On the morning of the next day, Sunday, the 12th of July, the news was all over Paris that Necker was dismissed. The alarm was intense. Paris was in an uproar. The Palais Royal was choked with people in a frenzy of excitement. All at once a young man leaped upon a table and shouted, "To arms! to arms! Whilst we are talking, foreign troops are gathering round us to massacre us!" This orator, whose loud voice and dramatic action stopped in a moment the buzz of tongues and the voices of lesser orators, mounted on chairs and tables, was Benoit Camille Desmoulins, already a favourite orator of the people on this spot. This fanatic revolutionist now held up a brace of pistols; and, snatching a green twig from a tree, stuck it into his hat as a cockade. There was an instantaneous imitation of the act by the whole mass of people. The trees were all stripped, and a woman brought out a great roll of green ribbon, and cut off cockades for the patriots as far as it would go. The mob, armed with pistols, clubs, swords, and axes, continued their procession along the Rue Richelieu; then turning on the Boulevard, along the Rues St. Martin, St. Denis, St. Honor, to the Place Vend?me. There a German squadron was drawn up before the hotel of the farmers of the taxes, and attacked the crowd, destroyed the busts, and killed a soldier of the French Guard who stood his ground. The commandant, Besenval, remained inactive in the cole Militaire; he was without orders from Broglie; and, besides, dared not trust the French Guard, but kept them close in their barracks. But he had three foreign regiments at his disposal, one of Swiss and two of German cavalry. Towards afternoon, seeing the disorder increase, he sent the Swiss into the Champs Elyses with four pieces of cannon, and the German cavalry into the Place Louis Quinze, adjoining. As Prince Lambesc, with the Germans, was marching along the Chausse d'Antin, he was met by a body of the French Guard, who had escaped from their barracks to avenge their slain comrade. They fired on him and killed three of the German cavalry, and wounded numbers more. They then advanced with fixed bayonets to the Place Louis Quinze, where the Swiss Guard were posted. There they and the Swiss remained facing each other under arms all night, the people feasting and encouraging the French Guard; who, however, did not come to blows with the Swiss. Lambesc had continued his route to St. Cloud, leaving the city all night in the hands of the mob, who burnt the barriers at the different entrances, so as to allow free access to the people from the country; and broke open the gunsmiths' shops, and carried off the arms. During the whole of the next day the city was in the hands of the mob.LONDON BRIDGE IN 1760.
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The whole fifteen minutes that he stayed up were like moments of freedomalone, master of his craft, able to control it as he wouldthere is not, in the whole world, another sensation to equal that of the first solo flight of a youthful pilot who combines confidence in himself with knowledge of his plane and how it responds.They tore on, away from the noise of the flames, of the falling timber and the shouted commands, around the haystacks so close to the barbed-wire fence that the barbs cut his boot, off by the back of the quarters, and then upon the road that led from the reservation. If the pony could be kept on that road, there was small danger from dog holes. He would run himself out in time. The length of time was what was uncertain, however. A cow-pony can go a good many hours at a stretch.
