The Last Letter.

Auckland Star, Volume XV, Issue 3722, 15 July 1882, Page 2 (Supplement)

The Last Letter.

Ox the Ist December, IS7O, I visited the. liattlc-Geld of Yalenton. , Un the previous day the fight had raged, and all its horrors were now to be seen here to their fullest extent. It was a bitterly cold morning. In a summer-house French and Prussians were lying closely side by side on bloody straw, their wounds only partially bound up. and the nun sobbing, shrieking, or imploring for a cool drink to their parched tongues. Tncii*liuib3 were stiff with cold ; but lever burned in their blood. A few were slill; they had struggled for the last time, and all was over; their face 3 had been covered with eacks, handkerchiefs, or paper; they had not had time to bury them yet, because the wounded first demanded everyone's attention. The battle field was frozen hard, and the sun glittered on the -white, here and there, blood-stained snow; it sparkled, too, on the frozen pools of blood, and .shone on the helmets, swords, bayonets, ai.d fla»ks of the dead soldiers lying everywhere around, In the first portion of the wood at Valenton mostly Prussian corpses lay; then, in closer ranks, the dead Frenchmen. The wounded were everywhere being taken up. Suddenly a low sob fell upon my ear. Close to the trunk of a silverbeech tree I found a soldier who was still alive. He belonged to the 12tk. Prussian infantry regiment. He was a fine, s'rong figure, with a large beard ; Ms face, though di^ligured by suffering, was still handsome; his glassy eyes stared at me, He lay with his back resting against the tree, whither he had with difficulty dragged himself ; his hands were convulsively digging into the icy-cold earth " Water !" he groaned as I approached him, I handed him my flosk, and he drank eagerly. Tliis did him good. " Thanhs," he murmured. I wanted to get the ur, fortunate man in a little better position, and looked around for the bearers of the wounded. He made a sign, too. Each moment increased his torture. " Leave me," he said, faint and exhausted. "It is all over with me." "Where are you wounded?" " I have six bullets through the lower parts of my body." "Have you any particular wish ?" " Yes." He wearily raised up his head, and I saw, by the momentary brightening of his eyes, that his departiug spirit was putting forth its last strength. His thoughts were travelling homewards. " I had just been married a week when I had to go," he said, slowly. "I am from Berlin. I had long worked hard to get a good position iv life, and now, as I had at last succeeded ... I was superintendent in ... factory . . . I mnst die . , . Write for me, please " He dictated to me, and, with my hands trembling with the cold, I wrote down his lasi words : —" Dear Wife, I must die ! So soon must I leave you ! Console yourself, and resign yourself to God. I send you my last greetings ; greet, too, my old mother. On " Here his head sank forward on his breast, I held and supported him. After a few moments be died in my arms. The address of his wife I found among tne letters in his knapsack, as well as the portrait of his youDg bride. I packed them up and sent them toner.