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History of Friedrich II of Prussia V 20 by Thomas Carlyle

Part 2 out of 6

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Friedrich understands well enough that Daun, with the facts now
before him, will gradually form his plan, and also, from the lie of
matters, what his plan will be: many are the times Daun has
elaborately reconnoitred, elaborately laid his plan; but found, on
coming to execute, that his Friedrich was off in the interim, and
the plan gone to air. Friedrich has about 2,000 wagons to drag with
him in these swift marches: Glogau Magazine, his one resource,
should Breslau and Schweidnitz prove unattainable, is forty-five
long miles northwestward. "Let us lean upon Glogau withal," thinks
Friedrich; "and let us be out of this straightway! March to-night;
towards Parchwitz, which is towards Glogau too. Army rest till
daybreak on the Heights of Pfaffendorf yonder, to examine, to wait
its luck: let the empty meal-wagons jingle on to Glogau;
load themselves there, and jingle back to us in Parchwitz
neighborhood, should Parchwitz not have proved impossible to our
manoeuvrings,--let us hope it may not!"--Daun and the Austrians
having ceased reconnoitring, and gone home, Friedrich rides with
his Generals, through Liegnitz, across the Schwartzwasser, to the
Pfaffendorf Heights. "Here, Messieurs, is our first halting-place
to be: here we shall halt till daybreak, while the meal-wagons
jingle on!" And explains to them orally where each is to take post,
and how to behave. Which done, he too returns home, no doubt a
wearied individual; and at 4 of the afternoon lies down to try for
an hour or two of sleep, while all hands are busy packing,
according to the Orders given.

It is a fact recorded by Friedrich himself, and by many other
people, That, at this interesting juncture, there appeared at the
King's Gate, King hardly yet asleep, a staggering Austrian Officer,
Irish by nation, who had suddenly found good to desert the Austrian
Service for the Prussian--("Sorrow on them: a pack of"--what shall
I say?)--Irish gentleman, bursting with intelligence of some kind,
but evidently deep in liquor withal. "Impossible; the King is
asleep," said the Adjutant on duty; but produced only louder
insistence from the drunk Irish gentleman. "As much as all your
heads are worth; the King's own safety, and not a moment to lose!"
What is to be done? They awaken the King: "The man is drunk, but
dreadfully in earnest, your Majesty." "Give him quantities of weak
tea [Tempelhof calls it tea, but Friedrich merely warm water];
then examine him, and report if it is anything." Something it was:
"Your Majesty to be attacked, for certain, this night!" what his
Majesty already guessed:--something, most likely little; but nobody
to this day knows. Visible only, that his Majesty, before sunset,
rode out reconnoitring with this questionable Irish gentleman, now
in a very flaccid state; and altered nothing whatever in prior
arrangements;--and that the flaccid Irish gentleman staggers out of
sight, into dusk, into rest and darkness, after this one appearance
on the stage of history. [ OEuvres de Frederic, italic> v. 63; Tempelhof, iv. 154.]

From about 8 in the evening, Friedrich's people got on march, in
their several columns, and fared punctually on; one column through
the streets of Liegnitz, others to left and to right of that;
to left mainly, as remoter from the Austrians and their listening
outposts from beyond the Katzbach River;--where the camp-fires are
burning extremely distinct to-night. The Prussian camp-fires, they
too are all burning uncommonly vivid; country people employed to
feed them; and a few hussar sentries and drummers to make the
customary sounds for Daun's instruction, till a certain hour.
Friedrich's people are clearing the North Suburb of Liegnitz,
crossing the Schwartzwasser: artillery and heavy wagons all go by
the Stone-Bridge at Topferberg (POTTER-HILL) there; the lighter
people by a few pontoons farther down that stream, in the
Pfaffendorf vicinity. About one in the morning, all, even the right
wing from Schimmelwitz, are safely across.

Schwartzwasser, a River of many tails (boggy most of them, Sohnelle
or SWIFT Deichsel hardly an exception), gathering itself from the
southward for twenty or more miles, attains its maximum of north at
a place called Waldau, not far northwest of Topferberg. Towards
this Waldau, Lacy is aiming all night; thence to pounce on our
"left wing,"--which he will find to consist of those empty watch-
fires merely. Down from Waldau, past Topferberg and Pfaffendorf
(PRIEST-town, or as we should call it, "Preston"), which are all on
its northern or left bank, Schwartzwasser's course is in the form
of an irregular horse-shoe; high ground to its northern side,
Liegnitz and hollows to its southern; till in an angular way it do
join Katzbach, and go with that, northward for Oder the rest of its
course. On the brow of these horse-shoe Heights,--which run
parallel to Schwartzwasser one part of them, and nearly parallel to
Katzbach another (though above a mile distant, these latter, from
IT),--Friedrich plants himself: in Order of Battle;
slightly altering some points of the afternoon's program, and
correcting his Generals, "Front rather so and so; see where their
fires are, yonder!" Daun's fires, Loudon's fires; vividly visible
both:--and, singular to say, there is nothing yonder either but a
few sentries and deceptive drums! All empty yonder too, even as our
own Camp is; all gone forth, even as we are; we resting here, and
our meal-wagons jingling on Glogau way!

Excellency Mitchell, under horse-escort, among the lighter baggage,
is on Kuchelberg Heath, in scrubby country, but well north behind
Friedrich's centre: has had a dreadful march; one comfort only,
that his ciphers are all burnt. The rest of us lie down on the
grass;--among others, young Herr von Archenholtz, ensign or
lieutenant in Regiment FORCADE: who testifies that it is one of the
beautifulest nights, the lamps of Heaven shining down in an
uncommonly tranquil manner; and that almost nobody slept.
The soldier-ranks all lay horizontal, musket under arm;
chatting pleasantly in an undertone, or each in silence revolving
such thoughts as he had. The Generals amble like observant spirits,
hoarsely imperative. [Archenholtz, ii. 100-111.] Friedrich's line,
we observed, is in the horse-shoe shape (or PARABOLIC, straighter
than horse-shoe), fronting the waters. Ziethen commands in that
smaller Schwartzwasser part of the line, Friedrich in the Katzbach
part, which is more in risk. And now, things being moderately in
order, Friedrich has himself sat down--I think, towards the middle
or convex part of his lines--by a watch-fire he has found there;
and, wrapt in his cloak, his many thoughts melting into haze, has
sunk ito a kind of sleep. Seated on a drum, some say; half asleep
by the watch-fire, time half-past 2,--when a Hussar Major, who has
been out by the Bienowitz, the Pohlschildern way, northward,
reconnoitring, comes dashing up full speed: "The King? where is the
King?" "What is it, then?" answers the King for himself.
"Your Majesty, the Enemy in force, from Bienowitz, from
Pohlschildern, coming on our Left Wing yonder; has flung back all
my vedettes: is within 500 yards by this time!"

Friedrich springs to horse; has already an Order speeding forth,
"General Schenkendorf and his Battalion, their cannon, to the crown
of the Wolfsberg, on our left yonder; swift!" How excellent that
every battalion (as by Order that we read) "has its own share of
the heavy cannon always at hand!" ejaculate the military critics.
Schenkendorf, being nimble, was able to astonish the Enemy with
volumes of case-shot from the Wolfsberg, which were very deadly at
that close distance. Other arrangements, too minute for recital
here, are rapidly done; and our Left Wing is in condition to
receive its early visitors,--Loudon or whoever they may be. It is
still dubious to the History-Books whether Friedrich was in clear
expectation of Loudon here; though of course he would now guess it
was Loudon. But there is no doubt Loudon had not the least
expectation of Friedrich; and his surprise must have been intense,
when, instead of vacant darkness (and some chance of Prussian
baggage, which he had heard of), Prussian musketries and case-shot
opened on him.

Loudon had, as per order, quitted his Camp at Jeschkendorf, about
the time Friedrich did his at Schimmelwitz; and, leaving the lights
all burning, had set forward on his errand; which was (also
identical with Friedrich's), to seize the Heights of Pfaffendorf,
and be ready there when day broke. scouts having informed him that
the Prussian Baggage was certainly gone through to Topferberg,--
more his scouts did not know, nor could Loudon guess,--"We will
snatch that Baggage!" thought Loudon; and with such view has been
speeding all he could; no vanguard ahead, lest he alarm the Baggage
escort: Loudon in person, with the Infantry of the Reserve,
striding on ahead, to devour any Baggage-escort there may be.
Friedrich's reconnoitring Hussar parties had confirmed this belief:
"Yes, yes!" thought Loudon. And now suddenly, instead of Baggage to
capture, here, out of the vacant darkness, is Friedrich in person,
on the brow of the Heights where we intended to form!--

Loudon's behavior, on being hurled back with his Reserve in this
manner, everybody says, was magnificent. Judging at once what the
business was, and that retreat would be impossible without ruin, he
hastened instantly to form himself, on such ground as he had,--
highly unfavorable ground, uphill in part, and room in it only for
Five Battalions (5,000) of front;--and came on again, with a great
deal of impetuosity and good skill; again and ever again, three
times in all. Had partial successes; edged always to the right to
get the flank of Friedrich; but could not, Friedrich edging
conformably. From his right-hand, or northeast part, Loudon poured
in, once and again, very furious charges of Cavalry; on every
repulse, drew out new Battalions from his left and centre, and
again stormed forward: but found it always impossible. Had his
subordinates all been Loudons, it is said, there was once a fine
chance for him. By this edging always to the northeastward on his
part and Friedrich's, there had at last a considerable gap in
Friedrich's Line established itself,--not only Ziethen's Line and
Friedrich's Line now fairly fallen asunder, but, at the Village of
Panten, in Friedrich's own Line, a gap where anybody might get in.
One of the Austrian Columns was just entering Panten when the Fight
began: in Panten that Column has stood cogitative ever since;
well to left of Loudon and his struggles; but does not, till the
eleventh hour, resolve to push through. At the eleventh hour;--and
lo, in the nick of time, Mollendorf (our Leuthen-and-Hochkirch
friend) got his eye on it; rushed up with infantry and cavalry;
set Panten on fire, and blocked out that possibility and the too
cogitative Column.

Loudon had no other real chance: his furious horse-charges and
attempts were met everywhere by corresponding counter-fury.
Bernburg, poor Regiment Bernburg, see what a figure it is making!
Left almost alone, at one time, among those horse-charges;
spending its blood like water, bayonet-charging, platooning as
never before; and on the whole, stemming invincibly that horse-
torrent,--not unseen by Majesty, it may be hoped; who is here where
the hottest pinch is. On the third repulse, which was worse than
any before, Loudon found he had enough; and tried it no farther.
Rolled over the Katzbach, better or worse; Prussians catching 6,000
of him, but not following farther: threw up a tine battery at
Bienowitz, which sheltered his retreat from horse:--and went his
ways, sorely but not dishonorably beaten, after an hour and half of
uncommonly stiff fighting, which had been very murderous to Loudon.
Loss of 10,000 to him: 4,000 killed and wounded; prisoners 6,000;
82 cannon, 28 flags, and other items; the Prussian loss being 1,800
in whole. [Tempelhof, iv. 159.] By 5 o'clock, the Battle, this
Loudon part of it, was quite over; Loudon (35,000) wrecking himself
against Friedrich's Left Wing (say half of his Army, some 15,000)
in such conclusive manner. Friedrich's Left Wing alone has been
engaged hitherto. And now it will be Ziethen's turn, if Daun and
Lacy still come on.

By 11 last night, Daun's Pandours, creeping stealthily on, across
the Katzbach, about Schimmelwitz, had discerned with amazement that
Friedrich's Camp appeared to consist only of watch-fires; and had
shot off their speediest rider to Daun, accordingly; but it was one
in the morning before Daun, busy marching and marshalling, to be
ready at the Katzbach by daylight, heard of this strange news;
which probably he could not entirely believe till seen with his own
eyes. What a spectacle! One's beautiful Plan exploded into mere
imbroglio of distraction; become one knows not what! Daun's watch-
fires too had all been left burning; universal stratagem, on both
sides, going on; producing--tragically for some of us--a TRAGEDY of
Errors, or the Mistakes of a Night! Daun sallied out again, in his
collapsed, upset condition, as soon as possible: pushed on, in the
track of Friedrich; warning Lacy to push on. Daun, though within
five miles all the while, had heard nothing of the furious Fight
and cannonade; "southwest wind having risen," so Daun said, and is
believed by candid persons,--not by the angry Vienna people, who
counted it impossible: "Nonsense; you were not deaf; but you
loitered and haggled, in your usual way; perhaps not sorry that,
the brilliant Loudon should get a rebuff!"

Emerging out of Liegnitz, Daun did see, to northeastward, a vast
pillar or mass of smoke, silently mounting, but could do nothing
with it. "Cannon-smoke, no doubt; but fallen entirely silent, and
not wending hitherward at all. Poor Loudon, alas, must have got
beaten!" Upon which Daun really did try, at least upon Ziethen;
but could do nothing. Poured cavalry across the Stone-bridge at the
Topferberg: who drove in Ziethen's picket there; but were torn to
pieces by Ziethen's cannon. Ziethen across the Schwartzwasser is
alert enough. How form in order of battle here, with Ziethen's
batteries shearing your columns longitudinally, as they march up?
Daun recognizes the impossibility; wends back through Liegnitz to
his Camp again, the way he had come. Tide-hour missed again;
ebb going uncommonly rapid! Lacy had been about Waldau, to try
farther up the Schwartzwasser on Ziethen's right: but the
Schwartzwasser proved amazingly boggy; not accessible on any point
to heavy people,--"owing to bogs on the bank," with perhaps poor
prospect on the other side too!

And, in fact, nothing of Lacy more than of Daun, could manage to
get across: nothing except two poor Hussar regiments; who, winding
up far to the left, attempted a snatch on the Baggage about
Hummeln,--Hummeln, or Kuchel of the Scrubs. And gave a new alarm to
Mitchell, the last of several during this horrid night; who has sat
painfully blocked in his carriage, with such a Devil's tumult,
going on to eastward, and no sight, share or knowledge to be had of
it. Repeated hussar attacks there were on the Baggage here,
Loudon's hussars also trying: but Mitchell's Captain was
miraculously equal to the occasion; and had beaten them all off.
Mitchell, by magnanimous choice of his own, has been in many Fights
by the side of Friedrich; but this is the last he will ever be in
or near;--this miraculous one of Liegnitz, 3 to 4.30 A.M., Friday,
August 15th, 1760.

Never did such a luck befall Friedrich before or after. He was
clinging on the edge of slippery abysses, his path hardly a foot's-
breadth, mere enemies and avalanches hanging round on every side:
ruin likelier at no moment, of his life;--and here is precisely the
quasi-miracle which was needed to save him. Partly by accident too;
the best of management crowned by the luckiest of accidents.
[Tempelhof, iv. 151-171; Archenholtz, ubi supra; HO BERICHT VON DER
(Seyfarth, Beylagen, ii. 696-703); &c. &c.]

Friedrich rested four hours on the Battle-field,--if that could be
called rest, which was a new kind of diligence highly wonderful.
Diligence of gathering up accurately the results of the Battle;
packing them into portable shape; and marching off with them in
one's pocket, so to speak. Major-General Saldern had charge of
this, a man of many talents; and did it consummately. The wounded,
Austrian as well as Prussian, are placed in the empty meal-wagons;
the more slightly wounded are set on horseback, double in possible
cases: only the dead are left lying: 100 or more meal-wagons are
left, their teams needed for drawing our 82 new cannon;--the wagons
we split up, no Austrians to have them; usable only as firewood for
the poor Country-folk. The 4 or 5,000 good muskets lying on the
field, shall not we take them also? Each cavalry soldier slings one
of them across his back, each baggage driver one: and the muskets
too are taken care of. About 9 A.M., Friedrich, with his 6,000
prisoners, new cannon-teams, sick-wagon teams, trophies,
properties, is afoot again. One of the succinctest of Kings.

I should have mentioned the joy of poor Regiment Bernburg;
which rather affected me. Loudon gone, the miracle of Battle done,
and this miraculous packing going on,--Friedrich riding about among
his people, passed along the front of Bernburg, the eye of him
perhaps intimating, "I saw you, BURSCHE;" but no word coming from
him. The Bernburg Officers, tragically tressless in their hats,
stand also silent, grim as blackened stones (all Bernburg black
with gunpowder): "In us also is no word; unless our actions perhaps
speak?" But a certain Sergeant, Fugleman, or chief Corporal, stept
out, saluting reverentially: "Regiment Bernburg, IHRO MAJESTAT--?"
"Hm; well, you did handsomely. Yes, you shall have your side-arms
back; all shall be forgotten and washed out!" "And you are again
our Gracious King, then?" says the Sergeant, with tears in his
eyes.--"GEWISS, Yea, surely!" [Tempelhof, iv. 162-164.] Upon which,
fancy what a peal of sound from the ecstatic throat and heart of
this poor Regiment. Which I have often thought of; hearing mutinous
blockheads,"glorious Sons of Freedom" to their own thinking, ask
their natural commanding Officer, "Are not we as good as thou? Are
not all men equal?" Not a whit of it, you mutinous blockheads;
very far from it indeed!

This was the breaking of Friedrich's imprisonment in the deadly
rock-labyrinths; this success at Liegnitz delivered him into free
field once more. For twenty-four hours more, indeed, the chance was
still full of anxiety to him; for twenty-four hours Daun, could he
have been rapid, still had the possibilities in hand;--but only
Daun's Antagonist was usually rapid. About 9 in the morning, all
road-ready, this latter Gentleman "gave three Salvos, as Joy-fire,
on the field of Liegnitz;" and, in the above succinct shape,--
leaving Ziethen to come on, "with the prisoners, the sick-wagons
and captured cannon," in the afternoon,--marched rapidly away.
For Parchwitz, with our best speed: Parchwitz is the road to
Breslau, also to Glogau,--to Breslau, if it be humanly possible!
Friedrich has but two days' bread left; on the Breslau road, at
Auras, there is Czernichef with 24,000; there are, or there may be,
the Loudon Remnants rallied again, the Lacy Corps untouched, all
Daun's Force, had Daun made any despatch at all. Which Daun seldom
did. A man slow to resolve, and seeking his luck in leisure.

All judges say, Daun ought now to have marched, on this enterprise
of still intercepting Friedrich, without loss of a moment. But he
calculated Friedrich would probably spend the day in TE-DEUM-ing on
the Field (as is the manner of some); and that, by to-morrow,
things would be clearer to one's own mind. Daun was in no haste;
gave no orders,--did not so much as send Czernichef a Letter.
Czernichef got one, however. Friedrich sent him one; that is to
say, sent him one TO INTERCEPT. Friedrich, namely, writes a Note
addressed to his Brother Henri: "Austrians totally beaten this day;
now for the Russians, dear Brother; and swift, do what we have
agreed on!" [ OEuvres de Frederic, v. 67.]
Friedrich hands this to a Peasant, with instructions to let himself
be taken by the Russians, and give it up to save his life.
Czernichef, it is thought, got this Letter; and perhaps rumor
itself, and the delays of Daun, would, at any rate, have sent him
across. Across he at once went, with his 24,000, and burnt his
Bridge. A vanished Czernichef;--though Friedrich is not yet sure of
it: and as for the wandering Austrian Divisions, the Loudons,
Lacys, all is dark to him.

So that, at Parchwitz, next morning (August 16th), the question,
"To Glogau? To Breslau?" must have been a kind of sphinx-enigma to
Friedrich; dark as that, and, in case of error, fatal. After some
brief paroxysm of consideration, Friedrich's reading was, "To
Breslau, then!" And, for hours, as the march went on, he was
noticed "riding much about," his anxieties visibly great. Till at
Neumarkt (not far from the Field of LEUTHEN), getting on the
Heights there,--towards noon, I will guess,--what a sight!
Before this, he had come upon Austrian Out-parties, Beck's or
somebody's, who did not wait his attack: he saw, at one point, "the
whole Austrian Army on march (the tops of its columns visible among
the knolls, three miles off, impossible to say whitherward);"
and fared on all the faster, I suppose, such a bet depending;--and,
in fine, galloped to the Heights of Neumarkt for a view: "Dare we
believe it? Not an Austrian there!" And might be, for the moment,
the gladdest of Kings. Secure now of Breslau, of junction with
Henri: fairly winner of the bet;--and can at last pause, and take
breath, very needful to his poor Army, if not to himself, after
such a mortal spasm of sixteen days! Daun had taken the Liegnitz
accident without remark; usually a stoical man, especially in other
people's misfortunes; but could not conceal his painful
astonishment on this new occasion,--astonishment at unjust fortune,
or at his own sluggardly cunctations, is not said.

Next day (August 17th), Friedrich encamps at Hermannsdorf, head-
quarter the Schloss of Hermannsdorf, within seven miles of Breslau;
continues a fortnight there, resting his wearied people, himself
not resting much, watching the dismal miscellany of entanglements
that yet remain, how these will settle into groups,--especially
what Daun and his Soltikof will decide on. In about a fortnight,
Daun's decision did become visible; Soltikof's not in a fortnight,
nor ever clearly at all. Unless it were To keep a whole skin, and
gradually edge home to his victuals. As essentially it was, and
continued to be; creating endless negotiations, and futile
overtures and messagings from Daun to his barbarous Friend, endless
suasions and troubles from poor Montalembert,--of which it would
weary every reader to hear mention, except of the result only.

Friedrich, for his own part, is little elated with these bits of
successes at Liegnitz or since; and does not deceive himself as to
the difficulties, almost the impossibilities, that still lie ahead.
In answer to D'Argens, who has written ("at midnight," starting out
of bed "the instant the news came"), in zealous congratulation on
Liegnitz, here is a Letter of Friedrich's: well worth reading,--
though it has been oftener read than almost any other of his.
A Letter which D'Argens never saw in the original form; which was
captured by the Austrians or Cossacks; [See OEuvres de
Frederic, xix. 198 (D'Argens himself, "19th October"
following), and ib. 191 n.; Rodenbeck, ii. 31, 36;--mention of it
in Voltaire, Montalembert, &c.] which got copied everywhere, soon
stole into print, and is ever since extensively known.


"HERMANNSDORF, near Breslau, 27th August, 1760.

"In other times, my dear Marquis, the Affair of the 15th would have
settled the Campaign; at present it is but a scratch. There will be
needed a great Battle to decide our fate: such, by all appearance,
we shall soon have; and then you may rejoice, if the event is
favorable to us. Thank you, meanwhile, for all your sympathy.
It has cost a deal of scheming, striving and much address to bring
matters to this point. Don't speak to me of dangers; the last
Action costs me only a Coat [torn, useless, only one skirt left, by
some rebounding cannon-ball?] and a Horse [shot under me]: that is
not paying dear for a victory.

"In my life, I was never in so bad a posture as in this Campaign.
Believe me, miracles are still needed if I am to overcome all the
difficulties which I still see ahead. And one is growing weak
withal. 'Herculean' labors to accomplish at an age when my powers
are forsaking me, my weaknesses increasing, and, to speak candidly,
even hope, the one comfort of the unhappy, begins to be wanting.
You are not enough acquainted with the posture of things, to know
all the dangers that threaten the State: I know them, and conceal
them; I keep all the fears to myself, and communicate to the Public
only the hopes, and the trifle of good news I may now and then
have. If the stroke I am meditating succeed [stroke on Daun's Anti-
Schweidnitz strategies, of which anon], then, my dear Marquis, it
will be time to expand one's joy; but till then let us not flatter
ourselves, lest some unexpected bit of bad news depress us
too much.

"I live here [Schloss of Hermannsdorf, a seven miles west of
Breslau] like a Military Monk of La Trappe: endless businesses, and
these done, a little consolation from my Books. I know not if I
shall outlive this War: but should it so happen, I am firmly
resolved to pass the remainder of my life in solitude, in the bosom
of Philosophy and Friendship. When the roads are surer, perhaps you
will write me oftener. I know not where our winter-quarters this
time are to be! My House in Breslau is burnt down in the
Bombardment [Loudon's, three weeks ago]. Our enemies grudge us
everything, even daylight, and air to breathe: some nook, however,
they must leave us; and if it be a safe one, it will be a true
pleasure to have you again with me.

"Well, my dear Marquis, what has become of the Peace with France
[English Peace]! Your Nation, you see, is blinder than you thought:
those fools will lose their Canada and Pondicherry, to please the
Queen of Hungary and the Czarina. Heaven grant Prince Ferdinand may
pay them for their zeal! And it will be the innocent that suffer,
the poor officers and soldiers, not the Choiseuls and--... But here
is business come on me. Adieu, dear Marquis; I embrace you.--F."
[ OEuvres de Frederic, xix. 191.]

Two Events, of opposite complexion, a Russian and a Saxon,
Friedrich had heard of while at Hermannsdorf, before writing as
above. The Saxon Event is the pleasant one, and comes first.

HULSEN ON THE DURRENBERG, AUGUST 20th. "August 20th, at Strehla, in
that Schlettau-Meissen Country, the Reichsfolk and Austrians made
attack on Hulsen's Posts, principal Post of them the Durrenberg
(DRY-HILL) there,--in a most extensive manner; filling the whole
region with vague artillery-thunder, and endless charges, here,
there, of foot and horse; which all issued in zero and minus
quantities; Hulsen standing beautifully to his work, and Hussar
Kleist especially, at one point, cutting in with masterly
execution, which proved general overthrow to the Reichs Project;
and left Hulsen master of the field and of his Durrenberg, PLUS
1,217 prisoners and one Prince among them, and one cannon: a Hulsen
who has actually given a kind of beating to the Reichsfolk and
Austrians, though they were 30,000 to his 10,000, and had counted
on making a new Maxen of it." [Archenholts, ii. 114; BERICHT VON
Beylagen, ii. 703-719).] Friedrich writes a
glad laudatory Letter to Hulsen: "Right, so; give them more of that
when they apply next!" [Letter in SCHONING, ii. 396, "Hermsdorf"
(Hermannsdorf), "27th August, 1760."]

This is a bit of sunshine to the Royal mind, dark enough otherwise.
Had Friedrich got done here, right fast would he fly to the relief
of Hulsen, and recovery of Saxony. Hope, in good moments, says,
"Hulsen will be able to hold out till then!" Fear answers, "No, he
cannot, unless you get done here extremely soon!"--The Russian
Event, full of painful anxiety to Friedrich, was a new Siege of
Colberg. That is the sad fact; which, since the middle of August,
has been becoming visibly certain.

SECOND SIEGE OF COLBERG, AUGUST 26th. "Under siege again, that poor
Place; and this time the Russians seem to have made a vow that take
it they will. Siege by land and by sea; land-troops direct from
Petersburg, 15,000 in all (8,000 of them came by ship), with
endless artillery; and near 40 Russian and Swedish ships-of-war,
big and little, blackening the waters of poor Colberg. August 26th
[the day before Friedrich's writing as above], they have got all
things adjusted,--the land-troops covered by redoubts to rearward,
ships moored in their battering-places;--and begin such a
bombardment and firing of red-hot balls upon Colberg as was rarely
seen. To which, one can only hope old Heyde will set a face of
gray-steel character, as usual; and prove a difficult article to
deal with, till one get some relief contrived for him.
[Archenholtz, ii. 116: in Helden-Geschichte,
(vi.73-83), "TAGEBUCH of Siege, 26th August-18th September," and
other details.]

Chapter IV.


In spite of Friedrich's forebodings, an extraordinary recoil, in
all Anti-Friedrich affairs, ensued upon Liegnitz; everything taking
the backward course, from which it hardly recovered, or indeed did
not recover at all, during the rest of this Campaign. Details on
the subsequent Daun-Friedrich movements--which went all aback for
Daun, Daun driven into the Hills again, Friedrich hopeful to cut
off his bread, and drive him quite through the Hills, and home
again--are not permitted us. No human intellect in our day could
busy itself with understanding these thousand-fold marchings,
manoeuvrings, assaults, surprisals, sudden facings-about (retreat
changed to advance); nor could the powerfulest human memory, not
exclusively devoted to study the Art Military under Friedrich,
remember them when understood. For soldiers, desirous not to be
sham-soldiers, they are a recommendable exercise; for them I do
advise Tempelhof and the excellent German Narratives and Records.
But in regard to others-- A sample has been given: multiply that by
the ten, by the threescore and ten; let the ingenuous imagination
get from it what will suffice. Our first duty here to poor readers,
is to elicit from that sea of small things the fractions which are
cardinal, or which give human physiognomy and memorability to it;
and carefully suppress all the rest.

Understand, then, that there is a general going-back on the
Austrian and Russian part. Czernichef we already saw at once retire
over the Oder. Soltikof bodily, the second day after, deaf to
Montalembert, lifts himself to rearward; takes post behind bogs and
bushy grounds more and more inaccessible; ["August 18th, to
Trebnitz, on the road to Militsch" (Tempelhof, iv. 167).] followed
by Prince Henri with his best impressiveness for a week longer,
till he seem sufficiently remote and peaceably minded: "Making home
for Poland, he," thinks the sanguine King; "leave Goltz with 12,000
to watch him. The rest of the Army over hither!" Which is done,
August 27th; General Forcade taking charge, instead of Henri,--who
is gone, that day or next, to Breslau, for his health's sake.
"Prince Henri really ill," say some; "Not so ill, but in the
sulks," say others:--partly true, both theories, it is now thought;
impossible to settle in what degree true. Evident it is, Henri sat
quiescent in Breslau, following regimen, in more or less pathetic
humor, for two or three months to come; went afterwards to Glogau,
and had private theatricals; and was no more heard of in this
Campaign. Greatly to his Brother's loss and regret; who is often
longing for "your recovery" (and return hither), to no purpose.

Soltikof does, in his heart, intend for Poland; but has to see the
Siege of Colberg finish first; and, in decency even to the
Austrians, would linger a little: "Willing I always, if only YOU
prove feasible!" Which occasions such negotiating, and messaging
across the Oder, for the next six weeks, as--as shall be omitted in
this place. By intense suasion of Montalembert, Soltikof even
consents to undertake some sham movement on Glogau, thereby to
alleviate his Austrians across the River; and staggers gradually
forward a little in that direction:--sham merely; for he has not a
siege-gun, nor the least possibility on Glogau; and Goltz with the
12,000 will sufficiently take care of him in that quarter.

Friedrich, on junction with Forcade, has risen to perhaps 50,000;
and is now in some condition against the Daun-Loudon-Lacy Armies,
which cannot be double his number. These still hang about, in the
Breslau-Parchwitz region; gloomy of humor; and seem to be aiming at
Schweidnitz,--if that could still prove possible with a Friedrich
present. Which it by no means does; though they try it by their
best combinations;--by "a powerful Chain of Army-posts, isolating
Schweidnitz, and uniting Daun and Loudon;" by "a Camp on the
Zobtenberg, as crown of the same;"--and put Friedrich on his
mettle. Who, after survey of said Chain, executes (night of August
30th) a series of beautiful manoeuvres on it, which unexpectedly
conclude its existence:--"with unaccountable hardihood," as
Archenholtz has it, physiognomically TRUE to Friedrich's general
style just now, if a little incorrect as to the case in hand,
"sees good to march direct, once for all, athwart said Chain;
right across its explosive cannonadings and it,--counter-
cannonading, and marching rapidly on; such a march for insolence,
say the Austrians!" [Archenholtz (ii. 115-116); who is in a hurry,
dateless, and rather confuses a subsequent DAY (September 18th)
with this "night of August 30th." See RETZOW, ii. 26; and still
better, TEMPELHOF, iv. 203.] Till, in this way, the insolent King
has Schweidnitz under his protective hand again; and forces the
Chain to coil itself wholly together, and roll into the Hills for a
safe lodging. Whither he again follows it: with continual changes
of position, vying in inaccessibility with your own;
threatening your meal-wagons; trampling on your skirts in this or
the other dangerous manner; marching insolently up to your very
nose, more than once ("Dittmannsdorf, September 18th," for a chief
instance), and confusing your best schemes. [Tempelhof, iv.
193-231; &c. &c.: in Anonymous of Hamburg,
iv. 222-235, "Diary of the AUSTRIAN Army" (3-8th September).]

This "insolent" style of management, says Archenholtz, was
practised by Julius Caesar on the Gauls; and since his time by
nobody,--till Friedrich, his studious scholar and admirer, revived
it "against another enemy." "It is of excellent efficacy," adds
Tempelhof; "it disheartens your adversary, and especially his
common people, and has the reverse effect on your own; confuses him
in endless apprehensions, and details of self-defence; so that he
can form no plan of his own, and his overpowering resources become
useless to him." Excellent efficacy,--only you must be equal to
doing it; not unequal, which might be very fatal to you!

For about five weeks, Friedrich, eminently practising this style,
has a most complex multifarious Briarean wrestle with big Daun and
his Lacy-Loudon Satellites; who have a troublesome time, running
hither, thither, under danger of slaps, and finding nowhere an
available mistake made. The scene is that intricate Hill-Country
between Schweidnitz and Glatz (kind of GLACIS from Schweidnitz to
the Glatz Mountains): Daun, generally speaking, has his back on
Glatz, Friedrich on Schweidnitz; and we hear of encampings at
Kunzendorf, at BUNZELWITZ, at BURKERSDORF--places which will be
more famous in a coming Year. Daun makes no complaint of his Lacy-
Loudon or other satellite people; who are diligently circumambient
all of them, as bidden; but are unable, like Daun himself, to do
the least good; and have perpetually, Daun and they, a bad life of
it beside this Neighbor. The outer world, especially the Vienna
outer world, is naturally a little surprised: "How is this,
Feldmarschall Daun? Can you do absolutely nothing with him, then;
but sit pinned in the Hills, eating sour herbs!"

In the Russians appears no help. Soltikof on Glogau, we know what
that amounts to! Soltikof is evidently intending home, and nothing
else. To all Austrian proposals,--and they have been manifold, as
poor Montalembert knows too well,--the answer of Soltikof was and
is: "Above 90,000 of you circling about, helping one another to do
Nothing. Happy were you, not a doubt of it, could WE be wiled
across to you, to get worried in your stead!" Daun begins to be
extremely ill-off; provisions scarce, are far away in Bohemia;
and the roads daily more insecure, Friedrich aiming evidently to
get command of them altogether. Think of such an issue to our once
flourishing Campaign 1760! Daun is vigilance itself against such
fatality; and will do anything, except risk a Fight. Here, however,
is the fatal posture: Since September 18th, Daun sees himself
considerably cut off from Glatz, his provision-road more and more
insecure;--and for fourteen days onward, the King and he have got
into a dead-lock, and sit looking into one another's faces; Daun in
a more and more distressed mood, his provender becoming so
uncertain, and the Winter season drawing nigh. The sentries are in
mutual view: each Camp could cannonade the other; but what good
were it? By a tacit understanding they don't. The sentries,
outposts and vedettes forbear musketry; on the contrary, exchange
tobaccoes sometimes, and have a snatch of conversation. Daun is
growing more and more unhappy. To which of the gods, if not to
Soltikof again, can he apply?

Friedrich himself, successful so far, is abundantly dissatisfied
with such a kind of success;--and indeed seems to be less thankful
to his stars than in present circumstances he ought.
Profoundly wearied we find him, worn down into utter disgust in the
Small War of Posts: "Here we still are, nose to nose," exclaims he
(see Letters TO HENRI), "both of us in unattackable camps.
This Campaign appears to me more unsupportable than any of the
foregoing. Take what trouble and care I like, I can't advance a
step in regard to great interests; I succeed only in trifles. ...
Oh for good news of your health: I am without all assistance here;
the Army must divide again before long, and I have none to intrust
it to." [Schoning, ii. 416.]

And TO D'ARGENS, in the same bad days: "Yes, yes, I escaped a great
danger there [at Liegnitz]. In a common War it would have signified
something; but in this it is a mere skirmish; my position little
improved by it. I will not sing Jeremiads to you; nor speak of my
fears and anxieties, but can assure you they are great. The crisis
I am in has taken another shape; but as yet nothing decides it, nor
can the development of it be foreseen. I am getting consumed by
slow fever; I am like a living body losing limb after limb.
Heaven stand by us: we need it much. [ OEuvres de Frederic,
xix. 193 ("Dittmannsdorf, 18th September," day after,
or day of finishing, that cannonade).] ... You talk always of my
person, of my dangers. Need I tell you, it is not necessary that I
live; but it is that I do my duty, and fight for my Country to save
it if possible. In many LITTLE things I have had luck: I think of
A worse Campaign than any of the others: I know not sometimes what
will become of it. But why weary you with such details of my labors
and my sorrows? My spirits have forsaken me. All gayety is buried
with the Loved Noble Ones whom my heart was bound to. Adieu."

Or, again, TO HENRI: Berlin? Yes; I am trying something in bar of
that. Have a bad time of it, in the interim." Our means, my dear
Brother, are so eaten away; far too short for opposing the
prodigious number of our enemies set against us:--if we must fall,
let us date our destruction from the infamous Day of Maxen!"

Is in such health, too, all the while: "Am a little better, thank
you; yet have still the"--what shall we say (dreadful biliary
affair)?--"HEMORRHOIDES AVEUGLES: nothing that, were it not for the
disquietudes I feel: but all ends in this world, and so will these.
... I flatter myself your health is recovering. For these three
days in continuance I have had so terrible a cramp, I thought it
would choke me;--it is now a little gone. No wonder the chagrins
and continual disquietudes I live in should undermine and at length
overturn the robustest constitution." [Schoning, ii. 419:
"2d October." Ib. ii. 410: "16th September." Ib. ii. 408.]

Friedrich, we observe, has heard of certain Russian-Austrian
intentions on Berlin; but, after intense consideration, resolves
that it will behoove him to continue here, and try to dislodge
Daun, or help Hunger to dislodge him; which will be the remedy for
Berlin and all things else. There are news from Colberg of welcome
tenor: could Daun be sent packing, Soltikof, it is probable, will
not be in much alacrity for Berlin!--September 18th, at
Dittmannsdorf, was the first day of Daun's dead-lock: ever since,
he has had to sit, more and more hampered, pinned to the Hills,
eating sour herbs; nothing but Hunger ahead, and a retreat (battle
we will not dream of), likely to be very ruinous, with a Friedrich
sticking to the wings of it. Here is the Note on Colberg:--

SEPTEMBER 18th, COLHERG SIEGE RAISED. "The same September 18th,
what a day at Colberg too! it is the twenty-fourth day of the
continual bombardment there. Colberg is black ashes, most of its
houses ruins, not a house in it uninjured. But Heyde and his poor
Garrison, busy day and night, walk about in it as if fire-proof;
with a great deal of battle still left in them. The King, I know
not whether Heyde is aware, has contrived something of relief;
General Werner coming:--the fittest of men, if there be
possibility. When, see, September 18th, uneasy motion in the
Russian intrenchments (for the Russians too are intrenched against
attack): Something that has surprised the Russians yonder.
Climb, some of you, to the highest surviving steeple, highest
chimney-top if no steeple survive:--Yonder IS Werner come to our
relief, O God the Merciful!"

"Werner, with 5,000, was detached from Glogau (September 5th), from
Goltz's small Corps there; has come as on wings, 200 miles in
thirteen days. And attacks now, as with wings, the astonished
Russian 15,000, who were looking for nothing like him,--with wings,
with claws, and with beak; and in a highly aquiline manner, fierce,
swift, skilful, storms these intrenched Russians straightway,
scatters them to pieces,--and next day is in Colberg, the Siege
raising itself with great precipitation; leaving all its
artilleries and furnitures, rushing on shipboard all of it that can
get,--the very ships-of-war, says Archenholtz, hurrying dangerously
out to sea, as if the Prussian Hussars might possibly take THEM.
A glorious Werner! A beautiful defence, and ditto rescue; which has
drawn the world's attention." [Seyfarth, ii. 634; Archenholtz, ii.
116: in Helden-Geschichte, (vi. 73-83),
TAGEBUCH of Siege.]

Heyde's defence of Colberg, Werner's swift rescue of it, are very
celebrated this Autumn. Medals were struck in honor of them at
Berlin, not at Friedrich's expense, but under Friedrich's
patronage; who purchased silver or gold copies, and gave them
about. Veteran Heyde had a Letter from his Majesty, and one of
these gold Medals;--what an honor! I do not hear that Heyde got any
other reward, or that he needed any. A beautiful old Hero,
voiceless in History; though very visible in that remote sphere, if
you care to look.

That is the news from Colberg; comfortable to Friedrich; not likely
to inspire Soltikof with new alacrity in behalf of Daun. It remains
to us only to add, that Friedrich, with a view to quicken Daun,
shot out (September 24th, after nightfall, and with due mystery) a
Detachment towards Neisse,--4,000 or so, who call themselves
15,000, and affect to be for Mahren ultimately. "For Mahren, and my
bit of daily bread!" Daun may well think; and did for some time
think, or partly did. Pushed off one small detachment really
thither, to look after Mahren; and (September 29th) pushed off
another bigger; Lacy namely, with 15,000, pretending to be
thither,--but who, the instant they were out of Friedrich's sight,
have whirled, at a rapid pace, quite into the opposite direction:
as will shortly be seen! Daun has now other irons in the fire.
Daun, ever since this fatal Dead-lock in the Hills, has been
shrieking hoarsely to the Russians, day and night; who at last take
pity on him,--or find something feasible in his proposals.

AND THEIR OWN BEHOOF (October 3d-12th, 1760).

Powerful entreaties, influences are exercised at Petersburg, and
here in the Russian Camp: "Noble Russian Excellencies, for the love
of Heaven, take this man off my windpipe! A sally into Brandenburg:
oh, could not you? Lacy shall accompany; seizure of Berlin, were it
only for one day!" Soltikof has falleu sick,--and, indeed,
practically vanishes from our affairs at this point;--Fermor, who
has command in the interim, finally consents: "Our poor siege of
Colberg, what an end is come to it! What an end is the whole
Campaign like to have! Let us at least try this of Berlin, since
our hands are empty." The joy of Daun, of Montalembert, and of
everybody in Austrian Court and Camp may be conceived.

Russians to the amount of 20,000, Czernichef Commander; Tottleben
Second in command, a clever soldier, who knows Berlin: these are to
start from Sagan Country, on this fine Expedition, and to push on
at the very top of their speed. September 20th, Tottleben, with
3,000 of them as Vanguard, does accordingly cross Oder, at Beuthen
in Sagan Country; and strides forward direct upon Berlin:
Lacy, with 15,000, has started from Silesia, we saw how, above a
week later (September 29th), but at a still more furious rate of
speed. Soltikof,--theoretically Soltikof, but practically Fermor,
should the dim German Books be ambiguous to any studious creature,
--with the Main Army (which by itself is still a 20,000 odd), moves
to Frankfurt, to support the swift Expedition, and be within two
marches of it. Here surely is a feasibility! Berlin, for defence,
has nothing but weak palisades; and of effective garrison
1,200 men.

And feasible, in a sort, this thing did prove; indisputably
delivering Daun from strangulation in the Silesian Mountains;
filling the Gazetteer mind with loud emotion of an empty nature;
and very much affecting many poor people in Berlin and
neighborhood. Making a big Chapter in Berlin Local History;
though compressible to small bulk for strangers, who have no
specific sympathies in that locality.

"FRIDAY, 3d OCTOBER, 1760, Tottleben, with his hasty Vanguard of
3,000, preceded by hastier rumor, comes circling round Berlin
environs; takes post at the Halle Gate [West side of the City];
summons Rochow [the same old Commandant of Haddick's time];--
requires instant admittance; ransom of Four million Thalers, and
other impossible things. Berlin has been putting itself in some
posture; repairing its palisades, throwing up bits of redoubts in
front of the gates, and, though sounding with alarms and
uncertainties, shows a fine spirit of readiness for the emergency.
Rochow is still Commandant, the same old Rochow who shrunk so
questionably in Haddick's time: but Rochow has no Court to tremble
for at present; Queen and Royal Family, Archives, Principal
Ministries, Directorium in a body, went all to Magdeburg again, on
the Kunersdorf Disaster last year, and are safe from such insults.
The spirit of the population, it appears, even of the rich classes,
some of whom are very rich, is extraordinary. Besides Rochow,
moreover, there are, by accident, certain Generals in Berlin:
Seidlitz and two others, recovering from their Kunersdorf hurts,
who step into the breach with heart admirably willing, if with
limbs still lame. Then there is old Field-marshal Lehwald [Anti-
Russian at Gross Jagersdorf, but dismissed as too old], who is
official Governor of Berlin, who succeeded poor Keith in that
honorable office: all these were strong for defence;--and do not
now grudge, great men as they are, to take each his Gate of Berlin,
his small redoubt thrown up there, and pass the night and the day
in doing his utmost with it.

"Rochow refuses the surrender, and the Four Millions pure specie;
and Tottleben, about 3 P.M. in an intermittent way, and about 5 in
a constant, begins bombarding--grenadoes, red-hot balls, what he
can;--and continues the s&me till 3 next morning. Without result to
speak of; Seidlitz and Consorts making good counter-play; the poor
old 1,200 of Garrison growing almost young again with energy, under
their Seidlitzes; and the population zealously co-operating,
especially quenching all fires that rose. What greatly contributed
withal was the arrival of Prince Eugen overnight. Eugen of
Wurtemberg [cadet of that bad Duke] had been engaged driving home
the Swedes, but instantly quitted that with a 5,000 he had; and has
marched this day,--his Vanguard has, mostly Horse, whom the Foot
will follow to-morrow,--a distance of forty miles, on this fine
errand. Delicate manoeuvring, by these wearied horsemen, to enter
Berlin amid uncertain jostlings, under the shine of Russian
bombardment; ecstatic welcome to them, when they did get in,--
instant subscription for fat oxen to them; a just abundance of beef
to them, of generous beer I hope not more than an abundance:
phenomena which, with others of the like, could be dwelt on, had
we room. [Tempelhof, iv. 266-290; Archenholtz, ii. 122-148;
Helden-Geschichte, vi. 103-149, 350-352;
&c. &c.]'

"Tottleben, under these omens, found it would not do; wended off
towards his Czernichef next morning; eastward again as far as
Copenik, Prince Eugen attending him in a minatory manner: and, in
Berlin for the moment, the bad ten hours were over. For four days
more, the fate of things hung dubious; hope soon fading again, but
not quite going out till the fifth day. And this, in fact, was
mainly all of bombardment that the City had to suffer; though its
fate of capture was not to be averted. Is not Tottleben gone?
Yes; but Lacy, marching at a rate he never did before (except from
Bischofswerda), is arrived in the environs this same evening,
cautious but furious. The King is far away; what are Eugen's 5,000
against these?

"On the other hand, Hulsen, leaving his Saxon affairs to their
chance,--which, alas, are about extinct, at any rate;
except Wittenberg, all Saxony gone from us!--Hulsen is on winged
march hitherward with about 9,000. 'How would the King come on
wings, like an eagle from the Blue, if he were but aware!' thought
everybody, and said. Hulsen did arrive on the 8th; so that there
are now 14,000 of us. Hulsen did;--but no King could; the King is
just starting (October 4th, the King, on these bad rumors about
Saxony, about Berlin, quitted the attempt on Daun; October 7th, got
on march hitherward; has finished his first march hitherward,--Daun
gradually preparing to attend him in the distance),--when Hulsen
arrives. And here are all their Lacys, Czernichefs fairly
assembled; five to two of us,--35,000 of them against our 14,000.

"Hulsen and Eugen, drawn out in their skilfulest way, manoeuvred
about, all this Wednesday, 8th; attempted, did not attempt;
found on candid examination, That 14,000 VERSUS 35,000 ran a great
risk of being worsted; that, in such case, the fate of the City
might be still more frightful; and that, on the whole, their one
course was that of withdrawing to Spandau, and leaving poor Berlin
to capitulate as it could. Capitulation starts again with Tottleben
that same night; Gotzkowsky, a magnanimous Citizen and Merchant-
Prince, stepping forth with beautiful courageous furtherances of
every kind; and it ends better than one could have hoped: Ransom--
not of Four Millions pure specie (which would have been 600,000
pounds): 'Gracious Sir, it is beyond our utmost possibility!'--but
of One and a Half Million in modern Ephraim coin; with a 30,000
pounds of douceur-money to the common man, Russian and Austrian,
for his forbearance;--'for the rest, we are at your Excellency's
mercy, in a manner!' And so,

"THURSDAY, OCTOBER 9th, about 7 in the morning, Tottleben marches
in; exactly six days since he first came circling to the Halle Gate
and began bombarding. Tottleben, knowing Friedrich, knew the value
of despatch; and, they say, was privately no enemy to Berlin,
remembering old grateful days here. For Tottleben has himself been
in difficulties; indeed, was never long out of them, during the
long stormy life he had. Not a Russian at all; though I suppose
Father of the now Russian Tottlebens whom one hears of: this one
was a poor Saxon Gentleman, Page once to poor old drunken
Weissenfels, whom, for a certain fair soul's sake, we sigh to
remember! Weissenfels dying, Tottleben became a soldier of Polish
Majesty's;--acceptable soldier, but disagreed with Bruhl, for which
nobody will like him worse. Disagreed with Bruhl; went into the
Dutch service (may have been in Fontenoy for what I know);
was there till Aix-la-Chapelle, till after Aix-la-Chapelle;
kindly treated, and promoted in the Dutch Army; but with outlooks,
I can fancy, rather dull. Outlooks probably dull in such an
element,--when, being a handsome fellow in epaulettes (Major-
General, in fact, though poor), he, diligently endeavoring, caught
the eye of a Dutch West-Indian Heiress; soft creature with no end
of money; whom he privately wedded, and ran away with. To the
horror of her appointed Dutch Lover and Friends; who prosecuted the
poor Major-General with the utmost rigor, not of Law only. And were
like to be the ruin of his fair West-Indian and him;
when Friedrich, about 1754 as I guess, gave him shelter in Berlin;
finding no insupportable objection in what the man had done.
The rather, as his Heiress and he were rich. Tottleben gained
general favor in Berlin society; wished, in 1756, to take service
with Friedrich on the breaking out of this War. 'A Colonel with me,
yes,' said Friedrich. But Tottleben had been Major-General among
the Dutch, and could not consent to sink; had to go among the
Russians for a Major-Generalcy; and there and elsewhere, for many
years coming, had many adventures, mostly troublesome, which shall
not be memorable to us here. [Sketch of Tottleben's Life; in
RODENBECK, ii. 69-72.]

"Lacy, who, after hovering about in these vicinities for four days,
had now actually come up, so soon as Eugen and Hulsen withdrew,--
was deeply disgusted at the Terms of Capitulation; angry to find
that Tottleben had concluded without him; and, in fact, flew into
open rage at the arrangements Tottleben had made for himself and
for others. 'No admittance, except on order from his Excellency!'
said the Russian Sentry to Lacy's Austrians: upon which, Lacy
forced the Gate, and violently marched in. Took lodging, to his own
mind, in the Friedrichstadt quarter; and was fearfully truculent
upon person and property, during his short stay. A scandal to be
seen, how his Croats and loose hordes went openly ravening about,
bent on mere housebreaking, street-robbery and insolent violence.
So that Tottleben had fairly to fire upon the vagabonds once or
twice; and force on the unwilling Lacy some coercion of them within
limits. For the three days of his continuance,--it was but three
days in all,--Lacy was as the evil genius of Berlin; Tottleben and
his Russians the good. Their discipline was so excellent;
all Cossacks and loose rabble strictly kept out beyond the Walls.
To Bachmann, Russian Commandant, the Berliners, on his departure,
had gratefully got ready a money-gift of handsome amount: 'By no
means,' answered Bachmann: 'your treatment was according to the
mildness of our Sovereign Czarina. For myself, if I have served you
in anything, the fact that for three days I have been Commandant of
the Great Friedrich's Capital is more than a reward to me.'

"Tottleben and Lacy, during those three days of Russian and
Austrian joint dominion, had a stormy time of it together.
'Destroy the LAGER-HAUS,' said Lacy: Lager-Haus, where they
manufacture their soldiers' uniforms; it is the parent of all
cloth-manufacturing in Prussia; set up by Friedrich Wilhelm,--not
on free-trade principles. 'The Lager-Haus, say you? I doubt, it is
now private property; screened by our Capitulation;'--which it
proves to be. 'You shall blow up the Arsenal!' said Lacy, with
vehemence and truculence. A noble edifice, as travellers yet know:
fancy its fragments flying about among the populous streets,
plunging through the roofs of Palaces, and great houses all round.
Lacy was inexorable; Tottleben had to send a Russian Party (one
wishes they had been Croats) on this sad errand. They proceeded to
the Powder-Magazine for explosive material, as preliminary;
they were rash in handling the gunpowder there, which blew up in
their hands; sent itself and all of them into the air; and saved
the poor Arsenal: 'Not powder enough now left for our own artillery
uses,' urged Tottleben.

"Saxon and Austrian Parties were in the Palaces about,--at Potsdam,
at Charlottenburg, Schonhausen (the Queen's), at Friedrichsfeld
(the Margraf Karl's), some of whom behaved well, some horribly ill.
In Charlottenburg, certain Saxon Bruhl-Dragoons, who by their
conduct might have been Dragoons of Attila, smashed the furnitures,
the doors, cutting the Pictures, much maltreating the poor people;
and, what was reckoned still more tragical, overset the poor
Polignac Collection of Antiques and Classicalities; not only
knocking off noses and arms, but beating them small, lest
reparation by cement should be possible. Their Officers, Pirna
people, looking quietly on. A scandalous proceeding, thought
everybody, friend or foe,--especially thought Friedrich;
whose indignation at this ruin of Charlottenburg came out in way of
reprisal by and by. At Potsdam, on the other hand, Prince
Esterhazy, with perhaps Hungarians among his people, behaved like a
very Prince; received from the Castellan an Attestation that he had
scrupulously respected everything; and took, as souvenir, only one
Picture of little value; Prince de Ligne, who was under him,
carrying off, still more daintily, one goose-quill, immortal by
having been a pen of the Great Friedrich's.

"Tottleben, with no feeling other than Official tempered by Human,
was in great contrast with Lacy, and very beneficent to Berlin
during the three days it lay under the TRIBULA, or harrow of War.
But the Tutelary Angel of Berlin, then and afterwards for weeks
and months, till all scores got settled, was the Gotzkowsky
mentioned above." Whom we shall see again helpful at Leipzig;
a man worth marking in these tumults. "If Tottleben was the
temporal Armed King, this Gotzkowsky was the Spiritual King, PAPA
or Universal Father, armed only with charities, pieties, prayers,
ever shiningly attended by self-sacrifices on Gotzkowsky's part;
which averted woes innumerable (Lager-Haus only one of a long
list); and which 'surpassed all belief,' write the Berlin
Magistracy, as if in tears over such heroism. Truly a Prince of
Merchants, this Gotzkowsky, not for his vast enterprises, and the
mere 1,500 workmen he employs, but for the still greater heart that
dwells in him. Had begun as a travelling Pedler; used to call at
Reinsberg, with female haberdasheries exquisitely chosen
('GALLANTERIE wares' the Germans call them), for the then Princess
Royal; not unnoticed by Friedrich, who recognized the broad sense,
solidity and great thoughts of the man. Of all which Friedrich has
known far more since then, in various branches of Prussian commerce
improved by Gotzkowsky's managements. A truly notable Gotzkowsky;
became bankrupt at last, one is sorry to hear; and died in
affliction and neglect,--short of the humblest wages for so much
good work done in the world! [Preuss, ii. 257, &c. &c.;
Gotzkowsky himself).]

"Gotzkowsky's House was like a general storeroom for everybody's
preciosities; his time, means, self were the refuge of all the
needy. In Zorndorf time, when this Czernichef [if readers can
remember], who is now so supreme,--Czernichef, Soltikof and
others,--had nothing for it but to lodge in the cellars of burnt
Custrin, Gotzkowsky, with ready money, with advice, with
assuagement, had been their DEUS EX MACHINA: and now Czernichef
remembers it; and Gotzkowsky, as Papa, has to go with continual
prayers, negotiations, counsellings, expedients, and be the refuge
of all unjustly suffering men Berlin has immensities of trade in
war-furnitures: the capitals circulating are astonishing to
Archenholtz; million on the back of million; no such city in
Germany for trade. The desire of the Three-days Lacy Government is
towards any Lager-Haus; any mass of wealth, which can be construed
as Royal or connected with Royalty. Ephraim and Itzig, mint-
masters of that copper-coinage; rolling in foul wealth by the ruin
of their neighbors; ought not these to bleed? Well, yes,--if
anybody; and copiously if you like! I should have said so: but the
generous Gotzkowsky said in his heart, 'No;' and again pleaded and
prevailed. Ephraim and Itzig, foul swollen creatures, were not
broached at all; and their gratitude was, That, at a future day,
Gotzkowsky's day of bankruptcy, they were hardest of any
on Gotzkowsky.

"Archenholtz and the Books are enthusiastically copious upon
Gotzkowsky and his procedures; but we must be silent. This Anecdote
only, in regard to Freedom of the Press,--to the so-called 'air we
breathe, not having which we die!' Would modern Friends of Progress
believe it? Because, in former stages of this War, the Berlin
Newspapers have had offensive expressions (scarcely noticeable to
the microscope in our day, and below calculation for smallness)
upon the Russian and Austrian Sovereigns or Peoples,--the Able
Editors (there are only Two) shall now in person, here in the
market-place of Berlin, actually run the gantlet for it,--'run the
rods (GASSEN-LAUFEN'), as the fashion now is; which is worse than
GANTLET, not to speak of the ignominy. That is the barbaric Russian
notion: 'who are you, ill-formed insolent persons, that give a
loose to your tongue in that manner? Strip to the waistband, swift!
Here is the true career opened for you: on each hand, one hundred
sharp rods ranked waiting you; run your courses there,--no hurry
more than you like!' The alternative of death, I suppose, was open
to these Editors; Roman death at least, and martyrdom for a new
Faith (Faith in the Loose Tongue), very sacred to the Democratic
Ages now at hand. But nobody seems to have thought of it;
Editors and Public took the thing as a 'sorrow incident to this
dangerous Profession of the Tongue Loose (or looser than usual);
which nobody yet knew to be divine. The Editors made passionate
enough lamentation, in the stript state; one of then, with loud
weeping, pulled off his wig, showed ice-gray hair; 'I am in my 68th
year!' But it seems nothing would have steaded them, had not
Gotzkowsky been busy interceding. By virtue of whom there was
pardon privately in readiness: to the ice-gray Editor complete
pardon; to the junior quasi-complete; only a few switches to assert
the principle, and dismissal with admonition." [ Helden-
Geschichte, vi. 103-148; Rodenbeck, ii. 41-54; Archenholtz, ii.
130-147; Preuss, UBI SUPRA: &c. &c.]

The pleasant part of the fact is, that Gotzkowsky's powerful
intercessions were thenceforth no farther needed. The same day,
Saturday, October 11th, a few hours after this of the GASSEN-
LAUFEN, news arrived full gallop: "The King is coming!" After which
it was beautiful to see how all things got to the gallop; and in a
no-time Berlin was itself again. That same evening, Saturday, Lacy
took the road, with extraordinary velocity, towards Torgau Country,
where the Reichsfolk, in Hulsen's absence, are supreme; and, the
second evening after, was got 60 miles thitherward. His joint
dominion had been of Two days. On the morning of Sunday, 12th, went
Tottleben, who had businesses, settlements of ransom and the like,
before marching. Tottleben, too, made uncommon despatch;
marched, as did all these invasive Russians, at the rate of thirty
miles a day; their Main Army likewise moving off from Frankfurt to
a safer distance. Friedrich was still five marches off; but there
seemed not a moment to lose.

The Russian spoilings during the retreat were more horrible than
ever: "The gallows gaping for us; and only this one opportunity, if
even this!" thought the agitated Cossack to himself. Our poor
friend Nissler had a sad tale to tell of them; [In Busching,
Beitrage, i. 400, 401, account of their
sacking of Nussler's pleasant home and estate, "Weissensee, near
Berlin."] as who had not? Terror and murder, incendiary fire and
other worse unnamable abominations of the Pit. One old Half-pay
gentleman, whom I somewhat respect, desperately barricaded himself,
amid his domestics and tenantries, Wife and Daughters assisting:
"Human Russian Officers can enter here; Cossacks no, but shall kill
us first. Not a Cossack till all of us are lying dead!"
[Archenholtz, ii. 150.] And kept his word; the human Russians
owning it to be proper.

In Guben Country, "at Gross-Muckro, October 15th," the day after
passing Guben, Friedrich first heard for certain, That the Russians
had been in Berlin, and also that they were gone, and that all was
over. He made two marches farther,--not now direct for Berlin, but
direct for Saxony AND it;--to Lubben, 50 or 60 miles straight south
of Berlin; and halted there some days, to adjust himself for a new
sequel. "These are the things," exclaims he, sorrowfully, to
D'Argens, "which I have been in dread of since Winter last; this is
what gave the dismal tone to my Letters to you. It has required not
less than all my philosophy to endure the reverses, the
provocations, the outrages, and the whole scene of atrocious things
that have come to pass." [ OEuvres de Frederic, italic> xix. 199; "22d October."] Friedrich's grief about Berlin we
need not paint; though there were murmurs afterwards, "Why did not
he start sooner?" which he could not, in strict reason, though
aware that these savageries were on march. He had hoped the Eugen-
Hulsen appliances, even should all else fail, might keep them at
bay. And indeed, in regard to these latter, it turned only on a
hair. Montalembert calculating, vows, on his oath, "Can assure you,
DIEU, as if I stood before God," [Montalembert, ii. 108.] that,
from first to last, it was my doing; that but for me, at the very
last, the Russians, on sight of Hulsen and Eugen, and no Lacy come,
would have marched away!

Friedrich's orderings and adjustings, dated Lubben, where his Army
rested after this news from Berlin, were manifold; and a good deal
still of wrecks from the Berlin Business fell to his share.
For instance, one thing he had at once ordered: "Your Bill of a
Million-and-half to the Russians, don't pay it, or any part of it!
When Bamberg was ransomed, Spring gone a year,--Reich and Kaiser,
did they respect our Bill we had on Bamberg? Did not they cancel
it, and flatly refuse?" Friedrich is positive on the point,
"Reprisal our clear remedy!" But Berlin itself was in alarm, for
perhaps another Russian visit; Berlin and Gotzkowsky were humbly
positive the other way. Upon which a visit of Gotskowsky to the
Royal Camp: "Merchants' Bills are a sacred thing, your Majesty!"
urged Gotzkowsky. Who, in his zeal for the matter, undertook
dangerous visits to the Russian Quarters, and a great deal of
trouble, peril and expense, during the weeks following.
Magnanimous Gotzkowsky, "in mere bribes to the Russian Officials,
spent about 6,000 pounds of his own," for one item. But he had at
length convinced his Majesty that Merchants' Bills were a sacred
thing, in spite of Bamberg and desecrative individualities;
and that this Million-and-half must be paid. Friedrich was struck
with Gotzkowsky and his view of the facts. Friedrich, from his own
distressed funds, handed to Gotzkowsky the necessary Million-and-
half, commanding only profound silence about it; and to Gotzkowsky
himself a present of 150,000 thalers (20,000 pounds odd);
[Archenholtz, ii. 146.] and so the matter did at last end.

It had been a costly business to Berlin, and to the King, and to
the poor harried Country. To Berlin, bombardment of ten hours;
alarm of discursive siege-work in the environs for five days;
foreign yoke for three days; lost money to the amounts above
stated; what loss in wounds to body or to peace of mind, or whether
any loss that way, nobody has counted. The Berlin people rose to a
more than Roman height of temper, testifies D'Argens; [
OEuvres de Frederic, xix. 195-199: "D'Argens to the
King: Berlin, 19th October, 1760,"--an interesting Letter of
details.] so that perhaps it was a gain. The King's Magazines and
War-furnitures about Berlin are wasted utterly,--Arsenal itself not
blown up, we well know why;--and much Hunnish ruin in
Charlottenburg, with damage to Antiques,--for which latter clause
there shall, in a few months, be reprisal: if it please the Powers!

Of all this Montalembert declares, "Before God, that he,
Montalembert, is and was the mainspring." And indeed, Tempelhof,
without censure of Montalembert and his vocation, but accurately
computing time and circumstance, comes to the same conclusion;--as
thus: "OCTOBER 8th, seeing no Lacy come, Czernichef, had it not
been for Montalembert's eloquence, had fixed for returning to
Copenik: whom cautious Lacy would have been obliged to imitate.
Suppose Czernichef had, OCTOBER 9th, got to Copenik,--Eugen and
Hulsen remain at Berlin; Czernichef could not have got back thither
before the 11th; on the 11th was news of Friedrich's coming; which
set all on gallop to the right about." [Tempelhof, iv. 277.]
So that really, before God, it seems Montalembert must have the
merit of this fine achievement:--the one fruit, so far as I can
discover, of his really excellent reasonings, eloquences,
patiences, sown broadcast, four or five long years, on such a field
as fine human talent never had before. I declare to you,
M. l'Ambassadeur, this excellent vulture-swoop on Berlin, and
burning or reburning of the Peasantry of the Mark, is due solely to
one poor zealous gentleman!--

What was next to follow out of THIS,--in Torgau neighborhood, where
Daun now stands expectant,--poor M. de Montalembert was far from
anticipating; and will be in no haste to claim the merit of before
God or man.

Chapter V.


After Hulsen's fine explosion on the Durrenberg, August 20th, on
the incompetent Reichs Generals, there had followed nothing
eminent; new futilities, attemptings and desistings, advancings and
recoilings, on the part of the Reich; Hulsen solidly maintaining
himself, in defence of his Torgau Magazine and Saxon interests in
those regions, against such overwhelming odds, till relief and
reinforcement for them and him should arrive; and gaining time,
which was all he could aim at in such circumstances. Had the Torgau
Magazine been bigger, perhaps Hulsen might have sat there to the
end. But having solidly eaten out said Magazine, what could Hulsen
do but again move rearward? [ Hogbericht von dem Ruckzug
des General-Lieutenants von Hulsen aus dem Lager bey Torgau
(in Seyfarth, Beylagen, ii.
755-784).] Above all, on the alarm from Berlin, which called him
off double-quick, things had to go their old road in that quarter.
Weak Torgau was taken, weak Wittenberg besieged. Leipzig, Torgau,
Wittenberg, all that Country, by the time the Russians left Berlin,
was again the Reich's. Eugen and Hulsen, hastening for relief of
Wittenberg, the instant Berlin was free, found Wittenberg a heap of
ruins, out of which the Prussian garrison, very hunger urging, had
issued the day before, as prisoners of war. Nothing more to be done
by Eugen, but take post, within reach of Magdeburg and victual, and
wait new Order from the King.

The King is very unquestionably coming on; leaves Lubben
thitherward October 20th. [Rodenbeck, ii. 35: in Anonymous
of Hamburg (iv. 241-245) Friedrich's Two Marches,
towards and from Berlin (7th-17th October, to Lubben; thence, 20th
October-3d November, to Torgau).] With full fixity of purpose as
usual; but with as gloomy an outlook as ever before. Daun, we said,
is now arrived in those parts: Daun and the Reich together are near
100,000; Daun some 60,000,--Loudon having stayed behind, and gone
southward, for a stroke on Kosel (if Goltz will permit, which he
won't at all!),--and the Reich 35,000. Saxony is all theirs;
cannot they maintain Saxony? Not a Town or a Magazine now belongs
to Friedrich there, and he is in number as 1 to 2.
"Maintain Saxony; indisputably you can!" that is the express Vienna
Order, as Friedrich happens to know. The Russians themselves have
taken Camp again, and wait visibly, about Landsberg and the Warta
Country, till they see Daun certain of executing said Order;
upon which they intend, they also, to winter in those Elbe-Prussian
parts, and conjointly to crush Friedrich into great confinement
indeed. Friedrich is aware of this Vienna Order; which is a kind of
comfort in the circumstances. The intentions of the hungry
Russians, too, are legible to Friedrich; and he is much resolved
that said Order shall be impossible to Daun. "Were it to be
possible, we are landless. Where are our recruits, our magazines,
our resources for a new Campaign? We may as well die, as suffer
that to be possible!" Such is Friedrich's fixed view. He says to

"You, as a follower of Epicurus, put a value on life; as for me, I
regard death from the Stoic point of view. Never shall I see the
moment that forces me to make a disadvantageous Peace;
no persuasion, no eloquence, shall ever induce me to sign my
dishonor. Either I will bury myself under the ruins of my Country,
or if that consolation appears too sweet to the Destiny that
persecutes me, I shall know how to put an end to my misfortunes
when it is impossible to bear them any longer. I have acted, and
continue to act, according to that interior voice of conscience and
of honor which directs all my steps: my conduct shall be, in every
time, conformable to those principles. After having sacrificed my
youth to my Father, my ripe years to my Country, I think I have
acquired the right to dispose of my old age. I have told you, and I
repeat it, Never shall my hand sign a humiliating Peace.
Finish this Campaign I certainly will, resolved to dare all, and to
try the most desperate things either to succeed or to find a
glorious end (FIN GLORIEUSE)." [ OEuvres de Frederic, italic> xix. 202 ("Kemberg, 28th October, 1760," a week and a day
before Torgau).]

Friedrich had marched from Lubben, after three days, settling of
affairs, OCTOBER 20th; arrived at Jessen, on the Elbe, within wind
of Wittenberg, in two days more. "He formed a small magazine at
Duben," says Archenholtz; "and was of a velocity, a sharpness,"--
like lightning, in a manner! Friedrich is uncommonly dangerous when
crushed into a corner, in this way; and Daun knows that he is.
Friedrich's manoeuvrings upon Daun--all readers can anticipate the
general type of them. The studious military reader, if England
boasts any such, will find punctual detail of them in TEMPELHOF and
the German Books. For our poor objects, here is a Summary which
may suffice:--

From Lubben, having winded up these bad businesses,--and reinforced
Goltz, at Glogau, to a 20,000 for Silesia's sake, to look towards
Kosel and Loudon's attempts there,--Friedrich gathered himself into
proper concentration; and with all the strength now left to him
pushed forward (20th October) towards Wittenberg, and recovery of
those lost Saxon Countries. To Wittenberg from Lubben is some 60
miles;--can be done, nearly, in a couple of days. With the King,
after Goltz is furnished, there are about 30,000; Eugen and Hulsen,
not idle for their own part, wait in those far Western or Ultra-
Wittenberg regions (in and beyond Dessau Country), to join him with
their 14,000, when they get signal. Joined with these, he will be
44,000; he will then cross Elbe somewhere, probably not where Daun
and the Reich imagine, and be in contact with his Problem;
with what a pitch of willingness nobody need be told! Daun, in
Torgau Country, has one of the best positions; nor is Daun a man
for getting flurried.

The poor Reichs Army, though it once flattered itself with
intending to dispute Friedrich's passage of the Elbe, and did make
some detachings and manoeuvrings that way, on his approach to
Wittenberg (October 22d-23d),--took a safer view, on his actual
arrival there, on his re-seizure of that ruined place, and
dangerous attitude on the right bank below and above. Safer view,
on salutary second thoughts;--and fell back Leipzig-way, southward
to Duben, 30 or 40 miles. Whence rapidly to Leipzig itself, 30 or
40 more, on his actually putting down his bridges over Elbe.
Friedrich's crossing-place was Schanzhaus, in Dessau Country,
between Roslau and Klikau, 12 or 15 miles below Wittenberg;
about midway between Wittenberg and the inflow of the Mulda into
Elbe. He crossed OCTOBER 26th, no enemy within wind at all; Daun at
Torgau in his inexpugnable Camp, Reichsfolk at Duben, making
towards Leipzig at their best pace. And is now wholly between Elbe
and Mulda; nothing but Mulda and the Anhall Countries and the Halle
Country now to rear of him.

At Jonitz, next march southward, he finds the Eugen-Hulsen people
ready. We said they had not been idle while waiting signal:
of which here is one pretty instance. Eugen's Brother, supreme
Reigning Duke of Wurtemberg,--whom we parted with at Fulda, last
Winter, on sore terms; but who again, zealous creature, heads his
own little Army in French-Austrian service, in still more eclipsed
circumstances ("No subsidy at all, this Year, say your august
Majesties? Well, I must do without: a volunteer; and shall need
only what I can make by forced contributions!" which of course he
is diligent to levy wherever possible),--has latterly taken Halle
Country in hand, very busy raising contributions there: and Eugen
hears, not without interest, that certain regiments or detachments
of his, pushed out, are lying here, there, superintending that
salutary work,--within clutch, perhaps, of Kleist the Hussar!
Eugen despatches Kleist upon him; who pounces with his usual fierce
felicity upon these people. To such alarm of his poor Serenity and
poor Army, that Serenity flies off homeward at once, and out of
these Wars altogether; where he never had other than the reverse of
business to be, and where he has played such a farce-tragedy for
four years back. Eugen has been heard to speak,--theoretically, and
in excited moments,--of "running such a fellow through the body,
were one near him:: but it is actually Eugen in person that sends
him home from these Wars: which may be counted a not unfraternal or
unpatriotic procedure; being of indisputable benefit to the poor
Sovereign man himself, and to everybody concerned with him.

Hearing that Friedrich was across, Daun came westward that same day
(October 26th), and planted himself at Eilenburg; concluding that
the Reichsfolk would now be in jeopardy first of all. Which was
partly the fact; and indeed this Daun movement rather accelerated
the completion of it. Without this the Reichs Army might have lived
another day. It had quitted Duben, and gone in all haste for
Leipzig, at 1 in the morning (not by Eilenburg, of which or of
Daun's arrival there it knows nothing),--"at 1 in the morning of
the 27th," or in fact, so soon as news could reach it at the
gallop, That Friedrich was across. And now Friedrich, seeing Daun
out in this manner, judged that a junction was contemplated;
and that one could not be too swift in preventing it. October 29th,
with one diligent march, Friedrich posted himself at Duben;
there, in a sort now between Daun and the Reichsfolk, detached
Hulsen with a considerable force to visit these latter in Leipzig
itself; and began with all diligence forming "a small Magazine in
Duben," Magdeburg and the current of the Elbe being hitherto his
only resource in that kind. By the time of Hulsen's return, this
little operation will be well forward, and Daun will have declared
himself a little.

Hulsen, evening of October 30th, found Leipzig in considerable
emotion, the Reichsfolk taking refuge in it: not the least inclined
to stand a push, when Hulsen presented himself. Night of 30th-31st,
there was summoning and menacing; Reich endeavoring to answer in
firm style; but all the while industriously packing up to go. By 5
in the morning, things had come to extremity;---morning, happily
for some of us, was dark mist. But about 5 o'clock, Hulsen (or
Hulsen's Second) coming on with menace of fire and sword upon these
poor Reichspeople, found the Reichspeople wholly vanished in the
mist. Gone bodily; in full march for the spurs of the Metal-
Mountain Range again;--concluding, for the fourth time, an
extremely contemptible Campaign. Daun, with the King ahead of him,
made not the least attempt to help them in their Leipzig
difficulty; but retired to his strong Camp at Torgau; feels his
work to lie THERE,--as Friedrich perceives of him, with
some interest.

Hulsen left a little garrison in Leipzig (friend Quintus a part of
it); [Tempelhof, iv. 290.] and returned to the King; whose small
Magazine at Duben, and other small affairs there,--Magdeburg with
boats, and the King with wagons, having been so diligent in
carrying grain thither,--are now about completed. From Daun's
returning to Torgau, Friedrich infers that the cautious man has got
Order from Court to maintain Torgau at all costs,--to risk a battle
rather than go. "Good: he shall have one!" thinks Friedrich.
And, NOVEMBER 2d, in four columns, marches towards Torgau;
to Schilda, that night, which is some seven miles on the southward
side of Torgau. The King, himself in the vanguard as usual, has
watched with eager questioning eye the courses of Daun's advanced
parties, and by what routes they retreat; discerns for certain that
Daun has no views upon Duben or our little Magazine; and that the
tug of wrestle for Torgau, which is to crown this Campaign into
conquest of Saxony, or shatter it into zero like its foregoers on
the Austrian part, and will be of death-or-life nature on the
Prussian part, ought to ensue to-morrow. Forward, then!

This Camp of Torgau is not a new place to Daun. It was Prince
Henri's Camp last Autumn; where Daun tried all his efforts to no
purpose; and though hugely outnumbering the Prince, could make
absolutely nothing of it. Nothing, or less; and was flowing back to
Dresden and the Bohemian Frontier, uncheered by anything, till that
comfortable Maxen Incident turned up. Daun well knows the strength
of this position. Torgau and the Block of Hill to West, called Hill
of Siptitz:--Hulsen, too, stood here this Summer; not to mention
Finck and Wunsch, and their beating the Reichspeople here. A Hill
and Post of great strength; not unfamiliar to many Prussians, nor
to Friedrich's studious considerations, though his knowledge of it
was not personal on all points;--as To-morrow taught him, somewhat
to his cost.

"Tourists, from Weimar and the Thuringian Countries," says a Note-
book, sometimes useful to us, "have most likely omitted Rossbach in
their screaming railway flight eastward; and done little in Leipzig
but endeavor to eat dinner, and, still more vainly, to snatch a
little sleep in the inhuman dormitories of the Country.
Next morning, screaming Dresden-ward, they might, especially if
military, pause at Oschatz, a stage or two before Meissen, where
again are objects of interest. You can look at Hubertsburg, if
given that way,--a Royal Schloss, memorable on several grounds;--at
Hubertsburg, and at other features, in the neighborhood of Oschatz.
This done, or this left not done, you strike off leftward, that is
northward, in some open vehicle, for survey of Torgau and its
vicinities and environs. Not above fifteen miles for you; a drive
singular and pleasant; time enough to return and be in Dresden
for dinner.

"Torgau is a fine solid old Town; Prussian military now abundant in
it. In ancient Heathen times, I suppose, it meant the GAU, or
District, of THOR; Capital of that Gau,--part of which, now under
Christian or quasi-Christian circumstances, you have just been
traversing, with Elbe on your right hand. Innocent rural aspects of
Humanity, Boor's life, Gentry's life, all the way, not in any
holiday equipment; on the contrary, somewhat unkempt and scraggy,
but all the more honest and inoffensive. There is sky, earth, air,
and freedom for your own reflections: a really agreeable kind of
Gau; pleasant, though in part ugly. Large tracts of it are pine-
wood, with pleasant Villages and fine arable expanses interspersed.
Schilda and many Villages you leave to right and left.
Old-fashioned Villages, with their village industries visible
around; laboring each in its kind,--not too fast; probably with
extinct tobacco-pipe hanging over its chin (KALT-RAUCHEND, 'smoking
COLD,' as they phrase it).

"Schilda has an absurd celebrity among the Germans: it is the
Gotham of Teutschland; a fountain of old broad-grins and homely and
hearty rustic banter; welling up from the serious extinct Ages to
our own day; 'SCHILTburger' (Inhabitant of SCHILDA) meaning still,
among all the Teutsch populations, a man of calmly obstinate whims
and delusions, of notions altogether contrary to fact, and
agreeable to himself only; resolutely pushing his way through life
on those terms: amid horse-laughter, naturally, and general wagging
of beards from surrounding mankind. Extinct mirth, not to be
growled at or despised, in Ages running to the shallow, which have
lost their mirth, and become all one snigger of mock-mirth. For it
is observable, the more solemn is your background of DARK, the
brighter is the play of all human genialities and coruscations on
it,--of genial mirth especially, in the hour for mirth. Who the
DOCTOR BORDEL of Schilda was, I do not know: but they have had
their Bordel, as Gotham had;--probably various Bordels;
industrious to pick up those Spiritual fruits of the earth. For the
records are still abundant and current; fully more alive than those
of Gotham here are.--And yonder, then, is actually Schilda of the
absurd fame. A small, cheerful-looking human Village, in its Island
among the Woods; you see it lying to the right:--a clean brick-
slate congeries, with faint smoke-canopy hanging over it,
indicating frugal dinner-kettles on the simmer;--and you remember
kindly those good old grinnings, over good SCHILTBURGER, good WISE
MEN OF GOTHAM, and their learned Chroniclers, and unlearned Peasant
Producers, who have contributed a wrinkle of human Fun to the
earnest face of Life.

"After Schilda, and before, you traverse long tracts of Pine
Forest, all under forest management; with long straight stretches
of sandy road (one of which is your own), straight like red tape-
strings, intersecting the wide solitudes: dangerous to your
topographies,--for the finger-posts are not always there, and human
advice you can get none. Nothing but the stripe of blue sky
overhead, and the brown one of tape (or sand) under your feet:
the trees poor and mean for most part, but so innumerable, and all
so silent, watching you all like mute witnesses, mutely whispering
together; no voice but their combined whisper or big forest SOUGH
audible to you in the world:--on the whole, your solitary ride
there proves, unexpectedly, a singular deliverance from the mad
railway, and its iron bedlamisms and shrieking discords and
precipitances; and is soothing, and pensively welcome, though sad
enough, and in outward features ugly enough. No wild boars are now
in these woods, no chance of a wolf:"--what concerns us more is,
that Friedrich's columns, on the 3d of November, had to march up
through these long lanes, or tape-stripes of the Torgau Forest;
and that one important column, one or more, took the wrong turn at
some point, and was dangerously wanting at the expected moment!--

"Torgau itself stands near Elbe; on the shoulder, eastern or Elbe-
ward shoulder, of a big mass of Knoll, or broad Height, called of
Siptitz, the main Eminence of the Gau. Shoulder, I called it, of
this Height of Siptitz; but more properly it is on a continuation,
or lower ulterior height dipping into Elbe itself, that Torgau
stands. Siptitz Height, nearly a mile from Elbe, drops down into a
straggle of ponds; after which, on a second or final rise, comes
Torgau dipping into Elbe. Not a shoulder strictly, but rather a
CHEEK, with NECK intervening;--neck GOITRY for that matter, or
quaggy with ponds! The old Town stands high enough, but is enlaced
on the western and southern side by a set of lakes and quagmires,
some of which are still extensive and undrained. The course of the
waters hereabouts; and of Elbe itself, has had its intricacies:
close to northwest, Torgau is bordered, in a straggling way, by
what they call OLD ELBE; which is not now a fluent entity, but a
stagnant congeries of dirty waters and morasses. The Hill of
Siptitz abuts in that aqueous or quaggy manner; its forefeet being,
as it were, at or in Elbe River, and its sides, to the South and to
the North for some distance each way, considerably enveloped in
ponds and boggy difficulties.

"Plenty of water all about, but I suppose mostly of bad quality;
at least Torgau has declined drinking it, and been at the trouble
to lay a pipe, or ROHRGRABEN, several miles long, to bring its
culinary water from the western neighborhoods of Siptitz Height.
Along the southern side of Siptitz Height goes leisurely an
uncomfortable kind of Brook, called the 'ROHRGRABEN (Pipe-Ditch);'
the meaning of which unexpected name you find to be, That there is
a SERVICE-PIPE laid cunningly at the bottom of this Brook;
lifting the Brook at its pure upper springs, and sending it along,
in secret tubular quasi-bottled condition; leaving the fouler
drippings from the neighborhood to make what 'brook' they still
can, over its head, and keep it out of harm's way till Torgau get
it. This is called the ROHRGRABEN, this which comes running through
Siptitz Village, all along by the southern base of Siptitz Hill;
to the idle eye, a dirtyish Brook, ending in certain notable Ponds
eastward: but to the eye of the inquiring mind, which has pierced
deeper, a Tube of rational Water, running into the throats of
Torgau, while the so-called Brook disembogues at discretion into
the ENTEFANG (Duck-trap), and what Ponds or reedy Puddles there
are,"--of which, in poor Wunsch's fine bit of fighting, last Year,
we heard mention. Let readers keep mind of them.

The Hill Siptitz, with this ROHRGRABEN at the southern basis of it,
makes a very main figure in the Battle now imminent. Siptitz Height
is, in fact, Daun's Camp; where he stands intrenched to the utmost,
repeatedly changing his position, the better to sustain Friedrich's
expected attacks. It is a blunt broad-backed Elevation, mostly in
vineyard, perhaps on the average 200 feet above the general level,
and of five or six square miles in area: length, east to west, from
Grosswig neighborhood to the environs of Torgau, may be about three
miles; breadth, south to north, from the Siptitz to the Zinna
neighborhoods, above half that distance. The Height is steepish on
the southern side, all along to the southwest angle (which was
Daun's left flank in the great Action coming), but swells up with
easier ascent on the west, earth and other sides. Let the reader
try for some conception of its environment and it, as the floor or
arena of a great transaction this day.

Daun stands fronting southward along these Siptitz Heights, looking
towards Schilda and his dangerous neighbor; heights, woods, ponds
and inaccessibilities environing his Position and him. One of the
strongest positions imaginable; which, under Prince Henri, proved
inexpugnable enough to some of us. A position not to be attacked on
that southern front, nor on either of its flanks:--where can it be
attacked? Impregnable, under Prince Henri in far inferior force:
how will you take it from Daun in decidedly superior? A position
not to be attacked at all, most military men would say;--though One
military man, in his extreme necessity, must and will find a way
into it.

One fault, the unique military man, intensely pondering, discovers
that it has: it is too small for Daun; not area enough for
manoeuvring 65,000 men in it; who will get into confusion if
properly dealt with. A most comfortable light-flash, the EUREKA of
this terrible problem. "We will attack it on rear and on front
simultaneously; that is the way to handle it!" Yes; simultaneously,
though that is difficult, say military judges; perhaps to Prussians
it may be possible. It is the opinion of military judges who have
studied the matter, that Friedrich's plan, could it have been
perfectly executed, might have got not only victory from Daun, but
was capable to fling his big Army and him pell-mell upon the Elbe
Bridge, that is to say, in such circumstances, into Elbe River, and
swallow him bodily at a frightful rate! That fate was spared
poor Daun.

MONDAY, 3d NOVEMBER, 1760, at half-past 6 in the morning Friedrich
is on march for this great enterprise. The march goes northward, in
Three Columns, with a Fourth of Baggage; through the woods, on four
different roads; roads, or combinations of those intricate sandy
avenues already noticed. Northward all of it at first; but at a
certain point ahead (at crossing of the Eilenburg-Torgau Road,
namely), the March is to divide itself in two. Half of the force is
to strike off rightward there with Ziethen, and to issue on the
south side of Siptitz Hill; other half, under Friedrich himself, to
continue northward, long miles farther, and then at last bending
round, issue--simultaneously with Ziethen, if possible--upon
Siptitz Hill from the north side. We are about 44,000 strong,
against Daun, who is 65,000.

Simultaneously with Ziethen, so far as humanly possible: that is
the essential point! Friedrich has taken every pains that it shall
be correct, in this and all points; and to take double assurance of
hiding it from Daun, he yesternight, in dictating his Orders on the
other heads of method, kept entirely to himself this most important
Ziethen portion of the Business. And now, at starting, he has taken
Ziethen in his carriage with him a few miles, to explain the thing
by word of mouth. At the Eilenburg road, or before it, Ziethen
thinks he is clear as to everything; dismounts; takes in hand the
mass intrusted to him; and strikes off by that rightward course:
"Rightward, Herr Ziethen; rightward till you get to Klitschen, your
first considerable island in this sea of wood; at Klitschen strike
to the left into the woods again,-- your road is called the Butter-
Strasse (BUTTER-STREET); goes by the northwest side of Siptitz
Height; reach Siptitz by the Butter-Street, and then do
your endeavor!"

With the other Half of his Army, specially with the First Column of
it, Friedrich proceeds northward on his own part of the adventure.
Three Columns he has, besides the Baggage one: in number about
equal to Ziethen's; if perhaps otherwise, rather the chosen Half;
about 8,000 grenadier and footguard people, with Kleist's Hussars,
are Friedrich's own Column. Friedrich's Column marches nearest the
Daun positions; the Baggage-column farthest; and that latter is to
halt, under escort, quite away to left or westward of the
disturbance coming; the other Two Columns, Hulsen's of foot,
Holstein's mostly of horse, go through intermediate tracks of wood,
by roads more or less parallel; and are all, Friedrich's own
Column, still more the others, to leave Siptitz several miles to
right, and to end, not AT Siptitz Height, but several miles past
it, and then wheeling round, begin business from the northward or
rearward side of Daun, while Ziethen attacks or menaces his front,
--simultaneously, if possible. Friedrich's march, hidden all by
woods, is more than twice as far as Ziethen's,--some 14 or 15 miles
in all; going straight northward 10 miles; thence bending eastward,
then southward through woods; to emerge about Neiden, there to
cross a Brook (Striebach), and strike home on the north side of
Daun. The track of march is in the shape somewhat of a shepherd's
crook; the long HANDLE of it, well away from Siptitz, reaches up to
Neiden, this is the straight or wooden part of said crook; after
which comes the bent, catching, or iron part,--intended for Daun
and his fierce flock. Ziethen has hardly above six miles; and ought
to be deliberate in his woodlands, till the King's party have time
to get round.

The morning, I find, is wet; fourteen miles of march: fancy such a
Promenade through the dripping Woods; heavy, toilsome, and with
such errand ahead! The delays were considerable; some of them
accidental. Vigilant Daun has Detachments watching in these Woods:
--a General Ried, who fires cannon and gets off: then a General St.
Ignon and the St. Ignon Regiment of Dragoons; who, being BETWEEN
Column First and Column Second, cannot get away; but, after some
industry by Kleist and those of Column Two, are caught and
pocketed, St. Ignon himself prisoner among the rest. This delay may
perhaps be considered profitable: but there were other delays
absolutely without profit. For example, that of having difficulties
with your artillery-wagons in the wet miry lanes; that of missing
your road, at some turn in the solitary woods; which latter was the
sad chance of Column Third, fatally delaying it for many hours.

Daun, learning by those returned parties from the Woods what the
Royal intentions on him are, hastily whirls himself round, so as to
front north, and there receive Friedrich: best line northward for
Friedrich's behoof; rear line or second-best will now receive
Ziethen or what may come. Daun's arrangements are admitted to be
prompt and excellent. Lacy, with his 20,000,--who lay, while
Friedrich's attack was expected from south, at Loswig, as advanced
guard, east side of the GROSSE TEICH (supreme pond of all, which is
a continuation of the Duck-trap, ENTEFANG, and hangs like a chief
goitre on the goitry neck of Torgau),--Lacy is now to draw himself
north and westward, and looking into the Entefang over his left
shoulder (so to speak), be rear-guard against any Ziethen or
Prussian party that may come. Daun's baggage is all across the
Elbe, all in wagons since yesterday; three Bridges hanging for Daun
and it, in case of adverse accident. Daun likewise brings all or
nearly all his cannon to the new front, for Friedrich's behoof:
200 new pieces hither; Archenholtz says 400 in whole;
certainly such a weight of artillery as never appeared in Battle
before. Unless Friedrich's arrangements prove punctual, and his
stroke be emphatic, Friedrich may happen to fare badly. On the
latter point, of emphasis, there is no dubiety for Friedrich:
but on the former,--things are already past doubt, the wrong way!
For the last hour or so of Friedrich's march there has been
continual storm of cannonade and musketry audible from Ziethen's
side:--"Ziethen engaged!" thinks everybody; and quickens step here,
under this marching music from the distance. Which is but a wrong
reading or mistake, nothing more; the real phenomenon being as
follows: Ziethen punctually got to Klitschen at the due hour;
struck into the BUTTER-STRASSE, calculating his paces; but, on the
edge of the Wood found a small Austrian party, like those in
Friedrich's route; and, pushing into it, the Austrian party replied
with cannon before running. Whereupon Ziethen, not knowing how
inconsiderable it was, drew out in battle-order; gave it a salvo or
two; drove it back on Lacy, in the Duck-trap direction,--a long way
east of Butter-Street, and Ziethen's real place;--unlucky that he
followed it so far! Ziethen followed it; and got into some languid
dispute with Lacy: dispute quite distant, languid, on both sides,
and consisting mainly of cannon; but lasting in this way many
precious hours. This is the phenomenon which friends, in the
distance read to be, "Ziethen engaged!" Engaged, yes, and alas with
what? What Ziethen's degree of blame was, I do not know.
Friedrich thought it considerable:--"Stupid, stupid, MEIN LIEBER!"
which Ziethen never would admit;--and, beyond question, it was of
high detriment to Friedrich this day. Such accidents, say military
men, are inherent, not to be avoided, in that double form of
attack: which may be true, only that Friedrich had no choice left
of forms just now.

About noon Friedrich's Vanguard (Kleist and Hussars), about 1
o'clock Friedrich himself, 7 or 8,000 Grenadiers, emerged from the
Woods about Neiden. This Column, which consists of choice troops,
is to be Front-line of the Attack. But there is yet no Second
Column under Hulsen, still less any Third under Holstein, come in
sight: and Ziethen's cannonade is but too audible. Friedrich halts;
sends Adjutants to hurry on these Columns;--and rides out
reconnoitring, questioning peasants; earnestly surveying Daun's
ground and his own. Daun's now right wing well eastward about Zinna
had been Friedrich's intended point of attack; but the ground, out
there, proves broken by boggy brooks and remnant stagnancies of the
Old Elbe: Friedrich finds he must return into the Wood again;
and attack Daun's left. Daun's left is carefully drawn down EN
POTENCE, or gallows-shape there; and has, within the Wood,
carefully built by Prince Henri last year, an extensive Abatis, or
complete western wall,--only the north part of which is perhaps now
passable, the Austrians having in the cold time used a good deal of
it as firewood lately. There, on the northwest corner of Daun,
across that weak part of the Abatis, must Friedrich's attack lie.
But Friedrich's Columns are still fatally behind,--Holstein, with
all the Cavalry we have, so precious at present, is wandering by
wrong paths; took the wrong turn at some point, and the Adjutant
can hardly find him at all, with his precept of "Haste, Haste!"

We may figure Friedrich's humor under these ill omens.
Ziethen's cannonade becomes louder and louder; which Friedrich
naturally fancies to be death or life to him,--not to mean almost
nothing, as it did. "MEIN GOTT, Ziethen is in action, and I have
not my Infantry up!" [Tempelhof, iv. 303.] cried he. And at length
decided to attack as he was: Grenadiers in front, the chosen of his
Infantry; Ramin's Brigade for second line; and, except about 800 of
Kleist, no Cavalry at all. His battalions march out from Neiden
hand, through difficult brooks, Striebach and the like, by bridges
of Austrian build, which the Austrians are obliged to quit in
hurry. The Prussians are as yet perpendicular to Daun, but will
wheel rightward, into the Domitsch Wood again; and then form,--
parallel to Daun's northwest shoulder; and to Prince Henri's
Abatis, which will be their first obstacle in charging.
Their obstacles in forming were many and intricate; ground so
difficult, for artillery especially: seldom was seen such
expertness, such willingness of mind. And seldom lay ahead of men
such obstacles AFTER forming! Think only of one fact: Daun, on
sight of their intention, has opened 400 pieces of Artillery on
them, and these go raging and thundering into the hem of the Wood,
and to whatever issues from it, now and for hours to come, at a
rate of deafening uproar and of sheer deadliness, which no observer
can find words for.

Archenholtz, a very young officer of fifteen, who came into it
perhaps an hour hence, describes it as a thing surpassable only by
Doomsday: clangorous rage of noise risen to the infinite;
the boughs of the trees raining down on you, with horrid crash;
the Forest, with its echoes, bellowing far and near, and
reverberating in universal death-peal; comparable to the Trump of
Doom. Friedrich himself, who is an old hand, said to those about
him: "What an infernal fire (HOLLISCHES FEUER)! Did you ever hear
such a cannonade before? I never." [Tempelhof, iv. 304;
Archenholtz, ii. 164.] Friedrich is between the Two Lines of his
Grenadiers, which is his place during the attack: the first Line of
Grenadiers, behind Prince Henri's Abatis, is within 800 yards of
Daun; Ramin's Brigade is to rear of the Second Line, as a Reserve.
Horse they have none, except the 800 Kleist Hussars; who stand to
the left, outside the Wood, fronted by Austrian Horse in hopeless
multitude. Artillery they have, in effect, none: their Batteries,
hardly to be got across these last woody difficulties of trees
growing and trees felled, did rank outside the Wood, on their left;
but could do absolutely nothing (gun-carriages and gunners,
officers and men, being alike blown away); and when Tempelhof saw
them afterwards, they never had been fired at all. The Grenadiers
have their muskets, and their hearts and their right-hands.

With amazing intrepidity, they, being at length all ready in rank
within 800 yards, rush into the throat of this Fire-volcano; in the
way commanded,--which is the alone way: such a problem as human
bravery seldom had. The Grenadiers plunge forward upon the throat
of Daun; but it is into the throat of his iron engines and his
tearing billows of cannon-shot that most of them go. Shorn down by
the company, by the regiment, in those terrible 800 yards,--then
and afterwards. Regiment STUTTERHEIM was nearly all killed and
wounded, say the Books. You would fancy it was the fewest of them
that ever got to the length of selling their lives to Daun, instead
of giving them away to his 400 cannon. But it is not so.
The Grenadiers, both Lines of them, still in quantity, did get into
contact with Daun. And sold him their lives, hand to hand, at a
rate beyond example in such circumstances;--Daun having to hurry up
new force in streams upon them; resolute to purchase, though the
price, for a long while, rose higher and higher.

At last the 6,000 Grenadiers, being now reduced to the tenth man,
had to fall back. Upon which certain Austrian Battalions rushed
dawn in chase, counting it Victory come: but were severely
admonished of that mistake; and driven back by Ramin's people, who
accompanied them into their ranks and again gave Daun a great deal
of trouble before he could overpower them. This is Attack First,
issuing in failure first: one of the stiffest bits of fighting ever
known. Began about 2 in the afternoon; ended, I should guess,
rather after 3. Daun, by this time, is in considerable disorder of
line; though his 400 fire-throats continue belching ruin, and
deafening the world, without abatement. Daun himself had got
wounded in the foot or leg during this Attack, but had no time to
mind it: a most busy, strong and resolute Daun; doing his very
best. Friedrich, too, was wounded,--nobody will tell me in which of
these attacks;--but I think not now, at least will not speak of it
now. What his feelings were, as this Grenadier Attack went on,--a
struggle so unequal, but not to be helped, from the delays that had
risen,--nobody, himself least of all, records for us: only by this
little symptom: Two Grandsons of the Old Dessauer's are Adjutants
of his Majesty, and well loved by him; one of them now at his hand,
the other heading his regiment in this charge of Grenadiers.
Word comes to Friedrich that this latter one is shot dead. On which
Friedrich, turning to the Brother, and not hiding his emotion, as
was usual in such moments, said: "All goes ill to-day; my friends
are quitting me. I have just heard that your Brother is killed
M'ANNONCER LA MORT DE VOTRE FRERE)!" [Preuss, ii. 226.] Words which
the Anhalt kindred, and the Prussian military public, treasured up
with a reverence strange to us. Of Anhalt perhaps some word by and
by, at a fitter season.

Shortly after 3, as I reckon the time, Hulsen's Column did arrive:
choice troops these too, the Pomeranian MANTEUFFEL, one regiment of
them;--young Archenholtz of FORCADE (first Battalion here, second
and third are with Ziethen, making vain noise) was in this Column;
came, with the others, winding to the Wood's edge, in such
circuits, poor young soul; rain pouring, if that had been worth
notice; cannon-balls plunging, boughs crashing, such a TODES-
POSAUNE, or Doomsday-Thunder, broken loose:--they did emerge
steadily, nevertheless, he says, "like sea-billows or flow of tide,
under the smoky hurricane." Pretty men are here too, Manteuffel
Pommerners; no hearts stouter. With these, and the indignant
Remnants which waited for them, a new assault upon Daun is set
about. And bursts out, on that same northwest corner of him;
say about half-past 3. The rain is now done, "blown away by the
tremendous artillery," thinks Archenholtz, if that were any matter.

The Attack, supported by a few more Horse (though Column Three
still fatally lingers), and, I should hope, by some practicable
weight of Field-batteries, is spurred by a grimmer kind of
indignation, and is of fiercer spirit than ever. Think how
Manteuffel of Foot will blaze out; and what is the humor of those
once overwhelmed Remnants, now getting air again! Daun's line is
actually broken in this point, his artillery surmounted and become
useless; Daun's potence and north front are reeling backwards,
Prussians in possession of their ground. "The field to be ours!"
thinks Friedrich, for some time. If indeed Ziethen had been
seriously busy on the southern side of things, instead of vaguely
cannonading in that manner! But resolute Daun, with promptitude,
calls in his Reserve from Grosswig, calls in whatsoever of
disposable force he can gather; Daun rallies, rushes again on the
Prussians in overpowering number; and, in spite of their most
desperate resistance, drives them back, ever back; and recovers
his ground.

A very desperate bout, this Second one; probably the toughest of
the Battle: but the result again is Daun's; the Prussians palpably
obliged to draw back. Friedrich himself got wounded here;--poor
young Archenholtz too, ONLY wounded, not killed, as so many were:--
Friedrich's wound was a contusion on the breast; came of some spent
bit of case-shot, deadened farther by a famed pelisse he wore,--
"which saved my life," he said afterwards to Henri. The King
himself little regarded it (mentioning it only to Brother Henri, on
inquiry and solicitation), during the few weeks it still hung about
him. The Books intimate that it struck him to the earth, void of
consciousness for some time, to the terror of those about him;
and that he started up, disregarding it altogether in this press of
business, and almost as if ashamed of himself, which imposed
silence on people's tongues. In military circles there is still, on
this latter point, an Anecdote; which I cannot confirm or deny, but
will give for the sake of Berenhorst and his famed Book on the ART
OF WAR. Berenhorst--a natural son of the Old Dessauer's, and
evidently enough a chip of the old block, only gone into the
articulate-speaking or intellectual form--was, for the present, an
Adjutant or Aide-de-camp of Friedrich's; and at this juncture was
seen bending over the swooned Friedrich, perhaps with an over-
pathos or elaborate something in his expression of countenance:
when Friedrich reopened his indignant eyes: "WAS MACHT ER HIER?"
cried Friedrich: "ER SAMMLE FUYARDS! What have you to do here? Go
and gather runaways" (be of some real use, can't you)!--which
unkind cut struck deep into Berenhorst, they say; and could never
after be eradicated from his gloomy heart. It is certain he became
Prince Henri's Adjutant soon after, and that in his KRIEGSKUNST,
amidst the clearest orthodox admiration, he manifests, by little
touches up and down, a feeling of very fell and pallid quality
against the King; and belongs, in a peculiarly virulent though
taciturn way, to the Opposition Party. H1s Book, next to English
Lloyd's (or perhaps superior, for Berenhorst is of much the more
cultivated intellect, highly condensed too, though so discursive
and far-read, were it not for the vice of perverse diabolic
temper), seemed, to a humble outsider like myself, greatly the
strongest-headed, most penetrating and humanly illuminative I had
had to study on that subject. Who the weakest-headed was (perhaps
JOMINI, among the widely circulating kind?), I will not attempt to
decide, so great is the crush in that bad direction. To return.

This Second Attack is again a repulse to the indignant Friedrich;
though he still persists in fierce effort to recover himself:
and indeed Daun's interior, too, it appears, is all in a whirl of
confusion; his losses too having been enormous:--when, see, here at
length, about half-past 4, Sun now down, is the tardy Holstein,
with his Cavalry, emerging from the Woods. Comes wending on yonder,
half a mile to north of us; straight eastward or Elbe-ward
(according to the order of last night), leaving us and our death-
struggles unregarded, as a thing that is not on his tablets, and is
no concern of Holstein's. Friedrich halts him, not quite too late;
organizes a new and third Attack. Simultaneous universal effort of
foot and horse upon Daun's Front; Holstein himself, who is almost
at Zinna by this time, to go upon Daun's right wing. This is Attack
Third; and is of sporadic intermittent nature, in the thickening
dusk and darkness: part of it successful, none of it beaten, but
nowhere the success complete. Thus, in the extreme west or leftmost
of Friedrich's attack, SPAEN Dragoons,--one of the last Horse
Regiments of Holstein's Column,--SPAEN Dragoons, under their
Lieutenant-Colonel Dalwig (a beautiful manoeuvrer, who has stormed
through many fields, from Mollwitz onwards), cut in, with an
admired impetuosity, with an audacious skill, upon, the Austrian
Infantry Regiments there; broke them to pieces, took two of them in
the lump prisoners; bearded whole torrents of Austrian cavalry
rushing up to the rescue,--and brought off their mass of prisoner
regiments and six cannon;--the Austrian rescuers being charged by
some new Prussian party, and hunted home again. [Tempelhof, iv.
305.] "Had these Prussian Horse been on their ground at 2 o'clock,
and done as now, it is very evident," says Tempelhof, "what the
Battle of Torgau had by this time been!"

Near by, too, farther rightwards, if in the bewildering
indistinctness I might guess where (but the where is not so
important to us), Baireuth Dragoons, they of the 67 standards at
Striegau long since, plunged into the Austrian Battalions at an
unsurpassable rate; tumbled four regiments of them (Regiment
KAISER, Regiment NEIPPERG,--nobody now cares which four) heels over
head, and in few minutes took the most of them prisoners;
bringing them home too, like Dalwig, through crowds of rescuers.
Eastward, again, or Elbe-ward, Holstein has found such intricacies
of ground, such boggy depths and rough steeps, his Cavalry could
come to no decisive sabring with the Austrian; but stood exchanging
shot;--nothing to be done on that right wing of Daun.

Daun's left flank, however, does appear, after Three such Attacks,
to be at last pretty well ruined: Tempelhof says, "Daun's whole
Front Line was tumbled to pieces; disorder had, sympathetically,
gone rearward, even in those eastern parts; and on the western and
northwestern the Prussian Horse Regiments were now standing in its
place." But, indeed, such charging and recharging, pulsing and
repulsing, has there been hereabouts for hours past, the rival
Hosts have got completely interpenetrated; Austrian parties, or
whole regiments, are to rear of those Prussians who stand ranked
here, and in victorious posture, as the Night sinks. Night is now
sinking on this murderous day: "Nothing more to be made of it;
try it again to-morrow!" thinks the King; gives Hulsen charge of
bivouacking and re-arranging these scattered people; and rides with
escort northwestward to Elsnig, north of Neiden, well to rear of
this bloody arena,--in a mood of mind which may be figured as
gloomy enough.

Daun, too, is home to Torgau,--1 think, a little earlier,--to have
his wound dressed, now that the day seems to him secure.
Buccow, Daun's second, is killed; Daun's third is an Irish Graf
O'Donnell, memorable only on this one occasion; to this O'Donnell,
and to Lacy, who is firm on his ground yonder, untouched all day,
the charge of matters is left. Which cannot be a difficult one,
hopes Daun. Daun, while his wound is dressing, speeds off a courier
to Vienna. Courier did enter duly there, with glorious trumpeting
postilions, and universal Hep-hep-hurrah; kindling that ardently
loyal City into infinite triumph and illumination,--for the space
of certain hours following.

Hulsen meanwhile has been doing his best to get into proper bivouac
for the morrow; has drawn back those eastward horse regiments,
drawn forward the infantry battalions; forward, I think, and well
rightward, where, in the daytime, Daun's left flank was. On the
whole, it is northwestward that the general Prussian Bivouac for
this night is; the extremest SOUTHwestern-most portion of it is
Infantry, under General Lestwitz; a gallant useful man, who little
dreams of becoming famous this dreary uncertain night.

It is 6 o'clock. Damp dusk has thickened down into utter darkness,
on these terms:--when, lo, cannonade and musketade from the south,

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