ement brought pale terror to the hearts of the Prince of
Prussia and his generals. They who had heretofore sprang joyfully to
meet the call of their king, now trembled at his glance. They must now
present to him the sad and despoiled remnant of that great army which,
under the command of the Prince Augustus William of Prussia, had made
the retreat from Lausitz.

It had, indeed, been the most fearful retreat ever attempted by the
Prussian troops. It had cost them more than the bloodiest battle, and
they had suffered more from hardships during the last few days than ever
before during a whole campaign. They had marched over narrow, stony,
rugged mountain-paths, between hills and horrible abysses, sometimes
climbing upward, sometimes descending. Thousands died from exhaustion;
thousands pressed backward, crushed by those in the front; thousands,
forced onward by those in the rear, had stumbled and fallen into
fathomless caverns, which lay at the foot of these mountain passes,
yawning like open graves. If a wheel broke, the wagon was burned; there
was no time for repairs, and if left in the path, it interrupted the
passage of the flying army. At last, in order to facilitate the flight,
the provision-wagons were burned, and the bread divided amongst the
soldiers; the equipages and pontoon-wagons were also burned. Exhausted
by their unusual exertions, beside themselves from pain and unheard-of
suffering the whole army was seized with a death-panic.

The soldiers had lost not only all faith in their good fortune, but all
faith in their leaders. Thousands deserted; thousands fled to escape
death, which seemed to mock at and beckon to them from every pointed
rock and every dark cavern. [Footnote: Warner's "Campaigns of Frederick
the Great".]

While one part of the army deserted or died of hunger or exhaustion,
another part fought with an intrenched enemy, for three long days, in
the narrow pass of Gabel, under the command of General von Puttkammer.
They fought like heroes, but were at last obliged to surrender, with two
thousand men and seven cannon. Utterly broken by these losses, dead and
dying from starvation and weariness, the army drew off toward Zittau.

There was but one thought which sustained the wearied, and lent strength
to the starving. In Zittau were immense magazines of grain. In Zittau,
the rich Saxon city, which throughout all Saxony was called the
gold-mine, they dared hope for rest and opportunity to recover