With Frederick the Great: A Story of the Seven Years' War

by G. A. Henty

Exhausted as they were by their work, which had begun at midnight and continued until now without pause or break, not yet was their task completely done. The king, riding up the line, asked if any battalion would volunteer to follow him to Lissa, a village on the river bank. Three battalions stepped out. The landlord of the little inn, carrying a lantern, walked by the king's side.

As they approached the village, ten or twelve musket shots flashed out in the fields to the right. They were aimed at the lantern, but no one was hurt. There were other shots from Lissa, and it was evident that the village was still not wholly evacuated.

The infantry rushed forward, scattered through the fields, and drove out the lurking Croats. The king rode quietly on into the village, and entered the principal house. To his astonishment, he found it full of Austrian officers, who could easily have carried him off, his infantry being still beyond the village. They had but a small force remaining there and, believing that the Prussians had halted for the night at Saara, they were as much astonished as Frederick at his entrance. The king had the presence of mind to hide his surprise.

"Good evening, gentlemen!" he said. "Is there still room left for me, do you think?"

The Austrian officers, supposing, of course, that he had a large force outside, bowed deeply, escorted him to the best room in the house, and then slipped out at the back, collected what troops they could as they went, and hurried across the bridge. The Prussians were not long in entering, and very speedily cleared out the rest of the Austrians. They then crossed the bridge, and with a few guns followed in pursuit.

The army at Saara, on hearing the firing, betook itself again to arms and marched to the king's assistance, the twenty-five thousand men and their bands again joining in the triumphant hymn, "Nun danket alle Gott," as they tramped through the darkness. When they arrived at Lissa they found that all was safe, and bivouacked in the fields.

Never was there a greater or more surprising victory, never one in which the military genius of the commander was more strikingly shown. The Austrians were in good heart. They were excellent soldiers and brave, well provided with artillery, and strongly placed; and yet they were signally defeated by a force little over one-third their number. Had there been two more hours of daylight, the Austrians would have been not only routed but altogether crushed. Their loss was ten thousand left on the field, of whom three thousand were killed. Twelve thousand were taken prisoners, and one hundred and sixteen cannon captured.

To this loss must be added that of seventeen thousand prisoners taken when Breslau surrendered, twelve days later, together with a vast store of cannon and ammunition, including everything taken so shortly before from Bevern. Liegnitz surrendered, and the whole of Silesia, with the exception only of Schweidnitz, was again wrested from the Austrians. Thus in killed, wounded, and prisoners the loss of the Austrians amounted to as much as the total force of the Prussians.

The latter lost in killed eleven hundred and forty one, and in wounded about five thousand. Prince Maurice, upon whose division the brunt of the battle had fallen, was promoted to the rank of field marshal.

Fergus Drummond had been with the king throughout that terrible day. Until the battle began his duties had been light, being confined to the carrying of orders to Prince Maurice; after which he took his place among the staff and, dismounting, chatted with his acquaintances while Karl held his horse.