While in pursuit of the enemy, Frederick with a little band of soldiers approached Lissa. Before arriving he learned that it swarmed with Austrians. The King ordered a halt, reined up his horse, and sent one of his aides back with instructions to bring up the Manteuffel and Wedell battalions of grenadiers, which had been left behind at the last moment, and to say to them that he was so well satisfied with their bravery, they should spend the night with him at his headquarters in Lissa, and every man beside should have a thaler. It was a good half-hour before the two battalions came up, and when they did he placed himself at their head and boldly rode into Lissa, where everything was quiet, although lights were seen in the houses on all sides. As the King, who appeared familiar with the place, rode into the spacious plaza near the castle, and about sixty paces from the bridge across the Schweidnitz, he noticed white-coats coming out of several of the houses with straw on their backs. Most of them were caught by the Prussian grenadiers, and some were brought before the King. When asked what they were doing, one of them replied:
“A captain holds the other end of the bridge with one hundred and fifty men. He was ordered to strew the bridge with straw and set it afire as soon as the Prussians approached. So many townspeople have crossed, however, that the straw was trampled down in the mud and mire, and the captain threw it into the water and sent forty men to the stables to fetch fresh straw.”
Some of the white-coats in the meantime had stolen away and notified the captain of the arrival of the Prussians, and while the King was talking with the prisoners he opened a brisk fire, by which some of the grenadiers in the rear of the King were wounded. Great confusion followed. The artillerists cried, “Back! back! we are fired upon!” Those on horseback rode near the houses, so as not to expose themselves to the fire of friend and enemy in the windows. The Prussian artillery opened fire at once, and the grenadiers also joined in. The entire city was in alarm. The Prussians were exposed to a brisk fire from the houses, to which they promptly replied. The tumult was great, and shouts and commands were confusedly mixed. The King, however, remarked with the utmost composure: “Gentlemen, follow me. I am no stranger here.” Thereupon he rode to the left over the drawbridge leading to the castle, followed by a few of his officers. He had hardly arrived at the castle entrance when several Austrian officers and attendants, with lanterns in their hands, ran down the steps and made an effort to get to their horses in the castle yard and escape under cover of the darkness. The King, dismounting, quietly confronted them and said: “Good-evening, gentlemen. Evidently you were not expecting me. Is there no room left for me?”
It would have been easy for them to have overpowered Frederick if they had had the courage, but the suddenness of his appearance and the confident tone of his voice so completely dazed them that they took the lanterns from the hands of their attendants, lit the King up the stairs, and escorted him to one of the finest of the rooms. The most distinguished of the Austrian officers introduced his comrades to the King, by name and rank, and all joined in agreeable conversation. During this time more Prussian officers arrived at the castle, fearing the King might be in danger; but they found him enjoying himself mightily. He finally took leave of the Austrian officers, however, and they sought quarters in other rooms of the spacious castle.
“Good evening, gentlemen, evidently you were not expecting me”
That same night the King’s entire army arrived at Lissa, having been ordered there by mistake. By this time the Prussians had taken a great number of prisoners. Zieten scoured the neighborhood with his hussars, and drove the fugitives even into Bohemia, and pressed the enemy so closely that out of eighty thousand men only about seventeen thousand reached the Bohemian frontier. The King followed, and soon overtook Zieten by a shorter route.
Chapter VI
The Siege of Olmütz
The year 1757, which had been so abundant in Prussian victories, drew to its close. Without remaining longer in Bohemia, the King made a forced march into Silesia,—where several cities and strongholds had again fallen into the enemy’s hands,—not alone to drive the enemy out at that unfavorable season, but for the more important purpose of seeking winter quarters. As the Prussians were continually harassed on the march by the enemy’s skirmishers, the King ordered night marches, so as to ensure the security of the sutlers’ stores and baggage from the marauders. After marching all night, the army would halt at daybreak, the cavalry dismount, and the infantry sleep as much as possible under the circumstances. One morning the King, after dismounting, said: “How nice it would be if we had some schnapps!” Several, who had bread and brandy, rushed up to him and offered him their little store.
The King smiled with genuine satisfaction at the generosity and self-sacrificing spirit of his soldiers, and said: “Children, if I could drink brandy I would take it with pleasure. But I thank you for your love, and will not forget this day which has been such a happy one for us all.” Then he turned to his staff, and said: “There is no happier King in the world than I.” He ordered Lieutenant-Colonel Von Wacknitz to make a list of his guards, and at Breslau a Friedrich d’or[13] was given to each man. Notwithstanding these fatiguing marches, the King found his soldiers so eager for active duty that he decided to take advantage of their enthusiasm and attack the enemy without delay. Breslau, with its strong garrison of sixteen thousand men, surrendered, and this placed the King once more in possession of all Silesia except Schweidnitz. He now permitted his brave troops to go into winter quarters, as they so well deserved, while he spent the Winter in Breslau.