He knew well how much he was restrained by the consideration of magazines and commissariat, by the thousands of waggons full of stores and daily necessaries for the soldiers which must accompany him, but he also knew that this was his safest course. Once only, when after the battle of Rossbach, he made that wonderful march into Silesia, forty-one German miles in fifteen days, being in the greatest danger, he advanced through the country, as other armies do now, supporting his men by the billeting system. But he immediately returned to his former wise custom.[16] For if his enemies should learn to imitate this independent movement, he would certainly be lost. When the country militia of his old province rose up to withstand and drive away the Swedes, and valiantly defended Colberg and Berlin, he was much pleased, but took care not to encourage popular warfare; and when his East Friesland people rose of their own accord against the French, and were severely handled by them, he roughly told them it was their own fault, as war ought to be carried on by soldiers, and that tranquil labour, taxes, and recruiting were for peasants and citizens. He knew well that he was lost, if a popular war were excited against him in Saxony and Bohemia. This very narrow-mindedness of the cautious General with respect to military forms, which alone made the struggle possible, may perhaps be reckoned as one of his greatest qualities. Ever louder became the expression of sorrow and admiration with which Germans and foreigners watched the death struggle of the lion beset on all sides. As early as 1740, the young King had been extolled by the Protestants as the partisan of freedom of conscience and enlightenment, against Jesuits and intolerance. When, a few months after the battle of Collin, he so entirely beat the French at Rossbach, he became the hero of Germany, and there was a burst of exultation everywhere. For two centuries the French had inflicted the greatest injury on the much-divided country; now the German nature began to oppose itself to the influence of French culture, and now the King, who had so much admired Parisian verses, had as wonderfully scared away the Parisian General. It was such a brilliant victory, the old enemy was so disgracefully overthrown, that it rejoiced all hearts throughout the Empire; even where the soldiers of the Sovereigns were in the field against King Frederic, the citizens and peasants rejoiced secretly at his German blows. The longer the war lasted, the firmer became the belief in the King's invincibility, so much the more did the self-respect of the Germans rise. After long, long years, they had at last found a hero, of whose warlike fame they could be proud, who would accomplish what was almost more than human. Numberless anecdotes about him circulated through the country; every little trait of his composure, of his good humour and friendliness with the soldiers, or of