The Roanoke times. [volume] (Roanoke, Va.) 1890-1895, 1893-12-19
been read an order surrendering them
To tLa 1Iao.A... All tl,..l.t l.l4.,.-

to tho enemy without blow.
Aud the flags - demanded Hornus.
The flags were surrendered with tho
rest-the guns, the remains of the
wagon trains everything.
"Th-th- thunder! 'stammcred the poor
fellow, "they shan't keep mine.
And he set off Oh the run toward that
side of the town. There, too all was
confusion. National guards. civilians
and gardcs mobiles were walking
about. Deputations passed, trembling.
OH their way to tho marshal's house.
Hornus saw nothing, heard nothing
He hurried up the street, muttcrng to
himself:
ITO take my flag from me! Come
now, can this he possible? Let him
give the Pru;sians what is his own-his
silver plate and his gilded coaches
this is mine. 1t IS my honor | forbid
any one to touch it,
Ills sentences were broken up by
his hurried pace and his stammcring
tongue; but, after all, tho old fellow
had plan Il clear and fixed purpose to
take his flag, to carry it into the midst
OF the regiment, and with any who
would follow him to fall upon the Prus-
slams and destroy them utterly. When
he reached the coloncl's house. he was
not even allowed TO enter. The colonel
too. was furious and would admit no
one. but Hornus did not understand
this. He wept, ho sworc, he tried to
push past the orderly.
MY flag! | want my na,s.'' he
shouted.
Finally window was thrown open.
1T is YOU, Hornus:'
YES, colonel
An the flags arc ut tho arsenal
You have only TO 90 there for Il re-
ceipt.
\ receipt for what:''
cit is the marshall $ order
But, coloncl''-
"Gi-m-p eacc" and down went
tho window
Old Hornns staggered like drunken
man.
"A receipt A receipt. he repeated
mechanically. Finally ho went oil
with but ono clear idea in his head
that his flag was at the arso,al. and
that, come what would. he must see it
again.
The arsenal gates We're opened wide
for the passage of the Prussian wagons
which were ranged in the yard. A chill
passed over Hornus as he entered. All
tho other cnsigns were there and 80 or
60 officers. silent and heartbrokrn
With the somber wagons standing in
the rain and the groups of men with
barred heads. it was like Il funeral All
the flags of Bazainc' S army were lying
IN Il heap on one corner of the muddy
pavement. Nothing could be saddcr
than those strips of bright hucd silk,
that debris OF golden fringe and carved
sticks, all that glorious paraphcrnalia
thrown on the ground, soiled with mud
and rain.
An officer picked them up, one by
one, and as his regiment was called
each ensign went forward to get a re-
ceipt. Hard and unsympathctic. two
Prussian officers watched the rcgistra-
ton.
And you are going away thus. 20,
sacred, glorious tatters displaying
your rents, trailing sadly over the pave
ment, like birds with broken wings!
You arc going away with the shame of
beautiful things soiled, and each of you
will carry away IL little of France. In
your worn folds the sunshine of the
long marches still fingers. In your
bullet holes you preserve the memory
of tn" unknown dead. fallen perchancc
beneath the banner. struck
"lIornus. you they are calling YOU
Go get your receipt
There WAS the flag before him. 1t
WAS really his, the most beautiful, the
most mutilatcd of them all, and seeing
1t once more he seemed to be standing
again on the railroad bank. He heard
the balls sing. the shells burst and the
colonel 5 voice, ITO the flag, boys"
His 22 comrades lay there on the
ground. and he the twenty third. was
springinS forward in his turn to seize it,
to lift the poor flag, lettering for want of
sustaining arm. All! he sworc that
day to defend it, to guard it till death.
And now-thc thought of all this sent
every drop of blood i'll his body to his
head. Maddcncd, desperate, he sprang
upon the Prussian officer, tore from his
grasp his beloved ensign and tried to
lift it very high, very upright, crying,
To the f. but his voice died in his
throat. The staff tremblcd and slipped
from his fingers. In that weary air,
that deadly air that weighed so heavily
on the surrendered town, no flag could
wave, no pride could live, and old Hor-
nus fell, crushed. Alphonsc Daudet.