And my remains will for ever be unknown to my friends and relations. Consequently there can never be a monument erected in memory of one who gave his life for his country; but had I not gone posterity would have cursed over my mouldering remains for not having thrown in my might to crush rebellion in its infancy. Farewell my friends, and if while I am gone; 
"My soul takes her flight, 
To the regions of night, 
And my corse shall recline on its bier, 
As ye pass by my tomb,
 where my ashes consume
, O moisten their dust with a tear." 
I have no more time to write about the causes of this war, or the absurdity of compromising with rebels. I am of good cheer and there is not a particle of fear on my mind, - Farewell once more my friends,  Charles Kroff.
