My diminished squadron had at length become almost the only rear-guard.
From a hundred and fifty as fine fellows as ever sat a charger, we were
now reduced to a third. All its officers, youths of the first families of
Prussia, had either been left behind dying in the villages, or had been
laid in the graves by the road-side, and I was now the only commandant.
Perhaps even this circumstance was the means of saving my life. My new
responsibility compelled me to make some exertion; and I felt that, live
or die, I might still earn an honourable name. Even in those darkest hours,
the thought that Clotilde might ask where and how I finished my
ill-fortuned career, and perhaps give a moment's sorrow to one who
remembered her to the last, had its share in restoring me to a sense of
the world. In that sort of fond frenzy, which seems so fantastic when it
is past, but so natural, and is actually so irresistible while it is in
the mind, I wrote down my feelings, wild as they were--my impossible hopes,
and a promise never to forget her while I remained in this world, and, if
there could be an intercourse between the living and the dead, in that
world to which I felt myself hastening. I then bade her a solemn and
heartfelt farewell. Placing the paper in my bosom, with a locket
containing a ringlet of her beautiful hair, which Marianne had contrived
to obtain for me, the only legacy I had to offer, I felt as if I had done
my last duty among mankind.
Still we wandered on, through a country which had the look of a boundless
cemetery. Not a peasant was met; not a sound of human labour, joy or
sorrow, reached the ear; not a smoke rose from mansion or cottage; all was
still, except when the wind burst in bitter gusts over the plain, or the
almost ceaseless rain swelled into sheets, and sent the rivers roaring
down before us. If the land had never been inhabited, or had been swept of
its inhabitants by an avenging Providence, it could not have been more
solitary. I never conceived the idea of the wilderness before. It was the
intensity of desolation.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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