lasted till midwinter, under continual fierce
counter-movements and desperate sallies from the Swedish Lion, standing
at bay there against all the world. But Friedrich Wilhelm was
vigilance itself; and he had his Anhalt-Dessaus with him, his Borcks,
Buddenbrocks, Finkensteins, veteran men and captains, who had learned
their art under Marlborough and Eugene. The Lion King's fierce sallies,
and desperate valor, could not avail. Point after point was lost for
him. Koppen, a Prussian Lieutenant-Colonel, native to the place, who has
bathed in those waters in his youth, remembers that, by wading to the
chin, you could get round the extremity of Charles's main outer line.
Koppen states his project, gets it approved of;--wades accordingly,
with a select party, under cloud of night (4th of November, eve of
Gunpowder-day, a most cold-hot job); other ranked Prussian battalions
awaiting intently outside, with shouldered firelock, invisible in the
dark; what will become of him. Koppen wades successfully; seizes the
first battery of said line,--masters said line with its batteries, the
outside battalions and he. Irrepressibly, with horrible uproar from
without and from within; the flying Swedes scarcely getting up the Town
drawbridge, as he chased them. That important line is lost to Charles.

Next they took the Isle of Rugen from him, which shuts up the harbor.
Leopold of Anhalt-Dessau, our rugged friend, in Danish boats, which were
but ill navigated, contrives, about a week after that Koppen feat,
to effect a landing-on Rugen at nightfall; beats off the weak Swedish
party;--entrenches, palisades himself to the teeth, and lies down under
arms. That latter was a wise precaution. For, about four in the morning,
Charles comes in person, with eight pieces of cannon and four thousand
horse and foot: Charles is struck with amazement at the palisade
and ditch ("MEIN GOTT, who would have expected this!" he was heard
murmuring); dashes, like a fire-flood, against ditch and palisade; tears
at the pales himself, which prove impregnable to his cannon and him. He
storms and rages forward, again and again, now here, now there; but is
met everywhere by steady deadly musketry; and has to retire, fruitless,
about daybreak, himself wounded, and leaving his eight cannons, and four
hundred slain.

Poor Charles, there had been no sleep for him that night, and little for
very many nights: "on getting to horse, on the shore at Stralsund, he
fainted repe