after
haggle enough, adjusted himself for besieging Glogau; and is surly to
hear, on the sudden (order from Petersburg reinforcing Loudon), that it
is Breslau instead. "Excellenz, it is not Cunctator Daun this time, it
is fiery Loudon." "Well, Breslau, then!" answers Soltikof at last, after
much suasion. And marches thither; [Tempelhof, iv. 87-89 ("Rose from
Posen, July 26th").] faster than usual, quickened by new temporary
hopes, of Montalembert's raising or one's own: "What a place-of-arms,
and place of victual, would Breslau be for us, after all!"

And really mends his pace, mends it ever more, as matters grow
stringent; and advances upon Breslau at his swiftest: "To rendezvous
with Loudon under the walls there,--within the walls very soon, and
ourselves chief proprietor!"--as may be hoped. Breslau has a garrison of
4,000, only 1,000 of them stanch; and there are, among other bad items,
9,000 Austrian Prisoners in it. A big City with weak walls: another
place to defend than rock-hewn little Glatz,--if there be no better than
a D'O for Commandant in it! But perhaps there is.

"WEDNESDAY, 30th JULY, Loudon's Vanguard arrived at Breslau; next day
Loudon himself;--and besieged Breslau very violently, according to his
means, till the Sunday following. Troops he has plenty, 40,000 odd,
which he gives out for 50 or even 60,000; not to speak of Soltikof,
'with 75,000' (read 45,000), striding on in a fierce and dreadful manner
to meet him here. 'Better surrender to Christian Austrians, had not
you?' Loudon's Artillery is not come up, it is only struggling on from
Glatz; Soltikof of his own has no Siege-Artillery; and Loudon judges
that heavy-footed Soltikof, waited on by an alert Prince Henri, is a
problematic quantity in this enterprise. 'Speedy oneself; speedy
and fiery!' thinks Loudon: 'by violence of speed, of bullying and
bombardment, perhaps we can still do it!' And Loudon tried all these
things to a high stretch; but found in Tauentzien the wrong man.

"THURSDAY, 31st, Loudon, who has two bridges over Oder, and the
Town begirt all round, summons Tauentzien in an awful sounding tone:
'Consider, Sir: no defence possible; a trading Town, you ought not to
attempt defence of it: surrender on fair terms, or I shall, which God
forbid, be obliged to burn you and it from the face of the world!'
'Pooh, pooh,' answers Tauentzien, in brief polite terms; 'you yourselves
had no doubt it was a Garrison, when we besieged you here, o