an enterprising Zouave, the eastern pavilion became a veritable fortress.
The Commune, which was to parody and even surpass all that was most odious and grotesque in the revolution of 1793, allowed that ignoble populace, seen in Paris only on sinister days, to enter the court of the prison, in order to regale them with the spectacle of another day of September.
"While the crowd without shouted and menaced, some of the National Guards, charged with shooting us, mounted to the third story, announcing that the prison was to be mined and blown up, or else reduced to ashes by means of their formidable artillery established at Père Lachaise. They then set fire to one of our barricades in order to suffocate us, but this fire was soon extinguished.
"One detail I do not wish to omit. The individual who waved his gun in the most cynical manner was a man condemned to death by the Assize Court of the Seine, and who was prisoner at La Roquette. Many of the same class had the doors of their prisons opened, and left the building, shouting enthusiastically, "Vive la Commune!"
"Our energetic resistance caused great astonishment to the members of the Commune, who soon retreated towards Charonne and Belleville. The crowd, impressed by this example, followed the Commune, and we were able to close the doors of the prison. We were half saved, thanks to the disorder which followed; it was then that the populace remaining before La Roquette, passing from words of menace to those of seduction, began to cry "Vive la Ligne!" declaring that they simply wished to restore all the prisoners to liberty. Four priests and eighteen soldiers allowed themselves to be deceived by these promises; hardly had they left the prison before they were placed against one of its walls and shot, and the
