"It is the Zouaves, knocking at the doors,
dragging out the conquerors of yesterday, now a humbled remnant, with
their hands in the air."
And the Cure goes on to compare Senlis to the sand which the Creator
showed to the sea. "Thus far shalt thou go, and no farther." "The grain
of sand is Senlis, still red with the flames which have devoured her,
and with the blood of her victims. To these barbarians she cries--'You
want Paris?--you want France? Halt! No road through here!'"
* * * * *
This combination of the Cure's written and spoken account is as close to
the facts as I can make it. His narrative as he gave it to me, of what
he had seen and felt, was essentially simple, and, to judge from the
French official reports, with which I have compared it, essentially
true. There are some discrepancies in detail, but nothing that matters.
The murder of M. Odent, of the other hostages, of the civilians placed
in front of the German troops, and of four or five other victims; the
burning out by torch and explosive of half a flourishing town, because
of a discreditable mistake, the fruit of panic and passion,--these
crimes are indelibly marked on the record of Germany.
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