all its hopes on finding a peaceful settlement of the conflict by moral persuasion, he, on the contrary, with his clear vision foresaw a well-planned military attack by the Prussians, and thought it could only be met by good strategic measures. He therefore urgently pressed for the acquisition of some experienced Polish officers who happened to be in Dresden, as the Saxon revolutionaries appeared to be absolutely lacking in military tactics. Everybody was afraid to take this course; on the other hand, great expectations were entertained from negotiations with the Frankfort States Assembly, which was on its last legs. Everything was to be done as far as possible in legal form. The time passed pleasantly enough. Elegant ladies with their cavaliers promenaded the barricaded streets during those beautiful spring evenings. It seemed to be little more than an entertaining drama. The unaccustomed aspect of things even afforded me genuine pleasure, combined with a feeling that the whole thing was not quite serious, and that a friendly proclamation from the government would put an end to it. So I strolled comfortably home through the numerous barricades at a late hour, thinking as I went of the material for a drama, Achilleus, with which I had been occupied for some time.
At home I found my two nieces, Clara and Ottilie Brockhaus, the daughters of my sister Louisa. They had been living for a year with a governess in Dresden, and their weekly visits and contagious good spirits delighted me. Every one was in a high state of glee about the revolution; they all heartily approved of the barricades, and felt no scruples about desiring victory for their defenders. Protected by the truce, this state of mind remained undisturbed the whole of Friday (5th May). From all parts came news which led us to believe in a universal uprising throughout Germany. Baden and the Palatinate were in the throes of a revolt on behalf of the whole of Germany. Similar rumours came in from free towns like Breslau. In Leipzig, volunteer student corps had mustered contingents for Dresden, which arrived amid the exultation of the populace. A fully equipped defence department was organised at the Town Hall, and young Heine, disappointed like myself in his hopes of the performance of Lohengrin, had also joined this body. Vigorous promises of support came from the Saxon Erzgebirge, as well as announcements that armed contingents were forthcoming. Every one thought, therefore, that if only the Old Town were kept well barricaded, it could safely defy the threat of foreign occupation. Early on Saturday, 6th May, it was obvious that the situation was becoming more serious. Prussian troops had marched into the New Town, and the Saxon troops, which it had not been considered advisable to use for an attack, were kept loyal to the flag. The truce expired at noon, and the troops, supported by several guns, at once opened the attack on one, of the principal positions held by the people on the Neumarkt.
So far I had entertained no other conviction than that the matter would be decided in the most summary fashion as soon as it came to an actual conflict, for there was no evidence in the state of my own feelings (or, indeed, in what I was able to gather independently of them) of that passionate seriousness of purpose, without which tests as severe as this have never been successfully withstood. It was irritating to me, while I heard the sharp rattle of fire, to be unable to gather anything of what was going on, and I thought by climbing the Kreuz tower I might get a good view. Even from this elevation I could not see anything clearly, but I gathered enough to satisfy myself that after an hour of heavy firing the advance artillery of the Prussian troops had retired, and had at last been completely silenced, their withdrawal being signalled by a loud shout of jubilation from the populace. Apparently the first attack had exhausted itself; and now my interest in what was going on began to assume a more and more vivid hue. To obtain information in greater detail I hurried back to the Town Hall. I could extract nothing, however, from the boundless confusion which I met, until at last I came upon Bakunin in the rnidst of the main group of speakers. He was able to give me an extraordinarily accurate account of what had happened. Information had reached headquarters from a barricade in the Neumarkt where the attack was most serious, that everything had been in a state of confusion there before the onslaught of the troops; thereupon my friend Marschall von Bieberstein, together with Leo von Zichlinsky, who were officers in the citizen corps, had called up some volunteers and conducted them to the place of danger. Kreis- Amtmann Heubner of Freiberg, without a weapon to defend himself, and with bared head, jumped immediately on to the top of the barricade, which had just been abandoned by all its defenders. He was the sole member of the provisional government to remain on the spot, the leaders, Todt and Tschirner, having disappeared at the first sign of a panic. Heubner turned round to exhort the volunteers to advance, addressing them in stirring words. His success was complete, the barricade was taken again, and a fire, as unexpected as it was fierce, was directed upon the troops, which, as I myself saw, were forced to retire. Bakunin had been in close touch with this action, he had followed the volunteers, and he now explained to me that however narrow might be the political views of Heubner (he belonged to the moderate Left of the Saxon Chamber), he was a man of noble character, at whose service he had immediately placed his own life.
Bakunin had only needed this example to determine his own line of conduct; he had decided to risk his neck in the attempt and to ask no further questions. Heubner too was now bound to recognise the necessity for extreme measures, and no longer recoiled from any proposal on the part of Bakunin which was directed to this end. The military advice of experienced Polish officers was brought to bear on the commandant, whose incapacity had not been slow to reveal itself; Bakunin, who openly confessed that he understood nothing of pure strategy, never moved from the Town Hall, but remained at Heubner's side, giving advice and information in every direction with wonderful sangfroid. For the rest of the day the battle confined itself to skirmishes by sharpshooters from the various positions. I was itching to climb the Kreuz tower again, so as to get the widest possible survey over the whole field of action. In order to reach this tower from the Town Hall, one had to pass through a space which was under a cross-fire of rifle-shots from the troops posted in the royal palace. At a moment when this square was quite deserted, I yielded to my daring impulse, and crossed it on my way to the Kreuz tower at a slow pace, remembering that in such circumstances the young soldier is advised never to hurry, because by so doing he may draw the shot upon himself. On reaching this post of vantage I found several people who had gathered there, some of them driven by a curiosity like my own, others in obedience to an order from the headquarters of the revolutionaries to reconnoitre the enemy's movements. Amongst them I made the acquaintance of a schoolmaster called Berthold, a man of quiet and gentle disposition, but full of conviction and determination. I lost myself in an earnest philosophical discussion with him which extended to the widest spheres of religion. At the same time he showed a homely anxiety to protect us from the cone-shaped bullets of the Prussian sharpshooters by placing us ingeniously behind a barricade consisting of one of the straw mattresses which he had cajoled out of the warder. The Prussian sharpshooters were posted on the distant tower of the Frauenkirche, and had chosen the height occupied by us as their target. At nightfall I found it impossible to make up my mind to go home and leave my interesting place of refuge, so I persuaded the warder to send a subordinate to Friedrichstadt with a few lines to my wife, and with instructions to ask her to let me have some necessary provisions. Thus I spent one of the most extraordinary nights of my life, taking turns with Berthold to keep watch and sleep, close beneath the great bell with its terrible groaning clang, and with the accompaniment of the continuous rattle of the Prussian shot as it beat against the tower walls.
Sunday (the 7th of May) was one of the most beautiful days in the year. I was awakened by the song of a nightingale, which rose to our ears from the Schutze garden close by. A sacred calm and peacefulness lay over the town and the wide suburbs of Dresden, which were visible from my point of vantage. Towards sunrise a mist settled upon the outskirts, and suddenly through its folds we could hear the music of the Marseillaise making its way clearly and distinctly from the district of the Tharanderstrasse. As the sound drew nearer and nearer, the mist dispersed, and the glow of the rising sun spread a glittering light upon the weapons of a long column which was winding its way towards the town. It was impossible not to feel deeply impressed at the sight of this continuous procession. Suddenly a perception of that element which I had so long missed in the German people was borne in upon me in all its essential freshness and vital colour. The fact that until this moment I had been obliged to resign myself to its absence, had contributed not a little to the feelings by which I had been swayed. Here I beheld some thousand men from the Erzgebirge, mostly miners, well armed and organised, who had rallied to the defence of Dresden. Soon we saw them march up the Altmarkt opposite the Town Hall, and after receiving a joyful welcome, bivouac there to recover from their journey. Reinforcements continued to pour in the whole day long, and the heroic achievement of the previous day now received its reward in the shape of a universal elevation of spirits. A change seemed to have been made in the plan of attack by the Prussian troops. This could be gathered from the fact that numerous simultaneous attacks, but of a less concentrated type, were made upon various positions. The troops which had come to reinforce us brought with them four small cannon, the property of a certain Herr Thade von Burgk, whose acquaintance I had made before on the occasion of the anniversary of the founding of the Dresden Choral Society, when he had made a speech which was well intentioned but wearisome to the point of being ludicrous. The recollection of this speech returned to me with peculiar irony, now that his cannon were being fired from the barricade upon the enemy. I felt a still deeper impression, however, when, towards eleven o'clock, I saw
