The Catholic World, Vol. 07, April 1868 to September, 1868Various
Religion
The Catholic World, Vol. 07, April 1868 to September, 1868
Various
Catholic Church -- Periodicals
Zébédé, without speaking, pushed me with his elbow, and we
entered the court, while the others pursued their way. It took us
full a quarter of an hour to reach one of the wagons. I held up a
crown of six livres, and the _cantinières_, kneeling behind
her cask, handed me a great glass of brandy and a piece of white
bread, at the same time taking my money. I drank, and passed the
glass to Zébédé, who emptied it. We had as much difficulty in
getting out of the crowd as in entering. Hard, famished faces and
cavernous eyes were on all sides of us. No one moved willingly.
Each thought only of himself, and cared not for his neighbor.
They had escaped a thousand deaths to-day only to dare a thousand
more to-morrow. Well might they mutter, "Every one for himself,
and God £or all."
As we went through the village street, Zébédé said, "You have
bread?"
"Yes."
I broke it in two, and gave him half. We began to eat, at the
same time hastening on, and had taken our places in the ranks
before any one noticed our absence. The firing yet continued at a
distance. At midnight we arrived at the long promenades which
border the Pleisse, and halted under the old leafless lindens,
and stacked arms. A long line of fires flickered in the fog as
far as Randstadt; and, when the flames burnt high, they threw a
glare on groups of Polish lancers, lines of horses, cannon, and
wagons, while, at intervals beyond, sentinels stood like statues
in the mist. A heavy, hollow sound arose from the city, and
mingled with the rolling of our trains over the bridge at
Lindenau. It was the beginning of the retreat.
XX.
What occurred until daybreak I know not. Baggage, wounded, and
prisoners doubtless continued to crowd across the bridge. But
then a terrific shock woke us all. We started up, thinking the
enemy were on us, when two officers of hussars came galloping in
with the news that a powder-wagon had exploded by accident in the
grand avenue of Randstadt, at the river-side. The dark, red smoke
rolled to the sky, and slowly disappeared, while the old houses
continued to shake as if an earthquake were rolling by.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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