At last the peasant began to smile in a shame-faced way. “I know well enough who you are,” he began. “You think I am a fool. This gentleman is the King himself.” Frederick smiled, and then entered the hut with some of his generals. The peasant thereupon came forward, shaking his head doubtfully, and when he had sufficiently regained composure, said to one of the attendants: “That is too simple a dress for the King of Prussia. Surely that gentleman could not oppress his peasants.” The next morning Frederick set off again in search of the enemy, who was in position on the heights around Prague. Before reaching that city, he had to march through the Pascopol pass. By way of precaution he sent one hundred and fifty hussars ahead to ascertain if the way was strongly guarded. Hearing a few shots, the hussars rode back to the King and reported that all the approaches to the city were securely defended by hussars and _pandours_ (Hungarian soldiers). Frederick, who had already been informed to the contrary, sternly rebuked the commanding officer, and gave his own order, “Hussars! follow me. March!” They speedily brought in twenty _pandours_ and seven hussars, who were found hiding in the bushes. The pass was difficult to travel, but it was unprotected, and on the same day the army got through safely and soon reached Prague, where the attack was to be made. The situation seemed favorable, as pasture land of unusual verdure appeared to stretch far in the distance; but Field-Marshal Schwerin advised the King to be cautious, for the meadow might be full of swamp-holes and bogs, in which cavalry and cannon might easily be mired. He also asked that his troops might have a short rest after their long and weary march; but, once having formed his plans, Frederick would listen to no suggestion of change. “No, no,” said he, “I must attack the enemy to-day, cost what it may. The fresher fish, the better fish.” The old Field-Marshal, notwithstanding his dismal forebodings, exclaimed: “Well, then, the battle must and shall be fought to-day. I will attack the Austrians here or wherever else I find them.” Frederick ordered the charge. Like the plunging billows of the sea the cavalry, with Schwerin at their head, hurled themselves upon the enemy; but the result was just what the veteran Field-Marshal had feared. Cannon and cavalry were hampered in their movements by the swampy ground, and while trying to extricate themselves were also exposed to a murderous fire from the enemy’s batteries on the surrounding heights. Whole ranks of gallant Prussians were mowed down. It seemed impossible to fill the gaps, but at this juncture, Schwerin, then seventy-three years of age, seized a standard from a captain, and with the shout, “On, children, on, let those who are not cowards follow me!” rushed forward.[5] The brave old hero, however, had hardly gone ten paces when he fell, mangled by four grapeshots.