Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1901-12-05
LUCILE.
An Incident of the Commune.
BIZ HAROLD SPENDER.
L was May %, 1870.

L The Commune was fighting TO,
its life.
All down the ~boulevards, desolation:
in the Champs Elysees, desolation:
IN the Place de la C~oncorde, desola
ton.
In the midst of the desolation, dark
silent objects lay scattered about il
the sunlight. They were corpses.
AT the end of the long empty
streets strange, unwonted obstacles
barred the way, and made blotches Of
shade. They we're b~arracades.
Behind them crouched little groups
of men, either firing or making ready
to fire.
midst of silence.
S the morningw wore on, the noise
grew. Across the great stretches OF
vacant city, blinking in the heat, the
great guns of Valerien and Montmar-
tire Numbered.
Down below in the streets one stand.
ing on a watch-tower could have seer
far over the ~house-tops, little bursts
of white smoke, followed by sputters
of sound. Or, if he had gone down
into the street, he would have seen
men running rapidly in twos or
threes, across the silent, empty
spaces. And as they ran, spurts of
smoke would come from the windows,
from the house-tops, from the very
chimney-pots.
Perhaps n or two might fall and
lie there stil-or, worse, STRUGGLING
in the sunlight. But Others would
come on, and then the street would
grow thick with them. They were
the V~ersaillais.
They would disappear into the
between them.
Then more rif1e-shots would ring
out, and the men would fall and be
silent. For they were Communards.
=
The fighting had reached the Rue
de Verneuil, close to the Boulevard
st. German. In all the surrounding
streets men fighting and dying;
and a fearful din arose, making day
hideous.
And yet within those houses life
was being lived; and in each of the lit
tie flats of which the street was COM
posed there was some little crisis of
life beingdecided through these dread
full hours.
The siege and the Commune be-
tween them had left some strange
tragedies.
In fat, for instance, lived a girl,
little more than 20, and yet now quite
alone, except for one faithful servant.
Lucille Simon had lost her father in
an early battle of the war, her broth
er on the Loire, and her mother by a
chance shell in the siege. She alone
was left, and now, when the Com
mune came, she had not the spirit
to fly, but had stayed on from a curl
Gus apathy. Her old servant-a dear
old woman attached to the family for
many years-stayed too.
From her window Lucille had seen
terrible things during that morning.
She had seen shells from Mont Vale
rien fall in the street, wrecking
houses, manning innocent men; then
she had seen the fierce fight for the
barricade at the end of the street,
which filled the air with noise and
smoke, among which men slew and
were slain; and now she awaited the
end.
For the human hunt was afoot.
The street resounded with the
tramp of armed men. Doors ererough-
ly broken open; there wer the shouts
and cries of angry men, the screams
of women, and the waiting of chill
dren. Men were dragged out, and
was safe. You might die for a
glance of pity.
"Open your shutters and close your
was the cry of the troops
in the street, born of long experience
of the use of shutters in s~harpshoot-
and now Lucille had just returned
the fearful task of obedience,
while a soldier below covered her all
the time with his rife, as If half in
.lined to fire. For even the sacredness
of sex had gone.
She had Just left the window, and
now sat c~rouching owe the scanty
Ere, her fingers in her ears to shut
out the din of death. But suddenly a
noise began which penetrated any
such barriers.
Knocki Knocki Knocki Some
one was striking the door of the fat
with the strength of despair.
Lucille sat up, listened eagerly, but
dire perplexity.
What was she to do? She might
ger feel reluctant to open the door
It such O moment. It seemed like
opening to chaos.