In the Place de la Concorde, beneath the old Egyptian obelisk which had witnessed so many changes in this troubled world, they found two cabs in waiting.  The king and queen entered one, with several of the children.  Into the second stepped the Duchesse de Nemours, the Princess Clementine, and an attendant.  Some persons in the crowd who recognized them, cried out:  “Respect old age!  Respect misfortune!” And when an officer in attendance called out to the crowd not to hurt the king, he was answered:  “Do you take us for assassins?  Let him get away!”

This, indeed, was the general feeling.  Only a few persons ventured to insult the royal family.  The coachmen, however, drove off in such haste that the Spanish princess, Luisa, Duchesse de Montpensier, was left alone upon the sidewalk, weeping bitterly.  A Portuguese gentleman gave her his arm, and took her in search of her husband’s aide-de-camp, General Thierry.  With several other gentlemen, who formed a guard about her, they passed back into the garden of the Tuileries, where M. Jules de Lasteyrie, the grandson of Lafayette, took possession of the duchess and escorted her to his own house.  From thence, a few days later, he forwarded her to the coast, where she rejoined her husband.

When the king quitted the Tuileries he was urged to leave behind him a paper conferring the regency on the Duchess of Orleans.  He refused positively.  “It would be contrary to law,” he said; “and I have never yet done anything, thank God! contrary to law.”  “But what must I do,” asked the duchess, “without friends, without relations, without counsel?” “Ma chere Helene,” the king replied, “the dynasty and the crown of your son are intrusted to you.  Remain here and protect them.”

As the mob began to pour into the palace after the king’s departure, the duchess, by the advice of M. Dupin, the President (or Speaker) of the Chamber, set out on foot to cross the bridge nearest to the palace, and to reach the Palais Bourbon.  She held her eldest son, the Comte de Paris, by the hand; her youngest, who was too small to walk, was carried by an aide-de-camp.  Beside them walked M. Dupin, the Duc de Nemours, and a faithful servant.  They left the Tuileries in such haste that they failed to give orders to the faithful Garde Municipale, who would have suffered the fate of the Swiss Guard in 1792, had not National Guards in the crowd assisted them to change their conspicuous uniforms and to escape out of the windows.

During the first half hour after the invasion of the palace a great deal of money and many other valuables disappeared; but after that time it was death to appropriate anything, even if it were of little value.