In the beginning of September, 1744, war again broke out between the Houses of Austria and Prussia. We marched with all speed towards Prague, traversing Saxony without opposition. I will not relate in this place what the great Frederic said to us, with evident emotion, when surrounded by all his officers, on the morning of our departure from Potzdam.

Should any one be desirous of writing the lives of him and his opponent, Maria Theresa, without flattery and without fear, let him apply to me, and I will relate anecdotes most surprising on this subject, unknown to all but myself, and which never must appear under my own name.

All monarchs going to war have reason on their side; and the churches of both parties resound with prayers, and appeals to Divine Justice, for the success of their arms. Frederic, on this occasion, had recourse to them with regret, of which I was a witness.

If I am not mistaken, the King’s army came before Prague on the 14th of September, and that of General Schwerin, which had passed through Silesia, arrived the next day on the other side of the Moldau. In this position we were obliged to wait some days for pontoons, without which we could not establish a communication between the two armies.

The height called Zischka, which overlooks the city, being guarded only by a few Croats, was instantly seized, without opposition, by some grenadiers, and the batteries, erected at the foot of that mountain, being ready on the fifth day, played with such success on the old town with bombs and red-hot balls that it was set on fire. The King made every effort to take the city before Prince Charles could bring his army from the Rhine to its relief.

General Harsh thought proper to capitulate, after a siege of twelve days, during which not more than five hundred men of the garrison, at the utmost, were killed and wounded, though eighteen thousand men were made prisoners.

Thus far we had met with no impediment. The Imperial army, however, under the command of Prince Charles of Lorraine, having quitted the banks of the Rhine, was advancing to save Bohemia.

During this campaign we saw the enemy only at a distance; but the Austrian light troops being thrice as numerous as ours, prevented us from all foraging. Winter was approaching, dearth and hunger made Frederic determine to retreat, without the least hope from the countries in our rear, which we had entirely laid waste as we had advanced. The severity of the season, in the month of November, rendered the soldiers excessively impatient of their hardships; and, accustomed to conquer, the Prussians were ashamed of and repined at retreat: the enemy’s light troops facilitated desertion, and we lost, in a few weeks, above thirty thousand men. The pandours of my kinsman, the Austrian Trenck, were incessantly at our heels, gave us frequent alarms, did us great injury, and, by their alertness, we never could make any impression upon them with our cannon. Trenck at length passed the Elbe, and went and burnt and destroyed our magazines at Pardubitz: it was therefore resolved wholly to evacuate Bohemia.

The King hoped to have brought Prince Charles to the battle between Benneschan and Kannupitz, but in vain: the Saxons, during the night, had entered a battery of three-and-twenty cannon on a mound which separated two ponds: this was the precise road by which the King meant to make the attack.

Thus were we obliged to abandon Bohemia. The dearth, both for man and horse, began to grow extreme. The weather was bad; the roads and ruts were deep; marches were continual, and alarms and attacks from the enemy’s light troops became incessant. The discontent all these inspired was universal, and this occasioned the great loss of the army.

Under such circumstances, had Prince Charles continued to harass us, by persuading us into Silesia, had he made a winter campaign, instead of remaining indolently at ease in Bohemia, we certainly should not have vanquished him, the year following, at Strigau; but he only followed at a distance, as far as the Bohemian frontiers. This gave Frederic time to recover, and the more effectually because the Austrians had the imprudence to permit the return of deserters.

This was a repetition of what had happened to Charles XII. when he suffered his Russian prisoners to return home, who afterwards so effectually punished his contempt of them at the battle of Pultawa.

Prague was obliged to be abandoned, with considerable loss; and Trenck seized on Tabor, Budweis, and Frauenberg, where he took prisoners the regiments of Walrabe Kreutz.

No one would have been better able to give a faithful history of this campaign than myself, had I room in this place, and had I at that time been more attentive to things of moment; since I not only performed the office of adjutant to the King, when he went to reconnoitre, or choose a place of encampment, but it was, moreover, my duty to provide forage for the headquarters. The King having only permitted me to take six volunteers from the body guard, to execute this latter duty, I was obliged to add to them horse chasseurs, and hussars, with whom I was continually in motion. I was peculiarly fortunate on two occasions, by happening to come after the enemy when they had left loaded waggons and forage bundles.

I seldom passed the night in my tent during this campaign, and my indefatigable activity obtained the favour and entire confidence of Frederic. Nothing so much contributed to inspire me with emulation as the public praises I received, and my enthusiasm wished to perform wonders. The campaign, however, but ill supplied me with opportunities to display my youthful ardour.

At length no one durst leave the camp, notwithstanding the extremity of the dearth, because of the innumerable clouds of pandours and hussars that hovered everywhere around.

No sooner were we arrived in Silesia, than the King’s body guard were sent to Berlin, there to remain in winter quarters.

I should not here have mentioned the Bohemian war, but that, while writing time history of my life, I ought not to omit accidents by which my future destiny was influenced.

One day, while at Bennaschen, I was commanded out, with a detachment of thirty hussars and twenty chasseurs, on a foraging party. I had posted my hussars in a convent, and gone myself, with the chasseurs, to a mansion-house, to seize the carts necessary for the conveyance of the hay and straw from a neighbouring farm. An Austrian lieutenant of hussars, concealed with thirty-six horsemen in a wood, having remarked the weakness of my escort, taking advantage of the moment when my people were all employed in loading the carts, first seized our sentinel, and then fell suddenly upon them, and took them all prisoners in the very farm-yard. At this moment I was seated at my ease, beside the lady of the mansion-house, and was a spectator of the whole transaction through the window.

I was ashamed of and in despair at my negligence. The kind lady wished to hide me when the firing was heard in the farm-yard. By good fortune, the hussars, whom I had stationed in the convent, had learnt from a peasant that there was an Austrian detachment in the wood: they had seen us at a distance enter the farmyard, hastily marched to our aid, and we had not been taken more than two minutes before they arrived. I cannot express the pleasure with which I put myself at their head. Some of the enemy’s party escaped through a back door, but we made two-and-twenty prisoners, with a lieutenant of the regiment of Kalnockichen. They had two men killed, and one wounded; and two also of my chasseurs were hewn down by the sabre, in the hay-loft, where they were at work.

We continued our forage with more caution after this accident: the horses we had taken served, in part, to draw the carts; and, after raising a contribution of one hundred and fifty ducats on the convent, which I distributed among the soldiers to engage them to silence, we returned to the army, from which we were distant about two leagues.

We heard firing as we marched, and the foragers on all sides were skirmishing with the enemy. A lieutenant and forty horse joined me; yet, with this reinforcement, I durst not return to the camp, because I learned we were in danger from more than eight hundred pandours and hussars, who were in the plain. I therefore determined to take a long, winding, but secret route, and had the good fortune to come safe to quarters with my prisoners and five-and-twenty loaded carts. The King was at dinner when I entered his tent. Having been absent all night, it was imagined I had been taken, that accident having happened the same day to many others.

The instant I entered, the King demanded if I returned singly. “No, please your Majesty,” answered I; “I have brought five-and-twenty loads of forage, and two-and-twenty prisoners, with their officer and horses.”

The King then commanded me to sit down, and turning himself towards the English ambassador, who was near him, said, laying his hand on my shoulder, “C’est un Matador de ma jeunesse.”

A reconnoitring party was, at the same moment, in waiting before his tent: he consequently asked me few questions, and to those he did ask, I replied trembling. In a few minutes he rose from the table, gave a glance at the prisoners, hung the Order of Merit round my neck, commanded me to go and take repose, and set off with his party.

It is easy to conceive the embarrassment of my situation; my unpardonable negligence deserved that I should have been broken, instead of which I was rewarded; an instance, this, of the great influence of chance on the affairs of the world. How many generals have gained victories by their very errors, which have been afterwards attributed to their genius! It is evident the sergeant of hussars, who retook me and my men by bringing up his party, was much better entitled than myself to the recompense I received. On many occasions have I since met with disgrace and punishment when I deserved reward. My inquietude lest the truth should be discovered, was extreme, especially recollecting how many people were in the secret: and my apprehensions were incessant.

As I did not want money, I gave the sergeants twenty ducats each, and the soldiers one, in order to insure their silence, which, being a favourite with them, they readily promised. I, however, was determined to declare the truth the very first opportunity, and this happened a few days after.

We were on our march, and I, as cornet, was at the head of my company, when the King, advancing, beckoned me to come to him, and bade me tell him exactly how the affair I had so lately been engaged in happened.

The question at first made me mistrust I was betrayed, but remarking the King had a mildness in his manner, I presently recovered myself, and related the exact truth. I saw the astonishment of his countenance, but I at the same time saw he was pleased with my sincerity. He spoke to me for half an hour, not as a King, but as a father, praised my candour, and ended with the following words, which, while life remains, I shall never forget: “Confide in the advice I give you; depend wholly upon me, and I will make you a man.” Whoever can feel, may imagine how infinitely my gratitude towards the King was increased, by this his great goodness; from that moment I had no other desire than to live and die for his service.

I soon perceived the confidence the King had in me after this explanation, of which I received very frequent marks, the following winter, at Berlin. He permitted me to be present at his conversations with the literati of his court, and my state was truly enviable.

I received this same winter more than five hundred ducats as presents. So much happiness could not but excite jealousy, and this began to be manifest on every side. I had too little disguise for a courtier, and my heart was much too open and frank.

Before I proceed, I will here relate an incident which happened during the last campaign, and which will, no doubt, be read in the history of Frederic.

On the rout while retreating through Bohemia, the King came to Kollin, with his horse-guards, the cavalry piquets of the head-quarters, and the second and third battalions of guards. We had only four field pieces, and our squadron was stationed in one of the suburbs. Our advance posts, towards evening, were driven back into the town, and the hussars entered pell-mell: the enemy’s light troops swarmed over the country, and my commanding officer sent me immediately to receive the King’s orders. After much search, I found him at the top of a steeple, with a telescope in his hand. Never did I see him so disturbed or undecided as on this occasion. Orders were immediately given that we should retreat through the city, into the opposite suburb, where we were to halt, but not unsaddle.

We had not been here long before a most heavy rain fell, and the night became exceedingly dark. My cousin Trenck made his approach about nine in the evening, with his pandour and janissary music, and set fire to several houses. They found we were in the suburb, and began to fire upon us from the city windows. The tumult became extreme: the city was too full for us to re-enter: the gate was shut, and they fired from above at us with our field-pieces. Trenck had let in the waters upon us, and we were up to the girths by midnight, and almost in despair. We lost seven men, and my horse was wounded in the neck.

The King, and all of us, had certainly been made prisoners had my cousin, as he has since told me, been able to continue the assault he had begun: but a cannon ball having wounded him in the foot, he was carried off, and the pandours retired. The corps of Nassau arrived next day to our aid; we quitted Kollin, and during the march the King said to me, “Your cousin had nearly played us a malicious prank last night, but the deserters say he is killed.” He then asked what our relationship was, and there our conversation ended.