The men on foot had succeeded, however, in placing the two carriages across the quay so as to make a rampart against Chavigny’s horses, and from this, between the wheels, through the doors and springs, overwhelmed them with pistol-shots, and dismounted many.  The tumult was frightful, but suddenly the gates of the Louvre were thrown open, and two squadrons of the body-guard came out at a trot.  Most of them carried torches in their hands to light themselves and those they were about to attack.  The scene changed.  As the guards reached each of the men on foot, the latter was seen to stop, remove his hat, make himself known, and name himself; and the guards withdrew, sometimes saluting him, and sometimes shaking him by the hand.  This succor to Chavigny’s carriages was then almost useless, and only served to augment the confusion.  The body-guards, as if to satisfy their consciences, rushed through the throng of duellists, saying: 

“Gentlemen, gentlemen, be moderate!”

But when two gentlemen had decidedly crossed swords, and were in active conflict, the guard who beheld them stopped to judge the fight, and sometimes even to favor the one who he thought was of his opinion, for this body, like all France, had their Royalists and their Cardinalists.

The windows of the Louvre were lighted one after another, and many women’s heads were seen behind the little lozenge-shaped panes, attentively watching the combat.

Numerous Swiss patrols came out with flambeaux.

These soldiers were easily distinguished by an odd uniform.  The right sleeve was striped blue and red, and the silk stocking of the right leg was red; the left side was striped with blue, red, and white, and the stocking was white and red.  It had, no doubt, been hoped in the royal chateau that this foreign troop would disperse the crowd, but they were mistaken.  These impassible soldiers coldly and exactly executed, without going beyond, the orders they had received, circulating symmetrically among the armed groups, which they divided for a moment, returning before the gate with perfect precision, and resuming their ranks as on parade, without informing themselves whether the enemies among whom they had passed had rejoined or not.

But the noise, for a moment appeased, became general by reason of personal disputes.  In every direction challenges, insults, and imprecations were heard.  It seemed as if nothing but the destruction of one of the two parties could put an end to the combat, when loud cries, or rather frightful howls, raised the tumult to its highest pitch.  The Abbe de Gondi, dragging a cavalier by his cloak to pull him down, exclaimed: 

“Here are my people!  Fontrailles, now you will see something worth while!  Look! look already who they run!  It is really charming.”