The King was forced to remain inactive for three weeks in this distressing situation, for the combined Russian and Austrian forces were stretched out until they shut him in on all sides. He was in a critical condition. His stores were giving out and his troops were getting uneasy. He resolved therefore to risk a decisive stroke. It was fortunate for him that Laudon did not have supreme command, else he would have been crushed. The larger part of the army was under command of the Russian Field-Marshal Butterlin, who disliked Laudon and frequently quarrelled with him. This of course prevented coöperation. If one favored attacking, the other would refuse; if one gave an order to assault at a certain point, the other would issue an exactly contrary order. In this dissension lay the possibility of the King’s escape, though he did not know it, for he had never heard even a hint of their enmity. His situation appeared to him desperate enough. Whichever way he turned he saw no prospect of escape. This greatly disturbed him. With an anxious heart he often hurried to old Zieten’s little hut for consolation. This brave general confidently looked for better days in the future. His devotion and loyalty to the King never permitted him to doubt the success of his undertakings. In sheer desperation, the King would often say: “It cannot be done; it is impossible.”
Whenever he said this, Zieten would reply: “Have courage, Your Majesty. Everything will come out right.” Once he said this with so much assurance that the King quickly asked: “Have you secured the help of some new allies?”
“No,” replied the general, “only our old help from above, which will never forsake us.”
“Ah!” sighed the King, “the days of miracles are over.”
“There is no need of miracles,” replied the pious old hero. “He is on our side and will not let us be defeated.”
Brave Zieten spoke truly, for three weeks afterward the Russians suddenly broke camp and departed. The cause was partly the disagreement between Butterlin and Laudon, but the principal reason for the sudden exit was the difficulty of procuring subsistence for man and beast. Silesia had been the scene of war so long and had been so ravaged that its people had to kill most of their animals for food and had been living for some time in a most wretched plight. It was manifestly impossible therefore to feed this great army. To save his, the Russian general had no alternative but to break camp and hurry off to Poland. How delighted was the King when he saw that he was freed from the enemy’s investment! It was with a strange feeling he left the prison from which he had never expected to escape alive.
The close of the year, however, brought fresh trouble. The fortress of Schweidnitz, in Silesia, at last fell into the hands of the Austrians, and this strengthened the Russian force at Colberg, in the East. Frederick’s immediate situation was not very enviable in any sense, for there had been a lack of subsistence for his troops for a long time, resulting in general discontent as well as disobedience. His financial resources were also well-nigh exhausted. But what made him most despondent was the great shrinkage of his numerical strength and the apparent impossibility of making it good. It was no longer possible to maintain discipline among his troops after they had been reduced to the bare necessities. The Garde du Corps and gens d’armes, who had been most loyally devoted to the King, now loudly asserted that if they were attacked, they would surrender. Such was the spiritless condition of his army! Is it any wonder the King was dejected as he contemplated the situation? Only his feeling of duty and his love for the Fatherland helped him to bear this heavy burden of trouble and care. In a letter written immediately after the taking of Schweidnitz, he says:
“This painful duty of service to the Fatherland is a heavy burden. With sadness I see its glory dimmed, its people despairing of deliverance, and devastation everywhere. Fatherland! Beloved name! Thy sorrows have moved me to devote the last remaining energies of my unfortunate life to thy rescue. Away with fruitless complaints—I will again take the field. Patriotism inspires me. A new day is dawning. I will revenge the State and end its troubles. I will forget my own distress and think only of it. My strong arm shall be its support. Notwithstanding his inclinations one must swim with the current, die for Fatherland, or accomplish his purposes.”
Chapter XIII
The Dawn of Peace
The King entered upon another year with serious anxiety, for he could not escape the conviction that the longer the war continued the worse was his situation. His army was continually dwindling away. The old and tried troops, with which he had almost done wonders at the beginning of field operations, were now nearly all gone. His former sources of money had also run dry. Saxony, which until now had helped him greatly with its generous contributions, had paid out its last mark, and Prussia was so utterly exhausted that it could do nothing in any direction. With the enemy it was different. They confronted him with renewed strength and increased numbers. The combination of the two great armies was the most serious danger to his small force. It was by this combination that the fall of Schweidnitz was hastened. Frederick saw no prospect of victory anywhere, and yet the truth of his saying, “When necessity is greatest, help is nearest,” was confirmed at that very time.