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

by G. A. Henty

The harvest having been gathered in, the cavalry rode across the open country, thus reducing the length of the column. The day was very hot, and the infantry opened their ranks, as much as possible, to allow the passage of what little air was moving. At nine o'clock the troops were halted. Each man had been served with a breakfast, before starting; and the haversacks were now opened, and a meal made of the bread they contained, washed down with an allowance of rough wine, carried in each regimental waggon. Then the men sat down, under the shade of greatcoats supported by ramrods and other contrivances, and either slept or talked until half-past two; when the bugle sounded. The greatcoats were rolled up and strapped on to the knapsacks, then there was a vigorous use of the brush, to remove the thick dust gathered on the march. At three the column got into motion again, and halted for the night at half-past six; when fires were lighted, coppers put on, and the main meal of the day presently served.

The rations of the officers were the same as those of the men, but the greater part of them supplemented the food by that carried in their orderlies' saddlebags. Lindsay, Fergus, and the marshals other two aides-de-camp had arranged that, when possible, they should mess together; and their servants should prepare the meal by turns, while those not so engaged looked after the horses, saw that they were fed, watered, and groomed. The servants were all old campaigners, and though neither Lindsay nor Fergus had thought of giving them orders to that effect, both Donald and Karl had laid in a stock of provisions.

Donald had cooked a pair of fowls on the previous evening. Karl had bought a sucking pig. One of the German officer's servants had a huge piece of salt beef, that had already been boiled, while the other had a hare. It was agreed at once that the fowls should be left for early breakfast; and the beef put aside for dinner, and for supper, also, if nothing else could be obtained. Karl, as the servant of the junior officer, was cook for the evening, and he acquitted himself admirably.

Each officer carried in his saddlebag a tin plate, a drinking horn, and a knife, fork, and spoon. There was no dish, but the spit was handed round, and each cut off a portion. Soup made from the ration of meat was first served, then the hare, and then the sucking pig, while the four orderlies had an ample meal from the ration of meat. A supply of spirits had been carried in the staff waggon. This they took, plentifully watered, with the meal; with a stronger cup afterwards.

The night was so fine that all agreed that it was not worthwhile to erect the tent carried for them in the waggon. At eight o'clock the order for the next day's march came out, and two of the king's orderlies started on horseback with copies of it to the commanders of brigades, who in their turn communicated to the colonels of their respective regiments.

The next evening the force encamped round Torgau, a very strong fortress, where a great store of provisions had been collected. Ample quarters were assigned to the marshal and his staff in the town. Here they halted for a day to allow the other armies, which had both farther to march, to keep abreast of them on their respective lines of route.

Then, following the Elbe, the army arrived after two marches in front of Dresden. The court of Saxony had, for years, been wasting the revenues of the country in extravagance and luxury; while intriguing incessantly with Austria, and dreaming of obtaining an increase of territory at the expense of Prussia. No effort had been made to prepare to carry out the engagements entered into with Austria; and the army, utterly neglected, numbered but some fifteen thousand. These were scattered over the country, and but poorly provided with artillery.

When, then, the news arrived that three Prussian armies had crossed the frontier, there was no thought of resistance; but orders were despatched for the whole force to concentrate at Pirna, a strongly fortified camp among the defiles of the mountains separating Saxony from Bohemia. The position was almost an impregnable one, and they could receive reinforcements from Bohemia.

On the arrival of the Prussian army the king fled, and Dresden threw open its gates. As Frederick hoped to detach Saxony from the alliance against him, the greater portion of the army were encamped outside the town; three or four regiments, only, marching in and quartering themselves in the empty Saxon barracks. The aid Saxony could render Frederick would be insignificant, but it was most desirable for him that he should ensure its neutrality, in order to secure his communications with Prussia when he marched forward into Bohemia.

Finding the king had gone, his first step was to send a general officer, with a party of soldiers, to seize the archives in the palace. Among these was discovered the prize he most desired to find; namely a signed copy of the secret treaty, between Austria, Russia, France, and Saxony, for the invasion and partition of Prussia. Copies of this document were instantly sent off to the courts of Europe, thus affording an ample justification for what would otherwise have appeared a wholly unprovoked attack by Prussia upon her neighbours. Had it not been for the discovery of this document, Frederick would probably have always remained under the stigma of engaging in an unprovoked and ambitious war; for the court of Austria had hitherto, positively and categorically, declared to Frederick's ambassador and envoys the non-existence of any such treaty or agreement between the powers.