“Hearing there were barricades at the Porte Saint-Denis, I pushed directly for the spot.  The work was going on bravely.  Stagings had been torn from unfinished houses, iron railings from the magnificent gateway; trees were cut down, street sheds demolished; carts, carriages, and omnibuses were being triumphantly dragged from hiding-places to the monstrous pile.  There were not very many men at work, but those who were engaged, labored like beavers.  Blouses and broadcloth were about equally mixed.  A few men armed with cutlasses, muskets, and pistols appeared to act as leaders; soon a search was made in neighboring houses for arms.  I was surprised to see how many boys were in the ranks of the insurgents.  They went to work as if insurrection were a frolic.  I shuddered as I thought how many of them would be shot or bayoneted before night fell.  The sentiments of the spectators seemed different.  Some said, ’Let them go ahead.  They want to plunder and kill:  they will soon be taught a good lesson.’  Others encouraged the barricade-makers.  One man, hearing that I was an American, said with a sigh, ’Ah, you live in a true republic!’

“After remaining two hours at this barricade, and seeing no fighting, I turned on to the Boulevard.  There, troops were advancing slowly, with loaded cannon.  From time to time they charged the people, who slipped out of the way by side streets, as I did myself.  Coming back on the Boulevard des Italiens, I found the entire length of the Boulevards, from the Porte Saint-Denis to the Madeleine, filled with troops in order of battle.  In the novelty and beauty of the scene I quite lost sight of danger.  At one time they chased away the crowd; but soon sentinels were removed from the corners of the streets, and as many spectators as thought proper pressed on to the sidewalks of the Boulevard....  Opposite to me was the Seventh Lancers,—­a fine corps, recently arrived in Paris.  Suddenly, at the upper end of the line, the discharge of a cannon was heard, followed by a blaze of musketry and a general charge.  The spectators on the Boulevard took to flight.  They pitched into open doors, or loudly demanded entrance at the closed ones.  I was fortunate enough to get into a neighboring carriage-way, through the grated porte-cochere of which I could see what was going on.  The firing was tremendous.  Volley after volley followed so fast that it seemed like one continued peal of thunder.  Suddenly there was a louder and a nearer crash.  The cavalry in front of me wavered; and then, as if struck by a panic, turned and rushed in disorder down the street, making the ground tremble under their tread.  What could have occurred?  In a few minutes they came charging back, firing their pistols on all sides.  Then came a quick succession of orders:  ‘Shut all windows!  Keep out of sight!  Open the blinds!’ etc.  It seemed that unexpected shots had been fired from some of the windows on the soldiers, from which they had suffered so much as to