"At length came the terrible battle of Mars la Tour—St. Hilaire, or Vionville—in the burning heat of August—the 16th it was—and Major Franz Omnesky was among the missing. Olga set off alone in her wild grief, to search on the battle-field, knowing we would not let her go; and when we first missed her, we had no idea how long she had been gone.
"Oh! how shall I attempt to depict that dreadful night-scene among the dead and dying on the field of Mars la Tour? The pale, ghastly faces looking up to God's pure, blue heavens so fearfully calm above all this human woe and anguish.
"Among the heaps of the slain, stumbling over horse and rider, we searched till night grew pale before the dawn, and then we found what we sought—and dreaded to find—Franz dead, and Olga lying with her head on his breast, in a deathly swoon, her garments wet with dew, and her long beautiful hair falling over her dead husband's face.
"Olga never rallied; the grief, exposure, and fatigue were too much for her delicate frame and passionate love for Franz. We laid them both in one grave, on a knoll, under a clump of limes—the two brave hearts so true and noble.
"Then came the 18th of August, that most murderous of all the engagements of the war, the battle of Gravelotte, in which the Kaiser commanded in person, with a brilliant staff, Prinz Friedrich Karl, Steinmetz, Moltke, Roon, Bismarck being on it.
"Colonel Karl Omnesky was among the wounded, and I hastened on to nurse him, as I hoped, to renewed life and vigour, but the moment I saw him all hope died for ever. Death was written on his noble brow, but his great, deep violet eyes looked bravely and tenderly as ever into mine. Oh those precious days! Golden is their memory, though so unspeakably sad.
"He was ready to go, awaiting eagerly the change to the better land, but full of a tender sympathy and sorrow for me and his unborn child.
"He never was weary of hearing that wonderful prayer of our Saviour, the seventeenth of St. John, and the fifteenth of the First Epistle to the Corinthians.
"Often, accompanied by the harp he so loved, I sang his favourite lines, my heart frantic with grief, but outwardly calm, for God lent me strength.
"'Bleibe bei mir vom Morgen bis Abend,
Denn ohne Dich kann ich nicht leben.
Bleibe bei mir denn die Nacht ist dunkel,
Und ohne Dich darf ich nicht sterben.'