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PAGE 4

After Long Years
by [?]

The Duchess, too, loved her fatherland, and at last she tearfully recognized that she must give up her son to fight in defense of his country.

“Go, then,” said she, “fight for the right and your country; and may God protect you.”

Alfred fought valiantly and well, and at last was forced to proceed with the great French army against Russia. On the way to Moscow the ranks were greatly depleted, owing to the long, wearisome marches and privations. After untold hardships and bloodshed, the army at last reached Moscow, with her many palaces and temples and spires and the old palace, the Kremlin. It was a pleasing picture. Alfred, like every other soldier, now hoped to recuperate from the hardships of warfare. But he found the city uninhabited, the streets deserted, the palaces and houses empty.

At midnight, a dreadful fire which had been smoldering for several days, broke out in wild fury and laid the greater part of the city in ashes. The army was obliged to retreat; and many thousand brave soldiers, exposed to snow and ice, hunger and cold, met a horrible death. One single freezing night killed thousands of horses, Alfred’s among them. He was obliged to walk knee deep in icy water.

They traversed miles and miles of country without passing one hut; and when in the distance a human habitation appeared and gave promise of warmth and food, they found upon approach that it was deserted and devoid of everything.

The poor, miserable, weakened soldiers were obliged to spend many a weary night on the snow-covered ground, with no roof but the sky. The need of food became more and more imperative each moment; yet if they had had the wealth of kings, they could not have bought a dry crust of bread; so they were reduced to the extremity of eating the flesh of their fallen horses. They quenched their thirst with snow.

The street upon which the greater part of the army had gathered was marked with deserted cannons and powder wagons; and on both sides lay the dead, upon whom the fast falling snow had spread a white coverlet. Many of the soldiers of Alfred’s regiment had fallen, and lay frozen in the snow; others were scattered here and there.

Alfred and a chum, both in a weakened condition, tried to go on. They descried a little village, about half an hour distant; but before they reached it, Alfred had become so weak that he fell exhausted in the snow, saying: “Thus must I die here!” He extended his hand to his friend and with tears in his eyes said: “Should you ever reach the Castle of Banford, bear my love to my mother and sisters. Tell them that Alfred Banford fought bravely, and fell in the service of his country.”

These words reached the ears of a Russian gentleman, Vosky by name, who in a rude sled was going in the direction of the village. He halted, offered his assistance to the two half-frozen men, helped them into the sleigh and hurried on with them. A few minutes’ drive brought them to a little inn, half concealed by the drifted snow.

The men were conducted into the house and furnished with food and warmth. The host asked them no questions, for he saw that they were benumbed and almost unconscious. At last, when they had recovered, he raised his glass and said: “To your health, gentlemen. All brave soldiers should live. I sympathize with you, although I am a Russian subject. The sad fate of your fellow soldiers pains me. I will do all in my power to help you. I know you are not our enemy. We have but one enemy–the man whose iron will has forced all these hundreds of thousands of men into our country.” Then he arose and went about the place, giving orders to his assistant.

The sleigh still stood at the door, and the horses impatiently shook the sleigh bells and pawed the snow. As Vosky re-entered the room, his two guests had finished their repast.