Chapter 20. Torgau

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_ After many marches and quick blows at the Confederate armies, and driving them beyond the borders of Saxony, Frederick moved towards Torgau, where Daun had established himself in a position that he deemed impregnable. It had been Prince Henry's camp during the previous autumn, and Daun had in vain beleaguered it. Hulsen had made it his headquarters during the summer.

Torgau was an old-fashioned town, surrounded by tracts of pine wood, with pleasant villages and much well-cultivated land. The town rose above the Elbe, on the shoulder of a broad eminence called the Siptitz. This height stands nearly a mile from the river. On the western and southern side of the town are a series of lakes and quagmires, the remains of an old course of the Elbe.

Set on Siptitz's heights was Daun's camp, girt about by intrenchments. The hill was mostly covered with vineyards. Its height was some two hundred feet above the general level of the country, and its area some five or six square miles. Covered, as its flanks were, by heights, woods, ponds, and morasses, the position was an extremely strong one, so much so that Daun had not ventured to attack Prince Henry, though in vastly superior force; and still more difficult was it for Frederick to do so, when held by an army greatly superior to his own, for the Austrian force numbered sixty-five thousand, while the king, after being joined by all his detachments, had but forty-four thousand. Nothing, indeed, but the most urgent necessity could have driven the king to attempt so difficult an enterprise.

[Map: Battle of Torgau]

His plan was to attack it simultaneously in front and rear; and to do this he decided that half the force, under Ziethen, should attack the Siptitz hill on the south side; while he himself, with the other half, was to make a long detour and assault it, at the same moment, on the north.

Frederick's march was some fifteen miles in length, while Ziethen had but six to traverse; and as the route was through forests, the difficulties in the way of the two columns arriving at their point of attack, simultaneously, were great indeed; and were increased by the fact that the weather was wet, the ground heavy, and the streams swollen.

The king's force marched in three columns, by roads through the forest. There were no villages here, no one to question as to the turns and branchings of roads, thus adding to the chances that even Frederick's force would not arrive together at the point of attack. Frederick's own column contained eight thousand grenadiers and foot guards, with a force of cavalry; and his line of march was by the road nearest to Daun's position.

Two other columns--Hulsen's, composed principally of infantry; and Holstein's, chiefly of cavalry--marched on parallel roads on a wider circle; and the baggage, in a column by itself, outside all.

Daun had news of Frederick's approach, and had strong detachments watching in the woods. The scouts of one of these parties brought in news of the king's march. A signal cannon was fired immediately, and Daun learned thereby of the movement to attack him from the north.

Daun at once wheeled round a portion of his force to receive Frederick's attack. Lacy, with twenty thousand men, had been placed as an advanced guard; and now shifted his position westward, to guard what had become Daun's rear; while two hundred fresh cannon were added, to the two hundred already placed, to defend the face threatened by Frederick.

For an hour before the king arrived at his point of attack, a heavy artillery fire had been heard from Ziethen's side; and it was supposed that he had already delivered his attack. Unfortunately, he had not done so. He had calculated his pace accurately, but had come upon a small Austrian force, like those Frederick had encountered. It had for a time held its ground, and had replied to his fire with cannon. Ziethen, not knowing how small the force was, drew up in order of battle and drove it back on Lacy, far to the east of his proper place of attack. Here he became engaged with Lacy, and a cannonade was kept up for some hours--precious time that should have been spent in ascending the hills, and giving aid to the king.

When Frederick's column emerged from the woods, there was no sign of either Hulsen or Holstein's divisions. The king sent out his staff to hurry them up, and himself reconnoitred the ground and questioned the peasants.

The ground proved so boggy as to be impassable, and Frederick withdrew into the wood again, in order to attack the Austrian left. This had, in Prince Henry's time, been defended by a strong abattis; but since the cold weather set in, much of this had been used by the Austrians as firewood, and it could therefore be penetrated.

Frederick waited impatiently. He could hear the heavy cannonade on Ziethen, and feared that that general would be crushed before he could perform his part of the plan arranged. His staff were unable to find Holstein's cavalry, which had taken the wrong turning at some point, and were completely lost. Hulsen was still far away.

Nevertheless, in his desire to give support to Ziethen, the king decided upon an attack with his own column, alone. The grenadiers were placed in the front line, the rest of the infantry in the centre. The cavalry, 800 strong, followed to do any service that chance might afford them.

It took some time to bring the troops into their new position and, while this was being done, Daun opened fire, with his four hundred cannon, upon the forest through which they were marching, with a din that Frederick declared exceeded anything that he ever heard before. The small force of artillery took its place outside the wood to cover the attack but, as soon as a few shots were fired, the Austrian guns opened upon them and they were silenced.

Frederick's place was between the two lines of his grenadiers, and they issued from the wood within eight hundred yards of Prince Henry's abattis, and with marvellous bravery ran forward. Mowed down in lines by the storm of cannon shot, they suffered terribly. One regiment was almost entirely destroyed, the other pressed forward as far as the abattis, fighting so desperately that Daun was obliged to bring up large reinforcements before he could drive the survivors back.

The Austrians, believing that victory was won, charged down in pursuit; but the second line met them firmly, drove them back and, following hotly, again reached the abattis; and only retreated slowly before the overwhelming forces which the Austrian then brought up. The battle had lasted only an hour, but half Frederick's column were already killed or wounded.

Shortly after they had retired, Hulsen's column came up. The four hundred guns had never ceased pouring their iron rain into the forest, but the newcomers arrived in splendid order. The remnant of Frederick's column joined them, furious at defeat and burning to meet the enemy again.

So stern and resolute was the attack that, for a time, it carried all before it. Daun's line of defence was broken, most of his cannon silenced, and for a time the Prussians advanced, carrying all before them. Had Ziethen been doing his part, instead of idly cannonading Lacy, the battle would have been won; but his inactivity enabled Daun to bring up all his forces against the king. These he hurled at the Prussians and, foot by foot, drove them back and pushed them down the hill again.

Frederick himself had been struck from his horse by a piece of case shot, fortunately almost spent, and which failed to penetrate his thick pelisse. He was badly contused, and for a short time insensible; but he quickly sprung to his feet again, mounted his horse, and maintained his place in the fight as if nothing had happened. After this second repulse he again formed up his troops, and at that moment he was joined by Holstein with his cavalry.

The sun had already set, and the darkness favoured the attack. Daun had not yet recovered from the terrible confusion into which his troops were thrown by the attack, and the Prussians again mounted the hill, Holstein attacking Daun's right wing.

The main body of the cavalry found the morasses and obstacles so impracticable that they were unable to attack as arranged, but two regiments succeeded in gaining the plateau. One of these dashed upon the Austrian infantry. They met, broke into fragments, and took two whole regiments prisoners; and brought them and six guns triumphantly off. The other regiment charged four Austrian battalions, broke them, and brought the greater portion off, prisoners.

Night fell upon a scene of general confusion. The two armies were completely mixed up. In some places Austrians were in the rear of the Prussians, in others Prussians in the rear of Austrians.

Nothing more could to be done. So far Frederick had gained a success and, thanks to the extraordinary bravery and determination of his soldiers, had broken up Daun's line and planted himself on the plateau; but he had suffered terribly in doing so, and could hardly hope, in the morning, to make head against the vastly superior forces of the Austrians.

Daun himself had been wounded in the foot, and had gone down to the town to have it dressed. Had he been able to remain on the field, late as it was, he might have been able to restore order and to continue the battle; as it was, gradually the firing ceased. Exhausted by the long march and the desperate efforts they had made, the Prussians wrapped themselves in their cloaks, and lay down to sleep where they stood--if sleep they could, on so bitterly cold a night.

On the hilltop there was no wood to be had, but in the forest great fires were lighted. Round these Prussian and Austrian stragglers alike gathered. In the morning they would be foes again, but for tonight they were content to lay their quarrel aside, none knowing who was victor and who vanquished; and which, in the morning, would be prisoners to the others.

The king, now that the excitement was over, felt the pain of his wound. He descended the hill, and took up his quarters in the church at the little village of Elsnig, where every house was full of wounded. He had left Hulsen the charge of endeavouring to reform the scattered troops, but he could do but little that way. In vain did the generals and officers move about with orders, expostulations, and threats. For once the Prussian soldier was deaf to the word of command. He had done all that he could do, and nature triumphed over long habits of obedience; even the sound of cannon and musketry, on the other side of the hill, fell dead upon his ears. Ziethen had been cannonading all day. Nothing had come of it, and nothing could come of it.

Still, Hulsen did a good deal, and by six o'clock had got some of the cavalry and infantry battalions in fair order, on the extreme right; where, in the morning, Daun's left flank stood.

Ziethen, ordinarily a brilliant and active man, had been a strange failure that day. Not even the terrible din of the king's battle had roused him to take any measure to support him, or even to make a diversion in his favour. In vain Mollendorf, an active and enterprising general, had implored him to attempt something, if only to draw off a portion of the Austrian strength from the king. Saldern, another general, had fruitlessly added his voice to that of Mollendorf.

A feeling of deep gloom spread through the army, a feeling that the king had been deserted, and must have been crushed; just as, on the other side, all felt certain that some serious misfortune must have happened to Ziethen.

At last, as darkness began to set in, at four o'clock, Ziethen was persuaded to move. He marched towards the left, to the point where he should have attacked in the morning, but which he had passed in his hot pursuit of the small Austrian force; but first sent Saldern against the village of Siptitz.

Burning with their repressed impatience, Saldern's infantry went at the enemy with a rush, captured the battery there, and drove the Austrians out; but the latter fired the bridge so that, for the present, farther advance was barred to the Prussians.

Fortunately at this moment Mollendorf, more to the west, came upon the road by which Ziethen should have marched. It was carried firmly over the marsh ground, and by a bridge over a stream between two of the ponds. Seizing this pass over the morasses, Mollendorf sent to Ziethen; who, roused at last, ordered all his force to hurry there.

The Austrians had now taken the alarm, and hurried to oppose the passage; but Mollendorf had already many troops across the bridge, and maintained himself till he was sufficiently reinforced to push forward.

For an hour and a half a desperate fight raged. The Prussians gained but little ground, while the Austrians were constantly being reinforced from Lacy's command, on their left. Hulsen, however, just as he had got a portion of his infantry and cavalry into some sort of order, had marked the sudden increase of the cannonade on the other side of the hill; and, presently seeing the glow of a great fire, guessed that it must come from the village of Siptitz. Then came a furious cannonade, and the continuous roar of musketry that spoke of a battle in earnest. Ziethen, then, was coming at last, and the old general determined to help him.

His own riding horses had all been killed, and he had been sorely bruised by the falls. Sending for a cannon, he got astride of it, called up the infantry round him--the brigade of General Lestwitz--begged the drummers to strike up the Prussian march and, through the blackness of the night, started for the point where the din of battle was going on unceasingly.

Forgotten now were the fatigues of the day. The Prussians pressed on with their quick strides, their excitement growing higher and higher as they neared the scene of action; and breaking out into a roar of cheering as, sweeping round on the side of the hill, they joined Ziethen's hardly-pressed troops and rushed upon the enemy.

But though the news of their coming cheered all the line to fresh exertions, not yet was the combat finished. The whole of Lacy's command was opposed to them, swelled by reinforcements sent down from above by O'Donnel who, in Daun's absence, was in command. It was another hour before the foe gave way, and the Prussians pressed steadily up the hill; until at nine o'clock they were planted on the top of the Siptitz hill, on the highest point of the plateau, whence their cannon commanded the whole ground down to Torgau.

Daun, conscious of the danger, had, as he heard of Ziethen's advance, sent order after order that he must at all costs be driven back; and even when the Prussians gained the position, they had still to struggle fiercely for another hour to hold it. Daun knew that, with Frederick established on one side of the position, and with Ziethen well planted upon the other and commanding the whole of it with his guns, there was nothing for it but to retreat; and already he had sent orders that a strong force should form in order of battle to repel an attack, close to the suburbs of Torgau. As soon as this disposition was effected, he ordered the retreat to commence.

Fortunately he had four bridges across the river; and he had, on the previous day, taken the precaution of sending the whole of his baggage wagons over. On occasions of this kind Daun's dispositions were always admirable, and he drew off his army across the river in excellent order; half the Prussian army knowing nothing of what was going on, and the other half being too exhausted to attempt to interfere, ignorant as they were of the position and state of Frederick's division.

Had the king known earlier what was taking place, comparatively few of the Austrian army would have got across the river. But it was not until long after the battle was done that Frederick, sitting depressed and heavy hearted, dictating his despatches in the little church seven or eight miles away, learned that what had seemed likely to terminate in a terrible disaster, had ended with a decisive victory. Daun lost in the battle twelve thousand killed and wounded, eight thousand prisoners, and forty-five cannon; while the Prussians lost between thirteen and fourteen thousand, of whom four thousand were prisoners.

It was not until nearly one o'clock in the morning that Ziethen learned that the Austrians were already across the river. Then he pushed down into Torgau, and crossed the town bridge in time to capture twenty-six pontoons.

Daun retreated by the right side of the river, Lacy by the left; and the two forces rejoined at Dresden, and took up their position, as usual, in the Plauen stronghold; while Frederick, after finishing the clearance of all Saxony save the capital, took up his winter quarters at Leipzig on the 6th of December.

The result of the battle of Torgau was not to be measured by the respective losses of the two armies. It had the effect of entirely undoing all the advantages that the Austrians had gained, throughout the campaign; and left the king in a better position than when it opened in the spring. The Russian army had been attacked and beaten, while the Austrians were shut up in their natural stronghold, near Dresden. The whole of Saxony had been recovered; and Silesia, with the exception of one or two fortresses, was still in Frederick's hands. How light hearted the king felt, after the load of care that had lain upon him had been lifted, may be judged by an extract from a letter, written a fortnight after the battle to an elderly lady of the court at Magdeburg.

"I am exact in answering, and eager to satisfy you (in that matter of the porcelain). You shall have a breakfast set, my good Mamma: six coffee-cups, very pretty, well diapered, and tricked out with all the little embellishments which increase their value. On account of some pieces which they are adding to the set, you will have to wait a few days; but I flatter myself this delay will contribute to your satisfaction, and produce for you a toy that will give you pleasure, and make you remember your old adorer. It is curious how old people's habits agree. For four years past I have given up suppers, as incompatible with the trade I am obliged to follow; and on marching days my dinners consist of a cup of chocolate.

"We hurried off like fools, quite inflated with our victory, to try if we could not chase the Austrians out of Dresden. They made a mockery of us from the tops of their mountains. So I have withdrawn, like a bad little boy, to conceal myself, out of spite, in one of the wretchedest villages in Saxony. And here the first thing will be to drive the Circle gentlemen (Reich's army) out of Freyberg into Chemnitz, and get ourselves soon to quarters, and something to live upon.

"It is, I swear to you, a hideous life; the like of which nobody but Don Quixote ever led before me. All this tumbling and toiling, and bother and confusion that never ceases, has made me so old that you would scarcely know me again. On the right side of my head the hair is all gray. My teeth break and fall out. I have got my face wrinkled like the falbalas of a petticoat, my back bent like a fiddle bow, and spirit sad and cast down like a monk of La Trappe. I forewarn you of all this lest, in case we should meet again in flesh and bone, you might feel yourself too violently shocked by my appearance. There remains to me nothing but the heart, which has undergone no change; and which will preserve, as long as I breathe, its feelings of esteem and of tender friendship for my good Mamma.

"Adieu."

Fergus knew nothing of the concluding scenes of the battle of Torgau until some little time afterwards. He was not with the king when the grenadiers first made their attack on the hill, having been despatched to find and bring up Hulsen's column. Having discovered it, he guided it through the forest to the point where Frederick was so anxiously expecting its arrival; and when it advanced, with the survivors of the grenadiers, to the second attack, he took his place behind the king. They were halfway up the ascent when a cannon ball struck him on the left arm, carrying it away just above the elbow.

As he fell from his horse, Karl, who was riding behind him, leapt from his saddle with a hoarse cry of rage. Then, seeing the nature of the wound, he lifted him in his arms, mounted Fergus's horse, and rode down through an interval between the regiments of the second line; and then into the wood, to the spot where the surgeons were dressing the wounds of those hurt in the first charge. One who had just finished attending one of the grenadiers, seeing that the trooper was carrying a colonel of the king's staff, at once helped Karl to lower him to the ground.

"You have done well to bring him down at once, my man," he said. "It may be the saving of his life."

As he spoke, he was cutting off the tunic.

"There is not much flow of blood. You see, the contusion has closed the main artery. If we can keep it from bursting out, he will do."

He took out from his case some stout tape, passed it round the arm, asked Karl for a ramrod out of one his pistols and, with this, twisted the tape until it almost cut into the skin. Then he gave a few more turns, to hold the ramrod securely in its place. Then he called a young surgeon to him.

"We had better make a good job of this, at once," he said. "This is Colonel Drummond, one of the king's favourite officers, and a most gallant young fellow. It will not take us five minutes."

The artery was first found and tied up; for Prussian surgery was, at that time, far ahead of our own. The bruised flesh was pressed up, the bone cut off neatly, above the point where it was splintered, the flesh brought down again over it and trimmed, then several thicknesses of lint put over it, and the whole carefully bandaged up.

"There," he said to Karl, as he rose from his work, "that is all that I can do for him; and unless it bursts out bleeding again, he is likely to do well. If it does, you must tighten that tape still more. All there is to do is to keep him as quiet as possible.

"Have you any spirits?"

"Yes, doctor, there is a flask in his holster."

"Mix some with as much water, and pour a little down his throat from time to time. Fold his cloak, and put it under his head. He will probably recover consciousness in a short time. When he does so, impress upon him the necessity of lying perfectly quiet. As soon as the battle is over, we must get him moved into shelter."

In half an hour Fergus opened his eyes. Karl, who was kneeling by him, placed one hand on his chest and the other on the wounded arm.

"You must not move, colonel," he said. "You have been hit, but the doctor says you will get over it; but you must lie perfectly still."

Fergus looked round in bewilderment. Then, as the roar of the battle came to his ears, he made an instinctive effort to rise.

"It is going on still," Karl said, repressing the movement. "We shall thrash them, presently; but you can do nothing more today, and you must do as the doctor bids you, sir."

"Where am I hit?"

"It is on the left arm, colonel. An Austrian cannonball did the business. If it had been three or four inches farther to the right, it would have finished you. As it is, I hope that you will soon get about again."

"Then it has taken off my arm," Fergus said feebly.

"Better that than your head, sir. The left arm is of no great account, except for holding a bridle; and there is a good bit of it left.

"Drink a little more of this brandy and water. How do you feel now, sir?"

"I feel cold," Fergus replied. "My feet are like ice."

Karl wrapped Fergus's fur-lined pelisse round his feet, undid his blanket and cloak from his saddle, and laid them over him.

"That will be better, sir. Now, if you will promise to lie quite quiet, I will fasten your horse up--I don't know what has become of mine--and will go and collect some firewood and get up a good blaze. I am afraid there is no chance of getting you into a shelter, tonight."

"I am afraid we are being driven down the hill again, Karl. The roll of musketry is coming nearer."

"That is so, colonel; but we shall have the cavalry up soon, and that will make all the difference."

Just as Karl came back with an armful of firewood, a staff officer rode up.

"The king has sent me to inquire how Colonel Drummond is," he said. "His majesty has heard that he is badly wounded, and has been carried here."

"This is the colonel, major," Karl said, leading him to the side of Fergus.

"I am sorry to see you here," the officer said. "The king has sent me to inquire after you."

"Will you thank his majesty, Major Kaulbach; and tell him that it is nothing worse than the loss of a left arm, and that the surgeon's opinion is that I shall do well. How goes the battle?"

"Badly, badly; but Holstein will be up in a quarter of an hour, and then we shall have another try. We broke their line badly, last time; and if we had had cavalry to launch at them, we should have managed the business."

"The king is unhurt, I hope."

"Not altogether. He was struck from his horse by a piece of case shot, but his pelisse saved him. He was able to mount again in a few minutes, making very light of the affair; and was in the middle of the fight, as usual. I was next you when you were hit, and I saw your orderly lift you on to your horse before him and, as soon as we got down here, reported it to the king."

"Our loss must be terribly heavy."

"Terrible! There is no saying how severe it is, yet; but not half the grenadiers are on their feet.

"There is nothing I can do for you?"

"Nothing at all. My orders are to lie still; and as I feel too weak to move, and there is no one to carry me away, and nowhere to take me to, I am not likely to disobey the order."

The officer rode off again. Karl soon had a fire lighted, sufficiently close to Fergus for him to feel its warmth. Wounded men, who had made their way down the hill, came and sat down on the other sides of it. Many other fires were lighted, as it grew dusk.

In front the battle had broken out again, as furiously as ever; and ere long wounded men began to come down again. They brought cheering news, however. The Prussians were still pressing forward, the cavalry had thrown the Austrian line into terrible confusion. No one knew exactly where any of the Prussian battalions had got to, but all agreed that things were going on well.

At five o'clock the roar gradually ceased, and soon all was quiet. The wounded now came in fast, but none could say whether the battle was won or lost; for the night was so dark that each could only speak of what had happened to his own corps.

Presently the number round the fires was swelled by the arrival of numerous Austrians, wounded and unwounded. Most of these laid their rifles by, saying:

"It is a bitter night, comrades. Will you let us have a share of the fire?"

"Come in, come in," the Prussians answered. "We are all friends for tonight, for we are all in equally bad plight. Can you tell us how matters have gone, up there?"

But these knew no more than the Prussians. They had got separated from their corps in the confusion and, losing their way altogether, had seen the glow of the fires in the forest, and had come down for warmth and shelter.

Presently Major Kaulbach rode up again.

"How have things gone, major?" Fergus asked eagerly.

"No one knows," he said. "The Austrians are broken up; and our battalions and theirs are so mixed that there is no saying where they are, or how matters will stand in the morning. The king has gone to Elsnig, two or three miles away."

"Is there no news of Ziethen?"

"None. They have just begun to fire heavily again in that direction, but what he has been doing all day, no one has any idea."

But little was said round the fires. A short distance away the surgeons were still at work with the more serious cases, while the soldiers roughly bandaged each other's wounds; but as, gradually, the distant firing increased in fury, and seemed to grow in distinctness, men who had lain down sat up to listen. There was no longer any talking, and a hush fell upon the forest.

"It is certainly coming closer, colonel," Karl said at last. "It seems that Ziethen has woke up in earnest. May the good God grant that he win his way up on to the heights!"

"If he does, we shall have the Austrians, in the morning. If he doesn't, we shall have a poor chance with them."

"I am afraid we sha'n't, colonel; but it certainly sounds as if Ziethen was making way."

At nine o'clock a cavalry officer came riding along. He drew rein at the fire.

"Can anyone tell me where I can find the king?"

"He is at Elsnig, captain," Karl said, rising and saluting. "May I ask what is the news, sir?"

"The news is good. Ziethen has gained the heights. We can see the flash of fire round the Siptitz hill."

A cheer broke from all the Prussians within hearing. There was not a man but knew that the fate of Prussia hung on the result of this battle, and for the moment wounds were forgotten. Men shook hands, with tears of joy streaming down their rugged cheeks; and as others came running up from the other fires, to know what was the news, and then hurried off again to tell their companions, the forest rang with their cheering.

All was not over yet. For a time the firing was louder and heavier than before, but towards ten o'clock news came that Ziethen was firmly established on the Siptitz hill, and that the Austrian battalions were drawing off. Then all lay down to sleep, rejoiced and thankful; and even the Austrians, disconcerted as they were, were not altogether sorry that they must now consider themselves prisoners; and free, for a long time to come, from further risk of battle.

The news, in the morning, that the Austrian army had already crossed the river and was in full retreat southwards, afforded the most intense satisfaction. There was now a hope of shelter and rest in Torgau, instead of the prospect of remaining in the forest, drenched to the skin by the rain that had come down, without intermission, for the last twenty-four hours.

An hour later Major Kaulbach again rode up, accompanied by four infantry men bearing a stretcher.

"The king has already gone on to Torgau, and he has given me orders to see that you are carried there, at once. There will be no more fighting, at present. Daun has got a long start, and there will be enough to do here, for the next twelve hours, in collecting the wounded. Lacy has retreated this side of the river, and Ziethen's cavalry started in pursuit, some hours ago."

Fergus was carefully lifted onto the litter, and carried down to Torgau; where several large houses had already been assigned for the use of wounded officers, while the soldiers were to be placed in the hospitals, public buildings, and churches, Austrians and Prussians being distributed indiscriminately; and by nightfall some twelve thousand wounded were housed in the town. A small body of troops was left there. The inhabitants undertook the charge of the wounded, and the next morning the king marched away south, with the army.

Soon after Fergus was brought in, Frederick paid a visit to the house where he had been carried, and said a few words to each of the wounded officers.

"So you are down again, Drummond. Fortune is not treating you so favourably as she used to do."

"It might have been a good deal worse, your majesty. I think that one who has got off with only the loss of his left arm has no reason to complain."

"No, it might have been worse," the king replied. "I have lost many good friends, and thousands of brave soldiers. However, I too must not complain; for it has saved Prussia.

"Don't hurry to rejoin too soon, Drummond. Another month, and we shall all be in winter quarters." _

Read next: Chapter 21. Home

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