Northward, but ever slower, to the swollen Pommern regions, and sluggish exit into the Baltic there.
One of the worst features is the state of the weather.

On Sunday, at Breslau, we noticed thunder bursting out on an important occasion; "ominous," some men thought;--omen, for one thing, that the weather was breaking.

At Weichau, that same day, rain began,--the young Herr of Weichau, driving home to Papa from dinner with Majesty, would get his share of it;--and on Monday, 19th, there was such a pour of rain as kept most wayfarers, though it could not the Prussian Army, within doors.
Rain in plunges, fallen and falling, through that blessed day; making roads into mere rivers of mud.

The Prussian hosts marched on, all the same.

Head-quarters, with the van of the wet Army, that night, were at Milkau;--from which place we have a Note of Friedrich's for Friend Jordan, perhaps producible by and by.