Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1890-05-24

IiiAnty lOItt vi. lNdluttt SLOW. EuuiuiNtlftt
pitiless. But say that the soldiers Of France
had fed; say that Achilles himself had
flung down his sword and shield, and taken
to his heels; whose was the fault? Why,
naturally, ii was the government that was
to blame, shrieked the Red Flag. Down
with.the Ministers! Let us have new Min
listers, and our arms will be victorious. Mac
Mahon and Bazaine will unite their forces,
and the tide OF victory will roll backward
across those advancing herds Of Huns and
Pandours, and sweep the savages back to
their native pine.woods, their desert wastes
beside the Danube.
There was a sudden shufle OF cards In the
political game. Gramont and Olivier re.
tired, driven out by a vote Of censure, and
General Mohtauban, Comte de Palikao, took
the helm.
"A military Mercadet with d touch OF
Robert Macaire," said the Red Flag. what
good could be expected from such cdndtuef'
The month of August wore on--a month
Of anxiety, Of wavering hopes; Of strength
ening fears. History records no bloodier
battles than Rezonville and Gravelotte;
fought in the middle Of that anxious month;
and although Bazaine claimed the FIRST as a
victory, he was still steadily retreating;
every day brought him nearer Metz; where
he finally retired, abandoning his comnunia
cations with MacMahon and he rest OF
France:
Then, came the fumor that Metz was block
AIDED: Bazaine and his hundred and eighty
thousand men were bound round with bonds
of iron, useless, helpless. MacMahon was
encamped at Chalons, re-creating his army,
and thither regiment after regiment OF UNI
disciplined youth was sent TO him; and I'M
disciplined youth made the country round
ring with the noise of It's follies, made
France blush for her sons. And still the
food of invasion rolled on, steadily as the
rising tide; a week, a fortnight al most and
the Crown Prince with his victorious army
would debouch upon the plain Of Gcnevil-
liers. And now in earnest this time, see
ing the enemy so near, Paris awakened 10
the possibility OF a siege; but even yet fear
was not so serious rs 10 stimulate the city
To prompt and earnest action. The people
walted-expectant, hopeful still something
would happen, something unforeseen-a
miracle, perhaps.
Something unforeseen did happen; but
the unforeseen wore the shape Of shame,
defeat, humlliation-an empire oyerthrown
in one bloody day; Emperor a state prisoner,
Empress a fugitive, army prisoners Of war.
First came the tidlngs that MacMahon,
instead of trying 10 block the passage OF the
Germans, instead NJ falling back upon the
capital 10 fight one OF the worlds decisive
battles under The walls OF Paris, was moving
nprthward, obviously intent upon joining
and releasing Bizaine.
What might not be hoped from a coalition
between two such geneTals-one who had
risen with every defeat, the other "a famous
for indomitable energy as for military skill?
What might not be hoped for from B~azaine's
hundred and eighty thousand men, the flow
er Of the French army?
For two days, the first balmy days of
September, a restless, feverish, Over-excited
~populace lived upon the boulevards and in
the streets; questions, statements, counter
statements few from lip TO lip, while false
reports and monstrous exaggerations were
in the very air men breathed. Then, on a
Saturday night, came the news of a great
calamity q terrible battle had been fought,
was still being fotght, with fluctuating for
tunes, In the environs Of Sedan. But the
ultimate result? For this Paris waited with
inexpressib,e agitation. The n~ewsvendors'
Mosques were besieged by tuinultuous
crowds; hands were stretched forth tremu-
l0us with excitement, clutehing at the pa
pers; men stood upon the boulevard benches,
reading the news aloud, above a sea OF
heads.
Nothing was certain in the news thus
devoured, nothing precise. The crowd, de-
prived Of official information, was consumed
by a nervous irritabillty, a fever OF hopes
and fears. Men were impatient, captious,
quarrelSome. At the first word OF doubt
they were ready TO treat each other as Prus-
slams or traitors, for a mere nothing they
would have challenged each other TO mortal
combat. Voices were sharp, strangers glar-
ed at one another with angry eyes.
Lamps began TO simmer in the summer
twnIgnt, caIes INT wlne-snops shone out up
on the night, and gradually, imperceptibiy,
the knowledge of a great catastrophe spread
and circulated on every side. Details were
wanting; but France had suffered some ter
rible defeat. That was seen in every face.
No one in Paris slept that night. The Corps
Legislatif called a midnight sitting; and the
Empire sank through the stage Of this world
to the realm Of chaos and night, eyanescent
as a scene in a fairy play; and the curtain
rose upon the Republic.
The next day was Sunday, September the
4th, and the newborn Republic began in the
glory Of a cloudless summer sky. o strange
people, children of smiles and tearsl Last
night Paris had been plunged to the bottom
OF a black abyss, stepped In the horror OF
calamity, brought face TO face with the GER
talnty of An imminent siege, her army an
initiated, her Empire fallen. Paris had
laid herself down in dust and ashes, with
weeping and wailing for the splendor that
had persisted, the glory that was gone.
To-day, Sunday, and a holiday, Paris
awoke radiant, Again the excited populace
filed the bouleyards, poured along the
streets, a strong current Of humanity trend
ing towards the Champs Elysees and the
Bots. But to-day the note is changed. II is
no longer the harsh minor of Rachel's wall
for her lost sons hut the glad psalm OF De
pOran. Inc Empire mas fallen, mas fallen.
| Long live the Republicl Let them come,
| the tetes currees! We are more than a match
for them no,c. JOY beams on every face.
The crowd wears its holiday clothes, its
holiday aspect.
Every now and then a battalion Of the
National Guard tramps singing along the
roadway. They stop their song TO cry,
Long live the Republicg' and thunderous
acclamatlons reply, Long live the Repub-
liop'
And now came y time OF preparation, ex
pectation, anticipation. The days of un-
| certainty were over, and William and his
c~onquering hosts were pouring steadily on
towards this beautiful city Paris. Bismarck
had avowed that he bore no grudge against
France he NJ ide wal only on the Empire. And
10, the Empire was ended like a morning
| dream, the eagles were dragglc d In the blood
stained dust of disastrous battiefelds; and
| still Germany pressed onward, laughing
with q sardonic laughter at the impediments
| that France set In her way. Here q bridge
blown to the four winds, there a viaduct
shattered, r~ailwaylines cut, destruction
everywhere; and yet the barbarons hordes
iramped on over the ruins that strewed the
| way, pouring, pouring, pouring onward,
like the army Of locusts In Holy Writ.
The Parisians expected an assault a great
battle, victory or speedy doom. They waited
| boldly, strong in their faith that Bellona
was on their side. The goddess of battle
| had hidden her face from them hitherto,
| but 1t must be that she loved her France,
lau~rei-crowned Victrix Of 30 many glorious
fields, mother of heroes.
Yet, although expectant Of short and
sharp strife, Paris ~prudcntly prepared
| against the hazard Of . blockade. She
| gathered In her fiocks and herds, she heap.
81 o~ol IT, N~.cl nn~~~ A.