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tille, which she infused into all men, the mighty and rapid preparations she caused the leaders of the people and of the Burgundians, Perrinet le Clerc, Simon Caboche, de Giac, L'Isle Adam, and the new provost of Paris to take, effectually disconcerted the projects of surprise entertained by the Armagnacs.

Perrinet le Clerc was drunk with the elation of popular applause, with blood, with the insolence of the unbounded power to which the enthusiasm of the mob had raised him. The death of Renaud removed apparently his only dangerous rival; in the frenzy of his ambition and triumph, he strove to stifle the remorse of his share in his father's destruction by an incessant revel of blood and agitation. He listened implicitly to the counsels of Huéline. The laborious de Giac forgot no possible means of consolidating his success; and meanwhile Simon, with an unceasing, indefatigable zeal, that excited general wonder, destroyed all hopes of co-operation from the Armagnacs of Paris, by rooting them out, one by one, and yet in multitudes, and casting them in heaps into the various strong prisons provided for their reception. The restless ardour of Huéline was sufficiently ac

counted for in her attachment to the Burgundian cause, and in the revenge due to the manes of her betrothed.

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The Armagnacs poured, as we have said, like a furious torrent from the Bastille, and their yells resounded far and near, as they rolled on unobstructedly up the street of St. Antoine. Death, death!-the town is ours! Hurrah for the king and the dauphin! Vive Armagnac! Kill, kill!" were the cries that startled the Burgundians, not to flight, but to resistance. None, indeed, was offered, until the assailants reached the square of the Châtelet, insomuch that they began to believe themselves, and to imagine that Paris was once more in their grasp! But at this point showers of arrows from the Grand Châtelet arrested the advance of the Armagnac column. The Boucherie appeared swarming with its armed denizens, and all the streets in advance were strongly secured by barricades of iron chains, fastened to staples in the houses, at intervals and at heights sufficient to break the charge of the heavy-armed Armagnac cavalry. Almost at the same instant, the whole street of St. Antoine, through which the assailants had advanced without obstruction, became sud

denly alive with enemies. The roofs were covered with black masses of the populace; all the windows were crowded with combatants; and stones, furniture, bricks, tiles-every weapon that deadly hatred could improvisate-arrows, spears, scythes, boiling pitch and water, fire itself, were hurled on the Armagnacs! The assailants found themselves falling in heaps, slaughtered helplessly, and covered with the most horrible wounds, without the power of retaliation or defence.

It is true that the head of the attacking column, under command of Taneguy Duchâtel, arrived in the square before the citadel, whence he had once controlled Paris. But every effort to break the chains was found fruitless, and meanwhile a murderous shower of arrows and bolts, from the towers of the Châtelet, thinned the masses of the assailants. At last Owen, frantic with rage and excitement, shouted to his companions to follow him, and, digging his spurs to the rowels in his steed, attempted to leap the first barrier. The charger fell under the weight of its panoply and that of its rider on the chain, and remained with its fore feet over, inextricably entangled, but strug

gling, and rending itself to pieces in the effort to get free.

No knight or man-at-arms offered to follow the example of the rash young leader, for at this moment the Veau de Bar, with a powerful mass of cavalry, dashed headlong on their disordered flank from the Grand Châtelet. Taneguy rallied his forces with the skill and determination for which he was renowned, and a furious hand-tohand conflict covered the whole square with blood and confusion. But by this time the alarm had spread, and the tocsin, resounding from the steeple of Nôtre Dame, summoned the Burgundians to arms. The Lord of L'Isle Adam, at the head of his knights and some reinforcements that had arrived under the command of John of Luxembourg, a famous general and partizan of the House of Burgundy, advanced from the direction of the Louvre. The populace poured in on every side, and the denizens of the Boucherie, encouraged by the arrival of their military allies, raised dreadful shouts, and seemed preparing for a sortie. At the same time, perceiving that their way to the Bastille was lined with enemies, and fearing that the

fortress might be assailed from St. Pol, Taneguy Duchâtel and the other Armagnac chiefs were compelled to order a retreat. The yells of a mob of scholars approaching from the University, and of a populace gathering in the Val de Misère, completed the dismay of the Armagnacs, and finally changed their retrograde movement into a flight. Overwhelmed with missiles from the houses in the Rue St. Antoine, attacked at all the openings of the streets by the infuriate populace, and charged continually in his rear, even the valiant Taneguy lost heart, and clapped his spurs to his horse. This was the signal of an universal panic and confusion, and scarcely a fifth part of the combatants that left the Bastille re-entered it with their discomfited leaders. The rest were either taken prisoners or slain. Five hundred carcasses strewed the square of the Châtelet and the street of St. Antoine. So great was the advantage of the cover under which they fought, and of their barricades, that only about forty of the Burgundians were killed in effecting all this slaughter of their enemies.

Meanwhile Owen was assailed both before and behind by the forces of L'Isle Adam and of the

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