He sank despairingly on a chair, and hid his face with his hands. In this attitude he remained, groaning piteously, a prey to his anguish. The adjutants entered the room, but Schill did not notice them. Absorbed in his reflections and forebodings, his mind, as it were, had passed from the contemplation of the present, and beheld nothing but the awful future.
The three young officers, Lützow, Quistorp, and Bärsch, well known for their intrepidity, stood sad and dejected before their brave major.
Suddenly rising from his chair, he said: "I thank you, Lieutenant von Quistorp, for having joined me with your faithful men. Germany will see at least that there are still brave men who do not forsake their country, and if we sacrifice our lives for her, she will at least engrave our names on the tablets of her martyrs. We cannot retrace our steps, my friends; we must advance, though death stare us in the face. This very night we leave Arneburg, and continue our march. We may still succeed in what Dörnberg and Charles have been unable to accomplish. We shall appeal again to the patriotism of the Germans. Perhaps their hearts will practically respond—they may hear our voice and follow us. But if fortune have decided against us, if we succumb without delivering our country, very well! 'An end with terror is better than terror without end!' Before us is honor, and at the worst, a glorious death; behind us, contumely and disgrace. Therefore, forward!"
[CHAPTER XLVIII.]
SCHILL'S DEATH.
Schill was sitting, sad and deserted, at his lonely quarters in Rostock, where, after many adventures, he arrived on the 20th of May. He had succeeded in nothing; fortune had not once been favorable to him. He had intended to turn toward Magdeburg, in hope that its garrison of Westphalian troops would joyously open the gates of the fortress, and declare against King Jerome, who had been forced upon them. But, at a distance of a German mile from the city the columns of the enemy had met him, and an engagement had taken place at Dodendorf. It was in vain that Schill had sent a flag of truce to his German brethren to request them to join him, imploring them not to betray the fatherland for the sake of a French king.
The Westphalians shot the bearer of the flag of truce, and a murderous fire was their only reply. Now began the desperate struggle of brethren against brethren—of Germans against Germans!
Schill was victorious in this battle. He mortally wounded the French commander of the Westphalians, Colonel Vautier; his hussars fought like lions and dispersed the enemy; a hundred and sixty prisoners, several stands of colors, and a large number of small-arms, were the trophies of this brilliant affair. But he was unable to derive any benefit from the Dodendorf victory; fearing lest a larger corps should leave Magdeburg and attack him, he retreated, overwhelmed with grief, for he at last understood that the German soldiers were deaf to his appeals, and that the Westphalians, faithful to their French king, refused to desert him.
Nor had Schill's second victory, the occupation of Dönritz, been advantageous to him. Moreover, dissensions had arisen among the officers themselves; the regiment, so enthusiastic at first, commenced gradually to lose faith in his ability to succeed in his bold enterprise; the officers insisted on being consulted as to future operations. They refused to yield obedience, and demanded that he should listen to their advice and remonstrances. But resistance rendered him only more determined, and in his obstinacy he frequently rejected prudent counsel, that he might accomplish his own plans. His mind was confused by disappointment, and at length by despair. He was, in fact, unequal to the dangers surrounding him.