Hussar Kleist, Knobloch, Thadden, Platen), not
without furious fencing, struggling; but with no success. There are,
in wait at the proper places, 15,000 Russians waylaying. Winter comes
early, and unusually severe: such marchings, such endeavorings and
endurances,--without success! For darkness, cold, grim difficulty,
fierce resistance to it, one reads few things like this of Colberg. 'The
snow lies ell-deep,' says Archenholtz; 'snow-tempests, sleet, frost: a
country wasted and hungered out; wants fuel-wood; has not even salt. The
soldier's bread is a block of ice; impracticable to human teeth till you
thaw it,--which is only possible by night.' The Russian ships disappear
(17th October); November 2d, Butturlin, leaving reinforcements without
stint, vanishes towards Poland. The day before Butturlin went, there had
been solemn summons upon Eugen, 'Surrender honorably, we once more bid
you; never will we leave this ground, till Colberg is ours!' 'Vain to
propose it!' answers Eugen, as before. The Russians too are clearly
in great misery of want; though with better roads open for them; and
Romanzow's obstinacy is extreme.

"Night of November 14th-15th, Eugen, his horse-fodder being entirely
done, and Heyde's magazines worn almost out, is obliged to glide
mysteriously, circuitously from his Camp, and go to try the task
himself. The most difficult of marches, gloriously executed; which
avails to deliver Eugen, and lightens the pressure on Heyde's small
store. Eugen, in a way Tempelhof cannot enough admire, gets clear away.
Joins with Platen, collects Provision; tries to send Provision in,
but without effect. By the King's order, is to try it himself in a
collective form. Had Heyde food, he would care little.

"Romanzow, who is now in Eugen's old Camp, summons the Veteran; they
say, it is 'for the twenty-fifth time,'--not yet quite the last. Heyde
consults his people: 'KAMERADEN, what think you should I do?' 'THUN
SIE'S DURCHAUS NICHT, HERR OBRIST, Do not a whit of it, Herr Colonel: we
will defend ourselves as long as we have bread and powder.' [Seyfarth,
iii. 28; Archenholtz, ii. 304.] It is grim frost; Heyde pours water on
his walls. Romanzow tries storm; the walls are glass; the garrison has
powder, though on half rations as to bread: storm is of no effect. By
the King's order, Eugen tries again. December 6th, starts; has again a
march of the most consummate kind; December 12th, gets to the Russian
intrenchment; storms a