Democratic Sentinel, Volume 5, Number 22, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 8 July 1881 — TO BE SHOT AT SIX. [ARTICLE]

TO BE SHOT AT SIX.

The Melancholy Fate of a French If ar Correspondent in Tunis. [From th* French of Albert Milland.] One of the special correspondents attached to the French expedition against the Kroumirs, in Algiers, was Camille Farcy, well known as a brilliant writer. He had long been connected with La Frrnce, one of the leading Paris journals. The army which he was detailed to accompany was that of Gen. Forgemol, a martinet, entertaining the most rigid ideas regarding discipline. .Before the expedition left Algiers, he, in conjunction with Gen. Vincendon, concocted the following pledge, which all the journalists were obliged to sign : T, , promise upon my honor to transmit no information whatever, either by telegraph or by mail, or by any other means, without first having submitted my manuscript to the examination of the officer commanding the expedition, or to such officer or officers as he may delegate that power to. I further agree that any failure to keep this pledge will expose me to toe rigors of martial law. . This document was signed by all the correspondents attached to the expedition. When Farcy’s turn came, he took the pen, but it was with evident reluctance that he signed. When he had done so he said to Forgemol: “General, I sign this document only because I am forced to do so; because without doing so I could not fulfill my duty as a correspondent; because without doing so I could not accompany the expedition. But I warn you, sir, that I shall speak the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth touching such matters as may come under my observation.” And with, a defiant glance at the General, Camille withdrew. The old General gnawed his grizzled mustache to conceal his wrath. He did what perhaps most men would have done —he set a spy to dog the footsteps of Farcy. The expedient was successful. Two evenings after the spy d-.touted the journalist, under a disguite, quitting the camp- He followed and saw him deposit a large envelope in one of the minor postoffices upon tbe Algerian frontier. He was at once arrested and conducted to Forgemol’s headquarters. “Aha !” said the General, “at it already, my fine fellow. Well, what have we here ?” and he seized and broke open the envelope. “ Hum —addressed to La France. Evidently some correspondence which you are sending without my knowledge.” “Yes, General,” said Farcy, calmly, “ Let us see what it is,” said Forgemol, as he began to peruse the letter. “General,” said Farcy, coldly, “permit me to remind you that you are violating private correspondence.” “Private correspondence ? Bah !” retorted Forgemol. “Very private, indeed ; all Paris would know of it in another day,” and he resumed his reading. There were some severe strictures m the letter upon the conduct of the campaign. Forgemol’s reading was interrupted by oaths, and when he had finished he was purple with wrath. “So,” said he, grimly. “Yon consider yourself competent to judge of the operations of a General in the field, do you ? Well, sir, you shall have a taste of martial law to add to your knowledge of military affairs.” Farcy disdained to defend himself. A court-martial was immediately convened. Its proceedings were summary —its sentence short: “Camille Farcy is condemned to be shot at 6 in the morning.” It was then midnight The doomed man was placed in charge of a Lieutenant and a squad of soldiers, put upon a special train, and borne swiftly to the capital city, Algiers, where the execution was to take place. At 5:30 o’clock the train dashed into the city. It passed under the walls of the palace where Albert Grevy, the Governor General, lives in state. The windows were brightly lighted, and the strains of a waltz were borne to the ears of the prisoner. The Governor was giving a ball. “You have half an hour in which to prepare for death,” said the Lieutenant, compassionately; “ would you like to have me send for a priest ?” “I suppose,” said Farcy, “you will grant my last request ?” “ Yes.” “Then let me go to the ball. I would like to have a waltz before I die. ” The officer bowed and repaired to M. Grevy's palace. “ His request shall be granted,” said the President’s brother. “Who could refuse a dying man’s request? Bring him here; he shall dance with my daughter. ” And it was done. The last moments of his life were spent upon a ball-room floor. At 6 o’clock the officer spoke : “ The file is waiting,” said he. “ Let us go,” said Farcy. He saluted the dancers and withdrew. When he reached the ground where the file was awaiting him, he refused to allow his eyes to be bandaged, and demanded permission to give the word of command. “ May all journalists do as I have done,” said he; “it is their duty.” Then, folding his arms, he cried : “ Fire !” The crash of the muskets rang out on the morning air. Camille Farcy fell dead, pierced with balls. The vengeance of Gen. Forgemol was accomplished.