The Londonderry sifter. (South Londonderry, Vt.) 1883-19??, 1885-12-10
JACQUES.
lie died as he liYed-a hero.


Do you remember, my friend, that fair
spring day when we went to clasp his
hand In his little home in Clamart ?
Jacques welcomed us with his beaming
smile, and we dined under the vine
covered bower, while Paris reared far
away in the falling night just on the hori-
Zon.
You never knew much about his life.
/ slept in the same cradle with him, and
cafi show you his heart. He had lived
two years at Clamart with that tall,
beautiful girl, who passed away so
gently. 1t is an exquisite and touching
tale.
Jacques had met Madeleine at the fetc
of st. Cloud. He loved her because she
was sad and ILL., He wished to give the
poor child two sweet seasons of love, DO
fore he laid her away forever in the earth.
and he took her there to hide with him in
the little dale of CLAIMANT, where the roses
bloom as if they had gone wild.
You know the house. 1t was modest
and white, lost like nest among the
green leaves. On its very threshold one
could breathe the fragrance of quiet
lOtc. buCQueS, illlS ny llJllC, DeGdIllo
absorbed by an infinite affection for his
dying wife. He watched her growing
palcr every day with saddened tenderness,
Madeleine, like taper in q church, which
casts one brilliant glow before it dies,
smiled, and cheered the little house with
her blue eyes.
During two summers the child scarcely
ever went out. She filed the tiny garden
with her charming presence. her fresh
robes. and her light step. 1t was she who
had planted the large yellow gillihowers of
which she made bouquets for us. And the
geraniums rhododendrons, and helitropes,
all those lovely flowers lived only for her.
She was the soul of that little nook of ia
ture.
Then, in the Au tumn, you remember,
jacques came one evening and told with
his reluctant voice: " She is dead" She
had died beneath that little vine covered
bower as an infant falls asleep, in the
dim hour when the sun sets She had
passed away among the green branches in
the forgotten retreat where love had
comforted her.
l had never seen Jacques since our visit.
knew that he was still embowered at
Claimant, living in the memory of Made
leine. Since the opening of the seige
had been SO wearied that / had thought
no more of him until the morning of the
18th. when, learning that there was fight
| ing near Mendon. the little white house,
hidden among green leaves, was suddenly
| pictured to my memory. And saw again
Madeleine, jacques, all of rs, taking tea
in the garden, in the midst of the deep
peace of evening, while Paris rumbled
family on the horizon.
Immediately wet forth by the Gate
of Vanves." and took straight course.
| The roads We're incun,bered with the
wounded. At Moulneaux | learned Of
our success, but when | turned past the
| forest and stood on the hilltop terrible
emotion seized my heart. Before me on
the ravaged plain where the little white
house had once Stood | saw only n hollow
darkened by flame and grape shot, My
tears flowed rs descended the hill.
Oh, my friends, what sorrow The
Hawthorne hedge, which you remember,
had been cut to the earth by bullets. The
| tall, yellow gilliflowers. the geraniums
and rhododendrons lay about bruised and
broken, so mournful to see that | pitied
them as if had seen before me The bleed
ing members of old friends.
| The house is all torn away on one side.
| 1t reveals, through its gaping wound Mad
| eleines room, that modest, rosehui G
| chamber, whose curtains wero always
seen closed from the highway. That
chamber, brutallty torn open by the Prns-
sian cannons. that amOrous alcoye now
visible from TIE entire valley, made NY
heart bleed. AMI told myself that stood
| in the burial i.lace of our youth. Tie
ground, covered with debris, furrowe,l
| with she'll, resenbled earth freshly stirred
by the spades OF diggers, Ill which one can
discern the shapes OF newly-made graves.
Jacques must have abandoned the house
SO ruined by shot. / still went forward
and entered the boyer which, by a mira
Gle, remained almQst intact. There on the
earth, in a pool of blood, slept Jacques.
his breast pierced with moro than twenty
wounds, File had not left tho vines be-
| meath whose shade he had loved he had
4 died where Madeleine had passed away.
| picked up his empty cartridge-pouch
at his feet, and saw that his poor han Is
were black with powder. For five hours,
alone with his weapon, Jacques had
fiercely defended Medicines pure shade.