New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1916-08-27

We were searching for the Mayor Of Cler-
Mayor This war has been selector of per
sons. When the Germans came down on the
villages timid officials sometimes ran and
left their people TO be murdered. Then some
auiet cure. or village storekeeper, or nun,
took over the leadership. Wherever one OF
these strong souls has lived in the region Of
death, in that village he has saved life. When
the weak and aged were wild with terror, and
hunted to their death, he has spoken bravely
and acted resolutely The sudden rise to
power of obscure persons throughout North
ern France reminds an American OF the HE
history OF Ulysses Grant. So at Clermont
the Mayor took to his heels, but Edouard
Jacquemet, then sixty-eght years old, and his
wife stayed through the bonfire of their vii
lage and their home. And ever since they
have stayed and administered affairs.
! Clermont was village of one thousand IN
habitants. Thrty-eight persons remained
old people, religious sisters and the Jacque-
NETS. The Germans burned 1875 houses. The
!
With the Prince of Wttgenstein at their head
and to the XIII Corps from Wurttember%'
commanded by General Won Urach. The par
ticular regiments were the 121st and 122d In
fantry.
We inquired of soldiers where we could
find the Mayor.
"He is up above" they said. We were glad
to leave the hot little village, with its swarms
of flies, its white dust that lay on top OF the
roadbed in thick puffy heaps, and it's huddes
of ruined houses. Each whirring canton,
minute by minute, grinding its heavy wheels
into the crumbling road, lifted white mists
OF dust, which slowly drifted upon the leaves
of trees, the grass of the meadows and the
faces of soldiers. Eyebrows were busted,
hair went white mustaches grew fanciful.
Nature and man had lost all variety, all indi-
yidualty. They were powdered as If for a
Colonial ball.
We went up steep, shaded hill, where the
clay still held the summer rains. We were
I bringing the Mayor good news. The Rosette
of the Legion of Honor had just been granted
him.
We found him in little vlne-cOvered old
stone house on the hilltop. He wept when
my friend told him that the emblem of the
highest honor in France was on, its way.
at means | have done something for my
country" he said.
He is a cripple, with his right leg short.
He goes on crutches, but he goes actively lie
has fulfilled his life. His sons are fighting
for France, and he, too, has served and his
sarvice has been found accountable in her
sight. He is bright and CHEEKY, very patient
and sweet, with that gentleness which only
goes with high courage. But underneath that
kindness and utter acceptance of fate felt
that deep lake of sadness" which comes to
one whose experience has been overfull
So we came through the dust Of the plain
and the clay of the climb to a good green
place. IL is a tiny community set on a hill
That hill was covered with stately trees "a
lane of them ran down the centre OF the pla-
tcau, as richly green and fragrant as the
choicest pine grove of New England. The
head of the lane lost itself in smother OF
low lying houses and grasses, lush green and
wild. But just before it broke into lawless-
ness one stout tree, standing alone, shot up,
and tackled on its stalwart trunk this notice
fronts the armies of France:
"Cantonnement de Clermont
al est interdit aux vsiteurs on autres
d'attacher des chevsux aux arbres. Toute
degradation aux arbres sera seyerement
reprmee.
"Ordre du commandant de Cantonnement.'
cit is absolutely forbidden to visitors OF
anybody sAt 70 lie their horses to the trees