Public ledger. [volume] (Memphis, Tenn.) 1865-1893, 1870-11-03
THE MAD WOMAN OF BAzEILLEs.
A shocking War scene.

Herman Vogt writes to Frankfort
journal description of fearful scene
which he witnessed at Bazeilles:
II was the first person to appear after
the storm of battle had passed further
away. Dead and wounded lay piled in
discriminatory together Hundreds Of
dying eyes looked at me imploringly. /
was seized with shuddering; | sought to
20 away. Too terrible was the scene;
and yet what was it compared with the
barbarity which had directly after to
witnessl A wild cry, more like that Of
an animal than of human being, rang
in my ears. | looked toward the place
whence the sound came, and saw a pea
SAINT dragging a wounded Bavarian, who
was lying on the ground, toward burn
ing house A woman was SO far aiding
that she continued kicking the poor crea-
ture in the sides with her heavy shoes.
The heart-renGing cry of the wretched
man had drawn three Of his comrades to
the spot. Shoot her down; no, hang
her. Two shots rang out; the peasant
dropped. The Megera laughed, and
before the soldier had gone three steps
forward she stood once more beside her
victim. The woman must be mad. One
blow cleft her skull Hang her up;
into the fire with the brute While the
soldiers gave vent to their evidently out
ragged feelings, / stopped down to the i'll
used soldier. He was dead. His last
breath had passed with his cry for help.
He was fine, powerful young fellow.
Well was it for his loved ones that they
had not heard the last cry Of agony OF
their son or their brother. / shall never
forget his cry. 1t will haunt me while |
live.
IL had but just quilted this scene Of
cruelty, when new horror encountered
me. From a house close behind me
came the reports in quick succession OF
two shots. | turned and saw a kranken-
TRACER, in the exercise of his duty, fall
convulsvely to the ground. The
wounded man he is carrying rolls with
him in the dust. From that house pro
ceeded the shots-fve, six Bavarians
forceia way in; the door breaks under
the blows of their butt-ends. But the
soldiers stood as if stunned. On the
threshold appears, armed with double
barrelled gun, tall woman; she may
be fifty years old; dishevelled gray hairs
fall around fine-yes, a noble face.
As she regards the soldiers her features
are distorted, she laughs wildly; the
laugh of this woman is fearful thing.
Vous etes une bette, calls out doctor
hurrying by. Her laugh is silenced, a
torrent of tears gushes down her face,
she exclaims softly, but in tones Of
heart-rending pain; Non, Je sHls
epouse, je suis merel Vous avez assas-
sine mon mari; vous avez assassine mes
deux fills. Tuez moi auss Je vous en-
remerceira. 81 vous ne me tuez pas,
c est moi qui vous tuerai.
with the last words the old wrath re-
turns. She again raises the gun. The
soldiers have not understood her. They
seek to avenge their comrade and pro-
tect themselves. The doctor stands
shuddering like myself. Before we can
say a.word, the unhappy woman falls,
struck by two bullets in the breast.
Let her die in quiet, calls out the doc
tor to the men, who seem not yet to have
satisfied their revenge, she has lost her
husband and her two sons. That makes
an impression on the soldiers; silently
they turn away.
IL turn back with the doctor. We
stoop down to the poor woman. Her
wounds are fatal. The woman regards
us wildly. l take her hand, and invol-
unfairly my lips utter pduvre femme.
The words seemed to have pleased her;
she feels they come from the heart.
Her eyes grow dim, and as she clasped
my hand firmly her bosom heayes last
sigh"