CHAPTER XXIII.
THE SACK OF THE TUILERIES.
Scarcely had the carriages conveying the Royal family disappeared ontheir flight toward St. Cloud, when the whole mass of the populacepoured as with one simultaneous purpose into the deserted palace. ThePalais Bourbon had already been sacked; a like fate might be supposed toawait the Tuileries; but the Tuileries belonged to France, not to theHouse of Orleans, and a certain respect was observed for everything butthe insignia of Royalty. For these was shown no regard. The throneitself of the state reception-room--that throne on which sat LouisPhilippe for the first time, as King of the French, ere the Tuileriesbecame his throne--was torn from its base, and, having been hurled firstin derision from the windows into the court, was borne in mock triumphon the shoulders of men, who shouted that now the throne was indeedsupported by the people, to the Place de la Bastille, and thereconsumed to ashes. In the courtyard, in the Rue de Rivoli and on thequays, huge fires roared, fanned into fury by a hurricane of wind, andfed by richly carved furniture, gilded chairs, canopies, pianos, sofas,beds, costly paintings, splendid works of art and the Royal carriagesglittering with gold. The magnificent tapestries of the Gobelins wereborne as streamers, in frantic fury, along the boulevards; mischievousgamins were frolicking about in the long scarlet robes worn upon Courtoccasions, which they had filched from the Royal wardrobe; theescritoire of the King, the key having been found in a tea-cup, wasransacked, and private letters, books and the garments of ladies werestrewn about the court and gardens of the Tuileries. The cellars of thepalace were soon filled with the insurgents; but they declared the winebad, as it never remained long enough in the cellars of kings to getgood! Destruction, not pillage, seemed the order of the hour, and toguard against robbery the people took upon themselves the arrest andpunishment of offenders. The walls bore the menace, "Robbers shall die!"In several instances the threat was carried into immediate execution,and bodies, suffered to lie on the spot upon which they had been cutdown, bore on their breasts the label "Thief!" in terrible warning.Sentinels also stood at the gates, and no one was allowed to leave thepalace without rigorous search.
In the apartments of the Duchess of Orleans, the table was found spreadfor the dinner of herself and her children; upon the table were thelittle silver cups, forks and spoons of the young Princes, and on thefloor were scattered their costly toys. The latter were gatheredcarefully up by a workman in a blouse, and as carefully concealed in acorner. The former, together with all jewels and other valuables foundin the apartments of the Duchess, were deposited in a bathing-tub, onwhich a workman seated himself as guard and suffered no one to approachuntil the aforesaid valuables could be conveyed by a detachment of thePolytechnic School to the Government treasury. The story runs that, onthe night succeeding the sack of the Tuileries, the conquerors chose aking and queen, and that, in the palace hall, was spread a banquetcomposed of the viands found in the Royal kitchen and the wines found inthe Royal cellars. The queen, who was a soubrette more noticeable forbeauty than for cleanliness of person, garbed in Royal robes which shewell became, and with a coronet upon her stately brow, was seated in achair of state and received the most extravagant homage from her willingsubjects, while groups of gamins, in the long crimson liveries of theRoyal household, boisterously frolicked before the sans culotte courtamid roars of merriment.