#ThrowbackThursday – 23 May
It’s 23 May, and that means it’s time for another edition of Throwback Thursday! Today, we’re taking a look back at three prominent events that went down on this day in history:
1873 – 151 Years of Mounties
Red uniforms, brassy buttons, iconic headwear, and quite a sight when they’re riding horses … no, we’re not talking about the British Royal guards, although the official name of this particular force of officers does include a royal appellation.
Throughout the world, the law enforcement officers of Canada are commonly known as “Mounties”. Officially, they are known as the Royal Canadian Mounted Police (RCMP), but that wasn’t always the case.
Established on 23 May 1873 by the Canadian Parliament, the North-West Mounted Police (NWMP) was a 300-strong force created to bring law and order to the western frontier of Canada.
It was in 1904 that King Edward VII of Britain granted the NWMP the title “Royal”, and they became known as the Royal North-West Mounted Police. Sixteen years later, after merging with the Dominion Police, the name underwent a slight change for the last time – in other words, the RCMP was here to stay.
Broadening its jurisdiction to eight provinces and three territories, the RCMP is responsible for enforcing federal laws and providing policing services to Canadian citizens. There are currently 658 detachments across Canada, with over 30 000 officers and employees serving the public.
While they are symbolic of safety and security, the overall image of a Mountie – from the aforementioned uniform to their horsemanship – is as iconic as the Canadian beaver and maple leaf (as is their unofficial slogan, “The Mountie always gets his man!”).
1920 – Tumble Out of the Orient Express
Most presidents typically serve up to two four-year terms in office (or longer, depending on different laws or – ahem – their reluctance to give up their power). However, in the case of Paul Deschanel, a former president of France, his time in office was cut extremely short due to a bizarre incident.
Inaugurated as the 11th official president on 18 February 1920, Deschanel was poised to lead France to greater stability over a seven-year term, promising to focus on economic recovery and social reform two years after the conclusion of World War I.
However, the 65-year-old’s deteriorating mental health – exemplified by instances of erratic behaviour, including allegedly wading into a lake half-dressed – shortened his presidential stint from seven years to a mere seven months.
One such instance of his erratic behaviour occurred just three months after his term began: on the night of 23 May 1920, Deschanel was travelling on the luxurious Orient Express to the Loire for an inauguration of a World War I monument. However, a combination of sleeping pills, heat and, reportedly, sleepwalking led Deschanel to open his train car window, lean out too far for fresh air and tumble out of the moving train onto the tracks.
Fortunately, Deschanel suffered nothing worse than only bruising and bleeding. After wandering down the tracks, he was discovered by a platelayer (who initially thought he was dealing with a mad man, albeit dressed in elegant pyjamas, when the latter called himself the president of France) and treated for his wounds. He was taken to a hospital the following morning; by now, it was already apparent that the president was no longer on the train.
Unfortunately, the incident exacerbated the end of Deschanel’s presidency, as well as the speed of his deteriorating mental health: he tendered his resignation on 20 September 1920, nearly four months after his fall. After a three-month stint in a sanatorium, Deschanel returned to politics in January 1921 as a member of the French Senate, but he passed away from pneumonia the following year at the age of 67.
1934 – Ride AND Die
Partners in life, partners in crime … and on 23 May 1934, Bonnie Parker and Clyde Barrow became partners in death.
The young couple – popularly known as “Bonnie and Clyde” – were notorious for their violent crime spree across the central United States of America during the era of the Great Depression. From 1931 to 1934, they were responsible for numerous robberies, kidnappings and murders, and had managed to evade capture by law enforcement.
Indeed, it seemed Lady Luck was on Bonnie and Clyde’s side as they went about their criminal activities, driven by love for each other and a desire to make a name for themselves in a dull, colourless world ripe for chaos.
Unfortunately for the duo, their luck ran out: driving in a stolen Ford V-8, Bonnie and Clyde were ambushed by a posse of police officers near Bienville Parish, Louisiana. Hidden in bushes along a highway, the officers recognised the stolen vehicle with Clyde at the wheel.
“That car kept coming,” per the account of Deputy Bob Alcorn and Deputy Ted Hinton, the sheriffs who formed part of the posse. “It was near enough now that we could distinguish the people in the car. They looked like Clyde and Bonnie. They were Clyde and Bonnie.”
Almost immediately, the officers opened fire. The car was riddled with bullets, as were the bodies of Bonnie and Clyde, both of whom died instantly before they could retaliate with gunfire of their own.
“We opened fire with the automatic rifles. They were emptied before the car got even with us … After shooting the shotguns, we emptied the pistols at the car, which had passed us and ran into a ditch about 50 yards on down the road. It almost turned over. We kept shooting at the car even after it stopped. We weren’t taking any chances.”
And so, the ballad of two lovelorn bandits came to a bloody end that day. Despite their deaths, Bonnie and Clyde’s story passed into legend, all while giving meaning to the phrase “my ride or die” … or “my ride and die”, in this case.
