The entire scene abounded in strange and exciting novelty. They drove to the Hôtel de Ville, and there had to abandon their conveyance. The grand square was filled with soldiers. Men and boys were tearing up the paving-stones and constructing barricades. The flag of the Red Republicans was flying on the hotel, and the soldiers were shouting, “_Vive la République!_” and fraternizing with the mob. So alarming grew the situation that the idea gained favour with many of the citizens to invite the return of the Prussians to Paris as the only escape from a reign of terror. Proclamations were issued by the Government, and counter proclamations by the Red Republicans. The travellers were warned by their landlord not to venture out; but it was useless to visit Paris at such a time merely to be immured in their hotel. So at noon they started for Versailles, under the guidance of Mr. Nimmo, and paid a visit there to M. Giacomelli, Mr. Nelson’s artist friend. He had had several Prussian officers quartered on him, and the account he gave of the insolent brutality of those representatives of the victorious army seems to have been abundantly confirmed by the condition in which they left the artist’s beautiful château. Mr. Buckham thus writes:--
“Monsieur and Madame Giacomelli are people of the highest refinement and culture, and it was impossible to listen to a recital of their wrongs unmoved. The walls of their _salons_ were hung with most beautiful paintings, many of which had been cut from their frames. The beautiful draperies of the windows were stained with tobacco juice; and the rich satin coverings of their furniture, which the officers had lounged on with spurs, were hanging in ribbons.”
The calm self-control and fearlessness in danger which have already been noted among the characteristics of William Nelson, were repeatedly noted by his travelling companion under the most trying circumstances during this sojourn in Paris. Mr. Buckham thus writes:--“In the exciting scenes of these few days, in which Mr. Nelson mingled freely and fearlessly, no one was so calm as he. The writer accompanied him through scenes in which we were often menaced with the insane violence of armed men, so that it was deemed the height of madness to expose ourselves to it. On one occasion, in the Marché St. Honoré, which we entered suddenly, not knowing what was going on, we found it crowded with armed men and women almost foaming with rage at our intrusion. Three words uttered by Mr. Nelson in a low tone restored me to self-control. ‘Take my arm,’ he said quietly, and we passed unharmed, with muskets and bayonets pointed at us. While traversing the Rue de Rivoli, for a long distance we did not see a human being, until we were suddenly confronted by a Communist doing sentinel duty. Mr. Nelson said to me in his calm tone of voice, ‘Say nothing; I’ll manage this fellow.’ So on we went, and the sentinel brought down his musket from his shoulder. Our pace was not changed. Mr. Nelson gave the military salute; he again shouldered his musket, and we passed on.”