Frederick’s fortunate victory so discouraged the Austrian troops that the Schweidnitz garrison, although amply provisioned, made but a feeble resistance, and surrendered in a few days at discretion. All Silesia was once more in possession of the King. To make Maria Theresa appreciate his strength he extended the area of his operations into Moravia and laid siege to the city of Olmütz, a suburb, as it were, of Vienna. It was an undertaking, however, as fruitless as it was unfortunate. The siege was long protracted, for the besiegers were not only hampered by lack of sufficient artillery, but of ammunition, which had to be hauled over morasses and through deep defiles. In consequence, the King had plenty of leisure for excursions into the neighboring country. Upon one of these occasions he rode about the country of Glatz in company with General Seydlitz. Passing through a defile, the King noticed, some distance away, a collection of people, whom at first glance he took to be a detachment of Austrians. Seydlitz, who had unusually sharp eyes, was of opinion that Fouquet had fixed his limits there and stationed these people so that the enemy’s troops could not cross them without his knowledge. The King and Seydlitz rode up and found that the people were peasants of the country, whom Fouquet had placed there to watch the line. “Are you Prussians?” asked Frederick. “No,” they replied, “we are Fickets.” (Fouquet was called “Ficket” by the common people.) “You can see now,” said the King to Seydlitz, laughing, “who is master here, and that I don’t count for much.” Notwithstanding this, the King continued riding about the country, and one day made a discovery which disturbed him not a little. He heard that the Countess Grün, wife of a staff officer of the garrison, had made a vow to the Virgin, at the Jesuit church, that she would present her a beautiful robe when the siege of Olmütz was raised. He immediately ordered a robe made of the richest material for the Madonna, and sent it to the Jesuits with the message that as he had heard of the Countess’s useless vow, and as he was as mindful of the amenities of life as she, he did not wish our dear Lady should be the loser. As events might take another turn, he was simply carrying out what the Countess might not be able to perform. The Jesuits, delighted with his gift, came in procession to thank him, and exhibited the robe to strangers as a proof of the King’s pious sentiments.