Search On My Own

 

This post includes an full example of a search engine based on Hugging Face models and libraries. The code is based on the wikipedia search example.

The application is using cache files for any item, so the long processing is done only on the first run. For example, we download the book text, and save it to a file. On the next run, we find the file already exists, so we just read the file instead of downloading the book again.

The application does the following steps:

Download the book text.

Splitting the book text to paragraphs. We assume paragraphs are separated by new-lines. But, we might have a paragraph which is too long for the SentenceTransformer, hence we use spacy to break paragraphs into sentences, and avoid break a paragraph in the middle. 

We send the broken paragraphs to the SentenceTransformer and create embedding vector for each broken paragraph.

For each query, we use the SentenceTransformer to create embedding, and use semantic_search to find broken paragraphs that are similar to the question.

However, the SentenceTransformer was not fine tuned for this mission, and the results are not accurate.

To overcome this, we select the top 100 results from the SentenceTransformer, and use CrossEncoder to find relevance between the query and the SentenceTransformer 100 results. We select the top best matching results.

import os.path
import pickle
import time
import urllib.request

import spacy
from sentence_transformers import SentenceTransformer, util, CrossEncoder


def get_book_text(book_url):
    print('loading book')
    book_file_path = 'book.txt'
    if not os.path.isfile(book_file_path):
        with urllib.request.urlopen(book_url) as response:
            data = response.read()
        with open(book_file_path, 'wb') as file:
            file.write(data)

    with open(book_file_path, 'r') as file:
        return file.read()


class TimedPrinter:
    def __init__(self):
        self.last_print = time.time()

    def print(self, message):
        passed = time.time() - self.last_print
        if passed > 5:
            self.last_print = time.time()
            print(message)


class TextSplitter:
    def __init__(self):
        self.items = []
        self.printer = TimedPrinter()
        self.nlp = spacy.load('en_core_web_sm')
        self.current_bulk = []
        self.current_bulk_spaces = 0
        self.min_words_in_section = 5

    def flush_bulk(self):
        if len(self.current_bulk) > 0:
            self.items.append('\n'.join(self.current_bulk))

        self.current_bulk = []
        self.current_bulk_spaces = 0

    def get_text_items(self, full_text, print_results=False):
        items_file_path = 'items.pkl'
        if not os.path.isfile(items_file_path):
            self.split_text(full_text)
            with open(items_file_path, 'wb') as file:
                pickle.dump(self.items, file)

        with open(items_file_path, 'rb') as file:
            print('loading embedding')
            self.items = pickle.load(file)

        if print_results:
            print('\n===\n'.join(self.items))

        print('final split size is {}'.format(len(self.items)))
        return self.items

    def split_text(self, full_text):
        print('breaking text')
        sections = full_text.split('\n\n')
        print('text length {}'.format(len(full_text)))
        print('text split to {} sections'.format(len(sections)))

        for section_index, section_text in enumerate(sections):
            self.printer.print('section {}/{}'.format(section_index + 1, len(sections)))
            self.scan_section(section_text)
            self.flush_bulk()

    def scan_section(self, section_text):
        section_text = section_text.strip()
        if section_text.count(' ') < self.min_words_in_section:
            return
        doc = self.nlp(section_text)

        for sentence in doc.sents:
            self.scan_sentence(sentence.text)

    def scan_sentence(self, sentence_text):
        sentence_text = sentence_text.strip()
        if len(sentence_text) == 0:
            return

        spaces = sentence_text.count(' ')
        if spaces + self.current_bulk_spaces > 128:
            self.flush_bulk()

        self.current_bulk.append(sentence_text)
        self.current_bulk_spaces += spaces


class SemanticSearch:
    def __init__(self, corpus):
        self.embedder = SentenceTransformer('multi-qa-MiniLM-L6-cos-v1')
        self.embedder.max_seq_length = 256
        self.corpus = corpus

        embeddings_file_path = 'embeddings.pkl'
        if not os.path.isfile(embeddings_file_path):
            print('embedding corpus')

            corpus_embeddings = self.embedder.encode(corpus, convert_to_tensor=True, show_progress_bar=True)

            with open(embeddings_file_path, 'wb') as file:
                pickle.dump(corpus_embeddings, file)

        with open(embeddings_file_path, 'rb') as file:
            print('loading embedding')
            self.embeddings = pickle.load(file)

    def query(self, query_text, print_results=False, top_k=100):
        query_embedding = self.embedder.encode(query_text, convert_to_tensor=True)
        hits = util.semantic_search(query_embedding, self.embeddings, top_k=top_k)
        hits = hits[0]
        results = []
        for hit_index, hit in enumerate(hits):
            result_text = self.corpus[hit['corpus_id']]
            results.append(result_text)
            if print_results:
                print('=' * 100)
                print('Query: {}'.format(query_text))
                print('Search hit {} score {}'.format(hit_index, hit['score']))
                print(result_text)

        return results


class RelevantCheck:
    def __init__(self):
        self.cross_encoder = CrossEncoder('cross-encoder/ms-marco-MiniLM-L-6-v2')

    def rank(self, query, texts, top_k=3, print_results=False):
        encoder_input = [[query, text] for text in texts]
        scores = self.cross_encoder.predict(encoder_input)
        texts_scores = []
        for i in range(len(texts)):
            text = texts[i]
            score = scores[i]
            item = text, score
            texts_scores.append(item)

        texts_scores = sorted(texts_scores, key=lambda x: x[1], reverse=True)
        print(texts_scores)
        if len(texts_scores) > top_k:
            texts_scores = texts_scores[:top_k]

        results = []
        for i, text_score in enumerate(texts_scores):
            text, score = text_score
            results.append(text)
            if print_results:
                print('=' * 100)
                print('Query: {}'.format(query))
                print('result {} related score {}'.format(i, score))
                print(text)

        return results


def main():
    print('starting')

    book_url = 'https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/56928/pg56928.txt'
    text = get_book_text(book_url)
    # we don't want answers from the table of contents
    text_after_toc = text[text.index('\nCHAPTER I\n'):]

    corpus = TextSplitter().get_text_items(text_after_toc)
    search = SemanticSearch(corpus)
    relevant = RelevantCheck()

    queries = [
        'who broke in uncontrollable sobbings?',
        'what is the weather?'
    ]

    for query in queries:
        results = search.query(query, print_results=False)
        relevant.rank(query, results, print_results=True)


main()

The output is:

starting
loading book
loading embedding
final split size is 3167
/home/alon/git/dl/venv/lib/python3.12/site-packages/transformers/tokenization_utils_base.py:1601: FutureWarning: `clean_up_tokenization_spaces` was not set. It will be set to `True` by default. This behavior will be depracted in transformers v4.45, and will be then set to `False` by default. For more details check this issue: https://github.com/huggingface/transformers/issues/31884
  warnings.warn(
/home/alon/git/dl/venv/lib/python3.12/site-packages/torch/storage.py:414: FutureWarning: You are using `torch.load` with `weights_only=False` (the current default value), which uses the default pickle module implicitly. It is possible to construct malicious pickle data which will execute arbitrary code during unpickling (See https://github.com/pytorch/pytorch/blob/main/SECURITY.md#untrusted-models for more details). In a future release, the default value for `weights_only` will be flipped to `True`. This limits the functions that could be executed during unpickling. Arbitrary objects will no longer be allowed to be loaded via this mode unless they are explicitly allowlisted by the user via `torch.serialization.add_safe_globals`. We recommend you start setting `weights_only=True` for any use case where you don't have full control of the loaded file. Please open an issue on GitHub for any issues related to this experimental feature.
  return torch.load(io.BytesIO(b))
loading embedding
[('“I was in such a state I know not how we got down stairs.\nI remember\nonly that it was in a concert of lamentable sobbings.\nMadame, the\nMarchioness of Schwedt, who had been named to attend the princess to\nStralsund, on the Swedish frontier, this high lady, and the two dames\nD’Atours, who were for Sweden itself, having sprung into the same\ncarriage, the door of it was shut with a slam, the postillions cracked,\nthe carriage shot away, and disappeared from our eyes.\nIn a moment the\nking and court lost sight of the beloved Ulrique forever.\n”[73]', -1.2050501), ('Thus influenced, she yielded.\nTears flooded her eyes, and her voice was\nbroken with sobs as she said, “I am ready to sacrifice myself for the\npeace of the family.”\nThe deputation withdrew, leaving the princess in\ndespair.\nBaron Grumkow conveyed to the king the pleasing intelligence\nof her submission.', -2.5912666), ('“The queen went to her own apartment to fetch it.\nI ran in to her there\nfor a moment.\nShe was out of her senses, wringing her hands, crying\nincessantly, and exclaiming, ‘O God, my son, my son!’\nBreath failed me.\nI fell fainting into the arms of Madam Sonsfeld.\nThe queen took the\nwriting-desk to the king.\nHe immediately broke it open and tore out\nthe letters, with which he went away.\nThe queen came back to us.\nWe\nwere comforted by the assurance, from some of the attendants, that my\nbrother at least was not dead.', -4.9627333), ('“My discourse,” she writes, “produced its effect.\nHe melted into tears,\nand could not answer me for sobs.\nHe explained his thoughts by his\nembracings of me.\nMaking an effort at length, he said, ‘I am in despair\nthat I did not know thee.\nThey had told me such horrible tales--I\nhated thee as much as I now love thee.\nIf I had addressed myself direct\nto thee I should have escaped much trouble, and thou too.\nBut they\nhindered me from speaking.\nThey said that thou wert ill-natured as the\ndevil, and wouldst drive to extremities, which I wanted to avoid.\nThy\nmother, by her intriguings, is in part the cause of the misfortunes\nof the family.\nI have been deceived and duped on every side.\nBut my\nhands are tied.\nThough my heart is torn in pieces, I must leave these\niniquities unpunished.’”', -5.153442), ('Soon after, the king returned to Berlin and summoned his daughter to\nhis presence.\nHe received her very graciously.\nThe queen, however,\nremained quite unreconciled, and was loud in the expression of her\nanger: “I am disgraced, vanquished, and my enemies are triumphant!”\nshe\nexclaimed.\nHer chagrin was so great that she fell quite sick.\nTo a few\nwords of sympathy which her child uttered, she replied, “Why do you\npretend to weep?\nIt is you who have killed me.”', -5.69692), ('as if his attendants were to blame for his\nshortness of breath.\nThe distress from the dropsy was very great.\n“If\nyou roll the king a little fast,” writes an attendant, “you hear the\nwater jumble in his body.”\nThe Crown Prince was deeply affected in view\nof the deplorable condition of his father, and wept convulsively.\nThe\nstern old king was stern to the end.\nHe said one day to Frederick, “If\nyou begin at the wrong end with things, and all go topsy-turvy after I\nam gone, I will laugh at you out of my grave.”', -7.33942), ('During all the day of Wednesday weeping friends stood around the bed,\nas the lamp of life flickered in its socket.\nEvery moment it was\nexpected that the emperor would breathe his last.\nAt two o’clock the\nnext morning the spirit took its flight, and the lifeless clay alone\nremained.\nThe grief-stricken empress closed the eyes of her departed\nhusband, kissed his hands, and “was carried out more dead than alive.”\nThus ended the male line of the house of Hapsburg, after five centuries\nof royal sway.\nThe emperor died on the 20th of October 1740, in the\nfifty-sixth year of his age.', -7.6034565), ('“There is nothing left for us, my dear lord, but to mingle and blend\nour weeping for the losses we have had.\nIf my head were a fountain of\ntears, it would not suffice for the grief I feel.', -7.638871), ('Had Frederick\nalone suffered, but few tears of sympathy would have been shed in his\nbehalf; but his ambition had stirred up a conflict which was soon to\nfill all Europe with the groans of the dying, the tears of the widow,\nthe wailings of the orphan.', -7.810666), ('“So saying, he seized me with one hand, striking me several blows in\nthe face with the other fist.\nOne of the blows struck me on the temple,\nso that I fell back, and should have split my head against a corner of\nthe wainscot had not Madam Sonsfeld caught me by the head-dress and\nbroken the fall.\nI lay on the floor without consciousness.\nThe king, in\nhis frenzy, proceeded to kick me out of a window which opened to the\nfloor.\nThe queen, my sisters, and the rest, ran between, preventing\nhim.\nThey all ranged themselves around me, which gave Mesdames De\nKamecke and Sonsfeld time to pick me up.\nThey put me in a chair in an\nembrasure of a window.\nMadam Sonsfeld supported my head, which was\nwounded and swollen with the blows I had received.', -8.121326), ('“For a long time my heart had been swelling.\nI could not restrain my\ntears at hearing all these indignities.\n‘Why do you cry?’ said he.\n‘Ah!\nah!\nI see that you are in low spirits.\nWe must dissipate that dark\nhumor.\nThe music waits us.\nI will drive that fit out of you by an air\nor two on the flute.’\nHe gave me his hand and led me into the other\nroom.\nI sat down to the harpsichord, which I inundated with my tears.”', -8.405759), ('“My brother overwhelmed me with caresses, but found me in so pitiable\na state that he could not restrain his tears.\nI was not able to stand\non my limbs, and felt like to faint every moment, so weak was I. He\ntold me that the king was very angry at the margraf for not letting his\nson make the campaign.\nI told him all the margraf’s reasons, and added\nsurely they were good, in respect of my dear husband.', -8.454806), ('“The queen was alone, in his majesty’s apartment, waiting for him as he\napproached.\nAs soon as he saw her at the end of the suite of rooms, and\nlong before he arrived in the one where she was, he cried out, ‘Your\nunworthy son has at last ended himself.\nYou have done with him.’', -8.466547), ('The king, Frederick I., had for some time been in a feeble state of\nhealth.\nThe burden of life had proved heavier than he was able to\nbear.\nHis wife was crazed, his home desolate, his health broken, and\nmany mortifications and disappointments had so crushed his spirits\nthat he had fallen into the deepest state of melancholy.\nAs he was\nsitting alone and sad in a chill morning of February, 1713, gazing\ninto the fire, absorbed in painful musings, suddenly there was a crash\nof the glass door of the apartment.\nHis frenzied wife, half-clad,\nwith disheveled hair, having escaped from her keepers, came bursting\nthrough the shattered panes.\nHer arms were gashed with glass, and she\nwas in the highest state of maniacal excitement.\nThe shock proved a\ndeath-blow to the infirm old king.', -8.528414), ('“His majesty gave it to her at the moment when she was about to\ntake leave of the two queens.\nThe princess threw her eyes on it and\nfell into a faint.\nThe king had almost done the like.\nHis tears\nflowed abundantly.\nThe princes and princesses were overcome with\nsorrow.\nAt last Gotter judged it time to put an end to this tragic\nscene.\nHe entered the hall almost like Boreas in the ballet of “The\nRose”--that is to say, with a crash.\nHe made one or two whirlwinds,\nclove the press, and snatched away the princess from the arms of the\nqueen-mother, took her in his own, and whisked her out of the hall.\nAll\nthe world followed.\nThe carriages were waiting in the court, and the\nprincess in a moment found herself in hers.', -8.67807), ('The scene would have had a tragical end had it continued, as my\nclothes were actually beginning to take fire.\nThe king, fatigued with\ncrying out and with his passion, at length put an end to it and went\naway.”', -8.839649), ('The Crown Prince, with what degree of sincerity we know not, was now in\ntears.\nProstrating himself before his majesty, he kissed his feet.\nThe\nking, much moved, was in tears also, and retired to another room.', -8.934852), ('“‘What!’ cried the queen, ‘have you had the barbarity to kill him?’', -9.091419), ('As he reached Potsdam and turned the corner of the palace, he saw,\nat a little distance, a small crowd gathered around some object; and\nsoon, to his inexpressible surprise, beheld his father, dressed, in\nhis wheel-chair, out of doors, giving directions about laying the\nfoundations of a house he had undertaken to build.\nThe old king, at the\nsight of his son, threw open his arms, and Frederick, kneeling before\nhim, buried his face in his fathers lap, and they wept together.\nThe\naffecting scene forced tears into the eyes of all the by-standers.\nFrederick William, upon recovering from a fainting-fit, had insisted\nthat he would not die, and had compelled his attendants to dress him\nand conduct him to the open air.', -9.106705), ('“I took my brother by the hand, and implored the king to restore his\naffection to him.\nThis scene was so touching that it drew tears from\nall present.\nI then approached the queen.\nShe was obliged to embrace\nme, the king being close opposite.\nBut I remarked that her joy was\nonly affected.\nI turned to my brother again.\nI gave him a thousand\ncaresses, to all which he remained cold as ice, and answered only in\nmonosyllables.\nI presented to him my husband, to whom he did not say\none word.\nI was astonished at this; but I laid the blame of it on the\nking, who was observing us, and who I judged might be intimidating my\nbrother.\nBut even the countenance of my brother surprised me.\nHe wore a\nproud air, and seemed to look down upon every body.”', -9.525305), ('“At last, whether by accident or design, the princess broke a glass.\nThis was the signal for our impetuous jollity, and an example that\nappeared highly worthy of our imitation.\nIn an instant all the glasses\nflew to the several corners of the room.\nAll the crystals, porcelain,\nmirrors, branches, bowls, and vases were broken into a thousand pieces.\nIn the midst of this universal destruction, the prince stood, like the\nman in Horace who contemplates the crush of worlds, with a look of\nperfect tranquillity.', -9.944563), ('Days of pain and nights of sleeplessness were his portion.\nA hard cough\nracked his frame.\nHis strength failed him.\nUlcerous sores broke out\nupon various parts of his body.\nA constant oppression at his chest\nrendered it impossible for him to lie down.\nGout tortured him.\nHis\npassage to the grave led through eighteen months of constant suffering.\nDr. Zimmermann, in his diary of the 2d of August, writes:', -9.951874), ('A bomb bursting in the room could scarcely have created a greater\npanic.\nKatte and Quantz seized the flutes and music-books, and rushed\ninto a wood-closet, where they stood quaking with terror.\nFritz threw\noff his dressing-gown, hurried on his military coat, and sat down at\nthe table, affecting to be deeply engaged with his books.\nThe king,\nfrowning like a thunder-cloud--for he always frowned when he drew near\nFritz--burst into the room.\nThe sight of the frizzled hair of his\nson “kindled the paternal wrath into a tornado pitch.”\nThe king had a\nwonderful command of the vocabulary of abuse, and was heaping epithets\nof vituperation upon the head of the prince, when he caught sight of\nthe dressing-gown behind a screen.\nHe seized the glittering garment,\nand, with increasing outbursts of rage, crammed it into the fire.', -10.182412), ('They threw water\nupon my face to bring me to life, which care I lamentably reproached\nthem with, death being a thousand times better in the pass things had\ncome to.\nThe queen was shrieking.\nHer firmness had entirely abandoned\nher.\nShe ran wildly about the room, wringing her hands in despair.\nMy brothers and sisters, of whom the youngest was not more than four\nyears old, were on their knees begging for me.\nThe king’s face was so\ndisfigured with rage that it was frightful to look upon.', -10.320096), ('Tears came into our eyes at this adventure.\n‘Our lot is\nvery deplorable,’ said I to my governess, ‘since it even touches the\ncreatures devoid of reason.\nThey have more compassion for us than men,\nwho treat us with so much cruelty.’”', -10.456603), ('“Cry had risen for the reserve, and that it must come on as fast as\npossible.\nWe ran at our utmost speed.\nOur lieutenant colonel fell,\nkilled, at the first.\nThen we lost our major, and, indeed, all the\nofficers but three.\nWe had crossed two successive ditches which lay\nin an orchard to the left of the first houses in Leuthen, and were\nbeginning to form in front of the village.\nBut there was no standing\nit.\nBesides a general cannonade, such as can scarcely be imagined,\nthere was a rain of case-shot upon this battalion, of which I had to\ntake command.\nA Prussian battalion at the distance of eighty paces\ngave the liveliest fire upon us.\nIt stood as if on the parade-ground,\nand waited for us without stirring.\nMy soldiers, who were tired with\nrunning, and had no cannon, soon became scattered.', -10.555728), ('Sir Thomas, somewhat discomposed, apologetically intimated that that\nwas not all he had to offer.', -10.558969), ('“MY DEAREST BROTHER,--Your letter and the one you wrote to\n  Voltaire have nearly killed me.\nWhat fatal resolutions, great\n  God!\nAh!\nmy dear brother, you say you love me, and you drive a\n  dagger into my heart.\nYour epistle, which I did receive, made\n  me shed rivers of tears.\nI am now ashamed of such weakness.\nMy misfortune would be so great that I should find worthier\n  resources than tears.\nYour lot shall be mine.\nI shall not survive\n  your misfortunes, or those of the house I belong to.\nYou may\n  calculate that such is my firm resolution.', -10.607515), ('“‘Oh, spare my brother,’ I cried, ‘and I will marry the Duke of\nWeissenfels.’\nBut in the great noise he did not hear me.\nAnd while I\nstrove to repeat it louder, Madam Sonsfeld clapped her handkerchief\non my mouth.\nPushing aside to get rid of the handkerchief, I saw Katte\ncrossing the square.\nFour soldiers were conducting him to the king.\nMy\nbrother’s trunks and his were following in the rear.\nPale and downcast,\nhe took off his hat to salute me.\nHe fell at the king’s feet imploring\npardon.”', -10.666325), ('Again, on the 5th of July, he wrote: “I write to apprise you, my dear\nsister, of the new grief that overwhelms us.\nWe have no longer a\nmother.\nThis loss puts the crown on my sorrows.\nI am obliged to act,\nand have not time to give free course to my tears.\nJudge, I pray you,\nof the situation of a feeling heart put to so severe a trial.\nAll\nlosses in the world are capable of being remedied, but those which\ndeath causes are beyond the reach of hope.”', -10.765699), ('“The queen had contrived in her bedroom a sort of labyrinth of screens,\nso arranged that I could escape the king without being seen, in case\nhe suddenly entered.\nOne day the king came and surprised us.\nI wished\nto escape, but found myself embarrassed among these screens, of which\nseveral fell, and prevented my getting out of the room.\nThe king was at\nmy heels, and tried to catch hold of me in order to beat me.\nNot being\nable any longer to escape, I placed myself behind my governess.\nThe\nking advanced so much that she was obliged to fall back, but, finding\nherself at length near the chimney, she was stopped.\nI found myself in\nthe alternative of bearing the fire or the blows.\nThe king overwhelmed\nme with abuse, and tried to seize me by the hair.\nI fell upon the\nfloor.', -10.772185), ('“I was sitting quiet in my apartment, busy with work, and some one\nreading to me, when the queen’s ladies rushed in, with a torrent of\ndomestics in their rear, who all bawled out, putting one knee to the\nground, that they were come to salute the Princess of Wales.\nI fairly\nbelieved these poor people had lost their wits.\nThey would not cease\noverwhelming me with noise and tumult; their joy was so great they knew\nnot what they did.\nWhen the farce had lasted some time, they told me\nwhat had occurred at the dinner.', -10.790153), ('The king, in utter exhaustion from hunger, sleeplessness, anxiety, and\nmisery, for a moment lost all self-control.\nAs with his little band of\nfugitives he vanished into the gloom of the night, not knowing where to\ngo, he exclaimed, in the bitterness of his despair, “O my God, my God,\nthis is too much!”', -10.893528), ('“He seemed embarrassed, and added, ‘But the universe is eternal.’', -10.928383), ('“Inarticulate notions, fancies, transient aspirations, he might have,\nin the background of his mind.\nOne day, sitting for a while out of\ndoors, gazing into the sun, he was heard to murmur, ‘Perhaps I shall be\nnearer thee soon;’ and, indeed, nobody knows what his thoughts were in\nthese final months.\nThere is traceable only a complete superiority to\nfear and hope; in parts, too, are half glimpses of a great motionless\ninterior lake of sorrow, sadder than any tears or complainings, which\nare altogether wanting to it.”', -10.949781), ('As the secretary, Podewils, had been taking notes, Lord Hyndford\nrequested permission to look at them, that he might see that no mistake\nhad been made.\nThe king assented, and then Lord Hyndford bowed himself\nout.\nThus ended the audience.', -10.959328), ('“Poor deaf Amelia (Frederick’s old love, now grown old and deaf)\nlistened wildly for some faint sound from those lips now mute forever.\nGeorge II.\nwas no more.\nHis grandson, George III, was now king.\n”[160]', -10.987436), ('“The head of Medusa,” writes the princess, “never produced such horror\nas did this piece of news to the queen.\nFor some time she could not\nutter a word, and changed color so often that we thought she would\nfaint.\nHer state went to my heart.\nI remained as immovable as she.\nEvery one present appeared full of consternation.”', -11.032809), ('Wilhelmina trembled, and said in a low tone to her mother,\n“This regards me.\nI have a dreading.”\n“No matter,” the worn and weary\nmother replied; “one must have firmness, and that is not what I shall\nwant.”\nThe queen retired with the ministers to the audience-chamber.', -11.04458), ('Here the king interrupted him, and with scornful gesture, “laying his\nfinger on his nose,” and in loud tones, exclaimed,', -11.065524), ('Another severe fit of coughing ensued, and the king, having with\ndifficulty got rid of the phlegm, said, “The mountain is passed; we\nshall be better now.”\nThese were his last words.\nThe expiring monarch\nsat in his chair, but in a state of such extreme weakness that he was\ncontinually sinking down, with his chest and neck so bent forward that\nbreathing was almost impossible.\nOne of his faithful valets took the\nking upon his knee and placed his left arm around his waist, while the\nking threw his right arm around the valet’s neck.', -11.091308), ('[182] “Kaunitz,” writes Frederick, “had a clear intellect, greatly\ntwisted by perversities of temper, especially by a self-conceit and\narrogance which were boundless.\nHe did not talk, but preach.\nAt the\nsmallest interruption he would stop short in indignant surprise.\nIt has\nhappened that at the council-board in Schönbrunn, when her imperial\nmajesty has asked some explanation of a word or thing not understood by\nher, Kaunitz made his bow and quitted the room.”', -11.109753), ('[148] “The symptoms we decipher in these letters, and otherwise, are\nthose of a man drenched in misery; but used to his black element,\nunaffectedly defiant of it, or not at the pains to defy it; occupied\nonly to do his very utmost in it, with or without success, till the end\ncome.”--CARLYLE.', -11.141499), ('“I, as well as many others, had hardly time to put on my clothes.\nAs\nI was leading my wife, with a young child in her arms, and my other\nchildren and servants before me--who were almost naked, having, ever\nsince the first fright, run about as they got out of bed--the bombs\nand red-hot balls fell round about us.\nThe bombs, in their bursting,\ndashed the houses to pieces, and every thing that was in their way.\nEvery body that could got out of the town as fast as possible.\nThe\ncrowd of naked and in the highest degree wretched people was vastly\ngreat.', -11.145831), ('“We rose from table.\nAs we had to pass near him in going out, he\naimed a great blow at me with his crutch, which, if I had not jerked\naway from it, would have ended me.\nHe chased me for a while in his\nwheel-chair, but the people drawing it gave me time to escape to the\nqueen’s chamber.”', -11.150951), ('He drank deeply, wandering about by night as if possessed by fiends.\n“He has not,” writes Captain Dickens, “gone to bed sober for a month\npast.”\nOnce he rose, about midnight, and, with a candle in his hand,\nentered the apartment of the queen, apparently in a state of extreme\nterror, saying that there was something haunting him.\nHis agitation was\nso great that a bed was made up for him there.', -11.167915), ('Faintly the\ndeath-stricken monarch exclaimed, “Call Amelia,” and instantly died.', -11.174745), ('But there is a decisive human sense in the heart of\nit; and there is such a dire hatred of empty bladders, unrealities, and\nhypocritical forms and pretenses, which he calls wind and humbug, as is\nvery strange indeed.”', -11.176718), ('It was all in vain.\nOn Sunday evening, September 5th, as the condemned\nyoung man was sitting alone in his prison cell, sadly awaiting his\ndoom, yet clinging to hopes of mercy, an officer entered with the\nstartling intelligence that the carriage was at the door to convey\nhim to the fortress of Cüstrin, at a few leagues distance, where he\nwas to be executed.\nFor a moment he was greatly agitated.\nHe soon,\nhowever, regained his equanimity.\nIt must indeed have been a fearful\ncommunication to one in the vigor of health, in the prime of youth,\nand surrounded by every thing which could render life desirable.\nTwo\nbrother-officers and the chaplain accompanied him upon this dismal\nmidnight ride.\nSilence, pious conversation, prayers, and occasional\ndevotional hymns occupied the hours.\nThe dawn of a cold winter’s\nmorning was just appearing as they reached the fortress.', -11.184814), ('“MY DEAREST BROTHER,--Death and a thousand torments could not\n  equal the frightful state I am in.\nThere run reports that make\n  me shudder.\nSome say that you are wounded, others that you are\n  dangerously ill.\nIn vain have I tormented myself to have news\n  of you.\nI can get none.\nOh, my dear brother, come what may, I\n  will not survive you.\nIf I am to continue in this frightful\n  uncertainty, I can not stand it.\nIn the name of God, bid some one\n  write to me.', -11.19519), ('“Pretty soon the king came back, and we, his children, ran to pay our\nrespects to him, by kissing his hands.\nBut he no sooner noticed me than\nrage and fury took possession of him.\nHe became black in the face, his\neyes sparkling fire, his mouth foaming.\n‘Infamous wretch!’ said he,\n‘dare you show yourself before me?\nGo and keep your scoundrel brother\ncompany.’', -11.203524), ('As night came on he fell into what may be called the death-sleep.\nHis breathing was painful and stertorous; his mind was wandering\nin delirious dreams; his voice became inarticulate.\nAt a moment of\nreturning consciousness he tried several times in vain to give some\nutterance to his thoughts.\nThen, with a despairing expression of\ncountenance, he sank back upon his pillow.\nFever flushed his cheeks,\nand his eyes assumed some of their wonted fire.\nThus the dying hours\nwere prolonged, as the friendless monarch, surrounded by respectful\nattendants, slowly descended to the grave.', -11.208739), ('At one o’clock in the morning of May 31 he sent for a clergyman, M.\nCochius, and seemed to be in great distress both of body and of mind.\n“I fear,” said he, “that I have a great deal of pain yet to suffer.\nI\ncan remember nothing.\nI can not pray.\nI have forgotten all my prayers.”\nM. Cochius endeavored to console him.\nAt the close of the interview the\nking said, sadly, “Fare thee well.\nWe shall most probably never meet\nagain in this world.”\nHe was then rolled, in his wheel-chair, into the\nchamber of the queen.', -11.211745), ('He instantly grasped\nhis antagonist, dragged him down, and beat him savagely with his hot\npan, amidst roars of laughter from the beer-stupefied bacchanals.', -11.216095), ('“I arrived at last about one in the morning.\nI instantly threw myself\non a bed.\nI was like to die of weariness, and in mortal terror that\nsomething had happened to my brother or the hereditary prince.\nThe\nlatter relieved me on his own score.\nHe arrived at last about four\no’clock; had still no news of my brother.\nI was beginning to doze a\nlittle, when they came to inform me that M. von Knobelsdorf wished to\nspeak to me from the Prince Royal.\nI darted out of bed and ran to him.”', -11.228079), ('But Wilhelmina evaded the oath upon the ground of religious scruples.\nAnxiety, confinement, and bad diet had so preyed upon her health that\nshe was reduced almost to a skeleton.\nThe following extract from her\njournal gives a graphic account of her painful condition:', -11.233247), ('“I know not what I have written.\nMy heart is torn in pieces.\nI feel that by dint of disquietude and alarms I am losing my\n  senses.\nOh, my dear, adorable brother, have pity on me.\nThe least\n  thing that concerns you pierces me to the heart.\nMight I die a\n  thousand deaths provided you lived and were happy!\nI can say no\n  more.\nGrief chokes me.\nI can only repeat that your fate shall be\n  mine; being, my dear brother, your', -11.235386), ('“Raising his eyes,” says Archenholtz, “he surveyed, with speechless\nemotion, the small remnant of his life-guard of foot, his favorite\nbattalion.\nIt was one thousand strong yesterday morning, hardly four\nhundred now.\nAll the soldiers of this chosen battalion were personally\nknown to him--their names, their age, their native place, their\nhistory.\nIn one day death had mowed them down.\nThey had fought like\nheroes, and it was for him they had died.\nHis eyes were visibly wet.\nDown his face rolled silent tears.”', -11.239893), ('“MY DEAR SISTER,--Your letter has arrived.\nI see in it your\n  regrets for the irreparable loss we have had of the best and\n  worthiest mother in this world.\nI am so overwhelmed by these\n  blows from within and without that I feel myself in a sort of\n  stupefaction.', -11.247427), ('No man of kindly sympathies could have thus wantonly wounded the\nfeelings of a poor old man who had, according to his capacity, served\nhimself, his father, and his grandfather, and who was just dropping\ninto the grave.\nA generous heart would have forgotten the foibles, and,\nremembering only the virtues, would have spoken words of cheer to the\nworld-weary heart, seeking a sad refuge in the glooms of the cloister.\nIt must be confessed that Frederick often manifested one of the worst\ntraits in human nature.\nHe took pleasure in inflicting pain upon others.', -11.254025), ('But the exertion, and the emotion occasioned by the interview with his\nson, prostrated him again.\nHe was taken back into his palace and to\nhis bed more dead than alive.\nReviving a little in the afternoon, he\ndictated to Frederick all the arrangements he wished to have adopted in\nreference to his funeral.\nThis curious document is characteristic, in\nevery line, of the strange man.\nHis coffin, which was of massive oak\ncarpentry, had been made for some time, and was in the king’s chamber\nawaiting its occupant.\nHe not unfrequently, with affected or real\ncomplacency, fixed his eyes upon it, saying, “I shall sleep right well\nthere.”\nIn the minute directions to his son as to his burial, he said,', -11.255554), ('Probably during all that time\nneither one of them saw a happy day.', -11.25737), ('He, however, revived a little, and was in great\npain, often exclaiming, “Pray for me; pray for me; my trust is in the\nSavior.”\nHe called for a mirror, and carefully examined his face for\nsome moments, saying at intervals, “Not so worn out as I thought.”\n“An\nugly face.”\n“As good as dead already.\n”[31]', -11.257832), ('But that he was fully awake to his perils, and keenly felt his\nsufferings, is manifest from the following extract from another of his\nletters:', -11.260094), ('“But she returned the next moment accompanying the cavalier, who was\nlaughing heartily, and whom I recognized for my brother.\nHis dress so\naltered him he seemed a different person.\nHe was in the best humor\npossible.\n‘I am come to bid you farewell once more, my dear sister,’\nsaid he; ‘and as I know the friendship you have for me, I will not\nkeep you ignorant of my designs.\nI go, and do not come back.\nI can\nnot endure the usage I suffer.\nMy patience is driven to an end.\nIt is\na favorable opportunity for flinging off that odious yoke.\nI will\nglide out of Dresden and get across to England, where, I do not doubt,\nI shall work out your deliverance too, when I am got thither.\nSo I\nbeg you calm yourself.', -11.269401), ('It was a dreary winter to Frederick in Breslau.\nSad, silent, and\noften despairing, he was ever inflexibly resolved to struggle till\nthe last possible moment, and, if need be, to bury himself beneath\nthe ruins of his kingdom.\nAll his tireless energies he devoted to the\nHerculean work before him.\nNo longer did he affect gayety or seek\nrecreations.\nSecluded, solitary, sombre, he took counsel of no one.\nIn\nthe possession of absolute power, he issued his commands as with the\nauthority of a god.', -11.2754545), ('“I forewarn you of this, that, if we should meet again in flesh\nand bone, you might not feel yourself too violently shocked by my\nappearance.\nThere remains nothing to me unaltered but my heart, which,\nas long as I breathe, will retain sentiments of esteem and tender\nfriendship for my good mamma.\nAdieu.\n”[159]', -11.275836), ('His feet and legs became cold.\nDeath was stealing its way toward the\nvitals.\nAbout nine o’clock Wednesday evening a painful cough commenced,\nwith difficulty of breathing, and an ominous rattle in the throat.\nOne\nof his dogs sat by his bedside, and shivered with cold; the king made a\nsign for them to throw a quilt over it.', -11.27659), ('“Think of the sounds,” writes Carlyle, “uttered from human windpipes,\nshrill with rage, some of them, hoarse others with ditto; of the\nvituperations, execrations, printed and vocal--grating harsh thunder\nupon Frederick and this new course of his.\nHuge melody of discords,\nshrieking, groaning, grinding on that topic through the afflicted\nuniverse in general.”', -11.277876), ('The\ncast-iron king, rejoicing in hardship and exposure, robbed his delicate\nchild even of needful sleep, saying, “Too much sleep stupefies a\nfellow.”', -11.297079), ('“‘To the heart,’ the doctor replied.\n‘And in about an hour it will\ncease to beat at all.’', -11.300224), ('He was carried to his bed, which\nhe never left, dying in a few days.\nHis grandson Frederick was then\nfourteen months old.', -11.3031025), ('“The body of Frederick is a ruin, but his soul is still here, and\nreceives his friends and his tasks as formerly.\nAsthma, dropsy,\nerysipelas, continual want of sleep; for many months past he has\nnot been in bed, but sits day and night in an easy-chair, unable to\nget breath except in that posture.\nHe said one morning to somebody\nentering, ‘If you happened to want a night-watcher, I could suit you\nwell.\n’”[200]', -11.308013), ('For such a mind and such a body there could be no possible peace or\nrepose in the dying-chamber.\nFeverish, restless, sleepless, impatient,\nhe knew not what to do with himself.\nHe was incessantly passing from\nhis bed to his wheel-chair and back again, irascibly demanding this and\nthat, complaining of every body and every thing.\nSometimes he would\ndeclare that he would no longer be sick, but would dress and be well;\nand scarcely would he get his clothes on ere he would sink in fainting\nweakness, as though he had not another hour to live.\nThus the sad days\nof sickness wore away as death drew near.', -11.312721), ('He had no powers of graceful speech, but spent his\nenergetic, joyless life in grumbling and growling.', -11.3158865), ('“My dialogue with the king was very lively; but the king was in such\nsuffering, and so straitened for breath, I was myself anxious to\nshorten it.\nThat same evening I traveled on.”', -11.316783), ('“It will have been easy for you to conceive my grief when you\n  reflect upon the loss I have had.\nThere are some misfortunes\n  which are reparable by constancy and courage, but there are\n  others against which all the firmness with which one can arm\n  one’s self, and all the reasonings of philosophers, are only vain\n  and useless attempts at consolation.[121]\nOf the latter kind is\n  the one with which my unhappy fate overwhelms me, at a moment\n  the most embarrassing and the most anxious of my whole life.\nI\n  have not been so sick as you have heard.\nMy only complaints are\n  colics, sometimes hemorrhoidal, and sometimes nephritic.', -11.317907), ('In the end, there was nothing for it but proceeding\nto a divorce.\n”[176]', -11.334253), ('I see the\ngreatest man of his age, my brother, my friend, reduced to the most\nfrightful extremity.\nI see my whole family exposed to dangers and,\nperhaps, destruction.\nWould to Heaven I were alone loaded with all the\nmiseries I have described to you.”', -11.337606), ('As the king cast his eye over the blood-stained field, covered with the\nwounded and the dead, for a moment he seemed overcome with the aspect\nof misery, and exclaimed, “When, oh when will my woes cease?”', -11.34109), ('All that could be said of the most\nvaried and agreeable kind was what came from him, in a gentle tone of\nvoice, rather low, and very agreeable from his manner of moving his\nlips, which possessed an inexpressible grace.\n”[198]', -11.344074), ('These solemn tones of sacred psalmody fell impressively upon the\near of the king when his earthly all was trembling in the balance.\nReligionless and atheistic as he was, he could not repress some visible\nemotion.\nOne of his officers, aware of the king’s avowed contempt for\nevery thing of a religious nature, inquired,', -11.344942), ('“Yesterday, July 3d, the king sent for me, in the afternoon, the first\ntime he has seen any body since the news came.\nI had the honor to\nremain with him in his closet.\nI must own I was most sensibly affected\nto see him indulging his grief, and giving way to the warmest filial\naffections; recalling to mind the many obligations he had to her late\nmajesty; all she had suffered, and how nobly she had borne it; the good\nshe did to every body; the one comfort he now had, that he tried to\nmake her last years more agreeable.”', -11.349519), ('“I have passed my winter like a Carthusian monk.\nI dine alone.\nI spend\nmy life in reading and writing, and I do not sup.\nWhen one is sad, it\nbecomes, at last, too burdensome to hide one’s grief continually.\nIt\nis better to give way to it than to carry one’s gloom into society.\nNothing solaces me but the vigorous application required in steady and\ncontinuous labor.\nThis distraction does force one to put away painful\nideas while it lasts.\nBut alas!\nno sooner is the work done than these\nfatal companions present themselves again, as if livelier than ever.\nMaupertuis was right; the sum of evil does certainly surpass that of\ngood.\nBut to me it is all one.\nI have almost nothing more to lose; and\nmy few remaining days--what matters it much of what complexion they\nbe?”', -11.350218), ('“Yes, death or victory,” they shouted.\nThen from loving lips the cheer\nran along the line, “Good-night, Fritz.”', -11.357936), ('“Life’s labor done, securely laid\n      In this, their last retreat:\nUnheeded o’er their silent dust\n      The storms of life shall beat.”', -11.358468), ('But\nhis nervous excitement rendered him so restless, that most of the time\nhe was strolling about among the guard parties, and warming himself by\ntheir fires.', -11.360741), ('“I got to Berneck at ten.\nThe heat was excessive.\nI found myself quite\nworn out with the little journey I had taken.\nI alighted at the house\nwhich had been got ready for my brother.\nWe waited for him, and in\nvain waited till three in the afternoon.\nAt three we lost patience;\nhad dinner served without him.\nWhile we were at table there came on\na frightful thunder-storm.\nI have witnessed nothing so terrible.\nThe\nthunder roared and reverberated among the rocky cliffs which begirdle\nBerneck, and it seemed as if the world were going to perish.\nA deluge\nof rain succeeded the thunder.', -11.36122), ('“I was shut up in my bedchamber, where I saw nobody, and continued\nalways to fast.\nI was really dying of hunger.\nI read as long as there\nwas daylight, and made remarks upon what I read.\nMy health began\nto give way.\nI became as thin as a skeleton from want of food and\nexercise.\nOne day Madam De Sonsfeld and myself were at table, looking\nsadly at one another, having nothing to eat but soup made with salt\nand water, and a ragout of old bones, full of hairs and other dirt,\nwhen we heard a knocking at the window.\nSurprised, we rose hastily to\nsee what it was.\nWe found a raven with a morsel of bread in its beak,\nwhich it laid down on the sill of the window so soon as it saw us, and\nflew away.', -11.361675), ('“Above fifty thousand human beings were on the palace esplanade and the\nstreets around, swaying hither and thither in an agony of expectation,\nin alternate paroxysms of joy, of terror, and of woe.\nOften enough\nthe opposite paroxysms were simultaneous in the different groups.\nMen\ncrushed down by despair were met by men leaping into the air for very\ngladness.”', -11.362808), ('“I added that my niece had burned his ode from fear that it should\nbe imputed to me.\nHe believed me and thanked me; not, however,\nwithout some reproaches for having burned the best verses he had ever\nmade.\n”[128]', -11.368191), ('As the king was about to take leave of his child, whom he had treated\nso cruelly, he was very much overcome by emotion.\nIt is a solemn hour,\nin any family, when a daughter leaves the parental roof, never to\nreturn again but as a visitor.\nWhether the extraordinary development of\nfeeling which the stern old monarch manifested on the occasion was the\nresult of nervous sensibility, excited by strong drink or by parental\naffection, it is not easy to decide.\nWilhelmina, in a few words of\nintense emotion, bade her father farewell.', -11.36836), ('It was midnight.\n“Within doors all is silence; around it the dark earth\nis silent, above it the silent stars.”\nThus for two hours the attendant\nsat motionless, holding the dying king.\nNot a word was spoken; no sound\ncould be heard but the painful breathing which precedes death.', -11.375294), ('Scarcely any thing can be more sad than the record of the last days\nand hours of this extraordinary man.\nFew of the children of Adam have\npassed a more joyless life.\nFew have gone down to a grave shrouded with\ndeeper gloom.\nNone of those Christian hopes which so often alleviate\npain, and take from death its sting, cheered his dying chamber.\nTo him\nthe grave was but the portal to the abyss of annihilation.', -11.383858), ('For fifteen years she had been a mourning widow.\nHer husband had died\non the 18th of August.\nThe 18th day of every month had since then been\na day of solitary prayer.\nOn the 18th of every August she descended\ninto the tomb, and sat for a season engaged in prayer by the side of\nthe mouldering remains of her spouse.', -11.388407), ('[114] “Indeed, there is in him, in those grim days, a tone as of\ntrust in the Eternal, as of real religious piety and faith, scarcely\nnoticeable elsewhere in his history.\nHis religion, and he had, in\nwithered forms, a good deal of it, if we will look well, being almost\nalways in a strictly voiceless state--nay, ultra voiceless, or voiced\nthe wrong way, as is too well known!”--CARLYLE.', -11.389538), ('While\nstudiously maturing his plans for the future, he assumed the air of a\nthoughtless man of fashion, and dazzled the eyes and bewildered the\nminds of his guests with feasts and pageants.', -11.395193), ('“‘Oh dear me!’\nI exclaimed; ‘do let me have enough of dancing this one\nnew time.\nIt may be long before it comes again.’', -11.409308), ('On the 20th of April he wrote: “Our situation is disagreeable, but my\ndetermination is taken.\nIf we needs must fight, we will do it like men\ndriven desperate.\nNever was there a greater peril than that I am now\nin.\nTime, at its own pleasure, will untie this knot, or destiny, if\nthere is one, determine the event.\nThe game I play is so high, one can\nnot contemplate the issue with cold blood.\nPray for the return of my\ngood luck.”', -11.424053), ('“My children, I could not come to you sooner, or this calamity should\nnot have happened.\nHave a little patience, and I will cause every thing\nto be rebuilt.”', -11.425537)]
====================================================================================================
Query: who broke in uncontrollable sobbings?
result 0 related score -1.2050501108169556
“I was in such a state I know not how we got down stairs.
I remember
only that it was in a concert of lamentable sobbings.
Madame, the
Marchioness of Schwedt, who had been named to attend the princess to
Stralsund, on the Swedish frontier, this high lady, and the two dames
D’Atours, who were for Sweden itself, having sprung into the same
carriage, the door of it was shut with a slam, the postillions cracked,
the carriage shot away, and disappeared from our eyes.
In a moment the
king and court lost sight of the beloved Ulrique forever.
”[73]
====================================================================================================
Query: who broke in uncontrollable sobbings?
result 1 related score -2.591266632080078
Thus influenced, she yielded.
Tears flooded her eyes, and her voice was
broken with sobs as she said, “I am ready to sacrifice myself for the
peace of the family.”
The deputation withdrew, leaving the princess in
despair.
Baron Grumkow conveyed to the king the pleasing intelligence
of her submission.
====================================================================================================
Query: who broke in uncontrollable sobbings?
result 2 related score -4.962733268737793
“The queen went to her own apartment to fetch it.
I ran in to her there
for a moment.
She was out of her senses, wringing her hands, crying
incessantly, and exclaiming, ‘O God, my son, my son!’
Breath failed me.
I fell fainting into the arms of Madam Sonsfeld.
The queen took the
writing-desk to the king.
He immediately broke it open and tore out
the letters, with which he went away.
The queen came back to us.
We
were comforted by the assurance, from some of the attendants, that my
brother at least was not dead.
[('It seems to be ever the doom of an army to encounter mud and rain.\nIt was cold, gloomy, December weather.\nThe troops were drenched and\nchilled by the floods continually falling from the clouds.\nThe advance\nof the army was over a flat country where the water stood in pools.\nAll day long, Monday and Tuesday, the rain continued to fall without\nintermission.\nBut the Prussian army, under its impetuous leader, paid\nno regard to the antagonistic elements.', -2.3950453), ('The winter was long, cold, and dreary.\nFierce storms swept the fields,\npiling up the snow in enormous drifts.\nBut for this cruel war, the\nPrussian, Russian, and Austrian peasants, who had been dragged into\nthe armies to slaughter each other, might have been in their humble\nbut pleasant homes, by the bright fireside, in the enjoyment of all\ncomforts.', -2.6830437), ('“The snow lies ell-deep,” writes Archenholtz; “snow-tempests, sleet,\nfrost.\nThe soldiers bread is a block of ice, impracticable to human\nteeth till you thaw it.”', -4.216607), ('Sunday, July 6th, was a day of terrible heat.\nAt three o’clock in the\nmorning the Prussian troops were again in motion.\nThere was not a\nbreath of wind.\nThe blazing sun grew hotter and hotter.\nThere was no\nshade.\nThe soldiers were perishing of thirst.\nStill the command was\n“onward,” “onward.”\nIn that day’s march one hundred and five Prussian\nsoldiers dropped dead in their tracks.', -4.2474813), ('In one of the letters of the Crown Prince, speaking of the mode of\ntraveling with his father, he says: “We have now been traveling near\nthree weeks.\nThe heat is as great as if we were riding astride upon\na ray of the sun.\nThe dust is like a dense cloud, which renders us\ninvisible to the eyes of the by-standers.\nIn addition to this, we\ntravel like the angels, without sleep, and almost without food.\nJudge,\nthen, what my condition must be.”', -4.4933267), ('The king seemed to think it effeminate and a disgrace to him as a\nsoldier ever to appear in a carriage.\nHe never _drove_, but constantly\n_rode_ from Berlin to Potsdam.\nIn the winter of 1785, when he was quite\nfeeble, he wished to go from Sans Souci, which was exposed to bleak\nwinds, and where they had only hearth fires, to more comfortable winter\nquarters in the new palace.\nThe weather was stormy.\nAfter waiting a few\ndays for such a change as would enable him to go on horseback, and the\ncold and wind increasing, he was taken over in a sedan-chair in the\nnight, when no one could see him.', -4.8097596), ('In the latter part of April, the weather being very fine, the king\ndecided to leave Berlin and retire to his rural palace at Potsdam.\nIt seems, however, that he was fully aware that his days were nearly\nended, for upon leaving the city he said, “Fare thee well, then,\nBerlin; I am going to die in Potsdam.”\nThe winter had been one of\nalmost unprecedented severity, and the month of May was cold and\nwet.\nAs the days wore on the king’s health fluctuated, and he was\ncontinually struggling between life and death.\nThe king, with all his\ngreat imperfections, was a thoughtful man.\nAs he daily drew near the\ngrave, the dread realities of the eternal world oppressed his mind.\nHe sent for three clergymen of distinction, to converse with them\nrespecting his preparation for the final judgment.', -5.4485784), ('The transparent atmosphere, the balmy air,\ntransmitting with wonderful accuracy the most distant sounds, the\nsmooth, wide-spreading prairie, the hamlets, to which distance lent\nenchantment, surmounted by the towers or spires of the churches,\nthe winding columns of infantry and cavalry, their polished weapons\nflashing in the sunlight, the waving of silken and gilded banners,\nwhile bugle peals and bursts of military airs floated now faintly, and\nnow loudly, upon the ear, the whole scene being bathed in the rays of\nthe most brilliant of spring mornings--all together presented war in\nits brightest hues, divested of every thing revolting.[65]', -5.5771437), ('The morning of a hot August day dawned sultry, the wind breathing\ngently from the south.\nBands of Cossacks hovered around upon the wings\nof the Prussian army, occasionally riding up to the infantry ranks\nand discharging their pistols at them.\nThe Prussians were forbidden\nto make any reply.\n“The infantry pours along like a plowman drawing\nhis furrow, heedless of the circling crows.”\nThe Cossacks set fire to\nZorndorf.\nIn a few hours it was in ashes, while clouds of suffocating\nsmoke were swept through the Russian lines.', -5.762352), ('Thus affairs continued through the winter.\nThere were two frostbitten\narmies facing each other on the bleak plains.\nWith apparently not much\nto be gained in presenting this front of defiance, each party breasted\nthe storms and the freezing gales, alike refusing to yield one inch of\nground.', -5.7984343), ('Schweidnitz was strictly blockaded during the winter.\nOn the 15th of\nMarch, the weather being still cold, wet, and stormy, Frederick marched\nfrom Breslau to attack the place.\nHis siege artillery was soon in\nposition.\nWith his accustomed impetuosity he commenced the assault,\nand, after a terrific bombardment of many days, on the night of the\n15th of April took the works by storm.\nThe garrison, which had dwindled\nfrom eight thousand to four thousand five hundred, was all captured,\nwith fifty-one guns, thirty-five thousand dollars of money, and a large\nquantity of stores.\nThus the whole of Silesia was again in the hands of\nFrederick.', -5.830303), ('The freezing gales of winter soon came, when neither army could keep\nthe open field.\nFrederick established his winter quarters at Breslau.\nGeneral Loudon, with his Austrians, was about thirty miles southwest of\nhim at Kunzendorf.\nThus ended the sixth campaign.', -6.276171), ('In the twilight of Tuesday evening, a dense\nfog enveloping the landscape, Frederick, with his concentrated force,\nfell impetuously upon a division of the Austrian army encamped in the\nvillage of Hennersdorf.', -6.4416146), ('“I have been to Lebus.\nThere is excellent land there; fine weather for\nthe husbandmen.\nMajor Röder passed this way, and dined with me last\nWednesday.\nHe has got a fine fellow for my most all-gracious father’s\nregiment.\nI depend on my most all-gracious father’s grace that he will\nbe good to me.\nI ask for nothing, and for no happiness in the world\nbut what comes from him; and hope that he will some day remember me in\ngrace, and give me the blue coat to put on again.”', -6.46234), ('Monday morning the storm ceased.\nThere was a perfect calm.\nFor leagues\nthe spotless snow, nearly two feet deep, covered all the extended\nplains.\nThe anxiety of Frederick had been so great that for two nights\nhe had not been able to get any sleep.\nHe had plunged into this war\nwith the full assurance that he was to gain victory and glory.\nIt now\nseemed inevitable that he was to encounter but defeat and shame.', -6.631097), ('As is usual under such circumstances, a quarrel arose among his\nofficers.\nYoung Leopold proposed one plan, Marshal Schwerin another.\nThey were both bold, determined men.\nFrederick found it difficult\nto keep the peace between them.\nIt was now October.\nWinter, with\nits piercing gales, and ice, and snow, was fast approaching.\nIt was\nnecessary to seek winter quarters.\nFrederick, with the main body of his\narmy, took possession of Budweis, on the Upper Moldau.\nA detachment was\nstationed at Neuhaus, about thirty miles northeast of Budweis.', -6.8351784), ('“It is almost touching,” Mr. Carlyle writes, “to reflect how\nunexpectedly, like a bolt out of the blue, all this had come upon\nFrederick, and how it overset his fine programme for the winter at\nReinsberg, and for his life generally.\nNot the Peaceable magnanimities,\nbut the Warlike, are the thing appointed Frederick this winter, and\nmainly henceforth.\nThose ‘golden or soft radiances’ which we saw\nin him, admirable to Voltaire and to Frederick, and to an esurient\nphilanthropic world, it is not those, it is the ‘steel bright or\nstellar kind’ that are to become predominant in Frederick’s existence;\ngrim hail-storms, thunders, and tornado for an existence to him instead\nof the opulent genialities and halcyon weather anticipated by himself\nand others.', -6.875504), ('“The enemy threw such a multitude of bombs and red-hot balls into the\ncity that by nine o’clock in the morning it burned, with great fury,\nin three different places.\nThe fire could not be extinguished, as the\nhouses were closely built, and the streets narrow.\nThe air appeared\nlike a shower of fiery rain and hail.\nThe surprised inhabitants had not\ntime to think of any thing but of saving their lives by getting into\nthe open fields.', -6.9810367), ('The night was very dark and cold.\nA wintry wind swept the bleak, frozen\nfields.\nStill the routed Austrians pressed on.\nStill the tireless\nPrussians pursued.\nThe Prussian soldiers were Protestants.\nMany of\nthem were well instructed in religion.\nAs they pressed on through the\ngloom, sweeping the road before them with artillery discharges, their\nvoices simultaneously burst forth into a well-known Church hymn, a sort\nof Protestant _\nTe Deum_--', -7.131981), ('His Polish majesty had placed his feeble band of troops in the vicinity\nof Pirna, on the Elbe, amidst the defiles of a mountainous country,\nwhere they could easily defend themselves against superior numbers.\nWinter was rapidly approaching.\nIn those high latitudes and among those\nbleak hills the storms of winter ever raged with terrible severity.\nThe\nAustrians were energetically accumulating their forces in Bohemia to\nact against the Prussians.\nThe invasion of Saxony by Frederick, without\nany apparent provocation, roused all Europe to intensity of hatred and\nof action.', -7.1506195), ('The next morning, in the intense cold of midwinter, Frederick set\nout several hours before daylight for the city of Prague, which the\nFrench and Bavarians had captured on the 25th of November.\nDeclining\nall polite attentions, for business was urgent, he eagerly sought M.\nDe Séchelles, the renowned head of the commissariat department, and\nmade arrangements with him to perform the extremely difficult task of\nsupplying the army with food in a winter’s campaign.', -7.1953325), ('“The king is very chilly, and is always enveloped in pelisses, and\ncovered with feather-beds.\nHe has not been in bed for six weeks, but\nsleeps in his chair for a considerable time together, and always\nturned to the right side.\nThe dropsical swelling augments.\nHe sees\nit, but will not perceive what it is, or at least will not appear to\ndo so, but talks as if it were a swelling accompanying convalescence,\nand proceeding from previous weakness.\nHe is determined not to die if\nviolent remedies can save him, but to submit to punctures and incisions\nto draw off the water.”', -7.2352276), ('“The next day there was a great promenade.\nWe were all in phaetons,\ndressed out in our best.\nAll the nobility followed in carriages,\nof which there were eighty-five.\nThe king, in a Berline, led the\nprocession.\nHe had beforehand ordered the round we were to take, and\nvery soon fell asleep.\nThere came on a tremendous storm of wind and\nrain, in spite of which we continued our procession at a foot’s pace.\nIt may easily be imagined what state we were in.\nWe were as wet as if\nwe had been in the river.\nOur hair hung about our ears, and our gowns\nand head-dresses were destroyed.\nWe got out at last, after three hours’\nrain, at Monbijou, where there was to be a great illumination and ball.', -7.259507), ('Count Wallis, who was intrusted with the defense of the place, had\na garrison of about a thousand men, with fifty-eight heavy guns and\nseveral mortars, and a large amount of ammunition.\nGlogau was in the\nlatitude of fifty-two, nearly six degrees north of Quebec.\nIt was a\ncold wintry night.\nThe ground was covered with snow.\nWater had been\nthrown upon the glacis, so that it was slippery with ice.\nPrince\nLeopold in person led one of the columns.\nThe sentinels upon the walls\nwere not alarmed until three impetuous columns, like concentrating\ntornadoes, were sweeping down upon them.\nThey shouted “To arms!”\nThe\nsoldiers, roused from sleep, rushed to their guns.\nTheir lightning\nflashes were instantly followed by war’s deepest thunders, as discharge\nfollowed discharge in rapid succession.', -7.5683336), ('Sunday morning, the 9th, dawned luridly.\nThe storm raged unabated.\nThe\nair was so filled with the falling snow that one could not see the\ndistance of twenty paces, and the gale was piling up large drifts on\nthe frozen plains.\nNeither army could move.\nNeipperg was in advance\nof Frederick, and had established his head-quarters at the village\nof Mollwitz, a few miles northwest of Pogerell.\nHe had therefore got\nfairly between the Prussians and Ohlau.\nBut Frederick knew not where\nthe Austrian army was.\nFor six-and-thirty hours the wild storm drove\nboth Prussians and Austrians to such shelter as could be obtained in\nthe several hamlets which were scattered over the extended plain.', -7.56896), ('Saturday night was very dark.\nA thick mist mantled the landscape.\nAbout\nmidnight, the Russians, feigning an artillery attack upon a portion of\nthe Prussian lines, commenced a retreat.\nGroping their way through the\nwoods south of Zorndorf, they reached the great road to Landsberg, and\nretreated so rapidly that Frederick could annoy them but little.', -7.688223), ('“MY DEAR SON FRITZ,--I am glad you need no more medicine.\nBut\n  you must have a care of yourself some days yet, for the severe\n  weather gives me and every body colds.\nSo pray be on your guard.', -7.7121325), ('On the southern coasts of the Baltic Sea, between the latitudes\nof 52° and 54°, there lies a country which was first revealed to\ncivilized eyes about three hundred years before the birth of Christ.\nThe trading adventurers from Marseilles, who landed at various points\nupon the coast, found it a cold, savage region of lakes, forests,\nmarshy jungles, and sandy wastes.\nA shaggy tribe peopled it, of\nsemi-barbarians, almost as wild as the bears, wolves, and swine\nwhich roamed their forests.\nAs the centuries rolled on, centuries of\nwhich, in these remote regions, history takes no note, but in which\nthe gloomy generations came and went, shouting, fighting, weeping,\ndying, gradually the aspect of a rude civilization spread over those\ndreary solitudes.', -7.7161713), ('It was now about noon.\nThe sun shone brightly on the glistening snow.\nThere was no wind.\nTwenty thousand peasants, armed and drilled as\nsoldiers, were facing each other upon either side, to engage in mutual\nslaughter, with no animosity between them--no cause of quarrel.\nIt is\none of the unrevealed mysteries of Providence that any one man should\nthus have it in his power to create such wide-spread death and misery.\nThe Austrians had a splendid body of cavalry, eight thousand six\nhundred in number.\nFrederick had but about half as many horsemen.\nThe\nPrussians had sixty pieces of artillery, the Austrians but eighteen.', -7.735709), ('On the 26th of January Frederick set out from Glatz, with a strong\ncortége, for Olmütz, far away to the southeast.\nThis place his troops\nhad occupied for a month past.\nHis route led through a chain of\nmountains, whose bleak and dreary defiles were clogged with drifted\nsnow, and swept by freezing gales.\nIt was a dreadful march, accompanied\nby many disasters and much suffering.', -7.8018804), ('“I got to Berneck at ten.\nThe heat was excessive.\nI found myself quite\nworn out with the little journey I had taken.\nI alighted at the house\nwhich had been got ready for my brother.\nWe waited for him, and in\nvain waited till three in the afternoon.\nAt three we lost patience;\nhad dinner served without him.\nWhile we were at table there came on\na frightful thunder-storm.\nI have witnessed nothing so terrible.\nThe\nthunder roared and reverberated among the rocky cliffs which begirdle\nBerneck, and it seemed as if the world were going to perish.\nA deluge\nof rain succeeded the thunder.', -7.8059072), ('In pleasant weather he took a long walk after dinner, and generally\nat so rapid a pace that it was difficult for most persons to keep up\nwith him.\nAt four o’clock the secretaries brought to him the answers\nto the letters which they had received from him in the morning.\nHe\nglanced them over, examining some with care.\nThen, until six o’clock,\nhe devoted himself to reading, to literary compositions, and to the\naffairs of the Academy, in which he took a very deep interest.\nAt six\no’clock he had a private musical concert, at which he performed himself\nupon the flute.\nHe was passionately fond of this instrument, and\ncontinued to play upon it until, in old age, his teeth decaying, he was\nunable to produce the sounds he wished.', -8.1038065), ('It was now half past four o’clock.\nThe sun of the short November day\nwas rapidly sinking.\nHasty preparations were made for another charge,\naided by a body of Prussian cavalry which had just reached the ground.\nThe gathering twilight was darkening hill and valley as the third\nassault was made.\nIt was somewhat successful.\nBy this time the two\narmies were quite intermingled.\nMarshal Daun was severely wounded, and\nwas taken into Torgau to have his wounds dressed.\nThe hour of six had\nnow arrived.\nIt was a damp, cloudy, dark night.\nThe combatants were\nguided mainly by the flash of the muskets and the guns.\n“The night was\nso dark,” says Archenholtz, “that you could not see your hand before\nyou.”\nStill for two hours the battle raged.', -8.15443), ('The sun rose clear and cloudless over the plain, soon to be crimsoned\nwith blood and darkened by the smoke of battle.\nThe Prussians took\nposition in accordance with very minute directions given to the young\nPrince Leopold by Frederick.\nIt was manifest to the most unskilled\nobserver that the storm of battle would rage over many miles, as the\ninfantry charged to and fro; as squadrons of strongly-mounted cavalry\nswept the field; as bullets, balls, and shells were hurled in all\ndirections from the potent enginery of war.', -8.258001), ('In the cold of the winter morning the Old Dessauer carefully\nreconnoitred the position of his foes.\nTheir batteries seemed\ninnumerable, protected by earth-works, and frowning along a cliff which\ncould only be reached by plunging into a gully and wading through a\nhalf-frozen bog.\nThere was, however, no alternative but to advance or\nretreat.\nHe decided to advance.', -8.275017), ('“The sure fact, and the forever memorable, is that on Wednesday,\nthe third day of it, from four in the morning, when the manœuvres\nbegan, till well after ten o’clock, when they ended, there was rain\nlike Noah’s; rain falling as from buckets and water-spouts; and that\nFrederick, so intent upon his business, paid not the slightest regard\nto it, but rode about, intensely inspecting, in lynx-eyed watchfulness\nof every thing, as if no rain had been there.\nWas not at the pains\neven to put on his cloak.\nSix hours of such down-pour; and a weakly\nold man of seventy-three past!\nOf course he was wetted to the bone.\nOn\nreturning to head-quarters, his boots were found full of water; ‘when\npulled off, it came pouring from them like a pair of pails.\n’”[195]', -8.325642), ('Winter was now approaching.\nThe Austrians in Saxony made a desperate\nattack upon Prince Henry, and were routed with much loss.\nThe shattered\nAustrian army retired to Bohemia for winter quarters.\nUnder the\ncircumstances, it was a victory of immense importance to Frederick.\nUpon receiving the glad tidings, he wrote to Henry:', -8.387133), ('Frederick was overjoyed.\nHe regarded the day as his own, and the\nRussian army as at his mercy.\nHe sent a dispatch to anxious Berlin, but\nsixty miles distant: “The Russians are beaten.\nRejoice with me.”\nIt was\none of the hottest of August days, without a breath of wind.\nNearly\nevery soldier of the Prussian army had been brought into action against\nthe left wing only of the foe.\nAfter a long march and an exhausting\nfight, they were perishing with thirst.\nFor twelve hours many of them\nhad been without water.\nPanting with heat, thirst, and exhaustion, they\nwere scarcely capable of any farther efforts.', -8.396015), ('On the 10th of October Frederick was attacked by the gout, and\nfor three weeks was confined to his room.\nThis extraordinary man,\nstruggling, as it were, in the jaws of destruction, beguiled the weary\nhours of sickness and pain by writing a treatise upon _Charles XII.\nand\nhis Military Character_.\nOn the 24th of October, the Russian commander,\nquarreling with General Daun, set out, with his whole force, for home.\nOn the 1st of November the king was carried in a litter to Glogau.\nCold weather having now set in, General Daun commenced a march for\nBohemia, to seek winter quarters nearer his supplies.\nFrederick, his\nhealth being restored, rejoined his troops under Henry, which were near\nDresden.\nThe withdrawal of both the Russians and Austrians from Silesia\ngreatly elated him.', -8.626977), ('Frederick, having carefully scanned the Austrian lines for an instant\nor two, gave the signal, and all his batteries opened their thunders.\nUnder cover of that storm of iron, several thousand of the cavalry, led\nby the veteran General Bredow, deployed from behind some eminences,\nand first at a gentle trot, and then upon the most impetuous run, with\nflashing sabres, hurled themselves upon the left wing of the Austrian\nlines.\nThe ground was dry and sandy, and a prodigious cloud of dust\nenveloped them.\nFor a moment the tornado, vital with human energies,\nswept on, apparently unobstructed.\nThe first line of the Austrian horse\nwas met, crushed, annihilated.\nBut the second stood as the rock breasts\nthe waves, horse against horse, rider against rider, sabre against\nsabre.', -8.861452), ('Late in the fall of 1739 the health of Frederick William was so rapidly\nfailing that it became manifest to all that his days on earth would\nsoon be ended.\nHe sat joylessly in his palace, listening to the moaning\nof the wind, the rustle of the falling leaves, and the pattering of the\nrain.\nHis gloomy spirit was in accord with the melancholy days.\nMore\ndreary storms darkened his turbid soul than those which wrecked the\nautumnal sky.', -8.865147), ('It was two o’clock in the afternoon of Sunday, December 12, when\nthe banners of the Old Dessauer appeared before Myssen.\nThe Saxon\ncommander there broke down the bridge, and in the darkness of the\nnight stole away with his garrison to Dresden.\nLeopold vigorously but\ncautiously pursued.\nAs the allied army was near, and in greater force\nthan Leopold’s command, it was necessary for him to move with much\ndiscretion.\nHis march was along the west bank of the river.\nThe ground\nwas frozen and white with snow.', -8.927422), ('“The old serene highness himself, face the color of gunpowder, and\nbluer in the winter frost, went rushing far and wide in an open vehicle\nwhich he called his ‘cart,’ pushing out his detachments; supervising\nevery thing; wheeling hither and thither as needful; sweeping out the\nPandour world, and keeping it out; not much fighting needed, but ‘a\ngreat deal of marching,’ murmurs Frederick, ‘which in winter is as bad,\nand wears down the force of battalions.\n’”[79]', -9.069426), ('“MY DEAR VOLTAIRE,--I have received two of your letters, but\n  could not answer sooner.\nI am like Charles Twelfth’s chess king,\n  who was always on the move.\nFor a fortnight past we have been\n  kept continually afoot and under way in such weather as you never\n  saw.', -9.199488), ('“We have settled our winter quarters.\nI have yet a little round to\ntake, and afterward I shall seek for tranquillity at Leipsic, if it\nbe to be found there.\nBut, indeed, for me tranquillity is only a\nmetaphysical word which has no reality.”', -9.202026), ('It was a cold, dreary autumnal morning.\nThe Austrian army, according to\nFrederick’s statement, amounted to sixty thousand men.[86]\nBut it was\nwidely dispersed.\nMany of the cavalry were scouring the country in all\ndirections, in foraging parties and as skirmishers.\nLarge bodies had\nbeen sent by circuitous roads to occupy every avenue of retreat.\nThe\nconsolidated army, under Prince Charles, now advancing to the attack,\namounted to thirty-six thousand men.\nFrederick had but twenty-six\nthousand.[87]', -9.284732), ('His feet and legs became cold.\nDeath was stealing its way toward the\nvitals.\nAbout nine o’clock Wednesday evening a painful cough commenced,\nwith difficulty of breathing, and an ominous rattle in the throat.\nOne\nof his dogs sat by his bedside, and shivered with cold; the king made a\nsign for them to throw a quilt over it.', -9.295746), ('[Illustration: THE YOUNG LORDS OF SAXONY ON A WINTER CAMPAIGN.]', -9.302851), ('“Archenholtz describes it as a thing surpassable only by doomsday;\nclangorous rage of noise risen to the infinite; the boughs of the trees\nraining down upon you with horrid crash; the forest, with its echoes,\nbellowing far and near, and reverberating in universal death-peal,\ncomparable to the trump of doom.\n”[157]', -9.329517), ('Never were the prospects of Frederick more gloomy.\nHe had taken up\nhis residence for the winter in a very humble cottage near the hamlet\nof Freiberg.\nHe must have been very unhappy.\nScenes of suffering were\nevery where around him.\nIt was terribly cold.\nHis troops were poorly\nclothed, and fed, and housed.', -9.388727), ('The sun had just risen above the horizon when the conflict commenced.\nIt reached its meridian.\nStill the storm of battle swept the plains\nand reverberated over the hills.\nHeights had been taken and retaken;\ncharges had been made and repelled; the surges of victory had rolled\nto and fro; over many leagues the thunderbolts of battle were thickly\nflying; bugle peals, cries of onset, shrieks of the wounded crushed\nbeneath artillery wheels, blended with the rattle of musketry and the\nroar of artillery; riderless horses were flying in all directions; the\nextended plain was covered with the wreck and ruin of battle, and every\nmoment was multiplying the victims of war’s horrid butchery.', -9.407223), ('“‘The finest day of life is the day on which one quits it.\n’”[177]', -9.550795), ('The heroic General Einsiedel struggled along through the snow and over\nthe pathless hills, pursued and pelted every hour by the indomitable\nfoe.\nHe was often compelled to abandon baggage-wagons and ambulances\ncontaining the sick, while the wounded and the exhausted sank freezing\nby the way.\nAt one time he was so crowded by the enemy that he was\ncompelled to continue his march through the long hours of a wintry\nnight, by the light of pitch-pine torches.\nAfter this awful retreat of\ntwenty days, an emaciate, ragged, frostbitten band crossed the frontier\ninto Silesia, near Friedland.\nThey were soon united with the other\ncolumns of the discomfited and almost ruined army.', -9.587931), ('A comfortable house, with garden and summer-house, was provided for\nthe Crown Prince.\nHe occasionally gave a dinner-party to his brother\nofficers; and from the summer-house rockets were thrown into the sky,\nto the great gratification of the rustic peasantry.', -9.620139), ('“The worst which can happen to those who wish to travel in Silesia is\nto get spattered with the mud.”', -9.62079), ('There were terrible war-clouds still sweeping over various parts of\nEurope, but their lightning flashes and their thunder roar disturbed\nnot the repose of Frederick in his elevated retreat.', -9.661688), ('Linsenbarth, thus left alone, sauntered from the garden back to the\nesplanade.\nThere he stood quite bewildered.\nHe had walked that day\ntwenty miles beneath a July sun and over the burning sands.\nHe had\neaten nothing.\nHe had not a farthing in his pocket.', -9.911314), ('[75] Voltaire is proverbially inaccurate in details.\nIt was the king’s\ninvariable custom to rise at _four_ in summer and six in winter.', -9.948947), ('Just at that time, when all hope seemed lost, it so happened that a\ncannon-ball crushed the foot of the Austrian commander.\nThis disaster,\ntogether with the darkness and the torrents of rain, caused the fire of\nthe enemy to cease.\nThe next morning some Prussian re-enforcements came\nto the rescue of the king, and he escaped.', -9.963497), ('As this magnificent army entered upon the smooth and beautiful fields\nof Southern Silesia they shook out their banners, and with peals of\nmusic gave expression to their confidence of victory.\nThe Austrian\nofficers pitched their tents on a hill near Hohenfriedberg, where they\nfeasted and drank their wine, while, during the long and beautiful June\nafternoon, they watched the onward sweep of their glittering host.\n“The\nAustrian and Saxon army,” writes an eye-witness, “streamed out all the\nafternoon, each regiment or division taking the place appointed it; all\nthe afternoon, till late in the night, submerging the country as in a\ndeluge.”', -9.998358), ('On Sunday morning, January 15th, the deadly, concentric fire of shot\nand shell was opened upon the crowded city, where women and children,\ntorn by war’s merciless missiles, ran to and fro frantic with terror.\nThe dreadful storm continued to rage, with but few intermissions,\nuntil Wednesday.\nStill there were no signs of surrender.\nThe king,\nthough his head-quarters were a few miles distant, at Ottmachau, was\nalmost constantly on the ground superintending every thing.\nAs he felt\nsure of the entire conquest of Silesia, the whole province being now\nin his possession except three small towns, he looked anxiously upon\nthe destruction which his own balls and bombs were effecting.\nHe was\ndestroying his own property.', -10.093903), ('“As soon as the roads are surer I hope you will write more\n  frequently.\nI do not know where we shall have our winter\n  quarters.\nOur houses at Breslau have been destroyed in the late\n  bombardment.\nOur enemies envy us every thing, even the air we\n  breathe.\nThey must, however, leave us some place.\nIf it be a safe\n  one, I shall be delighted to receive you there.', -10.094859), ('Still, most of the courtly carousers did not comprehend this.\nAnd when\nthe toast to Wilhelmina as Princess of Wales was received with such\nacclaim, they supposed that all doubt was at an end.\nThe news flew\nupon the wings of the wind to Berlin.\nIt was late in the afternoon of\nMonday, April 30.\nWilhelmina writes:', -10.098246), ('It was on the 9th of December that the king, after incredible exposure\nto hunger, and cold, and night-marchings, established himself for the\nwinter in the shattered apartments of his ruined palace at Breslau.\nHe tried to assume a cheerful aspect in public, but spent most of\nhis hours alone, brooding over the ruin which now seemed inevitable.\nHe withdrew from all society, scarcely spoke to any body except upon\nbusiness.\nOne day General Lentulus dined with him, and not one word was\nspoken at the table.\nOn the 18th of January, 1762, the king wrote in\nthe following desponding tones to D’Argens:', -10.105444), ('[112] Archenholtz, vol. i., p. 209.', -10.129501), ('[192] Schmettau, vol.\nxxv., p. 30.', -10.162394), ('“All next day the body lay in state in the palace; thousands crowding,\nfrom Berlin and the other environs, to see that face for the last time.\nWasted, worn, but beautiful in death, with the thin gray hair parted\ninto locks, and slightly powdered.\n”[201]', -10.185293), ('The region through which this retreat and pursuit were conducted was\nmuch of the way along the southern slope of the Giant Mountains.\nIt was\na wild country of precipitous rocks, quagmires, and gloomy forests.\nAt length Prince Charles, with his defeated and dispirited army, took\nrefuge at Königsgraft, a compact town between the Elbe and the Adler,\nprotected by one stream on the west, and by the other on the south.\nHere, in an impregnable position, he intrenched his troops.\nFrederick,\nfinding them unassailable, encamped his forces in a position almost\nequally impregnable, a few miles west of the Elbe, in the vicinity of a\nlittle village called Chlum.\nThus the two hostile armies, almost within\nsound of each other’s bugles, defiantly stood in battle array, each\nwatching an opportunity to strike a blow.', -10.221828), ('On the 18th of September, when the rejoicing Austrians at Königgrätz\nwere firing salutes, drinking wine, and feasting in honor of the\nelection of the grand-duke to the imperial dignity, Frederick, availing\nhimself of the carousal in the camp of his foes, crossed the Elbe with\nhis whole army, a few miles above Königgrätz, and commenced his retreat\nto Silesia.\nHis path led through a wild, sparsely inhabited country, of\nprecipitous rocks, hills, mountain torrents, and quagmires.\nOne vast\nforest spread along the banks of the Elbe, covering with its gloom an\nextent of sixty square miles.\nA few miserable hamlets were scattered\nover this desolate region.\nThe poor inhabitants lived mainly upon the\nrye which they raised and the swine which ranged the forest.', -10.224433), ('“Hof, July 2, 1734, not long after 4 A.M.', -10.247626), ('At one moment the Russian horse dashed against this line and staggered\nit.\nFrederick immediately rushed into the vortex to rally the broken\nbattalions.\nAt the same instant the magnificent squadrons of Seidlitz,\nfive thousand strong, flushed with victory, swept like the storm-wind\nupon the Russian dragoons.\nThey were whirled back like autumn leaves\nbefore the gale.\nAbout four o’clock the firing ceased.\nThe ammunition\non both sides was nearly expended.\nFor some time the Prussians had been\nusing the cartridge-boxes of the dead Russians.', -10.253329), ('[168] Archenholtz, vol.\nii., p. 262.', -10.259073), ('“I was shut up in my bedchamber, where I saw nobody, and continued\nalways to fast.\nI was really dying of hunger.\nI read as long as there\nwas daylight, and made remarks upon what I read.\nMy health began\nto give way.\nI became as thin as a skeleton from want of food and\nexercise.\nOne day Madam De Sonsfeld and myself were at table, looking\nsadly at one another, having nothing to eat but soup made with salt\nand water, and a ragout of old bones, full of hairs and other dirt,\nwhen we heard a knocking at the window.\nSurprised, we rose hastily to\nsee what it was.\nWe found a raven with a morsel of bread in its beak,\nwhich it laid down on the sill of the window so soon as it saw us, and\nflew away.', -10.27809), ('Mühlberg Hill, the Prussians storm and carry the Works on, 483.', -10.380369), ('[120] London Magazine, vol.\nxxvii., p. 670.', -10.47), ('It was all in vain.\nOn Sunday evening, September 5th, as the condemned\nyoung man was sitting alone in his prison cell, sadly awaiting his\ndoom, yet clinging to hopes of mercy, an officer entered with the\nstartling intelligence that the carriage was at the door to convey\nhim to the fortress of Cüstrin, at a few leagues distance, where he\nwas to be executed.\nFor a moment he was greatly agitated.\nHe soon,\nhowever, regained his equanimity.\nIt must indeed have been a fearful\ncommunication to one in the vigor of health, in the prime of youth,\nand surrounded by every thing which could render life desirable.\nTwo\nbrother-officers and the chaplain accompanied him upon this dismal\nmidnight ride.\nSilence, pious conversation, prayers, and occasional\ndevotional hymns occupied the hours.\nThe dawn of a cold winter’s\nmorning was just appearing as they reached the fortress.', -10.492882), ('“It was a beautiful sight,” writes Tempelhof.\n“The heads of the columns\nwere constantly on the same level, and at the distance necessary for\nforming.\nAll flowed on exact as if in a review.\nAnd you could read in\nthe eyes of our brave troops the temper they were in.”', -10.49298), ('[81] Carlyle, vol.\niv., p. 80.', -10.510853), ('General Loudon was in command of the Austrians, and General Butturlin\nof the Russians, who were arrayed against Frederick.\nThey could\nnot agree upon a plan of attack.\nNeither commander was willing to\nexpose his troops to the brunt of a battle in which the carnage would\nnecessarily be dreadful.\nThus the weeks wore away.\nFrederick could not\nbe safely attacked, and winter was approaching.', -10.559401), ('It was midnight.\n“Within doors all is silence; around it the dark earth\nis silent, above it the silent stars.”\nThus for two hours the attendant\nsat motionless, holding the dying king.\nNot a word was spoken; no sound\ncould be heard but the painful breathing which precedes death.', -10.559523), ('Preparing for the Battle.--The Surprise.--The Snow-encumbered\n    Plain.--Horror of the Scene.--Flight of Frederick.--His Shame\n    and Despair.--Unexpected Victory of the Prussians.--Letters of\n    Frederick.--Adventures of Maupertuis.', -10.578423), ('This lasted till nightfall.\nAs darkness veiled the awful scene the\nexhausted soldiers dropped upon the ground, and, regardless of the dead\nand of the groans of the wounded, borne heavily upon the night air,\nslept almost side by side.\nIt is appalling to reflect upon what a fiend\nto humanity man has been, as revealed in the history of the nations.\nAll the woes of earth combined are as nothing compared with the misery\nwhich man has inflicted upon his brother.', -10.603691), ('Frederick made several unavailing efforts during the winter to secure\npeace.\nHe was weary of a war which threatened his utter destruction.\nThe French were also weary of a struggle in which they encountered\nbut losses and disgraces.\nEngland had but little to hope for from the\nconflict, and would gladly see the exhaustive struggle brought to a\nclose.', -10.640349), ('On the 25th of October a courier arrived, direct from Vienna, with\nthe startling intelligence that the Emperor Charles VI. had died five\ndays before.\nThe king was at the time suffering from a severe attack\nof chills and fever.\nThere was quite a long deliberation in the court\nwhether it were safe to communicate the agitating intelligence to\nhis majesty while he was so sick.\nThey delayed for an hour, and then\ncautiously informed the king of the great event.\nFrederick listened in\nsilence; uttered not a word; made no sign.[36] Subsequent events proved\nthat his soul must have been agitated by the tidings to its profoundest\ndepths.\nThe death of the emperor, at that time, was unexpected.', -10.643999), ('Moravia to be wrested from Maria Theresa, 298.', -10.669041), ('D’Argens spent the winter with the king at Leipsic.\nHe gives the\nfollowing incident: “One day I entered the king’s apartment, and found\nhim sitting on the floor with a platter of fried meat, from which he\nwas feeding his dogs.\nHe had a little rod, with which he kept order\namong them, and shoved the best bits to his favorites.”', -10.670158), ('Frederick dispatched messengers to Ohlau to summon the force there to\nhis aid; the messengers were all captured.\nThe Prussians were now in\na deplorable condition.\nThe roads were encumbered and rendered almost\nimpassable by the drifted snow.\nThe army was cut off from its supplies,\nand had provisions on hand but for a single day.\nBoth parties alike\nplundered the poor inhabitants of their cattle, sheep, and grain.\nEvery\nthing that could burn was seized for their camp-fires.\nWe speak of\nthe carnage of the battle-field, and often forget the misery which is\nalmost invariably brought upon the helpless inhabitants of the region\nthrough which the armies move.\nThe schoolmaster of Mollwitz, a kind,\nsimple-hearted, accurate old gentleman, wrote an account of the scenes\nhe witnessed.\nUnder date of Mollwitz, Sunday, April 9, he writes:', -10.687145), ('As has often been mentioned, the carnage of the battle-field\nconstitutes by no means the greater part of the miseries of war.\nOne of\nthe sufferers from the conflagration of the city of Cüstrin gives the\nfollowing graphic account of the scene.\nIt was the 15th of August, 1758:', -10.712244), ('Breslau, Capital of Silesia, 228;\n    Terms of Surrender offered, 229;\n    terms of its surrender to Frederick, 281;\n    Frederick crowned Sovereign Duke of Silesia at, 294;\n    afterward retaken by Austria, 435;\n    Frederick concentrates troops at, 507;\n    he establishes Winter Quarters at, 527.', -10.71593), ('“The darkest hour is often nearest the dawn.”\nThe next day after\nFrederick had written the above letter he received news of the death of\nhis most inveterate enemy, Elizabeth, the Empress of Russia.\nAs we have\nmentioned, she was intensely exasperated against him in consequence\nof some sarcasms in which he had indulged in reference to her private\nlife.\nElizabeth was the daughter of Peter the Great, and had inherited\nmany of her father’s imperial traits of character.\nShe was a very\nformidable foe.', -10.747194), ('It was a dreary winter to Frederick in Breslau.\nSad, silent, and\noften despairing, he was ever inflexibly resolved to struggle till\nthe last possible moment, and, if need be, to bury himself beneath\nthe ruins of his kingdom.\nAll his tireless energies he devoted to the\nHerculean work before him.\nNo longer did he affect gayety or seek\nrecreations.\nSecluded, solitary, sombre, he took counsel of no one.\nIn\nthe possession of absolute power, he issued his commands as with the\nauthority of a god.', -10.793808), ('“The army,” writes Prince Charles, mournfully, “was greatly\ndilapidated.\nThe soldiers were without clothes, and in a condition\ntruly pitiable.\nSo closely were we pursued by the enemy that at night\nwe were compelled to encamp without tents.”', -10.894758), ('Borne, short but bloody Conflict at, 438.', -10.951788), ('Winter Encampment.--Death of Maupertuis.--Infamous Conduct of\n    Voltaire.--Reproof by the King.--Voltaire’s\nInsincerity.--\n    Correspondence.--The King publishes his Poems.--Dishonorable\n    Conduct of the King.--New Encampment near Dresden.--Destruction\n    of Frederick’s Army in Silesia.--Atrocities perpetrated by the\n    Austrians.--Astonishing March.--The Austrians outwitted.--Dresden\n    bombarded and almost destroyed by Frederick.--Battle of Liegnitz.--\n    Utter Rout of the Austrians.--Undiminished Peril of Frederick.--\n    Letter to D’Argens.', -10.982705), ('“MY DEAR BROTHER, MY DEAR SISTER,--I write you both at once for want\nof time.\nI have as yet received no answer from Vienna.\nI shall not get\nit till to-morrow.\nBut I count myself surer of war than ever, as the\nAustrians have named their generals, and their army is ordered to march\nto Königgrätz.\nSo that, expecting nothing else but a haughty answer, or\na very uncertain one, on which there will be no reliance possible, I\nhave arranged every thing for setting out on Saturday next.”', -11.016624), ('“My dear Monsieur Jordan, my sweet Monsieur Jordan, my quiet Monsieur\nJordan, my good, my benign, my pacific, my most humane Monsieur\nJordan,--I announce to thy serenity the conquest of Silesia.\nI warn\nthee of the bombardment of Neisse, and I prepare thee for still more\nprojects, and instruct thee of the happiest successes that the womb of\nfortune ever bore.\n”[47]', -11.040297), ('Conscious of military failure, disgraced in the eyes of\nhis generals and soldiers, and abandoned by the king, his health and\nspirits alike failed him.\nThe next morning he wrote a sad, respectfully\nreproachful letter to Frederick, stating that his health rendered it\nnecessary for him to retire for a season from the army to recruit.\nThe reply of the king, which was dated Bautzen, July 30, 1757, shows\nhow desperate he, at that time, considered the state of his affairs.\nHopeless of victory, he seems to have sought only death.', -11.097169), ('As the king cast his eye over the blood-stained field, covered with the\nwounded and the dead, for a moment he seemed overcome with the aspect\nof misery, and exclaimed, “When, oh when will my woes cease?”', -11.127036), ('The Encampment at Brieg.--Bombardment.--Diplomatic Intrigues.--\n    Luxury of the Spanish Minister.--Rising Greatness of Frederick.--\n    Frederick’s Interview with Lord Hyndford.--Plans of France.--\n    Desperate Prospects of Maria Theresa.--Anecdote of Frederick.--\n    Joint Action of England and Holland.--Heroic Character of Maria\n    Theresa.--Coronation of the Queen of Hungary.', -11.195789), ('[Illustration: MAP ILLUSTRATING THE CAMPAIGN IN MORAVIA.]', -11.239277)]
====================================================================================================
Query: what is the weather?
result 0 related score -2.395045280456543
It seems to be ever the doom of an army to encounter mud and rain.
It was cold, gloomy, December weather.
The troops were drenched and
chilled by the floods continually falling from the clouds.
The advance
of the army was over a flat country where the water stood in pools.
All day long, Monday and Tuesday, the rain continued to fall without
intermission.
But the Prussian army, under its impetuous leader, paid
no regard to the antagonistic elements.
====================================================================================================
Query: what is the weather?
result 1 related score -2.6830437183380127
The winter was long, cold, and dreary.
Fierce storms swept the fields,
piling up the snow in enormous drifts.
But for this cruel war, the
Prussian, Russian, and Austrian peasants, who had been dragged into
the armies to slaughter each other, might have been in their humble
but pleasant homes, by the bright fireside, in the enjoyment of all
comforts.
====================================================================================================
Query: what is the weather?
result 2 related score -4.216607093811035
“The snow lies ell-deep,” writes Archenholtz; “snow-tempests, sleet,
frost.
The soldiers bread is a block of ice, impracticable to human
teeth till you thaw it.”

Process finished with exit code 0