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Updated: June 5, 2025
Middendorf, with whom he his name was Prohaska had been on more intimate terms than the others, once asked him, when he timidly avoided the girls and women who cast kindly glances at him, if his heart never beat faster, and received the answer, "I have but one love to give, and that belongs to our native land." While the battle was raging, Middendorf was fighting close beside his comrade.
At this moment the door was noisily opened, and a woman appeared on the threshold. Behind her was a tall, slender, and pale boy, scarcely fourteen years of age. Both entered the room with tearful eyes and loud lamentations. "Wife, what is the matter what has happened?" exclaimed Old Prohaska, anxiously.
I swear to you that I shall kiss no man until I am permitted to return to you, my father!" "I believe you, dear Leonora," said Prohaska, solemnly. "Leonora, my child, it is time now!" exclaimed her mother, hastily entering the room. "The postilion has already passed our house, and in a quarter of an hour the stage-coach will stop at our door.
The courier, besides, brought the news that the Emperor of Russia had arrived at Breslau, and that the first visit was to Baron von Stein, who secretly lived at Breslau." "Hurrah!" shouted old Prohaska. "Prussia is safe now, for Baron von Stein is back again, and he will know how to expel Napoleon and his French from the country.
You may nurse him here, old man; console him and show him that he may live quite happily, though with but one leg, and that wife and children will love their husband and father no less ardently, provided he is a true man, and has a courageous heart." "You are right, mother," exclaimed Prohaska.
Leonora looked at him smilingly. "It is I, godfather," she said, offering him her hand. "Ah, it is you, Leonora Prohaska," exclaimed M. Werkmeister, putting down the box. "You have received my letter, then, my child? You have at length made up your mind to comply with my wishes to come to my house, and to assist my wife at the store and in the household?
"I should say, 'Kneel down, my Leonora, and receive my last blessing," replied Prohaska, straightening himself and approaching his daughter. Leonora knelt down, and, raising her tearful eyes to her father, whispered: "What blessing would you give me if I were Joan of Orleans? Oh, think I am she, and give me your blessing!"
Alison, the historian, that he was killed in the battle of Dresden, is erroneous. Leonora Prohaska fell in an engagement on the Gorde, the 16th of September, 1813. A bullet pierced her breast. When she felt that she was dying, she revealed to her comrades that she was a woman, and that her name was Leonora Prohaska, and not Charles Renz. Caroline Peters was more fortunate.
Quickly ascending three narrow flights of stairs, she reached a silent corridor, on both sides of which were small doors, and on each a number had been painted. Knocking at the door of number three, a female voice inquired, "Who is there?" "It is I, Leonora Prohaska!" A loud cry of joy resounded; the door was hastily opened, and a young soldier in full uniform appeared on the threshold.
When the enemy fired a volley the others stooped, but Prohaska stood erect, exclaiming, when he was warned, "No bowing! I'll make no obeisance to the French!" A few minutes after, the brave soldier, stricken by a bullet, fell on the greensward. His friends bore him off the field, and Prohaska Eleonore Prohaska proved to be a girl!
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