"Görgei and his staff rode to the front, where the Russian generals met them." Page 338]
The two leaders saluted, and then along the whole line sounded the beating of drums.
My eyes ached, my brain grew dizzy, my heart throbbed violently as I strained forward, eagerly watching.
That rolling of drums was the death-knell of all our hopes.
At its signal the Russians presented arms, proudly but not vaingloriously, and then--
There was a low wail, a cry of despair from the spectators, an outburst of grief such as I had never heard, shall never hear again.
Strong men shook with grief, women sobbed as if their hearts were broken, as our gallant infantry laid their useless weapons on the ground, the cavalry on their saddles.
As for me, I crouched low, hiding my face in my horse's mane.
I have known much of happiness since then, but no joy has ever effaced the impression made on that sorrowful day.
Even now, as I sit dreaming many years after the event, the picture rises before me fresh as ever.