1831.] The Wife of the Polish Patriot. 383 



to the horrors that surrounded her ; and she now no longer prayed for 

 preservation, but for death. 



A streak or two of dawn at length began faintly to light up the snow- 

 covered margin of the river. The Russian forces were now so near 

 the bridge that, perhaps, but a short half-hour's remaining opportunity 

 of passage might be afforded her. Aimee once more endeavoured to 

 gain the bridge ; the falling balls of the foe again arrested her progress. 

 Still aware that the hour of irrevocable decision was arrived she pressed 

 forward. And now, mingled with the diminished fugitives, her foot 

 was half on the bridge ; but a sudden cry of warning arose from the 

 last column of French which had gained' the opposite banks: " Back 

 back ! Yield yourselves to the Russians ! Back back !" Perhaps aware 

 of the fatal meaning of their compatriots, or easily subjected to every 

 new terror, the wretched refugees, cut off from their last hope, fell 

 back with mechanic simultaneousness on the enemy ; while a sound of 

 grounding arms voices imploring mercy stifled moans of victims who 

 found none and the close yells of triumph, told Aimee that they were 

 at length among the Cossacks. She gave a last, a despairing look, 

 towards the bridge ; it was crackling and blazing in the flames, by 

 which the French had endeavoured to cut off the pursuit of their enemy. 

 In the unutterable hurly-burly which followed, Aimee, still pressing the 

 child to her bosom, endeavoured to extricate herself from the shrieking 

 victims and the ruthless conqueror ; and, rushing precipitately along 

 the borders of the river, sought a vain refuge in flight. The Cossacks, 

 instead of pressing on their enemy, dispersed in every direction, more 

 anxious to obtain solid booty than empty honour. Aimee, scarcely 

 knowing what she sought what she hoped for continued, with some 

 other hapless fugitives, her panting and useless flight along the margin 

 of the Beresina. They were naturally pursued by the Scythian victor. 

 Aimee, with desperate resolution, tied the child to her, and made towards 

 the waters. They were deep ; no matter. The stoutest might scarce 

 hope to gain the opposite bank ; she recked not. Anything was better 

 than becoming the prey of the victor anything preferable to life and 

 separation from her child. She had nearly gained the fatal stream. 

 Two other lives would that morning have been added to its fearful host 

 of victims ; but, overpowered by her own exertions and the weight of 

 her precious burden, Aimee sank to the earth. Her person was rudely 

 seized. Words, which seemed more appallingly barbarous from their 

 utterance in a foreign tongue, sounded in her ears. She shrieked with 

 a wild agony of terror to which she had hitherto been comparatively a 

 stranger. Perhaps her cries reached the chief of a small body of French 

 cavalry, which had been the last in quitting the dangerous post of pro- 

 tecting the retreat, and were now plunging their horses into the Beresina, 

 apparently preferring the danger of a swimming passage to the alterna- 

 tive of surrender and captivity. " What, ho, comrades !'' exclaimed the 

 voice of their chief, as wheeling his charger, he forced it, with returning 

 step, up the left bank of the river ; " what, ho ! charge these scattered 

 plunderers ! To the rescue ! They are women that cry to us ; our 

 horses are strong enough to bear such light burdens. Back, back, law- 

 less bandits ! To the river, brave comrades to the river !" Like one 

 in a dream, Aimee heard the parting hoofs of the dispersed Cossack- 

 chargers found herself placed on a horse before that gallant captain 

 and discovered, by a heavy plunge in the water, that she was about to 



