We must now turn to the King of Prussia. The efforts he had made in the preceding campaigns to withstand so many enemies were again to be renewed. The Russians were ready to burst on Silesia, and were not a nation with whom he could temporize, as he could with Marshal Daun, by stratagems, shifting situations, and the other resources of a politic general. Count Dohna, who was opposed to them, had endeavoured to ward off the blow by such expedients: but his master determined in his own mind that the Russian storm should be encountered by a shock like their own. He disgraced Dohna, and substituted Wedel in his place, with absolute command to risk a battle. Wedel accordingly engaged seventy thousand Russians with less than half their number, and was defeated. The towns of Crossen and Francfort-on-the-Oder fell into the hands of the conquerors. The King, to vindicate his own measure, and indeed from the necessity of making a decisive effort, hastened with ten thousand men to the shattered remains of Wedel’s army; while Marshal Daun, who knew that the Russians wanted nothing but a body of cavalry, despatched twelve thousand horse to them under General Laudohn, who was accompanied, too, by eight thousand foot. This supply made the Russian force amount to above fourscore thousand men, already blooded with victory and barbarity. The King, with all the recruits he could collect, had not assembled above fifty thousand men--enough to sacrifice to despair! It was near the village of Cunnersdorf that he once more tried what the most intrepid rashness could perform. Even the advantage of situation was against him; yet nothing stopped his impetuosity. His Generals had no option: his troops were animated by revenge, by the dangers that threatened their country, and by the example of their King, who was so far entitled to lavish the blood of his soldiers, as he was prodigal of his own. Such motives and such fury bore down all before them. The Russian entrenchments were forced; seventy pieces of their cannon were taken; posts after posts were carried, and prodigious slaughter made of their bravest battalions. The King, confident of success, and impatient to notify it, despatched a courier to the Queen with these words: “Madam, we have beaten the Russians from their entrenchments; in two hours expect to hear of a glorious victory.” Unless he concluded that the expeditious divulging of his success could check the progress of his other enemies, or encourage his people to withstand the tempest that was ready to break upon them, this anticipation of his good fortune was childish, and more like the juvenile ardour of an unpractised hero, than of a man accustomed both to victory and reverses, and who was now fighting for dearer objects than glory.