Some days after this, October 17, the King summoned all his generals and staff officers and thus addressed them: “You are aware, gentlemen, that the army has suffered from a surprise. The darkness of the night was accountable for it. You must now consider our situation. We are in upper Lusatia. Our property, our wives, our children are far behind us. If we weaken in the least, all will be lost. An immediate battle is inevitable. Rather than submit, I will be buried with the rest of my army. I suppose that every one of you thinks as I do. He who does not, can be spared; he can go home immediately. Is there such a one among you?” All present hastened to assure the King that they would do their duty as they had always done it. Frederick listened to their declaration with much satisfaction, and replied: “I am delighted, gentlemen, to find the same devotion and self-sacrifice you have always shown. I thank you for it.” His heavy losses at Hochkirch greatly troubled Frederick, but he consoled himself with the thought of his next great battle. At this time he wrote to a friend: “The affair of October 14 ought to have decided the campaign, but it was nothing more than a scratch. A great battle must decide our fate. In all likelihood we shall have one very soon and then, with the result in our favor, we can rejoice. It has required many troops and much skill to get us thus far along.” While Frederick was occupied with his great plans to avenge his defeat, Daun remained quietly in his camp on the lookout, rejoicing over the disaster and confident that the Prussians had had enough of it. On the other hand, the King, who was always prompt in decision, sent speedy couriers to his brother Henry, in Saxony, with instructions for him to march into upper Lusatia with his seven thousand men and join his command. Meanwhile he kept a sharp watch upon the enemy. One Autumn morning, about daybreak, as he was riding out in search of information, attended by some under-officers, the fog grew so dense that they could only see a few paces ahead of them. They rode along a carriage road, the King having the idea that by turning to the right they could avoid the enemy’s outposts. Adjutant von Oppen, however, noticed that they had already gone too far. “Upon my soul, Your Majesty,” said he, “we are already too far to the left and are certainly behind the enemy’s outposts.” Scarcely had he said the last word, when an Austrian hussar appeared at their right to see who was talking. The King, with his usual presence of mind, advanced to the Austrian and coolly asked: “Hussar, where does this road lead?”