Frederick the Great and His Family [152]
both! If in the battle to-morrow you fight like heroes, you shall both be made officers. Now, children, be quiet, let me rest a little. I do not want to sleep--cannot you tell me some little story, some pretty little fairy tale to keep my heavy eyes from closing?"
"Charles knows many fairy tales, sir king, and if you command it he must relate one."
"Oh, yes, your majesty, I know the history of a fairy who knew and loved the brave son of a king, and when the prince went into battle she transformed herself into a sword, that she might be always by the side of him she loved."
"Tell me this pretty story, my son."
Charles Henry began to relate. Deep silence reigned about the camp. Here and there a word was spoken in sleep, a loud snore, or the neighing of a horse. The fires were burned down, and the coals glowed like fire-flies upon the dark ground.
The moon stood over the camp and illuminated the strange and parti- colored scene with her soft rays, and called out the most wonderful contrasts of light and shade. Far, far away, in the dim distance, one blood-red point could be seen; it looked like a crimson star in the east. This was the camp-fire of the Austrians. This mighty army was encamped behind Leuthen. The king gazed in that direction with eager expectation, and listened with painful attention to every distant sound.
The silence of death reigned there; no sound or voice was heard. The king, being convinced of this, sank back once more upon the straw, and listened to Charles Henry Buschman.
It was indeed a beautiful fairy tale; so wild and so fantastic that Fritz listened with eyes extended and almost breathless to every word. At last, as the handsome prince was drawing his last breath, the lovely fairy sprang from his sword and brought the dead to life with her warm kisses, Fritz was in an ecstasy of excitement, and interrupted Charles by an outcry of rapture.
"This is a true story, sir king!" cried he, passionately; "every word is true, and he who don't believe it is a puppy!"
"Well, well," said the king, "I believe every word, friend."
Charles Henry went on with his fairy tales; but, notwithstanding the wonders he related, sleep at last overcame his friend! Fritz's eyes closed, but he murmured in his sleep: "It is all true--all true!"
Charles Henry himself, wearied by the exertions of the last few days, felt his eyelids to be as heavy as lead, his words came slowly, then ceased altogether.
The king looked at his slumbering soldiers, then far away toward the watch-fires of the Austrian camp.
Silence still reigned. The moon showed distant objects in the clearest light, and nothing suspicious or alarming could be seen. "It was false intelligence which was brought to me," said the king. "It is not true that the Austrians are on the march and intend to surprise me. They sleep!--we will not see them till tomorrow. I will withdraw to my quarters."
King Frederick stepped slowly through the ranks of the sleepers, and gave a sign to the officer and the four soldiers who had accompanied him, but remained at a distance from the fire, to move lightly and awaken no one.
CHAPTER XIV.
THE BATTLE OF LEUTHEN.
Early the next morning the king left his tent. The generals were anxiously awaiting him. His countenance glowed with energy and determination, and his brilliant eyes flashed with a sparkling light. Inspired by the appearance of their hero, the clouded brows of the assembled generals became clearer. They felt that his lofty brow was illumined by genius, and that the laurels which crowned it could never fade. They were now confident, courageous, ready for the battle, and, although they had at first disapproved of the king's plan of attacking the enemy who had twice overcome them, now that he was in their midst they felt secure of success.
Spies reported that the Austrian army had left their camp at sunrise and advanced toward Leuthen; they spoke much and loudly of the strength of the enemy, and of the eagerness of the soldiers to fall upon the weak Prussian army.
At a
"Charles knows many fairy tales, sir king, and if you command it he must relate one."
"Oh, yes, your majesty, I know the history of a fairy who knew and loved the brave son of a king, and when the prince went into battle she transformed herself into a sword, that she might be always by the side of him she loved."
"Tell me this pretty story, my son."
Charles Henry began to relate. Deep silence reigned about the camp. Here and there a word was spoken in sleep, a loud snore, or the neighing of a horse. The fires were burned down, and the coals glowed like fire-flies upon the dark ground.
The moon stood over the camp and illuminated the strange and parti- colored scene with her soft rays, and called out the most wonderful contrasts of light and shade. Far, far away, in the dim distance, one blood-red point could be seen; it looked like a crimson star in the east. This was the camp-fire of the Austrians. This mighty army was encamped behind Leuthen. The king gazed in that direction with eager expectation, and listened with painful attention to every distant sound.
The silence of death reigned there; no sound or voice was heard. The king, being convinced of this, sank back once more upon the straw, and listened to Charles Henry Buschman.
It was indeed a beautiful fairy tale; so wild and so fantastic that Fritz listened with eyes extended and almost breathless to every word. At last, as the handsome prince was drawing his last breath, the lovely fairy sprang from his sword and brought the dead to life with her warm kisses, Fritz was in an ecstasy of excitement, and interrupted Charles by an outcry of rapture.
"This is a true story, sir king!" cried he, passionately; "every word is true, and he who don't believe it is a puppy!"
"Well, well," said the king, "I believe every word, friend."
Charles Henry went on with his fairy tales; but, notwithstanding the wonders he related, sleep at last overcame his friend! Fritz's eyes closed, but he murmured in his sleep: "It is all true--all true!"
Charles Henry himself, wearied by the exertions of the last few days, felt his eyelids to be as heavy as lead, his words came slowly, then ceased altogether.
The king looked at his slumbering soldiers, then far away toward the watch-fires of the Austrian camp.
Silence still reigned. The moon showed distant objects in the clearest light, and nothing suspicious or alarming could be seen. "It was false intelligence which was brought to me," said the king. "It is not true that the Austrians are on the march and intend to surprise me. They sleep!--we will not see them till tomorrow. I will withdraw to my quarters."
King Frederick stepped slowly through the ranks of the sleepers, and gave a sign to the officer and the four soldiers who had accompanied him, but remained at a distance from the fire, to move lightly and awaken no one.
CHAPTER XIV.
THE BATTLE OF LEUTHEN.
Early the next morning the king left his tent. The generals were anxiously awaiting him. His countenance glowed with energy and determination, and his brilliant eyes flashed with a sparkling light. Inspired by the appearance of their hero, the clouded brows of the assembled generals became clearer. They felt that his lofty brow was illumined by genius, and that the laurels which crowned it could never fade. They were now confident, courageous, ready for the battle, and, although they had at first disapproved of the king's plan of attacking the enemy who had twice overcome them, now that he was in their midst they felt secure of success.
Spies reported that the Austrian army had left their camp at sunrise and advanced toward Leuthen; they spoke much and loudly of the strength of the enemy, and of the eagerness of the soldiers to fall upon the weak Prussian army.
At a