Essex County herald. [volume] (Guildhall, Vt.) 1873-1964, 1885-11-13
JACQUES.
He died as he lived-a hero.

Do you remember my friend, that fair
spring day when we went to clasp his
hand in his little home in CLAIMANT
Jacques welcomed us with his beaming
smile, and we dned under the vine
covered bower, while Paris roared far
away in the falling night just on the hori-
zon.
You never knew much about his life.
l slept in the same cradle with him, and
can show you his heart. lie had lived
two years at Claimant with that tall,
beautiful girl, who passed away so
gently 1t is an exquisite and touching
tale.
Jacques had met Madeleine at the fete
of st. Cloud. He loved her because she
was sad and ill., He wished to give the
poor child two sweet seasons of love, be
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
love. Jacques, little by little, became
absorbed by an infinite affection for his
dying wife. He watched her growing
palor every day with saddened tenderness,
Madeleine, hike a taperin a 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 gillifowers 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 ma
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
passedaway among the green branches in
the forgotten retreat where love had
comforted her.
had never seen Jacques since our visit
| knew that he was still embOwercd at
CLAIMANT living in the memory of Made
leine. Since the opening of the seige
had been so wearied that l had thought
no more of him until the morning Of the
18th, when, learning that there was fight
ing near Mcndon, 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 | went forth by the "Gate
Of Nanves," and took q straight course
The roads were incumbered with the
wounded. At MoulineauX | 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 hollow
darkened by flame and grape shot. My
tears flowed as 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 gillifowers. the geranums
and rhudodendrons lay about bruised and
broken, so mournful to see chat | 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
eleine's room, that modest, rose-hung
chamber, whose curtains were always
seen closed from the highway That
chamber, brutal y torn open by the Prus-
sian cannons, that amorous alcOye now
visible from the entire valley, made my
heart bleed, and / told myself thatI stood
in the burial place of our youth. The
ground covered with debris, iuwowed
with shell, resembled earth freshly stirred
by the spades of diggers, III 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 bower which, br mira
Gle, remained almost intact. There on the
earth, in a pool Of blood, slept Jacques,
his breast pierced with more than twenty
wounds. He had not left the vines be-
Meath whose shade he had loved; he had
died where Madeleine had PASSED away.
picked up his empty curtridCe-pouch
at his feet, and | saw that his poor hands
were black with powder Fer five hours.
alone with his weapon, Jacques had
hercely defended Mudeleine's pure shade.