ns thereabouts very pretty,
on a clear spring day, says my touring friend. Both at Wartha, and
at Silberberg the little Town which looks into the mouth of the
northernmost Valley, the Prussians have a post. Old Derschau, Malplaquet
Derschau, with headquarters at Frankenstein, some seven or eight miles
nearer Schweidnitz, has not failed in that precaution. Friedrich wished
to visit Silberberg and Wartha; set out accordingly, 27th February, with
small escort, carelessly as usual: the Pandour people had wind of it;
knew his habits on such occasions; and, gliding through other roadless
valleys, under an adventurous Captain, had determined to whirl him
off. And they were in fact not far from succeeding, had not a mistake
happened.

Silberberg, and Wartha the southernmost, which stands upon the Neisse
River (rushing out there into the plainer country), are each about
seven or eight miles from Frankenstein, the Head-quarters; and there
are relays of posts, capable of supporting one another, all the way from
Frankenstein to each. Friedrich rode to Silberberg first; examined the
post, found it right; then rode across to Wartha, seven or eight miles
southward; examined Wartha likewise; after which, he sat down to dinner
in that little Town, with an Officer or two for company,--having, I
suppose, found all right in both the posts. In the way hither, he had
made some change in the relay arrangements, which at first involved
some diminution of his own escort, and then some marching about and
redistributing: so that, externally, it seemed as if the Principal
Relay-party were now marching on Baumgarten, an intermediate
Village,--at least so the Pandour Captain understands the movements
going on; and crouches into the due thickets in consequence, not
doubting but the King himself is for Baumgarten, and will be at hand
presently. Principal relay-party, a squadron of Schulenburg's Dragoons,
with a stupid Major over them, is not quite got into Baumgarten, when
"with horrible cries the Pandour Captain with about 500 horse," plunges
out of cover, direct upon the throat of it: and Friedrich, at Wartha,
is but just begun dining when tumult of distant musketry breaks in upon
him. With Friedrich himself, at this time, as I count, there might be
150 Horse; in Wartha post itself are at least "forty hussars and fifty
foot." By no means "nothing but a single adjutant," as the Myth bears.

The stupid Major ought to have beaten this rabble, though a