“One evening,” writes Carlyle, “among the orders is heard this item: ‘And remember a lock of straw, will you, that I may not have to sleep upon the ground, as last night!’ Many anecdotes are current to this day about his pleasant, homely ways, and affabilities with the sentry people, and the rugged hospitalities they would show him at their watch-fires. ‘Good evening, children.’ ‘The same to thee, Fritz.’ ‘What is that you are cooking?’—and would try a spoonful of it, in such company; while the rough fellows would forbid smoking. ‘Don’t you know he dislikes it?’ ‘No! smoke away,’ the king would insist.”
General Loudon was in command of the Austrians, and General Butturlin of the Russians, who were arrayed against Frederick. They could not agree upon a plan of attack. Neither commander was willing to expose his troops to the brunt of a battle in which the carnage would necessarily be dreadful. Thus the weeks wore away. Frederick could not be safely attacked, and winter was approaching.
At ten o’clock at night on the 9th of September, the Russian camp went up in flame. The next morning not a Russian was to be seen. The whole army had disappeared over the hills far away to the north. Frederick immediately dispatched eight thousand men under General Platen to attack the flank of the retreating foe, and destroy his baggage-wagons. The feat was brilliantly accomplished. On the 15th of September, before the dawn of the morning, General Platen fell upon the long train, took nearly two thousand prisoners, seven cannon, and destroyed five thousand heavily-laden wagons.
Frederick remained at Bunzelwitz a fortnight after the retreat of the Russians. In the mean time the French and English were fighting each other with varying success upon the banks of the Rhine. It is not necessary to enter into the details of their struggles. Frederick’s magazines at Schweidnitz were getting low. On the 26th of September he broke up his camp at Bunzelwitz, and in a three days’ march to the southeast reached Neisse. The Austrians did not venture to annoy him. Frederick had scarcely reached Neisse when he learned, to his amazement and horror, that General Loudon, with a panther-like spring, had captured Schweidnitz, with its garrison and all its supplies. It was a terrible blow to the king. The Austrians could now winter in Silesia. The anguish of Frederick must have been great. But he gave no utterance to his gloomy forebodings.
“The king,” writes Küster, “fell ill of the gout, saw almost nobody, never came out. It was whispered that his inflexible heart was at last breaking. And for certain there never was in his camp and over his dominions such a gloom as in this October, 1761, till at length he appeared on horseback again, with a cheerful face; and every body thought to himself, ‘Ha! the world will still roll on, then.’”
Frederick’s treatment of the unfortunate General Zastrow, who was in command at Schweidnitz, was quite peculiar. Very generously he wrote to him:
“My dear General Von Zastrow,—The misfortune which has befallen me is very grievous. But what consoles me in it is to see by your letter that you have behaved like a brave officer, and that neither you nor your garrison have brought disgrace or reproach upon yourselves. I am your well-affectioned king.
“Frederick.
“P.S.—You may, in this occurrence, say what Francis I., after the battle of Pavia, wrote to his mother: ‘All is lost except honor.’ As I do not yet completely understand the affair, I forbear to judge of it, for it is altogether extraordinary.”
Notwithstanding this letter, Frederick refused to give General Zastrow any further employment, but left him to neglect, obscurity, and poverty. Zastrow wrote to the king imploring a court-martial. He received the following laconic reply:
“It is of no use. I impute nothing of crime to you. But after such a mishap it would be dangerous to trust you with any post or command.”
The freezing gales of winter soon came, when neither army could keep the open field. Frederick established his winter quarters at Breslau. General Loudon, with his Austrians, was about thirty miles southwest of him at Kunzendorf. Thus ended the sixth campaign.