Harper's New Monthly Magazine, Volume 1, No. 2, July, 1850.Various
General
Harper's New Monthly Magazine, Volume 1, No. 2, July, 1850.
Various
American literature -- Periodicals; Civilization -- Periodicals; Culture -- Periodicals
As we passed, the shops were closed on either side in haste, and across
the windows of the upper stories beds and mattresses were speedily
drawn, in preparation for the state of siege now so imminent. Lights
flickered from room to room, and all betokened a degree of alarm and
terror. Louder and louder pealed the "Marseillaise," as the columns
deployed into the open Place, from which every street and lane now
poured its _tributaires_ of armed men. The line was now formed by the
artillery, which, to the number of sixteen pieces, ranged from end to
end of the square, the dense crowd of horse and foot forming behind, the
mass dimly lighted by the waving torches that here and there marked the
presence of an officer. Gradually the sounds of the "Marseillaise" grew
fainter and fainter, and soon a dreary silence pervaded that varied
host, more terrible now, as they stood speechless, than in all the
tumultuous din of the wildest uproar. Meanwhile, from the streets which
opened into the Place at the furthest end, the columns of the National
Guard began to move up, the leading files carrying torches; behind them
came ten pieces of artillery, which, as they issued, were speedily
placed in battery, and flanked by the heavy dragoons of the Guard; and
now, in breathless silence, the two forces stood regarding each other,
the cannoniers with lighted matches in their hands, the dragoons firmly
clasping their sabres--all but waiting for the word to plunge into the
deadliest strife. It was a terrible moment--the slightest stir in the
ranks--the rattling of a horse's panoply--the clank of a sabre--fell
upon the heart like the toll of a death-bell. It was then that two or
three horsemen were seen to advance from the troops of the Convention,
and approaching the others, were speedily lost among their ranks. A low
and indistinct murmur ran along the lines, which each moment grew
louder, till at last it burst forth into a cry of "Vive la Convention."
Quitting their ranks, the men gathered around a general of the National
Guard, who addressed them in words of passionate eloquence, but of which
I was too distant to hear any thing. Suddenly the ranks began to thin;
some were seen to pile their arms, and move away in silence; others
marched across the Place, and took up their position beside the troops
of the National Guard: of the cannoniers many threw down their matches,
and extinguished the flame with their feet, while others again,
limbering up their guns, slowly retired to the barracks.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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