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“Marseillaise.” With our young strong voices we sang the great song of liberty, and the ocean accompanied in a severe key, and over the ridges of its waves carried to our dear Fatherland pale terror and bloody hope! And for ever this soul became to us a symbol.
He—this miserable creature with the hare’s body and the stupidity of the ploughing ox—with the elevated soul of man. “Upon our knees before this hero, friends and companions!” said one of us.
We sang….
The carbines looked upon us, their triggers clattered menacingly, and the sharp stings of bayonets aimed threateningly at our hearts; but louder and louder joyfully resounded the gloomy song! While, in the friendly arms of warriors, swung a black coffin. We were singing in that solemn moment the “Marseillaise!”
