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Updated: June 15, 2025
"No," said Jeanty Sarre, "I must unload my gun." Jeanty Sarre re-entered the barricade, fired a last shot and went away. Nothing could be more frightful than the interior of the captured barricade. The Republicans, overpowered by numbers, no longer offered any resistance. The officers cried out, "No prisoners!" The soldiers billed those who were standing, and despatched those who had fallen.
Jeanty Sarre and Charpentier picked up the wounded man, the one by the feet, the other by the head, and carried him to the du Cadran through the passage in the barricade. During all this time there was continued file firing.
It was the second time that Robert had entered the camp of Montcalm and his keen interest drove away for the present all thought of himself. He noted anew the uniforms, mostly white faced with blue or violet or red or yellow, and with black, three-cornered hats. There were the battalions of Guienne, La Reine, Béarn, La Sarre, Languedoc, Berry and Royal Roussillon.
All round that basin, on shore and cliff and mountains, thousands of veteran fighters Fraser's, Otway's, Townsend's, Murray's; and on the other side the splendid soldiers of La Sarre, Languedoc, Bearn, and Guienne watched in silence. Well they might, for in this entr'acte was the little weapon forged which opened the door of New France to England's glory.
They fell back hastily; but one of them, who was a shoemaker of the Faubourg du Temple, was hit, and had remained on the pavement. They went back and brought him away. He had the thumb of the right hand smashed. "Thank God!" said Jeanty Sarre, "they have not killed him." "No," said the poor man, "it is my bread which they have killed."
There was only one man on it, who was drunk, and who put the barrel of his gun against his breast, saying, 'No thoroughfare. Jeanty Sarre disarmed him. There at the corner of the Place des Victoires there is a well-constructed barricade. In the adjoining barricade in the Rue Jean Jacques Rousseau, the troops this morning made no prisoners. The soldiers had killed every one.
If, after having beaten the French army at Famars, the allies had left the Dutch and Hanoverians to observe what remained of it, while the English and the Austrians directed their operations upon the Meuse, the Sarre, and the Moselle, in concert with the Prussians and a part of the useless army of the Upper Rhine, a force of one hundred and twenty thousand men, with its flanks protected by other troops, could have been pushed forward.
There the wounded shoemaker was lying upon a mattress thrown upon the ground. They had established, in case of need, another ambulance in the Rue du Cadran. An opening had been effected at the corner of the barricade on this side, so that the wounded could be easily carried away. Towards half-past nine in the evening a man came up to the barricade. Jeanty Sarre recognized him.
Chance takes the predestined by the hand, and leads them straight to their goal through the thick darkness. At the moment when he entered the barricade they cried out to him, "Who goes there?" He answered, "The Republic!" They saw Jeanty Sarre shake him by the hand. They asked Jeanty Sarre, "Who is he?" Jeanty Sarre answered, "It is some one." And he added, "We were only sixty a short time since.
It was a handsome sight: the white uniforms of the brave regiments, Roussillon, La Sarre, Guienne, Languedoc, Bearn, mixed with the dark, excitable militia, the sturdy burghers of the town, a band of coureurs de bois in their rough hunter's costume, and whooping Indians, painted and furious, ready to eat us.
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