by G. A. Henty
“And to you, Thirza, do I swear to be a loving husband, to the end of my life.”
“And now,” the count said, “we will leave these young people till the bell rings,” and taking the countess’s hand, he led her into the next room.
The ten minutes that passed, before the signal for dinner was given, sufficed to do much to lessen the awkwardness of the occasion; and Fergus was heartily grateful to the count for having left them to themselves for that short time. The dinner passed off as usual, the count chatting gaily; while Fergus attempted, with indifferent success, to follow him. Thirza was very silent, but her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes radiant with happiness.
It did not escape the attention of the servants who waited that instead of, as usual, leading down the countess while the count brought down his daughter; this time the count and his wife had come down first, followed by Fergus and the young countess. Nor were they slow to notice Thirza’s flushed face.
The count’s household had been deeply interested in the visits of Fergus. The women had always been unanimous in their opinion that they would all have been murdered by the marauders, had it not been for his interposition; and had also agreed that the most proper thing in the world, after what had happened, would be that the young countess should someday marry this brave young officer. Each time that he had come, during the last four years, they had watched and hoped that they should hear that this was coming about; but hitherto they had been terribly disappointed, and had almost agreed that, if nothing came of this long visit, nothing would ever come of it. The news, therefore, brought down by the menservants excited a lively interest.
“I said all along that it would be so some day,” one of the women exclaimed. “The countess would never have allowed our young lady to be out in the garden, every afternoon, if she and the count had not been willing that there should be a match; and I am sure I don’t see how he could help falling in love with the young countess.”
“Nor she with him,” another woman added. “He is the pleasantest-looking young gentleman I have ever seen, and we know that he is one of the bravest; and though he is a Prussian officer, there is not a bit of stiffness about him. Well, I only hope it is true.”
“I would not count on it too much,” one of the older women said. “You never can take menfolks’ opinions on such matters. I am sure any of us would know with half an eye, if we saw them together, how matters stood; but as for men, they are as blind as bats in such matters. Still, the fact that he took the young countess down, instead of our lady, goes for something.”
The next morning, indeed, the news was confirmed. The countess told her tire woman, who had been Thirza’s nurse, what had happened; and in a few minutes it was known all over the house, and even the parties most concerned scarcely felt more pleasure than the women of the count’s establishment.
CHAPTER 19
Liegnitz
“I have news,” the count said, when he came in to lunch, after he had been down into the town; “a messenger has come in with a despatch this morning, saying that the king, with his army, is marching hither with all speed.”
An exclamation of alarm broke from Thirza, and one of surprise from Fergus. They had been in the garden together all the morning.
“It will be but a day or two earlier,” Fergus said in a low tone to her. “I told you that in three days, at the most, I must leave. The surgeon gave me six weeks, but I have so thoroughly recovered that I feel I ought to be with the king.”
Then he raised his voice.
“That is startling news indeed, count; but I can hardly believe that he intends to besiege Dresden. He has no siege guns with him, and though, I suppose, he has as usual got a start of Daun, he can hardly hope to capture the city before the Austrians come up. At any rate, I must ride out and report myself, and join him as soon as he gets close. It is hard, indeed, at this moment. Still, there is no question but that it is my duty.”
“I see that, and I am sure that Thirza would not wish to keep you from it. As long as you are a soldier, duty is the first thing. However, as the king is coming hither, we shall doubtless see you sometimes. As we are half a mile outside the walls, we shall be within the besieging lines.”
“I hope that if the king besieges, count, it will not be on this side, for you might be exposed to shot from the town batteries.”
“If we are so, we must move beyond their range and go to our place at Wirzow. That is but twelve miles away. It is a small house, but will do very well for a time.”
“I should hope, count, that there will be no occasion for that. The king cannot hope to lay siege in regular form, though he may try an assault. Slow as Daun is, he must be here within ten days or so of Frederick’s arrival; and it is probable that the march here is intended rather to draw Daun away from his Russian allies, than with any hope of taking Dresden.”
“Will you go this afternoon?”
“I think that I ought to, count. If the news has come that Frederick is marching to besiege Dresden, he cannot be far away; for it is certain that he will march as fast as he can, and will himself follow closely on the news. ’Tis plain that Lacy feels himself unable to oppose him, and must be falling back with all speed before him. If I were to report myself this evening as convalescent, I can join him tomorrow, if I find that he is but a march away.”
“I will take you in my carriage, as before,” the count said. “I can get back here before dark.”
Two hours later they started, Thirza consoled to some extent by the assurance that, in all probability, Fergus would be back again in the course of two or three days. They found that the Austrian advanced posts had already been withdrawn, and experienced no difficulty with the Prussians; so that by five o’clock they arrived at the hospital, the count at once starting on his return journey.
Karl was delighted at seeing his master looking himself again.
“I hardly thought that a month could do so much for you,” he said, “especially as you were mending but slowly, before you went.”
“Yes, I was a poor creature then, Karl; and I did not think, myself, that I should be really fit for work for some time to come; but at any rate, in such weather as this, I have no fear of breaking down.”
Putting on his uniform, he went to the principal medical officer, and reported his return and his fitness for duty.
“You have certainly gained strength a great deal faster than I expected, Colonel Drummond. I don’t know that you are fit for any really hard work, but I suppose that you will be at least a week before you join the king; and by that time you may be able to do a fair amount of work.”
“I fancy I shall join the king tomorrow, doctor.”
“Tomorrow?” the surgeon repeated in surprise.
“Yes, sir. Have you not heard the news? The king is marching with all speed this way. I do not know what his intention is—to force Lacy to give battle single handed before Daun can arrive, or to besiege Dresden—but in the city they believe that they are going to be besieged.”
“This is news indeed,” the surgeon said. “The scouts brought in word this morning that a considerable force was seen, coming along the road from Bautzen. It must be Lacy’s army.”
“We may be sure that the king is pretty close at his heels,” Fergus said. “I have no doubt that by tomorrow morning we shall have news of him, and I fancy that I shall not have far to ride to join him.”
The opinion was justified. That evening Lacy joined the Confederate army, in their strong position behind the gap of Plauen. He had been hotly chased, indeed. Frederick had been manoeuvring to pass Daun and carry on a campaign in Silesia; but the Austrian general had been too cautious, and it was impossible to pass him without fighting; so on the night of the 8th he left Bautzen suddenly and silently, and marched all night, in hopes of catching Lacy at Godau. The latter’s Croats, however, brought him news in time, and he at once retreated.
After a short halt the Prussians pressed on for another eighteen miles, capturi
ng some of Lacy’s hussars, but failing to come up with his main body; which, marching all that day and the next night, arrived near Dresden on the morning of the 10th, Lacy himself reaching the town the evening before. By Thursday evening the whole of his army had crossed Dresden bridge and got in safely behind Plauen, leaving ten thousand men to aid the four thousand in the garrison.
At noon Fergus, hearing that, without doubt, the whole of the enemy had fallen back, started with Karl; and that evening rode into the royal camp, and reported himself to the king.
“I am glad to see you back, Drummond,” Frederick said heartily. “I have sorely missed you; and indeed, when I rode away the accounts of you were so bad that I doubted whether you would ever be able to be with me again. You don’t look quite yourself yet, but no doubt the air and exercise will soon bring you round. Have you any news?”
“Lacy has left ten thousand men in Dresden, sire, and with the rest of his force has joined the Confederate army at Plauen.”
“Just what I wished,” the king said. “It has saved me a long march, and we will now go straight to Dresden.”
The next day the army marched forward, circled round the western and southern sides of Dresden, and encamped at Gruna, a mile to the southeast of the city; and throughout the night laboured at getting up batteries. The division under Holstein was planted on an eminence on the other side of the river, across which a pontoon bridge was at once thrown. There was no fear of disturbance from Lacy, the united force of the enemy having retreated to the old Saxon camp at Pirna. The king, after seeing the batteries marked out, retired to bed early; and Fergus was able to ride round and pay a short visit to the count.
On the 14th the batteries opened fire—Maguire having refused the summons to surrender—and continued for four days without making much impression upon the walls, the heaviest guns being only twenty-five pounders.
On the 18th some heavy guns arrived from Magdeburg. The batteries were all ready for them, and as soon as they arrived they were set to work. Maguire burnt the suburbs outside the town, and answered the cannonade hotly.
Finding that the guns on the walls did but little damage to the Prussian batteries, Maguire mounted two or three guns on to the leads of the Protestant church, and from this commanding position he was able to throw shot right into them. The Prussian fire was at once concentrated on the church, which was speedily set on fire. This spread through the surrounding streets, and a tremendous conflagration raged for the next forty-eight hours. But by this time Daun, who had lost some days before setting out in pursuit of Frederick, was within five miles of the town, had driven Holstein across the river, and was in communication with Maguire.
On the night of the 21st-22nd Maguire’s garrison, led by General Nugent, sallied out from Dresden; while four thousand of Daun’s men marched round from the north side. For a time the assault on the Prussian intrenchments was successful, although Nugent was, on his first attack, repulsed and taken prisoner. But when Daun’s people arrived the regiments defending the trenches were driven out. Then fresh battalions came up and drove the Austrians out, taking many prisoners.
Daun remained passive for some days after this, and Frederick continued to cannonade the city until the 29th; making, however, his preparations for departure, and going off unmolested by the enemy towards Meissen. The news reached him that Glatz, one of the barrier fortresses of Silesia, had been taken by Loudon, and that the latter was besieging Breslau.
Daun had guessed the way by which Frederick would retire, and had broken up the roads and bridges, and felled trees in the forests so as to render them impassable; and as soon as Frederick started he moved in the same direction, his position so serving him that, marching by a road parallel to that taken by the king, he was ahead of him. Lacy had been warned to be prepared, and he too started with his army, so that the three forces moved eastward at a comparatively short distance apart.
Although hampered by the obstacles in their way, and by a train of two thousand wagons, the Prussians moved rapidly and covered a hundred miles in five days. Daun made what was, for him, prodigious efforts also, and kept the lead he had gained.
On the 7th of August Frederick was thirty miles west of Liegnitz. Here he halted for a day, and on the 9th marched to the Katzbach valley, only to find that Daun was securely posted on the other side of the river, and Lacy on the hills a few miles off. The next morning Frederick marched down the bank of the Katzbach to Liegnitz, Daun keeping parallel with him on the other side of the river.
Knowing that Daun had been joined during the night by Loudon, and that they were vastly too strong to be attacked, Frederick started at eleven at night, and at daybreak was back on his old camping ground. He crossed the river, hoping to be able to fall upon Lacy; but the latter had moved off, and Frederick, pressing on, would have got fairly ahead of his enemies if it had not been for the heavy baggage train, which delayed him for five hours; and by the time it came up he found that Lacy, Daun, and Loudon were all round him again.
The situation seemed desperate. The army had but four days’ provisions left, and a scout sent out on the 12th reported that the roads over the hills were absolutely impassable for baggage. At eight o’clock the army set out again, recrossed the Katzbach, and again made for Liegnitz, which they reached after a sixteen hours’ march. Here the king halted for thirty hours, and his three enemies gathered round him again.
They were ninety thousand strong, while he was but thirty. Daun made elaborate reconnaissances, and Frederick had no doubt that he would be attacked, that night or early the next morning. After dark the army marched quietly away, and took up its position on the heights of Torberger, its fires being left burning brightly, with two drummers to beat occasionally.
Daun’s and Lacy’s fires were clearly visible; but they, like his own, were deserted, both having marched to catch him, as they hoped, asleep at Liegnitz; but it chanced that Loudon had been ordered to take post just where Frederick had halted, and his troops came suddenly upon the Prussians in the dark.
A battalion was despatched at once, with some cannon, to seize the crest of the Wolfberg. Loudon, whose work was to prevent Frederick from flying eastward, had hurried forward; his scouts having informed him that a number of the Prussian baggage waggons were passing, and hoped to effect a capture of them; and he was vastly surprised when, instead of finding the baggage guard before him, he was received with a tremendous musketry fire and volleys of case shot.
He at once rallied his troops and, with five battalions in front, dashed forward. He was repulsed, but returned to the attack three times. He kept edging round towards the right, to take Frederick in flank; but the Prussians also shifted their ground, and met him. The Austrian cavalry poured down again and again, and fresh battalions of infantry were continually brought up.
At last Loudon felt that the contest was hopeless, and fell back across the Katzbach. The Prussians captured six thousand of his men before they could get across the river, four thousand were killed and wounded, and eighty-two cannons captured. Thus his army of thirty-five thousand strong had been wrecked by the Prussian left wing, numbering fifteen thousand; the rest of the Prussian forces, under Ziethen, keeping guard lest Daun and Lacy should come on to aid him. Daun, however, was miles away, intent upon catching Frederick; and did not know until morning that his camp had been deserted, and Loudon beaten.
As soon as he was assured of this, he poured his cavalry across the river, but Ziethen’s cannon drove them back again; and he saw that, with Ziethen standing in order of battle, in a commanding position, with his guns sweeping the bridges, he could do nothing.
Frederick remained four hours on the battlefield, collected five thousand muskets lying on the field and, with the six thousand prisoners, his wounded, and newly-captured cannon, marched away at nine o’clock in the morning.
A Russian force of twenty-four thousand still blocked the way; but, desirous above all things to effect a junction with Prince Henry, Frederick got rid of th
em, by sending a peasant with instructions to let himself be taken by the Russians. The slip of paper he carried contained the words:
“Austrians totally beaten this day. Now for the Russians, dear brother, and swift. Do what we have agreed upon.”
The ruse had its effect. The Russian general, believing that Frederick and Prince Henry were both about to fall upon him, retreated at once, burning the bridge behind him; and the king pushed on to Breslau, which he reached on the 16th; having, thanks to the wonderful marching of his troops, and his own talent, escaped as if by a miracle from what seemed certain destruction.
For a fortnight Frederick remained encamped, at a short distance from Breslau, waiting to see what Daun and Soltikoff intended to do. Daun was busy urging the Russians to come on. Soltikoff was sulky that Daun had failed in all his endeavours, and that the brunt of the affair was likely, again, to fall on him and his Russians.
Elsewhere things had gone more favourably for the king. Ferdinand of Brunswick had now twenty thousand British with him, and fifty thousand Hanoverians and Brunswickers; while the French army under Broglio was one hundred and thirty thousand strong. A check was first inflicted on the French at Korbach and, a few days later, an English cavalry regiment and a battalion of Scotch infantry cut up or captured a brigade of French dragoons.
On the 29th of July, as Frederick was leaving Dresden, a serious engagement took place at Warburg. Here Broglio’s rear guard of thirty thousand infantry and cavalry, under the Chevalier du Muy, were attacked; in the first place by a free corps called the British Legion, composed of men of many nationalities, who turned Du Muy’s right wing out of Warburg. Then the Prince of Brunswick fell upon the whole French line, and the fight was a stubborn one for two or three hours, Maxwell’s British brigade fighting most obstinately. They were greatly outnumbered, but were presently joined by Lord Granby, at the head of the English cavalry, and these decided the battle.