My father had occasion to send
me to his bankers in the Rue Vivienne, and on making my way to the
Boulevards, which I proposed to follow, I was amazed to see the
shopkeepers eagerly setting up the tricolour flags which they habitually
displayed on the Emperor's fete-day (August 15). Nobody knew exactly how
the rumours of victory had originated, nobody could give any precise
details respecting the alleged great success, but everybody believed in
it, and the enthusiasm was universal. It was about the middle of the day
when I repaired to the Rue Vivienne, and after transacting my business
there, I turned into the Place de la Bourse, where a huge crowd was
assembled. The steps of the exchange were also covered with people, and
amidst a myriad eager gesticulations a perfect babel of voices was
ascending to the blue sky. One of the green omnibuses, which in those days
ran from the Bourse to Passy, was waiting on the square, unable to depart
owing to the density of the crowd; and all at once, amidst a scene of
great excitement and repeated shouts of "La Marseillaise!" "La
Marseillaise!" three or four well-dressed men climbed on to the vehicle,
and turning towards the mob of speculators and sightseers covering the
steps of the Bourse, they called to them repeatedly: "Silence! Silence!"
The hubbub slightly subsided, and thereupon one of the party on the
omnibus, a good-looking slim young fellow with a little moustache, took
off his hat, raised his right arm, and began to sing the war-hymn of the
Revolution.
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