frederick the great and his family-第75章
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him。 He had seen the king standing in the midst of the thickest shower of balls； when his two adjutants fell at his side。 At last； a ball came and wounded the king's horsethe Vogelso fearfully； that the brave steed fell。 Frederick mounted another horse； but remained upon the same spot； a second ball wounded this horse； and the king quietly mounted that of Captain Gotzen。 At this moment； a bullet struck the king in the breast； but the golden etui which the king carried in his pocket； had turned it aside； and thus saved his life。 In vain had the generals and adjutants entreated him to leave this place； and think of his personal safety。 His answer was〃We must seek； at this point； to win the battle。 I must do my duty here with the rest。〃 ＇Footnote： The king's own words。See Thiebault； p。 214。＇
Many voices cried out〃Where is the king now？〃
The courier did not answer； but the question was so fiercely； so stormily repeated； that he was compelled to go on。
〃The king； in the midst of the confusion and horror of the flight； had called him； and commanded him to gallop to Berlin； and bear the fatal news to Minister Herzberg。 He had then galloped by him； exactly against the enemy； as if he wished their balls to strike him； a little troop of his most faithful soldiers had followed！〃
〃The king is lost！ the king is a prisonerwoundedperhaps dead！〃 cried the terrified people。
Suddenly； the mad tumult was interrupted by loud shouts of joy； which swelled and thundered like an avalanche from the other side of the square。 A fifth courier had arrived； and brought the news of the complete defeat of the Russians； and a glorious Prussian victory。 Now； one of those memorable； wondrousgrand scenes took place； which no earthly phantasy could contrive or prepare； to which only Providence could give form and color。 As if driven by the storm… winds of every powerful earthly passion； this great sea of people fluctuated here and there。 At one point； thousands were weeping over the news which the unhappy messenger had brought。 Near by； thousands were huzzaing and shouting over the joyful intelligence brought by the fifth courier； while those who had been near enough to the fourth courier to understand his words； turned aside to give the sad news to those who were afar off。 Coming at the same time from the other side； they were met by a mighty mass of men； who announced； with glad cries； the news of victory； brought by the fifth courier。 Here you could see men； with their arms raised to heaven； thanking God for the hardly…won victory。 A little farther on； pale； frightened creatures； motionless； bowed down； and grief…stricken。 Here were women； with glowing cheeks and sparkling eyes； shouting over their hero king。 There； the people wept and moaned； their king had disappeared； was a prisoner； or dead。 As at the Tower of Babel； the people spoke in a thousand tongues； and no one listened to another； every one was lostblinded by his own passionate hopes and fears。
At last the two couriers were called upon to come face to face and decide these important questions。 Strong men lifted them upon their shoulders and brought them together； a profound and fearful silence ensued； every man felt that he stood upon the eve of a mighty revelation； fifty thousand men were waiting breathlessly for news of happiness beyond compare； or of unspeakable woe。 The conversation of the two horsemen standing upon the shoulders of their townsmen was quick and laconic。
〃At what hour did the king send you off？〃 said the fourth courier to the fifth。
〃At six。 The king himself commissioned me〃
〃Where stood our army at that time？〃 said the fourth courier。
〃They stood before the hollow ground； and the Russians had withdrawn to the intrenchments of Zudenberg； we had taken a hundred and twenty cannon； and many of our soldiers were wandering about the battle… field looking at the batteries they had taken。〃 ＇Footnote： Bodman。＇
〃Yes；〃 said the fourth courier； sadly； 〃that was at six； but at seven we were in full flight。 Loudon had risen from the ground； and the frightened； conquered Russians had recovered themselves。 You left at six； I at eight； I have ridden more rapidly than you。 Unhappily； I am right； the battle is lost！〃
〃The battle is lost！〃 howled the people； 〃the king is also lost！ Woe！ woe！〃
At this moment the royal equipages were seen making their way slowly through the crowd； and the advance guard were praying the people to open a way for the travelling carriages to reach the castle。 These words excited new alarm。 〃We are lost！ Let us fly； let us fly！ The court； the queen； and the princesses fleelet us save ourselves！ The Russians will come to Berlinthey will annihilate us。 We are deserted and lost； lost！no one knows where our king is！〃
As if driven by madness； the crowds rushed against each other； like the sea when it divides； and in billowy streams pours itself out here and there； and the cry of anguish which now rang out from the castle square； found its echo in every street and every house。
CHAPTER XI。
AFTER THE BATTLE。
The cannon were silenced； the discharges of musketry had ceased。 On the great plain of Kunersdorf； where； a few hours before； a bloody battle had been raging； all was quiet。 Could this be called repose？ How cruel was the tranquillity which rested now upon this fearful battle…field！
It was the peace of deaththe stillness which the awful messenger of Heaven presses as a sign and seal of his love upon the pale lips of the dead。 Happy they whose immortal spirits were quickly wafted away by the dread kissthey no longer suffer。 Woe to those who yet live； though they belong to death； and who lie surrounded by grinning corpses！ The cold bodies of their comrades are the pillows upon which they lay their bloody heads。 The groans of the dying form the awful melody which awakes them to consciousness； and the； starry sky of this clear； transparent summer night is the only eye of love which bows down to them and looks upon them in their agony。
Happy those whom the murderous sword and the crushing ball carried off in an instant to the land of spirits！ Woe； woe to those lying upon the battle…field； living； breathing； conscious of their defeat and of their great agony！ Woe！ woe！ for they hear the sound of the tramping and neighing of horsesthey come nearer and nearer。 The moon throws the long； dark shadows of those advancing horse…men over the battle…field。 It is fearful to see their rash approach； spurring over thousands of pale corpses； not regarding the dying； who breathe out their last piteous sighs under the hoofs of these wild horses。
The Cossack has no pity； he does not shudder or draw back from this monstrous open grave； which has received thousands of men as if they were one great corpse。 The Cossack has come to rob and to plunder； he spares neither friend nor foe。 He is the heir of the dead and of the dying； and he has come for his inheritance。 If he sees a ring sparkling upon the hand of a grinning corpse； he springs from his horse and tears it off。 If his greedy； cruel eye rests upon a rich uniform he seizes it； he tears it off from the bleeding； wounded body； no matter whether it is dead or still breathing and rattling。
Look at that warrior who； groaning with anguish； his limbs torn to pieces； bleeding from a thousand wounds； is lying in an open grave； he is wounded to death； he still holds his sword in his left hand his right arm has been torn off by a cannon…ball； a shot that he might not be trampled upon by the horses' hoofs； they are forced to leave him in the hands of God and to the mercy of man。
But the Cossack knows no mercy。 That is a word he has never heard in his Russian home； he has no fear of God before his eyeshe fears the Czar and his captain； and above all other things； he fears the knout。 He knows nothing of pity； for it has never been shown him how then should he exercise it？
When the Cossack saw the Prussian officer in his gold…embroidered uniform； he sprang from his horse and threw the bridle over him； a shrill whistle told the wild steed； the Cossack's better half； that he must stand still。 He sprang into the grave where the Prussian warrior； the German poet； was laid to rest。 Yes； a great German poet lies therea poet by the grace of God。 All Germany knows him； 〃their songster of the spring。〃 All Germany had read and been inspired by his lays。 The Austrian and the Saxon considered the Prussian Major Ewald von Kleist their enemy； but they loved and admired the poet； Ewald von Kleist。 The people are never enemies to poesy； and even politics are silent before her melodious voice。
There he lies； the gallant warrior； the inspired； noble poet； his broken eyes are turned to heaven； his blue； cold lips are opened and wearily stammering a few disconnected words。 Perhaps he thinks in this last hour of the last words of his last poem。 Perhaps his stiffening lips murmured these words which his mangled hand had written just before the battle：
〃Death for one's fatherland is ever honorable。 How gladly will I die that noble death When my destiny calls！〃
Yes； death might have been beautiful； but fate is never propitious to German poets。 It would have been noble and sweet to die in the wild tumult of battle； under the sound of trumpets； amid the shouts of victory； sweet thus； with a smile upon the lip to yield up the immortal spirit。
Ewald von Kleist； the German poet； received his death…wound upon the field of battle； but he did not die there； he lives； he knows that the battle is lost； that his blood has been shed in vain。 The Cossack has come down into his gravewith greedy eyes he gazes at the rich booty。 This bleeding； mangled bodythis is to the Cossack not a man； it is only a uniform which is his； with hands trembling with greed he tears it from the quivering； bleeding form。 What to him is the death…rattle and the bloodeven the bloody shirt dying frame。 ＇Footnote： 〃History of the Seven Years' War。〃Thiebault； 363。＇ The Prussian warrior； the German poet； lay there naked； his own blood alone covered his wounded body； wrapped it in a purple mantle； worthy of the poet's crown with which his countrymen had decked his brow。
But Ewald von Kleist is no longer a poet or a herohe is a poor； suffering； tortured child of earth； he lies on the damp ground； he pleads for a few rags to cover his wounds； into which the muddy water of the hole in which he lies is rushing。
And now fate seems favorable。 A Russian officer is riding byhe takes pity on the naked man with the gaping wounds； he throws him a soldier's old mantle； a piece of bread； and a half gulden。 ＇Footnote： 〃Seven Years' War；〃 353。＇ The German poet receives the alms of the Russian thankfullyhe covers himself with the cloak； he tries to eat the bread。
But destiny is never propitious to German poets。 The Cossacks swarm again upon the battle…field； and again they approach the groaning warrior in the open grave； he has no longer a glittering uniform； but the Cossack takes all； the poor old mantle excites his greedhe tears it from the unresisting soldier； he opens his hands and takes out the half gulden which Ewald von Kleist had received from the Russian hussar。
Again he lies naked； again the muddy water forces into his wounds； and adds c
