with clusters of flags.  Each window was alive with faces.  I saw several women on the roof, and the gamins were everywhere, hanging on to the sculptured ornaments, or riding fearlessly on the shoulders of the marble busts.  One by one the battalions had taken up their position on the Place with their bands.  When they were all assembled they struck up the Marseillaise, which was re-echoed by a thousand voices.  It was grand in the extreme, and the magnificent hymn, which late defeats had shorn of its glory, swelled forth again with all its old splendour revived.  Suddenly the cannon is heard, the voices rise louder and louder; a sea of standards, bayonets, and human heads waves backwards and forwards in front of the platform.  The cannon roars, but we only hear it between the intervals of the hymn.  Then all the sounds are confounded in one universal shout, that shout of the vast multitude which seems