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Nothing articulate in it about the one now interesting point, and in regard to that, I can only fancy Rutowski might interject, interrogatively, perhaps at some length: "Our soldiers to be Prisoners of War, then?" "Prisoners; yes, clearly, unless they choose to volunteer, and have a better fate! Prisoners can volunteer.
SUNDAY, MONDAY, OCTOBER 10th-11th, By unheard-of exertions, all hands and all spent-horses now at a dead-lift effort night and day, Rutowski does get his pontoons carted out of the Pirna storehouse; lands them at Thurmsdorf, opposite the Lilienstein, a mile or so short of Konigstein, where his Bridge shall be. It is now the 11th, at night. And our pontoons are got to the ground, nothing more.
Your eye well on Grune and Rutowski; and the instant I give you signal ! I am for Silesia, to look after Prince Karl, the other long leg of this Business." Old Leopold, according to Friedrich's account, is visibly glad of such opportunity to fight again before he die: and yet, for no reason except some senile jealousy, is not content with these arrangements; perversely objects to this and that.
Winterfeld, Prussian Commander hereabouts, grants Armistice, grants liberal "wagon-loads of bread" first of all; terms of Capitulation to be settled at Struppen to-morrow. FRIDAY, OCTOBER 15th, Rutowski goes across to Struppen, the late Saxon head-quarter, now Friedrich's; Friday gone a fortnight was the day of Lobositz.
And, "about noon, there is strong cannonading from the Konigstein, as signal to Browne," who is off. Polish Majesty looking with his spy-glass in an astonished manner. In Vain! Rutowski and his Council of War sitting wet in a hut of Ebenheit, with 14,000 starved men outside, who have stood seventy-two hours of rain, for one item see nothing for it but "surrender on such terms as we can get."
In short, they shall volunteer!" "Never did I, for my poor part, authorize such a thing," loudly asseverated Rutowski afterwards. And indeed the Capitulation is not precise on that interesting point.
Joy looks through his old rough face, of gunpowder color: the Herr Gott has not delivered him to those damned Scoundrels in the end of his days. On the morrow, Friday, Leopold rolled grandly forward upon Dresden; Rutowski and Prince Karl vanishing into the Metal Mountains, by Pirna, for Bohemia, at sound of him, as he had scarcely hoped they would.
Old Dessauer getting signal, where now, too probably, is Saxony itself? Ranking again at Aussig in Bohemia, Prince Karl 5,000 of his men lost, and all impetus and fire gone falls gently down the Elbe, to join Rutowski at least; and will reappear within four weeks, out of Saxon Switzerland, still rather in dismal humor.
He had a week to do those eight bad miles in; and 2,000 lean horses, picking grass or brown leaves, while their riders threshed. "We will drag our pontoons by water, by the Elbe tow-path," thought Rutowski, "that will be easier;" and forthwith sets about preparing for it, secretly collecting boats at Pirna, steersmen, towing-men, bridge-tackle and what else will be necessary.
Be speedy, Old Dessauer: you must settle the Grune-Rutowski account before that junction, not after it! The Old Dessauer has been tolerably successful, and by no means thinks he has been losing time. Friedrich well knows the whither; and that Dresden itself is, or may be made, the place for falling in with Rutowski.
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