ng. They are country people flying into the wood or to
the mountains. Each carries on his shoulders what he has been able to
scrape together, but few have been able to carry off their property,
for carts and horses have for some weeks past been taken from them by
the soldiers; lads and men drive their herds nervously, the women
loudly wailing, carry their little ones. Again there is a rolling in
the air, sharper and more distinct. A horseman races through the city
gate at wild speed, then another. Our troops are retreating, the crowds
of citizens separate, the people run in terrified anguish into their
houses, and then again into the street; even in the city they prepare
for flight. Loud are the cries and lamentations. He who still possessed
a team of horses, dragged them to the pole, the clothmaker threw his
bales, and the merchant his most valuable chests on the waggons, and
over these their children and those of their neighbours. Waggons and
crowds of flying men thronged to the distant gate. If there is a swampy
marsh almost impassable, or a thick wood in the neighbourhood, they fly
thither. Inaccessible hiding-places, still remembered from the time of
the Swedes, are again sought out. Great troops collect there, closely
packed; the citizens and countrymen conceal themselves with their
cattle and horses for many days; sometimes still longer. After the
battle of Bautzen the parishioners of Tillendorf near Bunzlau abode
more than a week in the nearest wood, their faithful pastor Senftleben
accompanied them, and kept order in that wild spot, he even baptised a
child.[56]

But he who remains in the town with his property, or in the performance
of his duty, is eager to conceal his family and goods. Long has the
case been taken into consideration, and hiding-places ingeniously
devised. If the city has more especially roused the fury of the enemy,
it is threatened with fire, plunder, and the expulsion of the citizens.
In such a case the people carry their money firmly sewed in their
clothes.

One anxious hour passes in feverish hope. The first announcers of the
retreat clatter through the streets, damaged guns escorted by Cossacks.
Slowly they return, the number of their men incomplete, and blackened
by powder, more than one tottering wounded. The infantry follow, and
waggons overcrowded with wounded and dying men. The rear-guard take up
their post at the gate and the corners of the streets, awaiting the
enemy. Young lads