The winter of 1761–2 was one of great bitterness to the king. His health had broken down. On every hand the situation was clearly desperate. No prospect but failure lay before him. He led the life of a dog, as he said. Still the iron-hearted man ceased not for a moment his preparations. He was resolved to die with honor if he could not win. Had the outlook been promising in the extreme, he could not have labored more consistently, even if more cheerfully. “All our wars should be short and sharp,” says he; “a long war is bad for our discipline and would exhaust our population and resources.” The theory of the strategy as well as the battle evolutions of the king was the saving of time by skill and rapidity. The death of the Czarina and accession of Peter III. gave Frederick a breathing-spell. This lasted but a short while, when the death of Peter again changed the current. But the war from now on languished, and there finally came about a peace on the “as-you-were” principle. Frederick kept Silesia (1763). Frederick had not been a strong boy, but in early manhood he had gained in physique. His life with troops had lent him a robustness of constitution equal to any drain or strain, and his wonderful determination drove him to ceaseless activity. Later in life he was troubled with gout. Even when seventy-three years old, and clinging to life by a mere thread, he never ceased daily, hourly work. His efforts were all for the good of Prussia, and his subjects recognized what he had done for the fatherland. Zimmermann, the Hanoverian physician, thus describes him in his old age:-- “He is not of tall stature, and seems bent under his load of laurels and his many years of struggle. His blue coat, much worn like his body, long boots to above the knees, and a white snuff-besprinkled vest, gave him a peculiar aspect. But the fire of his eyes showed that Frederick’s soul had not grown old. Though his bearing was that of an invalid, yet one must conclude from the quickness of his movements and the bold decisiveness of his look, that he could yet fight like a youth. Set up his unimportant figure among a million of men, and every one would recognize in him the king, so much sublimity and constancy resided in this unusual man!” And the same writer says of his palace:-- “At Sans Souci there reigned such quiet that one might notice every breath. My first visit to this lonely spot was of an evening in the late fall. I was indeed surprised when I saw before me a small mansion, and learned that in it lived the hero who had already shaken the world with his name. I went around the entire house, approached the windows, saw light in them, but found no sentry before the doors, nor met a man to ask me who I was or what I craved. Then first I understood the greatness of Frederick. He needs for his protection not armed minions or firearms. He knows that the love and respect of the people keep watch at the doors of his modest abode.”