The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1898-07-18

left the streets, and at 10 o'clock the
city lay in darkness. save for the dark
figures on the icy rampartS, clustered
TO watch the flash of some great gun,
the far fare of the shell, the monoto-
nous rockets climbing to the zenith
from the forts of the south
But the sickly light OF dawn now
fell on crowded streets instead OF
empty ones, for everywhere at the
doors OF butcher stalls interminable
lines of women stood, card in hand,
waiting to draw their meagre rations
of horSefiesh.
There were few cabs, and fewer ON
nibuses, left in the city: the govern
ment needed horses for artillery and
cavalry; the people needed food. Fac
tories had closed everywhere, save
where the Gail steel works famed,
turning out cannon. Most of the rail-
road stations stood silent and empty;
the Orleans station. however. served
for balloon manufacture.
One by one the last gas jets We're
cut off and public buildings lighted
with candles and petroleum, until even
these gave out. The police existed no
longer, the national guard was sup
posed to perform police duties
There was no communication with
the outside world except when a rare
spy evaded the Prussian lines-or by
spies. sent from the provinces. crept
into Paris, a few pigeons found their
way into the besieged city, but no bal
looms ever returned.
The balloons left Paris at night to
avoid the 1ire of the German ou5posts.
Some were never again heard from.
some were lost at sea, sonls fell in Bel
ginm. A number, however, descended
in the southern provinces where Gam
BETA was performing prodigies-to his
own SatisfactiOn-and occasionally de-
luding Paris with foolish announce
ments OF success for the French arms
in the south. and the imminent arrival
of the army of the Loire before the
walls of Paris.
The army of the Loirei What heights
of hope what depths of despair marked
its brief career! On the ramparts the
starving soldiers locked out into the
south for the army that never came;
in the filthy streets starving women
and sick children listened for the sound
of its cannon. Rumors grew to GER
tainties; the army Of the Loire had
hailed Issy: its cannon had been heard
in the WeSt-in the south: its rockets
signaIe6 victory and rescue from the
east, Then the freezing streets echoed
with din OF galloping batteries; sud-
den columns Of cavalry filled the outer
boulevar3s. trennping past in eager
silence; endless masses of infantry
swung through the icy streets with the
startling out-crash of drums echoing
and re-echoing from window to pave
ment. while the great guns doomed on
the point du Jour, and the forts took
up the burden from Vanves to St
Denis, and from Romainville to the
battery of the Double Crown.
Then, after the sortie came the am
balances. file after file. treading the
frozen roads to the battle ground. And
the returni-the cracking wagon loads
of dying. the stencil of musty. blood
soaked straw. the spectral regiments
tramping through the gates. the
ragged crowd looking on. freezing,
starving. dumb with misery, yet ready
for another sortie when the dull gov
ernor of Paris could stir from the sha-
dow of his shadow-haunted chamber.
Little by little the rationS of horse
meat We're reduced to the miserable
scrap of 20 grammes for adults and 10
grammes for children. White bread
had disappeared; there was no flour
left a hard. dry Tnorsel of black bread
was rationed daily to the people.
scarcely enough to sustain life until
the dawn of another DAY brought an
other crust.
of prices from week to week: the poor.
in the bitter November dawn
stood hour after hour. ragged, sick,
ankle deep in slush, patiently await
ing their rations of lean hoTseffesh, and
reading the weekly schedules 20 pass
the time.