Frederick continued to sketch. The generals gazed at him in silence, anxiously awaiting the moment when he would arouse himself. He suddenly looked up, and did not seem surprised to see them; lifting his hat slightly, he greeted them, and rose from his lowly seat.
"It is well, sirs, that you are here," said he. "We must now make our preparations for the future; for our enemies, having beaten us once, will think us no longer capable of resisting them, and will fall upon us with renewed courage. We will convince them, gentlemen, that though we are stricken to the ground for a moment, we are not crushed, not dead.
We will convince them that we still live to tear from them the laurels they have taken from us this day. Prince von Dessau, hasten immediately to our army at Prague. I command the Prince of Prussia to raise the siege there at once. He shall call all his generals together, and hold council with them as to the most suitable mode of retreat. He shall determine with them how the siege can best be raised; to avoid, as far as possible, the appearance of flying from their enemy. With gay music they should leave their posts; they should not all leave together, but in groups, so as to mislead the enemy. In small companies should also the retreat through Bohemia to Lausitz be made, for it would be difficult for a large army to pass this mountainous district; but they should remain as near together as possible, choosing the widest, most convenient roads. These are the orders you are to deliver my brother, the Prince of Prussia, and his generals. I give to the prince the command of this portion of my army, and require of him to hasten to Lausitz. I will join him in Bautzen. And then, gentlemen, we will seek an occasion to repay our enemies for their civilities of to-day."
The generals had listened to him with breathless attention; and as he now dismissed them, with a glorious smile upon his lips, they repeated unanimously his last words, "We will repay our enemies for their civilities."
As if inspired by this shout, the soldiers, lying about the market place, at a slight distance from the king, broke into a loud hurrah, and shouted, "Long live our king!"
The king turned slowly toward them, but when he saw all that remained of his noble army, he became pale, and pressed his lips tightly together, as if to suppress a cry of horror. Then advancing, followed by his generals, to where his weary, wounded soldiers were lying, he said:
"Children, is this all that is left of you?"
"Yes, father, we are the last," said an old gray-headed officer, standing before the king. "There were many thousands of us, now there are two hundred and fifty."
"Two hundred and fifty!" repeated the king, with a bitter smile.
"And it was not our fault," continued the old officer, "that we did not fall with the rest. We fought as bravely as they; but Death did not want us. Perhaps he thought it best to leave a few of us, to guard our king.
We all think so! Some were left to repay those abominable Saxons for their to-day's work."
"And why alone the Saxons?" asked the king.
"Because it was those infamous Saxon troops that hewed down our regiment. They fell upon us like devils, and striking their cursed swords into us, cried out, 'This is for Striegau!'"
"Ah! you see," cried the king, "that while beating you, they could but think of the many times you had conquered them."
"They shall think of this again, father," said another soldier, raising himself with great pain from the ground. "Wait until our wounds have healed, and we will repay them with interest."
"You are wounded, Henry?" said the king.
"Yes, your majesty, in the arm."
"And old Klaus?"
"Is dead!"
"And Fritz Verder?"
"Dead! He lies with the others upon the battle-field. There are seven hundred and fifty of us in heaven, and only two hundred and fifty on earth. But those above, as well as below, still cry--'Long live our king!'"
"Long live our king," cried they all, rising.
The king made no reply; his eye passed from one to the other pale, exhausted countenance, and an inexpressible sorrow overcame him.
"Dead!" murmured he, "my faithful guards dead! seven hundred and fifty of my choice men have fallen." And overpowered by his emotion, the king did not force back the tears welling to his eyes. They stole softly down his cheek, and Frederick was not ashamed. He did not blush, because his warriors had seen him weep.
"Children," cried the old officer, after a pause, and wiping the tears from his weary eyes, "from now on it will be glorious to die, for when we are dead, our king weeps for us."
CHAPTER VIII. THE INIMICAL BROTHERS.
"The king comes! The king is entering Bautzen!"
This announcement brought pale terror to the hearts of the Prince of Prussia and his generals. They who had heretofore sprang joyfully to meet the call of their king, now trembled at his glance. They must now present to him the sad and despoiled remnant of that great army which, under the command of the Prince Augustus William of Prussia, had made the retreat from Lausitz.
It had, indeed, been the most fearful retreat ever attempted by the Prussian troops. It had cost them more than the bloodiest battle, and they had suffered more from hardships during the last few days than ever before during a whole campaign. They had marched over narrow, stony, rugged mountain-paths, between hills and horrible abysses, sometimes climbing upward, sometimes descending. Thousands died from exhaustion; thousands pressed backward, crushed by those in the front; thousands, forced onward by those in the rear, had stumbled and fallen into fathomless caverns, which lay at the foot of these mountain passes, yawning like open graves. If a wheel broke, the wagon was burned; there was no time for repairs, and if left in the path, it interrupted the passage of the flying army. At last, in order to facilitate the flight, the provision-wagons were burned, and the bread divided amongst the soldiers; the equipages and pontoon-wagons were also burned. Exhausted by their unusual exertions, beside themselves from pain and unheard-of suffering the whole army was seized with a death-panic.
The soldiers had lost not only all faith in their good fortune, but all faith in their leaders. Thousands deserted; thousands fled to escape death, which seemed to mock at and beckon to them from every pointed rock and every dark cavern. [Footnote: Warner's "Campaigns of Frederick the Great".]
While one part of the army deserted or died of hunger or exhaustion, another part fought with an intrenched enemy, for three long days, in the narrow pass of Gabel, under the command of General von Puttkammer.
They fought like heroes, but were at last obliged to surrender, with two thousand men and seven cannon. Utterly broken by these losses, dead and dying from starvation and weariness, the army drew off toward Zittau.
There was but one thought which sustained the wearied, and lent strength to the starving. In Zittau were immense magazines of grain. In Zittau, the rich Saxon city, which throughout all Saxony was called the gold-mine, they dared hope for rest and opportunity to recover.
Before this unhappy army reached Zittau, Duke Charles of Lothringen was in advance of them. With wanton cruelty he reduced the industrious, open city to ashes, destroyed the Prussian magazines, and, with his army, trampled upon the ruins and the corpses of this unfortified town. The Prussians had now lost their last hope. They encamped by Lodau, and after a short rest, advanced to Bautzen, which city the king had appointed for the reunion of the two army corps. And now, one day after the arrival of this miserable remnant of an army, the king entered the camp of Bautzen.
The unhappy moment was at hand; they must now meet the stern eye of the king. These were bold, heroic generals--the Prince of Prussia, Von Bevern, Von Wurtemberg, Von Dessau, Winterfeldt, Goltz, Ziethen, Krokow, and Schmettau. Bravely, triumphantly had they fought in all previous battles, but now, amidst defeat and disaster, they must meet the eye of the king. This was more dangerous to them than the most deadly battle, and they shrank appalled before this fearful encounter.
Silently, and frowning darkly, the generals mounted their horses, and rode down the highway--the Prince of Prussia in advance, and by his side the Duke of Wurtemberg. And now, in front of them, in an open space, they saw the king. He was on his horse, and looked sternly toward them.
The Prince of Prussia trembled, and, involuntarily checking his horse, he stooped with a weary smile toward the duke.
"I have a feeling," said he, in low tones, "as if my fate was advancing threateningly, in the form of my brother. It glowers upon me with a glance which announces that I am condemned to death. Look, duke! my sentence is written in the raging eye of the king."
"The king's wrath will not fall upon you alone," whispered the duke, "but upon us all. This is a wild tempest, which threatens us all in the same moment with destruction."
"A tempest? yes! the thunder rolls over all, but the stroke of lightning falls only upon me; and I--I am the one," said the prince, solemnly; "I am the sacrificial offering chosen by the king, with which he will seek to propitiate the frowning gods of destiny."
"God forbid!" said the duke, sadly. "The king will be just! He will see that these frightful misfortunes were unavoidable; that we are innocent.
He will listen to our explanations; he--"
"I tell you," said Augustus William, "he will demand a subject for his scorn. I shall be this sacrifice! Well, so let it be; I am willing to be offered up for my fatherland! Let us go onward, duke." He drew his bridle and they rode forward.
The king remained immovable in the same spot, his proud head erect, and his icy glance fixed steadily upon them.
As they drew nearer, and could no longer doubt that he recognized them, the king moved slowly round, and turned his back upon them. They were greatly embarrassed--undecided what to do; they looked to the prince, in the hope that he would advance and announce himself to the king, and compel him to notice them. Prince Augustus William did not advance; he stood firm and immovable, as if moulded in brass. No muscle of his face moved, but his pale and tightly-compressed lips slightly trembled. The generals followed his example. Silently, immovably they stood behind him, their eyes fixed upon the king, who remained still with his back turned to them.
There was a long and painful pause; not a word was spoken. Those who were arranging the tents for the king's troops were moving actively about, and now they drew near with their measuring-line, exactly to the spot upon which the king stood. He was forced to take another position; he turned his horse, and stood exactly in front of his generals. His countenance was not calm and cold, it flashed with rage. The Prince of Prussia had the courage to brave his anger, and, drawing near, he bowed profoundly.
The king did not answer his greeting, and, indeed, appeared not to see him. A black cloud was on his brow, and it became still blacker as the other generals dared to approach and salute him. Suddenly, in that tone of voice he was accustomed to use only upon the field of battle the king called out:
"Goltz, come here!"
The general advanced from the circle, with a firm military bearing, and approached the king.
"Goltz," said he, loudly, and looking as if he wished to crush the unhappy general--"Goltz, tell my brother and the other generals that if I did justice, I would take off their heads--Winterfeldt only excepted."
[Footnote: The king's own words--"Characteristics of the Seven Years'